CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Henry gave Elizabeth time to gather her thoughts. She looked rattled, and he didn’t blame her. He didn’t want to know the details of John’s and her private affairs, but he had a responsibility to get to the bottom of Johnny Smith’s paternity. Elizabeth was the one who had opened the can of worms, but he was the one who would have to sort through the facts.
She dropped her gaze to the boards beneath his feet. The evening was cool. A host of night sounds broke the silence around them. The hoot of an owl. A coyote serenading the moon. He fought not to look at her. Now, in order to help her son, she’d have to tell a stranger about meeting John and the few days they’d spent together. Pity grew in his belly. Raising her child on her own couldn’t have been easy. Why he should care so much had him a bit mystified, except that she might have meant something to John. What kind of a woman was Elizabeth Smith—a name he was sure she’d made up to cover her true identity in case things didn’t go as she hoped?
“Mrs. Smith?”
“Yes, I heard you. I knew that I’d eventually have to explain everything if I came to Eden. I don’t blame you, Mr. Glass; it’s just a bit private, if you can understand. Please don’t feel bad about having asked. You want to know when and where I met John, and how Johnny came to be.”
“That’s right. Since John never mentioned you, I have to be skeptical. My position demands it.”
They both took a breath and sat for a moment looking at each other.
“What you say will be kept in the strictest confidence. You can trust me.”
She nodded. “It was five years ago April. I came to Denver with my longtime employers as the nanny to their three children. Each day, for several hours, I’d take the children and tour the parks, the museums, or for a carriage ride around the city. My employers were very wealthy. Any expense was not too much for the children.”
“You’re a nanny?”
In the dim lantern light, he watched as her cheeks grew rosy. He hadn’t meant to cause her embarrassment. Her direct gaze and the way she held her chin made it difficult for him to believe she was lying.
“I was a nanny. And I loved my job. Since leaving, I’ve taken in sewing to survive. I’ve never before said this much to anyone, Mr. Glass.”
He nodded.
“Mrs. Masters, my employer, knows a small portion of the truth. I had to tell her something when my condition began to show. She insisted Mr. Masters needn’t know the details of my leaving their employ, which I’d been in for ten years. First in service and then as a nanny. After I moved and got set up as a widow in Denver, she wanted to help. Insisted on sending a small stipend. I want you to know, Mr. Glass, I’ve kept track of every cent, intending to pay her back. Without her help, I don’t know what we would have done.”
He rubbed a palm across his mouth, admiring her bravery. Not everyone would admit to such a past and risk ridicule and expulsion. He reminded himself to stay introspective. She hadn’t yet proved her story.
“How did you and John meet?”
“Five years has softened the pain, but speaking about John is still difficult. We didn’t know each other long—two ships passing in the night, you might say—but those few days were wonderful. A time I’ll never forget.” She took a breath. “We first met at the Denver Park. I had my little ones, ages three to eight, gathered around, and we were watching two small white bunnies hiding under a hedge. Every few minutes one would gather the courage needed to dash out, hop around on the lush green grass for a few moments, and then race back to his spot of safety in the blackthorn hedgerow, causing the children to laugh uncontrollably. John had been walking on a trail and heard us. He came to see what was going on.”
Henry kept any expression off his face.
“He wore a pair of tan slacks, a midlength coat that was much too warm for the day, and a brown cowboy hat. The children were only too happy to answer his questions, and he seemed in no hurry to move on. As a matter of fact, he stayed with us for the rest of the day, walking and talking. He said he was a rancher, but didn’t say where—or if he did, I didn’t hear him. I had to keep a close eye on Leanne, the youngest of my charges, who was enthralled with a pair of mallards. I didn’t want her to slip into the pond.”
She looked off into the darkness and then back into his face. “What can I say? John and I liked each other. He was funny and kind. After hours spent caring for the children, speaking with an adult who was interested in my thoughts and opinions was nice. We held similar views on many topics.”
Henry could understand that well enough.
“The next day, John was there again, waiting for us to arrive, with a large basket of food and a blanket. He’d brought a kite, a ball, and numerous other toys. He had such a wonderful way with the children. I found myself hanging on his every word, but I was still cautious, not knowing any of his history or where he was from. I didn’t want to appear forward, so I didn’t question him. The week passed with each day the same. We grew closer. That scared me. I’m an orphan. I’d been single all my life. It wasn’t as if he was holding back about himself; we just found other things to talk about. Then one day, after hours spent sightseeing, he invited me to have supper with him after the children were put to bed and I had time to myself. I didn’t know what to do. I struggled with whether I should encourage the budding relationship because of how we’d feel when we parted. Because parting was inevitable. I lived in Virginia with my employer’s family. John hadn’t even hinted at anything more.”
If she was making this up, she’d done a good job with the details. She described John true to form. He enjoyed the small things in life, like fried chicken on a blanket, laughter, the feel of rain on his skin. She’d perfectly described his clothing and mannerisms. Was Johnny Smith really Johnny Brinkman? The thought brought Henry great excitement.
“That evening, after dinner, he invited me to his hotel.” She looked Henry straight in the eye in challenge. “I’m not a loose woman, Mr. Glass, and I was thirty years old. Hardly a girl. I went because I wanted to, asking nothing from John in return.”
He gave a slight nod but didn’t say anything.
“Late that night, back in my hotel, I was awakened by Mrs. Masters. Practically in hysterics, she told me to pack the children’s things. She’d ordered a carriage that would arrive any moment to take us to the train station. Because of the sensitivity of the subject, I won’t share why she ran off without her husband’s knowledge except to say he had broken her heart. I wanted to leave a note for John but didn’t have time. I believed I’d be able to send a telegram to him later, to his hotel, after we arrived wherever we were going, but he’d checked out as well. I didn’t know where to find him.”
Poor John. Two women lost to him. One intentionally, the other by mistake. Henry wondered if that was really the case. “You said earlier that you’d seen an announcement about John in a paper?”
She nodded.
“Which one?” He’d supplied the obituary along with a photograph for halftones to several publications. John was an important figure in Colorado.
“The Rocky Mountain News.”
Correct. “What did you say you do for a living now?”
“Alterations in a tailor shop. That’s where I saw the paper. A customer left the copy behind after a fitting. I was stunned to see John’s face after all those years.”
Henry studied the sentiment that had just thundered across her face. Either she’s a darned good actress or she’s truly moved.
The timeline worked.
A few feet over, Sebastian stepped out the front door. He looked at them a few moments before saying, “Your boy’s woke up. He’s calling for ya.”
Elizabeth surged to her feet. “Thank you.”
Sebastian nodded and disappeared inside.
She turned back to Henry.
“Are you all right staying here while I look into your statements?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Don’t worry about the board. I’ll take care of that. Can you give me a few weeks? I know that sounds like a long time, but I can’t see it happening any sooner.”
She nodded and hurried away.
Henry remained on the porch alone, thinking of his life since coming to Eden to do work for the railroads. That felt like a lifetime ago. Caught up in his work, he hadn’t been lonely. Not so now. His chest pushed in with thoughts of going home to his quiet rooms above the mercantile instead of to a wife and family. He glanced at the door Elizabeth had gone through not two minutes before.
How will all this turn out? He was staring his most challenging case to date in the face—the face of a small boy.