Beloved Hope (Heart of the Frontier Book #2)

by Tracie Peterson

  “I hope you have a very happy birthday,” Mina told Lance.

  “I nearly forgot,” Grace said, getting to her feet. “We have a present for you.” She disappeared then returned with a folded quilt. “The girls and I thought you might need this, since the days have grown much cooler.” She handed the gift to Lance.

  He looked at the quilt and then to Grace and Hope. “Did you make this?”

  “We ladies did,” Grace replied, nodding at Mina and Hope. “Mercy helped too. We almost always have quilting projects in process. I hope you like it.”

  “I do. Very much.”

  He still wasn’t himself. Maybe he was tired, or maybe his mind was on the trip to come. No matter his thoughts, however, they were clearly weighing heavy on him.

  “A good quilt is always a welcome addition to a house,” Uncle Edward said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll round up our boys and head home.”

  Grace followed them out, leaving Hope with Lance.

  “All right, what’s wrong?” she asked.

  He frowned and looked at her oddly. “What do you mean?”

  “I can tell something isn’t right. You seem upset about something, and as your friend, I thought I would ask.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine.” His clipped tone betrayed the lie. “I’m just surprised . . . that’s all.” He got up from the table with his quilt in hand and moved into the front sitting room.

  Hope followed him. He went to stand by the fireplace, still holding the quilt. The fire had died down considerably during their lunch, so she added more wood, saying nothing while she stoked up the fire. Finally, she had no reason to keep poking at the logs and straightened.

  “You aren’t fine. You’re upset about something. You don’t have to talk to me about it, but maybe you should talk to Uncle Edward.”

  “It’s all right. I just hadn’t planned to head out into Indian country again.”

  “I imagine that’s a daunting prospect. I certainly couldn’t do it.” She remembered the trip she’d made from Fort Nez Perce to Fort Vancouver. The whole way she had feared the boat would be attacked and they’d be taken hostage again by the Cayuse. She shuddered and forced the thought away. “Hopefully now that there are so many soldiers around Fort Vancouver and The Dalles, it won’t be such a risk.”

  He nodded but continued to study the flames. Hope had never seen him like this.

  “Lance, you aren’t at all yourself. If there’s something else, you should say so. No one will force you to go if you’re . . . troubled by it.”

  “I’m fine!” he snapped. “Mind your own business.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, but rather than silence her, his words only emboldened her. She planted her hands on her hips. “I am minding my business. My sister is my business, and this trip is to help her.”

  He shook his head, and his voice dropped low. “Then go help her. I’m neither your husband nor your beau, so you have no right to question me.”

  He stormed from the room and headed out the front door.

  Hope marched right after him. “I’m glad you aren’t either of those things to me. Frankly, if this is how you see friendship, I’d just as soon not have any part of your romance.”

  He whirled around and opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it and shook his head. “I’m going to saddle my horse. Tell Grace to have that bag ready for me so I can head back to town.”

  “Tell her yourself. She’s just around the corner of the house!” Hope knew she was being rude, but his attitude and words had hurt her.

  She left him standing there and made her way toward the smaller house. She didn’t want to see anyone in her current state of mind. Edward and the others would be near the barn and pen, and Mercy and Toby would be with the sheep, so the empty house would give her quiet solitude. If anyone came looking for her and asked why she was there, she could always tell them she was making sure they hadn’t forgotten anything.

  She entered the house just as the rain began again. The cold permeated the thin cloth of her gown, and she rubbed her arms to keep warm. Gazing around the empty room only made her feel worse.

  “What purpose does it serve, Lord, for me to realize how much I care about him if he doesn’t return my feelings?” She whispered the prayer, all the time shaking her head. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what to do.”

  Indifference had served her well before, so perhaps that was what she needed. She squared her shoulders and strengthened her resolve. She wouldn’t be moved by this.

  “I don’t care about him.”

  But even as she spoke, she knew it was a lie.

  Chapter

  18

  Lance hated himself for the way he’d treated Hope, but how could he tell her that the past had risen up like a beast and destroyed his peace of mind? No one had asked him if he was willing to retrieve Alex. Edward and Grace had been talking about it one minute, and the next Edward was saying he would pay Lance to go to Fort Nez Perce and bring Alex home. Lance hadn’t even had a chance to refuse, because Grace began to cry in gratitude.

  Unable to make sense of the mess, he put the quilt aside. He grabbed his saddle and flung it atop his mount, muttering to himself the whole time. He thought his anger toward Alex was dead and buried. Why did he feel like this now? And why were thoughts of killing Alex in his head?

  “I’m not a murderer.”

  He tightened the cinch, remembering the men he’d killed in the war. He’d hated it. Hated knowing that he’d ended a man’s life, and yet now he was thinking how easy it would be to smother a sick, helpless man. If Alex died that way, no one would think anything of it. They’d simply believe he had succumbed to his wounds.

  The idea disturbed Lance immensely. The fact that the thought was his own made it all the worse.

  With the horse saddled, Lance stepped outside the barn to see if he could spot Grace. She and Edward were near the large pen, where Edward was wrangling his boys. Mina and the baby sat in the wagon near the side of the house. Lance knew he couldn’t wait around for Grace to produce the bag of medicine. He had to get away before he said something he’d regret.

  No, I’ve already done that.

  Again Hope’s hurt expression came to mind. It had been so fleeting that another man might have missed it, but not Lance. He’d learned to read her and knew just how much he’d hurt her.

  He marched back into the barn to retrieve his horse. Just as he started to mount, he spied the quilt. Hope had gone out of her way to plan a birthday party for him, and she and her sisters had made a beautiful quilt for him, and this was how he thanked them. He picked up the gift and stuffed it as best he could inside his coat to keep it from getting too wet. He thought about seeking out Hope to apologize, but fear held him in place. If he went to her, something inside him knew it would be a disaster.

  He mounted and made his way out of the barn, and no one threw so much as a glance his way. He knew he should wait, but he couldn’t. He had to get away from this place and these people. He slapped the reins and kicked his heels against the gelding’s side, causing the horse to spring into a trot. That wasn’t enough, however, and Lance pushed the horse to go faster and faster. The rain soaked through his coat, leaving him cold and uncomfortable, but he didn’t care. He was barely holding his own in a war between his heart and his mind.

  “If you ever have a chance to make Armistead pay for what he did,” his brother Marshall had said as they led him off to prison, “do it. Do whatever you can to end his life.”

  Until now, that had been nothing more than the angry words of a man about to face several years in prison. Alex had disappeared from New Orleans and no one knew where he’d gone, so challenging him to a duel or even murdering him in his sleep hadn’t been a possibility the then-twelve-year-old Lance could consider.

  Then there was his father begging him to make peace with the past.

  “I thought I had made peace.”

  He looked at the rainy skies overhe
ad. Edward had told him that peace only came through God. Hope had said Grace gave her the same advice.

  Hope.

  He’d treated her abominably and would have to rectify that before he left. He supposed part of his reaction had been his own pent-up frustration. He had fallen in love with her and didn’t know how to win her over. He had promised he only wanted friendship, but now he wanted so much more.

  Once he reached Oregon City, Lance forced himself to slow the horse. He had no desire to bring attention to himself, nor did he want to stop and speak to anyone. Thankfully, because of the rain, there were few people out. Beyond a nod here or there, no one seemed at all interested in where he was headed.

  The rain was falling harder by the time he reached the cabin. Lance saw to the horse, then made his way into the house, soaking wet. His first order of business was to start a fire. After that, he draped the damp quilt over a couple chairs, then shed his wet clothes and hung them around the living room to dry.

  He dressed in the only other pair of long underwear and trousers he had and found dry socks and a shirt. The comfort of the fire and dry clothes settled his temper somewhat. He pushed the worn settee closer to the fire then plopped down onto it, shaking his head.

  “What’s wrong with me? Why did I act like that? I was determined to put aside the past and make peace with Armistead, and now everything has changed.” It made no sense, and Lance wondered if this was the way it would always be.

  Only if you want it to be.

  Lance looked up, expecting to find someone there, but the room was empty. Still, the words had seemed almost audible.

  “But I don’t want it to be that way. I’m in love with his sister-in-law. I can’t hate him or cause him harm and expect to win her love. Then again, given the way I just treated her, I can’t expect to win her love at all now.”

  He pounded his fist against his thigh. The turmoil was overwhelming. He sat in front of the fire, adding a log from time to time and trying to sort through his heart. Finally, he felt there was no other choice but to turn it over to God. It was much too great a burden to keep carrying himself.

  “God, I don’t know if I’m doing this by the book or not, but I’m sick and tired of myself, and I need Your help. Edward said it started with believing and confessing, and I guess that’s what I’m trying to do now. I have all this hate and anger inside me. I thought I left it back in New Orleans after Father’s death. I thought I could just make peace with the past and all that happened, but I don’t seem to be doing a very good job of it.”

  A log rolled off the burning stack of wood and onto the stones around the fireplace. Retrieving the poker, Lance pushed it back into the hearth. He stared into the flames and thought of the fire that Marshall had set—the fire that had killed Alex’s parents. He put himself in Alex’s place. How would he have handled the matter? Had Alex been able to forget the past, or would he want to exact revenge on Lance once he knew who he was?

  “I’m a hateful man, Lord. Ungrateful and full of anger. I confess that. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes and bad choices, but I need to be forgiven. I need to find peace, Lord, or I can’t make this trip tomorrow. Please forgive me and set me free. I want to please You and live by Your Word. I don’t know exactly how to do it, but I remember my mother telling me that I should honor You above all else, and that’s what I plan to do. I’ll get a Bible and start reading it, and I’ll be faithful to pray. Just please—please take away this ugliness from my heart.”

  Lance slept amazingly well after his time of prayer. He couldn’t say that everything had come around right, but a definite peace had washed over him. When he awoke that morning, Lance knew he had to write Hope a letter and pray that she’d forgive him.

  With only a few minutes to spare before he needed to head down to the dock, Lance took up his pencil and a piece of paper.

  Hope, please forgive me for the way I acted. I can’t explain in this letter, but I promise I will upon my return. I can’t bear that I hurt you, and I don’t offer any justification for my temper, because there is none. Just know that I hold our friendship very dear and would rather drown in the river than hurt you like that again.

  He read over what he’d written. It seemed so little to counteract all the pain he’d inflicted. For now, however, it was the best he could offer. He signed his name, then folded the paper three times and dripped wax on it to seal it. He’d stop by Edward’s and ask him to take it to Hope. He’d also apologize for leaving without saying good-bye last night.

  Before he could gather his bag and leave, however, a knock sounded at his door. Opening it revealed a frowning Edward Marsh.

  “I meant to come over here last night,” Edward said without preamble, “but the baby was colicky, and Mina needed help with the boys.”

  “Is Baby John all right?”

  Edward’s expression relaxed a bit. “He is. Some of Grace’s tonic fixed him right up.” He held up a carpetbag. “Speaking of Grace, that’s why I’m here. She sent these things and wrote instructions for how to use them. She was mighty upset that you’d taken off without waiting for them.”

  “I’m sure. I’m afraid I was in an ill temper last night, and I apologize. In fact, I was just on my way to your house. I’m sorry for the way I acted. I guess there was just a lot boiling up inside me. Hope and I argued, and I knew I had to leave before I lost my temper in full. I hope you won’t hold that against me.”

  “Of course not,” Edward replied. “You know you can always talk to me if you need to.”

  “I do. Fact is, I spent a good deal of time talking to God about it. I heeded your advice about believing and confessing.”

  Edward’s face broke into a smile. “Well, if that don’t beat all. That’s good to hear, Lance. Real good.”

  Lance took the bag from Edward. “I need to hurry, but I wonder if you’d do me a favor and deliver this letter to Hope. It’s an apology.”

  The older man took the letter and stuck it in his coat pocket. “I’ll take it out there this morning. Can I help you with your things?”

  Lance picked up his bag and shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

  And for maybe the first time in his life, he honestly felt the truth in that statement.

  Grace walked out of the new house toward the chicken coop. She pulled her shawl close against the damp chill and prayed for the hundredth time that morning for Alex’s swift recovery. She’d had no other letter from him since the one that informed her of his injuries. It had been hard not to defy sense and reason and jump on the first boat to Fort Vancouver, but she knew that would be foolish.

  She put her hand on her protruding stomach and tried to reclaim the joy she’d felt when she first realized she carried Alex’s child. So much had happened in the last four months, and all of it seemed unimportant except this. The baby was more important than anything else, and Grace knew she would do whatever she had to in order to reach a safe delivery.

  Gathering eggs, she prayed for Lance to bring Alex home safely. She asked for Alex to have a miraculous healing—the same prayer she’d prayed since hearing the news of his condition. She prayed too for her sisters. Hope had been troubled after Lance’s rapid departure. Grace thought Hope had feelings for Lance, but her sister declared them only friends. Still, friendship was the very best place to start a journey toward falling in love.

  “Grace?”

  She straightened and saw Hope standing in the doorway. “I’m just getting the eggs.”

  “I could have done that. You should have stayed in bed where it was warm.”

  Grace smiled and joined her sister, careful to keep the still-warm eggs safe in the fold of her apron. “I’m perfectly healthy and able to do my share of the work around here.”

  Hope nodded. “I know you are, but I . . . well, this baby . . .” She let the words trail off.

  Grace looked at her sister and realization dawned. Hope had carried a baby too, but that pregnancy had been unwanted. Hope had desperately wan
ted to lose the child—to be rid of that final reminder of the wrong done to her and the others.

  “Hope, I worry that my condition might be too hard on you.”

  “It’s not that,” Hope said, shaking her head. “That is, well, it’s something to do with that, but not in the sense that it bothers me or makes me wish to be elsewhere. I just know that as much as I didn’t want my child, you want yours. And I want it for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I promised Alex I’d take care of you.”

  Grace smiled. She held such admiration for her sister. “Hope, you have changed so much from that silly, flirtatious girl who came west. So many times I’ve chided myself for ever forcing that move on you and Mercy, but you’ve turned out to be an amazing woman of strength, and I know Mama and Da would have been proud of you.”

  Her words seemed to take Hope by surprise. “I’d like to think that’s true. I know Mama used to worry about me being flighty and full of nonsense.” She smiled. “And I was.”

  Grace laughed. “Yes, but everyone has the ability to change—with God’s help.”

  “I’ve thought a lot about God lately,” Hope admitted. “I want you to know I’m on the right path where He’s concerned. I know I pushed Him away at one time, but I know too that I was wrong. You’ve helped me see that more than anyone, and I know Mama and Da would be proud of you as well. You’ve done so much to keep us all together. I just want to return the favor.”

  Grace shifted her hold on the apron and leaned sideways to give Hope a hug. There were tears in her eyes when she straightened back up. “No matter what, we’re going to have a good life here.”

  Hope nodded. “Yes. I believe that too. I couldn’t always, but I do now.”

  “There you are,” Mercy declared, coming into the coop. “I was looking all over for you, Hope. Uncle Edward stopped by and brought you this.” She held out a letter. “He said it was from Lance.”