She drew in a soothing pull of air and then shut the door behind her with a controlled snap.
One more calming breath and Annabeth turned to face her mother.
Mattie had moved from her earlier position by the bookshelves. She now stood next to the fireplace. Her stance was deceptively casual, while her gaze remained sharp and unwavering. She had the attitude of a woman whose high opinion of herself far outweighed her place in the community. That regal bearing, along with her business acumen, had kept her at the top of her chosen profession for thirty years.
Annabeth resisted the urge to sigh. If only Mattie had used her many talents for legitimate purposes, maybe then Annabeth’s shame at having a madam for a mother would not exist. Nor, perhaps, would she crave respectability so desperately, to the point of setting aside all her other hopes and dreams.
A familiar ache tugged at her heart.
Oh, she knew Mattie loved her, without question or reservation. It was that knowledge that turned Annabeth’s shame back on herself.
The Bible taught that she should be sympathetic and love as Christ loved, to be compassionate and think of others before herself. That included her mother.
“Did Hunter get off all right?”
“Yes, fine.” And not at all the point. “How could you have contacted him, when I specifically asked you not to do so?”
“He’s the child’s father.” Mattie lifted her chin in defiance. “He deserved to know of her existence.”
Another bout of shame took hold. She’d been willing to keep a man’s own daughter from him, never mind the reason. “Maria didn’t want him to know about Sarah.”
“She didn’t want you to know about her, either.”
True. Annabeth had found out quite by accident. She’d been home from Miss Lindsey’s less than a week, humiliated and at a loss about what to do with her life after her expulsion from her position at the school. Mattie had insisted she return to Boston and make her fresh start there, going so far as to threaten to cut off financial support if Annabeth didn’t abide by her wishes.
At the time, Annabeth hadn’t seen the point. One city was as good as another to start over, and who needed Mattie’s money, anyway?
She’d been so naive, so headstrong.
Following that initial argument, there’d been many more heated discussions on the subject. A slip of the tongue on Mattie’s part, a bit of investigation on Annabeth’s part, and she’d discovered Sarah’s existence. One look at the child had been enough to give her a new purpose in life. And so she’d set out to provide a stable home for her niece.
Unfortunately, Mattie had followed through with her threat and had pulled all financial support. Annabeth had been forced to take a job teaching at Charity House. Neither of them had expected Annabeth to fall in love with her new life.
But now, with Hunter’s appearance, all her hard work of the past year stood on the precipice of collapsing.
Fear swept through her. “You should not have interfered,” she said again, more forceful than before.
“I stand by my decision.”
“He might take her away with him.”
Mattie dismissed the comment with a sniff. “It would be within his rights.”
Yes. It would. Hunter was Sarah’s father; Annabeth merely her aunt. Her half aunt, as Mattie constantly reminded her.
Giving into despair, Annabeth pressed her back against the shut door, slid to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest.
“I can’t lose her.” She tangled her fingers in her skirts. “I just can’t.”
“I understand, far better than you realize. But listen to me, Annabeth.” Mattie tried to smile, but her blue eyes, the same color and shape as Annabeth’s, had turned earnest, anxious, a little desperate. “I did not send you to Boston for an education alone. I sent you there to provide you with a better life than the one I could offer you here in Denver. No one knows me there, who I am, what I am. It was supposed to be your chance for a clean break.”
Sighing, Annabeth lowered her forehead to her knees. “I know all that. But things didn’t turn out so well, did they?”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t still go back and—”
“Mother, please.”
In a move completely out of character, Mattie joined her on floor. “You’re my daughter, Annabeth.” She squeezed her arm. “You know I love you.”
Annabeth swiveled her head to look at her bossy, annoying, pigheaded mother and a roll of affection spun in her stomach. Why did their relationship have to be so complicated? “I know you do. I...love you, too.”
The words were far easier to say than she’d expected. Regardless of what Mattie did for a living, she was Annabeth’s mother. Flawed and the source of much embarrassment, she’d done her best. What more could a daughter ask from a mother?
“I sent for Hunter for your protection. You’ll ruin your life over that child if you don’t have a care.”
Annabeth knew that, too. “I’m twenty-three years old.” Long past the first blush of youth. “I’m quite capable of knowing what’s best for me. And contrary to what you think, I’m happy.”
“You’re wasting your education.”
“How can you, of all people, say such a thing? I’m helping break the cycle of sin in those children’s lives.”
“I—”
“No, hear me out. I’m providing a solid, Christian education for boys and girls in desperate need of love and unconditional acceptance. It’s really no different than if I’d stayed on at Miss Lindsey’s and continued teaching there.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Annabeth.” Mattie spoke in her most patronizing voice, the one she reserved for rebellious employees. “You’re at Charity House because of Sarah.”
It might have started that way, but Annabeth had changed. Her desires and goals had changed, too. Where once, everything had been about her, she now acted for the benefit of others.
A blessing she couldn’t have imagined a year ago.
“If Hunter takes his child away with him,” Mattie continued, “you could return to Boston and marry a good man.”
“So that’s what this is all about? That’s why you contacted Hunter? You’re counting on him to take Sarah away, thereby giving me no reason to stay on at Charity House?”
“It’s the best solution for all parties.”
How could her mother look so casual, so unconcerned, when her interference was tearing apart the life Annabeth had made for herself?
“What if I never go back to Boston?”
“Now, Annabeth, let’s not be too hasty. You could still—”
“What if, Mother, I don’t leave Charity House after Sarah is gone?” Her voice hitched as she spoke, the reality of all she was about to lose settling over her like a millstone tied to her neck. “What if I choose to stay and teach at the school indefinitely?”
Mattie’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Oh, but she would. Not to spite her mother, but to fulfill her calling, a calling she hadn’t realized existed a year ago. Better still, she’d achieved a level of respectability she’d thought lost to her for good.
“This discussion is over.” Annabeth jumped to her feet.
Mattie followed suit, a little slower, but with surprising agility for a woman her age.
“Move aside, Mother.”