“To my father!” John shouted out of nowhere. “May you have many, many more birthday celebrations!”
Mortimer frowned. John’s voice sounded a little odd and distorted in some way. Perhaps his hearing was going. That wasn’t a good sign. “Thank you, son.”
Beatrice and Toria were busy exchanging details about the baked goods they made and sold at the mercantile. They were constantly changing the numbers and types of their delicious baked goods so they could keep up with demand. The men of Creede adored their baked goods and often bought them just as quickly as they were offered.
It looked like Arthur was talking to John, but John wasn’t paying much attention. He stood up, walked to the head of the table, and threw his arms around his father. “I love you,” John said unsteadily.
Mortimer frowned. He appreciated his son’s sudden energy, but he didn’t understand where it was coming from. His son was normally very reserved with his emotions. “I love you, too, John,” Mortimer said softly. He looked at Toria for support, but Toria hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.
The servers came to refill everyone’s punch glasses. “I need more!” John called, still standing at the head of the table. “I need more!”
Mortimer looked at John’s glass. It was still half-full. Something wasn’t adding up. “Let’s get you back to your seat, son.” As Mortimer helped John back to his seat, John seemed to have trouble walking in a straight line. Mortimer waited until John was seated and then went back to his own chair. Mortimer shook his head. What in the world . . .
Just then, Patience arrived with plates of food for the table. She began setting them down one by one in front of the guests. Lydia and Robert followed closely behind with even more plates.
John leapt up from his chair once again. Mortimer winced. What was his son going to do now?
John grabbed Patience’s arm. “This is the woman I love! I love this woman! Patience, you’re the best woman I’ve ever met.” Patience froze, mortified. She couldn’t believe John was carrying on like this in front of her parents. He had been trying for so long to make a good impression, and now he was squandering all of the good will he’d built.
Toria was finally paying attention, an alarmed look on her face. She sprang to her feet and walked over to John. “Are you all right? Maybe you have a fever.”
As soon as Toria was right next to John, she knew immediately what the problem was. John was drunk! She didn’t drink herself but had previously worked for men who were big drinkers and could always identify what they were drinking based on how it smelled. Whatever John had had didn’t smell, but his cheeks were red and his eyes seemed unfocused.
Judging by what John’s breath smelled like, he had been drinking moonshine. Toria felt like she had been kicked in the stomach. John had sworn to her that he was never going to drink again, and she had believed him. And now, here he was, carrying on and making a scene in front of his future wife and her parents. The very parents she had tried to convince earlier that night that he was as sober as a judge!
John wasn’t cooperating with Toria, so she placed a hand on his arm. “I think we should take you home. You can finish celebrating with your father later when you feel better.”
To her surprise, John swatted her hand away, accidentally knocking into Patience, who spilled the hot plate she was carrying all over the front of her dress.
Patience yelped as the hot food splattered across her clothing. Lydia cried out and tried to help her daughter, but Robert just stood there. “Do something, Robert!” Lydia commanded.
Robert walked up to John. “You need to be more careful, son. You could have seriously hurt my daughter.”
John looked at Robert and drew himself up to his full height, so he was looking down at the older man. John had at least two inches on Robert. “I would never hurt your daughter. I love your daughter. I’m marrying her tomorrow!” John slurred his words and rocked from side to side, pounding his chest.
Now Mortimer understood. His son was as drunk as he had ever seen a man. Mortimer was so embarrassed by his son’s behavior that he wished he could sink into the floor and never be seen again.
If Mortimer was embarrassed, Patience was humiliated. There was no way she could marry this man. He was a drunk who had spilled hot food all over her and then had not even helped her clean it up. She couldn’t believe that he had broken his promise to her never to drink alcohol again. And in her parents’ restaurant, no less. It was clear to her that John had a drinking problem that could not be fixed by a quick courtship and marriage. He had problems she would not be able to help with.
“Come here, my bride,” John continued, reaching out for Patience.
Patience steadied herself for what she was about to say. “I’m not your bride, and I never will be, John Jackson. You’ve brought shame to me and my family. I never want to see you again!”
Patience burst into tears and ran off, shocking every person in the room into silence.
Lydia chased after her daughter and trailed her down the hallway.
Patience went into the storeroom for lack of a better idea. She had no plan or agenda. She just knew she couldn’t stand another minute in the room with John and all of the others.
Lydia held the heavy storeroom door open after Patience had passed through it and followed her daughter into the dim room. “Are you all right? What was that horrible man talking about?”
Patience could barely catch her breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Lydia walked over to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her. “There, there, dear. It will be all right.”
Patience didn’t think her mother was right about that, but she didn’t feel like getting into an argument. She also didn’t want to tell her mother about the plans she had made with John. She couldn’t believe that she had actually been ready to marry the man! She felt horrible that she had believed all of his lies about being done with drinking.
She had seen him drunk with her own two eyes, and she had hated every moment. The man she had watched throw food all over her in the restaurant was not the man she had fallen in love with. He was selfish, mean, and unaware of his surroundings. He had hurt her and embarrassed her, all at the same time.
Patience pulled away from Lydia and looked down at her blouse. There were stains all over it. She began wailing again, and Lydia hugged her close.
After a few minutes, Patience stepped out from Lydia’s embrace and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath. “Thank you, Mother. I think I need to be alone now. Is that all right?”
“Of course, dear. Don’t worry about the restaurant—we will be fine without you for a few hours. I’ll see you in the morning. Hopefully your father has already dealt with that awful man.” Lydia shook her head. The nerve of John Jackson to come into her family’s restaurant and behave in such a horrible way simply appalled her. And to think that he had tried to call her own daughter his bride! She hoped her husband had dismissed John once and for all.
Meanwhile, Mortimer paid Robert Graham for the dinner and apologized profusely for his son’s antics. Arthur and Beatrice looked on, embarrassed and sad for their friend. Beatrice comforted Sally, who had begun to cry, and Willie, who seemed scared and upset that his friend John was behaving so oddly. Toria and Mortimer dragged John into the family wagon.
Toria didn’t know if she would be able to speak, she was so angry. She was normally calm and collected, but she felt ashamed that she had stuck up for John to Patience’s parents only to have him embarrass himself and his entire family in their restaurant. Toria’s face burned with humiliation. Still, despite how mad she was, she worried about how John was.
Mortimer was silent on the trip home. He was lost in his thoughts, thinking about where he’d gone wrong. He had truly believed John was on the right track. In the past few months, John looked better and was more pleasant to be around. This seemed completely out of character.
“How are you feeling?” Toria whispered to John.
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A troubled feeling had begun to settle over John. “Why are we going home?” John felt confused and upset. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Mortimer and Toria looked at each other. Toria didn’t know how to explain to John what had happened. She worried that her words would be too harsh.
Mortimer took a deep breath. “You had a few too many drinks—and I don’t understand how because you seemed fine when we got to the restaurant—and you made a mess out of things with Patience. We had to leave to save you from further embarrassment in front of the Grahams.”
“What? That can’t be true. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in months!” John protested.
Now Toria grew even more concerned. Was there something seriously wrong with John? He was acting like he didn’t remember anything. “John—you spilled hot food all over Patience and called her your bride in front of her parents. She was so humiliated that she ran out of the room. Do you not recall any of this?”
John hung his head in shame. “I do feel very strange. Like I used to feel when I went drinking in the past. But all I had to drink tonight was punch.” He didn’t understand.
Mortimer frowned. His son had never lied to him before. Even when he was drinking, he was honest about where he had been and what he had been doing. He looked to Toria for help.
“John, lying won’t help you. You’ve made a mistake, and now you are going to face the consequences,” Toria explained. She knew her husband didn’t have the heart to be hard on his son, so she was going to have to do it.
John shook his head. “That’s the thing, though. I just don’t remember!”
They pulled up to the house. Mortimer helped Toria out of the wagon, and John followed her into the mercantile’s back entrance as Mortimer tied up the horses. They quietly walked up the stairs to the house.
Toria poured a glass of water for John and handed it to him. “Well, maybe you’ll remember in the morning. Tonight, you get a good night’s rest.”
“I have a lot of apologizing to do tomorrow before the wedding,” John said with a sigh.
“John, Patience doesn’t want to see you right now. There is no wedding,” Toria said gently.
“What do you mean?” John’s heart began pounding. “No, she can’t just give up on me, just like that!”
“I’m sorry, John,” Toria continued. “I think you need to respect Patience’s wishes and give her some time to think. I don’t think she wants to see you right now after what you did.”
John was too upset to respond. He put his hands to his head, trying to ease the pain he felt in his temples. He felt exactly like he did after an evening of heavy drinking, but how was that possible? There had to be some kind of explanation. He had heard of other men losing their memories after drinking, but that had never happened to him. He couldn’t accept the idea that the love of his life had given up on him. There had to be something he could do to make her take him back.
John went into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. Toria was right. He needed a good night’s sleep. Maybe in the morning, things would make more sense.
Chapter Eight
Patience woke up on Saturday to the sun shining and birds chirping outside her window and felt a little rush of anticipation. It was Saturday, the day she had been waiting for. The day she was to marry!
Suddenly, the events of the night before came rushing back to her. Patience felt a headache start to form in the middle of her forehead and a lump in the back of her throat. She would not be marrying John Jackson after all. Not that day, and not ever. She trusted that Toria Jackson would inform Reverend Bing, for as angry as she was with John and humiliated by the entire situation, she had confidence that Toria would do the right thing for everyone involved. It was one of the reasons she had been so excited to marry John, to join his family and have Toria as a mother-in-law.
Thinking about all she’d lost sent Patience into a fresh wave of sobbing.
Lydia knocked on the door. “May I come in, dear?”
“Not now, Mother,” Patience called. She didn’t have the heart to face anyone just yet.
“Just for a little?” Lydia persisted.
Patience sighed. “Fine, Mother, but please make it quick.”
Lydia nudged the door open and sat down next to Patience on her bed. She wiped her daughter’s tears away with her fingers. “Patience, if you keep crying like that, your skin is going to look quite wrinkly and unbecoming.”
Patience bristled. Her mother was not helping the situation. “I’d like to be alone now.”
“Patience, we gave you the evening off. We knew you were embarrassed by what happened, and that’s understandable. But it’s a new day, and you have chores to do,” Lydia explained. She couldn’t believe how upset her daughter was over Mortimer Jackson’s son. She knew from Toria’s strange speech that John had feelings for Patience, but it seemed unlikely that Patience also had feelings for John. He seemed nice enough in general, but he had a reputation for running with a bad crowd and drinking. After the previous evening’s events, Lydia had seen enough, as far as she was concerned.
“I need a little more time. I’ll do my chores later. I promise,” Patience pleaded.
Lydia sighed. “All right, Patience. As long as all your chores are done by noon, I don’t really care if you stay in here and cry the rest of the day.” Lydia stayed seated on the bed, wishing she could end her daughter’s tears. It had been so much easier when Patience was a small girl. Lydia would be able to wipe away her tears and make everything better with a kiss or hug. Now, Patience’s heartbreak was much bigger and much harder to fix.
“Please, Mother,” Patience begged.
“Fine,” Lydia said as she got up from the bed. “Remember what I said. Noon.”
Patience nodded dutifully and waited until her mother had closed the door. She slumped back down onto her bed and pulled the covers around her tightly. She didn’t feel like doing anything. All she wanted to do was stay in her room alone so she would never have to face her parents, John Jackson, or anyone else in town for a long, long time.
Just as Patience was drifting back into a peaceful sleep, there was another loud knock on her door.
“Who is it?” Patience called out, annoyed.
“It’s me,” Robert said from the other side of the door. “You have a visitor. I tried to send him away, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Patience, do I need to get the marshal involved?”
Patience’s heart raced as she realized whom her father was talking about. She hastily pulled on her undergarments and a dress and laced her boots up. She opened the door to her bedroom and pushed past her father.
Patience rushed down the stairs to the main entrance of the restaurant and found John Jackson standing at the door, looking pale and morose. His expression brightened as soon as he saw Patience.
“Patience! I am so sorry about what happened last night. I still don’t know quite what happened—”
“That’s because you were drunk,” Patience snapped.
“I know you must be angry—” John tried to continue.
“You’re darn right I’m angry. And ashamed and humiliated and mad. I thought I knew what kind of man you were, John Jackson. But instead, you’re just a drunk and a liar!”
John swallowed. He knew he’d messed up, but he had no idea Patience would be this worked up about it. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make it up to you. I’ll prove that I’m worthy of you.”
“I don’t think so, John. I told you last night I never wanted to see you again. But I guess you’ve forgotten that, too, on account of your drinking. To think that I almost got caught up in all of your lies. . . .” Patience shook her head sadly.
“I haven’t had a drink in months, Patience! You must believe me!”
Patience shook her head. John seemed like he believed his own lies, but she would not be fooled again.
“Please, Patience,” John begged. She needed to give
him another chance.
Patience slammed the door in his face. She slid down onto the floor, fighting back more tears. While she had been yelling at John, the tears had stayed away, but now that she was by herself, they threatened to downpour all over again.
Lydia rushed over to her daughter. “I can’t believe the nerve of that man. Your father said he might need to send for the marshal. Do you think we need to do that?”
Patience shook her head and dabbed at her eyes. “No, I don’t think that will be necessary.”
Lydia frowned. “Oh, Patience. Crying again? Remember what I told you about your face.”
“I remember, Mother!” Patience yelled. Suddenly, everyone and everything was making her mad. “I suppose there’s no point in putting anything off any further. I’ll start my chores now.” Patience stood up and went into the kitchen to begin her morning tasks. Although it was later than she normally completed them, she still had plenty of time before noon, when the restaurant opened for lunch.
Patience began her tasks by sweeping the floors. She pushed it back and forth across the floor, trying to forget all about John Jackson and his broken promises.
“Easy there, Patience,” Robert said as he watched her attack the floors with the broom. He hoped John Jackson wouldn’t dare to show his face at the restaurant again. If he showed up one more time to bother his daughter, Robert was going to have to take action.
Once Patience was done sweeping, she went to retrieve the mop and a bucket from the storeroom. On her way there, she kept coming back to one of the things John had said. He had acted like he didn’t know how he had ended up drunk and sworn that he hadn’t had anything to drink in months. Was there any possible way that he could be telling the truth?
“He is telling the truth, Patience,” Sarah said, suddenly appearing right in front of Patience in the storeroom.
Reforming the Rebel Page 8
