by E. E. Burke
“I mean she’s gone.” He might as well tell his sister the truth. “I let her go.”
Maggie grabbed his arm and jerked him around to face her. “What did you say to her?”
David resisted the urge to take hold of his sister and shake her, tell her this was as much her fault as his. That wouldn’t accomplish anything except to drive a wedge between them, and he didn’t want or need the extra tension.
“The truth. That you posted the ad and wrote the letters and I had nothing to do with it until the day she arrived. She was understandably upset.” He didn’t add that the last straw was his refusal to assure Victoria of his love. That was between him and Victoria and no one else.
His sister began to shake her head about halfway through his curt explanation. “Why in the name of St. Michael would you do that? You didn’t have to tell her. I would’ve kept our secret.”
“It’s not our secret.” He lost the battle with his temper and exploded. “I can’t live a lie, Maggie. She’d find out sooner or later and it’s best she found out sooner.”
He went to the back and grabbed his apron. “Just let it be. You’ve done enough. She’s made her choice.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, she hasn’t chosen to leave.” Maggie’s tone reached a shrill note. “She only said she was going for a walk.”
“She just went into Sumner’s…with the owner.”
Maggie rushed to the front window. “Maybe she just wants to see how the store is laid out. She mentioned being curious about it. I’m sure she’ll be back before we open.”
He wasn’t so sure. Not after he let her think he couldn’t love her.
The tenuous hold he had on his emotions slipped. David splayed his hands on the counter and hung his head, fighting tears. Victoria wasn’t to blame. She’d come out here believing in him, had willingly come to him with open arms and an open heart, and he had betrayed her in ways he’d never betrayed Rachel. It was no wonder if she despised him.
“I’ll sweep the walk,” Maggie offered. So she could watch for Victoria, no doubt.
He drew a deep breath. Let it out. Regained his composure. He couldn’t fall apart. The store would open soon, and he had his daughter to think about.
Fannie had wandered over to the Christmas tree. She hugged the doll Victoria had given her. Every night, he had to tuck it into bed and even kiss it goodnight. That doll had become his daughter’s constant companion. Maybe because she knew it couldn’t walk away on its own.
David crossed to where she stood, lost in her own world. He loved her beyond all reason, but he hadn’t been a very good father these past two years. It was about time he started. His daughter wasn’t Victoria’s responsibility, or Maggie’s. She needed his time and attention more than she needed another mother.
He dropped onto his haunches next to her. “You did a good job decorating the tree. Would you like to have a small one upstairs? I think we could fit it in.”
Fannie accused him out of the side of her eyes. She knew it was his fault Victoria had left and she wasn’t happy about it. Even if she’d been reluctant to accept Victoria as her new mother, the two had become fond of each other.
“You want me fix things, don’t you?” He heaved a heavy sigh as he stood. “I’m not sure I can.”
The bell jangled as Maggie opened the door. She returned the broom to its usual place, and though she shot a worried glance in his direction, she didn’t say anything. He could guess what was on her mind.
“I won’t ask you to stay. Fannie can remain with me in the store, like our folks did with us, and I’ll hire a tutor.” He didn’t add that it had been a stupid idea to think marriage would solve anything. They would get along without Victoria. He’d help his daughter adjust to another person walking out of her life, and he wouldn’t put Fannie through this again.
Maggie’s troubled gaze locked with his. “Will you go after her?”
“No.”
His sister’s eyes grew sad. “I know I told you I don’t remember anything about the fire, but I do remember one thing. I remember you holding onto me. Even when the roof collapsed, you didn’t let go. You held on. Don’t let go this time, David.”
Chapter 11
Victoria sipped coffee from a steaming cup and peered over the edge. From where she sat on a stool in front of a counter, she could observe shoppers in Sumner’s Five Cent Store, and possibly deduce why it was so popular, which gave her something to focus on besides her misery. She shouldn’t have come in here. This wasn’t helping her mood at all. But while she was here, she might as well make good use of her time. Even if David didn’t want her, there was no reason she couldn’t help him by passing along whatever she learned.
Overhead, etched globes glowed brightly and the light reflected off wood floors polished to a high sheen. The aisles were free of clutter. Items placed on display were clearly marked with prices, most being a nickel or less, although there were costlier goods as well.
David had the same goods—actually it seemed he offered more—and by expanding to the building next door he could open up space and make it easier for shoppers to get inside and look around. She could help him organize merchandise. Before she left.
“Would you like more coffee?” Mr. Sumner, who’d taken a seat next to her, lifted a silver carafe. He seemed content to let clerks take care of the customers while he saw to his guest, and the customers appeared happy with the arrangement.
Not only was Sumner’s store better lit and less confusing to navigate, he also employed women. The clerks dressed in crisp white shirtwaists and black skirts. The fact that they also happened to be pretty and young might have something to do with his store’s popularity.
David didn’t need to hire pretty young women to work in his store. Men made perfectly competent clerks.
Victoria set her empty cup on the counter and gave the host a polite smile. “Thank you, I’m much warmer now. You’ve been very generous.”
“That’s what I’d like for you to think. I don’t typically find beautiful strangers on my doorstep and I couldn’t resist.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have come in for that cup of coffee. She didn’t wish for Mr. Sumner to be misled into thinking she’d come looking for him. “Your window display caught my eye.”
“Did it?” His russet eyebrows arched with interest. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Nothing I can purchase, I’m afraid.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, though I appreciate the offer.” She wouldn’t insult him by telling him his interest did nothing but increase her melancholy. The only man’s affections she wanted to attract were David’s, and he seemed determined to guard them.
Mr. Sumner reached inside his coat, withdrew a flyer and handed it to her. “Here’s a better offer. There’s a reading of Dickens’ Christmas Carol tonight. If you’d consider attending, I’d be honored to escort you.”
If only David were so persistent.
Her heart constricted in a spasm of longing and regret. David hadn’t been the one to walk out. He had pledged his life to her, whether or not he’d spoken the words she wanted to hear. She in turn had promised fidelity. Yet, moments ago she’d been ready to abandon him because he couldn’t give her the kind of love she wanted. How could she demand love when she wasn’t willing to give it?
Love was patient and kind, longsuffering and hopeful. Love honored its vows, even if it didn’t get its own way. If she turned her back on David, she didn’t deserve those things she had hoped for, because love, true love, didn’t give up.
With a polite smile, she returned the flyer. “I’m very sorry if I’ve misled you, sir. I am promised to Mr. O’Brien.”
“Indeed? I must say that comes as a surprise.” Mr. Sumner folded the paper, and his smile turned wry. “Scrooge is a lucky man.”
Scrooge? The name did fit insofar as David being miserly and up until lately not having much Christmas cheer. But if someone as hardhearted as
Scrooge could change, so could David. He just needed an angel to show him the way back to his true self. And hadn’t he called her a perfect angel?
She set down the cup. “Thank you for your well wishes. I do look forward to being Mrs. Scrooge. Now, I need to get back.”
“Yes, you do.” A shadow fell across the counter.
Victoria’s heart leapt with joy even before she looked up. David hadn’t let her go. He’d come after her.
He looked windblown without his hat. He’d forgotten his overcoat, as well. His dark eyes flashed with anger, which was directed at his competitor. When he looked at her, his gaze turned anxious. “Come home, Victoria.”
Her home was with him, that’s what he was saying. What her heart already knew.
“O’Brien.” Mr. Sumner greeted his guest without enthusiasm. “Seems I stumbled across your bride-to-be. Did you notice she’d gone missing?”
The jab wasn’t amusing, even if it was meant to be.
“Don’t be ridiculous. David knew I went out for a short walk.” Victoria slid off the stool, smiling at her husband. She had no intention of embarrassing him, and had she been thinking more clearly, wouldn’t have ventured inside his competitor’s store without him. “Mr. Sumner was kind enough to offer me a cup of coffee.”
David secured her arm firmly through his, addressing the other man in a flat tone. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
“Anytime.” Mr. Sumner turned to her and dipped his chin. “Good luck to you, Mrs. Scrooge.” He touched his forehead in what looked like a salute and strolled away.
“What was that about,” David grumbled.
She shrugged. “Maybe he thought I had a part in tonight’s reading of Mr. Dickens’ Christmas story.”
“Scrooge wasn’t married.”
“No? Mr. Sumner must not know his literature.”
David circled his arm around her, a possessive gesture that thrilled her. He guided her past shoppers and out the door. Wagons and buggies lined up along hitching rails on both sides of the street. Women bundled in coats and capes crowded the sidewalks. Men on horseback thronged the street. Despite the cold, more people were out shopping the closer it was to Christmas.
She huddled against David to share her warmth. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I didn’t intend to remain gone for so long.”
“Did you intend to go to Sumner’s?”
His bland tone didn’t fool her. He hadn’t been happy about where she’d stopped. If fact, he couldn’t get her across the street fast enough.
“Mr. Sumner offered me a cup of coffee to warm up, and I was cold, so I accepted. I’ve always been curious as to why his store is popular.” She’d made a mental list of improvements they could make, which wouldn’t include pretty clerks.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” David’s set expression made it appear he was braced for some bad news. He assisted her up to the sidewalk in front of his store, and then turned her to look at him.
Her heart constricted. She couldn’t be angry with him for having doubts after she’d walked out without a word. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but not out here. When they went inside where it was warm, she would explain a few things about love. Better yet, she’d show him. “You should know, Mr. O’Brien, I won’t find what I desire there.”
* * *
David didn’t get the chance to ask Victoria if she might find what she desired with him because Mrs. Robinson and her daughter stopped to offer greetings.
“Merry Christmas Mr. O’Brien, and to you, Miss Lowell,” said the elder of the two.
The younger woman peered through the window from beneath a fur-trimmed hood. “Oh mother, look. What a lovely Christmas tree.”
“Victoria’s idea,” David bragged, and wrapped his arm around her waist. She’d done more than bring Christmas into his store, she had brought hope back into his life, and he wasn’t letting her take it away.
“Any of the ornaments on the tree you may purchase,” Victoria told the two women. His wife was a natural at sales. She was, as Maggie had promised, perfect.
“We’ll be sure to take a look,” Mrs. Robinson said. “Come along, Nancy.”
A frigid gust swirled down the sidewalk. The two women pulled their cloaks tight and hurried into the store. David clamped his teeth together, the cold cut right through him because he’d forgotten his coat in his rush to get to Victoria. The fact was, he loved her, and keeping silent about it wouldn’t change that, no more than his daughter’s silence would change the past. They had both been silent for too long.
Victoria hugged his arm. “Let’s go inside with the others.”
“Not before I tell you—”
Fannie scampered outside. She threw her arms around Victoria’s waist, and clung to her like she’d never let go. Victoria’s surprised expression became tender, regretful. She put an arm around Fannie.
“Were you afraid I wasn’t coming back?”
“She was. So was I.” He’d been terrified. On top of that, angry enough to spit nails. When he’d barged into Sumner’s store and saw her having coffee with the owner, it had taken every ounce of willpower not to grab Sumner by his shiny black coat, drag him off the stool and beat him to a bloody pulp.
Victoria gazed at him and her eyes spoke for her. She understood his fears, and loved him in spite of them. He’d been an idiot to think he could resist loving her.
Fannie raised her hand, stared at it, apparently trying to think of how to sign something. Then she looked straight at Victoria. “How do you say I’m sorry?”
Good God. She’d spoken.
David was so stunned to hear his daughter’s voice, he couldn’t think of what to say. Victoria appeared just as astonished.
“Fannie?” he said, when he found his voice. He knelt before her and gently grasped her hands, and then it hit him what she’d said, the first words out of her mouth in two years, and it broke his heart. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”
His daughter nodded solemnly. “You’re sorry, too. Tell her, Dada.”
She’d started called him “dada” when she was tiny, and he’d point to himself and say, “Da.” By the time she was two, she’d been chattering all the time. She was so smart, and she was right. Still on one knee, he turned his attention to Victoria. “How do you say, I’m sorry?”
Victoria’s eyes glistened with tears. She formed a fist and made a circle over her chest. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.
He gestured. “I’m sorrier.”
Her lips twitched into a smile. “That’s not a word.”
“It’s an apology.”
“Are you coming back?” Fannie’s voice still surprised him. Lilting, clear, as if she’d never stopped talking.
Victoria bent down, hugged Fannie and kissed her cheek. “Yes, dear.”
“And you won’t be leaving,” he added, and then waited, anxious for her confirmation.
Victoria’s cheeks turned bright pink. Could be because he’d put her on the spot, or it might be the cold, or due to the audience they’d attracted. A gaggle of women looked on from a few feet away. Two old farmers hitched their rigs with more slowness than could be accounted for on a frigid day. Everyone appeared to be waiting on Victoria’s response.
“We’re handfasted, David. Pledged to each other,” she said loud enough for all to hear. “I seem to recall you said forever.”
He shot to his feet and dragged her into his arms. “Mo chroí. I should’ve told you before, I love you.”
She hugged him. “And I love you, my darling.”
“Me, too. I love you, too!” Fannie pressed into his side. He drew her up against him, and Victoria put her arm around his daughter’s shoulders, bringing her into their circle. If possible, he loved his bride even more.
Victoria had brought him and his daughter out of a dark place where they’d retreated, back into the light. Now they would become a family, and God willing more children would
follow.
A few claps sounded, and then the applause swelled. There were a few hoots, as well.
Maggie had slipped out the door and stood nearby, with her arms crossed over her chest and wearing a big smile. “My, my…you three are putting on quite a show.”
David glanced around at the growing crowd. He could care less if everyone in town knew he loved Victoria. In fact, he’d hang a sign. “We should charge an admission.”
“Or invite everyone in for cider,” Victoria suggested.
“Better idea.” He made wide, welcoming gesture. “Come on in, everyone. Join me in a toast to my bride, Victoria.”
Chapter 12
December 26th, 1890
My dearest Victoria,
I am so happy that you have found love with your Mr. O’Brien. He sounds exactly like what you wanted in a husband. I wish I could answer the question from your letter about cows, but I am married to a lumber baron, so I have no idea about milking cows. Perhaps one of the other women would know. I have heard from many of them, but not all. There are a few I fret about, but I pray for all of them daily.
I too am glad that we met, even under unfortunate circumstances. I will always be grateful to the helping hand you offered so many of us, and I appreciate everything you did for the women displaced by that factory fire. So many of us found a way out of the situation as a mail-order bride, but many stayed back East.
You will never believe who lives near me, my sweet friend and roommate, Sarah. I believed we would be a day’s train ride apart, and instead we’re a fifteen-minute boat ride from one another. It is nothing short of a miracle, and I thank God every day that he sent Sarah to Minnesota to marry my husband’s brother.
At the time I’m penning this letter, your wedding has already taken place, so I wish you the best in your life as a new mother and wife. I pray that Fannie will start speaking again as she learns to love you for your warm and generous heart.
All my love,
Roberta
December 27th, 1890
