Depending on You

by Melissa Jagears

  She laughed. “Mama couldn’t live without you.”

  He grimaced. If only that were true. “She’ll manage just fine, but you might not. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you live the life you want.”

  “Papa…”

  “Within reason, of course. No illegal activities.” How had he ever been so sure of himself that he’d gambled her tuition to save his pride? “We’ll both work hard, you’ll sell a lot of books, and I’ll scare off every young man within five miles of you.”

  She grinned. “I’m not sure I want you to work too hard at doing that. But I can’t take you from Mama that long. Depending on how well I do, I might travel for a year, or even longer.”

  “That’s fine. If your mother changes her mind about staying here, she could join us.”

  Staring off into the unseen distance, Jennie chewed on her lip.

  She’d be unable to come up with an argument to convince him he wasn’t needed. If she didn’t suddenly marry someone within the week—and she better not—he’d be by her side the next time she got on a train.

  “I’m not certain my book sales will be enough to provide for us both.”

  “I can do odd jobs.” He squirmed. “You may not have realized my felony conviction has made it difficult for me to find work. I have to move to have any real chance at gainful employment.”

  She sat with her head cocked, as if she could hear something in the silence. “Things are that bad between you and Mama?”

  How she could’ve “heard” that, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t deny it. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’ve nothing to be sorry about, sweetheart.” In fact—he swallowed a suddenly formed lump—she might be the biggest ray of sunshine in his life right now, a reason to get up every morning, someone who wanted him…loved him. Plus, spending time getting to know his youngest who’d been, as she’d said, away from them longer than she’d been with them would be a joy. So much of her childhood had been stunted after her accident, and agreeing to send her off to school had been one of the hardest decisions of his life.

  “I don’t intend to be here much past Christmas.” For some reason, Jennie had lowered her voice. “I’ve got to get back to Chicago and make a deal with a printer and then vacate my quarters. Are you sure you want to leave so quickly?”

  “I’ve already told your mother I can’t stay long.” Should he beg her to reconsider leaving? But if she said no again, he might be crushing Jennie’s hopes as well. “I can pack up as soon as you’re ready to go.”

  “Where’re you planning to go?” Leah’s voice sliced through the room.

  Bryant’s heart jolted. He turned to face his wife, her face screwed up as if she’d smelled something unpleasant.

  She took a step forward, her jaw hard, her shoulders cocked. “You’re leaving already?”

  He blew out a shaky breath. “This isn’t something I’ve kept from you, honey. If I’ve any chance at finding a job, I have to leave. More importantly, Jennie needs me—she’s going to sell her story by traveling the nation and needs protection. And as you’ve said, you have to stay because Ava needs you.”

  “But Oliver needs guidance.”

  “And there are men here who could give him that. Jennie doesn’t have anyone.”

  “Why not come with us, Mama?”

  Jennie’s question sucked all the wind out of his lungs. He forced himself not to mouth ‘please’ to Leah.

  His wife pulled over a chair and took Jennie’s hands in her own. “Why not stay here with us? I could use you in the laundry.”

  “I think my story needs to be told, Mama.”

  “I agree.” Though he’d done his best to never disagree with his wife in front of the girls, this was Jennie’s future they were talking about. “And she’s just like her mother, insisting she can do things without help, even when she needs it.”

  Leah narrowed her eyes at him. “I can do things without help. I’ve done it for months. If it weren’t for the banker keeping me from buying—”

  “Now hold on.” He held up a hand, already regretting his choice to talk in front of Jennie. Why bother trying to convince Leah to come along when buying the laundry was still foremost on her mind? “Why don’t you sell the house?”

  Leah jerked back. “The house?”

  “You were living in the laundry apartment when I returned, so what good does this house do you? Buy the laundry outright from the bank with the proceeds from the house’s sale. Whatever you have left will keep you afloat during times the laundry doesn’t bring in enough.”

  She sat blinking at him. “You mean you’re not coming back at all?”

  He broke his gaze from hers to stare at his clasped hands. His heart began to pound, and he looked over at his daughter. Her head was cocked in a manner unique to her, and her eyes roamed about as if she could see. Was her heart trembling like his own? Worried over how his answer would affect them all?

  But he couldn’t let his daughter go out in the world at the mercy of whoever met her first at the train station. God would protect her, yes, but surely He’d do so through her father. “Jennie’s not sure how long she wants to do this, so I can’t say when we’ll come back. But when we do, I’m certain Ava will let Jennie stay with her.”

  Leah wrung a section of her skirt in her hands. “But you were so proud of this house.”

  He shrugged. “Who cares about the house?”

  “I do.”

  “Why?” He pushed himself off the floor. “You’ve told me you don’t need me, and I have nothing else to offer.”

  Before either of them said anything more they might regret, he left for his room. Tomorrow, he’d give the banker the permission he needed to allow Leah to proceed with whatever business endeavors she wanted to pursue.

  Shutting their bedroom door behind him, he forced himself to breathe deeply so as not to tear up. He had returned to Armelle believing God had wanted him to fix his marriage, but maybe God had brought him home to assist Jennie in sharing her gifts and talents with the world. He’d told Leah he’d not push her to soften toward him before she was ready, but maybe he’d have to wait from a distance, woo her through letters, give her more time to heal.

  Though leaving while his marriage was still in shambles was not what he wanted, it seemed God was asking him to do just that.

  But for how long?

  Please, God, don’t let it be forever. And yet, Thy will be done.

  Chapter Ten

  Soft, fat snowflakes brushed the laundry’s windows and piled up on the sill, making the afternoon silence even more hushed. Leah returned her cold iron to the stove, but didn’t take up the hot one. She glanced at the door though it was unlikely many would venture out now, even if it was Christmas Eve and their best suit and gown awaited them on the counter.

  Of course, she didn’t care who came in if it wasn’t Bryant, though he surely wasn’t coming either. Nor had he come yesterday or the day before. Once he’d decided to help Jennie sell her books, he’d not returned to work at the laundry.

  Somehow, she felt even lonelier than when he’d been in prison.

  He really was leaving.

  She sniffled, but then stamped her foot to stop herself. She had no right to be sniffling. He’d told her he had to go. She’d told him she had to stay. And if he didn’t go, she’d think less of him for letting Jennie go off into the world alone and unprotected.

  The door bell jangled, and Leah spun so fast, she pulled something in her neck.

  It was only Miss McGill.

  Leah held in her groan and massaged the pain now pulsing below her ear.

  “It’s cold out there. Brrr.” Gwen rubbed her arms encased in a fur-lined coat Leah fought not to be jealous of. The white wool was trimmed in the softest-looking gray fur. Though it probably wouldn’t look as good on her since Gwen was still young and unscarred.

  Leah left the shirt she was ironing to meet Gwen at the counter. “What brings you out in
this weather?” Or for that matter, to the laundry at all. Had she ever seen Gwen here? Though the young lady’s father had devastated his family, Gwen’s brother seemed to be managing their money well enough to keep their fine house and staff.

  “I was hoping you might possess some magic.”

  She gave her a slight smile. “I’m afraid no stores in Armelle can offer you that.”

  “I’d hoped Miss Stillwa—I mean, Mrs. Key had left you with some secret formula for getting out stubborn stains.” Gwen pulled out a gorgeous emerald dress from a large bag. “I wanted to wear this to the Christmas program, but these black marks on the hem will not budge. I simply cannot wear this in front of Mr. Parks’s nephew, you know the one who comes up from Laramie? No woman wants to make a bad impression on a man like that.”

  Leah shook her head. “I thought you’d set your cap for Mr. Wright.”

  Gwen fluttered her eyelashes. “A girl without a ring on her finger should keep her options open—especially for someone like Andrew Parks, who is dashedly handsome and part owner of a railway. Do you think you could get the stain out before you close?”

  “If you braved the snow for this, I suppose I could try, but I can’t promise anything. I’ve not the flair for mixing chemicals like Mrs. Key.”

  Gwen put a hand on Leah’s. “Oh, do try your best. Otherwise, Mr. Parks will see me in my red dress two years in a row, and that won’t do for catching a man’s eye.”

  Without knowing what possessed her, Leah set her free hand atop Gwen’s and stared straight into her cheery glibness—it had to be fake, right?

  Gwen’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t pull away. Something intelligent flickered in her blue eyes, which normally seemed jolly, yet blank. “Was there something you needed, Mrs. Whitsett?”

  Leah looked away for a second, but then pulled in a huge draught of air. What other woman in Armelle could sympathize with the betrayal she’d incurred? Gwen’s father had been the mastermind of the crimes that had adversely affected them both. “Have you been able to forgive your father yet?”

  Gwen’s hand tensed between Leah’s. After looking Leah in the eye for a moment then glancing toward the door, all tension seemed to drain out of her, and then her expression changed, almost as if she’d aged five years in a moment. “Pastor Lawrence has said many times that love is a decision. A promise to act. Not a feeling. At least, the kind of love God asks of us. So I figured since God commands us to forgive as well, the same could be said of that. So I decided whenever I felt unforgiving, I’d act as if I wasn’t. Or at least ignore the compulsion to say or do anything to the contrary.” She gave Leah a weak smile. “Prayer seems to help, too. I’m not sure I can say I feel as if I’ve forgiven my father, but I’m going to say that I have.”

  Such mature insight from a woman many would describe as flighty. Only weeks ago, Leah had figured Gwen would be the one needing her guidance rather than the other way around. “I’m impressed.”

  Gwen shrugged. “I’m not certain you should be. I can’t say how I’ll feel when I see him again.”

  Leah glanced out the window. The snow had stopped. “I’m finding that having Bryant home is more difficult than I’d imagined. I hope you don’t struggle as much as I have when your father returns.”

  “Oh, I don’t intend to still be here when he comes back—if he has the audacity to do so.”

  Did others think it was audacious of Bryant to return? He’d told her finding employment was difficult, but was there more to it?

  “And it’s different for me.” Gwen pulled her hand from Leah’s and began to twist a loose thread on the tablecloth folded beside her. “My father may have provided for my needs, but he never gave me anything out of love, really. He dressed me to the nines and let me furnish our house—more so to reflect well on himself than to make me happy. No one has ever mistaken my father for a loving parent.”

  Gwen shook her head slightly. “Anyone who was at the trial heard how my father had Bryant pinned in a corner. And everyone knows how much your husband loves you. His mistakes may have been rooted in selfishness, but that isn’t the whole of his character. However, ever since my mother died…there’s been nothing left inside my father that cares about anyone other than himself.”

  Leah recaptured Gwen’s hand. “If it’s any consolation, everyone I know marvels that you and Bo are as kind and well-adjusted as you are.”

  The young woman huffed. “Kind? Bo maybe. I just keep to myself.”

  Keep to herself? The girl who’d flirted with nearly every man who stepped foot in Armelle?

  Gwen smiled brightly, and Leah tightened her hold before Gwen pulled away. “Do you not think people will think us weak-willed for forgiving them too quickly? If I start talking about Bryant again like I used to, telling others what a good husband he is or how much I love him, don’t you think I’d appear gullible and stupid?”

  “Mrs. Tate and her ilk might think so, but for those who want the best for you? None of us want to see you miserable just to make sure Bryant is. Besides, he did what he did trying to protect his family—my father wasn’t thinking about Bo or me.”

  “You may be the only one who thinks Bryant’s motivations had any merit. No one here will hire him, so he has to leave town.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Gwen gave Leah’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll miss you, but I understand.”

  She’d so easily assumed she’d go with Bryant that Leah had to look away.

  Gwen blew out an exasperated breath. “If I’m ever going to get married, I’ll have to leave, too. The good Lord knows I’ve flirted with every eligible man here before my father was sent to prison, so there’s no chance I can win any of them over now. And if Mr. Wright does come back and marry me, he couldn’t stay here and be taken seriously. For what it’s worth though, I’d be thrilled to have you and Bryant walking around town, snuggled up like you once were. I’ve always wanted the kind of love you have.”

  Had.

  Leah winced at the bitterness that colored her thought. Especially since she was more responsible for the coolness between them than Bryant. The other night, he’d made it clear he still loved her. And everything he’d done since his return proved him to be the man she knew. His deception last year had been the aberration, his criminal actions driven somewhat by an attempt to protect his girls, which was what he’d always done—was still doing.

  Gwen’s gentle pat pulled her from her thoughts.

  “Don’t worry about my dress. I’ll find something else to wear. Have a merry Christmas.”

  Leah pulled herself together to wish her a merry Christmas as well.

  Once Gwen left, Leah stared at her irons, having no desire to pick one back up.

  Bryant was right. She’d talked him up so much over the years that she’d begun to love a man who didn’t exist, causing the real man to fear he’d lose her if he couldn’t live up to her ideal.

  Though he’d failed her and could do so again, he was attempting to do what God wanted of him. What was more ideal than that?

  Therefore, she too must do what she ought. As Gwen had said, God didn’t ask His followers to feel like forgiving or loving their enemies. For who feels like loving an enemy?

  And Bryant was certainly not her enemy.

  God might not demand feeling, but He did demand action. And a man, who tried to put his love into action—even if he did so disastrously at times, was worthy of forgiveness.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pastor Lawrence began the Christmas evening program with a prayer that echoed through the sanctuary. “God, thank you for the good news of peace that came wrapped in swaddling clothes hundreds of years ago that we honor here tonight. May our praises be welcome, may our joy be refreshed, may we be humbled by…”

  As he continued, Leah thanked God that a hint of that peace had returned to her. After her talk with Gwen yesterday, Leah had gone to bed hopeful. This morning at Ava’s house, celebrating Christmas with a sleeping baby in her arms had
buoyed her hope that God would help her regain joy with time if she followed Him in obedience.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her husband, who’d closed his eyes, praying along with the congregation.

  He’d handed out gifts this morning. As usual, he’d carved everyone an ornament. Hers had been a simple heart.

  She’d not made him anything, and he’d acted as if he hadn’t noticed.

  She knew what he wanted most, but until yesterday, she’d been uncertain she could give him that.

  Finished with the prayer, Pastor Lawrence invited them to contemplate the meaning of Christmas in silence, and Leah thought back on this morning’s message, which had seemed tailor-made for her. The simple, but often taken for granted truth that God loved mankind so much He made good on His promises, even though people failed Him.

  She’d promised Bryant to love him through the good and the bad, deserved or undeserved. Choosing feelings over vows hadn’t improved her life one bit.

  Across the aisle, Corinne was snuggled up to Nolan. Married a few months ago, their story was a true representation of God’s love rescuing mankind from desperation and offering them abundant life.

  How does my marriage demonstrate God’s love?

  Right now, it didn’t. But it wasn’t too late. God had been angry at the world plenty of times before Jesus came. Never had He pretended sin hadn’t hurt the relationship. Yet He chose to sacrifice Himself out of love for the sake of reconciliation.

  “Mrs. Whitsett?”

  Her head jolted up at the pastor’s insistent whisper.

  His eyes were wide, and he tilted his head toward the piano.

  “Oh!” She stood and hastened her way up to play. If she didn’t rein in her thoughts, she might be the one responsible for mucking up Ava’s hopes for the perfect nativity scene.

  Bryant escorted Jennie to the piano and together, Leah and her youngest started a reverent rendition of “Christ was Born on Christmas Day.” However, when Spencer gained the stage, nearly prancing with excitement as Jacob hooked him to the rope, the aura of reverence thinned as a smattering of chuckles broke out throughout the audience.