The Lost Boys of Barlowe Theater by Jaime Jo Wright

Author:Jaime Jo Wright
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romantic Suspense;Christian fiction;Detective and mystery fiction; Novels;FIC042060
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2023-08-16T00:00:00+00:00

20

Greta

OCTOBER 1915

Officer John Hargrove jogged across the street toward Greta. His face was wreathed in a smile that deepened the long creases in his cheeks and emphasized his dark eyes. There was relief in his expression when he reached her side.

“You’re all right then?” he asked without any small talk or greeting.

Greta surveyed her surroundings. She’d just exited the hotel next to Barlowe Theater through the back door into the alley. She’d inquired about employment, only to be turned away. Disheartened, weary, and dreading returning to Grove House with no hope to offer her brothers, she eyed John and answered, “I’m all right.”

He leaned closer. “I know you were relocated to Grove House. I was worried when I heard the news.”

A flush crept up her neck. She’d not told Oscar or Eleanor, and after she’d received a nod from Oscar solidifying their secretive plans for the key and the theater, Greta hoped she would meet no one else she knew. It was unfortunate that she should meet John. Unfortunate that he knew of her embarrassing circumstances.

John ushered her into an alcove in the alleyway, where a maple tree rustled in the breeze, dropping orange leaves around them. He swiped his officer’s cap from his head. “I’m worried about you and your brothers.”

“You needn’t be.” Greta smiled weakly. In that moment, she wished he did have reason to worry, that she and the boys were his responsibility. A law-enforcement officer, one known for his confidence and strength. Whoever ended up being wife to John Hargrove would be a blessed woman. She’d want for no other protector.

It wouldn’t be Greta, that was for certain. With her recent move to Grove House, her dreams of a better life had spiraled downward. The very fact she lived there now would besmirch her reputation irreparably. The Mercy family would be viewed as those who lived among loose women, those too lazy to pay their offenses, as failures at life and work, men and women who were no longer in their right minds, some of them too old and as unclaimed by family as a stray dog. Grove House was filled with the unwanted, the unneeded, and the unwarranted.

“What can I do?” John asked.

Why he cared so emphatically, Greta did not know. “There is nothing you can do, John.”

“I don’t accept that. You don’t deserve to live at Grove House. There must be . . .”

Greta shook her head. “The only way is for me to find the means to support my brothers and myself. To find affordable lodging—which is laughable since I couldn’t afford to keep our previous place of rent.”

“You’re of age,” John blurted, his countenance flushed. “Marry. Or—”

“Marry whom?” She didn’t mean to challenge him so and regretted it immediately.

John, flustered, twisted his hat in his hands. “I-I don’t know.”

Her heart sank, even though it shouldn’t. She knew that was not what he had intended to imply. His interest in her, though likely sincere, was coated in the unspoken reality of their stations in life.

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