“Was this man who wronged you sorry for what he’d done?”
Lance said nothing for a moment. He gave another heavy sigh. “My father says he was. Right after he killed my brother, which he claimed was purely accidental, the man sent my father a letter of explanation and apology. Father said he barely read the words before throwing the letter in the fire. He said apologies wouldn’t give him his son back. Of course, at that time there were doubts about my brother’s death. The perpetrator said it was an accident, but others said it was murder.”
“I’m sorry you lost your brother.” Hope felt as if this were yet another part of their lives that somehow intersected. “But I doubt you’d feel better, even if you were able to seek out that man and kill him. Grace says only God can heal a hurt like that, and only God can make you feel truly protected—safe. I’ve come to think she’s right. Although I have to admit my faith is very weak.”
“Mine too,” Lance admitted.
She looked into his eyes and saw the pain there. It was more than she could bear, and without thinking she put her hand in his. There were no words for the thoughts in her heart. She wasn’t a wise woman who could offer profound counsel, nor was she intellectual enough to reason it out through logic. All she could give him was her friendship.
Mercy enjoyed dancing with Toby Masterson more than she’d anticipated. When she was handed off to another partner, all she could do was think of him. Toby had captured her fancy, to be sure, but Mercy wasn’t sure what to do about it. She was only fourteen. Where she had found his attention intriguing and fun before, now she found her thoughts toward him tangled in knots.
Feeling a stitch in her side, Mercy begged off the next reel and made her way to the refreshment table. She picked up a cup of punch and turned back to watch the dancers. Toby had partnered with Beth, and it appeared from their smiles and laughter that they were enjoying themselves.
Mercy now knew that Beth was sweet on Toby. She hadn’t realized it at first, but little things throughout the evening clued her in. Several times she’d caught Beth staring up at Toby with such a look of adoration that it was almost brazen. Then during the musicians’ break, Mercy was surprised to see Beth actually flirting with him. She touched his arm and batted her eyelashes in a practiced fashion that left Mercy no doubt of her friend’s intentions.
The music ended, and Beth made her way to where Mercy stood. She grabbed a cup of punch and gulped it down. “Oh, my,” she gasped, “I don’t know when I’ve been happier. Toby is a wonderful dancer and he . . . well, he’s so sweet.” She looked at Mercy and smiled. “Don’t you agree?”
“He’s very kind and a great dancer.” Mercy saw Toby crossing the room to join them. He looked at her through the sea of people and winked.
“Oh!” Beth said with a giggle. “He winked at me.”
Mercy started to correct her but knew it wouldn’t matter. Beth was clearly smitten. Rather than say anything, she sipped her punch. The last thing she wanted was to get into an argument with her best friend, especially over a boy.
Chapter
14
That evening as Lance sat with Hope, watching other people dance, he couldn’t help casting sidelong glances at his date. The day had proven to be a quiet and comfortable time—one he’d enjoyed very much. Hope had comported herself in such a manner to receive well-wishes from the townspeople and offer them in return, but she never opened herself up to anyone. Not even to him—not truly.
He knew she was still wounded by the past and wished he could somehow alleviate her misery, but he was doing well to figure out his own haunting memories. How did a fellow go about undoing years of anger and mistrust?
“Mercy dances very well,” Hope commented, looking at him momentarily. “Don’t you think?”
Lance watched the young girl swinging on the arm of the pastor’s son. The square dance seemed to delight her, and Lance thought he’d never seen her look so happy.
“She does. It’s good to see her having fun. She’s a very deep thinker, that sister of yours.”
Hope picked at a piece of cookie and nodded. “She is. She’s always been like that. Where other children were fidgety and noisy, Mercy was always quite still. She likes to think about things, and she feels things quite deeply.”
“I had an interesting talk with her at your house the day I came to tell you about the trial. She’s going to make an amazing woman. I wish I had the depth of understanding about God that she has.”
“I know.” Hope looked back at her sister. “She takes God at His word without question. I try, but I find myself constantly trying to look for something more.”
“More?” Her comment intrigued him. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged and eased back in her chair as she looked at Lance. “I don’t know exactly. I suppose in some ways I’m trying to figure out if God is really who people say He is. I’m trying to prove or disprove Him, I suppose.”
Lance could understand that. “When I was little, faith in God was just a matter of daily living. My mother oversaw our religious training, and she was fixed in her own faith. After she died, it was hard for the rest of us to hold on to our faith when God had taken the heart of our family. It was far easier to be angry and bitter toward Him and everyone else.”
“Yes.”
The music ended, and Mercy came to join them. “I’m dying of thirst, and the refreshment table is overrun with parched dancers,” she declared.
“Here, have my lemonade,” Hope offered.
Mercy downed the half-full glass just as another young man came to claim her for a dance.
Lance watched Hope as she followed Mercy with her gaze. There was something of regret in her expression, as well as love.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
“No.” She continued watching the dancers. “I don’t feel comfortable with that idea. I’m sorry. You can certainly go ask someone else.”
“I’m not a huge fan of dancing. I just thought maybe you’d changed your mind. You looked rather regretful just now.”
She turned to him at this. “I suppose I am.” She said nothing for a few moments then added, “Mercy is so sweet and carefree. I regret the loss of innocence in my life—of being able to believe that everything and everyone was basically good. A part of me wishes we’d never come west. I can’t help but wonder what life would have been like for all of us had we remained in St. Louis.”
Lance had wondered the same thing about his own life in New Orleans. His father’s friends had advised him against joining the army. They’d encouraged him instead to focus on running the plantation and his interest in law, but Lance had known that getting away from all that was familiar was necessary for him to heal. For whatever reason, he knew he would never be the man he needed to be if he remained in New Orleans. Thinking about it now, he wondered if it was wise to return. Perhaps it needed more thought.
“Do you regret coming west?” Hope asked, jarring him out of his thoughts.
“No. Not at all. I think leaving home was good for me. Joining the army was an experience in maturity that I think every man needs. There’s something about facing death that causes a man to evaluate his choices in life. It taught me not to waste time on foolish arguments, and it gave me a better understanding of human nature.”
Hope considered this. The slight frown she wore made him wonder if she disagreed with him, and when she didn’t speak, he felt the need to press the issue.
“You look as if you think me wrong.”
She shook her head. “No. I had just never thought about how much those life-and-death experiences changed me. I mean, I knew it made me grow up and changed me from a frivolous flirt, but everything about me is different than it was prior to the massacre.”
“How so?”
“It’s made me more . . . more honest—more real. I think before, I was wearing a false front like people put on buildings when they want them to look like there’s more to it than there is. I wasted a lot
of time and energy on foolishness.”
“I find that hard to imagine.”
“You shouldn’t. You can ask Grace or even Mercy. I was self-centered and childish, but everything changed that day at the mission.” She fell silent and gazed at the dancers.
Lance got the distinct feeling she wasn’t going to say anything more on the matter, so he didn’t press her further. He cared about her feelings and wanted her to know that, as his friend, she could be at ease. If that meant they sat in silence for a time, he would happily comply.
The next day at work, Lance was still pondering all that he and Hope had discussed the day before. He remembered his father’s dying words to him.
“Don’t spend your life seeking revenge. If you do, you’ll find you’re left with nothing when death comes for you. Seek God’s mercy and understanding instead, and we will see each other again in glory.”
The words were hard to hear, especially as they were his father’s last. Lance had stood at the casket and wondered if Alex Armistead would be happy to know that all of the Kenners, save one, lay cold in their graves. He had always imagined Alex dancing a jig and offering his friends a round of drinks in celebration at the news. Now that image didn’t seem to fit. And yet he hadn’t met the man to know that for himself.
“Are you all right?” Edward asked, eyeing Lance with concern. “You’ve been staring at that saw blade for at least ten minutes.”
“Sorry about that. I guess I have a lot on my mind.” Lance picked up a file to sharpen the teeth of the blade.
“Son, if you have something you need to discuss, I’m happy to lend an ear.”
“I find myself wrestling with the past.” Lance shook his head. “I don’t seem to be able to make sense of it all.”
“God alone can help you with that. He’s the only one who can take the messes we make and turn them into something worthwhile. Have you taken this matter to Him?”
“Not exactly.” Lance looked at his employer and saw the face of a friend. “I want to, but I’m not exactly sure how.”
Edward took a seat on the stool across from Lance. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.” Lance put down the file and waited for Edward to speak.
“Have you put your faith in God? Have you accepted Jesus as your Savior?”
Lance shrugged. “I went through all the training that the church gave. I always supposed I was as much a Christian as anybody else.”
“Sitting in a church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than being in a doctor’s office makes you a doctor. It’s more than that. The Good Book says it’s about believing and confessing.”
“I believe in God.”
“That’s good, because even the Devil does that much. Always makes me wonder about those folks who deny the existence of the Almighty. That makes them dumber than the Devil. See, the Devil not only knows God—he knows that God is in control. He knows he’s under God’s authority, and even though the Good Lord is giving him enough rope to hang himself with, the Devil just keeps trying to best God.” He chuckled. “But I’m gettin’ off on a rabbit trail.
“Believing in God is the first step, but believing that He sent His Son Jesus to die for your sins is the next.”
“I believe that. My mother and father did too. It’s only natural that I believe it.”
“But you can’t be saved on your parents’ faith. It has to be your own. See, you can’t save yourself. Jesus already did that by dying on the cross. But you aren’t without responsibility. You have to accept His gift of salvation.”
“And how exactly do I do that?”
“Confess your sins—your worthlessness without God—and ask God to forgive you. You have to humble yourself before Him and admit it’s too much to handle on your own.”
“And that will eliminate the pain of the past?”
“Maybe not at first, but God will ease that away—if you let Him. I’ve seen folks wrestle God for their misery, however. I think some folks just like being unhappy. They’ve been wallowing in it for so long, it’s become a part of them—makes them who they are.”
“I’ve never wanted that. It just seems hard to break away.”
Edward smiled. “We’ve all been where you’re at now. Just don’t stay there. Take it to God. He can relieve you of that burden. He’s the only one who can. Meanwhile, I need that blade sharpened.” His smile broadened. “And then, if you’re of a mind, you can follow me home for supper.”
“Will Hope and her sisters be there?”
“Not this time. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Lance smiled. “I guess I’m just getting used to seeing them.”
“I think maybe you’re used to seeing one more than the others.” Lance couldn’t hide his surprise, and Edward chuckled. “I’ve seen the way you look at Hope. You have feelings for her. I’m figurin’ you may even have changed your mind about going back to New Orleans.”
“We’re just friends,” Lance said quickly. “She only wants to be friends.”
Edward sobered and nodded. “She’s been through an awful lot, but I think you know that.”
“I do. She’s shared some of it with me.”
“I hope you won’t push her for more than friendship until she’s ready for it. Going through the massacre at Whitman’s and enduring everything afterward has left a deep mark on her. Grace gave me the details as she knew them, and Hope will be a long time healing.”
“I know, and I don’t want to do anything that will cause her more pain.”
Edward smiled. “Glad to hear it. With her pa dead and gone, I feel the need to watch over her. All of them, for that matter. You do anything to wrong her, and you’ll answer to me. Understand?”
Lance nodded, his expression serious. “Understood.”
Later that night, Edward’s words were still echoing through Lance’s mind. Not so much what he’d said about Hope—that was nothing new to Lance. He already handled her with caution.
It was Edward’s words about God that held Lance captive. He sat on the edge of his bed and pondered what to do. Edward made it sound like a simple matter of admitting he was lost in sin without Jesus. But that seemed much too easy. Wouldn’t God require more of a man?
Noting the time, Lance blew out the lamp and stretched out on his bed. His body needed rest, but his mind seemed inclined to continue working. Maybe he would talk to the pastor on Sunday and see what he had to say about it.
“I just wish Alex would send me a message and let me know that he’s all right,” Grace said as she sat at the table, grinding herbs.
“It’s not like he can run to the post office.” Hope brought Grace the glass jars she’d asked for earlier. “It’s not even that easy to get to one of the forts. Not from the areas he’s visiting.”
Grace nodded. “I know, but I’d still like to hear from him. It’s been weeks.”
Hope went back to measuring out the ingredients for a cake. It was Uncle Edward’s birthday, and they’d invited the entire family for a celebratory meal. At the last minute, Grace had suggested they extend the invitation to Lance as well, and Hope thought it would be nice to see him again. She’d noticed him at church on Sunday, speaking with Pastor Masterson, but Grace had wanted to get home, and there hadn’t been time to exchange pleasantries.
She hadn’t spoken to Lance since the Fourth of July dance, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been on her mind. It was strange to find him constantly there, in fact. She supposed it was because he was kind and undemanding. Other young men seemed to have only one thing on their minds—marriage. Women in the territory, although more plentiful now than they had been even two years earlier, were still scarce. Hope found complete strangers asking for her hand. For that matter, she’d heard them ask Mercy as well.
“Have you talked to Mercy about love and marriage?” Hope asked, glancing at Grace.
Grace looked up in surprise. “What brought that question to mind?”
“She and I are
both proposed to all the time. I just wondered if you had ever talked to her about such things. Mama talked to me, but I was given to flirt and think myself in love from the time I was twelve. Mercy’s never been like that.”
“No, I suppose she hasn’t. I doubt Mama ever spoke to her about it and probably thought she was too young. When I look at her I still think her too young.”
Hope nodded. “So do I, but that doesn’t stop men from thinking otherwise. Toby Masterson certainly isn’t thinking of her that way. You should have seen the two of them at the dance.”
Grace’s expression grew serious and she frowned. “I suppose you’re right. I should talk to her.”
Three hours later, the family shared a lovely lunch. Grace had put Lance beside Hope at the table, making it hard to focus on anything but his presence. Throughout the meal, he asked her questions and told her about cleaning out the cabin. After a while, she found herself relaxed and enjoying the meal as if the past had never happened. When she realized she hadn’t thought of the massacre at all that day, it surprised her.
When everyone seemed to have eaten their fill, Hope brought out the birthday cake for Uncle Edward. “Did you save room for this?” she asked.
“Well, if that don’t beat all.” Edward smiled and elbowed his eldest son. “Looks good enough to eat.”
The boy looked at him oddly. “Of course it does. That’s what cakes are for.”
Edward chuckled. “I knew me a fella once who sat on a cake.”
“Sat on one?” Phillip’s eyes widened. “Why would he do that?”
Hope watched as her uncle’s expression took on a mischievous edge. “Because I didn’t see it sitting on the chair.”
Everyone laughed, and Hope reclaimed her chair beside Lance. In Alex’s absence, Edward made their days much brighter.
Lance smiled and leaned closer. “When’s your birthday?”
Beloved Hope (Heart of the Frontier Book #2) Page 14
