Love Inspired Historical February 2016 Box Set

by Karen Kirst

  Suddenly she felt as though she was back at that train station watching her father walk away. She’d never told anyone about how she’d all but demanded that he leave and stay gone. She’d never said a word about how much she’d wished he’d turned around at the last minute, agreed to come home and promised to make them a family again. Only her mother knew that when he’d finally returned to make his peace and, in those few final moments, begged for forgiveness, Adelaide had denied him hers.

  She hadn’t allowed herself to love anyone fully since that day. Now it was happening all over again. Only this time, she was the one who’d done the betraying. She was the one in need of forgiveness. And she was the one who wouldn’t receive it. That became clear the moment the back door closed behind Chris. Adelaide had never felt more alone than she did in that moment.

  This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? To be safe. To not have to open herself up to love and all of its uncertainties. It wasn’t at all what she’d imagined it would be.

  She had a choice. She could continue to live insulated, afraid, detached and uncommitted. Or she could let in love, in spite of her fears.

  That’s when she felt it. A stirring in her soul, a warmth with no explanation—God’s love. She’d invited it inside. Now it wanted out of the little box she’d placed it in. It wanted to spread out, to consume her fears, to make room for other kinds of love. Tears filling her eyes, she yielded just a little. It swelled in her chest and dropped her to her knees right there in the middle of the Johansen’s kitchen where someone could walk in on her at any second. She didn’t care.

  She closed her eyes and prayed. God, I’m so sorry for resisting Your love and the love of all those You’ve placed in my life. It wasn’t fair to them. Nor was it fair to me. Open my heart again. Let me love like You do. Take away my fears and help me to be brave—brave enough to run the race You set out for me with no holding back.

  The kitchen door swung open. Adelaide glanced up to meet her mother’s gaze. Rose’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. From the very beginning I insisted Chris was like Hiram. If I hadn’t—”

  “Ma, stop.” Adelaide stood and took Rose’s hand. “I should have known it wasn’t true. I was so desperately afraid to love anyone again that I put up every wall I could construct. I need to tear them down. I need you to help me.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Come with me.”

  Realization filled Rose’s gray eyes. “To the graveyard?”

  “No, to the railroad station.”

  Rose tilted her head. “We’re not leaving town again, are we?”

  Adelaide smiled. “No. I just need to do something there.”

  Rose didn’t ask any more questions until they arrived at the alleyway near the station. Even then, she only sent an inquiring glance. Adelaide pulled in a deep breath. “This is where I lost Papa. Not when he died, but right here, where we had our last fight. I told him to leave and never come back. He did once and only once.”

  “I know. He wrote to me and told me.”

  “I wish… I wish that he had stayed.” She pulled in a trembling breath. “I loved him so much.”

  “Adelaide, he loved you, too. He just wasn’t the staying kind of man. He tried from time to time, but it never stuck. There was a restlessness inside of him that couldn’t be tamed. He kept searching for something he couldn’t find. In the end, he realized that was because he’d been running from it all his life.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “What was he running from?”

  “God.”

  “God?” In her mind, she saw a younger version of herself hanging on to the side of the wagon as Hiram sped away from the resounding voice of a tent preacher. “You mean he became a Christian? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You didn’t want to talk about him after he died. Neither did I. Before that, I wasn’t ready to believe he’d changed until he returned.” She smiled. “He credited you for setting him back on the right path. He said what you did that day at the station awakened his conscience. The next time he heard a minister preaching about forgiveness, he didn’t run. He listened and started trying to turn his life around. He was already on his way back here when he got sick. That’s why he was so intent on asking forgiveness.”

  “I should have forgiven him. It’s just that after all he’d done, I couldn’t. I never understood how you managed it, either.”

  “I didn’t.” Rose gave a helpless shrug at Adelaide’s confused look. “I said the words he wanted to hear. I didn’t mean them.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time we both said them and meant them. What do you say?”

  Rose was thoughtful for a long, quiet moment, then nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take a little walk and do it in private.”

  Adelaide understood the desire for privacy. She wanted some, too. She waited until Rose had claimed a bench beside the station to set about the task that needed to be done. “All right, Papa. I know you can’t hear me, but I need to say this out loud and maybe God will pass along the message. I forgive you. I know you weren’t perfect, but neither am I. Lord, I’m sorry for holding on to that for so long.”

  Something made her glance over to where her mother sat. Knowing what she had to do next, she gave an internal groan. Why was this harder to do? Perhaps because the cut was so fresh. She waited until Rose glanced up before walking over to meet her by the bench. “Ma, I want you to know. I forgive you, too.”

  Tears spilled onto Rose’s cheeks. “I was just about to tell again you how sorry I am.”

  “Well, you don’t need to.” Adelaide paused then, remembering how she’d prayed about having more love toward others. Finally, she said, “But I would like a hug.”

  Rose didn’t hesitate to give her one. “We should do this more often.”

  “I think so, too.” Adelaide sat on the bench and patted the seat next to her. “There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time, but haven’t had the gumption.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Ignoring the cautious look on Rose’s face, Adelaide asked, “How is it that you and Everett ended up with such a healthy marriage after what happened with Pa?”

  Rose smiled. “It’s Everett. Since the day we met, he has never stopped fighting for me. What could I do in return but the same? Now, turnabout is fair play. What happened with you and Chris?” Rose listened as Adelaide explained the arrangement Chris had suggested, then asked, “And how do you feel about that?”

  “Miserable. I love him. I want to live with him and be his wife.”

  “Let me show you something, then.” Rose pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of her dress. “I’m not supposed to have this. I found it in Chris’s room while we were staying at his apartment. Have you ever heard of the Bachelor List?”

  “I’ve heard folks mention it in passing. Why? Is that it?”

  “It certainly is. Town lore says the couples matched on this list belong together.” Rose handed her the list. “Take a look at who Chris’s match is.”

  Adelaide ran her finger down the paper until she reached his name. “He’s matched with me. But why? I wasn’t even in town when Ellie created it.”

  “I asked Ellie about it. She said she spent several weeks trying to figure out who Chris’s match was. Then she realized the reason she couldn’t figure it out was because his match didn’t live in town—she lived in Houston. As for town lore… Well, I think you already know you belong together. You just need to convince Chris of that.”

  Adelaide shook her head. “That will not be as easy as you make it sound.”

  “No, but will it be worth it? Is your husband worth fighting for?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Rose grinned. “Then we have work to do.”

  *

  After all of his worrying about Adelaide breaking his heart, he’d done it to himself by walking away from her and the promise of a life together. Yet Chris knew it was far better f
or it to have happened once, at his own hand in his own time, than repeatedly at her instigation for the rest of his life. He’d done himself a favor. He knew that. It just didn’t feel that way.

  It had been unexpectedly hard to untangle his life from Adelaide’s in the week since their wedding. It hadn’t helped that she’d convinced him to let her move into the apartment above the mercantile. He’d moved out the same day and had started looking for a new place. That search would probably go a lot faster if Chris could find any motivation to look. For now, he was staying in his old room at his parents’ house.

  Sophia hadn’t been willing to give up having a sister, so Adelaide came over for dinner more often than not. She said there wasn’t much use in going through all of the trouble to cook for one. When she did, she’d bring down the leftovers into the mercantile for him and whoever else might be working at the time.

  He also ran into her at the newspaper office relatively often. He’d thought about quitting, but it wouldn’t have been right to renege on his promise to Everett, especially since he’d been in the middle of working on an important story. Besides, living in the same town with her meant they would have to learn to coexist. She didn’t seem to be having a problem with it, which he found downright maddening since it was pure torture for him.

  Hearing her voice in the kitchen with Sophia, he slipped out the front door and hurried to work. Olan lifted an eyebrow when Chris joined him behind the front counter. “You’re early again. Can I assume that means Adelaide is at our house?”

  “I see her so often we might as well be married.”

  “You are married.”

  He sent his amused father an unappreciative look. “You know what I mean.”

  “She left something for you on the desk in the store office.”

  Chris sighed. “Of course she did.”

  Olan shook his head. “How long are you going to be angry at her, son?”

  “About as long as it takes to get her out of my heart and off of my mind.”

  “Man doesn’t live that long.” In an obvious reference to his heart flutters, Olan patted his chest. “Take it from me. You can’t just let any old thing steep in your heart. Anger and resentment are nothing to hold on to, especially when it comes to your wife.”

  Chris couldn’t agree with that. Not when he knew his wife was far more dangerous to his heart than a little bit of anger and frustration. “I know what I’m doing, Pa.”

  “That’s debatable.” Olan sent a glance heavenward and walked off muttering in Norwegian about stubborn children and young love.

  Chris heaved a heavy sigh, then gave in to the temptation to peek inside his office at what Adelaide had left for him. It was a manuscript. Was it the latest Joe Flanagan novel? The one she’d been working on? No. Confusingly enough, the title page listed Adelaide Harper as the author. What was that supposed to mean? Had she discarded her pseudonym? If so, why not use her married name?

  The dedication page revealed the answer. They hadn’t been married when she’d written this. Well, at least, they hadn’t known they were married. She’d written it for Chris Johansen—my champion, best friend and beloved fiancé. He reluctantly pulled his gaze from the first few intriguing lines of prose on the next page to glance at the clock. He’d have to wait to read it until after work.

  His anticipation grew until he was finally able to lock up the store and head back to the office where he’d left the story.

  He read until the light waned, then he lit a lamp and read some more. Once he finished it, he leaned back in his chair a little too hard, which caused it to wobble. He grasped for the desk to steady himself and sent a few books tumbling to the floor in the process. He was kneeling to pick them up when the door swung open. Adelaide eased into view with her gun drawn. He froze so as not to startle her and kept his voice calm. “Adelaide, it’s Chris. Put the gun down.”

  “Oh.” She sagged against the door frame in relief and laid her free hand over her heart. “Chris, I thought you’d left hours ago, then I heard a noise down here…” She shook her head. Placing the gun on the desk, she sat beside it and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Living alone is scarier than I thought it would be. Every little noise sets me on edge.”

  He placed the books on the desk near the gun. “You could always move back in with your parents.”

  Silence greeted his remark. He made the mistake of looking at her. Her pale green eyes held a world of longing. The shadows beneath them revealed that this week had not been as easy on her as she had managed to make it seem. Something inside him softened. It was all he could do not to reach out to trace the lamplight’s glow across her cheek and down to her chin.

  He forced himself to look away and caught sight of her gun. Grateful for the reminder of their topic of conversation, he said, “You shouldn’t have come down here if you thought there was an intruder. If you find yourself in that situation again, stay in the apartment with the doors locked and your gun loaded. Or take your gun and get out of here entirely. Come find me.”

  “I will.”

  Stepping behind the desk, he collected his hat and keys from one of the drawers. “I should go.”

  She slid off the desk. Instead of heading for the door, she came around to stand on the side of the desk, effectively blocking his escape. She glanced down at the manuscript, then up at him. “I see you found my present for you. Is that why you’re here so late? Were you reading the manuscript?”

  “I finished it.”

  “You did?” She searched his gaze, seemingly unaware of the vulnerability in hers. “What did you think of it? It was the first book I ever wrote so I know it’s a little rough around the edges.”

  He found himself stepping closer. “No, it wasn’t. I thought it was excellent. I could see the beginning of several themes that carried over in your other works. There was so much adventure in it and…” He forced himself to stop rambling and allowed his perplexity to enter his voice. “You made me the hero. Why?”

  She smiled and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “There were many reasons. For one, I’d always intended to give it to you as a present. You’d talked so much about dime novels that I thought it would be fun for you to read about yourself living in one. Looking back, I think there was more to it than that.” Her voice softened. “You were the first man to enter my life and be a hero to me. You have always treated me with the utmost respect and caring.”

  Fearing he’d weaken under the weight of her words and the pure appreciation on her face, he glanced away and tightened his jaw.

  “Even now, when you can hardly stand to be in the same room with me, you’re still looking out for my safety. I guess that I was without someone like you in my life for so long that when you came into it I didn’t know what to do about it. I ran away and I pushed you away and I’m…”

  She tentatively touched his arm and he glanced down to find her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry for that. I would give anything to change the way I behaved, but I can’t. I can only change the choices I make from here on out. That’s what I’m trying to do. I’ve forgiven my father. I’ve decided I’m not going to let the bad things in my past decide my future. I’m moving on. I want to move on with you.”

  He shook his head. “Adelaide, I’m not going to do this anymore. I’m not going to let you pull me closer only to push me away again. We have a plan. Separate lives. Separate houses. You can make things easier for both of us by sticking to it.”

  “Chris, if you weren’t angry with me right now, what would you do?”

  Before he could even fully process the question his gaze dropped to her lips. It lingered there as a hint of a smile curved them.

  “That’s what I thought.” She moved toward him.

  He took a step back and sent her a warning look. “Adelaide.”

  Her finger landed on his chest. “You are the pot calling the kettle black, Chris Johansen. I’m not pushing you away. I’m doing everything I possibly can to pull you
in. I’m living in your house, for crying out loud, and I know you still have a key. You can come home to me any time you want. Instead, you’re using the anger you feel to shield you from your feelings for me. I know, because that’s what I did with my doubts about you. Well, one day that anger is going to fade away just like my doubts did. You know what you’re going to be left with? Love.”

  Everything within him stilled, waiting. “What do you mean? Are you—are you saying—?”

  “I love you.”

  He felt the conviction in her words down to his soul. His heart longed to answer her words in kind but fear held him back. He’d said them once and somehow been able to walk away. He couldn’t chance it twice.

  “I will always love you.” She splayed her left hand over his heart. “You see this ring? It means I’m yours.” She picked up his left hand in her right and placed it on her cheek. “This one means you’re mine. We belong together. God did not go to the trouble of reuniting us so that we could live separate lives. You know that. Now, please forgive me. And, when you’re ready, come home. I’ll be waiting.”

  Leaning forward, she rose on her tiptoes to give him a gentle, parting kiss before she left.

  He stood there, too caught up in her to move. The memory of her words swept through his mind like a gentle wave lapping at his defenses, eroding them bit by bit. If he was being truthful, he had to admit she was right about his anger. It had been the quickest, most convenient barrier he could erect between them. Any time that fire began to burn out, he’d found some way to fan the flames. The process was utterly exhausting.

  It was only a matter of time before the separate lives he’d insisted they lead drove him mad. The only reason he’d manage to last this long was because he saw her every day. And, what did he do every night? He went over every interaction, every glance and every word they’d shared that day, so much so that she filled his dreams when he finally went to sleep.