was so chilled from worry that she couldn’t feel its heat.
“So what was this man like? Was he menacing? Did he have a weapon?” Sarah asked Mrs. McGinnis, trembling anew over the thought that she might have been harmed.
The housekeeper shook her head. “
Nae
weapon that I could see. As to his appearance, he was a big, hairy, evil brute of a fellow. I’ll ne’er forget him.”
“I wonder why he thought he wouldn’t be spotted by someone. I mean, the sun is hours from setting yet.”
“Loony’s why.”
“He must not have cared if he was seen.” Lottie, carrying the tea tray into the room, must have overheard Sarah’s question. “Or perhaps he is a night laborer and daytime is the only time he has for housebreaking.” Dispensing the steaming tea through the strainer, she set a cup in front of Sarah. It rattled against the saucer.
Sarah glanced at her friend. Lottie’s face was as pale as the cream glaze on the cups. “Lottie, you don’t have to stay. I’m too shaken to review the books today. It can wait.”
“What if the intruder comes back?”
“With the police just here, he won’t be back anytime soon.” “But he might return later,” Lottie answered. Mrs. McGinnis let out a fretful groan.
“Do you intend to lie in wait for him?” Sarah asked, attempting to keep her tone light.
“I could borrow Papa’s Colt and sit in the parlor . . .”
Sarah had to smile at that. “Your father would lock you in your bedroom first.”
“I would not tell him I had taken the gun. Really, Sarah, I am hardly a noodle.”
“Thank you, but there’s no need for such drastic measures.” Mrs. McGinnis huffed. “If that house lot in back wasn’t empty, we wouldna have this problem.”
“Have you ever seen him before?” Lottie asked her.
“I canna be sure . . .” The housekeeper’s face scrunched in concentration. “I think I’d remember a face that ugly.”
“If he was intent on housebreaking, I can’t fathom what he might have been after,” said Sarah. If he was willing to scale the rear yard wall in the middle of the day, that item must be precious indeed. What had he thought was in the house worth risking such a daring attempt? “Unless the fellow fancies tall caseclocks or silk-upholstered couches, there’s nothing of worth to steal. Besides, he could hardly cart those off, midday, without one of our neighbors noticing.” How Mrs. Brentwood, who always seemed to have her nose pressed to her window glass, didn’t spot him before Mrs. McGinnis had was enough of a wonder. “And I certainly don’t have any jewels or . . .” She was about to say “gold” when an unwelcome memory stopped her.
Sarah flushed hotly. She didn’t want to remember what had happened that day, how Edouard had betrayed her. But it was too easy to recall the sight of her Uncle Henry’s gold nuggets wrapped in a scrap of newspaper that had been shoved deep into Edouard’s inner coat pocket. Her shock, her anger and sense of betrayal were as fresh today as they had been that summer afternoon four years ago.
“Sarah, what is it?” Lottie asked, bending toward her. “You look ill.”
“It’s nothing. Just the shock of what’s happened today finally hitting me, I guess.” Edouard and her own past stupidity were irrelevant when she had very real and current problems to tackle. “I just wish I knew what the man thought he’d find here.”
Lottie appeared satisfied with her answer. “I do too. What do you think, Mrs. McGinnis?”
The housekeeper’s face was pasty pale. “
Och
, who knows?” Hastily, she stood and collected the teapot to replenish the hot water.
Sipping the tea—brisk black Assam tea that didn’t soothe like she wanted it to—Sarah watched her housekeeper depart down the short passageway into the kitchen. “This intruder has really shaken her. It’s possible she’s mistaken about what this man wanted, though. I’m betting he didn’t intend to rob us but was looking for a
“So what was this man like? Was he menacing? Did he have a weapon?” Sarah asked Mrs. McGinnis, trembling anew over the thought that she might have been harmed.
The housekeeper shook her head. “
Nae
weapon that I could see. As to his appearance, he was a big, hairy, evil brute of a fellow. I’ll ne’er forget him.”
“I wonder why he thought he wouldn’t be spotted by someone. I mean, the sun is hours from setting yet.”
“Loony’s why.”
“He must not have cared if he was seen.” Lottie, carrying the tea tray into the room, must have overheard Sarah’s question. “Or perhaps he is a night laborer and daytime is the only time he has for housebreaking.” Dispensing the steaming tea through the strainer, she set a cup in front of Sarah. It rattled against the saucer.
Sarah glanced at her friend. Lottie’s face was as pale as the cream glaze on the cups. “Lottie, you don’t have to stay. I’m too shaken to review the books today. It can wait.”
“What if the intruder comes back?”
“With the police just here, he won’t be back anytime soon.” “But he might return later,” Lottie answered. Mrs. McGinnis let out a fretful groan.
“Do you intend to lie in wait for him?” Sarah asked, attempting to keep her tone light.
“I could borrow Papa’s Colt and sit in the parlor . . .”
Sarah had to smile at that. “Your father would lock you in your bedroom first.”
“I would not tell him I had taken the gun. Really, Sarah, I am hardly a noodle.”
“Thank you, but there’s no need for such drastic measures.” Mrs. McGinnis huffed. “If that house lot in back wasn’t empty, we wouldna have this problem.”
“Have you ever seen him before?” Lottie asked her.
“I canna be sure . . .” The housekeeper’s face scrunched in concentration. “I think I’d remember a face that ugly.”
“If he was intent on housebreaking, I can’t fathom what he might have been after,” said Sarah. If he was willing to scale the rear yard wall in the middle of the day, that item must be precious indeed. What had he thought was in the house worth risking such a daring attempt? “Unless the fellow fancies tall caseclocks or silk-upholstered couches, there’s nothing of worth to steal. Besides, he could hardly cart those off, midday, without one of our neighbors noticing.” How Mrs. Brentwood, who always seemed to have her nose pressed to her window glass, didn’t spot him before Mrs. McGinnis had was enough of a wonder. “And I certainly don’t have any jewels or . . .” She was about to say “gold” when an unwelcome memory stopped her.
Sarah flushed hotly. She didn’t want to remember what had happened that day, how Edouard had betrayed her. But it was too easy to recall the sight of her Uncle Henry’s gold nuggets wrapped in a scrap of newspaper that had been shoved deep into Edouard’s inner coat pocket. Her shock, her anger and sense of betrayal were as fresh today as they had been that summer afternoon four years ago.
“Sarah, what is it?” Lottie asked, bending toward her. “You look ill.”
“It’s nothing. Just the shock of what’s happened today finally hitting me, I guess.” Edouard and her own past stupidity were irrelevant when she had very real and current problems to tackle. “I just wish I knew what the man thought he’d find here.”
Lottie appeared satisfied with her answer. “I do too. What do you think, Mrs. McGinnis?”
The housekeeper’s face was pasty pale. “
Och
, who knows?” Hastily, she stood and collected the teapot to replenish the hot water.
Sipping the tea—brisk black Assam tea that didn’t soothe like she wanted it to—Sarah watched her housekeeper depart down the short passageway into the kitchen. “This intruder has really shaken her. It’s possible she’s mistaken about what this man wanted, though. I’m betting he didn’t intend to rob us but was looking for a
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