Love Is Patient Romance Collection

by Vetsch, Erica; McDonough, Vickie; Barton, Janet Lee

  “Rev. Ferry says I might help him at the Indian mission come next summer,” Durant said.

  “I imagine your knowledge of native languages could prove useful. Maybe you could help the reverend learn them,” said Jordan.

  Durant nodded. “And I wish to preach the Word myself.”

  Mr. Henderson and Jordan exchanged startled looks. Mr. Henderson cleared his throat. “An admirable ambition, though entirely impractical. As I told you once before, a preacher requires years of training and seminary.”

  “Peter and John were unschooled fishermen, yet Christ chose them to preach His gospel. I do need Bible training, and I’m working to get it; but for now, I can tell everyone what God has done for me and let the Holy Ghost do His work in men’s hearts. And women’s,” he added with a nod at Jane and Lucretia.

  Jane wanted to applaud. “‘Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature,’” she quoted. “I would like to help at the mission myself. With the children.”

  Durant met her gaze and smiled.

  “God already uses Gus Durant.” Armbruster spoke up in his deep, hoarse voice. “He used him to tell me and McNaughton and the rest about Jesus. God uses him just like he is.” He smiled at Mr. Henderson, showing all his large white teeth. “All he needs is to know a little more about Christ than the people what he’s teaching know and to keep on preaching the pure Word.”

  “Yes…well.” Mr. Henderson cleared his throat again.

  Surely Durant and Armbruster must notice Henderson’s condescending attitude, yet both trappers remained polite and respectful. After the meal, Jordan invited the men into his sitting room. Lucretia joined them, preferring even the company of trappers to helping Jane wash dishes. If that girl was ever going to run her own household, she had a lot of growing up to do.

  Jane tried to pray while clearing away the meal, but rising anger muddled her thoughts. So superior, we Douglases and Hendersons, with our fine manners and our spiritual maturity. How gracious we are, deigning to feed and enlighten these poor ignorant boors!

  The kitchen door opened a crack, and August Durant peered through. Placing a finger over his lips, he hushed her exclamation. “Meet me on the shore past the cow pastures?” he asked softly. “I must speak with you alone.”

  “Meet a man alone? Jordan will never allow it. What could you possibly have to say to me, Mr. Durant?”

  “I must ask you something of importance. Please come.”

  She wiped her wet hands on her apron. “Absolutely not.”

  “On the shore.” The door closed.

  Chapter 9

  Jane checked the mantel clock. Jordan snored on the settee. If she slipped out now, he might never notice her absence. Her discussion with Mr. Durant must be brief and final. The man must understand once and for all that she would never care for him as more than a distant acquaintance.

  Checking her reflection in the hall mirror, she tied her bonnet beneath her chin. Hectic color filled her cheeks.

  She fretted while descending from the fort. What if she were seen alone with Mr. Durant and word got back to Jordan? What if Durant misread her presence? She must be decisive and convince him of her complete lack of interest.

  It would help if she could first convince herself.

  Her heart drummed in her ears. What question did he plan to ask?

  Evening sunlight danced on the lake’s surface. A boat skimmed across the waves, its sails shining white against the deep blue. Gulls wheeled overhead, and a loon warbled in the distance. Already the air held a hint of autumn.

  When Jane reached the shore, she shaded her eyes against the sunset and scanned the beach. August sat on a rock, his face lifted to the sky, his lips moving. Her steps crunched on gravel and pebbles. Hearing her approach, he rose and removed his cap. His face was full of glory. “Miss Douglas, you came.”

  She clutched her shawl. He stepped toward her. Anxiety gripped her throat as her body responded to his proximity. What would she do if he attempted to kiss her? But what nonsense! Why would he want to kiss a plain spinster?

  “Today I heard Miss Henderson call you Jane. That is your given name?”

  Wind whipped his straight brown hair and tugged at her bonnet.

  “Yes. Jane Cornelia Upshaw Douglas,” she squeaked.

  “Jane.” He purred the name, and her heart turned over. He stepped closer and gently grasped her elbows. “Please marry me, Jane.”

  His eyes—they glowed from within, speaking volumes.

  “Dear God, help me!” She covered her face with her hands.

  He released her arms instantly. “Jane, what’s wrong?”

  She rocked physically, battered by conflicting emotions. Anger prevailed. “How dare you?” she wailed. “I scarcely know you. How dare you presume that I—” A sob caught in her voice. “Why would I want to marry a man who lives in a shack?”

  “I’m different now, Jane—you know it’s true. If you’ll marry me, I promise to provide for you—a house, food, anything you need. All I want is a home with you as my wife. I never wanted anything so much.” His voice sounded as rough and choked as hers did.

  Touched in spite of herself, Jane looked up at him. His quivering lips were nearly her undoing. “But you have no employment.” Irritation at her own weakness sharpened her tone.

  He prowled back and forth on the shore, then picked up a rock and heaved it at the lake. Far out in the water, it landed with a loud plunk and a splash.

  He spun to face her. “I don’t care if your brother and the others look down on me, but I thought you were different.”

  She winced. “I see how you’ve changed, Mr. Durant, and I’m so very pleased and … and proud! But …” She flapped her hands in frustration.

  His eyes narrowed intently. “If I owned a house and earned a steady income, would you marry me?”

  Her mouth opened and closed twice before she thought of anything to say. “I would at least reconsider your proposal, Mr. Durant.”

  A glimmer of light returned to his face. “You’ll wait?”

  “Wait?”

  “Wait for me to make good.”

  As if she had a lineup of beaus waiting to sweep her away! “How long?”

  “One year?”

  “Yes. I—I promise to wait.”

  Durant lingered after Bible study. “Mr. Henderson, may I speak with you a moment?”

  “Certainly. What can I do for you?”

  “Sir, you once suggested that I try for a job as clerk at the Company.”

  Henderson nodded. “I did indeed. We have no openings at present, but next spring, I expect that situation to change. You would be an asset to the Company, I’ve no doubt.”

  Durant nodded shortly, turning his new flat-brimmed hat in his hands. “I plan to spend one last winter trapping to earn enough to build a nice house. Spring is when I’ll need that job. I can do figures, I know furs better than most, and I’ll have the Lord watching over my shoulder to keep me as honest as the day.”

  “I’m sure you will.” Henderson smiled a fatherly smile. “Young man, whatever has become of the woman you wished to marry? I never see you in female company at church. Has she left the island, or did she refuse you?”

  A knot tightened in his chest. “She is waiting to see what I can make of myself, sir.”

  “I see. Well, perhaps she is wise. Come see me next spring, and we’ll get you that clerk position.” Henderson gave Durant’s shoulder a thump and turned away.

  Chapter 10

  May 1824

  The ice was out.

  The trappers were back.

  Had August made good his promises?

  Jordan and Lucretia had married just before Christmas. Although their happiness pleased Jane, being constantly around the cooing lovers grated on her nerves. She felt like a servant in her brother’s home, sleeping in the loft, trying to make herself small and scarce. And now, Lucretia was in the family way.

  Even if August never returned, Jane
knew she must find another place to live.

  Mr. Henderson pushed away from the table and sighed. “The man who marries you, Miss Douglas, will never need to hire a cook,” he said, wiping his mustache with a napkin. “An excellent meal, as always.”

  She smiled briefly. “Thank you, sir.”

  He cleared his throat. “And now, I should like a word with you alone, my dear, if your brother will allow it?” He lifted his brows toward Jordan.

  “Certainly, sir.” Jordan sounded eager. “You may take the sitting room.” He smiled at Jane and lifted one brow.

  Henderson rose and bowed, indicating that Jane should lead the way. As the sitting room door closed behind them, a dreadful certainty entered her heart. She wanted to spare Mr. Henderson the humiliation of her refusal but could not think how to prevent his declaration in a way that wouldn’t seem presumptuous.

  He claimed her hands. “Miss Douglas—Jane, I believe you must know what I wish to say.” His blue eyes glimmered. “When my wife died, I thought my heart died with her. But your Christlike spirit and generous heart caught my attention as soon as we met. Please accept my proposal of marriage and make me the happiest of men.”

  Jane studied his handsome face and his dark hair frosted with gray at the temples. “I cannot accept, sir, although I deeply appreciate the honor of your proposal.”

  Startled hurt flickered across his eyes. “Why ever not?”

  “You must know that I think of Lucretia as my sister; we are nearly of the same age.” This seemed kinder than telling him he was old enough to be her father. She slipped her hands from his grasp. “I do not care for you as a prospective husband, Mr. Henderson, although you hold my respect as a man of God.”

  He smiled in apparent relief. “My dear Jane, respect is the basis for most happy marriages. The difference in our ages is not insurmountable. I am just turned fifty, and I am in excellent health. I hope you do not find me hideous?” His expression revealed confidence in his own appeal.

  “Certainly not, sir, but neither do I wish to marry you.”

  The first Mrs. Henderson had been short and exceedingly plump, judging by her portrait displayed in the Henderson parlor, but Jane knew that if she were to accept Mr. Henderson’s proposal she would never escape the woman’s long shadow. Why would any woman wish to succeed the perfect wife?

  Worse yet, she would become Lucretia’s stepmother, and her children would be Lucretia’s brothers and sisters.

  Mr. Henderson assumed a patient tone. “I know that your brother would never consider you a burden; nevertheless, his house is not large, and when the children begin to arrive …”

  “Actually, I have received another proposal of marriage.”

  He blinked in surprise. “Indeed? Might I ask the identity of my rival? I have never seen you in the company of another man. Is your brother aware of this?”

  She flushed. “My brother is unaware. Circumstances … uh, compelled us to wait before … um, finalizing … things.”

  “Circumstances?”

  “Yes. Finances and … and such.”

  “Yet he has declared himself to you.”

  “He has.”

  “A Christian man?”

  “I would never consider the proposal if he were not.”

  Mr. Henderson paced across the room and gazed out the window at the lake’s silvery surface. “And you prefer this man to me?”

  Jane stood mute.

  “I suppose he is young, handsome, exciting. Jane, consider your future.”

  “I do consider my future, sir, which is why he has gone away for a time.”

  Turning, he lifted his aristocratic chin and studied her for an interminable moment. “Is this man mature enough to appreciate your gentle spirit, or does he focus on your aptitude for hard work?”

  Jane concealed her indignation. “I believe he loves me for myself, not for my abilities.”

  Henderson’s eyes narrowed. “Is the man a new believer?”

  “Relatively new, but he is maturing quickly in the faith. Already he is doing the Lord’s work.”

  “Did you encourage him to attend church before he accepted the faith?”

  “I did.”

  Mr. Henderson’s jaw clenched. A strange expression flashed across his usually serene countenance. “Durant.”

  “Yes, sir.” A feeling of pride welled up in her heart. “Please don’t tell Jordan or anyone else.”

  Mr. Henderson’s eyes studied the floor as if reading a message there. “Assuredly, I will tell no one.”

  Chapter 11

  Durant, you’re back!” Quick footsteps descended the wooden stairs of the American Fur Company’s island headquarters. Henderson approached between stacks of pelts—mink, otter, fox, bobcat, ermine, fisher, beaver, marten, skunk. The older man’s hearty handshake lifted Durant’s spirits. “Good to see you, young man. Such stories I’ve heard about your exploits! I confess I’m surprised to see you here this spring.”

  The clerk on the other side of the counter from Durant observed this greeting wide-eyed.

  “It’s good to see you, too, sir,” Durant answered. Surprised? Something rang false here. “I was just telling your clerk here that I’ve come about the position with the Company.”

  Mr. Henderson lifted his brows.

  “We discussed it last fall,” Durant prompted.

  Mr. Henderson still looked politely blank. “What position?”

  Durant inhaled the familiar, musky scent of furs and rested one hand on the rough-hewn countertop. “You advised me to apply for a position upon my return to the island this spring, so I’ve come.”

  Concern and regret filled the older man’s face. “My dear fellow, when you failed to apply last autumn, I assumed you had changed your mind. We’ve already hired Orford here to the position.” He clicked his teeth.

  “I tried to tell him that, sir,” the rabbit-faced clerk said hastily, “but he insisted you had a job for him.”

  “I’m terribly sorry, Durant. I’m sure you’ll find something else. The Lord will provide for His own.” Henderson placed a consoling hand on Durant’s arm. “I should think you could eke out a living with your trapping.”

  The bottom slowly dropped out of Durant’s world. “You have nothing else, sir? In the storerooms? Supply? Transportation? I’d do anything.”

  “Nothing on the island. You might try one of the mainland posts.”

  “I see.” Pride sustained his calm front. “Reckon I’d best be looking elsewhere. I won’t take up your time.” He backed up a step. “You’re well, sir? And your family?”

  “Healthy as a horse myself, and Lucretia will make me a grandfather next winter.” Henderson’s voice held an unusual edge. “But then I plan to start a new family of my own. You may already have heard. I’ve proposed marriage to a worthy woman, a Miss Douglas.”

  Durant concealed his reaction. “Miss Douglas?”

  “Yes, the sister of an officer at the fort. You might remember her from church. Fine figure of a woman. Intelligent. Hardworking. Silken hair with auburn highlights, soft brown eyes. I never thought I could love again, but I confess myself a lost man.” Henderson chuckled softly.

  “And she has accepted?” Durant’s voice cracked. Dread crawled through his bones.

  “An autumn wedding, I believe. We’ll be certain to invite you and all the other trappers and natives who still attend church. My bride shares my compassion for the heathen.”

  “She promised to marry you?”

  His teeth clicked again. “Am I not blessed by the Lord? Until Sunday, Durant. And again, my deepest apologies for the misunderstanding.”

  On the open shore, Durant perched on a rock, carefully set his fancy beaver hat in a safe place, and stared out at the lake, which was gray beneath cloudy skies. A moist breeze ruffled his hair.

  Empty dreams crashed around his feet. Raging jealousy licked at his heart. In his imagination, he wrung Henderson’s scrawny neck until that gloating smile disappeared. “
He knew it, God,” he roared, shaking his fist at the sky. “He knew I hoped to marry Jane. That old man stole her from me and rubbed my face in it. Him and his stinking money.”

  A flock of Canada geese took flight from the shore in a thunder of wings, then settled out on the lake, still honking their outrage.

  Durant wanted to break something, smash something. He wanted to get roaring drunk and forget. But then he would wake up sober and remember worse than ever. That cycle ended nowhere; he knew it well.

  “All my hard work over the winter, Lord, was it for nothing? If I sell my pelts, I’ll have cash enough to build a house, but without Jane, it means nothing.”

  That fatal conversation spun through his mind once more. Tears scalded his cheeks. Silken hair. Soft brown eyes. His fists pounded his thighs. Once or twice, he had glimpsed a softness in Jane’s eyes when he unexpectedly met her gaze, but usually her expression was mildly disapproving. Would he ever be man enough to please her? Would he have an opportunity to try?

  “And she has accepted?”

  Henderson had avoided answering a direct question not once, but twice.

  Durant’s head popped up. Certainty filled him. She hasn’t accepted him yet. She hasn’t accepted either of us yet. She promised to wait a year, and she won’t break her promise. Not Jane.

  Inspired with fresh hope, he gave a shout that rumbled out across the waters. Three months he had to reach his goal, to gain her respect. “Whatever You will, Lord, I’ll do it. But … the only thing I know is furs.”

  Hearing a step on the gravel, he turned. A burly trapper and a middle-aged Métis man gazed at him. “Uh, you all right, Durant?”

  “Hello, McNaughton.”

  “We trailed you out of town.”

  “It’s good to see you again.” Durant shook his former enemy’s hand. “I don’t know your friend.”

  “This is John Wildcat. He’s a fisherman.”

  Durant greeted the stranger respectfully.

  McNaughton’s ugly face glistened with sweat. “We followed because word has got around that you had a good year on the trapline, and I—we—was hoping you might want to invest in a business proposition. I know you and me ain’t been friendly in the past, but God changed that. I can’t think of a man I’d rather do business with besides you, and Wildcat agrees with me. He ain’t a believer yet, but he listens. I figure you can convince him about Jesus Christ if anyone can.”