No matter which way she turned, slumber eluded her. She could not escape the workings of her mind which was busy replaying the afternoon’s conversation with Aunt Tempy and Tempy’s revelations about her own life.
Can you carry a man’s child and give it up? Ask yourself why… Why?”
Over and over Aunt Tempy’s voice echoed through her mind.
And then there was another voice taunting her. A deep, husky voice—fierce, yet strangely, tender. Reese’s voice. I want you to provide the child. To conceive him, carry him, deliver him, give him to me and walk away. Forever.
Forever.
I have my reasons. If I could do this alone, I would.
Ask yourself why.
I have my reasons…
On and on, through the long night, Faith heard their voices—Aunt Tempy’s full of love and concern, Reese’s husky with a very different emotion.
She asked herself why she wanted to have Reese Jordan’s child. Because he was willing to pay her a great deal of money? The mercenary part of Faith told her she should do it for the money. But the other, womanly, side of Faith insisted she should do it for love. While it was unthinkable for Faith to do such a thing for herself, there were other people—dearly beloved ladies—to consider. What was unthinkable became acceptable when the lives of her ladies were at stake. And while Faith told herself she would do anything for her family, the womanly part of her, the deeply hidden, yearning part of her, urged her to do it for herself. Miracles did happen when one worked for them and maybe, just maybe…
Faith finally gave up all pretense of trying to sleep. She rose, bathed hastily from the basin, dressed for church, and went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
The wonderful smell of bacon frying roused the others from their beds and they began to wash and dress and file into the kitchen to help. Hannah was the first to enter and found there was very little to do. Faith had everything prepared.
Hannah smiled. “It isn’t fair, Faith. You’ve been up early two days in a row, making breakfast for all of us.”
“I don’t mind,” Faith said. “I couldn’t sleep and I enjoy making breakfast, but you can brew some tea if you like.”
Hannah was thrilled with the chore. It was the thing she did best. “It’s so nice to have real breakfasts again, with bacon and ham and biscuits and eggs. You’ve become a cook, Faith. Imagine that. Before the war, you would never…” Hannah put the kettle on to boil and filled the china pot with tea. “Never mind. You spoil us so. We’ll all miss it.”
“Miss what?” Tempy stood in the doorway.
“Faith,” Hannah told her. “When she leaves us to go to Wyoming.”
“Has she decided to go?” Tempy asked, watching Faith closely and waiting for an answer.
“Of course, she’s going,” Virt answered from behind Tempy. “She’ll lose the job if she doesn’t. She has to go.”
Tempy took the platter of bacon from Faith and set it on the table. “Are you going, Faith?”
“Yes, Faith, are you going?” Agnes chimed in.
“Well,” Faith said, teasing. “after breakfast, I’m going to church, but that’s as far as I plan to travel—for today, anyway. Isn’t that right, pumpkin?” She reached down and lifted Joy, who was pressed against Tempy’s skirts, into her arms.
Joy nodded and Faith successfully diverted the conversation. Agnes’s question was forgotten for the moment.
But it wasn’t forgotten for long. Faith was abruptly reminded of it in the churchyard after the Sunday service.
“Faith? Faith!” A large woman, dressed in bright red wool, waved her handkerchief in Faith’s direction.
Faith turned at the sound of her name and groaned aloud at the sight of Aunt Virtuous in conversation with Lydia Abbott.
What now? Faith thought, as Aunt Virt and Mrs. Abbott made a beeline for her. Lydia Abbott was a notorious busybody and the biggest gossip in Richmond.
“Faith.” Mrs. Abbott managed to breathe Faith’s name once again, though she was winded from the trek. “What’s this Virt tells me about your going to Wyoming? Your aunt has been bragging that you’ve landed a job as governess for the child of a very rich man. And Myrtle Jenkins told me all about Augustus’s trip out to your house with a wagonload of Christmas presents. You new employer must be paying you quite well if you spent money on Christmas”—she looked at Faith slyly—“when everyone in town knows you need money for your taxes and that tumbledown house. It’s so exciting. Imagine, little Faith Collins, going out west alone to work for a rich gent
leman. Why don’t you stop by the house for Sunday dinner and tell us all about your job? I just can’t get over it, Faith Collins actually working for a living.”
“I don’t think there is anything left to tell, Mrs. Abbott, everyone else seems to have filled you in quite thoroughly.” Faith glared at Virtuous. She didn’t begrudge her aunt a little boasting…but to Lydia Abbott of all people. “Thank you for your offer, but we have Sunday dinner waiting for us at home.” Faith put her hand under Aunt Virt’s elbow and steered her away from Lydia. “Good day, Mrs. Abbott.”