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Broken Butterfly Page 3


  It had all happened so fast. Nancy had offered her a real job. What if no one liked her? What if Nancy changed her mind? No, she couldn’t allow the years of lies pounded into her to take control. She had been given a new start—a new life. With this thought, she allowed the comfortable bed to lull her into a dream of paradise.

  Soft music played through the bedside radio and Mallory squeezed her lids tighter. The thick comforter tucked around her and the firm mattress reminded her she was no longer in Charlotte. Her hammering heart picked up speed and she opened her eyes, allowing them to adjust to her surroundings.

  Burgundy curtains cascaded against the soft, yellow walls. Birdsong beckoned Mallory to the bedroom windows. She adjusted the thick wooden blinds, and streams of sunlight danced through the room. The brightness a contrast to the darkness she’d grown to anticipate.

  A horse and buggy trotted down the main road. She inhaled. Was this place real?

  Mallory reached for a comb and brushed through her tangled hair. Slipping from her fingers, it clattered to the rug beneath her feet. She took a moment to calm herself before retrieving it from the floor—the new, clean floor, not broken, dirty tiles.

  After one last glance in the mirror, Mallory tiptoed from the bedroom and found Nancy standing by the kitchen table. The strong aroma of cinnamon and coffee stirred her undeniable hunger.

  Nancy moved toward the stove. “Good morning. I have cinnamon rolls and sliced cantaloupe for breakfast.”

  Mallory chose a corner to wait as she scanned the kitchen. Sunlight streamed through sheer, white curtains and bounced off the black counters.

  Nancy had changed into slacks and a bright, blue shirt, her hair in a neat bun. Mallory took a few steps forward when Nancy returned to the table and set the tray of fruit and rolls in the center. “Won’t you have a seat?”

  Mallory smoothed a hand over her wrinkled shirt and then pulled at her short shorts—the only pair she had.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you so much. I saw a horse and buggy, but I must …” she shook her head. She’d read all about the Amish community, but never expected to witness the realness she’d stumbled into only a day ago.

  “That was an Amish buggy. We’re in Amish Country.”

  “Amish?” The word fell awkwardly from her mouth. It wasn’t easy pretending—not to this nice lady working so hard to make her comfortable.

  “They’re a plain group of people. Because of their religious beliefs, they don’t use modern conveniences like we do. Maybe you’ll get to meet some of the families. They’re a compassionate group of people.”

  “Oh.” The thought of being born into a different family, of having a normal family who cared for her, who hadn’t thrown her away like an old rag doll. What would it feel like to have someone love her, to have anyone love her?

  “We’ll head to the main house after breakfast.” Nancy poured Mallory a cup of coffee. “I read my Bible every morning. If you don’t mind, since you’re here with me, I’d like to read out loud.”

  Mallory nodded, not sure what to say. She took a sip of the warm, dark beverage, working to keep her hands steady.

  Nancy opened her Bible, and her smile deepened as she read. At first Mallory couldn’t make sense of it, but as she listened, she became interested in the story. The man was robbed, beaten, and left for dead. People passed by, but no one stopped. They crossed on the other side keeping their distance. Until one man, a Samaritan, took pity on him and cared for his wounds. Then he placed him on his donkey. He took him to an inn and told the innkeeper he would pay for all the man’s expenses. She felt a connection to the poor man.

  No one had ever helped her, until now.

  As Nancy finished and closed the book, Mallory’s eyes burned. A feeling so foreign, a feeling she thought long dead, rose within. She had to say something … anything to replace her thoughts, or she would cry. Mallory concentrated on the cinnamon glaze streaked across her plate.

  “I, uh, don’t have anything better than this to wear.” She glanced at her worn jean shorts.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of that soon enough. You’ll be fine for today.”

  She didn’t look fine, but she had nothing else.

  At seven, they crossed the yard. A slight breeze carried across the manicured lawn, the dark green stunning against the morning sun. Mallory’s stomach rolled as she studied the mansion before them.

  What if Nancy’s cousin looked down on her like so many others did?

  A narrow, cobblestone walkway, lined with tulips, curved toward the back. She took slow strides, studying each one. When they reached the back door, she grabbed Nancy’s arm.

  “It’s okay, you’ll be fine.” Nancy glowed with assurance, her voice full of confidence.

  If only I felt that way.

  Mallory followed her into a large kitchen, larger than the whole apartment they’d stayed in last night. Silver appliances filled the space. The counters were long and shiny, not a utensil out of place. A tall man and much shorter woman looked up from their workstations. Flour covered their aprons. What was she doing here? She would never belong.

  Nancy smiled. “Mallory, these are the head cooks, Marla and Sebastian. Marla, Sebastian, this is Mallory.”

  Licking her dry lips, Mallory attempted a smile.

  “Welcome,” Sebastian said.

  Marla smiled and Mallory took her outstretched hand. “It’s so nice to have you with us.” Marla’s Spanish accent flowed through her full lips like music.

  “Thank you.”

  “Do you like to cook, Miss Mallory?” Sebastian pressed his fingers in and out of the flour.

  His question startled her and without thinking, she answered, “I haven’t cooked a whole lot.”

  “You leave it to me, Miss Mallory. You’ll be cooking within the week.”

  Warmth spread through her at Sebastian’s friendly gesture.

  “I’m going to show her the rest of the house.” Nancy led her through the dining room and around the table in the center. Mallory admired the large display of red and white roses standing in a glass vase in the center of the table. Two doors opened into a vast entryway, and Nancy walked through the foyer. Mallory followed close behind.

  “Nancy,” a man called from the top of the stairs. He hurried toward them, his dark suit free of wrinkles.

  His mustache held the same hint of silver as his hair and twitched under the sudden movement of his lips. “And who is this pretty young lady?”

  Heat rushed to her face.

  “This is Mallory. I brought her along to help.”

  “I’m Robert Chamberlain.” He took her hand into both of his and patted it gently. “Well, Mallory, it’s an absolute honor to meet you.” He released her and turned his attention to Nancy. “When did you ladies arrive?”

  Their words faded as Mallory admired the surroundings. They stood in the front entryway on marbled tile that sparkled clear as glass. She followed the winding staircase. Every object, every decoration was perfectly placed.

  Excitement of having a job, of being given a new start, had buried all her fears. Until now. She swallowed hard as she glanced at her disheveled clothes, comparing them to Nancy’s bright, clean outfit, to Mr. Chamberlain’s pressed suit. If only she had that trench coat now. It would cover every inch of her bare skin, every inch of her shame.

  The man’s voice deepened. “Have you done this kind of work before, Mallory?”

  Her stomach dropped, and she watched him, speechless.

  “I’m certain she’s a fast learner and together we’ll be able to handle your needs.”

  He grinned. “Well, of course. I’m sure you will, Mallory. I’ll let you ladies get started. Nancy, give her the grand tour. It’s wonderful having you back. Things weren’t the same without you, my dear cousin.” He t
urned to leave and disappeared behind a door to their right.

  A deep sigh escaped her throat. He wasn’t sending her away.

  She counted twelve large bedrooms before Nancy escorted Mallory outside into the flower garden. Taking a deep breath, Mallory grasped for one moment of normalcy. But, with each moment, anything she had ever considered normal faded into one big maze of fantasy.

  A young man worked as they admired the flowers, and she caught his curious glances. He stood when they approached.

  Nancy embraced him. “Hi, Andrew. This is Mallory. She’ll be working with us.” His dark, green eyes flashed in Mallory’s direction. “This is Andrew.”

  She chewed her lower lip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” He removed his gloves and wiped his hands against his worn jeans, before offering his hand. Mallory fixed a smile on her face, and his tense shoulders dropped slightly.

  Andrew took them on a tour of the garden. An array of yellow, white, and pink wildflowers sprinkled through the walkway caught her eye. A blue dragonfly spun around, landing in their midst. Studying the magnificent of its colors, her mind drifted to another time—days that had grown hazy with every passing year. She shook her head to clear the painful memory and moved a few steps forward.

  Mallory bent, inhaling the sweet aroma. “The purple asters and white chrysanthemums are so pretty surrounded by the buttercups.”

  Andrew moved into the place next to her. “You seem to know your flowers.”

  Her cheeks burned, realizing she’d spoken her thoughts. “I love flowers. I always have.”

  “Your tattoo—it’s really cool. I love the way the dragonfly hovers over the butterfly like it’s protecting her.”

  She reached toward her ankle on instinct and then jerked away as the haunting memory stung at her touch. Meeting his curious gaze, she tried to give a genuine smile, but her brain and mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Instead she looked away, unable to respond.

  Rounded brick steps led them onto the front porch. She wanted to spend more time studying each flower, but the moment was ruined.

  When they returned to the kitchen, Nancy handed her a daily task sheet. Each section of the house was separated into corridors. Today she would be trained on the east wing. Her list of chores included: dusting, changing bed linens, and all upstairs baths. The lady of the house would check it at the end of each week. Mallory hadn’t met her yet and wasn’t sure she was here this morning.

  At twelve, Nancy led Mallory back to the kitchen and they sat at a small, breakfast nook. Marla placed a tray on the table filled with a variety of sandwiches, chips, cookies, and glasses bubbling with dark soda. “I wasn’t sure what kind of sandwiches you’d prefer, so we made an assortment.”

  Mallory examined the small woman, tenderness claiming her thoughts. “You didn’t have to do that. Anything you prepare is wonderful I’m sure. Thank you so much.”

  Sebastian took a step forward. “We wanted to make your first day here special.”

  Mallory smiled because it was the normal thing to do, but every other member of her body wept with an unfamiliar joy. “I’m so happy to be here. I can’t thank you enough.”

  After lunch, Mallory slipped through the kitchen and resumed the tasks printed on the chore list, her thoughts returning reluctantly to her past with each glance at her ankle.

  The grandfather clock chimed the hour at five as an unfamiliar, female voice echoed from below.

  “Robert Chamberlain, what’s going on here?”

  Mallory made eye contact with the woman dressed in a shimmering, white blouse and black pants. As their eyes met, the woman’s nose crinkled. Her jaw tightened at the same time her lips wrinkled with disgust.

  “If you’ll excuse me?” In Mallory’s haste to escape, she turned and fled up the few stairs, avoiding the lady’s steely eyes.

  “Charlotte. How nice to see you! Allow me to introduce you.” Nancy caught Mallory’s arm and led her back down the stairs. “This is my new, maid assistant. Mallory, this is Charlotte Chamberlain.”

  The day had been perfect until now as she faced the sister of the nice man she’d met this morning—the lady of the house.

  Four

  Mallory exhaled when the woman turned her attention to her brother.

  Every line of the older woman’s face crinkled. “You hired … this?”

  “Charlotte.” A disapproving tone rang through Mr. Chamberlain’s voice.

  Heat rushed to Mallory’s face as she glanced at Mr. Chamberlain and quickly looked away.

  Mr. Chamberlain cleared his throat. “What’s the problem?”

  Mallory stuffed her sweaty hands in her apron pockets. This was about her? Nancy had seemed pleased with her work.

  Ms. Chamberlain nodded toward Mallory. “Well, look at her. What if we have unexpected guests? She isn’t fit …”

  “Could you please excuse us, ladies?” Mr. Chamberlain grabbed the lady by her arm and led her into the library.

  Nancy guided Mallory through the hallway, and she didn’t hear their exchange, but recognized the undeniable anger in Mr. Chamberlain’s voice. Mallory was crushed. She had enjoyed the chores assigned to her. She hated to leave now before finding out if she still had a job, but didn’t want to face that woman again.

  Nancy slipped her jacket on and grabbed her bag.”She’s probably upset no one told her about you.” Nancy led Mallory toward the car. “We’re going into town.”

  Pervading thoughts of Ms. Chamberlain’s disapproval droned through her mind. What if she talked Mr. Chamberlain into letting her go?

  She rested her arm on the door. The blurring fields of pasture suggested endless days of walking if she had to leave. Where would she go? She had nothing—she had no one.

  “We’re going to buy some uniforms.”

  Mallory turned her attention toward the older woman. The one ounce of hope Nancy offered gave her relief. “Uniforms?”

  “Yes. That should make you feel more comfortable and make Charlotte happy.”

  How much would they cost? The five dollar bill crumpled in her shorts couldn’t be enough.

  Five minutes later, Nancy parked at a small shopping center. “They have the perfect little shop here.” Nancy kept her tone light as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  Mallory fidgeted in her seat. “I don’t have enough to buy a uniform.” She wanted this job more than she’d wanted anything in a long time.

  “Mr. Chamberlain provides those for his employees.”

  Swallowing the fear rising up her throat, Mallory relaxed her fingers gripping the seat. “Do you think that will help? The uniforms I mean.”

  “Don’t worry about Charlotte.” Nancy reached across and patted Mallory’s leg. “Mr. Chamberlain’s good to everyone, but I’ve never seen him take to anyone as quickly as he has you.”

  Mallory’s defenses crumbled as she followed Nancy inside the store. It normally didn’t bother her when people treated her the way Ms. Chamberlain had. But today, it was different. She wanted to be liked, to be wanted.

  Nancy sorted through a spinning rack. “What size do you wear?”

  Her frazzled shirt hung loose against her skin. “This is a small.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” Nancy took a shirt from the hook and held it against Mallory’s back. “This looks about right. Why don’t you try one on to make sure it fits?”

  Stepping into the changing room, Mallory held the material against her worn t-shirt. After a moment, she changed into the top and pants. She scrutinized her reflection, her black, thick hair falling across her shoulders.

  What did I do to deserve this?

  She slipped the uniform off, changed back into her clothes, and opened the dressing room door.

  “Did it feel comfortable?”

  Mallory recalled the so
ft fabric against her skin. “It fit perfect.”

  “Great! Let’s check out.”

  Nancy grabbed an assortment of colored shirts and five pairs of black pants and moved toward the register.

  “Wait. All of those aren’t for me, are they?”

  Nancy’s boisterous laugh filled the small space between them. “Of course. I can’t fit into these little things.”

  “Shouldn’t I only get one?”

  “There’s no need to add more work to our load.” Nancy pushed the cart forward. “We’ll do our personal wash at the end of the week.”

  Mallory frowned. “You really shouldn’t do this.” It would be a waste of money if she didn’t keep the job.

  “That’s nonsense. You’re working for Mr. Chamberlain now. He gave strict instructions to purchase whatever you need. You’re going to need a few more things. You won’t be working on the weekends and will need something casual to wear.”

  They browsed through several stores, and Mallory soaked in the experience of going from shop to shop admiring the new fashion she’d seen every day people wear. But she wasn’t an everyday person.

  “This would look adorable on you.” Nancy held up a sequined, navy top.

  “I’ve never had anything so nice.” She heard the words coming from her mouth, but she hadn’t meant to voice them.

  “Well, I believe God loves it when his children receive surprises. And I can’t wait to see you in this.”

  Mallory’s lips trembled against the full smile wanting to escape. “Thank you for all of this. I don’t know what to say.”

  Only one thought filled Mallory’s mind as Nancy drove back to the apartment. How would she ever be able to repay Nancy or Mr. Chamberlain for their kindness?

  Later that evening, Mallory sat among the new things sprawled across her bed. Shower gel, shampoo, a hair brush, and an assortment of makeup. After placing all the accessories in the bathroom, she hung up the uniforms and outfits Nancy insisted on purchasing.

  Thank you.

  The two words filled her mind as she climbed into bed and settled onto the soft pillow. Nancy’s words of God’s surprises settled into her soul like a fresh, summer breeze.