LITMIR.BIZ

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of food. She spread the bounty before them. Henry asked a quick blessing before the two men dug in.

      Charles wiped his mouth with the napkin, casting a glance around at the neighboring tables. If he wasn’t mistaken, a few of them were inhabited by other men from the firm. Had the office emptied out after he and Henry departed? “What’s on the docket for tomorrow? I’m supposed to observe, but perhaps you can give me a few tips.”

      The corner of Henry’s mouth twisted upward. “You’re shadowing Spencer? Figures. Ever since he heard your uncle was bringing you on board, he’s tied his bow tie a bit too tight.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “He’s spent years trying to impress McKinley and McClintock. You’re a threat.”

      Charles’s stomach took a dive. “I never intended to walk in and upset everyone.”

      “You need to see the situation from Spencer’s perspective. He always expects the worst. Next thing you know, he’ll be standing on a street corner proclaiming the end of the world.”

      Charles shook his head. He’d gained an adversary, and he hadn’t even met the man. “Where was Spencer today? No one introduced me.”

      “He was in court all day. He’s got a big case with Sanborn Fire Insurance. You’ll get a sample tomorrow.” Henry wiped grease from his chin. “Not me. I never get out of the office. I’ll be shuffling papers until I die, I expect.”

      Charles pushed the potatoes around his plate. “If I move up as fast as Spencer fears, maybe I’ll be needing an assistant.”

      Henry’s eyes brightened. “Now you’re talking. I knew I liked you.” He squinted across the table. “So, that means you’re in charge of the check. Right?”

      Charles lifted his coffee cup. “See, I suspected you were clever.” He grabbed his fork and began spearing the cooked carrots. “Do you know anything about the King family?”

      Henry rubbed his ear. “I met the son—the doctor. He came in a while back, insisting to see Mr. McKinley. Your uncle wouldn’t give him the time of day. Something didn’t seem quite right. The rest of the morning, Mr. McKinley appeared out of sorts—anxious, even. You spoke with the widow?”

      “I did. It’s troubling. The numbers in the files don’t add up.” The niggling doubt burrowed in his thoughts. “I provided her with some options for the future. She accepted the news with dignity, but the daughter . . .” Charles shook his head. “What a firebrand.”

      “A pretty one?”

      A prickle raced across the back of his neck. “Yes, but not—I mean, she’s opinionated. And hotheaded.”

      “Sounds like fun. The kind to keep a man on his toes.”

      “Maybe for you.” Charles jammed his hand through his hair. “She’s moved to San Francisco, so there’s a chance she may appear at the office as well.”

      Henry chewed and swallowed. “Thanks for the warning. Mr. McKinley will be none too pleased.”

      “I don’t relish the thought, myself.” The idea of Miss King going toe to toe with his uncle sent a chill down Charles’s back. Perhaps he could send a message to the Mission and suggest a second meeting. At a neutral location, preferably. He glanced around the diner. Someplace a little finer than this.

      ***

      Elizabeth ran a quick hand over her wrinkled skirt, as she followed one of the students down the stairs toward Miss Cameron’s office. The girl’s slippers made the slightest scuffing sound on the treads, making Elizabeth feel like an elephant trailing a gazelle.

      The escort ushered her to the door, vanishing before Elizabeth could offer thanks.

      Miss Cameron jumped up from a chair, skirt swishing. “Miss King, I am so delighted you are here. I must apologize for not greeting you upon arrival. You’ve settled in, I hope?” Her beaming smile warmed the room.

      The knot in Elizabeth’s stomach uncoiled like a seedling reaching for the sunlight. “Yes, and the room is perfect, thank you.”

      The missionary laughed. “They’re small, I know. I’d hoped when the Mission Board rebuilt 920 they’d provide something homelike, but I’m afraid what they gave us is more like a giant dormitory. But my daughters are grateful to be home again. Two years is a long time to be transient, especially for such a large family.”

      Elizabeth’s heart lifted at Miss Cameron’s description of her young charges.

      Miss Cameron took Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her to a pair of blue mohair seats near the window. “Please, join me for tea. I remember how I felt my first day here. You must be overwhelmed.”

      Elizabeth sank into the chair. “A little, I’m afraid.”

      Miss Cameron lifted a white teapot marked with Chinese characters and guided a stream of liquid into two small cups. “I came from a loving home in the countryside and was woefully unprepared for what I faced my first day here.” Her Scottish accent colored her words. “Sometimes I think back on that naïve girl and wish I could tell her what grand adventures lay ahead. Much heartache, too, of course. I never imagined my life would turn out this way, but I followed God’s leading, and He’s taken me places I never anticipated.”

      Elizabeth wrapped her fingers around the warm cup. “You sound like my sister, Ruby. She speaks often of God’s plans and His will.”

      The light from the window glinted off the silver threads in the woman’s hair. “The deeper you involve yourself in His work, the more you’re aware of the actions of His hands.” She leaned forward, capturing Elizabeth’s gaze with her own. “What of you, my dear? Have you seen God’s fingerprints in your own life?”

      Elizabeth thought over her past. “My father was quite devout, but he passed away when I was young. I’ve tried hard to live a good life, pleasing to God. I . . .” A lump formed in her throat. How could she even say such a thing? “I fail often, I’m afraid.”

      “We all do, child. It’s a good thing He loves us, regardless.” She stood and retrieved a large, black ledger from the desk. “Each of His children is precious to Him, whether or not we make wise choices.” She returned to her seat and placed both hands on the leather cover. “Every time a new girl comes to 920, I record her story in this book—as many details as I know, anyhow. The tales can break one’s heart, as I’m sure they do our Heavenly Father’s.” She ran her fingers around the book’s worn edge. “But their old lives are behind them. When one of our daughters embraces Christ’s sacrifice, she becomes a new creation. Scripture tells us the old is gone, the new is come. Whether she comes as an innocent babe or from the most sordid brothel, from a privileged home or from the darkest opium den—each girl is made new through Christ.”

      Elizabeth brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face. A clean slate sounded too good to be true.

      Miss Cameron held out the book. “You might care to read up on your students’ histories. You’ll understand them better if you know from whence they came.”

      The tome felt heavy in her hand as if the weight of the past could pull her to the floor. “When do I begin teaching?”

      “In the morning, if you’re ready.”

      Elizabeth’s heart clambered toward her throat. “I can be.”

      Miss Cameron smiled. “I believe you’re going to be a wonderful addition, Elizabeth.” She paused. “May I call you Elizabeth? In front of the girls I’ll maintain formality, but I prefer to be on a first-name basis otherwise.”

      “Of course. And I should call you—”

      “Donaldina. I think we’ll be fine friends, and I can’t wait to see you in action. Now, are you hungry? I believe supper is about ready.”

      Elizabeth nodded, hoping

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