by Etta Foster
She shrieked in delight as well as her sister Lorelei as she threw her arms around her. They clung to each other, giggling. Lorelei had a busy schedule so in the last two months of her family knowing she was in town, Louise had only seen her once.
“About time,” Lorelei groaned. She squeezed her one more time before stepping back. She had the prettiest, softest hair Louise had ever seen that she tossed over her shoulder.
Just seeing her again eased the stress in her shoulders as Louise beamed. Turning back to Richard, she offered a sheepish smile for having been so discourteous.
“Richard, this is my sister, Lorelei.” Louise said. “Lorelei, this is Richard Hanson.”
“It’s about time,” her sister winked.
Though Louise had already told Richard much about her family of late, including her younger sister’s dwarfism, she had still been worried that he wouldn’t know what to do when he met her sister.
Many folks were still awkward about it and usually couldn’t hide their frowns or disgust.
It made her sick to her stomach that people didn’t understand or care.
But Richard surprised her again as he managed a shaky bow. “I was just thinking the same thing. It’s about time Louise stopped keeping us apart. You’re even lovelier than she mentioned.”
Lorelei started to blush. It took all of Louise’s effort not to chuckle.
“You’re too kind,” her sister muttered. “There’s no need to butter me up so quickly.” Then she cleared her throat. “Come along. Mother and Father are just sitting down.”
She felt the blood fade from her face. “We’re late?”
Her sister waved a hand as she stepped back inside. “Father insists on eating a little earlier every year. You know how he is. But I reminded them that Stephan can’t clear the streets.
“Come in, then. Any coats? Hats?”
Louise shook her head, guiding the way. Richard followed, shuffling after her.
They talked quietly after closing the door and making their way through the grand hall.
The inside of their home was similar to the outside with whitewashed halls and flowers everywhere. Extravagant chandeliers hung above their heads. Each time she glanced back at Richard, he was looking at something new with curiosity.
She could still feel the heat on her face as they reached the dining room. There was the scraping of seats as her parents stood up upon her arrival.
Lorelei made her way to her designated seat. As though she were leaving Louise alone to deal with her parents.
All she had to do was remember that she had Richard beside her.
“Good evening,” Louise announced hesitantly as she glanced up at her parents. She tried to smile for them. “Mother, Father. I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Richard Hanson.
“Richard, please meet my lovely parents, Mrs. Lacy Moreau and Mr. Lowell Moreau.”
It was her mother who welcomed Richard first.
After kissing Louise’s forehead, Mrs. Moreau stretched forth her hand to Richard with a large smile. She was wearing her pink pearl earrings, so she wanted to make a good impression.
“Well, well,” Mrs. Moreau chuckled. “If it isn’t the cowboy who stole our daughter’s heart. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Richard. May I call you Richard?”
A lump formed in her throat. Her mother never tried to reach a first name basis with anyone this early upon meeting them. But Louise didn’t know what this meant.
She hardly heard Richard’s reply as she glanced to her father.
Her father was tall with a head of silver hair and a fine mustache. Dressed in a vest clearly chosen by his wife, he stepped forward and opened his arms.
Louise hesitated before accepting the hug. “Hello, Father. It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” he replied before moving to offer a hand to Richard. “And to you, young man. You look light on your feet. Come take a seat next to me.”
She shrugged when Richard glanced at her, and then they were seated to enjoy supper.
Her father’s favorite meal of beef tenderloin, potatoes dauphine, and croissants. She could even smell a chocolate souffle being prepared in the nearby kitchen.
“You’re a farmer, Richard?” her mother asked.
Richard cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m a rancher,” he volunteered. “Meaning I handle some farming and mostly cattle. My parents built on the land when my brother and I were children. We’ve had some good years and we’re currently looking to grow.
“The west is full of space and we’re really enjoying the opportunities before us.”
“Space?” Her father glanced up. “Whatever do you need with space? We’ve lived here for years. We have plenty of space.”
Louise bit her tongue, wishing she could tell her parents to behave.
No matter what she tried, Louise found her parents seeking to learn more about Richard. They wanted to learn but they were overly critical of him no matter what he said.
As the evening wore on, she worried Richard was being worn down as well.
“That brings in enough to make a living?” her father asked with a raised eyebrow.
Louise glanced at Richard whose fingers danced lightly on the table. Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered if her parents were going to frighten him away.
“It does,” he answered. “But like I said, it’s another world. It’s a simple life. Even if there’s a winter where we lose cattle, we might do all right with enough potatoes.”
“You’d live off potatoes?” her mother repeated. “It certainly is a different world.”
“But it’s a good one.” Louise swallowed as she looked up. “Honestly, it’s lovely. I think you two would be amazed. And you’d be impressed by Richard’s ranch.”
Her father scoffed lightly but was silenced as their housemaid and cook, Marie, brought out the chocolate souffle. Everyone was distracted as they enjoyed dessert.
As Marie returned to start clearing the table, her father raised a hand.
“Bring out some warm milk for the ladies, Marie,” he instructed her. “And brandy in the study. The gentlemen need to step out for a conversation.”
Louise straightened up. “What? What conversation?”
Her eyes skittered over to Richard. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. Then she turned to her father, but the man showed nothing.
Standing, her father looked to Richard. “Shall we?”
“Father,” Louise started.
But he shook his head at her. “Well?”
“Right, yes,” Richard shifted hastily. The chair creaked loudly as he grabbed his crutches and started to stand at the same time.
Soon he was standing, moving over to her father. They left quietly and Louise stared after them.
Then she turned to her mother. “What was that about?” she cried out.
Her mother picked up her spoon. “It’s your father. What do you expect?”
“They’re men,” Lorelei added. “Perhaps Father wants to talk business possibilities. Louise! What if he’s going to ask for your hand in marriage?”
Flustered, Louise didn’t know what to think. She shook her head as she stared at the half-eaten souffle.
“That’s silly,” she replied.
Her mother sat up straight. “Never mind your father. I want you to tell me about that ranch. Is it as filthy as it sounds?”
Louise sighed. Though she tried to offer polite conversation, her eyes kept turning towards the doors.
She hoped Richard was all right. Part of her wondered about what Lorelei had said.
They hadn’t talked about marriage. They had talked about dancing, but that was all.
Life had been going well for them lately, but she didn’t want to put pressure on Richard, not while he was still healing.
She had already accepted that she would need to wait for him. Louise hoped that he felt the same about her.
Chapter 38
Richard eyed the man warily
as he accepted the tall leather chair.
Though Louise had been honest about her family’s wealth, he hadn’t taken it into consideration until that night. He’d never seen such a splendid house and garden.
And now he was seated in Mr. Moreau’s study with a large fireplace and shelves covered in hundreds of books.
It brought his mind back to the ad he had sent about wanting an intelligent woman. But Richard would have never thought such a request would have brought him there.
He had never planned to leave home, let alone visit Louise Moreau’s family estate.
The crutches fell and he winced at the clatter. “I’m sorry about that,” he started before reaching for them.
“What are your intentions with Louise?”
Mr. Moreau’s question made Richard stop. Closing his fist, he straightened up. He had been wondering if that’s what this would be about.
Marie stepped inside with the requested drinks. Neither men budged.
The older man was tall with thick shoulders and hands. He was clearly refined from the sharp twist of his mustache and his fine clothes. Part of Richard knew that the evening had been spent preparing to intimidate him.
The other part of him refused to be cowed.
“I’d like to marry your daughter, sir.” The words came out as confident as he could muster.
“And I’d like to have your permission,” he added to be courteous.
The older gentleman drummed his fingers against the desk. “You wish to take my daughter far away. How can I expect you to take good care of her when your livelihood depends upon the weather?”
It had been a while since anyone addressed him in this manner.
While he respected Mr. Moreau for wanting to protect his daughter, Richard recalled how Louise had mentioned that it was her father who thought women shouldn’t read.
“One could consider that everyone’s livelihoods depend on the weather. In storms, one can’t travel to town to practice law.
“Shops can’t open if people can’t leave their homes. No job is perfect and there are always limitations,” Richard allowed. “But there are ways to work around it.
“I always have cattle on the move where they can grow while nourishing the land. They support my crops that I can both sell in town and eat to survive. I’ve been running my ranch for over ten years and no matter the weather, we find a way to come out on top.”
The man quizzed him, asking about his church attendance and how he intended to treat Louise. Richard wanted to express his desire for intelligent conversations with Louise but found himself wavering.
He didn’t want to upset the man, and he didn’t want to do anything to upset Louise.
Leaning back in his seat, Mr. Moreau rubbed his forehead with two fingers as he stared at Richard. Louise had the same eyes, though they usually looked softer.
“You might be able to handle a ranch with your brother,” Mr. Moreau articulated carefully, “but how do you intend to support a wife when you can’t even walk? You said so yourself that the west is dangerous.”
Richard tried to rub his sweaty hands on his pants without the man noticing.
“I understand,” he tried to think quickly. “I know right now I don’t look strong. Only a few weeks ago I couldn’t move my toes. But I’ll be walking again soon.”
“Like an old man? Or someone who can be a proper husband to my Louise?”
“Walking like a man for Louise. I can do it, Mr. Moreau. You just have to give me an opportunity to let me prove myself.”
“Now you’re asking for things?”
His heart thumped in his chest as Richard realized he should have been more delicate in his phrasing. He thought fast and hard.
“No. I want a fair chance. If - if I can walk across the room without my crutches, will you agree? That I can have Louise’s hand in marriage?
Mr. Moreau stared at him long and hard. “I’ll consider it.”
Richard decided that was the best answer he was probably going to get. Louise’s parents had spent the evening testing him and they would until he was gone. He knew he could merely turn away, but he found himself unable to do so.
Richard wanted to prove his worth. Perhaps then, Louise would know he was worth something. And he would know it for himself.
If he could prove to the Moreau family that he was a good man, then maybe he would believe it himself.
“All right.” Richard swallowed hard.
He grabbed the arms of his chair and turned. His crutches scratched noisily against the floor. Wiping his forearm across his brow, he glanced over to the chaise.
It wasn’t far. Only about three yards from his chair. But as he pulled himself shakily onto his legs, Richard wasn’t certain about the distance.
He balled his hands into fists on his first step. There was no time for weakness, not before Mr. Moreau.
And not before himself.
Another deep breath before he managed to move his left foot.
Already his legs were shaking. His knees were stiff, and his spine ached. That day, he’d spent a long time stretching and working at the clinic.
He hadn’t thought he’d have to spend more than a couple minutes at a time using those crutches.
And he had yet to walk on his own.
Richard supposed any time was as good as then. Especially if it was for Louise.
He stared hard at the chaise and imagined her there. She had taught him just weeks ago that a chaise was a fancy bench.
It was only a few steps.
Sweat dripped down his brow and he wavered. But picturing her there helped him find the energy to keep moving. Keep walking.
Three steps to go.
Forcing himself not to reach out too soon, he managed the last couple of steps slowly and painfully before landing heavily onto the bench.
Richard inhaled deeply as he wiped his brow.
“Ah.”
Picking up the crutches, Mr. Moreau strolled over.
“A man willing to try that hard must be worthy of my Louise.”
Richard’s eyes widened as he met the older man’s gaze of acceptance.
A surge of relief flooded through him so strong that he had to suppress a smile. He accepted the crutches as Louise’s father gave him a deliberate nod.
“Thank you,” Richard responded.
The man rubbed his hands to take a seat beside him.
“There are not many men who have attempted to attract Louise’s attention. What makes you different, hm?”
Rubbing his neck, Richard glanced around as though there might be an answer hiding somewhere.
Then he turned back to Louise’s father. “What do you mean?”
“She is pretty, yes? Pretty and wise and fast on her feet. A good cook. But anyone who came to the door, she did not look at.”
For a minute he thought about what Mr. Moreau must have had on his mind.
Three daughters and no husbands. It must have weighed on the man. Even with his work and his beautiful home, a man had to care for his family.
“You’re right.” Richard thought through his words carefully. Rubbing his damp hands, he nodded and turned to the man he hoped would still be his father-in-law after this.
“Louise is pretty. She’s clever, and always eager to help. And she’s smart. Very smart. At the end of the day, after all our hard work, it’s nice to sit down and just talk with Louise. She knows everything, sir.”
Mr. Moreau had a perfectly trimmed mustache that he stroked thoughtfully. “My family is a good one. They are blessed. But books are not important for women.”
“Isn’t knowledge important?” Richard forced a smile.
When there was no answer, he expounded on several of the conversations he’d had with Louise. There was the weather and food and hope and joy. They had an entire world just waiting to be understood.
Soon the conversation took one turn and then another.
While Richard wasn’t certain he had convinced the man
to change his mind, Mr. Moreau made certain allowances as they discussed the changing world and the responsibilities of families.
“Take care of her.” The man patted Richard’s shoulder as they stood up.
“Of course, sir.”
The door was opened for him and he slowly made his way out. Richard tried not to think about his shaking legs.
