Ivy searched her memory. The description seemed familiar. While vague, something pricked in the back of her mind, as if she had known the woman in the past.
“Were there any other identifiers?” Joel’s interrogation turned the annoyed glint in Mr. Casey’s eye to outright frustration.
“No!” He slammed his palms on the desk. An exasperated snort escaped him. “I did not make a sketch of her either. I wasn’t expecting it to be of such interest that a wanted poster would be required.”
“Why are you so defensive, Mr. Casey?” Joel’s knee bounced beneath Ivy’s hand again, and his fingers gripped hers painfully.
“Because, my boy,” Mr. Casey said, shoving his chair back and rising to his feet, “you have been assertive and nosy since you were a lad. I wearied of you then and am still weary of you now.”
“Are you hiding something?” Ivy interrupted, hoping to spare Joel the verbal knives Mr. Casey threw at him.
“Of course not,” the director sputtered. “Except for a complete dislike of Joel Cunningham. And in answer to your other question, and in hopes that it will satiate your curiosity and end these confounded inquiries, I did give you your surname. Actually, Nurse Josephine requested you bear her name. She’d wanted to adopt you, but as an unmarried woman it was simply not possible.”
Joel’s face paled. His jaw worked back and forth. Ivy’s fingers hurt within his iron grasp.
“Nurse Josephine was the only one here who ever cared for me.”
Ivy’s breath caught. Someone had once wanted Joel and been denied. He had been refused a family, a home, a mother.
Mr. Casey made pretense of stacking paper work. “Well, we aren’t an institution of affection. We’re an institution of necessity within proper reason.”
“You’re called a home,” Ivy said. She couldn’t help but insert herself again. The old feelings of defensiveness for Joel rose up inside her. That young man who threw pebbles at her window, who had made her laugh, and who went on grand adventures with her.
“Home is a figurative word, Miss Thorpe, for house.”
Joel stood, pulling Ivy up with him. “Mr. Casey, I would like to see the babe.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
Mr. Casey stalked past them and yanked his office door open, a clear invitation to leave. “Because you severed all ties here when you left our good graces, Mr. Cunningham.”
Joel sniffed in disdain as he met Mr. Casey at the door. Ivy followed, glad to have retrieved her hand back from Joel’s desperate grip. The two men stood nose to nose. Joel’s mouth was set in a tight line, contempt exuding from his glare.
“You severed my ties here when you loaded me on the train and shipped me off to Chicago to fend for myself with only five dollars to my name and not a soul to greet me.”
Ivy froze. Mr. Casey had sent Joel away?
A vein throbbed in Mr. Casey’s neck. “You were of age.”
“My best friend had just drowned in an icy lake.” Joel’s voice lowered into a deep growl. Ivy looked between the men, pieces she’d not invited Joel to share falling into place. Mr. Casey sent Joel away! A chilling realization spread through her.
“Perhaps your friend wouldn’t have drowned in that lake had you obeyed the rules of the house and not led the boy on your ridiculous, adolescent escapades.”
Joel grabbed the director’s coat lapels and pulled him forward. “How dare you,” he growled.
“Joel!” Ivy put a restraining hand on Joel’s arm.
“You were nothing but a troubled young man with a frank disregard for the rules,” Mr. Casey continued, his face turning red. “When I discovered that you were sneaking from the house day and night, you left me with no choice but to be rid of you.”
Ivy’s hand slipped from Joel’s arm. Joel had just said it, but now, hearing it from Mr. Casey, it seemed so much more irrefutable. Joel had been sent away. Under the worst circumstances imaginable. And she’d accused him of even worse.
Mr. Casey snarled in Joel’s face, Joel’s grip on the man’s shirtfront still firm. “I don’t know why you returned to Oakwood.”
Ivy stared in disbelief at the director, the man who had sent Joel away in his most desperate moment. The man who had only just now proven that Joel had not made excuses to justify his absence that night at the grave. He had never intended to betray her, nor had he deserted her.
Joel gave the man a shove and released him. “I don’t know why you run a home for orphans when you have the empathy of an ogre.”
With a tug on his coat, Joel straightened it. “I will return to see the babe, and I will bring the sheriff with me so you cannot deny me that right.”
Mr. Casey glowered at him. “I don’t know why this girl is important anyway. It’s not as if she’s worth anything to you.”
Ivy never felt such satisfaction as when Joel’s knuckles rammed into the man’s nose.
Chapter 29
Kaine
Kaine stood in the bedroom doorway and stared at the pink-carnation-colored walls of Megan’s bedroom.
“You’re welcome to stay here until this whole kerfuffle is sorted out.” Joy’s musical lilt drifted down the hall. Kaine turned and almost slammed into Grant, who’d snuck up behind her. Joy peeked over his shoulder, her red-lipped smile inviting. Grant’s brows were bent with concern.
“Thank you.” Kaine took the extra blanket Joy had shoved over Grant’s shoulder. “But I really would be fine at the motel.” Not really. She had no desire to spend another night alone ever.
“No.” The rebuttal was in unison. Joy’s smile dislocated to a half slouch on her face. Grant scowled and speared her with a hazel glare.
Kaine caught Grant’s eyes. The warmth in them tripped down into her soul. Safe. He was safe. But he didn’t live with Joy. “I’m scared I’ll endanger you and Megan.” She directed her words to Joy.
Joy squeezed past Grant through the doorway and went over to the twin bed that matched Megan’s on the opposite side of the room. Gaudy and bold flowers decorated the pillowcase Joy fluffed up as she attempted to reassure Kaine. “You belong here until everything gets figured out.”
“Or you could stay at my place.” Grant offered her a wink that made warmth seep into Kaine’s face. There, right there. That was the reason she shouldn’t stay with Grant. She had a weakness for the man, who counseled the grieving and had seen inside her the instant they collided at the gas station. She didn’t want her weakness to lead to temptation.
Joy tossed a pillow back at Grant. “Stay on my couch. We’ll all sleep better having a man around. And bring your dog. Besides, you won’t have to lie awake texting Kaine every five seconds to see if she’s all right. The girl won’t get a wink of sleep.”