Chapter 31
Christmas was anything but quiet with four little boys in the house, but Jemima Chauncy watched her grandchildren with delight. The bright red knit cap on the newborn’s head was a festive addition to the tiny baby’s simple flannel gown. However, the ornery little fellow wasn’t terribly fond of the accessory if his kicking and fussing was any indication.
“Pa! Pa! I tink Santa’s here again,” Caleb shouted, jumping to his feet when he heard the knock on the exterior door.
“Wait here. All of you,” Ben reprimanded, fixing his mother with a stern look before he headed into the office. “That means you too,” he admonished, pointing at Jemima.
“I’s gonna hulp,” Caleb grunted, grabbing the broom before attempting to follow his father.
“Oh no you don’t,” Lottie scolded, snagging the little boy by the back of his new shirt. “Your pa said, ‘stay put.’”
Intractable, Caleb thumped his auntie on the head with the broomstick and broke free. “I’s comin’, Pa,” the little rascal yelled, rushing into the office. Discovering strangers there, Caleb skidded to a halt and put on his best smile. “Hi! I’s Kale-ebb.”
“Young man,” the visitor acknowledged before removing his top hat and making a slight bow.
Intrigued with the action, the little boy mimicked their guest.
“Go back to your Ma,” Ben rasped, shooing the child back the way he came.
Caleb moved two steps and turned around. “They’s wants one a granny’s cookies?”
“I would,” Astrid Colbert Matthews softly said. Lifting her eyes to the Sheriff, she quietly asked, “May I?”
Averting his gaze momentarily, Ben whispered a split-second prayer for guidance. “This way,” he reluctantly allowed before bending to Caleb. “Go tell your Ma we have company.”
The visitors waited for further direction and quietly followed when Ben moved toward the back room.
“My Ma, Jemima Chauncy. And my sisters, Jane and Lottie,” Ben introduced as he entered the living space.
Taking a step back from the table, Roseanna turned to greet their guests. Then she froze before dropping her head.
“You know Roseanna and the boys,” Ben choked out, waving Eugene Colbert and his daughter into the room so he could close the door.
“I recognize Miss Sherman,” Astrid offered. “But I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting Gerald’s sons.”
Agonizing silence filled the room until Robin Tihalt stood and offered the rocking chair where she was sitting. “Please, join us.”
“Your hospitality is appreciated,” Mr. Colbert acknowledged as he moved further into the cramped space. “Come, Astrid. Sit and visit while I speak with the Sheriff.”
Dark eyes taking in the simple surroundings, the wealthy woman moved carefully through the room and took the offered seat. “Papa? The bag,” she reminded as her father turned to go.
“Right! I will fetch it!”
Once the men returned to the office and the door separating the two rooms was closed, Astrid pasted a brave smile on her face. “Might I . . .” she started and stopped. Wringing her hands together, Astrid searched each face before trying again. “I have brought a few things. Might I hand them out?”
Assuming a position of servitude, Roseanna bowed her head, clasped her hands before her, and whispered, “Yes’em, Mrs. Matthews.”
“Please. None of that, Mrs. Chauncy,” Astrid softly pleaded. “Today, we are just two women hoping to make the best of a dreadful situation.”
A trail of liquid grief spilled from Roseanna’s eyes, and she couldn’t bear to look up. “Might I have this last night with them?” she whispered around the lump in her throat.
Handing off her son to Jane Chauncy, Robin moved to her sister’s side. “Ssh, Rosie. That’s not why Mrs. Matthews is here. I promise you.”
“Ma?” Caleb fearfully questioned, rushing to his mother’s side. “Don’t cry. I’s get Pa, ‘kay?”
Astrid stood and approached, “Please. Roseanna. I . . . I only wanted to meet them,” the soft-spoken woman said, her voice laced with compassion.
“Meet them or STEAL them?” the frightened mother yelled.
Blanching, the wounded wife took a step back. “No. Never that,” she whispered. “My father. He is here to put an end to this . . . travesty. I only wish I would have enlisted his help sooner.”
“It’s true,” Robin confirmed. “I . . . well, Astrid and her father provided the money I gave you. They were hoping it would help convince a judge that the boys are well cared for here.”
“They ARE well cared for,” Jemima Chauncy insisted, gaining her feet and standing tall. “We are not wealthy, but we can provide for our own.”
“I do not mean any disrespect to anyone,” Astrid soothed. “My father has done well for himself since he came to America. But he arrived in this country without shoes or parents. He is not a proud man. Nor is he a cruel one.”
“Please, Astrid. Just tell them what you told me,” Robin begged as she hugged her sister closer to her side. “Explain why you came.”
Stepping back to the red satin bag she’d left near the rocking chair, Mrs. Matthews bent and withdrew a brightly wrapped gift. “For Caleb,” she said before handing the toddler the package. “And Arthur,” Astrid announced, withdrawing another. When each person in the room received their present, she took a lacquered wooden box to Roseanna. “Please. Open it.”
“I don’t understand,” Roseanna sniffled as she skimmed the stiff sheets of paper she found inside.
“Papa created his own fortune, so when he married, my mother’s money was put into a trust for me. It is mine, and Gerald has no legal right to it. Nor does he have any significant interest in my father’s bank.
“What you hold there are the papers that will sever Gerald’s connection with my family’s business interests if he tries to bring his illegitimate children back to Philadelphia. And my father’s attorney took the liberty of presenting my husband with a surprise gift this morning.”
“I still don’t understand,” Roseanna repeated.
“The simple explanation is this, Mrs. Chauncy,” Mr. Colbert answered from the doorway. “Gerald Matthews has no further legal claim on your children. And to ensure that his foolhardy actions do not create a hardship for these fine little boys, his stock in my bank has been sold. To me, of course.
“The proceeds have been split equally into trusts established for Caleb, Arthur, Jacob, and Sebastian. And with your husband’s signature on these papers,” he continued, holding aloft several legal filings, “these delightful young lads will assume the use of the Chauncy name.”