The Roswell Legacy Frances Statham (mini ebook reader .txt) 📖

“No. I really want to go, Morrow.”

“Good. Then that’s settled.”

There was a noise on the stairway, as Ginna’s trunk, valise, and hatbox were brought up. And David, hearing the commotion, ran to the top of the stairs to direct the carrier. “In here,” he said. “Hurry, Mateo. I have two presents to open.”

Morrow shook her head as David watched Ginna open the valise and remove a package from it.

“Here’s the one from your grandmother,” Ginna said. “You can be opening it while I find the key to my trunk. Your other present is in it.”

David immediately sat on the floor and tore off the wrapping paper. A small carved rocking horse appeared. As soon as he placed it on the floor to rock it back and forth, music began to play.

“Mother always adds to his collection of wooden horses if she can,” Morrow said.

Ginna removed the top tray to the trunk and searched for a box nestled amid her dresses. “I’m glad you love horses, David. So do I.” And she handed him the box.

Very politely, he looked up at her. “Thank you, Aunt Ginna.”

She waited as his excited hands removed the lid and carefully took out each piece, wrapped in tissue paper. He sucked in his breath as they became visible: a toy calèche made of tin, painted brown and white; two white horses to draw the carriage; and a coachman and a lady, dressed in the French fashion.

“Oh, Ginna, how exquisite,” Morrow said.

“It was my own. But I’ve outgrown it now, and I wanted David to have it.”

“Thank you, Ginna.” She turned to her son. “Well, David, let’s take your presents and go find Nanny. I’m sure Ginna is ready to rest.” With that, the two left the bedroom and Ginna suddenly found herself alone for the first time in days.

She slowly walked to the window and looked out. She had not told Morrow that her father had given her the French calèche the Christmas she was nine, and that it had been one of her favorite toys. Passing it on to David now was her way of making her father’s presence in the house real. He had missed so much.

At the sound of a knock on the door, she turned from the window.

“I’ve come to tell you that supper will be ready in fifteen minutes, Miss Ginna. And right after supper I’ll help you unpack your trunk. So don’t bother with it now.”

“Thank you, Allie.”

She took her comb and brush from the valise and hurried toward the bath. She had just enough time to wash her face and comb the tangles out of her hair. A time for introspection would come later that night, when she was alone. For the next few hours, she would have to force herself to be congenial company, not a small task with her problems threatening to overwhelm her. She had not left them behind in Washington. She had brought them with her as surely as the clothes that waited to be unpacked.

Once she was ready, she walked downstairs.

The evening spent with Morrow and Andrew was a decidedly pleasant one, containing no stilted words or awkward silences. They accepted her readily, and for that one evening, Ginna pretended that she and Jonathan were still engaged. She was part of a warm, loving family—feeling safe and secure, the way she had that day in Jonathan’s arms when he had given her the ring.

And later that night, when she was finally alone, Ginna had no wish to disturb the dream. She drifted off to sleep almost as soon as her head felt the soft pillow. Harsh reality could wait another day.

By the next morning, the sounds and breakfast smells of a house awakening slowly spiraled upward and teased Ginna, causing her to wrinkle her nose and finally open her eyes. From the foot of her bed, Morrow’s son was watching her.

“Good morning, David.”

He climbed up on the side of the bed. “Mommy said not to wake you until Nanny told me I could.”

“Then it’s time to get up?”

“Yes.” He immediately slid off the bed and ran out of the room, leaving Ginna alone.

Once she was up and dressed, Ginna followed her nose to the breakfast room, where Morrow was already waiting. “Good morning, Ginna. I trust you slept well?”

“Oh, yes. I didn’t realize how tired I actually was. One minute I was awake and the next minute David was telling me it was time to get up.”

As Ginna and Morrow sat down at the table, Morrow said, “Andrew left early this morning, so we’ll have breakfast to ourselves. And after breakfast we’ll start out. This is the day I usually take a basket of food staples to a poor family in the tenements—the Andrettis. We’ll go there first, if you don’t mind. And then we’ll be at the settlement house by ten o’clock.”

She glanced at Ginna’s dress. “But if I were you, I’d wear something that I don’t care about. Sometimes we get down on the floor with the children.”

“I have my artist’s pinafore with me. Perhaps I can take it to put on over my dress.”

“Perfect.”

As the carriage traveled from the more elegant section along the lake toward the slums, Morrow said, “You’ll have to ignore some of the language you hear in the streets, Ginna. And Sunday morning, when we attend the champagne breakfast at the club, please don’t tell Lila Montgomery that I brought you along today. She would be absolutely appalled.”

“I understand.”

They passed through the carnivallike atmosphere, the same route that Allie and Morrow had taken the previous week. And though the men gathered in the streets presented no obstacle, the noise as they approached the bordellos was considerable, with the parrot screeching his raucous cry. Ginna’s eyes widened at the sight of a half-dressed woman leaning out of one of the windows.

“I’m sorry, Ginna. This must be a little shocking to you. But it’s part of life. And nothing will be gained by merely turning