“Luke,” Felicity scolded, “it’s not polite to ask personal questions. Remember our rules for the dining room table.”
He hung his head. “Yes, Mom.”
“I’m sorry, dear,” Felicity said, her expression so concerned that it was almost as if Gabe had told her Mariah couldn’t have children. But she knew she could trust her brother to keep her secret.
“That’s all right,” Mariah said, though she couldn’t suppress the waves of embarrassment. “Children can’t help being curious.”
Felicity heaved a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. Children can be a challenge. Pets, too. What do you think, Gabe?” She looked to her husband, who gave his blessing. “Mariah, dear, we wanted to talk to you about the home I’m starting.”
Mariah blinked. “Home?”
“An animal haven for abandoned and unwanted pets,” Felicity explained. “I wanted to have it here in the parsonage, but the church trustees put their foot down.” She sighed. “I think Daddy had a lot to do with that. He and Mother are not much for pets.” She looked at Gabe, who smiled his agreement.
The simple gesture raised an uncontrollable envy deep in Mariah’s heart. Mom and Dad were like that, so closely allied in their minds and hearts that they could communicate with just a gesture, and now Gabe and Felicity appeared to be the same. Her older brothers had married happily as well. Only she walked alone.
Felicity bubbled on, “Remember my idea to start a home for orphans? I’d like to combine that with the animal haven, but we’d need a large house. The Elder house, behind the church, just came on the market. It would make the perfect parsonage, and then this house could be the orphanage.”
Mariah did recall that Felicity had proposed an orphanage two summers ago, but she’d thought that idea had passed. Clearly not. Felicity looked so pleased that Mariah couldn’t bring herself to explain how difficult it would be to start a private orphanage.
“All the paperwork has been approved, and now we’re ready to hire a director,” Felicity said pointedly. “Someone who loves children and animals. Think how perfect it would be. The children would learn the responsibility of caring for a pet and in return would receive unconditional love. But we need a director, and with the baby coming soon—” she sighed “—I can’t take it on.”
As if Mariah didn’t understand the offer, Gabe reaffirmed it. “What do you think, sis? You’d be perfect.”
Mariah concentrated on the china pattern with its delicate roses and gilded edge. She couldn’t leave her job. The orphans depended on her. She also couldn’t live so close to Hendrick. Yet Felicity had such hope that she’d accept. Mariah didn’t want to upset her.
“God has called me to the Society,” she said carefully, “but I’ll give it prayerful consideration.”
“You would still be working with orphans,” Felicity argued.
Mariah could see she wasn’t going to get out of this easily. “It’s not a decision to be made lightly.”
“I know.” Felicity sighed. “But it would set my mind at ease to have someone in charge before the baby arrives.”
Mariah knew when she’d been backed into a corner. She wasn’t as certain how to get out of it.
Luckily, Luke came to her rescue. “Is the deliveryman going to bring my baby brother?”
All the adults chuckled.
“No, Luke.” Felicity leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “I promise the baby will arrive soon, but not before dessert.”
“Dessert?” He squealed with delight when the housekeeper brought out chocolate cake, and the business with the baby was forgotten. “My favorite.” He pulled himself tight to the table as a slice of cake was placed before him.
Everyone was distracted for long, precious minutes, but after the last bite was eaten, the adults settled in the parlor with its brocaded wingback chairs and polished wood floors. Luke went outside to play with the dog, and conversation inevitably turned to adult topics.
“Tell me, Mariah,” Gabe began from his perch beside Felicity on the sofa, “how is Mr. Isaacs?”
Mariah shifted so she wouldn’t see Hendrick in the other wingback chair. Naturally, Gabe would inquire about his dear friend and director of the Orphaned Children’s Society, but this conversation was likely headed back to the job offer Mariah couldn’t possibly accept.
“A bit weary of government interference, I’m afraid,” she said, hoping the hint would dissuade Felicity.
“That hasn’t changed, then.”
“I’m afraid it’s gotten worse. It’s difficult to keep a private agency running these days.”
Instead of discouraging Felicity, her remark had just the opposite effect. “Then you should come here. You’d be the perfect director for our home.”
“Am I being railroaded?” Mariah shook her head with a laugh. “The truth is, I love my work. It’s where I belong.” And though she liked Pearlman, with its cozy streets and tight-knit community, the town had one big problem, currently seated in the other wingback chair.
“How many children does the Society handle each month now?” Gabe asked.
Mariah hesitated. That’s why the Detroit office had closed. “A handful.”
“Exactly. It used to be dozens.” Gabe’s brow puckered. “I can’t believe there are fewer children in need. They must be going to the state institutions.”
“Children belong with their families,” Hendrick stated.
Mariah was so surprised by the passion in his voice that she couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Agreed,” Gabe said. “That’s why Mariah’s going to Montana, to protect a child.”
Mariah’s jaw dropped. The room got deathly quiet. Hendrick, Anna and Felicity all looked stunned. Why had Gabe said that when he’d made her promise not to tell Felicity? She stared at her brother until she realized that he hadn’t mentioned Luke. His statement had been vague. She could be going to help any child.
Felicity recovered first. “I didn’t realize the Society placed children that far west.”
Mariah knew her cheeks were glowing but she hoped Felicity would just think she was warm. “They’ve sent children to many Western states.” That was true, though none had gone that far west in years.
Hendrick looked like he was gagging. He kept pulling at his collar until he managed to ask in a strangled voice, “You’re driving to Montana by yourself?”
“She might think she’s going by herself,” said Gabe, “but as her brother, I insist she take someone with her.”
“I’ll go,” Anna instantly volunteered.
“Wait,” Mariah cried. This was rapidly spinning out of control.
No one paid her the slightest attention.
Hendrick glared at his sister. “Mariah doesn’t need to look after a girl.”
“I’m not a girl,” Anna said hotly. “I’m nineteen.”
“And know nothing about the world,” he added.
A thought crept into Mariah’s head. Perhaps taking Anna along would satisfy Gabe. She did enjoy the girl’s company. How much trouble could she be? Certainly less than Hendrick.
“I think it’s a splendid idea,” Mariah said.
Anna beamed. “See?”
“That’s solved,” said Gabe. “Now all you need is a mechanic.”