14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
It had been over two years since Anna visited the Richmond Refuge and Settlement Home.
Collin had visited many times to distract himself from the horrors he endured during the war while Anna remained at home, dedicating her time to the Women’s Suffrage movement.
Now, standing before twenty-three years of work she abandoned, shame consumed her.
She had told herself the suffrage movement was just like charity work, but she had been compulsive about finding things to fill the hole in her heart created by the past—being controlled because she was seen as inferior.
Half of her life had been painful, but in the process, she gained true friends, Agatha and Isaiah Wellings.
Without them, she would have never discovered her true calling as an activist and a loving wife and mother.
They were more than just friends—they were family.
Despite them being servants, they always rose above their positions to be parental figures.
After Collin and Anna made the tough decision to leave Richmond to raise their girls, they entrusted the settlement home to the care of Agatha and Isaiah, and they had done a remarkable job.
One thing Anna regretted was not giving her daughters the opportunity to know them.
The three of them had grown up without hardly a thought of the Wellings rather than “old family friends.” But Evie walked beside Anna this time, carrying a basket of baked goods in hand, ready to reconcile lost time.
Anna had been surprised when Evie volunteered to accompany her.
Anna had asked Marjorie, and as she predicted, the girl had a shopping trip planned with Ramona Nicholson.
Anna rang the doorbell, and, as she had hoped, Agatha appeared from behind the door.
The woman was twenty-four years older than she had been when Anna first arrived in Richmond as Collin’s bride, but she had hardly aged.
Her silver hair was pulled back in the tight bun she normally wore and her spectacles still clung to her nose.
The only difference was a few extra wrinkles under her eyes, but nothing else was prominent.
The woman squealed and wrapped Anna into a tight embrace as she cried tears of joy.
It had been too long. Far too long.
Agatha pulled back and cupped Anna’s face in her hands. “My darling, Anna.” Agatha then faced Evie. “Evangeline? Is that you?’
Evie’s lips curved into an awkward smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
Agatha embraced her. “Oh sweetheart, you have grown.” With glistening tears in her eyes, Agatha studied Evie’s face. “You look just like your father.”
Anna’s heart dropped at Agatha’s words. She knew how much those words hurt her daughter’s feelings.
People had been saying it since Evie was a little girl, including Anna’s mother.
Mother’s complexion had been much like Evie’s, along with her blonde hair, but each of Evie’s facial features was like Collin’s—the eyes, the smile, the ears, and the chin.
Margaret and Marjorie both favored Anna’s fair skin, eyes, and hair, but both were starkly contrasted in personality.
“Come, come,” Agatha said, taking Evie’s hand in hers.
The building’s interior was just how it was when they left—clean, decorated, and simple.
Nothing seemed extraordinary, except for the towering staircase that ascended to the balcony overlooking the city—where Anna and Collin vowed to give their marriage a chance.
The building had been on the verge of being condemned then, and Collin had saved it on his own terms.
Touring the space in the open and seeing the children in the classrooms brought Anna back in time.
Times had changed, but not everything. The memories still remained.
Agatha led them both into the kitchen, where a small dining table was placed by the window.
Sunlight filtered through faded lace curtains, casting upon the worn surface of the table.
In the corner, a few loaves of bread were cooling, ready to be shared among the residents.
“Sit, sit,” Agatha said, referring to the chairs.
Anna and Evie both sat while Agatha retrieved a tray of tea.
She began setting the table with a jar of sugar and a creamer filled with milk.
The long square tables in the next room were neatly arranged with blue and violet floral arrangements in the center.
The former walls had been removed, giving room for the dining rooms to be larger to feed the refugees all at once.
“Where is Isaiah?’ Anna asked.
Agatha smiled as she poured the tea. “He’s taking a gentleman across town to an interview.”
“That’s wonderful,” Anna said. “It’s good to see that there is still progress being made.”
Agatha handed Evie her tea. “I always hate goodbyes, but I’m always thrilled to see another family get back on their feet. This gentleman has a wife and two young daughters. They recently came from Ireland.”
“I do hope he gets the job,” Anna said. “I remember how it used to be with immigrants. They were always living in the poorest conditions, unable to get a chance at decent employment.”
“Those poor dears,” Agatha said, sitting down. She faced Evie. “It was so crowded here. I was frightened we’d have to send people away.”
“But God provided,” Anna reminded. “And we didn’t starve that winter.”
Evie sat quietly, drinking her tea. If only Anna had encouraged her daughters to spend more time with Agatha. Perhaps then Evie wouldn’t seem so distant, treating the woman like a stranger rather than the caring figure she’d always been.
Anna smiled. “Evie has been researching during her time here.”
Agatha’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, how exciting. What have you been studying, dear?”
Color spread across Evie’s face. “Biology.”
“Biology,” Agatha repeated. “It sounds like an interesting subject.”
“She worked as a volunteer under the nurses at the hospital when Collin was injured. Since then, she has taken an interest in nursing,” Anna explained.
Evie stiffened. Anna thought the subject would help Evie express herself, but instead, she sat still.
“Nursing is a wonderful vocation. Do you plan to go to nursing school? I hear there is a new school that just opened nearby dedicated to the cause, St Philip’s.”
Evie’s posture slouched, her eye contact unsteady. “I . . . don’t know.”
Anna ran her fingers through Evie’s curls. “She’s still praying over the matter.”
“That is very wise,” Agatha said. “When you’re at a crossroads, God is always there to guide you. I have no doubt He will lead you in the direction you should go.”
“Thank you,” Evie said sheepishly.
Agatha took a sip of her tea. “Now, there is a library upstairs. I have it reserved for the children. It consists mostly of children’s literature, but I do believe someone donated some science books. You may take as many as you please if that interests you.”
Evie’s eyes widened and a smile curved at her lips—a real one. She looked at Anna.
“You may go,” Anna permitted.
“Thank you, Mrs. Agatha,” Evie said as she stood.
“Watch your step. That staircase is still slippery,” Agatha warned as Evie walked away.
“Always has been,” Anna reminded.
Agatha sighed, leaning back against the chair. “Oh, those days.”
Silence came over Agatha and Anna for a second. With Evie gone, she had an opportunity to speak her mind. She had longed for Agatha’s advice since arriving back in Richmond.
“Something is bothering you, my dear,” Agatha said.
“Indeed so.”
Agatha’s posture straightened. “What is ailing you?”
Anna retrieved her handkerchief from her pocket and gripped it tight. She knew she’d cry before this session was over, just as she had been all week.
“Oh, Agatha, our lives are falling apart again.” Anna tried to continue but the tears came. “My father-in-law’s will . . . It feels like everything’s happening all over again.”
Anna saw her marriage as a good thing and wouldn’t trade it for the world, but the pain she had felt years ago—the betrayal, the hatred, the anguish—all kept flooding back.
The Nicholsons were selfish people who didn’t care about anyone but themselves.
She wouldn’t let them hurt Margaret, but Margaret was the one who had a choice to make.
“Margaret must find a husband before her twenty-first birthday. She’s so young. She doesn’t deserve this.”
“What does Margaret say?’ Agatha asked.
Anna wiped her eyes. “She’s determined to fulfill the challenge. She wants to restore the family fortune.”
“Dear God, help us,” Agatha murmured. “Have you spoken to her? You know exactly how it feels. You can warn—”
“I have already tried,” Anna confessed. “She is still willing. She . . . has a suitor. He’s a marquess.”
Agatha’s eyes widened, and then she frowned. “She’d have to move away.”
“I want her to be happy, but not this way.”
“Does she love the man?”
Anna shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Agatha wrapped her hands around Anna’s. “I know how much pain your husband’s family has inflicted, but it’s not too complicated for God to handle. You must keep your trust in Him. Perhaps He sent the marquess to be someone Margaret needs.”
Anna gripped Agatha’s hands. “I’m trying to trust God, but . . . I feel so neglected.”
“Anna,” Agatha said sharply. “You are not neglected. Neither of you are. God puts us through complicated seasons, but He always provides what we need in the process.” Agatha pointed around the room.
“How would these people have a safe place to live if God hadn’t brought you and Collin together?
Those wounds were healed, and so will the ones you are feeling now. ”
Agatha planted a kiss on Anna’s hand. “I love each and every one of you as my own family. Isaiah and I will be praying day and night.”
“Thank you,” Anna whispered.
Agatha knew exactly what to say. She was older and wiser, but she was a woman after God’s own heart—someone Anna longed to be.