The Garden of Love by Mary Eleanor Wilson

Author:Mary Eleanor Wilson [Wilson, Mary Eleanor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Victorian, Late Life Romance, Women's Fiction, Historical, Civil War, Small Town, Scarred Hero/Heroine, Second Chance Love, Family Life/Oriented
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2015-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The afternoon of the Christmas show bore down on the city of Louisville with the gloomy portent of snow. Finola worried that Liam might not fare well traveling out in the cold, but she took care to make sure his woolies were clean and ready to wear under the fashionable suit she had bought for him at the mercantile.

Timothy undertook the task of combing down the child’s unruly hair while Finola dressed. She had saved most every penny of her wages and from that cache had bought a lovely but simple navy silk skirt and jacket. She felt like a queen as she turned in front of the bedroom mirror.

Her hair, rarely ever out of its tidy bun, flowed about her shoulders, held back on each side with delicate silver combs. She even had new black slippers to wear, and she stared down at them with admiration.

With careful concentration, she clasped a dainty silver chain around her neck and adjusted the matching silver cross just above the chaste neckline of her white linen blouse peeking from the jacket’s neckline. She looked at her mirrored image with satisfaction. She may not be a Mary Louise Rankin, but she still made a fine specimen of a woman she reckoned.

Timothy called to her from the hallway to say that they would meet her by the door. Finola drew her cloak from the closet and hurried toward the door. Had she forgotten anything? Ach! Her reticule.

With her things all gathered, she made her way to the staircase and carefully walked down each step. The last thing she needed was to slip in these unfamiliar shoes and crash down head first.

“Da, look,” Liam whispered. “Look there.”

She saw him watch her as she descended the stairs, and her heart pounded with each step.

“Could this be our Finola? Could it be?”

“Oh, go on with you,” she scoffed. “You know it’s me.”

“Finola, you look divine.” Liam sighed, his smile wide.

“Well, thank you.” She shooed them toward the door. “Now, let’s get going before we miss the whole thing.”

They went out into the frigid December air, but Finola never felt a shiver. She was as warm as her heart would allow. The three of them laughed and chatted on the way to the theater, and she was overwhelmed with the impressive feeling that they had become a family. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Look at that, Liam,” Timothy said. “We’ve even made her smile.” He winked at her, and her cheeks grew warm despite the chill in the air.

All too soon they arrived at the theater. Timothy and Liam helped her down from the carriage, and she felt quite royal as they entered the building. As had been promised, Mary Louise had left three tickets for them at the box window. An usher showed them to their seats, and they were all pleased to find they had perfect seats to see every action.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Finola whispered. “It must be a dream.”

Liam sighed and patted her hand. “The lights are going down.

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