Armored Hearts - By Melissa Turner Lee Page 0,5

of its fulltime staff just the month before. Thankfully he’d kept Sarah for Tabitha’s sake. She was fond of the maid and her husband. If Grandfather disposed of the dog and cat, Tabitha would be heartbroken, and Gareth couldn’t allow that.

“And how are things in the parish?” Grandfather sliced the meat on his plate as he questioned the minister, who came by every Tuesday to join them for dinner.

Reverend Piper sat up in his chair. “We’ve had several parishioners’ homes robbed in the last week. Mrs. Duncan’s silver spoons were taken, along with Mr. Duncan’s gold watch. It’s dreadful. Just dreadful. These aren’t people with pockets full of silver and gold to spare. Those items were keepsakes—heirlooms. Things they’d probably do better selling for a bite to eat—only to be taken by some hoodlums.” He shook his head and bowed it.

“What’s been done?” Grandfather asked in a bored tone and never glanced up from his dinner. He didn’t really care about the locals.

“The authorities have been notified and are looking into it,” Reverend Piper answered, with his mouth full. He swallowed hard and continued, “All the intrusions have been on the east side of the village. Most of those hit are farmers already struggling to make it. Something like this only brings spirits down further.”

Tabitha chimed in, “What can be done for them?”

Her eyes were wide with concern. Gareth felt it too but he kept it masked. He was more practiced at hiding his true feelings.

Grandfather glared at Tabitha, his expression stern. “Children are to be seen and not heard. If you cannot remember that, you will go back to dining in the nursery.”

Tabitha’s head bowed. “Yes, Lord Pensees.”

Reverend Piper stammered, “It’s sweet of the child to be concerned, don’t you think?” He looked across the table at Tabitha. “We can pray that God will send help. A guardian to watch over the shire. And for someone to bring work to the town. Farming isn’t sufficient for the people here any longer.”

Tabitha peeked up at the minister but kept her head bowed. “I will pray for that now.” She closed her eyes in silent prayer.

Gareth watched, amazed at her sweetness and faith. How could she keep it when she lived in a house run by Grandfather? Hard to believe she was related to the old man at all. She cared about stray animals and desperate people. All she could do was pray, and he knew she would do so every night.

Her sweetness and desire to help was contagious as Gareth began to think and tune out the old men as they spoke.

***

Reverend Piper had left and Grandfather had retired for the evening, but Tabitha was nowhere to be found. She normally waited by the stairs to keep lookout for Gareth so he could get himself to his room. He checked in Grandfather’s office. He often found her there, practicing her arithmetic on parchment or glancing at some of the latest marvels pictured in the newspaper.

Gareth wheeled himself out of the empty study and around to look in another room, but she wasn’t there either. He pushed the wheels through the open space of the foyer and into the hall toward the kitchen. It wasn’t proper for him enter. It was below his station, but he pushed harder toward the room, regardless, once he heard Tabitha’s weeping.

He watched from the open door of the kitchen. Sarah sat in a chair, cradling Tabitha in her lap. Sarah’s orange curls were coming loose from her bun. “There’s na ye can do fer the folk, but pray. God will hear yer prayers, just as Reverend Piper said.”

Tabitha sat back on the woman’s lap and wiped her wet eyes. “How do you know?”

Sarah pushed blonde hair that had fallen into Tabitha’s face behind the little girl’s ear. “Because the Good Book says the prayers of the righteous avails much and ye, me sweet girl, ’ave a good and righteous heart.”

Boot steps moved toward the two of them from the other side of the kitchen. Gareth had not realized Thompton was there, too, until the tall lanky man with brown hair knelt in front of Tabitha and took her small hand in his. “It also says the angels assigned to wee lads and lasses go before the throne of the Almighty daily. So ye say yer peace to God and He will get the message. And ye can sleep well knowin’ God heard ye.”

Thompton grabbed Tabitha under the arms, picked her up, and swung her in