She got up from the couch, straightened her clothing, and pushed her hair away from her face. Since she’d arrived at the Tanners’, she’d been French-braiding her hair, but it was always disheveled by the end of the day. As the children ran ahead of them to the kitchen, she said, “I know you said to put them to bed, but they begged so hard to wait up for you that I didn’t have the heart to make them go. I hope you don’t mind too much.”
“Mind?” he said, laughing. “I was being considerate of you. You’re supposed to have free evenings, and I didn’t want you to be bothered with them, after you’d had them all day.”
“I enjoyed the evening as much as they did. Besides, they needed help tonight, so I’m glad I was here. I’ll tell you about it later.”
He put his hand on her shoulder, and she darted a quick glance toward him. The expression in his blue eyes startled her, and she dropped her gaze quickly, not daring to interpret what she saw there. Impulsively, Mark embraced Alice in a brotherly hug, and for a moment, Alice rested her head on his shoulder.
Careful, Alice, don’t misinterpret his caress—he’s simply grateful to you for looking after his children, she told herself.
He dropped his arms, and she moved away from him casually, saying, “I can warm your dinner in the microwave if you haven’t eaten.”
“We had food sent in, so I’ve eaten, but the milk and muffins sound good.”
“Did you have a difficult evening?” she asked as they walked companionably down the hallway to the kitchen.
He groaned. “We met with a rich and very difficult client—one of the officers had offended him, and he was threatening to withdraw all of his assets from the bank, so the CEO wanted all of us there to mollify him.”
“Did it work?”
“Finally, but it was a long session.” He yawned.
Kristin had already placed four glasses of milk on the table, and muffins on napkins for each of them. Alice had intended to go to her room and not infringe on this short time Mark had with his kids, but she knew Kristin wouldn’t understand, so she sat down. She had no appetite, however, for as the children chattered about their day’s activities, from time to time, she sensed Mark’s eyes searching her face.
Mark took the last bite of his muffin and asked for another one. “Is it all right, Alice?” Kristin asked.
“Of course.”
“Now, you kids, go upstairs, brush your teeth and get in bed. I’ll be up to kiss you good-night as soon as I finish my snack,” Mark said. “Kristin, help Eddie.”
Alice started to tell him that Eddie didn’t need any help, but she decided to let Mark find that out for himself.
As the sounds of their footsteps faded up the stairs, Mark spoke quietly, “What kind of help did they need tonight?”
“Do you realize that Kristin and Eddie are afraid you’re going to die?”
His face blanched, and Alice continued, “They think they’ll lose you like they did their mother. They can’t understand why God let their mother die. I tried to talk with them and reassure them, but I don’t know how to explain God’s will to children. Betty said you’re an excellent counselor—perhaps you can talk with them.”
Mark laid down his fork, shoved the half-eaten muffin aside, and stared at the floor. At last he looked at her, and Alice was chilled by the bleak expression in his eyes.
“I can’t give them any assurance when I don’t have any for myself. I don’t know what’s going to happen to us.”
He pushed back his chair, and without a word left the kitchen. His footsteps sounded leaden as he climbed the stairs.
Alice remembered something Betty once told her, “I think he’s lost his faith, and that’s a terrible thing to say about a man who was a powerhouse in the ministry.” Alice had purposely watched to see if Betty’s suspicions were true, but since Mark had always been upbeat, she decided that Betty was overly concerned. However, it had bothered Alice that God was never mentioned in the house, and that none of them attended church services. The family’s spiritual life had been neglected during Clarice’s illness, and Alice intended to start taking the children to Sunday school. But in light of Mark’s words tonight, she suspected that he did have a serious problem.
If she was inadequate in comforting a couple of children, what words could she find to encourage Mark Tanner? And why should she concern herself about this man’s happiness—she’d come here only to be a nanny to his children, hadn’t she? Alice didn’t dare truly answer that question—not even to herself.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Mark had reverted to his pleasant self, and Alice sometimes wondered if she’d dreamed that moment when he seemed defeated, as if life had handed him more trouble than he could handle. Yet she knew she hadn’t imagined it, and during her daily devotions, she prayed for Mark’s spiritual condition.
Mark had agreed to the housecleaning plan, and Alice had arranged for the women to come the day she took Kristin to church camp, for since Gran and Eddie were going along, the house would be empty for the workers. She’d replenished Kristin’s wardrobe without Mark questioning the cost. He was impressed with the secondhand garments she’d purchased, not realizing that some of the items were new. He gave Kristin a ten-dollar bill for her camp expenses, and was none the wiser when Alice doubled the amount. For the first time since John Larkin had died and willed her a fortune, Alice felt good about her money.
Gran had protested when Alice invited her to go along.
“Oh, no, Alice, you don’t want to be saddled with an old woman like me.”
“Gran, you haven’t been out of the house since I’ve been here, and that isn’t healthy for you.”
Interest dawning in her eyes, Gran continued to protest. “But I don’t think I can get in that van of yours.”
“My husband was in a wheelchair the last several months of his life, and the van is equipped with a lift, which will make it easy for you to get in.”
“All right. It’ll be nice to drive out in the country. The campsite is in a very pretty part of this state.”
The camp was located near Charlottesville—the same camp Alice had attended when she was a girl, although quite a few improvements had been made since then, including an Olympic-size swimming pool. When she’d gone to camp, the swimming hole was in the creek, but she’d learned to swim there. It was at this camp that she’d dedicated her life to God, even then praying for a life of service. She’d thought her prayer had been fulfilled when she took care of John for several years, but perhaps that was just the beginning.
Since the round-trip drive would take several hours, Mark had hesitated to allow Eddie to go with them.
“He tires so easily,” he said. “I’m sure that Ethel will be glad to keep him. She’s helped out before when I didn’t have anyone to stay with the children.”
“But, Daddy, I want to see where Kristin is going.”
With a worried look, Mark finally agreed, but Alice wondered if he’d had second thoughts, when just before they were ready to start, Ethel barged into the house.
“I’m taking care of Eddie while you’re gone.”
“Eddie is going with us,” Kristin said. “Daddy said it’s all right.”
“Perhaps he changed his mind,” Ethel said breezily, a smug look on her face as if she had information they didn’t.
“I want to go, Alice,” Eddie said.
“Of course, you’re going, Eddie, unless Mark tells me differently within the next five minutes.”
She turned to Gran, who was limping down the stairs, and reached out a hand to help her descend the last two steps.
“Then I’m coming with you, Alice,” Ethel said. “You’ll need help with Gran, and Eddie, as sickly as he is.”
Eddie wilted at her statement, and annoyed, Alice said, “Eddie is not sickly. He doesn’t need any help.”
But short of physically removing Ethel from her car, Alice was helpless in the face of the woman’s brashness, as Ethel took Gran’s arm, led her out of the house, helped her into the van, and preempted the front seat where Alice had expected Kristin to sit. Her aggressive behavior was annoying, but since Ethel had been helpful during Clarice’s illness and after her death, Alice wasn’t in a position to antagonize a friend of the family. She was provoked at herself because part of her anger stemmed from Betty’s comment that Ethel was angling for Mark’s attention by befriending his children.
Ethel wasn’t a bad-looking woman. She was of medium height, with a slender waist, and shapely. Only a long thin nose kept her from having a beautiful face. Ethel was probably forty years of age, although she tried to disguise her few wrinkles with a heavy coat of makeup.
“Do you know how to find the camp?” she asked as Alice left the city behind and headed into open country.
“I attended camp there when I was a girl, but I wasn’t sure how to get there from Richmond, so Mr. Tanner gave me directions.”