approached Marty and Alice.
“I believe the wooden blocks and dolls were a success,” Marty said, smiling. She and Alice had worked to create five rag dolls for the girls, and Mr. Brentwood had arranged for the wooden building blocks to be cut and sanded. Painting them had been a time-consuming project, but Marty and Alice had mastered the task in love.
“I believe you are right. That is the joy of having nothing—even something small seems a great treasure. Speaking of which, I have something for you,” he said, smiling at Marty in particular.
“For me?”
He nodded and handed Marty a neatly folded shawl. “I couldn’t afford wrapping for it, but I knew you’d understand.”
Marty unfolded the material to reveal a beautifully crafted piece. “This is lovely, Mr. Brentwood, but I don’t understand.” She looked to him and saw his eyes light up and his smile broaden.
“It was knit by a poor Irish woman. She was selling her wares near the capitol, and I thought, well, I thought the color would be wonderful for your . . . eyes.”
Marty looked at the light blue yarn and nodded. “I love it.” She glanced at Alice. “The workmanship is quite impressive.”
As if remembering that they weren’t alone, Mr. Brentwood handed Alice something. “I purchased this for you.”
Alice smiled at the dark green scarf. “How lovely. You are too kind. I have nothing to exchange, I’m afraid.”
“I wouldn’t expect a gift from either of you. Your presence here has been a wonderful gift for me. I don’t know what we would have done without you,” he said, looking at Marty. Then he quickly added, “Both of you.”
“We feel the same way about you and the orphanage,” Alice replied before Marty could find her tongue. “Being allowed to stay here has been quite beneficial.”
“Indeed it has,” Marty said, growing a little uncomfortable. She hadn’t thought about it before, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Brentwood was coming to depend on them too much. After all, as soon as she and Alice could figure out what their future held, they would need to be on their way.
“I’m quite blessed,” the man said as he rubbed his hands together. “With you here, I can take a little time to solicit funds for the orphanage. I plan to do so immediately after today. People tend to be in a giving mood around Christmas. If I cansecure pledges of monthly support, I can rehire at least one worker. For instance, I could offer you a salary, Mrs. Wythe.”
“Nonsense,” Marty replied. “I am working for room and board. That’s more than fair. What you need is your former staff. They are better trained at the workings of an orphanage.”
“But the children clearly love you,” Mr. Brentwood said, glancing over his shoulder. He looked back at Marty and Alice. “You have made them feel loved and cared for.”
Marty didn’t want to ruin the day so she let the matter drop. In time, she would remind Mr. Brentwood that her presence at the orphanage was only temporary.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Marty said, “I have work to do. The children need something other than sweets and sandwiches and it will soon be time for supper.” She made her way to the kitchen, still clutching the shawl. Alice was right behind her.
“Is something wrong?” the younger woman asked once they were alone.
“I can’t really say.” Marty carefully placed her gift on a chair and went to put on her apron. “I suddenly felt uneasy. I’m worried that Mr. Brentwood is coming to depend on us too much. I fear he will expect us to remain here forever.”
“At least you,” Alice said, raising a brow. “He cares for you.”
“He cares for us both,” Marty protested. She took down a mixing bowl. “Would you retrieve the chicken and broth we put in the icebox and get it warming on the stove? I’m going to make dumplings.”
Alice hesitated. “Marty, you do realize that his feelings for you are different than they