ADDIE FOUGHT TEARS all afternoon. Hearing how her father had searched for her and her mother had done something to the fences she’d put up around her emotions.
“You did a wonderful job on your letters today, Edward,” she told her charge.
His small face brightened. “Can I take Gideon out to play ball as a reward?”
“It’s nearly time for your dinner.”
His face puckered. “I don’t like lessons when I have to stay inside. Gideon has been waiting for me to play all afternoon.”
She glanced at her dog, who stared back at her with hopeful eyes as though he understood. And he probably did. Play was his favorite word. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll go down with you.”
It was a sacrifice, because she wanted nothing more than to shut her door and go through the letters she’d stuffed under the mattress. What might she discover in those pages? The identity of the man who had attacked her? The reason behind the events that had changed her life?
She took Edward’s small hand and led him and Gideon outside. Clouds swirled overhead, and a drop of rain plopped onto her face. “We won’t be able to stay long,” she warned. “It’s going to rain.”
She settled on the wicker chair and watched the boy throw the ball to her dog. Gideon was enjoying it as much as Edward was. The dog wasn’t used to being cramped up in the house. He’d roamed the island at their last station all day, then wandered home at night. The stress of the day had taken its toll, and her eyes drooped. A cacophony of wild barking opened them again, and she leaped from her chair to see Gideon crouched and barking at Edward. The dog lunged forward and grabbed the boy’s arm. Was he attacking the child?
“Gideon!” she shouted, rushing to intervene.
The dog succeeded in tugging Edward to a sitting position. The boy’s staring eyes did not respond to Gideon’s agitation. The child swayed where he sat, then he toppled onto his back. Gideon pranced around the boy.
She knelt beside the boy. “Good boy, Gideon,” she crooned as she checked out the lad. “You saw what was happening to Edward, didn’t you?”
Addie pulled Edward onto her lap and held him. He jerked, and his eyes rolled back in his head. She pulled her handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress, rolled it up, then thrust it between his teeth.
Someone else needed to know about this. “Help! Lieutenant North, someone. Please help!”
At first she thought no one had heard her, then the door opened and a figure stepped onto the porch. She recognized John and waved to attract his attention in case he didn’t see her in the twilight. As he started toward her, the heavens opened up with a gush of rain. She huddled over Edward and tried to protect him from the worst of the water.
John reached them. “An attack of epilepsy?” he shouted over the pounding of the rain hitting the trees.
She nodded. “Is it safe to move him?”
“Yes. Here, let me.” He lifted his son from her lap and rushed with him toward the house.
She splashed through the widening mud puddles. Gideon loped along beside her. When they reached the porch, she snapped her fingers at her dog. Mrs. Eaton would go into vapors if Addie let the muddy dog onto her redwood floors.
“Stay, Gideon,” she said. The dog whimpered but lay down. “I’ll get some rags to dry you and come back,” she promised.
When she stepped inside, she found the household in an uproar. Both grandparents hovered over the unconscious boy. John had laid him on the leather sofa in the smoking room.
Clara wrung her hands. “Oh, why does this happen to our sweet lad?” she moaned. She caught sight of Addie. “What happened, Adeline? Was he upset?”
Addie shook her head. “He had a good day of studies. I gave him permission to toss the ball to Gideon, and he was having a good time.”
“Maybe he got too hot,” Mr. Eaton said.
“I don’t think so,” Addie said. “Gideon was doing the running. I heard the dog bark and saw Edward standing still, just staring. Gideon grabbed his shirtsleeve and pulled him down. A few seconds later he fell back.”
John glanced up from his vigil beside his son. “The dog sensed it before it happened? Just like the day you arrived?”
“I think so. I watched it with my own eyes.”
“Amazing,” Mr. Eaton said. “Edward claimed it was so from the very first.” He fixed his gaze on Addie. “What magic is this, Miss Sullivan?”
“Gideon seems to sense these things,” she admitted. “He has often led me to injured animals or children.”
“Did he lead you to the child in the garment factory?” John asked in a low voice.
She nodded. “He’s a remarkable dog.”
“We must breed him and see if this trait can be duplicated. I did some checking with a neighbor who has a shepherd. She’ll have a female in heat in a few weeks. With her permission, I’d like to see what kind of pups we might get.” Addie’s cheeks went red, and Mr. Eaton stuttered. “Pardon me, Miss Sullivan. I should not be discussing something so indelicate. Have I your permission to, uh, mate Gideon?”
“Please do, sir,” she said. “I’d love to have some little Gideons running around.”
John was thinking more about a little girl with Addie’s magnificent eyes.
Addie leaned against her closed door and let the pent-up air escape from her lungs. Every moment in the handsome lieutenant’s presence left her more infatuated. When should she tell him about her identity? She longed to reveal it to him. As soon as Mr. Driscoll returned, she planned to inform him she couldn’t keep the truth from John. She loved his name. Such a strong, manly sound encompassed by that one-syllable word.
She turned on the gas lamp, closed her curtains, then slipped into her white nightgown. In Gideon’s absence, the room echoed with emptiness. He was so necessary to Edward, but she missed her companion. If the puppies were found to have his innate sense of compassion, Edward could have his own puppy.
They were much alike, she and Gideon. Ever since she could remember, she’d been able to sense another person’s pain. When her father had a headache, Addie knew where to rub. When her mother broke her ankle, Addie’s had throbbed as well. This was the first time in her life that she knew the right thing to do was to gift her dog to the child, but she couldn’t quite summon the will.
Adrenaline still raged through her. The letters under her mattress awaited discovery. Standing by the gaslight, she realized she hadn’t prayed in two days. No wonder her day hadn’t gone well. That was usually her first thought, and the realization it had been her last thought struck her hard. She dropped to her knees by the bed and poured out her distress to the Lord. The agitation faded, and peace warmed her like a blanket.
It would be all too easy in this environment to forget her roots. To lay aside what was truly important. She had to be on her guard.
While she was on her knees, she thrust her hand under the mattress and found the bundle of letters. She rose and carried them to the chair by the lamp. Her hands trembled as she held them under the warm glow of light and tried to decide which letter to read first. Chronologically made the most sense. She sorted them by postmark. Some had the bold slash of a man’s handwriting.
Once they were sorted, she laid the stack on the table and lifted the first one. It was addressed to her mother in a delicate handwriting.
Laura,
You simply must come to tea next week. Wednesday at 2:00 p.m.? Bring Clara if necessary, but come! Mr. Henry Eaton has confessed that he is quite smitten with you. He says Clara knows they are friends only. He asked me to intercede on his behalf.
Most warmly,
Inez
Addie noticed the date. October 19, 1875. The first meeting between her parents. She could imagine how it played out: her father, slimmer and with his hair still dark, bowing over her mother’s hand. Was it love at first sight? And what about Clara? Had she known Henry felt nothing for her but friendship?
She picked up the next letter and saw a man’s bold scrawl. From her father perhaps? She opened it and held it under the light.
My dearest Laura,
I am the happiest man on earth now that you know my feelings. Your face, your form, haunt my dreams. I am a man obsessed. Would you honor me with your presence on a ride along the shore next Saturday? I will be sure to bring a carriage with enough room for Clara if she could be persuaded to act as chaperone.
Your humble servant,
Henry
Addie drew the back of her hand across her damp eyes. The love her father felt was clear. She suspected her mother had the same experience. Reading their exchanges was like reading an Elizabeth Barrett Browning love poem. Totally enthralled with the relationship unfolding in the letters, she picked up the next one.
Laura,
I’m thrilled things are so wonderful between you and Henry. I’d be honored to be your bridesmaid for the wedding in June. I completely understand that your stepmother would insist that Clara be the maid of honor.
Warm regards,
Inez
Addie gave a blissful sigh. John’s face flashed through her mind, but she pushed it away and picked up another envelope. The next five letters were all invitations to different parties and teas. The last was addressed in her mother’s handwriting. It was in an unaddressed envelope with only the name Henry slashed across the front.
My dearest Henry,
I know you do not understand, but I must be gone for a few weeks. I still love you very much, but when I overheard the awful truth, it was more than I could bear. I will be in touch when I’m settled in the hotel. Don’t try to make me come home yet. I need some time.
Laura
Addie folded the letter and put it back in its envelope. “Awful truth,” her mother had said. What would cause a wife who was clearly devoted to her husband to flee with her daughter? Addie needed to talk to Mr. Driscoll. He’d said he would be home tonight. Maybe he was in his room. She snatched up her dressing gown.