The creak of a door swinging open caused her to turn. A slender man with a shaggy beard, unkempt hair, and round spectacles peered at them. The slow blink of his owlish eyes made her wonder if he ever left his house.
“Are you the fundraisers from New York?”
“We are,” Finn said, turning toward the man.
Mr. Galloway nodded and beckoned them inside.
As charming as the cottage appeared on the outside, the interior was dark and claustrophobic. Overflowing bookshelves covered the walls and blocked the windows. Stacks of books took up much of the floor space as well, along with open crates brimming over with newspapers and magazines. The parlor had a sofa and two chairs, but they too were mounded with books. Only a single wooden chair with an old cushion on it was available.
The mustiness inside the cottage’s main room made Delia sneeze.
“There’s not much room here for us to sit,” Mr. Galloway pointed out. “Come into the kitchen. We can talk there.”
Delia held her skirts while navigating through an alley of books. She hoped Mr. Galloway wouldn’t offer them anything to eat or drink. The coating of dust everywhere was triggering another sneeze, and consuming anything in this house could be a health hazard.
The kitchen wasn’t much better. Clutter covered the counters and dining table, but at least the chairs were empty. The stove was cold, and when Mr. Galloway offered to light it to offer them tea, Finn came to her rescue.
“We wouldn’t want to put you out,” he said. “We’re simply grateful for your time.”
Delia took an offered chair and held her briefcase on her lap like a shield. Eccentric men could be generous too, and she had all the paperwork necessary to secure a sizable donation from Mr. Galloway should he agree to it.
The man seemed pleasant enough, listening to Finn’s story with sympathy. When he got to the part about how Bertie needed three million dollars to keep the CRB in operation, Delia stepped in to describe how most donors structured their contributions.
“Some provide a large lump sum, while others prefer to contribute monthly. Both are appreciated.”
“Of course I would like to help,” Mr. Galloway said, a smile softening his face for the first time. “How does fifty dollars sound?”
She blinked. “A month?”
“Heavens, no. I couldn’t afford that. But I can’t bear the thought of those children going hungry during the cold winter months, and I’m more than happy to help as best I can.”
They left ten minutes later with fifty dollars in her pocket, the total of Mr. Galloway’s donation.
If possible, the weather had grown even worse during the ride back to town. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it hadn’t taken all day to get there,” she said, turning to Finn.
He seemed remarkably placid. “We win some, and we lose some. At least the fifty dollars will cover the cost of our transportation today.”
She burrowed deeper into her cloak as another gust of wind buffeted them. It snaked its way around her neck and triggered a round of shivers.
Finn drew the horse to a halt before the livery and climbed down from the buggy. He then moved to help her down.
“How come you don’t look cold?” she asked. She could barely stand on her numb feet.
“I’m used to it,” he replied, unwinding the scarf from his neck to drape it around hers. It was still warm from his body, and she enjoyed the way he fussed with the ends, tucking them snuggly beneath the folds of her cloak. “Now let’s go get a cup of something hot before we catch the train.”
Delia glanced up and down the quaint street. It lay deserted, its shuttered shops and empty boardwalks wrapped in the stillness of February, as if the town itself had fallen into hibernation after the tourists had left. “Is anything open?” she asked.
“I saw a place a couple of blocks down, and we’ve got plenty of time before the train. Let’s go.”
She tucked her hand inside his pocket as they hurried down the street in the sleet, which was now turning to rain. Now that she was moving, she didn’t feel quite so cold, but she still kept a hand cupped around her eyes to keep out the rain.
She was breathless by the time they arrived at the end of the street. Finn held the door of a shop, and she slipped inside, grateful for the warmth. The scent of coffee was a balm to her soul. She used a handkerchief to wipe the rainwater from her face and hair, then swiped at the shoulders of her cloak. Then she looked up and saw a world of color.
Kites!
Her briefcase landed on the floor with a thud as she stared in wonder. Kites were everywhere, displayed on the walls, danglingoverhead from the rafters. The walls and ceiling were painted sky-blue, just like they always imagined. A kaleidoscope of colors filled the shop, ranging from simple diamond kites to vibrantly painted Chinese dragons, the tails curled around to drape over the display aisles. Other kites resembled parrots with their wings stretched in flight or swans with long necks and arching wings supported by wires.
Finn watched her take in the shop, expectation in his eyes.
