Yours Truly, Thomas

by Rachel Fordham

  Abigail opened the door again. “She’s ready. I have to go back to my girls now. Enjoy the evening.”

  “I will. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

  “She’s a remarkable woman. I’ve enjoyed every moment I’ve spent with her.”

  He waited while Abigail walked out of the room and down the stairs, then he stepped through the door. Penny sat propped up in bed. She was dressed in her green dress—the one that brought out the green of her eyes. Her hair was curled and pinned. “You look lovely.”

  She smiled at him. “Why, thank you. It’s nice to wear something other than my nightdress.”

  The apprehension he’d had was gone. This was the woman who had written him. She’d known his heartache and she still sought him out. She was beautiful. Now and always.

  Penny motioned for him to come farther into the room. “I’m sorry I didn’t—”

  “Don’t be sorry about anything. I’m the one who owes you an explanation. But you . . . you reached out to me. The letter—it was from you?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t put my name on it. I wasn’t supposed to care about the letters. My job was to redirect them and then forget them. But yours were different. I heard your voice as I read them. They spoke to me.”

  “Thomas! Penny!” Margaret hollered up the stairs. “Come down. The meal’s ready. You know how I feel about punctuality.”

  “We’ll be right there,” Penny answered.

  He held out his arm. “Margaret’s been busy down there. Go enjoy her meal and then I’ll tell you everything.”

  Penny sat very still.

  “What is it? Have you decided you don’t wish to leave your room?”

  Penny shook her head. “No, it’s just that I can’t put any weight on my leg yet.”

  “Oh.” He froze.

  “You’ll have to help me. If you don’t mind.”

  His throat tightened. “Of course.” He slowly stepped toward her. Being as mindful of her injuries as he could, he lifted her up. She put an arm around his neck and then she was so close to him—their faces only inches apart. He could smell the soap her hair had been washed with and see the faint freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. She was so close.

  “Am I to dine with the men in the hall?” she asked.

  He shook his head but did not speak.

  “Where, then?” she asked. “Are you keeping a secret from me?”

  “It’s not my doing. I wish I could claim this was all my grand plan, but Margaret has set up a little table outside for you to eat at. She’s even found someone to watch Honey so you won’t have to worry about her.”

  “She thinks of everything.”

  He pulled her a little tighter against him. “Yes, she does.”

  “She knows me so well. I’ve longed for fresh air since being sentenced to my room. I don’t think I could ever tire of Azure Springs and its prairies and beautiful sky. I’ll miss them when I go. I’ll try to soak in all I can before then.”

  “Must you go?”

  Penny turned her face away from his and nodded.

  “I suppose I better start walking. If I just stand here with you in my arms forever, that will really get everyone talking.”

  “I’m told this town loves good gossip.”

  He forced a smile but didn’t take a step. “Yes, they do. I’m willing to oblige them. It’s Margaret I’m worried about.”

  “I suppose you’d better take me downstairs, then. I’d hate to be the reason she used the switch.”

  He forced his legs to walk out into the hall and down the stairs carefully and slowly.

  “My father loved eating out of doors,” Penny said as he reached the bottom step. “I feel so eager. Almost like I felt when I went to my first real dance. I remember that night so well. I was a mess of excitement. I cried when I went into the ballroom. I’d always dreamed of being announced at a dance and there I was. And now here I am, free of my room and about to be in the sunshine. I feel the same temptation to cry.”

  “Would you feel as eager if you knew I was to join you?”

  Her beautiful green eyes sparkled with real excitement. “I’d be even more eager, especially if I knew it was your wish as well.”

  “It is.” He grinned, holding nothing back. “I confess, it was Margaret’s plan. I felt uncertain, but now, right at this moment, there is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Penny squeezed his arm. “Let’s go! Let’s enjoy every moment of it. I want to fill the rest of my time here with as much happiness as I can. Dinah always tells me I am too easily swept away, and she may be right. But don’t you just want to be happy sometimes? I feel that way.”

  “I do know that feeling.” He smiled as he set her down into her seat and helped her prop up her leg on an extra chair. The small table was covered in an embroidered tablecloth. Blue and yellow flowers adorned the edge. He took a seat beside her. “It’s easier when I’m with you. May I ask you again? Must you go?”

  “As I see it, there’s no other choice for me.” She leaned in closer to him. “But that is not a pleasant thought.”

  “We will talk of it later.” He shifted in his seat and looked around. Green grasses blew in the breeze while birds circled overhead. The boardinghouse ruckus was far enough away that it was nothing but a muffled din. “Let us talk of happy things and honest things.”

  “It’s time?”

  “Yes.”

  By candlelight, Penny worked on a detailed letter. Her mind and heart would not settle down after the perfect night with Thomas, so she propped herself up in bed and poured her heart out onto paper.

  Dear Dinah,

  I should have written sooner. Especially because I am so thrilled by your news. You are married and you love your husband. I can think of nothing more wonderful than that. I do long to see you and whisper all my questions to you. Someday, I hope, that wish will come true. And now, dear friend, I will tell you why I haven’t written and all that’s happened.

  I’ve put off writing you for many reasons. The first being I broke my leg. I’ll tell you the tale, but first I must assure you that I am recovering and have had excellent care.

  I broke my leg while trying to save Thomas from a burning barn. Actually, it was Thomas’s barn that burned. Margaret discovered just tonight that the man we believe is behind it may be a visitor from out of town who is staying above the saloon. I’m getting ahead of myself. The day of the fire, I happened to be there at the very moment that Thomas walked into the flames. I believe divine intervention led me there. Tears come to my eyes whenever I think of what could have been if I’d not decided to venture to his home. When I got there, he was mad. Out of his head screaming for Clara. I was able to stop him but not before a beam fell and broke my leg. He pulled me from beneath it and carried me back to town. I don’t remember him carrying me. I wish I could. It would be lovely to remember being held in a man’s arms for so long, and don’t you think it’s terribly romantic to be rescued? Don’t tell my mother I said that—she’d be even more convinced I am a heathen.

  My poor dear Honeysuckle was hurt and very nearly died. Thomas has been nursing her back to health, with the good doctor’s help, of course. I watched him once from my sickbed. Thomas sat beside Honey and brushed her tangled hair. When it was somewhat less matted, he coaxed her to drink. I found it sweet and touching that he would so gently care for her.

  Since the accident, Thomas has endeared himself to my heart even tighter. No man has ever sat beside an ailing woman as Thomas has sat beside me. He holds my hand, he reads to me, and when my eyes are closed I hear him pray for me.

  Tonight, for the first time, I left my room. Thomas had to carry me from my room, down the stairs, and to the table for two Margaret had set up for us behind the dining hall. I know I should have been blushing in embarrassment, but the truth is, I liked it. I think being in his arms is the finest part of having a broken leg. I am tempted to complain day and night for a very long time just
so he’ll sweep me up into his arms and carry me about.

  He knows now I have read the letters he wrote to Clara and that I am the one from the office who wrote to him. My stomach was sick as I told him the truth, but I didn’t let my nerves stop me. I told him everything.

  It was his turn then to talk. I think he may have been as nervous as I’d been. He kept fidgeting with his fork, and there were moments when he had a strange, far-off look in his eyes. I was nervous too. I’ve wondered so often about his past. Tonight I learned he had been a businessman who had been extremely successful but had cared for little else and had many enemies in his hometown of Alexandria. I believed him when he told me that he did nothing illegal but that he did nothing noble either. He put many out of business and only associated with people if it was advantageous to him. I don’t think I would have liked him very well then. Tonight as he told me, I knew he was no longer that man. He was meek and humble as he shared his dark past.

  I had wanted to know what sort of a man he’d been. And he told me. Though some moments were hard to hear, I am grateful that the secrets are no more. I asked about Clara. The silence was so long. I’ve never seen a man so in pain. I reached out and touched his arm. I wished I could calm him. In a hushed voice, he told how he had first sought her because of her family’s wealth. She was a sweet girl, young and naïve. He says he knew how she adored him and he soon began to care for her too. But he wasn’t the man he should have been, and he didn’t love her like she deserved. Mostly he had liked the way she looked on his arm, and he’d been proud of what a sophisticated woman she was. Poor Thomas was near tears as he confessed it all. The town gossips were sure the couple would marry, but Thomas says he doesn’t know if they would have.

  The night she died, he’d taken her to a fancy restaurant. While they were eating, an associate of his came in and asked to speak to him. He promised he’d be right back, but he stayed away an hour or more. When he returned, the building was lost to a fire. It all happened so quickly. The fire trapped eight people that night. The roof caved in and they couldn’t get out. He said if he’d been the man he should have been, the man he likes to believe he’s becoming, he would have been there to protect her. But it had always been business first for him. Until that night when he watched that building burn and realized what a monster he was.

  Dinah, he wept. He sobbed when he told me of running at the building and trying to save her, only to be too late. He blames himself for her death. Everyone blamed him. Clara’s father, people who worked for him, everyone. He didn’t care that they were being unjust. He said when he was standing there looking up at the burning building, he saw his many sins and wanted to hide. He wanted to run away and free everyone from his own presence.

  My stomach churned just hearing him say it all. He doesn’t seem like the man from his story at all. The man I know is kind and thoughtful. He helps Margaret in the kitchen if he’s here early, and he loves the sight of plants creeping from the ground and the smell of rain on a warm day. Margaret told me people can change. I know my father would say the same. I think Thomas has changed. I feel I witnessed the change all those months ago when I read his letters. He says when he came to Azure Springs, he thought it was all an accident, but now he cannot imagine another place. He’s found himself here. He’s found his true self.

  The letters to Clara were a way for him to try to heal. I think it is a good thing I am not a detective. I was wrong about so many things. But I believe I was right to come here. If I had not, I would not have been here to save him. And despite his past, I love the man he is today. I love his tenderness. I love his gentle voice and his laughter. I love it when he holds my hand. I love that he left his city home in search of a better road. I love his toil for goodness. I love it all. You told me I was too easily swept away, and you were right. It’s all happened so quickly for me, but it’s real. What I feel is not a lie. I do love him.

  I could not tell him that, but I did tell him I was sorry for his pain. I told him I believed what I wrote so long ago. His life still has purpose and he can have joy. I believe Clara and my father wouldn’t want us to sit idle just because they are not here. He should have been with her that night, but he was not. That does not make him a murderer. I told him that. I told him it was wrong of anyone to blame him.

  Our conversation was quieter after that. We spoke of loss and how hard it is to go on. We spoke of pain and grief. I always dreamt of a fluttering stomach and tender kisses, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving such things. But tonight, sitting beside a man as he bared his soul, I realized there is more to giving your heart to someone than I ever knew. I believe my father was right when he told me love can come in many forms.

  The sun was gone when we finally left our spot at the little table. He carried me up the stairs. At the top, just outside my room, he held me a moment longer than he ought to have. I thought he would kiss me. I had hoped he would, but he did not. He merely tightened his arms around me and pulled me close and thanked me for listening. It was over before I was ready. Tonight was difficult and perfect all at once. The distance between us is not as vast as it had been. I know Thomas Conner now. I really know him. He has trusted me with his burden, and I’ve trusted him with my own scarred heart. I know not what tomorrow will bring, but I do know that I love Thomas—past and all. No matter what happens, I’ll keep that in my heart.

  I long to see you and meet your Lucas. I want to whisper with you and hear all the things you are not telling me. I was so happy to hear that you are enjoying married life. Your letter lifted my spirits. I should have trusted you more when you first told me of Lucas. Love can be quiet and simple and beautiful all at the same time. Love can be many things. It can be born in grief and pain. I am happy you have your love and a man who will walk the city looking for flowers with you.

  Your tirelessly romantic friend,

  Penny

  25

  Penny.” Margaret stepped into her room. “I’ve brought you a telegram.”

  She sat up and wiped the sleep from her eyes. “What do you mean? Is it another one from my mother?”

  “I didn’t open it. Stuart brought it over. They usually bring them right away. He said the boy who was supposed to deliver this two weeks ago dropped it behind a counter and he didn’t find it until he was cleaning today. He ran it over himself and apologized at least a dozen times.”

  “I don’t know who it could be from.” Penny tore it open.

  Someone looking for Thomas. Came to DLO after you went to Alexandria. I think it’s bad. Roland.

  “Where’s Thomas?” Penny asked with an urgency in her voice she could not mask. She’d feared he was in danger since the fire, but this telegram reinforced her fears. “I need to see him. Is he here?”

  “He went with the sheriff this morning to the saloon. They are hoping to talk to a stranger staying there who rides a black horse. He told me to tell you he’d be back soon. He was all smiles this morning. I think he must have enjoyed your dinner last night.” Margaret reached into her pocket. “He left a note though. Said something about your liking letters.”

  “I’ve never had so much mail.” She took the letter. “Will you get Thomas? I think it could be important. The telegram has to do with him. I think he’s in more danger than we imagined. Will you go to the saloon and get him?”

  “I can’t stand Silas. He’s the serpent who owns the saloon, but for you I’ll go in that wretched place.”

  “I’d go myself if I could.” Her leg muscles twitched. She longed to run to Thomas.

  “I don’t mind all that much. It’ll give me a chance to give the man a piece of my mind. You read your letter and I’ll find Thomas.”

  “Thank you.”

  As soon as Margaret left her room, Penny tore open the letter from Thomas.

  Dear Penny,

  You told me you love letters that expose the soul. I’ve never felt more exposed than I did last night. Until now I’ve always kept any grief or pain I’ve
had to myself. Sharing it with you unnerved me, but you were so kind. You calmed my fears.

  I don’t understand why I’ve been blessed after all my years of selfishness, but I have been. Every moment in your presence is a gift.

  I’d be remiss if I did not thank you. And I’d have to live with deep regrets if I did not plead with you to spend more time with me. Penny, will you dine with me again tonight? Margaret rolled her eyes when I asked her if we could share the outside table again, but then she laughed and said yes.

  Join me tonight?

  Thomas

  Penny set the letter from Thomas on the little bedside table and busied herself by sewing the hem on a set of dishcloths for Margaret. Her mind kept returning to her fears. Would life ever be peaceful? If only she could eat outdoors with Thomas each night with no worries.

  “Penny.”

  “Come in,” she said when she heard Thomas’s voice at the door a few minutes later.

  “Good morning.” He walked across the room and sat beside her. Honey limped over to him and rubbed her head against his leg. “Good morning to you too.”

  “At the dead letter office, we put the envelopes we never thought would be redirected but that we had managed to solve into a little book. It was always fun looking through it. A man named Roland was the very best. He could figure out addresses no one else could.” She held up her thin stack of letters. “I think someday I’ll love flipping through these. Not for the same reason, of course, but because I’ll want to remember it all. Every moment of it.”

  “I’ll have to write you often.”

  She smiled. “I hope you do. Margaret brought me the one from you this morning. I’d love to dine with you again tonight.”

  Thomas’s cheeks turned a faint pink. “I didn’t want to sound too forward.”

  She was tempted to tell him to be a little more forward. She had so little time. This glimpse of romance, if she could even call it that, was to be short-lived. If only she could tell him to take her in his arms and hold her. If only she were bold enough to tell him how she felt about him. “It was a perfect invitation to dinner.”