by Emily Woods
James smiled. “I saw the advertisement your father put in the paper at the exact time I needed to see it. I was feeling stuck. Trapped, more like. I needed a change. Everywhere I looked, I was reminded of what could have been and what had transpired. Going to social events was difficult, wondering if I would run into Tessa or her parents. And I didn’t want to embarrass my parents any further, even if they insisted I never had.”
He grinned. “God’s timing is funny, isn’t it? The chance to start a new life, be who I felt like I needed to be, came at the exact time I needed it.”
“I believe it was God who brought you out here as well …” Marigold said quietly.
James smiled at her. “Marigold … I …”
“I know,” she replied.
“I just want you to know I would very much like to get to know you better. I just …”
“You need some time to figure out what God has for you.” She smiled kindly at him. “I understand.”
“Thank you,” James replied. “I do appreciate it.”
“Go on, then,” she said, nudging his arm. “Go get some rest. Everything looks better in the morning.”
“You’re right,” he said.
He watched as she made her way back toward the saloon, finding it hard to look away. She was so beautiful. When she was around, he was able to forget about Tessa. And he was starting to see her face in his dreams more often than Tessa’s. His heart was changing.
He stepped back into the clinic and found Abigail reading by the light of a candle burning low, its wax dripping lazily down the jar it rested in.
“Abigail?” James said. “I think we need to talk. Or rather, you need to listen for a few moments.”
Chapter 6
James decided to take the morning to have a walk outside of town. He knew he was not going to be able to discern what he needed to do with Abigail glowering at him.
She was not pleased when he asked her to listen to his reasons for wanting to stay. He hadn’t expected her to agree, but it was frustrating when Mr. Langston, who was not family, was far more understanding than his own sister. He did understand there were a lot of emotions at play in regard to his sister, but he still hoped she could see past herself and see what he needed. It was something he never asked for before, for someone to think about him.
He wandered the trail toward Mr. Morrison’s farm, taking in the scenery. Even after spending a little over a month in Bear Springs, he was still in awe of the view. It was so different than anything he had ever seen back in New York, and he was amazed at how great a difference there was in his country’s landscape. It reminded him just how big America was.
Marigold’s face kept swimming in front of his mind’s eye, no matter what he did. He was light headed whenever he remembered her words from the night before. His attraction for her seemed to be mutual. He had never expected to find someone like her when he came out here. His intention was to forget about his failures in love, not to discover someone else.
He sighed heavily as he walked, the sun hot on the back of his neck.
He thought long and hard about Utah compared to his home in New York. Utah was different and a sacrifice in comfort. He had a small home, an understocked clinic, and he worried that if something serious happened to anyone, he would be little to no use to them. He was challenged a great deal more in Utah. His patients were not always human.
His home in New York was lavish, comfortable, and large. He had many friends in New York, not to mention all of his family. He had a great facility to use to practice his trade and more than enough at his disposal to do his job well. He had ample connections, elaborate parties, and a highly respected place in society.
But everyone he had met in Bear Springs had treated him like family. They brought him freshly baked pies and offered to mend his clothes. They gave him solace and far too often refused his money when he offered it. And then, most of all, there was Marigold …
His head was spinning. The good and the bad seemed to equal out in his mind. Either way, he would be living somewhere where he was going to experience uncomfortable things. And yet, he truly believed he would also live a rewarding, fulfilling life in either place.
He stopped walking and gazed out over the horizon that stretched far into the distance. The wind danced through the sparse bushes along the road, and the tall grass swayed.
“Lord …” James said, his voice hoarse from lack of use. “I feel as if I am standing at yet another crossroads. I truly believe I came to Bear Springs because You opened that door for me. I was listening to your direction and obeyed, picking up everything and moving out here. I felt as if my life finally made sense when I arrived.”
He kicked at a small stone on the road, sending it scattering away from him.
“And then Abigail arrives in town, telling me that Mother and Father are desperate for me to come back home. What am I supposed to make of this? How am I supposed to feel? Am I selfish if I choose to stay here? Am I dishonoring my parents if I refuse their wishes?”
James frowned.
“I am an adult. Eventually I have to live my own life, not theirs. I understand their concern, as well as Abigail’s, is coming out of a place of love and not malice. They want the very best for me. But why can’t they see that the best for me could be right here?”
He gestured to the ruddy landscape around him.
“And am I reluctant to make my decision for fear of upsetting them? Am I so absorbed in wanting to please others that I am missing the point entirely?”
He thought of Abigail’s frowning face as he described his love of this area to her, the hurt in her eyes.
He sighed heavily.
“Lord … help me to see what You need me to see. Help me to be where you need me to be.”
The wind picked up, rushing past him, swirling the dust around his ankles before whisking it off into the open plains.
His heart ached, but he felt he knew why at last. And so he began his trek back into town.
He found Abigail at the saloon enjoying a cup of tea. She seemed reluctant as she engaged in conversation with Marv, who stood behind the bar as always.
“There you are,” she said crossly, getting to her feet, her tea cup clattering on the saucer. “I woke up and you were nowhere to be found. I have been worried sick.”
“I told her she had nothing to worry about,” Marv said kindly.
“I’m sorry, Abigail. I had to go for a walk. I needed to clear my head.”
“I take it you were considering my request?” she asked.
He held out his hand to her. “Come on, Abigail. Let’s go take a walk.”
She searched his face anxiously, but eventually took his hand and allowed him to lead her outside.
They walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound a whinnying horse from a nearby hitching post.
“You are going to stay … aren’t you?” Abigail said slowly, cautiously.
James remained silent, putting one foot in front of the other as they walked. He could feel her tense beside him, her grip growing tighter around his hand.
“I knew as soon as I saw your face when I arrived that you were going to stay,” she said, a ghost of a smile on her pretty face. “I knew that no matter what I said, no matter how much I begged you and threatened you, you wouldn’t change your mind. I knew my trip out here was a waste of time.”
“It was not a waste of time,” James said, coming to a stop, looking at her intently. “Don’t ever think it was a mistake. I needed you here to help me come to this decision.” He reached down and took her other hand in his. “You are my sister and my dearest friend. You have shown me a great kindness by reminding me of everything back home. Of Mother and Father. Of my friends, my old life.”
He looked out over the town and smiled at her. “When you asked me if I was here just because I was running away, I truly had to look at myself and ask if that was true. If it was, then I was going to have to evaluate if I was here for the right reasons. So for tha
t, I am grateful to you and your visit.”
Abigail smiled at him. “James, these people love you here. They are so blessed to have you. It’s apparent in how everyone treats you.” She shook her head. “I was so worried that you would always feel left out, a stranger in new lands. But I can see it isn’t true. You have great respect from everyone, and you are doing a good work.”
His throat tightened. “Thank you for saying that.”
“It’s the truth,” she said. And then her eyes sparkled knowingly. “And I think there is one very big reason you wish to stay that you have not yet told me about.”
His ears turned pink. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come now,” she said teasingly, patting him arm affectionately. “I have seen the way you look at that girl with the golden hair. Marigold was her name?”
James rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Apparently, the feeling is mutual,” James replied.
Abigail’s face lit up like a star. “Oh, James, that’s wonderful!” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. “I was so worried that after Tessa, you might not ever find someone to love again.”
“Well, now, don’t get ahead of yourself,” James retorted weakly. “We have both recognized there is something there between us, and we are willing to investigate it further. Nothing more has been said.”
Abigail pulled herself away. “As soon as the wedding date is set, you’ll let us know, won’t you? Your family should be at the ceremony.”
“Abigail – ”
She gasped. “Oh! What if you came to New York? Had the wedding in the city?”
“Abigail.”
“We could have it at the little church that Mother and Father were married in!”
“Abigail …”
“Oh, hush, you,” she said, then she kissed him firmly on the cheek. “I understand. But you will keep me updated, will you not?”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
James grinned, feeling everything had come full circle. “I promise.”
He helped Abigail gather all of her belongings and pack her trunk, and asked Mr. Morrison if he would be willing to take her back to the train station. He agreed heartily. Many townsfolk came to bid her farewell, and many asked if she would be back to stay again soon. She said she hoped she could, and she would bring her husband and son when she returned.
James hugged her tightly, trying to fight the tears welling in his eyes.
“Even though I am certain this is where I should be,” he said, “I am still sad to see you go.”
“As am I, Brother,” she said, touching his face affectionately.
He pulled an envelope out of the pocket of his shirt. “This is a letter for Mother and Father, explaining what happened here and my reasons for my decision. Could you please deliver it to them?”
“I’d be honored,” she said. She grinned at him. “You take care of yourself, James Connor.”
“And you give that nephew of mine a big hug from his uncle, eh?”
And then she was off, riding in the carriage back toward the train station, back toward her own life.
The following week, the town celebrated the Fourth of July with great fanfare and festivities. There were pony races, pie eating contests, and a hoe down at sunset to complete the day.
James had spent the day with Marv and Mr. Morrison, enjoying some of the best food he had ever had. Everyone was happy. Everyone was having fun.
When the dancing began, James found a chair toward the back of the saloon and settled himself into it, content to watch the happy couples spinning and tapping across the well-worn wooden floor.
Suddenly, Marigold appeared and seated herself in the chair beside him.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Marigold asked.
“Dancing is one thing I have always enjoyed more from a distance,” he replied.
She looked at him mischievously. “Even if you had the right partner?”
He knew if he looked at her long enough, he would get lost in her eyes. “I have not had the pleasure of dancing with the right partner.”
“Well then,” she said, getting to her feet and waving him toward herself. “Why don’t you dance with me, and we’ll see what happens?”
Feeling as light as air, James stood and gazed into her beautiful face.
Her face split into a wide grin, and she dissolved into a fit of giggles.
He held out his hand to her. “All right. Why don’t we see what happens?”
And together they walked, hand in hand, toward the first dance they both hoped was the start of many.
Thank You
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Bristol, Connecticut, 1887
Kate Landry trembled as she watched the blazing fire greedily devour her childhood home. She clutched her six-year-old daughter, Maddie, close to her chest. Both faces were streaked with black soot, tears flowing down their cheeks.
Despite the efforts of the volunteer firefighters, the modest but respectable two-level house was soon engulfed in flames, dashing any hope Kate might have had for salvaging her belongings.
“Oh, darling girl,” Mrs. Johnston murmured, drawing the two of them into her warm embrace. “What a terrible thing. I’m dreadfully sorry.”
The words of her kind neighbor didn't penetrate the confusion of her mind. Dazed, she struggled to recount the loss. Both of her beloved parents had perished in the fire. Of that, she had no doubt. She’d tried to save them, but the door to their bedroom had been barred by fallen timber. Not only was she bereft of the last two people who loved her unconditionally, but she’d also lost her home and every possession in the course of a few hours. Although she was grateful that her precious daughter had been spared, her heart ached with knowledge she would never she her parents again. Aside from Maddie, they'd been her whole world. Without them, she was lost.
Her mind jumped back to their reunion just three years before. Owing to her husband’s job, they’d been separated all that time. But after her husband passed away, they'd taken her in and given her every kind of support: financial, emotional, spiritual. When she'd arrived on their doorstep with bag in hand, they'd enveloped her into a warm embrace and hadn't let go since. Now she was utterly alone and terrified, but she had to at least pretend to be strong for her daughter's sake.
“We're okay, sweetie,” she whispered into Maddie's hair. The little girl didn't reply, but wrapped her arms around Kate's neck and held on even tighter. “Everything's going to be okay.”
“Come to my house,” Mrs. Johnston insisted, taking Kate by the arm and compelling her to follow. “I'll find you a bed and you can get cleaned up.”
“Bu
t...I don't have anything to wear,” Kate protested lamely. Of course she didn't have anything. It had all been inside and was now reduced to a pile of ashes.
“Never mind that. I have Anne's old clothes and some of her daughter’s. We'll find something for the both of you.”
The neighbor's house was similar to their own four-bedroom structure, which was common among the middle class in Connecticut. However, Mrs. Johnston's children had all grown and left, so there was room for them. Still, Kate hated to be an imposition, even at a time like this.
“Are you sure? I would hate to...” But the words died on her lips. If she couldn't bother Mrs. Johnston, a woman who had watched her grow up and been almost as present in her life as her own mother, who could she bother? Her mother had been an immigrant, so all her family was back in Italy. Kate had some contact with the family, mostly through her cousin, the only one who knew English, but she couldn’t fathom travelling halfway across the world.
Her father only had one sister, who lived thousands of miles away. Of course she’d had friends, but they'd grown apart after she'd married Roland. The wives of his friends had become hers after that, and she thought they were true friends. She’d been wrong. They'd all but disowned her shortly after Roland had taken his own life, and their savings along with him.
“Of course you’ll come,” Mrs. Johnston commanded, interrupting her memories. For once, she was thankful of the older woman’s domineering attitude. It was what she needed right then.
“Th-thank you. Yes, we'll come to your house.”
She allowed herself to be brought over, washed up, and put to bed like a child. Maddie, still shaking with fear, nestled into her side so closely that they were almost one. Kate struggled to find the words to pray, but none came. Wracked with fear, worry, and grief, she couldn't summon the energy to talk to her Heavenly Father. Indeed, at that very moment, she didn't even want to. After the initial gratitude that she and her daughter had been spared, Kate felt nothing else. Her heart was crippled, incapable of feeling.
