Collision of The Heart Read Free

into town yet. She must get these children and their mother to the Goswell sleigh. She had to find that toddler’s people. Once she accomplished those tasks, she could find transportation into Hillsdale.
    Plan made, she continued to tramp through the snow. Her feet felt like the packed-down stuff, heavy, solid, immovable. She didn’t want to see Mr. Goswell any more than she wanted to see Ayden again. He had been a father to her, more so than her own parent, who had disappeared in pursuit of nameless dreams only to return when those dreams faded or grew dull, until he disappeared permanently. Her father’s last words to her had been “I’ll be back.” Mr. Goswell’s last words had been “I’m so disappointed in the two of you that it hurts.”
    Her response was nothing she was proud to recall, and a fresh wave of guilt stabbed her as he loomed before her. Unlike Ayden’s hair, Mr. Goswell’s hair was gray rather than mahogany brown, but his eyes were still as blue and his smile as warm as his son’s. “Euphemia Roper, what a sight for sore eyes. I knew you’d be back.”
    “I’m not returning. This is a brief stop for business purposes.” She kept her tone neutral. “Right now, Ayden sent me over with this family.”
    Mr. Goswell squeezed her shoulder. “Good. You’ll stay with us.”
    “No, I—”
    “I have that little one tucked up until we find his people. And whom do we have here?”
    “Some passengers who don’t have a place to stay in Hillsdale.”
    “Yes, they do—with us.” Mr. Goswell crouched to be eye-to-eye with the children. “Would you like to come to our house for soup and biscuits?”
    The children stood in silence, turning into little snowmen beneath the tumbling flakes.
    “I . . . I don’t have much money,” the mother protested.
    “They won’t want money.” Euphemia touched the woman’s arm. “I know the Goswells. They have lots of room and will feed you until you cry for mercy.”
    Kind, generous, godly—all words to describe the Goswell family. She should want to stay with them. She shouldn’t have left them behind. She hadn’t wanted to leave them behind, not permanently. She and Ayden were supposed to return to Hillsdale for holidays, but Ayden chose to stay instead of choosing to love her.
    She shook off the hurt like snow accumulating on her coat and held out her hand to draw the woman forward. “Is Mrs. Goswell in the kitchen already?”
    “The minute we heard the wreck.” Mr. Goswell returned his attention to the children. “Would you like a sleigh ride?”
    The children nodded. Their mother made protesting noises in her throat.
    Mr. Goswell glanced up at Euphemia. “Will, uh, you stay to help me with these little ones?”
    “I need to look for the baby’s mother or whoever should have been in charge of him.” Euphemia stepped back. Her foot sank into a pile of soft snow, and the crystallized wetness tumbled over the top of her boot to soak her stocking and freeze her foot. “Perhaps this lady can help.”
    Mr. Goswell rested his hand on Euphemia’s shoulder. “She already has her own two, and you shouldn’t be charging off on your own through this crowd at night. It’s not safe.”
    “I’ve been in worse,” Euphemia said.
    “I’m happy to see to the little one to pay my way,” the woman said.
    “There’s no need,” Mr. Goswell began.
    “That’s an excellent idea.” Euphemia recognized the woman’s need to contribute to spare her pride. “If you go to the Goswells’ house, I’ll know where to find you when I find the baby’s people.” Without further ado, she yanked her foot from the snowdrift and headed toward the train, the worst of the crowd and the blazing fire creeping back from the engine.
    “I’ll be back to fetch you,” Mr. Goswell shouted after her, but she continued without glancing behind her.
    The going grew rougher with each step. Snow clung to her skirt and petticoats, weighing them down. More snow