Second Chance Love. Shannon Farrington

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Chapter Three

      Elizabeth slowly opened the door. Even with the civilian clothing and chin whiskers, his resemblance to his brother stole her breath. The same nose, the same forehead, the same smile.

      David appeared to be just as taken aback by the sight of her.

      Yes, she thought. I look dreadful.

      Being too much of a gentleman to actually say such a thing, he quickly removed his hat. “Hello, Elizabeth.”

      “David...”

      He hesitated, as though he wondered if he should greet her with a kiss of the hand or a brotherly peck on the cheek. He did neither. He just stood there, the awkwardness between them very apparent.

      Finally, she had the presence of mind to step back and invite him inside. As he crossed the threshold, she offered to take his hat.

      “Thank you,” was all he said.

      Elizabeth laid it on the table and tried desperately to think of something to say to him. It was no use. All her thoughts revolved around Jeremiah. Just when Elizabeth felt tears gathering in her eyes, her mother stepped into the foyer. She cheerfully embraced David.

      “How good it is to see you again. Trudy tells me you have taken a job with a newspaper here in Baltimore.”

      His face brightened. “Yes,” he said. “The Free American.”

      “Oh? I’m not familiar with that one. Is that one of the penny presses?”

      He chuckled slightly at her mother’s question. “We aim to be a penny press, but I suppose as of now we’re more a halfpenny.”

      “Well, with you there, no doubt it will grow to be as big as...as...” Her mother was searching. “What was it you and Jeremiah were always reading?”

       “Harper’s Weekly.”

      “Yes. That was it.”

      Elizabeth winced at the mention of Jeremiah’s favorite paper. David even pronounced it the same. Hahpuh’s Weekly, as if there were no r’s in a Massachusetts man’s alphabet. “Congratulations,” she managed, forcing herself to enter the conversation. “I supposed, though, you would return to your position in Boston. You mentioned that quite often when we worked together.”

      The smile he had given her mother faded. A look of uneasiness took its place. “My job at the Journal was only as an assistant,” he said. “I didn’t get to do much writing. Here I will.”

      “I see.” She tried to think of something else to say but came up empty.

      After another long pause, her mother directed them toward the dining room. “Well, won’t you join us, David? Everything is on the table.”

      “Yes. Thank you.”

      They moved to do so. Trudy also welcomed him with a hug, while Elizabeth stood silently by. As soon as her mother offered David the seat at the head of the table, however, it was all she could do to keep from crying out. No! That’s Jeremiah’s seat!

      He had claimed that position on the very last evening they had dined together. Elizabeth could remember every detail. He had been the one to ask the blessing. It was his fingers that brushed hers when the serving dishes had been passed. Now David said Grace and offered her bread and butter. The pain cut so deep it was all she could do to remain at the table.

      “Tell us about your reporting,” Trudy insisted. “Have you been given any interesting assignments?”

      He told them about an article on the former provost marshal, but Elizabeth was only half listening. What route the conversation then took she could not say, but all of a sudden she heard David ask, “Have you heard from George?”

      Elizabeth looked up just in time to see her mother and sister exchange hesitant glances. Evidently certain that David’s question was one of brotherly concern and not a reporter’s inquisition, her mother then answered.

      “I’ve not heard from my son since the summer.”

      “Not since Gettysburg,” Trudy added.

      “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.