Meg dropped another pan. She’d been up late again, praying, thinking, and, to her own dismay, crying. It was as if years of pent up emotions were avalanching with an uncontrollable force. She knew prayer would be a bit tricky, but she did not expect for it to be a catharsis.
“Sorry, gentlemen,” Meg rubbed her forehead, “I am not myself today.”
“Is there anything we can do?” Frank asked, mopping the floor for the fifth time. She’d never met any man who was so clean. Even though she understood these two were peculiar, their need for cleanliness was beyond her.
Meg shook her head. “I want you two to go get some sleep. I promised the workers chicken fried steak for breakfast, so I’ll want to start the flap jacks early. The steak will be cold if we cook it first.” She smiled at her two helpers, touched by their constant eagerness to help.
“Chicken fried steak for breakfast?” Bill shook his head, “Madam Claremont would be ashamed.”
Frank dropped the mop, closed his eyes and began patting his forehead with his left hand over and over. “Stupid! Stupid Frank!” he muttered to himself, trying to clumsily pick up the mop.
Meg’s eyes widened as Bill himself looked like he was about to cry.
“Why did I say that? Why, why, why?” Bill asked himself, shaking his head.
Meg frowned. What was happening? “Gentlemen, who is Madam Claremont?” She instantly regretted her words, because Bill did begin to full out cry, and Frank grabbed the mop and began cleaning so fiercely he fell and continued to mutter and call himself stupid. The behavior frightened Meg. Not that she felt afraid of these young men, they couldn’t kill even a fly—in truth, they couldn’t kill any bug, but instead tried to capture and release any unwanted critters.
“What is wrong?” Meg cried out. “Please, stop!” She wrung her hands nervously as their behavior intensified.
A shadow fell through the doorway and Jeffries’s tall frame walked in. “Bill, Frank,” his booming voice filled the kitchen and the two young men fell silent, the muscles in their faces relaxing. Jeffries smiled and spoke slowly. “I want you to go home and drink a cup of hot cocoa. Do you understand?”
Bill wiped his eyes. “Yes, Mr. Jeffries. We understand.”
Meg felt her eyes cloud with tears as her two friends walked out the door with hunched shoulders. Had she done something wrong? She looked up at Jeffries whose jaw was clenched.
“They will be fine, Miss Meg.”
She sniffed. “What did I do wrong? Bill brought up a Madam Claremont, and I asked about who she was, and then they …”
The manager shook his head, a fire lighting in his eyes. “Madam Claremont was not a good woman, Miss Meg. She nearly killed those two.”
Meg felt her skin grow cold. “What do you mean ‘nearly killed them?’”
Jeffries walked closer and lowered his voice. “When the mother of those two realized they were a bit slow in thinking, she didn’t hesitate in abandoning them on the streets. Naturally, they were put in an orphanage under the guidance of a Madam Claremont. She was a harsh, cruel woman who took advantage of their kind and subservient nature. They were forced to clean day and night, and if anything was not up to Claremont’s approval, they were beaten and left in the cellar to freeze and starve for three days at a time. This went on most of their life. I am sure you have noticed how clean and tidy they are—that is because they got beaten if they weren’t.”
Meg’s throat tightened and tears fell down her cheeks. Sweet twins—her sweet twins. Why were people so wicked? Why did they prey off weak things like the twins, like her?
“How did they come here?” Meg asked.
“Mr. Castle and I met up with an associate who had recently adopted a son. This boy told his parents about the twins and they told us. Naturally, we investigated and it was worse than one could imagine. The place was shut down, and I took the two boys to live at my place. The first thing they tasted was hot cocoa. It represents their freedom, their first taste of freedom. It is the one thing that calms them when they have their moments.”
Meg wiped her eyes.
“I did not mean to upset you.” Jeffries frowned and scrunched his hat in his hands, “But, I do think it is important that you know.”
“I am glad you told me.” Meg nodded affirmatively. She would make sure those two had a cup of hot cocoa every morning. “Do they still live with you?”
Jeffries chuckled. “No, and yes. Clark and I built them a house behind mine. So we all live on the edge of the dairy,” he sighed. “Thank goodness we found them.” He shook his shoulders, shrugging off the memory. “I was wondering if there was any pie left over? I could use something sweet.”
Meg nodded and walked over to the pantry to pull out a small slice of cherry pie she had been saving for herself. She wrapped it up and handed it to Jeffries, her own problems seeming that much smaller.
/
Jonathan felt like a fool. Why had a he brought flowers? What was he thinking? How many times would he have to suffer humiliation before he learned that love was elusive? Especially when it came to him.
He’d rode up to the dairy kitchen only to notice Meg’s warm brown hair flying in the wind as she took cover in the outhouse. It was obvious she was avoiding him. He wished he could stop being attracted to women who found him so unappealing. He left the flowers with Mrs. Castle and hurried to his next appointment. If he were smart, he would stay away from Meg, which was what he had successfully done the past week or so. But for the last few nights, he’d dreamt about her, and her golden eyes, about her tender smile, about the way she had felt beneath his touch.
“Please Lord, in your mercy, let me not think of Meg,” he groaned.
As if in reply a breeze washed through his hair, carrying with it the scent of fresh bread and hot butter.