Promise me tomorrow (24 page)

"I'll miss you, Rusty" was all she said, but it was enough to send them both into tears.

Colorado Springs

Mrs. Whitley lost track of Quintin for several minutes, but she need not have worried. Standing straight as a soldier, he was still in front of the window in the vestibule, his eyes on the front drive. She knew whom he was waiting for. The wise housekeeper suspected that the woman arriving was his favorite person in the world.

Mrs. Harding had been gone since the day before. It had been decided that she would be away before Miss Taggart arrived. Quintin had known of the plans only since the beginning of the week, but Mrs. Whitley couldn't help but ask herself if Mrs. Harding might not be hurt by Quintins buoyant mood. The staff had never seen him so happy. He hadn't even cried at the prospect of not seeing Mrs. Harding for the entire summer. Of course time was a vague thing to a five-year-old, but Mrs. Whitley knew there was more to it than that.

The housekeeper was turning away from Quintin's vigil when Mr. McCandles wandered by. He'd been doing a bit of pacing and worrying himself. Chase was thinking about his last conversation with Rusty. He'd been very pleased to know that she was coming.

"That's great," he had said at least twice. "I'll come and get you. What day will you be finished there?"

"I don't need you to come," she'd told him, "but thank you.

Chase had already been shaking his head. "I'll come for you; just tell me the day."

Rusty's chin had instantly gone in the air. "I'm not sure what day," she said, her eyes challenging him. "But I will get there on my own. "

Chase opened his mouth to set her straight, but she cut back in.

"Mr. McCandles, I'll come over to Briarly on my own, and when I need to travel to Boulder or back here to Manitou, I'll also do that on my own. And that's my final word on the subject."

He hadn't been happy about her decision, and she knew it, but she never gave any hint of backing down. He'd had no choice but to let the matter drop. Chase now wished he had pushed the point and gone for her anyway.

Why, Chase?
he found himself asking.
Why do you need to bring her here
—
so you wont have to worry? You shouldn't be worrying anyway Is God in control or not?

With this reminder, he turned, and leaving his son at the window, went back to his office. Quite sadly, it never occurred to him to speak to the boy or initiate any type of interchange. He didn't even notice that Quintin held his bear snugly in his arms.

***

Rusty stepped onto the platform and immediately hailed a porter. The porter, a young man with a preference for redheads, was happy to be of service to this petite woman with the determined glint in her lovely lavender eyes.

"I have a trunk," Rusty told the gawking porter. Not even she could miss his interest. "And I'll need a hack. Are you able to see to those things for me?"

"I certainly am," he told her with a smile. He was tempted to ask if the trunk meant she would be in town for a while, but the question remained inside of him for fear that she would report him to his superior. "If you'll come with me to the station and point out your trunk, I'll get right to it."

"Thank you."

The porter smiled at her and made light conversation as he got her trunk and saw her settled into a waiting carriage, but other than tipping him fairly and thanking him for his time, Rusty had nothing else to say. Indeed, she didn't look at him again. Had she done so, she would have seen the huge lift of his eyebrows when she told the hack driver that her destination was Briarly.

***

Quintin McCandles couldn't breathe. His little chest rose but would not fall. She was here. Miss Taggart was in the front of the house, stepping lightly down from the carriage and smiling at the driver who had helped her. He had to tell someone. He had to let someone know! His little legs turned and he moved to the hallway, but it was empty. Panic was filling his breast when Mrs. Whitley came down the stairs. One look at the mute appeal on his face and her heart wrung with tenderness.

"Is she here, Quintin?"

All he could do was nod.

Til let her in, shall I?"

Again Quintin could only manage a nod, but as he did so the door opened. Mr. Whitley, the footman, carriage driver, and general handyman, had opened it. Quintin watched as he stepped back and then she was there.

Miss Taggart was the most wonderful person he'd ever known, and now she was coming in the front door. Every time he held his bear, he thought of her and tried not to cry, but he wouldn't merely have to think of her any longer.

He couldn't move. He wanted to run to her, but his legs wouldn't work. There was no need. The moment Rusty spotted him, she dashed across the vestibule, under the ornate archway, and into the foyer to scoop him up into her arms. Quintin's arms went around her. He heard her say his name, but he couldn't reply. His little face was buried in her neck, and he thought she smelled like flowers. A moment later he felt his feet touch the floor, and when he raised his head, he found her kneeling in front of him and smiling into his face.

"Hello, Quintin McCandles."

"Hello, Miss Taggart," he said, feeling all at once shy.

"Now that," she declared, "is the first thing we must correct. My name is Aunt Rusty. Can you remember that?"

"Yes."

"And that's what you'll call me, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"How have you been?" She smiled at how much he wanted to please her.

"Very well, thank you."

"Is Mrs. Harding still here?"

"No. She left yesterday."

"And what did you do today to have fun?"

"I watched you come."

Rusty smiled. She didn't need an interpreter for that one.

She was also relieved. It was not going to be a painful transition, at least not today. When she began suggesting things that he'd never done in his life, he was certain to panic, but for today he was glad to see her.

"Would you like to come and help me unpack?"

"I believe Mrs. Whitley planned on seeing to that."

Rusty looked up at the sound of Chase's voice and stood to full height, taking Quintin's hand without thought. Chase was glad she'd just now seen him. He'd come to the hallway in time to see her enfold Quintin in her arms. The scene had so touched him that if he'd been required to speak prior to that moment, he would have been at a painful loss.

"Hello, Mr. McCandles," Rusty acknowledged graciously.

"Hello, Katherine. How was your trip?"

"It was fine," she said, her eyes sparkling.

"Uneventful?"

Rusty laughed. "Very."

"I'm glad to hear it." Rusty watched as he turned to Mrs. Whitley. Rusty had smiled at her when she came in but otherwise had been wholly taken up with Quintin.

"Mrs. Whitley, has Miss Taggart met the rest of the staff?"

"I don't believe all of them, sir. Would you like me to see to it?"

"Please." He turned back to Rusty. "Mrs. Whitley is prepared to see to Quintin for the remainder of the day if you care to rest. "

"Thank you," Rusty said, her gaze encompassing both of them, "but the trip just wasn't that taxing. I had hoped that Quintin and I could do some things."

"As you wish." Chase was at his most gracious. "If there is anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Mr. McCandles," Rusty said to him. She then turned to Briarly's housekeeper. Mrs. Whitley was swift to respond.

"Miss Taggart, I don't believe you've met my husband." She indicated the man who had helped her after she'd paid the carriage driver. Marshall Whitley was fair-haired like his wife, with a quick smile and ready-to-please eyes. He'd come in to stand quietly in the background, his hat in his hand. Rusty went right over and shook his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Whitley. Thank you for taking care of my trunk."

"You're welcome, Miss Taggart. I'll just see that it gets upstairs to your room."

"Thank you. Are you going to lead the way?" Rusty asked Quintin.

He nodded. "You're in the same room."

Rusty's eyes grew with enthusiasm. "How nice. That's a beautiful room."

"My room is across the landing."

"We can visit each other." Her voice had dropped to a conspiratorial tone.

As usual, he nodded yes to everything she said. Rusty started toward the stairs. Just two steps later, Quintin took the lead. He went ahead of her, talking all the way.

Watching them, Chase suddenly knew why children were so drawn to her. She never said things to children and then looked to other adults with a teasing glint in her eye. Her conversations with children were strictly for them. What a special gift she had.

Chase returned to his office, a great peace filling his heart. He wouldn't think about the end of the summer when she had to go away, or how Quintin might take it. Right now he determined to be thankful that she had come for this time. As God's Word reminded him, tomorrow had enough worries of its own. Right now he would focus on today and give thanks.

28

"Can you tell me what this flower is?" Rusty asked of Quintin just three hours later. She was unpacked and settled, and they were off on what Rusty termed an "adventure."

"I think those are Shooting Stars."

"I think you're right. They're so wonderful, and the gardens here are so beautiful, Quintin. Don't you love them?"

He nodded but his
tye.s
didn't drift to the flowers. As she had been since arriving, Rusty was keenly aware of his adoration. She'd been praying all morning that she would be very careful with this child's heart, and she did so again right now. He was so impressionable and sweet. Already she felt blessed to have him love her as he did.

"Well, now, I think that we can go inside for a while. Was Mrs. Harding reading a particular book to you?"

"We just finished one. She didn't start another because we ran out of time."

"So we get to pick one ourselves?"

Again the familiar nod.

"Well, let's go." She held out her hand. "I can't wait."

Just minutes later they were in the library, and Rusty was pulling books from the shelf in no particular order. She placed them on the library table, the room's only piece of furniture, and continued to pull some more. Watching her, Quintin felt alarmed. Mrs. Harding
never
let him choose from that many books. Rusty was intent on her task, so it took her a moment to notice his face.

"Quintin, what is it?"

"It's too much."

Rusty looked at the pile of books on the table and back at the little boy. "You think I chose too many books?"

"We're not supposed to."

Rusty knew right then that she could not listen to that for the rest of the summer. She glanced around and spotted Mr. McCandles across the drawing room. He was at his desk, head bent over his task.

"Come with me, will you please, Quintin?" Rusty took his hand and led the way toward Chase's office. The doors were open, and he saw them approaching. He began to stand, but Rusty stopped him.

"Please don't get up, Mr. McCandles. We just have a question." With that she looked to Quintin. "Quintin, will you please ask your father about the books?"

He looked as if she'd just asked him to spit on the carpet. He glanced at her and then at his father, his face frozen with surprise. Rusty took over.

"Quintin and I would like to know if there are some books in the library that we should not touch, or if you would rather we looked at only a few at a time?"

Chase shook his head. "All the books can be touched, and you may read or look at as many as you like." "We can take them down from the shelves?" "Certainly."

Rusty looked down to her side. "Did you hear that, Quintin?"

"Yes."

"We can pick any books we want, and as many as we want," she reiterated.

He nodded, and she watched his little chest rise and fall with relief. Rusty smiled at him.

"Quintin, will you do me a favor and go back into the library and look at the books on the table? Take out anything that looks fun to read and put it in a separate stack. I'll join you in a minute. "

He walked away to do as she bid. Rusty watched him move out of earshot and then turned back to Quintins father.

"Did you mean it when you said I should come to you for anything I need, Mr. McCandles?"

"Absolutely," Chase answered without hesitation. He had come to his feet now but was still behind the desk.

"I'm feeling in something of a quandary," she admitted. "I took you quite literally when you said I should come with my own style and way of doing things, but as you can see, it's not that simple. The quandary comes as I realize that Mrs. Harding will be returning. I can't tell Quintin to forget all her rules, but by my actions I'll be saying just that. If you don't mind that we look at as many books as we wish, then this must be her rule. From the one other day Quintin and I spent together, I know she has many. What would you like me to do?"

Chase nodded. The reason Rusty had hesitated over coming was clear to him for the first time. He had determined just hours ago, however, that he was not going to look to the end of the summer.

"I'll speak with Quintin."

Rusty was surprised by this but very pleased. She stood to one side and then held her place. Halfway across the drawing room, Chase looked back at her.

"I want you with me, Katherine," he told her, and Rusty joined him without comment. "Quintin," his father spoke as soon as he entered the book-lined room. "I have something I need to tell you."

Rusty tried to ignore the painful way the child came to attention to listen to what her employer was saying.

"Mrs. Harding took good care of you, Quintin, and she did so in the way she thought was best. She had rules for you, and that was fine. Miss Taggart is here—"

"Aunt Rusty," Rusty boldly corrected him, and after only a glance at her, he started over.

"Aunt Rusty is going to have her own rules. When Mrs. Harding comes back she'll have her rules, but for now—for this summer—you are to do as Aunt Rusty instructs you. Do I make myself clear?" Yes, sir.