The Pride of a Gentleman by Linda Rae Sande

Author:Linda Rae Sande [Sande, Linda Rae]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2017-02-24T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

The Overby Kids

Earlier that morning

As was his custom, Stephen Bingham arrived at Wellingham Imports by five-thirty in the morning. He left his horse in the capable hands of one of the stable boys who cared for the company’s horses as well as those of employees who rode to work. And, as the warehouse manager, he usually unlocked the front doors of the establishment upon his arrival.

He found them unlocked on this particular morning.

Cautious and on alert, he entered the premises and listened intently, trying to determine if Thomas Wellingham had uncharacteristically arrived early or if someone else had already entered the warehouse. Not hearing anything other than the ordinary sounds of the riverfront, he made his way to the stairs leading to his office. At the sound of quiet weeping, he stopped and cocked his head. Sure it was coming from within the building, he changed direction and walked into the warehouse, quietly following the sounds of sniffling and weeping until he found their source huddled in a blanket behind a crate.

“Please, Mr. Bingham, don’t be angry,” Billy Overby pleaded as he looked up to find the warehouse manager staring down at him. The boy had his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a small girl, and it was her quiet sobs that broke the early morning silence.

Mr. Bingham stared at the two children for a moment before replying, “I am not angry. But who is she?” he asked as he indicated the filthy toddler the boy held in a protective hug.

“This is my sister, Miss Katie, sir,” Billy replied quietly. “I didn’t know where else to bring her,” he added as he fought back tears of his own.

His brows furrowing, Mr. Bingham regarded the caddie. “Shouldn’t she be with her mother, boy?” he asked, surprised that Billy even had a sister. The caddie never talked about his family life nor mentioned where he lived.

“Yes, sir,” the boy replied, his tears finally appearing in the corners of his eyes. “But she went to sleep two nights ago and hasn’t woke up,” he added with a shake of his head. “I think she’s dead.”

Failing to suppress a hiss, the warehouse manager took a deep breath and nodded once. “When was the last time you ate something?” he wondered, noticing the boy’s deep set eyes and pale complexion. The toddler’s condition was worse; her hair hadn’t been combed in at least a week, and her tear-stained face and the hand that showed over the top of the blanket were so dirty, he wasn’t sure if she was indeed a little girl.

“I ... I don’t know, Mr. Bingham,” the boy replied, his tears finally letting loose in a sob that shook his entire body.

The warehouse manager nodded his understanding. “Stay here while I find ye something to eat. We’ll figure out something for you when Mr. Wellingham gets here,” he said as he scratched his head.

When the Wellinghams arrived for work at nine o’clock that morning, Stephen Bingham hurried to intercept them before they could make their way up to their offices.

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