Cold All the Way Through, But Warming

Campbell's Return

The day of Rowan's arrival at my house was rather frustrating. Mr. Collins had shown up to help, but when Rowan had learned he would be sleeping right next to my own bedroom, he had balked. "It's not appropriate, ma'am."

Mr. Collins had rolled his eyes, "We all know nothing will happen, it's just until you save up enough to find your own place, like I did."

"But you're married sir," Rowan shifted, he had a tendency to hide his scarred side when talking. "People will talk if she has an unmarried man right next to her bedroom."

I held up a hand, stopping Mr. Collins before he could say anything. "Where would you propose to sleep then? The parlor? The kitchen? The office is really the only place that will work."

Rowan shook his head, "The workroom in your garage, I can shove the shelves up against a wall and we can move the cot down here." I had grumbled about the cold of the garage while Mr. Collins had complained about moving the cot. In the end it had taken both Rowan and Mr. Collins to wrestle the cot downstairs while I followed with a stack of blankets that should smother Rowan when he laid down to sleep.

He must have heard me muttering to myself while I was laying them out, because he had chuckled. "Mrs. Murdoch, I'll be more than happy here. I won't even tell you where I've slept before." He stretched his arms out, doing his best to give me a cheeky grin. "Compared to those places this is a palace."

I took in the work room, which smelled vaguely of grease. "Remind me to bring you to New York when all this is done. You can sleep in something closer to a palace then."

"Oh I would gladly take you up on that," Rowan chuckled, then grimaced. "I can't imagine your parents would be glad to see me come through the doors though."

"Mother would be glad to have you visit," I patted his arm. "She's written that she's glad I have people around me, she hates when I'm alone."

"I'd be glad to meet her." He grew quiet, reaching for his bag. "I should write my own mother about my change in circumstances."

I smiled slightly, "I'll have to find a desk to bring in here then, and get you plenty of paper."

He shrugged, pulling a box out of his bag. "My lap desk works fine, and I grabbed plenty of paper at the hospital."

"She could come and visit."

He started, the lap desk falling to the floor and the contents spilling out. "No!" He fell to his knees, scrambling for the wooden box. "No, no, I can't see her."

"Rowan," I knelt down to help collect the various pens and papers that had been strewn everywhere. "I'm not going to force you." It didn't take a genius to realize that Rowan more than likely didn't want his mother to see him in his current state.

He stilled, accepting the stationary I handed over. "They kept wanting me to, at the hospital. I told her I was alive, but that's it."

"I'm sure she's glad to know that." I stood, dusting of my skirt. "I know my mother was thrilled to hear that I had made it off the Lusitania, but I didn't tell her the details of it. Some things are best kept to ourselves."

He nodded, "Yes, they are."

"I'm headed back to the house, could I bring you anything?"

"I'll come in and look through the kitchen soon, I saw a tin of biscuits in there."

"You're welcome to them," I reached for the door knob. "However, you will be expected to take your meals in the house."

"So long as that girl you have working is as good with dinner as she was with those sandwiches, that won't be a hardship." He laughed as I left. I shook my head, reminding myself to give Kate a call and tell her that she had a fan. She was awfully busy, but she still made time to come by at least once a week.