Once Upon A Thanksgiving: Season of Bounty / Home for Thanksgiving

Her parents both sat in the drawing room and glanced up as Kathleen hurried in, rubbing her hands together to ease the chill.

“You’re very late,” Mother said. “I was beginning to worry.”

Father lowered the papers he’d been reading and studied Kathleen. “I’m still not comfortable with you going to that woman’s shack. It’s in a rough area of town. You aren’t safe.”

Kathleen held back annoyance at their continued resistance to her being friends with Rosie. “There is no danger.” For some reason, Buck’s image flitted through her mind. There was something about him his sister considered threatening, but she couldn’t imagine it was the kind of danger her father meant. “Rosie and her children are very nice people. You would like them if you ever got to know them.”

Mother fluttered her hand. “That’s not likely to ever happen, is it? We simply don’t belong in the same circles.”

Kathleen had invited Rosie to attend church with her. Assured her she would be welcome. “I would think rich and poor are both welcome in the church.”

“Why, of course they are.” But Rosie heard her unspoken qualifier—just don’t expect us to sit in the same pew.

Having no desire to argue with them or upset them, Kathleen let the topic end. She sank to an ottoman at her mother’s knees and took her hands. “How have you been this afternoon?”

“I’ve managed to sit up and read a bit.” Mother’s voice quavered. “I’m sure I’m getting stronger.”

Father set aside his papers. “Kathleen, I should think you could see your mother needs your care. I don’t like you neglecting her when she’s not well.”

Stung by his criticism, Kathleen remained on the stool beside her mother. “Mother sleeps much of the afternoon. I only intend to be gone during that time.”

He glanced at the big grandfather clock ticking out the seconds in demanding rhythm.

“Today was different. Rosie’s brother and his little boy showed up, and the time simply slipped away on me.”

Father leaned forward in his chair. “A brother? Good. He can take care of his sister and you can find a more suitable pastime.” He sat back, satisfied life would fit into his sense of right and order.

“Father, I promised her I would help her sew a quilt. I told her I would return tomorrow. I hope you won’t say I can’t go.” She couldn’t imagine returning to the boredom of sitting quietly in an armchair reading as her mother slept.

Father tapped his knee and considered her. “You used to be such an obedient child. I should never have sent you East to that college. They’ve filled your head with all sorts of radical ideas. I’m glad you’ve had cause to return home. Given time, I expect you will come to your senses.” He flipped the paper in front of his face, signaling he’d spoken his last word on the subject.

Kathleen eased a sigh of relief over her teeth. At least he hadn’t forbidden her to return, which left her free to do so. In the future, she would simply return before the afternoon was spent.

She schooled herself not to smile with anticipation of a visit the next day. Nor would she admit, even to herself, that it was the thought of seeing Buck again that brought the smile to her lips.

She only wanted to assess if the affection she’d witnessed was as evident as she remembered. And check if Joey was feeling better.

Buck sponged Joey several more times and fed him more broth throughout the evening. For now he seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

Rosie glanced in on them. “Likely all he needs is a warm bed and decent food.”

“I hope you’re right.” If anything happened to the boy—”I’ve grown to love him more than I imagined possible.”

“It’s pretty obvious.” She remained in the doorway. “Care to join me for tea?”

He draped an arm across her shoulders. “Just like old times?”

She patted his hand. “Buck, I’d just as soon forget about old times, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” They sat across from each other, nursing warm cups of steaming tea. “So who is this Kathleen Sanderson and why is she visiting you?”

Rosie bristled. “What? I’m not fit for the likes of her to cross my threshold?”

He chuckled. “Is that what you think?”

“Sometimes.”

“Guess we’ve both got reason to consider others think that very thing. So who is she and why is she here?”

“Kathleen’s father is the richest man in town.”

A punch of alarm raced up Buck’s spine. Rich men with beautiful daughters were the worst sort. They didn’t want the likes of Buck to even be in the same town. “If her father learns who I am …”

“And who I am.” Her gaze bored into his—angry at his visit to her home. “You should never have come here. You promised you wouldn’t.”

“It’s only for Joey and then I’ll be gone.” He glanced about the house. There were days he wished he didn’t have to keep on the move. But wishing didn’t change the facts. “I’ll do my best to keep our secret from Kathleen. I can think of no reason she’d suspect who I am. Why should anyone be suspicious of your brother visiting? Your married name gives no clue as to who we are.” He didn’t want to think about his past. “Tell me how you met her.”

“The Sandersons live in a big house. Even have a cook and housekeeper. Can you imagine paying someone to clean your house? ‘Course, it’s a mighty big house and dust probably isn’t allowed to settle for even a minute. Someday I’m going to ask Kathleen how many rooms there are.”

Buck sighed. Seemed he was going to get a detailed description of the house before she explained about Kathleen.

She must have guessed at his impatience. “Won’t likely ever see inside the place, now will I?” She shrugged. “Not that it matters. I’m happy enough here, and Kathleen doesn’t seem to mind how small and mean my house is.” She told about Kathleen helping her home one afternoon as she struggled to corral young Mattie. “Since then she visits me, plays with the kids. Even helps with the dishes if they aren’t done when she gets here. Now she says she wants to help me make a quilt for the children.” She rocked her head back and forth. “I just don’t understand why.”

“Have you asked her?”

“I did. All she said was she couldn’t bear the thought of me living on the edge of town with no friends. Though from what she says, I think she’s as lonely as I am. She’d like me to go to church with her but I can’t. If I let myself care about people and what they think, it only hurts the more when they discover the truth.” Her eyes hardened. “Someone is likely to, now that you’re here. Once they realize our father was—” She clamped her lips together as tears swelled in her eyes.

He filled in the blank she’d left. “A murderer.” Saying the word forced him back to reality. “Don’t worry. I won’t be around long enough for anyone to take notice.” Though he wished things could be different. Wished he could offer Joey a real home. Wished he could belong somewhere. With someone. A forbidden dream flashed through his thoughts of home and a woman. He’d had the thought before, and always the woman was faceless. Just a presence. But this time she had a face and voice … those of Kathleen Sanderson. “I will leave as soon as Joey is rested. Before people find out and drive us out of town.” He knew his voice had grown hard. Rosie would understand why. They shared a secret with the power to destroy their lives. He understood why Rosie would be cautious about making friends. A person needed to be able to leave when the time came with no regrets, no glancing back over one’s shoulder.

Yet he rose the next morning wondering if Kathleen would return as she had promised Rosie.

Rosie noticed how many times he glanced out the window and laughed. “She won’t be along for a bit. She never comes until after lunch when her mother is napping.”

“I wasn’t looking for her.”

“Sure you were.”

“Only because I wondered if she would come as she promised.”

Rosie grew serious. “I always wonder the same thing, but every time she’s said she’d come, she has.”

Joey sat at the table spooning in thin porridge. “Buck, who you waiting for?”

He turned away from the window. “Nobody. Just checking the weather.”

Rosie snorted. “She’s not your sort.”

“No one is.” They both knew what he meant, and he sat at the table to consider his two nephews. Sturdy-looking boys. Made Joey look as thin as he was. “Your boys appear well fed.”