Somewhere to Call Home (Love Inspired Historical) (18 page)

Then she’d be watching her friends marry and start their own families and she’d become the town spinster. No, that wasn’t the life she wanted. She wanted more. So much more.

But if Michael didn’t feel the same way about her that she felt about him, she wasn’t sure she could stay here. She was almost certain she could not.

Chapter Eighteen

T
he next few weeks seemed to drag as they waited to hear from Atwood. The longer it went with no news, the deeper Violet’s spirits seemed to sink, and Michael wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her how he felt about her. But he held off, wanting things settled about her home and Harlan Black before he did. Only then would she know what she truly wanted to do—go back home to Virginia or stay in New York City. And only then would he feel he could find out for sure if there was a chance that she cared for him the way he did her.

In an effort to raise Violet’s spirits, Michael suggested that they all take in a concert at Carnegie Hall. He would have preferred it be only him and Violet, but at this point he didn’t trust himself to keep how he felt about her to himself if they were alone for any length of time.

Everyone seemed up for the outing, and Michael made sure he sat beside Violet.

Violet was quite impressed with the music hall. “Oh, Michael, it’s lovely.” She looked all around at the tiered seating, the red plush seats and the private boxes at the top of the hall as the Philharmonic Society began to tune their instruments. “Thank you for suggesting we come here this evening.”

He leaned close to her ear, taking in the sweet scent of her hair. “
You
look lovely tonight, and you’re welcome. After all that’s happened lately, I felt you needed an outing.” He smiled and made a little motion for her to look at his mother and the others. Their excitement was obvious as they looked in every direction and chattered about the people they recognized from the society pages of the newspaper.

“Look at that box up there, Violet,” his mother whispered and gave a little nod in the direction she was talking about. “It’s the Vanderbilt box. And over there is the Astors’.”

Michael chuckled at his mother’s excitement. “Actually, I think we all needed this.”

Violet nodded and turned back to him. “I think you’re right.”

Their faces were so close it took his breath away and he could hear Violet’s quick intake of breath and see a delicate flush of color flow to her cheeks.

Being so near to Violet sent Michael’s heart soaring—just as the notes being played soared to the top of the ceiling. From that moment on, Michael couldn’t distinguish his heartbeat from the instruments being played, until the last note sounded and he looked into Violet’s eyes. The look in them had his heart flying higher than any note he’d heard that night.

It was a magical evening, sitting together, enjoying another first for Violet in this city, and Michael hoped there would be many more—some he and Violet could enjoy without the company of others. What was he thinking? More time with Violet wasn’t what he needed. He cared about her too much already and once she got her home back free and clear, she could easily decide to go back to Ashland and take his heart with her. Not to mention what her leaving would do to his mother.

His chest constricted at the thought of Violet going back to Virginia. But the choice had to be hers, and he couldn’t pursue a relationship with her until he knew her decision. And even if she decided to stay in the city, he needed to pray for direction.

* * *

Michael was getting more impatient by the hour, but finally on Friday morning the telegram he’d been waiting on from Atwood was delivered. Thankfully, Violet hadn’t left for Butterick yet, and he sent Gretchen to find both her and his mother and ask them to meet him in the study.

Once they were both there, Michael wasted no time. “It appears we are about to get to the bottom of Harlan Black’s shady dealings.”

“Finally!” His mother sank into her chair and looked up at him expectantly while Violet stood speechless.

“I had this telegram from Mr. Atwood first thing this morning. This is what he says. ‘We have the goods. Put plan into action. Rumor has it Black is leaving for the city in a few days. Must work fast, but make sure you get in after dark. Will meet you at the Edwardses’ home tonight.’”

“Tonight?” Violet and his mother asked at the same time.

“Yes. I’m going to send Jim and another agent on ahead of us so that they’ll be in place before we get there. It looks as if your worries about keeping your home will soon be over with, Violet.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Her smile lit his heart and he truly was happy that things would soon be settled for her. He only hoped she wouldn’t decide to move back once everything was cleared up—especially after being back home again. But it would be much easier to get Black behind bars there, on his turf, than here in the city.

“I don’t know what to say,” Violet said. “I’ll be so glad to get to the truth and have this behind me. I can’t thank you enough.”

“So will we all, Violet,” Michael said. He was more than ready to get it behind them for personal reasons of his own. Until things were truly settled, he didn’t feel free to tell Violet how he felt about her.

“When do we leave?” his mother asked.

“Mother, there is no need for you to go with us. It might get dangerous, and I don’t want you in harm’s way. It’s bad enough that Violet has to be there. If I could take care of it all myself, I would.”

“I’m going, too. I don’t want to wait here worrying about the two of you. As you always tell me, Maida and Gretchen can take care of the boarders, and it’s not like there won’t be men in the house to protect them all. Besides, I think I’d like to see some of my old friends and invite them personally to come for a visit.”

“But, Mrs. Heaton, if it’s dangerous—”

Michael’s mother’s hand went up and he and Violet exchanged a glance. They both knew not to argue with her when she did that. She’d made up her mind and she wasn’t going to change it.

“All right then. We’ll leave as soon as Violet gets home from work and can get packed. I’ll make arrangements for the first evening train. That way it will be dark when we get there as Mr. Atwood instructed. If everything goes according to our plan, by tomorrow evening we should be celebrating.”

Michael prayed as he went to find Luke and let him know what they were doing.

* * *

Violet was happily surprised when the train pulled into the station to find Beth and her father waiting for them.

Beth hurried up to her and hugged her. “Oh, Violet! I’m so glad you are back!”

Michael and his mother got off from the next car and were quickly taken to a surrey where Mr. Atwood’s wife was waiting. “Oh, Martha, it’s about time you paid us a visit, I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you!”

Evidently Mr. Atwood and the judge had coached the two women on how to act and what to say to throw any suspicion their arrival might cause.

Violet went in through the front door of the Edwardses’ home and was greeted like a long-lost daughter by Beth’s mother, just before Michael and his mother were escorted down the alleyway and into the house by the back door. Once they were all inside the Edwardses’ home, where the shades were drawn tight, there was a collective sigh and some nervous laughter.

Both Mr. Atwood and the man Violet presumed to be the judge greeted her as a dear friend and granddaughter.

“Violet, Michael and Mrs. Heaton, this is Judge Bancroft. Do you remember him?” Mr. Atwood asked.

“Of course, I do,” Mrs. Heaton said.

“I know I’ve heard the name, but I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. I’m pleased to meet you, Judge,” Michael said, holding out a hand to the older man. “Thank you for being willing to help with this case.”

The judge shook his hand. “You’re welcome, son. When I heard what Atwood thought Black was up to, I was determined to see if we could put together an airtight case against the scoundrel.” He turned to Violet. “And you, young woman, do you remember me?”

“I do. Mama thought very highly of you, Judge.”

“Thank you for letting me know that, Miss Burton. Your parents were well-thought-of in this town. I’m sorry that scoundrel Black has caused you even more grief after the loss of your mother.”

“As you can see, the judge is as determined to put a stop to Black’s shenanigans as we are,” Atwood said. “And we have all the proof we need, right in here.” He patted a briefcase. “Violet will have her land free and clear by tomorrow this time.”

Violet prayed that was so. She’d done a lot of thinking about what she would do if they could prove that Harlan had been lying and there was no mortgage on her home. She still wasn’t sure exactly which way she would go with it, but she did know that if she had money once all was said and done, she wanted some of it to help those in need someway. But things were still up in the air, and she was afraid to make a solid plan until she knew for sure her home was hers—and after that, she hoped she’d find out how Michael felt about her.

* * *

After the wonderful meal Mrs. Edwards had prepared for them, they went into the parlor to discuss the final plans. Everyone would have a part to play. Mrs. Heaton would be spending the night with Violet in her home because Michael and his men would also be staying there—in case Black showed up that night or first thing the next morning before Mr. Atwood and the judge got there. If that happened the alternate plan could go forward.

The judge and Mr. Atwood had even involved the police, and the chief informed them that they had a patrolman watching Mr. Black to make sure he was nowhere around when they went over to the Burton home. A policeman would also take Jim’s place first thing in the morning when he went to let Black know that Violet was back in town.

Michael had a feeling Black would know long before that, but at least they seemed to have all possibilities covered. Mrs. Edwards and her daughter had stocked the kitchen for the next few days. Once Violet showed them around so that Michael could decide where to place his men, they all adjourned to the kitchen for coffee and the three-layer chocolate cake that Mrs. Edwards had provided. They went over the plan one more time.

And while Michael couldn’t wait for it all to be over with, he prayed that once Violet knew she didn’t have a mortgage to pay off, that she really didn’t have to work for a living, she’d still want to stay in the city. He didn’t want to lose her. Not now—not ever. She’d stolen his heart without lifting a finger to do so.

However, Michael wasn’t sure his heart was what she wanted, and he hadn’t been able to tell her how he felt yet. Just as soon as this was all settled, he intended to. He wasn’t going to lose her without a fight. But first he had to make sure she stayed safe, to make sure that Black didn’t get to her.

* * *

When Violet awoke the next morning, she lay in her bed listening to the sounds of the house she’d grown up in, just as she’d done numerous times before. But something was different. The house she’d been born in, grown up in, no longer felt like home to her. Thinking back, she realized it hadn’t felt the same since her mother had passed away. There had been a different feel to it as soon as her mother had been laid to rest.

And now, after living in New York City, Violet wasn’t sure she would ever really feel at home here again. Wasn’t sure she wanted to. New York and Mrs. Heaton’s boardinghouse had become home to her. Oh, she knew that if she moved back here, she would eventually feel differently, but more and more she realized that just as her home felt different, so did the town.

It was wonderful to see Beth and her parents again, but Violet couldn’t really think of anyone else here that she was eager to see, to spend time with or even that she missed. And yet, she knew she would miss most everyone at the boardinghouse if she came back. Being an only child, she felt as if she almost had siblings now, with the family atmosphere of Mrs. Heaton’s home. Not to mention that there was so much more to do and see in the city.

Violet flung her covers off and got out of bed. She could find many more reasons not to leave New York City, but deep down she knew that the real reason she didn’t want to move home was Michael. He’d become so much a part of her life, so much a part of her heart, that she couldn’t imagine even a day without seeing him. Didn’t even want to. But did he feel the same way about her?
Dear Lord, I pray he does and that I’ll know for sure soon.

She hurried to get ready for what the day would bring and prayed again that it would bring truth out into the open and that it would all be settled soon so that she could move forward with her life.

Mrs. Heaton had slept in Violet’s mother’s room, and Violet tiptoed past her door so as not to waken her. Violet had planned to cook breakfast for everyone, but as she got closer to the kitchen, she smelled coffee and her heart melted at the sight of Michael standing at her mother’s range, frying bacon. He must have heard her footsteps for he turned and smiled, those dimples deep and captivating.

“Good morning, Violet, I hope you slept well.”

“Good morning, Michael. Actually, I did sleep pretty well. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“My mother insisted I learn years ago. It’s been a long time since I have, but I don’t think I’ve lost my knack for it, if I do say so myself.” He forked the bacon that was done just the way Violet liked it onto a plate. “I don’t think my biscuits will be as good as Maida’s or Gretchen’s, but I think they’ll be edible.”

Mrs. Heaton entered the kitchen just as Michael took the biscuits out of the oven. “I am so glad I taught you to cook, son.” She kissed him on the cheek and turned to Violet.

“Violet, dear, didn’t you say you hoped to find your mother’s sewing box? When I got into bed last night, I kicked my slipper under the bed and when I went to retrieve it, I found the sewing box under the bed.”

“Under the bed?” That was odd. “I can’t imagine why Mother would have put it there, but I am so glad you found it. Of course, she hadn’t felt like using it for weeks before she passed away. Maybe she put it beside the bed thinking she could get to it when she felt up to it.”

“I’m sure that was it. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know it is here.”

“Thank you so much.” Violet fought the urge to go get it and look through all the things her mother kept there. To bring back good memories. Maybe she’d feel more at home here if she could.