Chapter 20

"This was left for you." Leon handed Otis a neatly folded letter late in the morning the day after Sadie's departure. "The

same man who took our Sadie back to her family delivered it. I insisted on paying him despite his protest."

"That was good of you," Otis said. He took the letter and immediately recognized the distinct slant of Sadie's penmanship.

"I suppose... I could write her back, then we could pay him again. It would be the generous thing to do."

"Indeed," Leon said. "Go and read your note so I'll have time to find him before he leaves the city."

Otis nodded, excused himself, and went to the music room for privacy.

Dear Mr.Otis Taylor, affectionately and formerly known as Mr.Edward Rochester,

I must thank you again for allowing me a visit to my family. My father is not healing well. He tried to stand and took a fall that has set him back in his recovery. He's weak and discouraged. He is certain something is not set right inside of him, but the doctor has no answers and only insists he lie in bed. I believe in miracles, and we all desperately hope God decides to grant us one.

Being home, no matter the circumstances, has been wonderful. My sisters want to hear every detail of my time in Monti. They

call you my employer or my Mr.Rochester. I told you I would keep your secret about being back in Monticello, but it would

be so much easier for me to talk of Monticello if I could use your name. Nevertheless, I have kept them entertained with stories

of our lessons, and once or twice I have even reenacted one of my many skating falls.

I stayed up late with my sisters. We whispered and even laughed so loudly my mother finally came and told us she'd paddle

all our backsides if we didn't quiet down. Don't you dare tell her, but that sent us into a fit of muffled giggles. For a

few blissful moments it felt like we were children again, free of the heavy worries that come with adulthood.

I'm rambling. I do hope all is well and that you hear news of Elisabeth soon.

I am sorry I'm not there to help you prepare for the masquerade. But I will give you a rule. Rule number six: when you skate,

you must have proper form. Lean forward a bit—it'll help with your balance. Practice on your own now, and when I return, we

will master the skill together.

If you feel so inclined, please pray for my father.

Your teacher,

Sadie West

Give Blue-Wolf a good scratch behind the ears for me. I'm sure he misses his favorite friend.

"His name is Wolf," Otis muttered.

His dog lumbered over. He could be mistaken, but Otis thought he looked sad.

"You miss her," he said as he scratched behind the dog's ears. "Her father's not well... I'm not sure when she'll be back."

He straightened, picked up the letter, and read it again. She needed a miracle. How often had miracle cures been tried on

his scalp? Too many.

Wolf lifted a hind leg and scratched an itch.

"We should do something." He stood. Wolf stood too, his head cocked to the side. Otis had the means to provide a miracle,

or at least hire a very good doctor. Surely the God who worked in mysterious ways could use his family's fortune to help.

After all, he'd come home at this exact moment when Sadie found herself in need. Miracle or not, he could try.

"Leon!" he shouted down the hall. "Come and give me some of that advice you are always offering."

"For once he asks for it." Leon's voice echoed through the walls. As he got closer, Otis could hear him whistling. "What can

this wise old man do for you?"

"Tell me, would it be wrong for me to send a doctor to an injured man? And to cover the bill?"

"Is this a question in earnest or simply one to ponder for philosophical reasons?" Leon adjusted his tie, appearing obtuse.

"Blast it all. You know I'm talking about Sadie's father. The doctor does not know whether he will recover. They can't afford to get another opinion. She needs a miracle... and, well, what I'm saying is that I could pay for the best doctor." Otis folded his arms across his chest. "I could... but not if it will make her obligated to me or resentful."

"I believe, handled carefully, you could find a way to send aid without overstepping."

"How would I do that?"

"Well, you could confess your affections for the girl, and then as a promised man, it would be entirely proper for you to

assist her family."

"That would require the girl to return my affections." Otis scowled. "What other options are there?"

"You could find a way to help them without helping them."

Cryptic words only further unnerved him. Otis moved for the door, wishing he were back at the Crawfords', hidden away from

the rest of the world and its troubles.

"Wait." Leon stopped him. "I wasn't trying to get you irked."

"Tell me what you meant."

"Let's see." He walked across the room. "You could find a way to give them a good harvest, or you could open your factory

and hire her sisters for generous pay."

"They need help now. It can't wait for crops to grow."

"You could offer aid anonymously—"

He snapped his fingers. "That's what I'll do. Telegraph the best doctor from Des Moines. I don't care what it costs, just

get him to come. I know Sadie told you about her father's injuries, so tell the doctor what you know and get him here. Tell

him to be quiet about who sent him and make sure he requests payment from me."

"She might be able to deduce that it was you."

"If she does, then I will tell her that... that... blast, these ludicrous rules. Can't I just tell her I felt concern for her father and that everything in me wanted to help? Why can't I say that? Why can't I tell her I could not save my own father or brother, but I can help hers, and so I have?"

The room, full of long shadows, seemed to change with each word he spoke. Or was it Otis that was changing? Stepping out of

the darkness, this time with his voice and his resolve.

Leon nodded, a proud smile on his face. "There is no reason you should not tell her such things."

"Do it then. Send for the doctor. And don't worry about anonymity. I will write her, and you can send my note with her friend.

Pay him well for his service."

"You do know someday you will have to bring in more money. Philanthropy such as this is not free, and most who get a taste

of putting good into the world can't stop with one deed."

"I will solve that problem later. Let me get through the masquerade, find Elisabeth, and then... I don't know. I'll do

something with my life." Deep in the recesses of his mind, thoughts of staying had begun to creep in. Such thoughts scared

him. The more he wished for it, the more it would hurt when it didn't happen. "For now we will worry about only the most pressing

matters."

"Very well. I'll call the hospital and see if I can figure out who the best doctor is." Leon left with a pleased grin on his

face. Doubt and worry crept into the room in his place, but Otis shrugged it off. There was no time for indecision—only for

action. If Sadie chose to fault him for his gesture, so be it.

. . . Do you recall the promise I made to help your family with their farm in exchange for your help preparing me for the masquerade? In place of my physical labor, I have sent for a well-known doctor. He will come directly to your home and do what he can to help with your father's recovery. If necessary, your father will be taken to a hospital, and all medical bills will be paid. A second opinion may not prove valuable other than to ease everyone's minds that all has been done, but perhaps he'll have knowledge and skills that will help your father make a full recovery and get on his feet again.

Please accept my help. I assure you, there is no ill motive. I simply have the means to assist and wish to aid my favorite

ally.

He thought of wadding up the paper and starting over with a letter that pled for her return, since nothing had felt right

with her gone, but he restrained himself, picturing instead her face whenever she spoke of her family. She was with them,

and that was where she needed to be.

He ended his letter with a short note about Elisabeth, then folded and sealed it, hoping no one misconstrued his good intentions.

***

Sadie sat in the main room of her family's home, rocking near the fireplace, watching the gentle way Nina stroked her daughter's

hair. The little girl rested her head against her mother's chest, her breathing steady, her eyes closed. Peter and Nina had

come over again to be with Sadie and with her injured father. Though flattered and grateful for the presence of friends, she

still sensed an uneasiness from the couple.

Otis's letter, brought by Peter, promised a doctor. His offer had surprised them all, leaving them grateful and uncomfortable with the arrangement, but not so much that they would reject such a gift. Instead, they clung to the belief that his gesture was the miracle they had prayed for so fervently.

The section about her father's health was all she read aloud. To herself she read about Wolf missing her, about staying as

long as she liked, and about his ongoing quest to find his niece.

... We have not had much word about Elisabeth. One source wrote saying they knew of a child living in the country with a

family named Raymond. We are told she arrived as a very small child, not as a baby, and that her history was full of inconsistencies.

The family moved, so they cannot be easily questioned. The source says they believe the child may have been left behind, but

they know nothing further. If the child they wrote of is Elisabeth and she was once again moved a year ago, then it could

be because of Reginald's death and his inability to pay for her care. I believe it's a clue but don't know what to do with

it.

I had hoped Katie's parents in Blackwell would come forward. But perhaps they have washed their hands of the situation. For

some, I suppose that is easier. But I am not like that. I will find her.

The sun moved behind a cloud, and instantly the room grew darker. Sadie shivered, despite the comfortable spring weather.

She frowned, hating that Otis was no closer to finding Elisabeth. If the newspaper brought no real leads, what then?

"She's been waking up early so she can say goodbye to Peter before he begins his deliveries in the morning," Nina said, and

Sadie looked up from her letter. "It's leaving her very tired by the evenings."

"She looks content in your arms." Bessy's features were relaxed and at peace. Her smooth skin and perfectly shaped chin gave her the look of a cherub. Nina pressed a kiss to the girl's forehead. Bessy squirmed and sighed.

"She wouldn't let me hold her like this at all when she first came. I wanted her to so badly, but she was nervous. I don't

know what sort of cruelty she's seen. I wish I could kiss it all away." Bessy's dimpled hand reached up and rested against

Nina's neck. She yawned, and then her eyes opened and met Sadie's.

Sadie stiffened. Bessy's eyes were so blue, so very blue, so perfectly blue, like the eyes of—her heart lurched. They were

Taylor eyes. It couldn't be. It simply couldn't. But those eyes demanded a reckoning. She shook her head, trying to will the

revelation away, but like a ferocious beast, it clawed at her. Panic and disbelief tore through her.

"Are you all right?" Nina asked.

"It's nothing," she managed to whisper. "The letter has me preoccupied." There was truth in that. Otis's words and his plight

had her mind reeling, but her feelings were wound up in so much more. All this time she'd believed they sought a neglected

child, unwanted and abandoned. What if Elisabeth was happy and thriving? What if Peter and Nina's Bessy was also Otis's Elisabeth?

She didn't want to believe it possible.

"Do you fancy him?"

"What?"

"Your employer, do you fancy him?" Nina repeated.

"Oh... that is not what troubles me." She shifted uneasily, but no matter how she sat, she still felt ill.

"If it is his kindness that has you flushed, try to remember that it was generous. And if it helps your father..."

"He is a kind man." Would they think so when he took their daughter? They would hate him. If he took Bessy, they'd be left with empty arms and broken hearts. Where was the kindness in that?

They were alone. Everyone else had gone outside, but Nina hadn't wanted to move with Bessy asleep in her lap, and Sadie had

stayed beside her. Now was the time to face the possibility and kill the very idea of it before it consumed her. She had to

know. "May I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course." Nina nodded but kept her eyes on her child as though she were a finer view than the most colorful sunset.

"Is something troubling you and Peter?"

When Nina looked up there were tears in her eyes. "Everyone is so worried over your father. It's not fair for me to discuss

my own troubles now."

"Nina, does it have to do with Bessy? Please tell me—I have to know."

She buried her head into the little girl's hair and let her lips linger there before rousing the girl fully awake and urging

her to go outside and find her papa. Bessy yawned and, on wobbly legs, left the two women.

"We took Bessy in a year ago. You know that." Nina leaned closer as she spoke, her now-empty hands clasped together. "We were

told she was an orphan."

"I remember. You got her from an orphanage. You did, I know you did." It was impossible to keep the desperation from her voice.

"We hadn't decided how to tell what we knew about her past. We didn't lie... Well, in a way we did. We let everyone believe

she was from the orphanage."

"What really happened?"

"A man Peter had done deliveries for, a Ned Raymond, was going west. Their farm hadn't done well, and there was land out there. His wife used to care for foundlings. They ran a sort of home for... well, for unwanted children, which is why we didn't tell anyone. We didn't want Bessy to think she'd been abandoned. Ned told Peter he was leaving and they'd be sending the last child to the orphanage in Des Moines because her father had just died and her mama was already dead."

The room was spinning. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be.

"Peter said the Raymonds beat the children. They shouldn't have ever taken them in. He saw Bessy and offered to bring her

home and save Ned a trip to the big city. He was afraid Ned wouldn't actually go to the orphanage and that he'd pass her off

to someone else. Someone even worse than Ned." Her voice quivered. "It was all handled quietly, but we had no reason to believe

the story was false. He even wrote us up a paper that looked official, naming us as her parents. There were not many details

about her past, but how could there be with her so small and her family dead?"

"Oh dear," Sadie said, covering her mouth with her hands. "I'm so glad Peter took her in. I hate the thought of what could

have happened to her."

"But now, I think she may have family. Peter saw an inquiry in the paper. It was about a child who would be Bessy's age. The child mentioned was named Elisabeth. It could be a different child—Bessy has always been just Bessy—but it's got me worried." She wiped at her eyes, but the tears were coming freely now. "We should have gone to a judge the moment Peter took her, but we had no money for a lawyer, and we loved her right away. We didn't want to lose her or see her grow up in an orphanage." A sob, low and full of agony like nothing Sadie had ever heard, came from dear, sweet Nina. "I can't bear the thought of how it would hurt her. I promised her I would keep her safe. I looked her in the eyes and I told her she didn't have to be afraid. I told her she belonged. What do I do?"

Sadie went to her, unable to speak. She offered the only support she could—open arms. In this moment mourning with Nina was

all that mattered. Nina shook as she sobbed into Sadie's shoulder.

"Mama." Bessy's voice startled the anguished women.

"I'm here," Nina said, releasing Sadie and holding her arms out for Bessy to run to. Over her child's head, she mouthed, "Don't say anything."

Sadie wiped at her face. "I would never want to hurt her... or you."

Then, quick as she could, she stepped out of the house.