Autumn's Angel

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  Grand Coeur, she’d learned, was close to five thousand feet above sea level. Luvena could tell the difference between here and where she’d lived her entire life. The air was thinner and drier. Not better or worse. Just different.

  After walking a long while, they caught sight of a stream running through a draw far below them. Two men stood in the water. They were bent over, and each held something between his hands.

  Ethan said, “I think they’re panning for gold.”

  “I believe you’re right,” Luvena answered.

  Their voices must have carried through the forest because both men straightened and looked up. Something about the miners’ posture gave Luvena the feeling they weren’t happy to be watched as they worked their claim.

  “Let’s go, children.”

  Pine needles crunched beneath their feet as they followed the trail higher and higher into the mountains. If there were more men anywhere about, Luvena didn’t see them. Now it was small forest creatures who peeked at them from branches overhead and from beneath bushes down below. A chipmunk gave them a noisy scolding for intruding upon his woods. With the sun nearing its zenith, golden light battled with the shadows for dominance.

  Ethan and Elsie raced each other to the crest of the trail. Luvena smiled as she watched them. They were well-behaved children. Considering all the upheaval they’d endured in their young lives, their happy natures were nothing short of miraculous.

  “It’s pretty, isn’t it, Aunt Vena?” Merry asked, motioning to the view of the valley below.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “I like it, though it’s different from back home.”

  Back home.

  For just an instant, Luvena imagined she caught the whiff of a sea breeze, tasted salt upon her tongue, saw white sails as boats skittered along the surface of the water, and heard the sound of laughter as her family played along the shore. Her family. Her beloved family. Her sister. Her father. Her mother. Missing them—and the sadness that came with it—hit her so hard she almost couldn’t draw breath.

  “Aunt Vena! Merry!” Ethan called. “Hurry up!”

  She lifted her gaze to the top of the rise. Her nephew waved at them, and she and Merry waved back. The action caused the intense sadness to ease. She still had family. She had Merry, Ethan, and Elsie. None of them was alone. They had one another. They would be all right. They would make a new life for themselves. They would make a new home and new memories. She wouldn’t allow fear to take root in her heart. She would embrace the future, whatever came.

  Tossing a challenging grin at her niece, she said, “Come along, Merry. I’ll race you to them.”

  Luvena held her skirts and ran as fast as she was able, but Merry caught up with her. They arrived at the top of the hill in a dead heat. Luvena sank to the ground at Elsie’s feet, mindless of the dirt, laughing between gasps for air. The children joined in, and the sound of their laughter mingled with hers was the balm she needed to chase away the last dregs of sadness.

  •••

  When Clay learned from one of his workmen that Luvena and the children had been seen walking north on Canyon Road, his first response was irritation. Hadn’t he made it clear that he preferred they all stay close to the house unless he was with them? After an hour passed, irritation became anger. But when they still hadn’t returned another hour beyond that, he grew worried. So he saddled his horse and rode into the mountains. Higher into the mountains. Deeper into the forest.

  He heard their laughter a minute before he saw them. The happy sound spilled through the forest, bouncing off trees, making it impossible to tell which way it came from. But then his horse rounded a bend in the trail and Clay followed the path with his gaze to the top of a rise. There they were, all four of them, on the ground, the younger two rolling about.

  He forgot why he’d been irritated, angry, and worried. Now all he wanted was to join them. To feel as carefree as they sounded. Clay nudged the gelding with the heels of his boots and rode toward them.

  Merry was the first to see Clay. She poked her aunt’s arm. Luvena’s smile vanished along with her laughter as she got to her feet, followed moments later by all the children.

  Drawing close, Clay reined in. “I didn’t think I’d have to ride this far up to find you.” He leaned a forearm on the pommel of the saddle. “You shouldn’t be out here without an escort, Miss Abbott. None of you should.”

  “Surely we are safe in the middle of the day. There are four of us, after all.”

  There were stories he could have told her about mining camps throughout the West and the wicked things dangerous men were wont to do. Stories that would make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Maybe give her nightmares. But he didn’t want to frighten her. Her or the children. Oddly enough, he wanted them to like Grand Coeur. To believe in it, the way he did, that it would one day be a good and decent place for families to put down roots.

  “You’re all going to be starved before we get back to town.” He stepped down from the saddle. “We’d better start back.”

  “I’m already starved,” Ethan said.

  Clay grinned at the boy. “Figures.”

  “Come on, Elsie.” Ethan headed down the hillside with an exuberance common to boys.

  “Ethan,” Luvena called, “don’t get out of sight. You stop and wait for us.” Looking at Clay, she said, “I hope he heard me.”

  Elsie didn’t chase after her brother. Instead, she took Merry’s hand and the sisters set off at a more sedate speed. The two adults followed in the rear, Clay leading his horse.

  “How was your meeting with Reverend Adair?” Luvena asked after several minutes of silence.

  “He was disappointed there wouldn’t be a wedding. But he understood the reasons for our change of plans.”

  Why, he wondered, did those words feel false as they left his mouth?

  Perhaps because the change of plans had been his decision and his alone. Not theirs. His. Luvena would have married him if he’d been willing. That was why she’d come to Grand Coeur.

  But he wasn’t willing. Nothing would change his mind.

  Nothing.

  Chapter Eight

  A few days later Luvena sat at the desk in Clay’s office, reading through the various letters, playbills, and advertisements he’d collected. Clay had set a date toward the end of October for the opening production of the Grand Coeur Opera House. Luvena’s task was to bring in a professional opera company or a soloist who would impress the audience and make them want to continue to patronize the theater from then on.

  Perhaps it was an impossible undertaking. It surely felt impossible as she looked at the papers spread before her. What did she know about hiring a troupe of seasoned performers? What had made her think she could handle this job? She was no expert. She’d attended theater and opera with her parents, and she’d taken lessons and appeared in one small production years ago. That was all. She didn’t know enough. She was certain to fail.

  But she had to try. She had to do her very best. Her nieces and nephew were depending on her.

  Clay’s depending on me too.

  A pleasant shudder moved through her as she pictured him in her mind. Since Saturday, when he’d come looking for her and the children in the mountains above Grand Coeur, Clay hadn’t spent a great deal of time with any of them. So she’d found herself listening for his footsteps, looking up at the slightest noise.

  Waiting for . . . something.

  Hoping for . . . something.

  In the night, when she lay awake in bed, hearing the children’s steady breathing, she could admit her disappointment. She was disappointed because Clay wouldn’t marry her. Disappointed because she wasn’t enough, because she couldn’t make him want her despite the children. Maybe she would feel better if she disliked him. If he was cruel to her or mean-tempered with Ethan and Elsie or di
smissive of Merry. If he had horrible table manners. If he was weak of mind or body. But he wasn’t any of those things. He was good and kind and handsome. He was a man of true faith. He believed in what he was doing and was willing to work hard to make it succeed.

  Releasing a sigh, Luvena forced her eyes to focus on the papers before her once again, silently ticking off what had to be accomplished—find the right singer or troupe; put together a stunning opening production; help the opera house turn a profit; earn a bonus; leave Grand Coeur; find a man who would marry her and care for the children.

  Help me, Lord!

  As if in answer to that pitiful but heartfelt prayer, her gaze fell upon a familiar name. Ada May Innsbruck. Her pulse quickened as she took up the handbill and moved it closer to the light. Ada May Innsbruck, a star of the stage, first in New York and now in San Francisco, was currently scheduling a tour of western theaters. At one time, Ada May had been a dear friend of Luvena’s sister. As far as she knew, that hadn’t changed when scandal struck the Abbott family. Perhaps Ada May didn’t even know about their tragedy. Was it possible Ada May might consider coming to Grand Coeur as one of the stops on her tour?

  Her heart continuing to race with excitement, she rose from the chair, the slip of paper still in her hand, and went looking for Clay. She found him in the lobby, overseeing the hanging of a large mirror.

  “Mr. Birch?”

  He turned.

  “I think I’ve found someone for the opening.”

  “Who?”

  “Her name is Ada May Innsbruck. She sings beautifully and is a gifted actress. Best of all, she is presently booking appearances in towns between San Francisco and Denver.” Luvena held out the handbill for him to take. “I know Ada May. I feel certain she would come if she hasn’t already filled her tour dates.”

  He read the advertisement. “Is she as good as this says?”

  “Better.” Luvena grinned. “We should telegraph her husband in San Francisco immediately. Mr. Innsbruck is Ada May’s manager.”

  “How well do you know her?”

  “Well enough. She was a good friend of my sister.”

  “Can I afford her?”

  “You won’t know unless you ask.”

  At last, Clay returned her smile. “Then let’s go send that telegram.”

  •••

  As Clay and Luvena walked toward the Wells, Fargo office, a weight seemed to fall from Clay’s shoulders. Remodeling the old Grand Theater into the new Grand Coeur Opera House had been the easy part of this endeavor. In his mind, finding the right artist to perform for the reopening was the hard part. If this Ada May Innsbruck was as good as Luvena said . . .

  He glanced to his left. And, as if sensing his look, Luvena turned her head. A smile instantly curved the corners of her mouth.

  It was going to work out. They were going to pull this off. He felt it deep in his bones. He might have told her such if they hadn’t arrived at the Wells, Fargo office just then. He opened the door, motioning for her to step inside ahead of him.

  Matthew Dubois greeted them from the other side of the counter.

  “I didn’t know you were back, Matthew,” Clay said.

  “We returned yesterday.”

  “How was the trip to Virginia?”

  “Good. Shannon enjoyed showing me where she grew up and introducing me to old friends. She loved showing off the children too. But sometimes it was difficult for her. Reminders of the war are everywhere, and many people she knew are now gone.” Matthew’s gaze shifted over Clay’s shoulder.

  “Sorry.” He turned to look at Luvena. “Miss Abbott, this is Matthew Dubois. He’s Reverend Adair’s son-in-law. Shannon’s husband. Matthew, this is Luvena Abbott.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Abbott.”

  “And you, Mr. Dubois.”

  “Delaney tells us you won’t be staying in Grand Coeur as expected. Shannon is disappointed. She remembers all too well how difficult it was for her when she came to Idaho Territory. She didn’t like Grand Coeur much at first, but she’s grown to love it. You would too.”

  “Matthew,” Clay interrupted before Luvena could respond, “we need to send a telegram.”

  “Of course.” Matthew placed paper and pencil on the counter in front of Clay.

  He, in turn, slid the items to Luvena. She hesitated a moment before taking up the pencil. Then, looking between the handbill and the telegram form, she crafted the request to Ada May Innsbruck. When finished she handed the message to Matthew. He looked it over, nodded, and moved to the desk that held the telegraph equipment.

  Clay sent up a silent prayer for a positive response from Mrs. Innsbruck. Not simply her availability and willingness to come to Grand Coeur but also that she would charge a reasonable fee.

  Matthew returned to the counter. “It’s sent. I’ll let you know when we get a reply.”

  “Thanks.” Clay paid for the telegram.

  “I hope it turns out.” Matthew’s gaze shifted to Luvena. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Abbott.”

  She nodded to him.

  “My wife will want you and Clay and your family to join us for dinner sometime soon. You can expect an invitation before long.”

  “That’s very kind, Mr. Dubois. I’ll look forward to it.”

  “. . . you and Clay and your family . . .” Matthew’s words echoed in Clay’s thoughts as he and Luvena walked back to the opera house. “. . . you and Clay and your family . . .” There was something right about the sound of it.

  But how could it sound right when he knew just how wrong it would be?

  Chapter Nine

  24 September 1870

  Mr. Melvin Hitchcock

  Proprietor, Hitching Post Mail-Order Bride Catalogue

  Dear Mr. Hitchcock,

  I am writing to advise you that someone employed by your catalogue company revised the letters I exchanged with Mr. Clay Birch of Grand Coeur, Idaho Territory. I now find that he and I are not to be married as expected because he had expressed his unwillingness to become a stepfather to any children. A crucial fact that was removed from his correspondence to me. Now, because of this, my sister’s children and I find ourselves without the home and means of support we thought were secured when we left Massachusetts.

  While Mr. Birch has not cast us out, we cannot continue to accept his charity. Therefore, I must ask that an advertisement of my own be included in your catalogue, free of charge given the circumstances. Please be certain it includes the information that I am the guardian of three children (ages eight to fourteen). I do not wish for there to be any further misunderstandings. I am writing a few other particulars regarding myself on the back of this letter and trust you will use them for an appropriate listing.

  I also trust that whoever was responsible for this interference with our letters will be summarily dismissed from your employment. That is the very least that should happen to the individual.

  Sincerely,

  Miss Luvena Abbott

  Grand Coeur, Idaho Territory

  The letter finished, Luvena blotted the ink, folded the paper, and slipped it into an envelope.

  There. Done. She should have written to the Hitching Post the very day she arrived in Grand Coeur. She should have expressed her shock and dismay over the cruel joke perpetrated upon her and Clay. Whoever was responsible, she hoped they received their just desserts.

  And now the search for a husband would begin again. It shouldn’t feel any worse than it had before, the idea of moving to a new place and marrying a stranger for the support a husband could provide. But it did feel worse.

  When she’d first considered the listings in that catalogue, she hadn’t known any unmarried men who would overlook the tragedy in her family. Nor had she known any men who made her feel the way Clay Birch made her—

  No, she wouldn�
��t think that. Clay had made up his mind the moment she’d stepped out of the stagecoach and identified Merry, Ethan, and Elsie as belonging with her. He hadn’t changed his opinion in the past nine days, nor was he likely to.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, Clay appeared in the doorway of the office, grinning broadly. “You’ve done it, Luvena!” He waved a slip of paper in the air.

  Luvena. Her name thrummed in her ears as she rose and moved to the side of the desk. “Done what?”

  “Mrs. Innsbruck has agreed to come to Grand Coeur.”

  “I’m delighted for you, Mr. Birch.” She couldn’t help but return his smile.

  “We might even draw folks up from Boise.” He closed the distance between them. “It wouldn’t have happened without your help.”

  “You would have found someone, I’m sure.”

  “Perhaps. But not someone as well known. Besides, she’s coming because of you.” He spoke the words softly, his gaze holding hers.

  Luvena’s heart leapt, and it took great resolve not to reach up and caress his cheek. Something she had no right to do. She was not his fiancée. She would never be his bride.

  The smile faded from her lips as she took a step backward and reached for the envelope on the desk. “Please excuse me. I have a letter I must post, and I’m hoping it will make today’s stage. Then I must see to the children’s lunch.”

  “Of course.” He also took a step backward. He also lost his smile.

  Good. He’d understood her subtle reminder of why he should not stand so close and why he should not call her by her Christian name. At most he was her landlord and employer. By his choice. A choice they both must live with.