Chapter 13 #2
She let out a long sigh and took a bite of toast. She was more than drawn to Trent.
She trusted him, and that’s what scared her.
She’d already proven she wasn’t capable of knowing if someone was actually good for her or not.
And then there was the fact that she was beyond sullied.
Not to mention, her inability to bear children. He deserved better than her.
She needed to walk. Moving her body always made it easier to sort through her thoughts.
She retrieved a light shawl, just in case there was a breeze, and left through the front door.
Eventually, her thoughts circled back to where they’d been.
Trent did deserve better than her, but perhaps that was irrelevant.
It wasn’t as if he was going to marry her.
He was only twenty. Not nearly old enough to settle down.
He’d want more time to sow his oats before taking a wife.
Perhaps that was all he wanted with her.
She stopped walking and turned her face to the sky to allow the sun to warm her skin.
Perhaps she should let him. He’d be gentle with her, of that much she was certain.
And maybe he could give her some happier memories to block out the worst ones that still haunted her.
“Miss Allister?”
Samantha opened her eyes to see Anthony studying her from ten feet away. She smiled at him. “Good afternoon, Anthony.”
“Are you alright?” He took a hesitant step nearer.
She nodded. “I’m just out enjoying some sunshine and working through a jumble of thoughts.”
“Would you like to talk?” he asked. “I know it used to help me figure things out when I would talk to my dad.”
She held out an arm and he rushed to offer his own for her to rest it on. “Do you miss him?”
His sigh was heavy with grief. “So much.”
“Was he a good dad?”
“The best.”
Samantha squeezed his arm gently. “You’ll be a good dad one day.”
He stopped and looked at her. “Do you really think so?”
“I know so. You have a kind soul, Anthony.”
He ducked his head and pink infused his cheeks. “What is it that’s bothering you, Miss Allister?”
She shrugged. “Things I probably shouldn’t speak of.”
“Things that involve Mr. Gibson?”
“Perhaps.”
“Forgive me if it’s impertinent to say, but I think he cares for you.”
“Perhaps,” she said again.
“And I think you care for him.”
“There’s the rub.”
His brow furrowed. “But I don’t understand. He’s a good man.”
“Without a doubt. But sometimes, life is more complicated than that. How’s your mother doing, Anthony?”
He hesitated, but eventually went along with her redirection. “She’s lonely. Not that she’d ever say so. But sometimes, she just looks lost.”
“Do you think she’d mind if I pay her a visit today?”
“She’d love to see you.”
When they walked through the door, they were met with an explosion of chaos. Two children, both having tantrums. One, a ten-year-old boy, and the other a girl no older than three, who had no clothes on.
When Mrs. Elmhurst turned around to see Samantha there, she gasped. She had Emma's clothes in one hand, and a book and blanket in the other. Her hair was half out of its pins, and the front of her was covered in both flour and dirt.
“Miss Allister! I’m so sorry. Please forgive me for just a moment.”
Samantha walked straight up to her and held out her hands. “Give me that.”
She took the items and set them down, then placed her hands on the woman’s frazzled shoulders. “Go to your room and take a few moments for yourself. Anthony and I will take care of them.”
She shook her head and started to argue.
“Go.” Samantha pointed to the hallway that led to the back bedrooms, and eventually, she went.
Before the screaming little girl could follow, Samantha picked her up. “Hush now, Emma. It’s alright. I need you to stop crying so you can tell me what’s the matter. Can you do that?” She continued to struggle in her arms and wailed at the top of her lungs.
Samantha looked over at Anthony. “Go and help your brother. With kindness,” she added. “Remember, he’s struggling too. And when you’ve finished with him, fill the bath for your mother, please.”
He nodded. “Yes, miss.”
Samantha sat down on the sofa and wrapped Emma in a blanket before settling her onto her lap. She rocked her until she slowly calmed.
It took at least a half hour before the house was finally quiet, and she’d had to send Mrs. Elmhurst back to her room twice.
After filling the bath for his mother, Anthony prepared his siblings some food.
Sometimes a little cheese and bread could make everything just a bit better.
With her tummy full, Emma was much more amenable to getting dressed in proper clothes.
“Why don’t we all go for a walk and give your mother a bit of quiet time?”
When they were outside, Samantha lifted Emma and placed her on Anthony’s shoulders. “Let’s see your best impression of a horse.”
He was shy at first, but after a few minutes, he trotted about, snorting and whinnying. Emma was overcome with giggles. Samantha had always loved it when her brother had done that for her.
“I want a turn!” John said.
Anthony passed Emma off to his younger brother, and the fun continued. The laughter and sunshine was just as good for her as it was for the children. They were beautiful, just going through an incredibly difficult time.
When they eventually returned home, the sun was low in the sky. Mrs. Elmhurst was dressed and clean, her hair pinned into place, and the whole house tidied.
“I don’t know how to thank you, Miss Allister.”
“There’s no need to thank me. Although, I wouldn't say no to a cup of tea.”