Collision of The Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

again, Rosalie would lend her warm and comfortable garments in which to sleep. Ayden no longer assisted at the church and would be present at his home. On the other hand, the Goswell household seemed so crowded with stranded passengers that she should surely be able to avoid him.
    The notion of comfort won in the end, and she headed down the street. Despite a new moon and the predawn hour, the lanterns hung outside houses and the glow of the snow lit her way along a route she knew well, a mere three blocks from the church.
    In the night, the house looked the same—square and solid. Wood smoke scented the air around it, and a dog barked from beyond the front door.
    Euphemia skirted the house to knock on the kitchen door. Ayden was less likely to be in the kitchen than the front parlor or study.
    She was wrong. He opened the door.
    “Mia.” He jerked back a step. “I didn’t think we’d see you again.”
    “I apologize. It wasn’t my intention.” She avoided looking at his deep-blue eyes, so warm in the cold night. “I gave up my place in the boardinghouse to a governess and her charge.”
    “You would.” His voice held a tender note that brought tears to Euphemia’s eyes.
    She was tired was all, worn to a thread from the travel and the wreck and her aching wrist.
    “You know you’re welcome here.” He waved to a brightly lit kitchen smelling of coffee and bread. “Come in.”
    Euphemia entered. Not until she pushed back her hood and shoved clumps of frozen hair out of her face did she notice the blonde seated at the table, peeling potatoes. She stood, revealing a trim figure in a merino dress over what had to be a crinoline to appear so crisp at that hour and a chignon without a hair out of place.
    “This is Charmaine Finney,” Ayden said. “A friend.”
    “You’re a very good friend to be here helping in the middle of the night,” Euphemia responded. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Finney.” She pulled off her glove and held out her hand.
    Miss Finney touched her fingertips. “When I heard how many people the Goswells had taken in, I just had to come and help. Father wouldn’t have anyone in our house, I’m sad to say. He fears Mother’s silver will disappear.”
    “Charmaine’s father is now director of the Classics Department,” Ayden said, as he closed the door.
    What he didn’t need to say was that the lovely lady’s father was his director at the college.
    “I remember Dr. Finney.” Euphemia smiled at Ayden with the first genuine warmth she’d managed all night. She could afford to be friendly with him. “You should have told me you were taken. I wouldn’t have worried about your parents trying to matchmake us.”
    “No, you shouldn’t have to.” His tone was brusque. “Let me find Momma and Rosalie. I think they’re in the attic, digging up clothes for the children.” He bolted from the kitchen like a schoolboy about to be caught in a naughty deed.
    Euphemia raised her eyebrows. “I think I’ll get myself some coffee and steam dry by the stove here, if you won’t be inconvenienced by it.” She removed her cloak and hung it on a hook by the door, beside several other wraps.
    “Of course you will not inconvenience me. May I ladle you out some soup?”
    “I think I am too weary to eat anything.” Euphemia’s head spun.
    Miss Finney resumed peeling potatoes. “Do you know where to find cups, or should I help you?”
    “I know where the cups are, if nothing’s changed.” Without releasing her left-armed hold on her writing case, Euphemia selected a thick mug from a cupboard and lifted the pot from the back of the stove.
    The brew streamed into the cup, as thick and dark as oil. No doubt, the Goswells kept milk in the cellar this time of year, and she could fetch some to dilute the coffee, but she didn’t bother. She needed the stimulating brew to keep her wits about her now that she stood in the Goswell home, now that she stood face-to-face with the new lady in Ayden’s