The Secret of Bell Cottage

Chapter Twenty - Gideon

Gideon sat at the kitchen table while Mrs. Sparrow bustled about, making tea. He wasn't sure how he'd come to be here. He had some vague memory of her helping him to his feet after his confession and leading him down to the kitchen. He was still shaken from his discovery. For his father to have spent most of the Chesterton fortune on that memorial, was inconceivable.

"Here we are." A porcelain cup and saucer were placed before him as the widow took her seat at his side. "I wish we had some bread and butter to go with it but Kitty hasn't had time to bake any."

"Thank you." He reached for the cup and took a hesitant sip.

"A nice hot cup of tea can cure a thousand ills." She smiled, sipping from her own cup.

He set the cup back in the saucer and slowly turned it in place. It did help him find some balance. But the discovery of his father's devotion haunted him. He saw again that cave filled to the brim with treasures, both the purely nostalgic and the extremely valuable. How could Father have spent all that money on something so sentimental? It was so completely out of character. His strict, overbaring father had built a shrine to memorialize a son he rarely ever interacted with. It was simply unfathomable.

"Would you like to talk about it?" She asked quietly.

Gideon shook his head slowly. He didn't want to discuss it. He didn't even want to think about it. He'd had no inkling of his father's sentimental nature. That had been well hidden in life. If only Father could have found some means of expressing those sentiments during their time together. Now it was too late. There were fences that could never be mended and Gideon was left with only regrets.

"My father always said, 'We can't stay bound to the past. We have to forge our own future.'" Her smile took on a nostalgic glow as she relived fond memories.

Gideon gratefully accepted the olive branch she offered. He realized she was trying to distract him from his dismay.

"He must have been a very innovative, forward thinking gentleman."

She nodded, smiling fondly, caught up in her own memories.

"He was. He loved tinkering with just about any contrivance. He spent hours down in his workshop constantly inventing and building devices intended to make our lives easier."

Gideon hesitantly returned her smile, although his was tinged with sorrow.

"I was often his assistant in the shop," she chuckled softly. "Four sons and I was the one who worked with Papa. He tried to teach me the workings of his machines, but I could never seem to grasp the concept."

"A very modern thinking gentleman, to teach a daughter such technical matters."

He took another sip of his tea and discovered he was slowly recovering his equanimity.

"I was the oldest." She shrugged in a nonchalant manner, and then sadness darkened her round features. Her eyes remained focused on the teacup as she set the cup back into its saucer. "He died when I was eighteen."

"A very young age to lose one's parent." He commiserated.

She nodded with a regretful sigh and several locks hair slid down over her face. Absently, she brushed at the wayward curls. He watched the move with renewed interest. It was an endearing habit. For the first time, he noticed that her glorious copper hair was braided in one long plait down her back. The housedress she wore was wrinkled and misshapen. No doubt she had been in bed. It was very late. And here she sat, selflessly offering her company, her compassion.

Humbled, he reached out and covered her small hand with his. She stared down at their joined hands for a moment and he watched her closely as she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his own. There was sadness still in those warm brown depths, but there was also something else. Loss and loneliness and yet strength. She had faced the same torment and weathered the storm. He felt a closeness with her that he had never experienced before.