think you’ll be hanging a sign out on your own business before too long, Millicent,” Elizabeth said. “These are all very good and they show exactly what I hoped they would. Thank you.”
“Thank you and John for allowing me to shoot these. I’m glad to be able to help garner attention to these places. Surely something will be done.”
“That’s what we’re hoping for.”
“Are we done for now?” John asked.
Elizabeth nodded. “I suppose so. I’ll let you know which ones my editor wants to use, Millicent. I have no doubt that he’ll want several.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth. I guess I’ll go join the others in the parlor. Sounds like they’re having a sing-along.”
The sound of piano music drifted down the hall. “It does sound like that,” Luke said. “Want to join them, Kathleen?”
“I’d love to.” She turned back to Elizabeth. “You coming?”
“Not tonight. I think I’ll go up and take some notes on what I saw today and what Millicent’s photographs have brought to mind. I’ll see you all in the morning.”
“What about you, John?” Luke asked.
“No, I think I’ll go down and put the finishing touches on my article. Thank you for suggesting this, Kathleen. I think this may get me promoted one of these days.”
And that’s what it was all about for him. Making a name for himself, getting it splashed on the front page of the Tribune. Elizabeth headed out the door, photos in hand. If she wasn’t so frustrated with him, she might feel sorry for him.
* * *
John felt unsettled as he went back to his room. He wasn’t in the mood to sing around a piano tonight. He’d upset Elizabeth and felt bad about it. She had a right to be angry with him for grabbing the photos before she’d had a chance to look at them. But even though he’d apologized and she’d seemed to accept it, he could tell she still wasn’t happy when she went upstairs.
And that wasn’t like Elizabeth at all. She was usually the most even-tempered of all the boarders, so much so that he sometimes liked to “get a rise” out of her as Ben had put it the other day. Her hazel eyes would flash almost gold and her face would flush a lovely shade of pink that went clear to her light blond hairline.
But the last few days had been different—she’d seemed out of sorts ever since their collision the other day. He knew she’d been irritated about the last-minute summons to her aunt’s; maybe there were family problems he knew nothing about. There was more he didn’t know about Elizabeth than what he did, after all.
And it did him no good to surmise what might be wrong. As the fiasco with Melody had shown him, his instincts where women were concerned seemed to always be wrong and weren’t to be trusted.
Instead of working on his article, he took a seat in the easy chair Mrs. Heaton had added to each of the men’s rooms and leaned back his head. Melody. He didn’t think of her often anymore, only as a memory to remind him that he never wanted to put his heart on the line again.
He’d thought he had it made down in Natchez, Mississippi. He was lead reporter of the Natchez Daily, and the owner’s daughter had begun to flirt with him, asking him to go on a picnic with her and even inviting him to dinner on occasion. John had begun to believe he had a real chance with her and had actually dreamed of the family they might have one day, if he ever got up enough nerve to ask her to marry him. But then his dreams crashed around him.
A young new reporter was hired at the paper and began flirting with Melody. When John questioned her about it, she told John he was imagining things and not to worry, he was the one she cared about. But when John caught the two kissing in a darkened hallway, a fight ensued. Evidently the kiss wasn’t all one-sided because Melody took up for the other man and blamed John for the fight.
Her father believed her, of course, and fired John then and there. Realizing that a terribly spoiled Melody had only led him on—whether out of boredom or cruelty, he didn’t know—but feeling he’d been made a fool, he caught a train to take him as far away as he could get the very next morning.
From then on he decided never to fall prey to a woman’s wiles again—and particularly wealthy young women who gave no thought to others’ feelings. He might get lonely from time to time, but his heart was whole now and he intended to keep it that way, even if there were times when he longed for more.
He had a good life and couldn’t complain. He enjoyed the family atmosphere living at Heaton House gave him and things at the paper were looking up. With his editor interested in a series of stories, he felt certain he was on the verge of getting the byline that would name him one of the best reporters in the city. And right now, that was all that really mattered.
Normally Elizabeth would have stayed down and enjoyed the company of the other boarders, but she was still aggravated with John and didn’t feel up to faking a good mood.
She went upstairs wondering why she was letting John get under her skin so much lately. Normally she was able to throw off her irritation at him, and sometimes even enjoyed the usually good-natured sparing back and forth between them.
As she readied for bed, she wondered why things seemed to be changing. In the past few months, since they’d started working together to bring attention to the needs in the tenements and their first articles had received good attention, the spark of friendly competition that had always existed between them seemed to be settling down. Until tonight, when it was obvious that John was intent on getting the photographs he wanted before she had a chance to look at them. She hoped this working together, as Kathleen wanted them to, wasn’t going to turn that spark of competition into a flame.
She couldn’t let that happen. It would affect all the others at Heaton House, almost forcing them to choose sides, and she couldn’t do that to them or Mrs. Heaton.
She felt even worse about her attitude in front of Kathleen, Millicent and Luke. She tied her wrap tight around her waist and sat down at her writing desk. She pulled her Bible close and held it to her chest as she whispered, “Dear Lord, please forgive me for acting the way I have today. Please help me not to get so irritated at John—and please help me to control my words and actions when I do. I don’t know what it is about him that gets such a rise out of me, but please help me to laugh things off and not get so upset with him. I do want him to succeed at the Tribune. I want him to become a lead reporter. I just wish he weren’t so...full of himself so often.”
She sighed and shook her head as she continued praying. “I’m sorry, Lord. There I go being judgmental of him. Please forgive me. I don’t want to be that way about anyone. I don’t want to be irritated at him. I don’t think he means to hurt my feelings or insult my work. At least I hope not. Please help me not to take his remarks so seriously, and not to show my temper when I do. Thank you for all my many blessings. Please help me to write these articles in such a way that they can help and, that in all I do, I bring glory to Your name. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
She took a cleansing breath, pulled her notepad toward her and began looking over the photos Millicent had taken. Ideas on each photo began to bubble up and she wrote notes on each of them. She wanted to get the story to her editor as soon as possible in the coming week. John’s article would be sure to come out first—the Tribune was a daily paper after all. But it was a good thing, because when the Delineator came out on the first of the month, her article would serve to reinforce the need for action on the part of the city to do something about the neglect. Together, their staggered articles could help, and that was what she concentrated on as she mulled over where she wanted to start and what she wanted to get across to her readers. And in such a way that it wouldn’t be considered fluff by John.
* * *
John had worked into the night and was nearly late for church