Rendezvous: Pleasing Her

Chapter One

A small but brilliant ray of sunlight sliced through the ice-frosted glass pane, and found its way through a chink in the heavy velvet draperies. Eloise awoke with a start. Gracious! she thought. What in the world time must it be? She quickly sat up and everything started to come back to her. Last night, and the terrors and—David. Her David. She stretched luxuriously and smiled. All the pieces were in place. Somehow she had faced down more fears—and pieced together more puzzles—in a few hours the night before than in her whole life altogether.

Eloise had stumbled upon a rough gang of men conspiring to rob the bank, and had been caught at it by those very same men. Her quick wits and storytelling abilities—and most of all her frantic prayers—had gotten her out of it all. She had managed to convince them—she still didn’t believe that she had convinced them—that she wanted to go with them as an adventure. They had believed her! They must have had foolish pride enough to believe anyone would want to join their nasty lives, even an innocent girl. She laughed. Oh my! she prayed. It just had to be You, Lord. She could tell a story well enough, but no one could deceive so many so well without some thoroughly Almighty help.

Then her thoughts turned to her adopted family, how frantic they had been about her safety, and how they’d let her go anyway, when they understood her role in all of it. It was as though Pa Cravits had been silenced by God as he listened to Eloise, to how she would have to go back to keep the tryst she’d made with the robbers’ boss, or the whole plan would fail and the town would be in danger. Pa and David Cravits had had what she wanted, what she so desperately needed: faith enough in God to trust Him with her life. So Eloise had gone off alone, and Pa and David—her David!—had let her go. She had to make the villains believe that no one else knew what was going on, or they would come looking for her, she was supremely convinced of that. She was certain sure that there would have been trouble. So her adopted Pa, Ben Cravits, and her brother, David, had let her go back, trusting in their faith in God alone for her safety. Then they had made the critical arrangements with the sheriff and had gotten her two small charges, Mayor Strawbridge’s children, to safety. Eloise was carried away on the very necessity of all she had to do, simply trusting God blindly and praying her way through. And in the end, God had come through, just as He always did, and the villains were taken, and no one was hurt.

And then! Wonder of wonders, David, with whom she’d had such a problem sorting out her relationship with all these last months had come right out and so much as told her he was sick of all the nonsense and their relationship problems, and that he just had to tell her he was in love with her. Suddenly all those pieces fell into place, and she understood why she could never quite get the hang of how she was supposed to feel about David—why he was a like a brother, but not quite a brother, a friend but so much more. And why his words and deeds, more than anyone else’s, had the power to warm her or harm her far beyond anyone else’s—for she finally understood that she loved David too. Well, of course, she knew she loved him, for he had been family to her after all her family was gone, but she was just so uncertain around him all the time. Now she understood it all. She loved David but was so confused about him, because she wanted David to be family in the most intimate way. And now, wonder of wonders, they were to be married. The whole night, not six hours altogether, had turned her whole life on its head. Well, she thought, my life, if anything, has always been about change.

Now here she was back at the Mayor’s vast mansion and waking late, not sure where her mischievous little charges, Elizabeth and Bartholomew (or Buck as he preferred to be called) were. She supposed she was being given the grace of sleeping in today, for in truth, she was the town’s heroine. Now there was something else to ponder. She supposed she’d have to face some fanfare, for the people would be grateful and the whole town would be like one giant wagging tongue. She grinned at the thought of it. Another true adventure to add to my treasure trove of stories, she thought.

The fire had burnt low and it was getting cool in her room, so she hastened to dress. All of her things from last night were tumbled in a pile in the big rocker. Mama—her adopted mama, David’s mama, and the center of the whole Cravits clan—had given her medicine to take before bed to soothe her. Mama and twelve-year-old Vanessa were gifted herbologists and knew what could calm, heal, and cleanse, and the medicine had definitely worked. Eloise could hardly remember putting on her nightdress and climbing between her featherbed and down quilt. Why, she thought, I don’t even know what time I came home. She heard the clock in the hall chime nine then, and hurried about dressing. What she did remember was David’s warm embrace and the gentle kiss he left on her cheek. She sighed deeply again. Her David. She shook herself. She wouldn’t become a lovesick goose!

Eloise went down the long, wide hall to the back staircase, the one the household servants used. It took her down through the pantry and right into the kitchen. The children were sitting at the big kitchen table and scratching at the slates that they had just bought the day before. It seemed a lifetime ago. When they saw their governess coming down, they scrambled to their feet and almost upset her by their hugs.

Miss Ellie! they cried in unison. You’re okay!

Eloise laughed at the pair. Of course I’m okay, she said. She noted that they had picked up the nickname Ellie from her family. Why they didn’t even harm a hair on my head . . .

Buck looked up at her with his wide brown eyes. "Yer so brave! Why, I guess yer the bravest person I ever knowed!"

Elizabeth was tugging at her sleeve. "Tell us everything!" she demanded.

Now, just you hesh, you two, said Mrs. Watson, the mayor’s housekeeper and cook. Mrs. Watson was The One. She saw to everything in the vast household: the accounts, the menus and shopping, the scheduling for the Mayor’s visitors— whatever involved the house. She even saw to the children in the absence of their governess, and in between governesses, which had been often in their young lives. Now she had plans for Miss Eloise. Miss Eloise needs some peace today. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and you know what that means.

The children groaned, for they did know. They would be set to work at all sorts of little tasks and errands, and then they’d have to bathe that night and go to bed early. The next day they’d have to be, well, good.

Today, announced Mrs. Watson, you will be helping Ling and Katie with all the things for company. And Miss Eloise will have something good to eat, and then I plan to let her have a long soak in the tub.

Buck looked at the woman in horror. "Why does she gotta do that?" he demanded.

Eloise laughed. Mrs. Watson said, Ladies love a nice soak, Bartholomew.

My auntie sent me some bubbles once, said Elizabeth. If’n I still had ’em you could use ’em, she said kindly.

That’s very nice of you, Elizabeth, Eloise said. And it was, for Elizabeth was a very spoiled and selfish child. Another step in the right direction, and they were not even through a fortnight together. To Mrs. Watson she said, A bath does sound lovely, but I’m so merry today I won’t be able to sit long enough to soak.

She bent over close to the children and put her hands on her knees, face close to theirs. Something very lovely has happened to me, Eloise confided. You’ll never guess what!

"What? What?" squealed the children.

I’m going to be married!

Mrs. Watson was reserved, but congratulated her. The children’s faces fell. Aw, said Buck, whatta ya gotta do that for? Yer spoilin’ everything.

Elizabeth’s soft brown eyes filled with tears. She turned away.

No! said Eloise. Don’t be sad, but be happy for me, for it’s David, and you know how jolly and fun he is!

But you’ll go away! cried Elizabeth.

Oh, no, no, Eloise hastened to assure them. I’m only barely a lady. I’m not going to be married right now. I’ll be here.

Buck and Elizabeth smiled again. Ya mean it? Buck asked, flashing his gap-toothed smile. Really?

"You will?" asked Elizabeth. Promise?

Eloise put her hand over her heart. I promise. We won’t get married for quite some time. Why, I’m still young. We’ll have lots of time together. You’ll see. Then she had a thought. What would David say? What did he expect? He had not even wanted her to come here in the first place, and that was before he had declared his love.

Come sit, Miss, said Mrs. Watson. I’ve set the water going for your bath and here’s your breakfast. She set a cup of stout coffee on the table, with the cream pitcher next to it. The cream was cold from sitting in the icebox. The coffee was drinkable right away when the cold cream was stirred in, and Eloise drank gratefully. She was still a little groggy. She wondered if it was the aftereffects of Mama’s medicine, or her terrifying exploits the night before. Undoubtedly both.

Here’s biscuits and gravy, and I’ve saved you a bit of grits. Would you like an egg?

Please, Ma’am, if it’s not too much trouble, said Eloise. I see you’re already up to your shoulders in cooking for tomorrow. How many people are to come?

Last count eight, but I never trust the mayor. He collects stray people the way Katie collects kittens, Mrs. Watson said. Speaking of Katie, Elizabeth, would you run upstairs and ask her if she’s found all those linens? She addressed herself to Eloise again. We have a businessman and his wife in town who got stuck here because the stage couldn’t come through the snow from up north ‘ways, so the mayor is having them overnight. They were at the inn and he’s gone himself with Albert to bring them already. They have some business, then they’ll be here this afternoon. Albert was to everything outside what Mrs. Watson was to the house.

Mrs. Watson brought Eloise a poached egg in a little white dish and set it before her, along with a little spoon. Eloise plopped the egg atop her grits and mixed it all together. She added a liberal amount of butter, then some salt. She was surely hungry. She remembered she’d never had supper the night before—other than the bits David had brought her, and the coffee Pa had brought her. Oh, and some of David’s chocolate birthday cake, for it was David’s twentieth birthday that had taken her to town in the first place.

I can’t imagine all the ruckus in town after last night, said Mrs. Watson. I can’t wait to hear the whole story, but the mayor is going to ask you to tell it all firsthand to the company. I guess you’re to be the entertainment, said the housekeeper with a wry grin.

My land! said Eloise. "Am I that famous?"

Well, I should say so! Little scrap like you and all those big ruffians!

I was really only going by instinct, you know. All I could think about were the children and the family, and the people of the whole town, and what might happen if we couldn’t get those ruffians locked up properly.

And I guess your storytelling came in handy, chuckled Mrs. Watson. "I hear you’re getting quite famous for that too."

Well, I guess I am now anyway, laughed Eloise.

Do I hafta wait all the way till tomorrow? wailed Buck.

"Well, of course not, said Eloise, ruffling his mop of curls. You’re my very own boy. You don’t have to wait for stories. That’s part of why I’m here—to tell you stories. So you just tend to your chores today, and when we’re all finished with what we have to do and go up to bed early, we’ll have it all said."

Buck grinned and whooped. His face flushed and he looked as though he had been given the present he’d been waiting for his whole life—and in a way he had. Someone special had told him he belonged, that he was special, that he was her own.

Yippee! Elizabeth was coming back down the stairs. ’Lizbeth, he said brightly, Miss Ellie says we get to hear the whole story tonight!

Elizabeth was all smiles. Goodie! I’m bein’ good, ain’t I, Mrs. Watson? She’s remembering what I’ve taught her about good things for good girls, Eloise thought. She and Elizabeth had butted heads before.

Then the child said, Katie says there ain’t no linens where you said.

Go tell her to get the stool and look on the top shelf. They’re in that cupboard up there somewhere. I put them there myself. And Bartholomew, you get your things on and go out and help Ling get the Christmas stuff out of the storehouse.

Elizabeth, without a word, turned and ran back up the stairs. Buck scrambled up from the table and hurried to get his outdoor clothing.

Well, thought Eloise, these are much-improved children. She wondered if it was because they were responding from respect toward a heroine, and whether it was temporary. Never trust a prankster, she reminded herself. Never let your guard down. Yet for all that, she was glad to be with the children, and glad to have a day to work with them in peace, and get to know their better sides.

Chapter Two

Eloise, full of breakfast and good coffee, had a nice hot bath and finally felt as though the stench of the evil ruffians was off her from the night before. Bank robbers in little Westhaven! Why she doubted anyone in Westhaven but the highest officials even knew there was anything worthy of being stolen in their modest bank. Who would know there was a railroad payroll in there? Why no one, of course, other than those who put it there and the men who were following it down the line. And how in the world did she come to be in such a place as Westhaven’s shabby, seedy little inn at such an unlikely time—even after Pa had said it was unfit for a lady? She had gone to find Katie, Mrs. Watson’s daughter who had gone to town with her. Getting to know Katie a little had made Eloise feel that Katie had seldom had much fun, and she wanted to fetch Katie for David’s birthday supper, a bit of a celebration in a week filled with work. That was how she had accidentally overheard those men talking by the inn. Eloise had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and got caught. Or, she thought, was it the right place at the right time? Was it that God could trust her with an important role to play out the scenario? Was it her special storytelling, her special ability to survive that led Him to trust this to her? Eloise shook her head. She dressed in a serviceable dress and hurried to get out to the kitchen, to see what she could do to help. Mrs. Watson did her best to discourage her.

You had a long night last night, Miss, she said firmly, and it’s not your job.

Please, Ma’am, returned Eloise, just as firmly, I couldn’t lay about today for anything in the world. I’m so full of thinking of David and all that went on, I’m just all nerves. You can use an extra pair of hands, and I need to work out my energy. I can take on some tasks and direct the children—they need to learn to take on some responsibility. And then Katie can work with you. We’ll get done faster and you won’t have the little ones underfoot.

Since Mrs. Watson couldn’t find anything to argue with in this, she finally conceded. Well, it don’t feel right. You’re the governess, not a maid.

And you’re the head of the household, not a maid, said Eloise. Mrs. Watson gave her such a look, that Eloise felt she surely must have gone up in the woman’s estimation. She had a feeling no one gave her much respect, or actually understood the amount of work that fell on her heavy, rounded shoulders.

Well, I would say it don’t feel right, but frankly, I always arrive at the end of all the holiday work feeling like I’m more tired than I could ever be, so I thank ye.

Eloise got a clean apron and presented herself. Whatever you say, Ma’am—just tell me what to do. I’m a good hand at most anything, except fancy cooking like yours. I’ve never tasted nor seen the likes of some of the things you make!

Now Mrs. Watson was proud of her cooking, and rarely had anyone say anything to her. She got her satisfaction from the little oo’s and aah’s she heard through the swinging kitchen doors that led into the formal dining room. Once in a while she’d hear an appreciative, This is heavenly, or "I’ve never tasted anything quite like it—what is that flavor?" But rarely did anyone ever come out and say clearly that she was a fine hand at what she did. She knew she was, but she wanted someone else to say so. Mrs. Watson, humble woman that she was, was like everyone else. She wanted to hear that she was appreciated.

Well, to tell you the truth, Miss . . . , said Mrs. Watson.

Eloise held up her hand. Please do call me Eloise, or Ellie as my close friends and family do.

Mrs. Watson smiled. "Well, Ellie¸ then you call me Deborah. I haven’t heard my plain name spoke in years. But since you offer help, there is this trifling little thing that I thought up that I’d like to make—it would be such a delight . . . . But I couldn’t think how I would get the time to experiment and see if I could make it, without staying up all hours, and I do get so tired these days."

Eloise held up her hand. Well, now, Deborah, perhaps you’ll have the time. Don’t try to explain it to me, for I’d be purely without a clue. It would be like my own Pa trying to talk higher mathematics with me. Not a clue. She shook her head and laughed. Give me something I can do easily, like making up beds, or ironing some tablecloths.

Mrs. Watson grinned. I’ll have to teach you some tasty things for that new husband of yours. But putting up some decorations would be wonderful. We put up some pine boughs and ribbons and bows, the Christmas tree and such nonsense—all them Christmas things—at Thanksgiving. Ling comes in and Katie and the children help. Now if I can have Katie . . .

Say no more, said Eloise. I’m a good hand at arranging things like that. I like it. I dressed up the store some, and enjoyed doing it.

Little Buck had bundled up and gone out and Elizabeth had come back down. Katie says I’m to shake out the pillas but we cain’t get the winders open, she reported.

Eloise cringed at the child’s language. The eight-year-old needed so much schooling before she could start school next spring. The town had had one attempted failure at a school; Miss Betsy Johnson, the teacher, just didn’t work out. A new teacher had recently come, who would open the school again after New Year’s. But Elizabeth and Buck were to stay home and learn for a while, for the girl and her six-year-old brother were little more than illiterate.

Elizabeth, would you please go up and collect all the pillows and bring them to one bedroom, and have Katie come down? asked Eloise. She wanted to model polite behavior with the children, instead of telling them what to do. We are going to work together today, and Katie will work with her mama.

Elizabeth regarded her, puzzled. Why, ain’t no governess worked with us afore.

Eloise smiled. Isn’t Mrs. Watson part of the family, Elizabeth?

"Well, of course she is!"

Am I?

Elizabeth looked at her thoughtfully. Are you? she asked.

Well, what do you think? asked Eloise. I eat here, I sleep here, I’m here most my life, I do everything with you—isn’t that like everyone else?

Well, that ain’t like a governess is s’pposta be, said Elizabeth.

But suppose there are different kinds of governesses?

Elizabeth cocked her head. "You are different," she conceded.

So then . . . , prompted Eloise.

So I guess yer family! she smiled. So then I guess yer gonna help too?

I am, said Eloise, holding out her hand, taking advantage of the moment. Come. We’ll go up together. Then Katie can help Mrs. Watson, and Mrs. Watson won’t get so tired.

Elizabeth took Eloise’s hand and skipped along beside her amiably, and they went along up the back staircase. They found Katie smartly snapping crisp sheets across a big bed in one of the six upstairs bedrooms. The mayor’s bedroom was downstairs off another room that the mayor used to conduct the business of running Westhaven. Deborah and Katie slept off a room downstairs called a butler’s pantry. At one time they had slept upstairs but the mayor’s constant habit of bringing company to stay had grown with the growing town, and an addition had been added a few years back that included a room just for bathing and extra pantry space, along with a bedroom and sitting quarters for Deborah and Katie.

They usta sleep upstairs, said Elizabeth, but Papa’s always getting’ more company, and Mrs. Watson likes being downstairs better anyways. And Katie don’t mind. Mrs. Watson says she’s too lazy to walk up the stairs.

Hush, Elizabeth, admonished Eloise. We mustn’t say things about others.

Well, her own mama says it, said the child a little defensively.

It would hurt my feelings if someone said something like that about me, said Eloise, trying to teach and yet not scold. They entered the room and Katie turned to them.

I don’t know how on earth the mayor aims to get all this company in, she grumbled. He does this every year! It’s like he don’t know how to count. Eight! My land! I need to bed three ladies in one room, probably in one bed. Then there’s that gentleman—Mr. Masters—and his family, him and his wife and a boy . . . she was plainly thinking. They’ve come a lot, but this is the first time they’ve brought the boy—’Lizbeth’s age I think.

Don’t you have this written down? asked Eloise.

I wrote it on a bit of paper, she started checking her pockets. Oh, here ’tis. Eight are stayin’ over.

The boy could sleep with Buck, said Eloise helpfully. That would give him a friend in all this grown-up company.

Oh, that’s good, said the girl nodding. Eloise had as yet to figure out Katie’s age. Sometimes she seemed so girlish, and little older than her adopted sister Vanessa’s age of twelve (though Nessa had the mind of a grown woman); yet sometimes she looked so weary she looked as old as her own mama.

She began to read from her list. "I have two gentlemen from Wichita who are coming on business, and the mayor particularly wants them to be here to talk to this businessman that just got stuck. Mayor says that was a bit of good fortune for our town. And Mr. Jonathon Peters. He gets the best room down the middle of the hall. He comes every year for Thanksgiving or Christmas—or both. I cain’t remember him not coming." Katie bit her lip in concentration.

Suppose you put someone in my room and I sleep with Elizabeth? suggested Eloise.

Katie looked at her amazed. Oh, you wouldn’t want to do that! She kicks like an old mule! I’ve had to sleep with her a few times when she was sick.

No, said Eloise, I’m sure I’ll be fine. If nothing else, we can move my little settee into the children’s room and Elizabeth can sleep on that, and I can sleep in her bed.

Yer just plumb good to do such a thing, said Katie, because then I think I can make this work. If I can put the three ladies in your room then it’ll all come out right!

"It’s ’cuz she’s family, said Elizabeth. That’s why she helps like everyone else. She’s a different kind of governess than them others." She smiled up at Eloise, and Eloise dared to feel a little bit of hope that the children might be won over soon. Just don’t let your guard down, she warned herself. Mischief doesn’t go away overnight. She’d already been treated to some of these children’s tricks.

If you’ve sorted everything out about arrangements, then I think Elizabeth and I can go ahead and take care of the bedrooms, said Eloise.

"Yer goin’ ta make beds?" asked Katie incredulously.

Yes, honey, said Eloise kindly. "That’s the family part. We all work together, and when I say work, I mean work—whatever needs to get done. I know you need another pair of hands, and Elizabeth can be my partner and you can help your mama." She shooed Katie off and set to work.

Katie, apparently not quite satisfied that the arrangements would work out, wandered from the room, calculating under her voice. If’n I put them two cousins together . . . Eloise could hear her voice trailing off as she wandered down the hall, still figuring.

We can’t get the winder open, Elizabeth reminded Eloise after Katie wandered off.

It’s the ice, Eloise told her. You don’t mind if I call you ‘honey’ do you? Because that’s what I call Jenna. I know you told me not to . . .

No, said Elizabeth quickly. That was when I was mad at you and I didn’t know you. I kind of like it. Mrs. Watson calls me that when she’s soothin’ me. I might tell you my other name sometime too.

Eloise was surprised by that, and hoped for the day. Okay, I have an idea for opening the window. I think it might work. It can’t be too frozen, for we haven’t had that many cold days yet. Why, I opened mine the other day when I threw Buck’s hatchet out.

Elizabeth giggled. "Boy, did that make him mad. I seen him mad a lot of times, but this was different, because he couldn’t do anythin’ about it!"

Eloise went to the fireplace and got few of the pieces of firewood from those stacked on the hearth. I think if we just move these closer to the fire, they’ll warm up, then we can put them ’round the window and they’ll melt the ice. Then we should be able to open it. Until then, we can plump up the rest of the featherbeds and put on the sheets, shake out the quilts, and get the other things ready.

We gotta bring down all the pitchers and basins, said Elizabeth. And we gotta make sure every bedroom has its slops, she said, referring to the chamber pots every room needed for the guests to relieve themselves in. They couldn’t very well be expected to find their way to the outhouse in the dark, in the cold in a strange place. Such a huge amount of work for Katie, and such a lot of helping for such a little girl! But, Eloise reminded herself, everyone worked hard at the store, and I always worked hard at home as a child. Hard work didn’t hurt anyone, and she appreciated the fact that this girl was not as helpless as she had seemed at first. They worked almost as hard at the mansion around the holidays as Eloise had done on the farm as a child, or in the store her adopted family ran in town. She wondered if the gracious, benevolent, and generous mayor had any idea how much work went on to get his parties and festivities ready. She would have a word with him as soon as she saw him next. This was too much!

I just hope Papa don’t bring nobody else we didn’t plan on, said Elizabeth plaintively. We got everyone figured out, and if he brings anyone new, us children’ll be sleepin’ on the parlor floor with Mrs. Watson and Katie agin. She sighed. Apparently that had happened more than once. Eloise was glad of her rapport with the mayor. He allowed her to speak freely, and always knew when she had something on her mind.

So the little helper and Eloise turned and flapped the featherbeds until the feathers flew, gathered quilts and blankets and shook them out, fed the fires to keep them up, and kept watch over their warming sticks of firewood. When the feathers settled from all the shaking, they swept up the floors and dusted everything in the seldom-used rooms. As they worked, Eloise talked to the little girl constantly, telling stories of her girlhood, asking her questions of her life and the many governesses who had come and gone. The work went quickly and relationship grew.

When Eloise thought the sticks were warm enough, she put them around the window frame. It was just an idea, but it was worth a try. She laid one across the sill, and stood one upright against each side, then set one on top of the upright pieces. They stood up and didn’t fall, just as she had hoped. Eloise checked them after a few minutes, and then turned them so the sides, cold from the window, faced in, and the warm sides now leaned against the frame. As she worked, she had the opportunity to tell Elizabeth how her family had never had windows that opened and closed, let alone windows with glass to keep out the cold. They had windows covered with oiled paper, which let the light in, and shutters to close when needed to keep the weather out. When it was particularly cold, they hung quilts over the only two windows they had. Such information was good for the little girl; she could learn what it meant to be without the things that Elizabeth had grown up with, and had never thought about as anything but ordinary.

When the sticks were fully cool, Eloise tried the window. Unfortunately, it didn’t budge. Elizabeth was disappointed.

Well, said Eloise philosophically, at least we tried. What do you think? Should we try again?

My Papa hits the winders when they don’t open, Elizabeth said. I’ll show you. Elizabeth thumped the sides of the window with the heels of her hands, moving up the sides as high as she could reach. Eloise took over.

OK, I’ll try now, she said. So working the heels of her hands around the frame, she pounded firmly at the frame. She tried again, and this time the window moved—just a little—but it moved.

More sticks! declared Elizabeth, running to the hearth and lining up more firewood close to the fire, as they had done with the last batch.

They set to their work again, then returned the warm sticks to the window. Eventually they succeeded and the triumph, though heartily tiring, was sweet.

Phew! laughed Eloise when the window finally slid up. I’m so tuckered out now that I can’t shake those pillows out to save my life! They flopped down on the floor next to the big bedstead.

Well, we can’t just leave the winder open, said Elizabeth.

We’ll put pillows in the opening! said Eloise.

Yeah! said Elizabeth. Then the pillas’ll air out and we can rest!

Eloise laughed. "Aren’t we the smart ones! Did you ever hear the saying, ‘two heads are better than one’?"

No, said Elizabeth, "but I think I know what it means—that when you had an idea, I could think about it some more, and when I had a idea, you could think about my idea some more!"

That’s it! Very good! Then Eloise dared to take a step further with her little charge. You know Elizabeth, I want to tell you something really important, because I want to be very special friends with you. Then she waited.

Elizabeth eyed her carefully, then said quietly, Okay. Then she waited.

The real reason I wanted you to stay home from school now is because of how smart you are. I was afraid of what the other children might say to you because you’re so grown and no one has taken the time to teach you how to read and write . . . .

Elizabeth’s face began to redden. Eloise hastened on. "It’s not your fault, and I’m not saying you’re to blame. She sat down and pulled the girl to her lap. I wanted to protect you from mean kids. I think I can teach you ever so much in just a short time, just because you’re so smart. I think we can have fun doing it too. I asked your Papa special permission to keep you home, because I didn’t want anyone to hurt your feelings."

Elizabeth hung her head. Eloise captured her chin and made her look up. Sure enough, there were tears, for there was a sensitive little girl under that tough exterior. Eloise wiped the tears with her apron. Please don’t be hurt, honey—please let me go one calling you ‘honey’—for I only want the very best for you. That’s why I came, because I wanted to help you and Buck. Now you see, it would be okay for Buck to go to school, because he’s little and it’s okay if he can’t read, for none of the little ones can. And what does he care about what anyone says anyway? Eloise was quiet for a moment.

Why, said Eloise, see how smart you are to help me figure out the window, and how good we work together? Do you think I was right about school? Your papa does, and he loves you more than anyone in the world.

Still Elizabeth was silent, and her tears flowed faster. Elizabeth, please tell me I haven’t hurt your feelings, for I never in the world would want to do that. I told you now, when all was quiet and no one else would know. I told you so you wouldn’t find out some other way, and so there would be pure truth between us. Please tell me you won’t hate me again because of this. Eloise knew intimately how deeply things could hurt the heart, especially in one who had lost loved ones, in one who was uncertain about relationships.

Suddenly Elizabeth threw her arms around Eloise’s neck and wept. All her childhood hurts, all the little things in her tender heart, all the times she had to be tough—were all being washed away. A new Elizabeth was emerging. Eloise let her cry, just held her as they sat in a heap on the floor where they had landed.

Oh, Miss Ellie, please don’t go away, she finally said when she could talk. I wanna be c’rect. I wanna speak like a lady, an’ read all the pretty books in Papa’s liberry. No one wants me ’cuz I’m a bother, ’cuz I’m so bad an’ willful.

"But I want you, Elizabeth, said Eloise. See? I want to protect you and stay with you, and help you especially. Like this morning when you were up here and Buck asked if he had to wait all the way until tomorrow for the story of last night. I told him, ‘Of course not, because you’re my very own boy.’ Well, just like that, you’re my very own girl."

But we had a governess once who promised to stay, an’ she only stayed a month.

But what did you do?

Elizabeth didn’t answer.

Okay, you don’t have to answer. I understand. I come from a family that plays pranks and tricks. They’re games. We just don’t hurt anybody. That’s bad. If you play pranks on each other, that’s okay, but it’s not okay to hurt anyone.

But I already hurt your feet . . . Elizabeth and Buck had played a nasty little prank on Eloise when she had first come that had resulted in a mess and injured feet for Eloise.

That’s all gone. That’s past. Remember? said Eloise. When I say a thing is past, it’s past.

But yer gonna get married an’ go away.

Don’t worry about things that are a long ways off, said Eloise. The Bible says, ‘Don’t worry about tomorrow for today has enough worries of its own.’ So, are we okay?

Elizabeth looked at her hesitantly.

Are you still my ‘honey’? asked Eloise. She knew Elizabeth still had something on her mind. The child pulled her head back suddenly and put her lips against Eloise’s ear.

My papa told me my mama called me Belle when I was a little ’un, she whispered. Then she got up and ran out and down the hall.

Eloise sat still and heaved a deep sigh. Oh, Lord, she prayed, how wonderful are Your ways! To think that a few simple chores could change circumstances so quickly—could build relationship. She stood up and arched her aching back and went to get the pillows from the window, laughing when she found that the pillows were welded into the window frame by the ice that had stuck the window shut. But, with a little tugging, the pillows finally came out. She didn’t get them fluffed just yet for they were stiff with condensation, but they were certainly aired. She tossed them on the chest at the end of the bed to warm and dry. Then she heard the call for lunch—already!—and went downstairs. There was Buck struggling out of his heavy outdoor clothes and Elizabeth, with face apparently bathed, sitting at the table, composed.

Suddenly there was a mighty stomping on the back porch and a rapping at the door. The door was flung inwards and everyone looked toward it, for it wouldn’t be Ling—Ling had never made a commotion like that in his entire life. In came a big man, pulling a cap off his dark curling hair, green eyes sparkling, and cheeks red with the cold.

I’ve run away! declared David Cravits. Eloise was across the room, arms around his middle before anyone else could react.

David! she laughed. My land! What blew you in?

Playing hooky to see my girl, he