Promise Me Tomorrow

  “What do we say to Cook and Mrs. Whitley, Quintin?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” they chorused, and with that, stocking feet and all, Rusty and Quintin made their way from the kitchen. They passed Chase on the way but didn’t stop to chat. Rusty didn’t know if he would be joining them for lunch or not. He sported the same odd expression that he had that morning, but since Rusty had already checked with him, she felt no need to ask again if all was in order. Beyond that, she was hungry, and for the moment she put everything else aside.

  16

  After Quintin was bathed, pajamaed, read to, kissed, hugged, and tucked in for the night, Rusty herself fell into bed. Not brushing her hair or even washing her face, the redhead couldn’t believe how tired she was. Why this had been more exhausting than a day at the orphanage she didn’t know, but her whole body felt like it could melt into the mattress. If only her mind had been as tired … Without warning her brain was off and running with events of the day, and it wasn’t long before her body was tensing along with it.

  Right after lunch they had visited the stable. Rusty had wondered if Mr. McCandles ever took his son riding. The horror in the child’s face as they approached the stable, let alone when he saw the horses, gave her the answer. She was not to be put off. They had gone in and had a wonderful time. However, that was not the worst part of the afternoon. The worst had occurred at the lunch table.

  Unlike the morning, Chase did not have a newspaper in his hand and could attend to the conversation. He and Rusty had talked some, but when she realized that Quintin had not said a word, she asked him to tell his father what they had done that day. The change in him was frightening.

  As if he were a little windup toy, Quintin began to recite their activities from the morning. There was no excitement and no warmth in his voice. He had even risen to stand next to his chair, as though doing a recitation in school. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Mr. McCandles had looked as if everything was in order. He clearly expected that very behavior and thanked Quintin quite formally when he was finished. Rusty had felt sick. She had already eaten most of her food, but the rest was left untouched.

  She had thought about the incident the rest of the day. It had been a relief to eat a quiet dinner with Quintin and then spend the rest of the evening bathing him and reading to him in his room. She wasn’t angry at Mr. McCandles, but neither did she know what to say to him. It was as if he didn’t know any better. Was that possible? Rusty couldn’t fathom it but had to admit that at 19 she hadn’t seen everything. She suddenly noticed that her back was starting to ache and realized she’d been lying like a board: flat on her back and just as stiff. She rolled to her side, curled around the extra pillow on her bed, and prayed.

  Rather than thank You for a wonderful day with Quintin, I lie here and complain and fret. He’s not growing up the way I did, Lord, or even the way the children are at Fountain Creek, but You’re still in control. Quintin is well-fed and cared for, and if You want more for him then You will provide it. Rusty started to ask God to bring a new wife into Mr. McCandles’ life but stopped. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask for that …

  I’m just tired, Lord, and acting silly. Help me to remember that You’re sovereign and that You love us all so much, more than we can understand. Thank You for the wonderful time I’ve had here at Briarly and the extraordinary care from the staff. And thank You heavenly Father, that I’ll be in Boulder tomorrow night. Amen.

  With that, Rusty determined to go to sleep. She lay still until her body relaxed once again, and somewhere between wondering what she would wear home on the train in the morning and whether she would have a chance to tell Quintin goodbye, she fell asleep.

  Rusty ate a large breakfast and even read some of the newspaper. She was up earlier than everyone but Mrs. Whitley and Cook, so they served her and even handed her Mr. McCandles’ newspaper. She was on her third cup of coffee when Chase entered the room.

  “Well, now, you must be eager to be off,” he teased her.

  “No,” she smiled at him. “But I was asleep by 8:30 last night, and I don’t need that many hours. Here’s your paper.” She began to fold and hand it to him.

  “You keep it. I’ll read it on the train.”

  “All right. Thank you.”

  Chase watched as she opened it back up to a specific place and continued to read. Seeing her do this, he knew for the first time that this is what Mrs. Harding and Quintin saw him do every morning. It was rather startling to realize how selfish he usually was. Not that he thought Rusty selfish, but his own actions in the same light were not pleasant to him.

  Having finished the article she started, Rusty was just folding the paper away when Quintin entered the room, a trim, gray-haired lady behind him.

  “Quintin!” Rusty turned away from the table with a smile, arms wide open. The little boy came into them. “Good morning,” she whispered close to his face. “Did you sleep well?”

  He nodded, more than content to lie in her arms and look up at her. If Rusty had glanced up at the right time, she would have seen surprise on Mrs. Harding’s face, but it wasn’t long before the look of surprise turned to one of pleasure. Although not a warm person, she cared deeply for Quintin and had wanted nothing but good care and happiness for him in the hours she’d been absent yesterday. Remembering that she had not been introduced to this guest at Briarly, Mrs. Harding nevertheless slipped into a chair and sat quietly, somehow certain she would not offend.

  “Did you eat?” Quintin asked.

  “Yes, and it was very good. Try the ham. It’s wonderful.”

  “I always eat bacon.”

  “Can you get both?” she asked and crossed her eyes, making him laugh.

  He slipped from her grasp and went to the sideboard. Chase had been waiting to catch her attention and now made the introduction between Rusty and Quintin’s nanny.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Harding.”

  “As it is you, Miss Taggart. Thank you so much for seeing to Quintin yesterday. You were pleased with his behavior?”

  “Absolutely. We had a wonderful time.”

  “He’s done nothing but talk about you since he woke up.”

  Rusty turned to smile at Quintin, but he was still serving himself.

  “Do you need some help, Quintin?” Mrs. Harding asked, and Quintin turned to say yes.

  She rose to serve him and then took her own place at the table. It was just as Quintin had said: She sat across from him. Quintin was at his father’s left hand, and Mrs. Harding was on the right. This morning Rusty was at the other end of the table, opposite her host. Rusty suddenly felt stifled. She didn’t understand how anyone could follow the same routine every day. She knew that at times she was too impulsive, but then again, things were new and fresh to her because she did not let routine dictate her actions. She stopped and confessed her attitude.

  I have no right to criticize anyone, Lord. I don’t know who I think I am. I have no place here. You would think I was a queen the way I see myself. Help me to give up my prideful ways, Lord, and love others as You do.

  “We have to leave for the train in about 40 minutes.” Chase’s voice stopped her prayer. “Is that going to work for you?”

  “That’s fine. I’ll just go and put the rest of my things together. It was good to meet you, Mrs. Harding.”

  “Have a good trip home, Miss Taggart.”

  “Thank you. Quintin,” she turned to the little boy, “will you be around in a little while?”

  He naturally turned to his nanny, who said, “I think we can manage to be close at hand.”

  Rusty watched the older woman smile at him. Quintin returned the smile and turned to nod at Rusty. Chase came to his feet when Rusty rose and exited. He had just sat down when Mrs. Harding saw his folded paper and handed it to him. He thanked her but left it lying by his plate. It was amazing how swiftly he could eat when he wasn’t reading. He suddenly foun
d himself finished with breakfast and was on the verge of leaving when he realized he hadn’t shared his plans with Quintin.

  “I’m going to Boulder, Quintin. I’m going to see Miss Taggart home. Did I tell you that?”

  “Miss Taggart did.”

  “Very good. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Since he was already across the table from Quintin, there wasn’t even the customary pat on the shoulder. Chase was almost out the door when he thought to check on Mrs. Harding.

  “I’m doing well.” She was surprised that he had asked but answered calmly enough. “There is little pain today, and Quintin and I will get along fine in your absence.”

  “Good.” Chase thought the word sounded inane, but he was suddenly self-conscious that he’d asked. He nodded and took himself up the stairs to check his own bag, his mind already focusing on the day ahead of him and the business meeting planned for Saturday morning.

  “I don’t want to insult you or make assumptions,” Chase began. He and Rusty were in the carriage on their way to the train station. Rusty turned and looked at him, her eyes bright with curiosity, but he didn’t elaborate.

  “All right,” she said slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Should I pay you for yesterday?”

  “Oh, no,” she said with a laugh. “It was my pleasure, and besides, you already paid for my room in Makepeace.”

  “Is that why you did it?” The thought bothered Chase for some reason.

  “No,” she said again, a smile on her face.

  Chase was relieved but didn’t admit it. He sat back and once again thought of the scene at the front door when Rusty had said goodbye to his son. With most of the staff looking on, she had gone down on her knees in front of him. She made no attempt to whisper, and with everyone listening had said, “I love you, Quintin McCandles.”

  Chase had watched in amazement when Quintin threw his small arms around her neck and told her he loved her too. Something had turned over in his chest at that moment, an emotion he could not define. A few seconds later Rusty had come to her feet, waving at everyone and thanking them one last time. It reminded him a little of his wedding send-off with Carla, as they had left Briarly for their honeymoon trip. Chase shook his head to dispel the image and in the process found Rusty watching him.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice sweet and concerned.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She surprised him by laying a hand on his sleeve. “Mr. McCandles, if you don’t want to leave your home, I really can get to Boulder on my own.”

  “That’s not it, I assure you, Katherine. My mind was on the way Quintin seems to enjoy you.” Which was half true. “You did a wonderful job with him yesterday.”

  “I’m glad you were pleased.” There was so much more she wanted to say, so many things she wanted to ask. She decided on only one.

  “Does Quintin have friends with whom he can play?”

  “No, I don’t believe he does. It’s a shame that Briarly’s closest neighbors are all older, and then there’s Mrs. Harding.”

  She was only going to ask one question, but with an opening like that, it was impossible not to continue.

  “She would rather that Quintin didn’t have many playmates?”

  “Not exactly, but the reason she left her other posting was because the couple was having so many children. She prefers to work with one, two at the most.”

  “She’s been with Quintin a long time?”

  “Since his mother died two months before his second birthday.”

  Rusty fell silent. In some ways she had learned more than she desired to know. Quintin McCandles was a convenience. Mrs. Harding was willing to take care of him because he was just one little boy, and his father saw him only when they happened to be in the same room together.

  That’s not fair, Rusty. You weren’t there long enough to know exactly what goes on. But Rusty was not able to convince herself. While it was true that she hadn’t seen it all, she thought she had witnessed quite a bit. It was a relief to have the train station come into view—anything to take her mind off of having to leave that little boy.

  Boulder

  The train station at home was so familiar for Rusty that she started doing it again: forgetting she had a companion. She was off the train, bag in hand, and headed off the platform when she stopped and turned. Sure enough, Chase was just steps behind her, and his face was split with a huge smile. Rusty shook her head.

  “I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

  “You’re just eager to be home.”

  “And you’re very gracious. Come on, Mr. McCandles. Come and meet my family.”

  Chase fell into step beside her then, surprised at how swiftly she could move. The train ride had come off without delays, and for most of the way they had sat in silence and read. Chase now realized he wanted to know more about his traveling companion.

  “Tell me again how long it’s been since you’ve seen your parents.”

  “Christmas. They came to the orphanage to have Christmas with all of us, but I haven’t been home since last fall.”

  “And this is where you grew up?”

  “Yes. I was born here, and until I began working with Paddy and Sammy, I’d never lived anywhere else.”

  “And your father is with the school system?”

  “Yes. He came to teach when Boulder had only one schoolhouse and needed one teacher. Now we have many schools, and my father is the superintendent over them all. He has a passion for children and their education.”

  That was not hard for Chase to believe. Rusty’s way with children was phenomenal, and he knew she had to have learned it somewhere.

  “We still have several blocks to go. Are you up to it?” Rusty asked him with a teasing glance.

  “I think so, although you do move faster than I thought you possibly could.”

  Rusty laughed. “That comes from chasing 50 children every day.”

  “Something I know you hate.”

  Rusty laughed again but didn’t answer. Just five minutes later Chase saw the school, an older building but well-kept, and beside it was a rambling two-story home. He was certain they were headed straight for it, and he was right.

  They were well on their way to the front door when a male voice said, “Hello, stranger.”

  Rusty turned with a smile. “Hi, Papa.”

  Coming from the direction of the school, Clayton Taggart covered the distance in just a few strides and took his daughter in his arms. Rusty’s own arms went around his neck, and for long moments they just held each other. Again Chase felt an undefined emotion, but not knowing what to do with it, swiftly disregarded the strange feeling.

  “How are you?” he said, holding her at arm’s length.

  “I’m fine. I wasn’t sure I’d ever make it here, but I’m fine.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got sick,” she told him and pulled a face.

  “You do look a little drawn. Is everything else all right—the children were placed, and that all went well?”

  “Yes to everything. I wish you could have seen how happy they were. And this,” Rusty had not forgotten, “is Mr. Chase McCandles. He saw us to Kurth and then took care of me when I became ill. I would have fallen apart without him.”

  “It’s good to meet you, Chase.” Clayton shook his hand. “Thank you for wiring us and seeing to Rusty and the children.”

  “It was my pleasure, but your daughter is too kind. She handled nearly everything.”

  Clayton smiled and put an arm back around Rusty.

  “Come on in. Clare, Les, and Dana all went into town as soon as school was out, but your mother is inside.”

  Rusty took the steps ahead of them, her heart beating with anticipation. Clayton opened the front door and ushered them inside.

  “Is that you, Clayton?” a voice called from beyond the living room.

  “Yes.”

&nbs
p; The three of them stood still, and a moment later Jackie Taggart entered the room.

  “Are you finished at the school?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Jackie cocked her head to the side. Eyes that had been blinded as a teen kept her from seeing her daughter and guest.

  “Clayton Taggart, do you have someone with you?” She knew she was being teased.

  “Hello, Mother,” Rusty said softly, and Jackie’s air left her in a rush.

  “Oh, Rusty,” she cried, hands outstretched. “Oh, Rusty, come to me. Come and let me see you.”

  Rusty hesitated no more. She swiftly crossed the floor and went into her mother’s arms. Jackie’s hands moved over her hair, head, shoulders, and back, “seeing” her daughter as she had always done, but Rusty barely noticed. She was back in her mother’s arms, the sweet smell of her skin and hair rising up to meet her. Right now nothing else in the world mattered.

  17

  “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

  Chase turned to look at his host and found Rusty’s father watching him closely.

  “No, sir, she didn’t.”

  Clayton smiled gently. “Rusty’s mother has been blind since she was 17. It’s all our children have ever known. They think little of it.”

  Chase looked back at the women and said, “How wonderful that she has you and the children.” Chase knew that some blind people were put in special homes or institutions, separated from their families.

  “How wonderful that we have her,” Clayton said softly. Chase glanced at the older man to see that his eyes were intent on his wife and daughter. With Rusty’s being 19 years of age, they’d been married for a long time. Clearly, he was still very much in love with her.

  “Come and meet my wife,” Clayton invited. “Jackie,” he spoke as he led the way, “meet Chase McCandles. He brought Rusty home.”

  Jackie’s hand came out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCandles.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he told her sincerely, seeing in an instant where Rusty gained her beauty.