a pretty name,” Caroline said gently. “And you’re wearing such a pretty dress. I bet you like to play with dolls.”
Her head bobbed up and she nodded.
“Good,” Caroline declared. “So do I.”
The major spoke to her back. “Miss Caroline, I don’t think—”
“I do.” Ignoring him, she opened the drawstring bag and gave Dora the doll. “I made this for you.”
The major’s voice boomed behind her. “Miss Bradley!”
He sounded ready to court-martial her, but she had to give the book to Freddie the way she’d given the doll to Dora. She took the volume from the bag, stood tall and handed it to the boy. “This is for you, Freddie.”
The major had said little about the boy’s interests, so she’d taken advice from Mary Quinn’s young brother and selected a science book with easy experiments. “We can use kitchen items to make a volcano. That should be fun.”
Freddie’s eyes lit up, but he looked to his father for direction.
Not wanting the boy to be a pawn, Caroline faced the major. She recalled how he’d ignored her when she’d wanted to tell him about the quinine. It went against her nature to be rude, so she gave him a wistful smile. “Forgive me, Major Smith. I was just so excited to meet your children. I’m sure you understand.”
She’d meant to bridge the gap between the major and Freddie and Dora. Instead she felt as if she were in the middle of the river again, only this time Major Smith needed to be led to shore. He looked both stunned and bitter about his poor health. Caroline couldn’t abide his attitude toward Freddie and Dora, but neither would she do him the dishonor of being blunt. His children were present, and Bessie and Jon were watching them with more than idle curiosity.
She softened the moment with a winsome smile. “I do apologize, Major Smith. With your permission, I’d like to speak to Dora and Freddie for a just another moment.”
He made a sweeping motion with his arm. “By all means, Miss Bradley. Speak as long as you’d like. Take all afternoon … take all night.”
Ignoring the sarcasm, she crouched next to Dora. “I thought we could name your new doll together.”
Dora’s bottom lip pushed into a pout, trembling until she finally spoke. “I want to name her Molly.”
Freddie elbowed his sister. “You can’t!”
“Why not?” Dora whined back.
“Because that was Mama’s name.”
The boy had the cold tone of an undertaker, but Caroline wasn’t fooled. He’d built a wall to protect his bruised heart. Dora’s innocent attempt to keep her mother’s memory alive hit the wall like a battering ram. Behind her the major inhaled deeply, a sign he wasn’t as indifferent to his children as he wanted to appear. Hoping to smooth the waters, she touched Dora’s shoulder. “Molly’s a fine name. It would honor your mother, but we need to consider your father and Freddie, too. We can give the doll two names, a special middle name and one for everyday.”
“Do you have two names?” Dora asked.
“I do,” Caroline answered. “I’m Caroline Margaret Bradley. Margaret is after my grandmother.”
Dora looked at her father. “What’s my other name?”
A five-year-old shouldn’t have needed to ask that question. She should have been loved and schooled in family memories. When the major hesitated, she wondered if he knew the answer.
He finally cleared his throat. “Your full name is Theodora Constance Smith. Constance was your mother’s sister.”
Dora’s eyes got wide. “I can’t write all that!”
Caroline took the child’s hand and squeezed. “I’ll teach you.”
Standing, she turned to Freddie. The boy’s expression was strained, a mirror image of his father. She’d have to work to win him over, but she firmly believed God had brought her to this family for a purpose. Not only did the children need a mother, but they also needed a father who wasn’t afraid to love them.
She motioned for Bessie to come forward. “This is my sister, Miss Elizabeth Bradley. You can call her Miss Bessie.” Hoping to earn Freddie’s interest, Caroline spoke to him directly. “She was a nurse in the war.”
Freddie tried to seem bored, but his brows lifted with curiosity. Bessie greeted the boy, then said hello to Dora. Both children enjoyed the attention.
Caroline thought the first meeting went well. She turned to express her pleasure to Major Smith and saw a frown creasing the corners of his mouth. He dismissed the children with a terse order to go back inside, instructed Jon to report their arrival to the stage office, then motioned for Caroline and Bessie to enter the house. In the entry hall she saw a tall black man. When he broke into a smile, she thought of Charles.
“Good evening, Miss Bradley.” He greeted her with a slight bow. “Welcome to Wheeler Springs.”
Major Smith stood to the side. “Ladies, this is Sergeant Noah Taylor. Noah, I’d like you to meet the Bradley sisters, Miss Bessie and Miss Caroline.”
She and this man were peers and equals, employees of the major. Caroline extended her hand. “Please call me Caroline.”
“Yes, Caroline.”
He greeted Bessie with equal aplomb. Behind him a black woman emerged from the kitchen. Tall and graceful, she looked at Major Smith with a mix of dignity and frustration. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Major Smith answered with a nod. “Ladies, this is Evaline. She’s Noah’s wife and will show you to your rooms.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “But first I must apologize.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Does this have something to do with my children being here?”
The woman dipped her chin. “I know you left orders to keep them at The Barracks, but they were lonely for you.”
Caroline loved Evaline on the spot. She’d risked a scolding to do right by the children. The major claimed no one disobeyed him, but his housekeeper had the freedom to follow her conscience. The major gave orders, but he wasn’t unreasonable. Deep down, he cared about people. It showed, if one knew where to look.
Looking wry, he traded a look with Noah. “I seem to have lost all authority.”
The man grinned. “No, sir. Just with Evaline.”
The major harrumphed but made no effort to scold the woman. Instead he seemed to forget all about the transgression. “See to it the Bradley women have bathwater and whatever else they need.” He turned back to Caroline. “Supper will be served at seven o’clock. The children will be present.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
Evaline indicated the stairs. “This way, ladies.”
The housekeeper led the way with Bessie behind her and Caroline bringing up the rear. When she reached the landing, she looked down. At the same instant, the major looked up. Their gazes locked in a test of wills. She’d defied him when she’d spoken to the children, and he’d let her. Neither had he chastised Evaline. The major conducted himself with acerbic authority, but his final decisions showed respect, even a deep caring, for his friends and family. Why would he be so cold on the outside when he plainly loved Freddie and Dora?
They looked away from each other at the same time. Silent but determined to bring joy to this troubled household, she followed Evaline and Bessie up the stairs.
It was a sad day when a man’s housekeeper disobeyed him and he let her. It was an even sadder day when he couldn’t control the governess, or even his own children. Wondering why he bothered to issue orders at