While Love Stirs (26 page)

Butterflies collided inside Charlotte’s stomach every time she was with Joel. After leaving the café, she boarded a streetcar that would take her to Hannah’s. She slid into the seat and pressed a hand to her stomach.

It wasn’t the way he’d touched her hand, which certainly made her shiver. It was the way he’d looked at her while they stood waiting for the streetcar to arrive. Sometimes it was like he could see inside her emotions like the heroes did in one of Hannah’s books. Other times it was as if he were seeing her for the first time. She’d never be able to explain it to anyone, but it was in those seconds the butterflies took flight inside her.

She stared out the window at the passing businesses and reminded herself those were simply feelings. “Feelings,” her mother had often said, “can change as fast as Iowa weather. Snow one day and a heat wave the next.” And then she’d cautioned Charlotte against making decisions based on feelings alone. “Use the brain God gave you, not just your heart.”

If only she could talk to her mother now. Would she be able to explain how Lewis was a much more sensible choice, but every time she was with Joel, her heart pounded an erratic rhythm all its own?

The trolley clacked down the street and passed beneath the Sibley tunnel. When it came to her stop, she stepped onto the curb. Before she got to Hannah’s, she needed to put both men out of her thoughts. Her attorney sister was a bloodhound when it came to romantic inclinations, and she wasn’t ready for Hannah to put her heart on trial.

That was strange.

Tessa spotted the accounts ledger lying open on Mr. Jurgenson’s desk, but she could have sworn the receipt total had been different the other day. Could she have miscounted?

She glanced at the door to see if anyone was coming, then spun the book around for a better look.

That wasn’t her handwriting. Someone had erased some of her numbers and changed them. But who? Mr. Jurgenson? Miss Walker? And why?

Picking up the ledger, she studied the handwriting. She’d recognize that neat script anywhere, even with only a few faint numbers.

She flipped to the payouts section, searching for any more references to the mysterious Mr. K. O. Her gaze lit on the last entry and her breath caught. It was for the same amount deducted from the receipts. Coincidence?

Miss Walker stepped into the office. “Miss Gregory, what exactly are you doing?”

30

Tessa jumped. Why hadn’t she heard Miss Walker approaching? “I, uh, I was—”

“You were looking at Mr. Jurgenson’s books.” She crossed the room, grabbed the ledger, and slammed it shut. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Walker.”

“You do realize we cannot keep you here under the circumstances. We will not have any theater employees who cannot be trusted.” Her brow remained furled as she sat down at the man’s desk.

This couldn’t be happening. What would Aunt Sam say? What would her sisters say? She could see their disappointed faces already. And what would happen if the director found out?

“Miss Walker, I noticed a discrepancy in the books. My figures had been changed. I need to tell Mr. Jurgenson right away.”

“I changed the figures. You simply counted wrong.”

“No, I counted correctly, I’m sure of it. I counted twice. Do you know what happened to the money?”

Miss Walker jerked her gaze upward, eyes wide.

Uh-oh. The look on Miss Walker’s face frightened her.

Miss Walker tapped the desk with her finger. “If I let you keep this position, will you remain silent?”

“I don’t think I can.”

The clerk’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I suppose your aunt wouldn’t take kindly to this little operation, given she’s such a patron of the arts.” She leaned forward and laid her folded hands on the desk. “However, I must admit I didn’t think you’d care about keeping your position in this office when you seemed to have secured a part in the play.”

Tessa froze. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip.

“Did you honestly believe you could keep it a secret from me? I know everything that happens inside this theater. I don’t think Mr. Jurgenson would appreciate knowing how you got that part, and I doubt he’d let you keep it.”

Lose her part! Tessa’s heart plummeted. The opening was just over a week away.

What could she say? Her mind went blank. Only a few lines from Shakespeare’s
Julius Caesar
took the stage inside her head. “‘There is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.’” She blurted the lines out without thinking.

“I see you grasp my situation well.” Miss Walker gave her a wry laugh. “All right, Miss Gregory. We’ll exchange silence. I’ll say nothing of your part in the play, and you’ll keep my occasional dalliances to yourself. Understood?”

Even as Tessa nodded, guilt tugged at her conscience.

“Good. I believe you have a play practice to get to.”

Stunned, Tessa left the office and walked down the stairs. The heels of her shoes clicked against the tile. How strange it was that the theater suddenly felt cold and blighted, not the home of fairies and boys who could fly.

What was Miss Walker really up to? Did the mysterious Mr. K. O. have anything to do with it, or was the matching sum simply a coincidence? Like a flame to kindling, her curiosity about what was going on flared. She’d get to the bottom of this. She simply had to.

Fresh excitement bubbled inside her. Maybe instead of becoming an actress, she should become a Pinkerton agent.

Charlotte needed to hurry or she wouldn’t be ready before Joel arrived. She’d stayed too long at Hannah’s, and now she was running behind.

She threw on a soft lemon-colored tailored suit and jabbed pins into her loose curls. She smoothed her hands down the suit’s slender silhouette and then quickly added an ostrich-plumed hat with a dark green satin bow before heading downstairs to meet him.

At lunch, he’d asked if she’d like to meet the rest of his family. When she’d pressed for more details, he explained they’d not be visiting his real family, but he would not elaborate. He must have sensed her reservations because he added that Mattie would be present.

She’d accepted the invitation partly out of curiosity, partly out of wanting to speak with Mattie, and partly because she found herself enjoying her time with Joel more and more.

“Miss Charlotte,” one of the maids called from the door. “You have a gentleman caller.”

Charlotte hopped around as she tried to get her second shoe on. “Please show him to the parlor and tell him I’ll be right down.”

A few minutes later, she walked into the parlor and came to a halt. “Lewis.”

He stood. “It’s good to see you, Charlotte. You’re looking lovely as always.” He glanced at her wrap. “In fact, you look as if you’re ready to go out for the evening. Am I interrupting something?”

With her heart still torn, she didn’t want to tell Lewis about Joel, and vice versa. Still, she couldn’t lie.

She smiled and indicated he should sit down. She sat in the chair beside him. “I have a meeting with a friend soon, but we can talk for a few minutes. What brings you here?”

“I spoke to Molly and learned you were still at the lake the night of the tornado, and I wanted to see how you were.”

“You came all the way from Stillwater to check on me?”

“I was hoping to persuade you to join me for a ride in my dad’s motorcar. I wanted to surprise you.” He looked down at his shoes. “I should have telephoned, but don’t look so fretful. I have friends here in the city I can visit. Tell me, what happened at the lake? Are you truly all right?”

“It was scary, but I’m fine. Was there any damage at your friend’s estate?”

Lewis explained how they’d taken shelter in a root cellar and were delighted to find only tree limbs down when they emerged. “If I had known you were still at the lake, I would have come and found you. I’m sorry you went through that alone.”

“I was with a friend.” She patted his arm. “But thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

“I’d better go.” He stood. “I’ll see you next week in Red Wing.”

“Yes. I think it will be a great trip.” Charlotte tried to glance at the front window. Was Joel here yet? How would she explain Lewis’s presence if he was?

She walked with Lewis to the front door. “Thank you for coming.”

As he departed, she spotted Joel’s Model T parked at the curb, but he wasn’t inside the car or walking up to the house. Where was he? Had he decided to speak to a neighbor?

Nurse Pierce descended the stairs about the same time she closed the front door behind Lewis.

“Have you seen Dr. Brooks?” Charlotte asked.

“I thought that was him. That’s why I came down.”

“That was my friend Lewis. He’s the singer who travels with Molly and me.” She smiled. “Tessa is in the garden. Perhaps she’s seen him, or maybe a neighbor called him over.”

Charlotte slipped through the back door and spotted Tessa kneeling in front of a cluster of pansies, wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat with a wide yellow ribbon.

“Tessa, have you seen Joel?”

Her sister glanced up and smiled.

“Look behind you.”

She recognized the familiar deep voice and whirled around. “Joel. What are you doing out here?”

He handed her a forget-me-not. “I heard someone in the garden after I parked. I found Tessa out here and thought maybe I should brush up on my flowers and butterflies before the ball.”

“Ball?” Tessa stood up and wiped her dirty gloves together. Clumps of dirt fell to the ground. “Have I missed something?”

Charlotte filled her in.

“Will I get to go? I’ll need a new dress. When can we go shopping? And speaking of shopping, Aunt Sam wants to know what you’re wearing to the play next Friday. It is a premiere, after all.”

Joel leaned against a garden urn and met her gaze. “Yes, Charlotte, what are you wearing?”

Something in his eyes made her breath hitch. “I-I don’t know yet.”

He grinned. “I know what I’m wearing.”

“You’re going?” Her voice squeaked when she spoke.

“I am. With you—and the rest of your family. Your aunt invited me. She said she wants her doctor close by and her nurse as far away as possible.” He straightened. “Shall we leave Tessa to her flowers?”

They walked around the outside of the house and down the sidewalk to the Model T.

Joel glanced at her. “You do realize we haven’t fought all day.”

She giggled. “Ah, but the day isn’t over yet.”

He opened the door for her and then went around front to crank the engine. Once it was running, they putt-putted down Summit Hill. To her great relief, Joel said nothing about Lewis or the car Lewis had been driving. Perhaps he thought it belonged to a neighbor, or maybe he was simply waiting to see if she explained.

If that were the case, he’d be waiting a long time.

It didn’t take long to reach their destination. Along the way, Charlotte hadn’t prodded Joel with questions as to their destina
tion. She seemed to have taken his promise to introduce her to his “other” family at face value.

She’d been quiet on the way, but it hadn’t been an uncomfortable silence. It was more like the kind of peacefulness between people who don’t feel compelled to maintain a steady flow of conversation.

At least that’s what he hoped was going on. Maybe he should have asked if everything was all right.

He parked the automobile in front of the orphanage and went around to her side of the motorcar to open the door. As he helped her out, he flashed her an encouraging smile. He couldn’t wait. The girls in the orphanage were going to love her. He pulled a package off the floorboard and handed it to her before grabbing his doctor’s bag. “You can give them this.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not going to tell. It would ruin the surprise for all of you.”

As soon as Charlotte entered with him, all activity came to a stop and the children stared wide-eyed at her. She pulled off her gloves, smiled at them, and looked around the tidy but worn dwelling. Little Alice Ann grabbed onto Joel’s legs and peeked around.

Charlotte knelt in front of her. “Hello. Aren’t you a pretty thing. I’m Charlotte. What’s your name?”

Alice Ann didn’t say a word.

“Oh, you want to play a guessing game. All right.” She placed her finger on her cheek. “Let me see. You must be Polly Puddinghead.”

The four-year-old shook her head.

“Mary Mouse? Tillie Tea Leaves?”

Alice smiled at each new name, her blonde curls bobbing as she shook her head.

“One more try, okay?” She waited for Alice to respond. “I’m absolutely, positively sure your name must be Lucky Lucy Lemondrop.”