Stealing Jake - By Pam Hillman Page 0,22

to be here, Reverend.” Mrs. Brooks hurried her charges inside. “Come along, children; let’s find a seat.”

Livy glanced at the children, making sure the boys hadn’t managed to splatter mud on their pants. She pulled Seth aside, extracted a moistened hankie from her reticule, and scrubbed a spot of mud off his pants. She gave him a quick hug and a smile. “There you go. You look very handsome this morning.”

Seth squirmed away and joined the others. The girls looked as well as they could, considering their worn and threadbare clothes. The patched clothing didn’t concern Livy. Many of the townspeople didn’t have much better. But she did want the children to behave and represent Mrs. Brooks well.

As they filed into the church, Livy caught a glimpse of a couple of matronly women standing with Miss MacKinnion, the teacher, eyeing them and whispering behind their gloved hands. She glanced at Mrs. Brooks, who didn’t seem to notice the women. Georgie glared at the teacher, and Livy stepped between them, giving him a frown.

She sighed. Some people would always look down on destitute children who didn’t have much chance to better themselves. She’d learned that lesson firsthand. No matter. She and Mrs. Brooks would have to do everything they could to make sure the children earned the respect of the townspeople . . . starting with Georgie’s attitude toward Miss MacKinnion.

If only she could do something about Miss MacKinnion’s attitude toward the children. More than once the orphans had spoken of how the teacher treated them in front of the other students.

They settled on a bench close to the back as more people filed in, the men stomping snow off their boots, the women chattering among themselves about the past week, the cold, and the upcoming Christmas holiday.

Georgie grinned before pointing. “Miss Livy, look. It’s Mr. Jake.”

Livy’s face warmed even as she gently tugged his arm down. “It’s not nice to point, Georgie.”

She gave Jake a timid smile.

He shook Georgie’s hand. “Good morning, Georgie. How’re you today?”

“I’m fine.” He pushed his shoes against the bench in front of him. “Look—I got new shoes.”

Livy cringed. Georgie’s hand-me-down boots barely had enough remaining leather to protect the soles of his feet. But at least he wore shoes, polished to a high shine late last night.

Jake eyed the boots. “And they’re very nice shoes too.”

Livy noticed a middle-aged woman at his side, watching the exchange with a friendly smile. Jake turned. “I’d like to introduce you to my mother. Ma, this is Livy O’Brien. She and Mrs. Brooks are the ones I told you about. And this young man beside her is Georgie. Livy, my mother, Claudia Russell.”

Livy stood and made an awkward curtsy within the confines of the benches. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

Mrs. Russell reached out and gave her a quick squeeze. “You, too, dear. Jake told me all about the good work you and Mrs. Brooks are doing. You are a godsend to this town, I’ll tell you that.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Livy blushed at the praise, not daring to look at Jake. He’d been talking about her? And to his mother? Had he said anything else about her? Anything at all? And did she want him to?

Mrs. Russell shook Georgie’s hand. “And how are you, young man?”

“I’m fine, ma’am.”

Livy stared at Georgie in amazement. Where had this polite youngster come from? And what had he done with Georgie?

“Jake?”

He and his mother turned to face Miss MacKinnion and another woman. The other woman’s thin, hawkish face resembled the teacher’s, only a few years older. Probably her sister. The two women ignored Livy. Embarrassed, she sat down. She didn’t always understand the proper social mores of when she should be included in a conversation or not. But she couldn’t help but feel she’d been snubbed by the two women. She kept her eyes glued to the pulpit, unable to tune out the conversation going on in the aisle.

“Good morning, Lavinia. Mrs. Johansen.”

“Good morning, Jake. I’d be honored if you’d join us for Sunday dinner,” Mrs. Johansen said. “Lavinia made a brown sugar cake, and I know it’s one of your favorites.”

“Thank you for the invitation, ma’am, but Ma’s got dinner waiting for me at home.” He cleared his throat. “Maybe some other time?”

Livy chanced a glance out of the corner of her eye. The teacher’s lips thinned into a straight line before she relaxed, revealing a pretty smile for such an austere woman. A black cloak was draped over her arm. Livy’s eyes