A Stockingful of Joy by Hannah Howell

Author:Hannah Howell [Howell, Hannah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-07-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two

MAURA SCOWLED AT HER image in the mirror. She had done everything she usually did, but it did not look the same. Her hair was securely fastened in a bun at the back of her head, only a few whispers of curls left free. The collar of her black dress was high and tightly buttoned, revealing not the slightest patch of skin. Yet, something was ever so slightly different.

Shaking her head, she told herself she was imagining things. If there was a light flush to her cheeks or a hint of a sparkle to her eyes, it was because she was still vastly upset over being attacked. None of it had anything to do with a tall, dark man who called himself Mitchell Callahan.

As she stepped out of her room, she gave a delicate little snort of contempt. She could call herself Queen Victoria if she wanted to. It did not make it so. The man was going to have to give her more proof than his word no matter how beguiling his smile.

“Hello, Maura,” said an already familiar deep voice from right behind her.

Maura nearly cursed as she jumped in surprise, then whirled around to face him. “I thought we were to meet in the dining room.”

“I was just headed there.”

She just shook her head as he took her by the arm and started down the stairs. He was obviously a stubborn man, used to having his own way. If he did prove to be her ally and they began to travel together, she was going to have to curb his tendency to take her where he pleased. The fact that he discussed it with her made no real difference, for, as he talked, he dragged her right along to where he wanted to go in the first place.

Once seated in the dining room, he made no attempt to choose her meal for her, and her annoyance with him was eased a little. He made idle conversation about her life in Saint Louis and what she had seen in her travels until they were served. The amount of food that was set down in front of him made her eyes widen slightly, but she said nothing. He was a rather big man, at least a foot taller than her own five feet two, if not more, and probably required a lot to keep up his strength. It was not until they were served their dessert and coffee that he turned the conversation to the matter at hand.

“You still doubt I am who I say I am, don’t you,” he said, smiling faintly.

“I have to.”

“Yes, I suppose it is wise to be cautious.” He took a small packet of papers from a pocket in his coat and handed them to her. “This might help you decide.”

Letters, bills of sale, and even a short, scribbled message from Bill were amongst the strange assortment of papers. They were all addressed to him, Mitchell Callahan, or carried his signature. It was the very strangeness of the assortment, the mundaneness of the papers, that convinced her.

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