Max could see that a variety of things were rearranged and re-fashioned. Someone had even painted the cupboards, much to his pleasure. The others had been a dismal shade of pale green. He had even wondered if perhaps Evie would want to replace them all together.
“It looks quite nice. I appreciate all that’s been done.” He drained the glass and placed it on the table before making his way from the kitchen to the front parlor.
Mrs. Brown, the housekeeper sent by the Turners, was in her fifties and yet as spry as if she were half those years. When he walked into the room, he found her up on a ladder, dusting the chandelier. She saw him and very nearly jumped from the rungs.
“Goodness, but you gave me a start, Mr. Garrison.” She came to him and dusted her hands off on her apron. “Good to have you home, sir.”
“Mrs. Brown, it’s good to be home. I missed this place and returned to find it much improved. I’m quite amazed at what you and the others have done in such a short time.”
“Mrs. Turner is the one to thank. When she returned to the city with the children, she came over here and set everything in motion. I think you’ll be pleased with what she’s done. She hasn’t taken it over, merely arranged for cleaning and painting here and there. A few repairs were made as well. However, she stressed that she would leave the majority of the changes to you and...” She stopped abruptly. “I’ve said too much. Forgive me.”
“Nonsense.” He leaned down and whispered, “If you were about to say Miss Evie, then you were correct. I intend to ask for her hand.”
“That’s wonderful, sir. Miss Evie is a charming young woman. We all think so much of her.”
“I’m glad, because if you’re of a mind to stay on with us, it would be a good thing for you to think well of your mistress.” He grinned, and she did as well.
“Will you be taking dinner here this evening, sir?” Mrs. Bombeck asked from the doorway.
“No, in fact I’m heading over to dine with my father and stepmother. I sent word to let them know to expect me. Hopefully,they’ll feed me, even with late notice.” He smiled. “I’d best go get changed for dinner.”
At 6:30 that evening, Max sat down to dinner with his father. To his surprise, the Duchess was suffering from one of her headaches and sent her apologies. Max was sorry for her misery but glad to have his father to himself. He hoped to hear if anything more had been said regarding the fires. From what little information he’d read in the newspapers, it seemed the fire had all but been dismissed and focus was completely on the rebuilding of Nicollet Island’s southern tip. He’d seen very little about the losses or reconstruction of Boom Island.
“How much longer will you be forced to wear a sling?” his father asked first thing.
“At least another three weeks, possibly longer. Dr. Turner believes the bone is healing nicely. The burns are also coming along and aren’t as bad as originally thought. I will still bear the scars for the rest of my life, but only in a few areas rather than my entire left shoulder and part of my neck.”
“I am glad to hear that.” His father signaled the butler and asked him to have dinner served. “I thought it rather foolish for you to be gone so long in the wilds while healing from such injuries.”
“I was able to keep my mind occupied and off the pain by teaching. I had some thirty students, and they all did very well.”
His father tsked and shook his head. “Teaching destitute children. I would never have wanted that for you.”
“I found it suited me very well. Someone once commented on my discontentment in life and suggested my problem was that I was doing nothing for others. I found that to be true. Helping with those left homeless by the fire gave me a great sense of purpose. I don’t suppose there’s been any further news on the Boom Island fire?”
“What possible news would there be? As the newspapers and everyone who knows anything about the fire has declared, it was started by embers from Nicollet Island. There’s nothing else to be known.”
Max considered this for a moment and then nodded. He knew in his heart that he needed to let the matter drop. God knew the truth, and that had to be enough. It truly was possible there was no wrong to be made right.
The footmen came with soup. It looked to be some type of creamed dish, perhaps carrot or squash from the looks of it. Max looked at his father after the men had gone. “Might I offer grace?”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “Since when do you pray?”
“Since the fire, when I begged God to save my life.” Max bowed his head. “Father, we thank You for this bounty and ask Your blessing on this meal and the hands who have prepared it, as well as all in this household. Amen.”
He looked back up to find his father still watching him. Max picked up his spoon and sampled the soup. To his surprise, it was pumpkin. “This is quite delicious.”
Father squared his shoulders and picked up his spoon. “I’m glad you like it. I don’t suppose you’ve had a decent meal in weeks.”
“We ate quite well at the farm. Simply, but well. The women there took turns helping to cook and bake. They were quite a talented bunch.” Max took a piece of bread when offered by the servant. He would have liked to have buttered it but still found two-handed duties most tasking. Maybe it was pride, but he didn’t feel like asking for help.
“I received word from New York that the insurance checks will be sent out this week. I instructed them to send yours here as I didn’t know your new address.”
Max didn’t know how to respond. He felt a bit more confidentthat the fire hadn’t been set, but given the doubts in his mind, he hesitated to take any income generated off the devastation. He busied himself with eating the bread and considered what to say.
Father didn’t seem to notice and continued. “Rates are sure to increase, I suppose. Perhaps now with hopes of the economy returning to normal, it won’t be too exaggerated an increase. Those who lost their jobs are working with some businesses to clear away the debris. Most of the ash and burned wood has been used as fill between Boom Island and the bank. I believe the desire is to join it in with the east shoreline.”
Max knew it was pointless to be drawn into an argument about the fire and all that had taken place. In order to put this entire matter to rest, he wanted to speak with Dr. Turner, perhaps the next evening at their family night gathering. Max believed that if he shared his concern with the good doctor and was advised to let matters go, then he would do just that and accept the fire was nothing more than an accident.
