Forever Safe (Beacons of Hope #4) - Jody Hedlund Page 0,48

needs and made the arrangements. “Who?”

“You.” He lifted the canteen to his lips.

“Me?” She laughed. “I’m not trained to be a housekeeper. I’d much prefer to hire someone who knows what they’re doing and can give us the assistance we require.”

He guzzled water from his canteen, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. His neck and chin had a slight layer of dark scruff, which was out of character since he was normally so cleanly shaven.

“Besides, if I don’t hire someone, then your mother may think I expect her to wait upon me, and that would be awkward, don’t you think?”

Tom wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, and his eyes turned dark, almost dangerous. “My mom won’t be waiting on you, Victoria. Not now. And not ever.”

His voice contained a bite that she’d never heard there before, and it gave her pause. Before she could think of a suitable response, he spoke again in the same low tone.

“Apparently, you’ve been too preoccupied to notice that she doesn’t have any feet.”

His words seemed to reach out and slap her across the cheeks and she stumbled back a pace. “I didn’t know… I’ve only seen her twice and both times she was sitting at the table. I didn’t look…”

“That’s my point. You need to get better at looking at the needs of others instead of focusing so much on yourself.” Tom screwed the lid back on the canteen with jerking, almost angry movements.

Victoria swallowed a sudden rise of bile, not sure why she was suddenly sick to her stomach. Perhaps from Tom’s accusations? Or the fact that his mother had no feet?

He turned and started up the ladder without a backward glance.

Her heart pattered with the sudden need to prove herself to him. “Since your mother is impaired, isn’t that all the more reason to hire a housekeeper? Just think of how much help it would be to her.”

“To you,” he said. “You want the help for you.”

She couldn’t deny him, and somehow that made her feel even worse. “I’ll admit, a bath would be delightful.”

Tom swiped off his hat and jammed his fingers into his damp hair. He looked as though he wanted to say more. But then he slapped his hat back on and put a hand on the next rung. “You’re not hiring anyone, Victoria. It would jeopardize your safety.”

With that, he started back up the ladder.

She watched with growing helplessness. Who would iron her dress? Who would help her with her bath? And who would find her something to eat?

“I’m hungry. Could you at least bring me breakfast?”

Tom climbed higher. “You’ll find food in the pantry.”

“Pantry?” She’d never been in a pantry. She wouldn’t know where to find it, and even if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do with any of the supplies.

He stopped near the top and looked down at her. “My dad hasn’t slept more than a couple hours straight for the past two weeks. Today he is. Do you want to know why?”

She thought she knew. But before she could answer, he continued.

“Because I’m here to help him. And you’re here to help Mom.”

How could she possibly help Zelma? She’d never waited on anyone before. “I won’t know how to do anything—”

“You’re smart. You’ll learn fast.” With that, he dug his tool back into his pail and began to work again.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to learn. But she couldn’t sway Tom. Once his mind was made up, he was too stubborn.

She sighed and mopped a sleeve across her damp brow. For now, she’d have to resign herself to being without a housekeeper, even though she didn’t have any idea how she’d manage for herself, much less be of any use to Zelma. But she could try, couldn’t she? At the very least, in the short term, she could ask Zelma if she needed anything.

Then later, when Tom was done with his work, she’d corner him again and ask him to reconsider. He’d have to go into town to locate a seamstress. What harm would come from hiring a maid too? He owed her that much, especially since she’d already acquiesced to his plan and come out to the middle of nowhere. Since she’d compromised, he should too.

When she returned to the front sitting room, she was tempted to peer under the table at Zelma’s legs. But hadn’t her own mother’s condition taught her something? Her mother didn’t want other people to gawk or treat her differently because of her blindness.

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