Janet Barton - A Home for Her Heart

She took a cleansing breath, pulled her notepad toward her and began looking over the photos Millicent had taken. Ideas on each photo began to bubble up and she wrote notes on each of them. She wanted to get the story to her editor as soon as possible in the coming week. John’s article would be sure to come out first—the Tribune was a daily paper after all. But it was a good thing, because when the Delineator came out on the first of the month, her article would serve to reinforce the need for action on the part of the city to do something about the neglect. Together, their staggered articles could help, and that was what she concentrated on as she mulled over where she wanted to start and what she wanted to get across to her readers. And in such a way that it wouldn’t be considered fluff by John.

* * *

John had worked into the night and was nearly late for church the next morning. He slipped into the pew next to Elizabeth just as the congregation started singing the first hymn and breathed a sigh of relief when she smiled at him and offered to share her hymnal.

She looked lovely, her blond hair piled up under a feathered hat that brought out the green in her hazel eyes. At least she didn’t seem upset with him anymore and for that he thanked the Lord. She actually looked more relaxed than she had since she was summoned to her aunt’s.

He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much when she was upset, but it did. He wanted to help but usually ended up being part of the problem when he said or did something stupid. He might as well face it. He was awkward around women. Didn’t know what to say half the time. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a mother’s influence growing up. At least that was what he told himself most of the time. Truth was, most of the time, his instincts where women were involved seemed nonexistent—or at the very least—wrong.

The sermon that morning was one on forgiveness and not judging each other. He prayed that Elizabeth had forgiven him for his selfish action of scooping up the photos he wanted before she had a chance to look at them the night before.

Deep down he wished he wasn’t so quick to put himself first in situations and tried to tell himself that it was only because he’d been on his own too long and was used to looking out for himself. Without anyone to encourage him, to stand up for him—to just be there for him—at least until he came to Heaton House. He’d made real friends here, and yet he’d been let down so many times, he was a bit leery of trusting that those friendships were lifetime ones—no matter how much he wanted them to be.

He stood with the others for the final hymn and closing prayer, getting a whiff of Elizabeth’s perfume as she stood beside him.

As the group filed out into the aisle, Elizabeth smiled at him again. “I thought you weren’t going to make it this morning when I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“I thought the same thing when I realized I hadn’t set my alarm clock and was late waking up.”

They met up with the others at the bottom of the steps and everyone began the walk back to Heaton House. He and Elizabeth fell into step behind Luke and Kathleen with Mrs. Heaton and her family taking the lead.

“Did you get much done on your article last night?” John asked.

“Actually I did get more done than I thought I would.”

“Good. I’m about finished with mine. I wondered...do you think we might have better luck in talking to some of the landlords of the places Kathleen tells us about if we visited them during the week? Do you think your boss would let you do that?”

She seemed a bit surprised as she looked up at him. Maybe she didn’t want to work with him anymore after his photo grab the night before. “I promise, I’ll let you get first choice of the next batch of pictures.”

She smiled then and the tightness in his chest relaxed.

“I’ll keep you to that promise, John. And I’m sure I can go during the week. I think you’re right. We might have a better chance of getting information from some landlords during the week—at least they should be around. We can try it anyway. What day and time did you have in mind?”

He shrugged. “How about tomorrow just after lunchtime? In fact, I’ll treat you to lunch and we can go from there. Surely we can catch a landlord in the early afternoon.”

“Tomorrow should be fine. Where do you want to meet?”

“I’ll come to your building and we’ll go from there.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you in the foyer at noon.”

That’d actually been easier than he thought it would be after last night. He had a feeling Elizabeth wasn’t thrilled to be working with him, and there were times he felt the same way. But Kathleen expected them to do so and neither of them had much choice in the matter. Might as well make it as pleasant as possible.

They arrived at Heaton House to the smell of roast chicken, one of John’s favorite meals. He loved Sunday dinner at Mrs. Heaton’s. She often had her son, Michael, and his wife, Violet, over, and now with her daughter, Rebecca, and granddaughter, Jenny, added to the mix, John felt he and the other boarders were part of a large, loving family.

Everyone hurried to wash up, take off their hats and in no time at all they’d gathered in the parlor in anticipation of Mrs. Heaton’s announcement that dinner was ready.

Two more leaves and four more chairs had been added to the long table for the company. Michael and Violet sat adjacent to Mrs. Heaton on her left and Rebecca and her daughter sat across from them, leaving it easy for the boarders to figure out where their regular seats were. John pulled out Elizabeth’s chair for her and slid it in before taking his own beside her.

“Will you say the blessing, Michael?” Mrs. Heaton asked.

“I’ll be glad to, Mother. Please bow with me, everyone.”

John bowed his head as his friend began.

“Dear Lord, we thank You for this day and for the people gathered around this table. We ask You to guide us to live each day in the way You would have us do and we ask You to bless this food. It’s in Jesus’s name we pray, Amen.”

Several “Amens” were added from around the table before the clink of silverware against china competed with mingled conversation. John smiled and settled back to enjoy his favorite meal.

As Maida and Gretchen, twin sisters who worked for Mrs. Heaton, began serving, John’s mouth began to water. Besides the roast chicken, there were mashed potatoes and two kinds of gravies, creamed onions and peas, carrots and crusty rolls—all favorites of his. It seemed everything served at Heaton House had become a favorite of his.

Elizabeth nudged his arm and nodded toward Jenny, who was thoroughly enjoying her mashed potatoes. “Looks like everyone has a favorite tonight.”

John grinned. The little girl had added another level of family feel to Heaton House. “She is enjoying herself, isn’t she?”

He took the basket of rolls she handed to him and placed one on his plate before handing it off to Matthew Sterling, one of the newer boarders. He was a builder helping to put up one of the tallest buildings in the city.

“Thank you, John.”

“You’re welcome. How is work going on your building?”

He grinned. “It’s getting taller every day.”

“I don’t know how you work up that high,” Millicent said from across the table. “The very thought makes me queasy.”

“Oh, I love it. The view is worth it. You can see the whole city from up there.”

“I’d love to take photos from up there,” Millicent said.

Matthew shook his head. “It’s much too dangerous for women up there.”

“Maybe you can go up in the elevator once it’s finished, Millicent,” Elizabeth said.