Read Promise Me This for Free Online

questions, and Michael was glad to follow behind.

The moment Owen stepped into the boarding school kitchen, Annie pulled him to the table and sat him down across from her. Carefully she set a pot of steaming tea, her plate of warm orange-and-currant scones, and crocks of marmalade and Devonshire cream between them.
    “Cook said my first batch came out ‘rather like chimney bricks—’” Annie imitated the gruff lady, wagging her finger in Owen’s face—“and that they were ‘a waste of good ingredients, those.’”
    Owen burst into a fit of laughter. “Well, you’ve certainly put your brick-making days behind you, my lady.” He bit into the buttery warmth. “Mmm. The best I’ve ever tasted.”
    Annie smiled, and her pink cheeks dimpled. “Well, Cook helped me some with the second batch.” Once she understood that I was baking them for the “handsome rose gardener,” she couldn’t bring the butter and sugar out fast enough.
    Owen winked. “God bless her, then.”
    “What did you say is his name, Owen?” Annie poured milk for her brother’s tea. She didn’t know whether to be pleased that Owen had finished work early the night before and had more time for her or to be annoyed that all he could speak of was some new boy who had helped him all day in the town hall gardens.
    “He says his name is Tim—Tim Delaney.” Owen hesitated. “But I don’t believe him.”
    “Why should he lie about such a thing?” And why would you bother with such a boy?
    Owen furrowed his brow. “I don’t know, really. I’m thinking he’s run away.” He pushed his chair from the table. “All I know for certain is that I called him by name a couple of times . . . and he never even looked up. Makes me think Tim is not likely his name.”
    “Maybe he’s deaf or simply not paying attention.”
    Owen looked at her. “That sounds like something Aunt Eleanor would say.”
    She colored. She was tempted to “harrumph” him but realized that, too, was something Aunt Eleanor would do. The thought made her shudder.
    “Now, I didn’t mean that so unkindly as it sounds, Annie. It’s just that we should do all we can for this boy while we’re able. You’ll feel the same once you meet him.”
    “But you’re leaving in a few days, Owen. We need our time together. And what good will a week’s worth of work do him? He needs a steady job, doesn’t he? You cannot supply that.”
    “I’ll see if Bealing’s can use him, once we’ve finished the town hall gardens. With the coal strike over, they’ll have steady work again supplying the liners with potted plants and fresh flowers. And spring brings more outdoor work in the fields.” Owen rapped the table. “I’ll speak with Mr. Bealing today. I think they’ll take him on.”
    He crammed the last of his scone into his mouth and stood, pulling his coat over his shirtsleeves. “I’ll bring him round before services tomorrow morning so you can meet him. He can join us for Easter Day.”
    “But, Owen, he’s a stranger—and these are our last holy days together!” Annie could not escape the desperation in her voice any more than she could stop the passing of the days. He acts as though he sees neither.
    He bent to kiss her cheek and slapped his cap atop his head, all in one quick motion.
    She turned her face away.
    “That he is—a stranger—and we took him in.” Owen playfully pinched her cheek, winked, and walked through the door into the morning. “Be ready by nine!” he called over his shoulder. “We’ll come round for you, love!”
    Annie slammed the kitchen door behind him and threw her carefully ironed apron to the table. He’ll be laughing all the way to the town hall!

    “Well, I’m not sorry he didn’t come, Owen.” Annie tucked her arm through Owen’s as they strolled along the quay. “It may be selfish and wicked of me, but I’m glad to have you to myself this Easter Sunday.” Annie saw that her confession grieved Owen. She stopped and