Singing Sweetly

Evelina’s voice was beautiful, but the words brought back bad memories for Hayden . . .

JOHNNY has gone for a soldier.” Hayden Owain moved closer to the door, careful not to let the tip of his cane hit the floor. He didn’t want whoever was singing on the front porch to know he was close by.

So far the weekend visit to his sister had consisted of one long tedious game of Ignore The Invalid.

He hated the way people reacted once they became aware of his presence. As though the sight of his limp and missing arm somehow offended them.

Pushing open the door, he paused at the sight of the young woman sitting on the porch swing, gently swaying back and forth, singing the words that pierced his heart with unwanted memories. “Stop!”

The swing’s motion halted and the singing trailed off. The woman turned and Hayden’s heart gave a jolt.

Dark hair surrounded a pretty face, with eyes the exact same shade as the navy linen dress she wore.

“I beg your pardon, sir. Was I disturbing you?”

Far more than this young female could understand.

Hayden pushed through the door, his cane sounding out a repeated click as it hit the wooden planks.

“The song is one I’d prefer never to hear while I have breath in my lungs and blood in my veins.” “You don’t like it?” It wasn’t the song he disliked, but what it represented. Four years of hate, war and starvation.

Perhaps this woman was too young to realise, or maybe her family had protected her from the harsh realities of that time.

But he remembered every single day.

“Women sang it when they waved their men off to war. My mother sang it on the day I left in sixty-two.”

“I see,” she said, dropping her gaze. “I have affection for the song because my grandmother used to sing it. I lived with her in England until she passed away, then I travelled to America to be with Mother.”

“I’m surprised your grandmother knew the song,” he said.

Clearly, this woman had no sense of what his country had endured over that period. A part of him envied her innocence.

She gave a playful smile. “I believe its origins are a mixture of Irish and English. I suspect your countrymen must have borrowed it at some point.”

Hayden leaned his hip against the iron porch rail.

“Why are you not out with the others?”

She tilted her head. “My mother insisted I join her this weekend, but I’ve no need for goods from town.”

“Your mother must be Catherine Harris,” he said. She nodded.

“I’m your hostess’s brother.”

He stiffened as her gaze moved over him. He imagined she saw a broken man with little to offer. “Which brother are you?” His laugh was bitter. “I’d have thought the cane and the lack of arm would have given you a clue. I’m sure someone’s mentioned the elder brother to you.”

“Oh, him,” she said, her eyes twinkling as they met his. “I just heard he was opinionated and awkward.”

This time his laugh was warm and genuine.

“So your English tongue is sharp, Miss . . .?”

“My name is Evelina, and yes, people do charge me with having such a thing. I like to believe it goes with my imaginative mind, though I am sure my mother would not agree with such a statement.”

“So the two of us are left behind while the others enjoy themselves.”

She frowned.

“I do not need people to find pleasure. The company of others often inflicts quite the opposite feeling. My mother knows this and suggested quite heavily that I remain at the house.” “I see.”

“And you?”

“My sister also deemed it an excursion I should miss. Apparently, I create a bad atmosphere her guests find hard to stomach.”

Evelina laughed and patted the seat next to her.

“As we are so unpalatable to others, why not join me?”

It had been so long since anyone had wanted to spend time with him that Hayden did as she asked without thought.

“I’m not very good company, am I?” he

asked a few minutes later.

The silence between them was interrupted only by the creak of the swing.

“Actually, I find you the perfect companion. You neither waffle nor complain. My mother, unfortunately, is inclined to do both.

“I do believe she is rather disappointed to find the daughter she abandoned for years is not her idea of a perfect escort.” Hayden shook his head. “I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“Unfortunately not.” She sighed. “I am sure she will get over her disappointment one day. So, why do you believe people consider you bad company?”

“I am the son who returned home half a man.”

“From what I can see, you have everything except your arm.”

“My leg is ruined, too.” “But you can still walk,” she pointed out. “Thankfully.”

“Then you are more than half a man. I suspect your biggest hindrance is perhaps inside yourself.”

He fixed his eyes on the landscape.

“Careful, or your sharp tongue will cause you grief.”

“I believe you are strong enough to endure its edge,” Evelina retorted. “Or even scuffle with it if you wish.” He glanced at her. “I’m not sure what to say, Miss Evelina from England.”

She smiled and restarted the swing.

“Well, you could start with your name.”

Hayden stopped fumbling in his jacket pocket and sat forward on the seat.

How could it be gone when he’d only slipped it in there a few minutes before stepping on to the porch?

He had found a silver Easter charm amongst some of his family’s belongings that his sister had shipped from their mother’s home after she died.

The crates had sat covered with cloths for several years in an unused bedroom, but now his sister wanted the space cleared and insisted he sort through them this weekend.

“Is something wrong?” Hayden turned to Evelina. “I seem to have misplaced a silver charm.” “A charm?”

“An Easter rabbit. The kind of thing you give to someone you love.” “You have a sweetheart?” Was that disappointment in her voice, or was he hoping for the impossible? Surely she understood he was nobody’s beau. Just a lonely man who made others uncomfortable.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he asked.

She shook her head, not meeting his gaze.

“When you mentioned the charm, I thought perhaps . . .”

“I’m sorry,” Hayden said, instantly ashamed.

This young woman had shown him kindness and made him laugh, and he repaid her with the curt side of his nature.

She dismissed his apology. “Where did you last have this missing charm?”

“It’s my sister’s,” he said, wanting to explain. “I found it in a crate. Her husband gave it to her. I thought she might like to keep it.” Evelina smiled.

“She will appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

“Perhaps,” he said, though his heart doubted it. His relationship with his family was strained.

“We must find the charm immediately,” Evelina declared, rising from the swing and offering her hand. “You must tell me where you last remember having it. I am sure we will find it in no time.”

Hayden stared at the dainty palm extended to him with no thought but to help him from the seat.

He reached for it before his pride rose to intervene and ruin this unexpected pleasant interlude in his normally cheerless day.

“We need to retrace your steps and –”

Hayden sighed as he struggled to keep pace with Evelina, the old familiar frustration returning.

“You are walking too fast for me.”

She stopped.

“Oh, Hayden. I am sorry.”

He immediately wanted to erase the concern and guilt on her face with his fingertips. To feel the softness of her skin beneath his touch and learn the lines of her sweet features.

He pushed the uninvited urge away and walked over to the front door.

“I carried it downstairs in my hand, and when I reached the hall I placed it in my jacket pocket.”

“Are you certain your pocket is empty?”

He opened the door and stepped back to allow her to enter first.

“Of course.”

“Then it must be here somewhere,” Evelina said, head bent as she scanned the hall’s wooden floor.

Together they searched the area, but neither found the missing silver rabbit.

Suddenly Evelina crouched and crawled over to the grandfather clock.

Hayden stopped hunting and stared at her. “Evelina?”

“The charm may have fallen under a piece of furniture and it’s easier for me to search,” she explained. “You are much stronger than I am, so if furnishings need to be lifted, you can do it.”

“I only have one arm,” he reminded her.

Evelina stood and reached for his arm, giving it a squeeze.

“But it is strong. More than capable of dealing with heavy furniture, I am sure.”

Hayden shook his head as she resumed the search. This woman made him feel as though he could do anything. As if she didn’t see his failings.

“Are you sure it isn’t in your pocket?” she asked from beneath the table. “Yes. I’ll check, but . . .” She stopped in front of him.

“May I? My grandmother always alleged that men had a habit of overlooking what is in front of them.”

“Was she often right?” he asked.

She slipped her fingers inside his pocket. “Always.”

“What are you doing?” They both jumped apart at the unexpected question. A group of people stood in the open doorway, staring at them.

“Nothing,” Hayden said, feeling like a child caught committing mischief.

Evelina giggled, making him want to join in.

When was the last time he’d laughed and enjoyed himself the way he was with this woman? Far too long ago, back in the untroubled days of his youth, before war cursed his life.

“Go to our room this instant.” Evelina’s mother grasped her daughter’s wrist. “I hoped you would be able to occupy yourself. I never suspected you might partake in behaviour such as this.”

“We have done nothing wrong,” Hayden defended, his eyes on Evelina. “Evelina is old enough to make her own choices, and she has agreed to join me on a stroll around the garden.”

“She has?” her mother queried, letting go of her daughter.

“Shall we?” Hadyen asked Evelina.

Evelina nodded and wrapped her arm around Hayden’s.

He turned to the others, enjoying the expressions of shock and surprise on their faces. He laughed when his sister winked at him.

Had her insistence that he remain at home been for more cunning reasons than she had given him?

“We could be gone all afternoon,” he told the group. “It will take us longer because of my leg.”

Walking out on to the back porch, Evelina held up her hand.

Hayden chuckled when he recognised the silver rabbit dangling from her fingers.

“One bunny no longer missing.”

“Thank you, Evelina.” She brought them to a stop before they descended the steps and slipped the charm into his other pocket.

“There must be a hole in the lining of your pocket. Next time you may not find what you are searching for so easily.”

“Funny,” he said, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. “I do believe I already have.”