by Emily Woods
Marigold was flustered. She took a seat at one of the chairs behind her, sighing heavily. “About three years ago, when I was just seventeen, my father welcomed a new family into town. The Morrisons. They were a rather large family, expanding the population size of the town by almost twice the original number. Some of them stayed here in Bear Springs, and a few other couples and their kids moved south to Ellisburg. An older boy, named Johnathon, stayed with his aunt and uncle, the Mr. and Mrs. Morrison you know. He wished to help them get their ranch established before following his parents and younger siblings.
“He was a rather handsome man and very kind to me. One afternoon, he showed up at our home with a bouquet of wildflowers for me. We spent the afternoon talking on the porch, and he asked me, very gentlemanly, if I was betrothed to anyone. I was not, and so he asked if he could possibly court me. I told him that was something we would need to take up with my father.”
She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Well. My father was so outraged that he chased the poor boy out of the town. Not immediately, mind you. But he pressured him and hounded him and mortified him in such a way that he came to me one day and apologized, saying he didn’t think it was meant to be.
“I was crushed, of course. I had never been more humiliated in my life. Father insisted he was not good enough for me and that he was doing me a favor. The whole town saw what happened, but wrote it off as fatherly affection and that I was too young to marry, anyway. But that didn’t stop them from whispering about my cousin Henrietta when she wasn’t married by the time she was eighteen …
“Father means well, I believe that. But he is too hasty to stand in the way of my happiness. He can only think of himself, and I refuse to allow him to do that this time.”
Somehow, after the conversation he had with her father that afternoon, he wasn’t surprised he had scared the poor boy so much.
“I believe the same process is beginning with me,” James said. “His entire attitude toward me had changed. He was angry, cutting. It was as if I was a stranger …” Retelling the story genuinely bothered him. “I’ve really come to respect your father. He’s a good man. Which was why I was so surprised. And after telling me my primary duty here in town was to be the doctor, he told me that if I continued to pursue a relationship with you, he would personally kick me out of the town.”
Marigold’s face fell, and she bristled. “That … that is unbelievable!” she cried. She stood to her feet and began pacing about the room. “Who is he to think he can put that sort of ultimatum on you? It’s unthinkable! It’s preposterous!”
She stopped her pacing and turned to face James, who was still seated.
“I am going to march right home and tell Father I wish to be with you, and there is nothing he can do about it.”
“Now, let’s think this through,” James replied, getting to his feet, his heart thundering madly against his chest. “We need to be cautious here. I don’t doubt your father will do everything in his power to ensure my departure if you do that. We need to consider this from all sides, be patient, and discern the best way forward.”
“Are you frightened, Mr. Connor?” she replied, her cheeks growing pink. “Is my father’s opinion more important to you than the relationship between us?”
When she said it out loud, it struck him just how great a dilemma they were in. She was standing there in front of him, ready to write off her own father for a man, and James was willing to sit back and wait it out?
Was he mad? Had he entirely lost his mind?
This was real, he realized. All of this. His feelings for her. Her feelings for him. It was real, raw, and at the surface.
“I am not frightened,” he finally said, crossing the room to her. It took him a moment, but he was able to coax her hands from around herself and into his own. Her skin was so soft that it made his heart hurt. “I am not frightened,” he repeated, for her as well as for himself. “But there are a lot of feelings here that are new. I do not deny them for you; I am very fond of you. But your father is your father, and he does have a say in who you can marry.”
“He most certainly does not,” Marigold said. “He cannot lock me away in a closet in order to prevent me from seeing you.”
“No, but do you really wish to start a life together where your father hates me? Hasn’t given me a chance? Could you truly live that sort of life?”
Marigold’s eyes welled with tears, her brow furrowing. She set her jaw.
“I am having a hard time understanding why you are choosing my father’s opinion over my own,” she said sadly.
James was starting to panic. “No, Marigold. I’m not.”
“Then what are you saying?” she asked, growing more frantic. Tears splashed down onto her cheeks.
He felt wretched.
“I am saying we really should think about this. Pray about it. Really attempt to find the most peaceful way forward.”
Marigold burst into tears and pushed James aside. She snatched her lantern, still dancing merrily on the desktop beside him, and rushed out of the door and into the night.
James stood there, watching her flee, realizing he had made a very grave mistake indeed.
Chapter 4
The night seemed long for James. He tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable, peaceful position. When he finally did sleep, he woke with a kink in his neck, a sore back, and a throbbing head.
He rose before the sun, brewed himself a cup of hot tea, and went outside. Dragging his rocking chair around the back of the clinic, he sat in the darkness alone. The hot tea warmed his hands, but did nothing to warm his soul.
The first gray light of dawn appeared over the horizon, streaking across the clouds. It was sort of gloomy. James wished it would allow him to stay in the shadows. He wasn’t ready to face the day. Not yet.
He set his teacup down, stood to his feet, and began to walk. It would be some time before anyone showed up at the clinic, so he would use that time to help get himself ready.
His boots scraped across the dirt, the only sound aside from the wind whistling through the tall grass.
“Lord …” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel at a complete loss for what to do. The last day has been … difficult to say the least. Mr. Langston … I had no idea he would be so against Marigold and I having a relationship.”
He kicked at a stone, sending it cascading into a bush along the walking path.
He came to a tree, one of the few on the plain, it’s branches reaching up into the sky as if in praise. He wanted to find a reason for praise, but was finding it rather difficult given his circumstances.
“It was never my intention to upset him, nor to put Marigold in a compromising situation. I have nothing but the utmost respect for her. I would never do anything to hurt her …”
He leaned against the tree. Sometimes, when he was near to nature, it helped him to feel closer to the Lord. It was His creation, after all. It helped him to remember he was an insignificant speck in the universe, and yet he was greatly loved by the Creator.
“And Mr. Langston …” he went on, his eyes combing the horizon. The light there was growing brighter, more golds and coppers mingled with the soft gray. “He is a good man. I must force myself to remember that. He has been kind to me ever since I arrived. Helpful. Supportive. Which is why his sudden change of heart has felt like a personal attack. Is it his love for Marigold that is causing him to act this way? Or was this really what he thought about me from the very beginning?”
He sighed heavily, a tightness in his throat.
“It’s hard not to feel unworthy when someone treats you that way …” he said. “I have given this little town my heart and soul. I have done nothing wrong except care for a beautiful woman … who cares for me as well.”
His heart burned in his chest, a flooding of joy, excitement, and adoration.
He smiled despite his distress.
“I do believe I have fallen in love with her …” he
said, and to say it out loud was like a key in a lock. He had opened a part of himself that he didn’t think he would ever be able to close away.
He realized he was in love with Marigold in a way he never was with Tessa, his fiancée from when he was living in New York. Her parents had been horrible to her, as well as to him. They didn’t care at all for what either of them wanted; all they had cared about was money. James’s family was a very wealthy one, and he had known many people would do whatever they could do become a part of it. Her parents simply had no qualms having their intentions out in the open.
But Tessa had been a kind soul. Very quiet. A gentle spirit. James had believed he would have been happy with her. She had revealed to him that she was in love with another man her parents did not approve of, and James had agreed to call off the engagement so that she could be with the man she really loved.
He had never regretted the action, but had always wondered if he would be able to find someone he cared about.
Then along came Marigold.
Everything with her had been so pure, so real. It had happened very naturally, their relationship. Conversations and common interests. She was a beautiful woman. Friendly. A heart for those in need. James knew from the very beginning she was a wonderful companion, a prize friend.
His affection for her had grown without help, without effort. It needed no coaxing, no convincing. No second guessing. Like a flower blossoming in the spring, his love grew as she showered him with kindness and gentleness. Her laughter was like sunlight. Her dreams and concerns like a much needed rain shower.
“It should be so simple …” he prayed, his heart heavy. “Mr. Langston reminded me of the most important thing about my staying here in Bear Springs. My duty is to these people, my patients, first and foremost. Has becoming wrapped up in Marigold stolen some of my attention away? Have I been unfaithful?”
He licked his lips and watched the horizon; the reds of dawn were glowing there now, washing the whole world in its light.
“I want to honor the agreement I made to the people of this town. I am their doctor, their provider of help when their health is in question. I take this very seriously. I also recognize the fact that Marigold’s father is the mayor of this wonderful town. He has complete power over me. None will stand in his way if he so chooses to ask me to leave …”
Part of him wished that people would stand up to Mr. Langston on his behalf, but he could never ask anyone to do that. It wouldn’t be fair to them. At his word, James could be told to pack up his things, leave the town, and never see Marigold again. It would be easy for him to find a replacement doctor. The people in town may not like his decision, but he was the one in charge.
The sun broke over the horizon, and James squinted against the brilliant, golden light.
“So much like Marigold’s hair …” he murmured, his stomach dropping.
He didn’t have much time left before he should be at the clinic. He suspected Mr. Langston would be in to check on him to ensure he wasn’t off with Marigold somewhere.
Deep down, his pride writhed. He was a grown man, not a child. Mr. Langston should have no more power over him than anyone else in the town. Who was he to think he could control him?
But he would never actually believe that or act on it. His flesh may have been rebelling to the idea, may have been infuriated about the way that Mr. Langston was treating him, but he wanted to be more honorable.
He wandered across the street to the saloon, hoping Marv was there for a quick spot of breakfast before he began his work day. To his relief he was there, as always, behind the counter.
Mr. Morrison was there as well, seated at the bar further down, already polishing off a bowl of warm porridge.
James’s stomach gave a great lurch of hunger.
“Good morning, Mr. Connor,” Marv said, already pulling a clean, tall glass from underneath the counter and placing it down on the smooth wooden surface. “Care for some breakfast?”
“That would be wonderful,” James said.
“What’ll it be?” he asked, his moustache twitching as he smiled.
“Something hearty and filling,” James replied. “I didn’t sleep all that well last night.”
“A cup of hot tea as well then,” Marv said, and he moved away toward the kitchen.
James was pleased when he returned in just a few minutes time with a large bowl of porridge, a large hunk of bread, some roasted chicken, and some parsnips. He didn’t wait before digging in.
Marv leaned against the counter, watching James skeptically as he poured his hot tea into his copper mug.
“Something bothering you to keep you half the night?” Marv asked. “You’ve got these great dark circles under your eyes.”
The chicken was salty and hot, the porridge creamy and slightly sweet from the currants mixed in. It was bringing him some comfort to fill his belly, but it wasn’t enough to reach his heart yet.
He swallowed, took a great gulp of his tea, and then sighed.
“Does it have anything to do with what you came in here asking me about yesterday?” Marv asked, lowering his voice so Mr. Morrison couldn’t hear. “About Mayor Langston and his girls?”
James looked up into Marv’s face, realized he could either choose to ignore the help or embrace it, and then nodded his head.
An understanding smile passed over Marv’s face, and he nodded. “Thought so. Those sorts of questions don’t come from nowhere,” he said. “I take it you and he finally came to a head about Marigold, eh?”
James’s face flushed. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to anyone who’s been paying attention,” Marv said, giving James a wink. Then his face fell slightly. “Now, you listen here, Mr. Connor. Mr. Langston is very protective of his girls. Every single one of them. Almost to a fault. But Marigold … she holds a special place in his heart.”
If Marv was trying to help him feel better, James didn’t feel this was the best way to do so.
“Anyone who has eyes has seen the way the two of you are around each other. I’m sure Mr. Langston has seen it too, but just chose to ignore it until it became a problem, right? Well. Your choice to spend some quality time with his daughter must have qualified – ”
James must have looked as crestfallen as he felt, because Marv shook his head.
“ – Don’t worry, lad. Not everyone knows. I only know anything because Mrs. Green and my wife are closer than sisters. Tell each other everything. Now, listen to me. I want you to hear me on this, all right? This is very important.”
James leaned forward, eager more than ever to be helped in this situation.
“You should not take Mr. Langston too seriously …” Marv said slowly.
“Not take him seriously?” James replied, aghast. “Marv, he threatened to kick me out of town if I didn’t stop pursuing Marigold. And according to Marigold, he has made good on that promise in the past!”
Marv glanced over at Mr. Morrison with concern, and James realized with horror that it was Mr. Morrison’s nephew who had been tossed out.
“Sorry …” he whispered, guilt bubbling up.
Marv shook his head. “You have to understand that Mr. Langston is a lot of bark and not a lot of bite.” He held up his hands when James attempted to protest. “I didn’t say no bite. But if you ask me, that lad was no good for Marigold anyway. Don’t tell her, but I heard a rumor he had been pursuing Mr. and Mrs. Green’s niece until he discovered she lived east of here, and then he moved immediately on to Marigold. Flighty. Guess he married another young woman not long after he moved back in with his folks.”
James sighed. Poor Marigold. It would have crushed her to know that.
“Ain’t nothing wrong with marriage so quick,” Marv said. “But it makes you question where his intentions are if he can profess his love to so many in such a short span of time.” He sighed. “The other thing you should know,” Marv went on, spooning some more melted butter on James’s chicken, who did not stop him, �
�is that Mr. Langston is so protective of her because of an accident she was in when she was very young.”
James froze and stared up at Marv. “Accident?”
Marv nodded. “You see, I’ve known the Langston family for many years. They were with me when we moved out here. We were the first families to establish Bear Springs. Came all the way out here together from Pennsylvania. Prospect of land and freedom. Marigold was his firstborn, and she was a spirited little girl. Always getting into things that she shouldn’t.”
James smiled. He could see that of her.
“It was mid-summer, much like now, when she was struck by the hoof of one of the horses she was trying to play with. Horrible, bloody wound on her head. Bless her heart; she doesn’t remember a lick of it. And the scar would be under her hair. She probably doesn’t even know it’s there …” he sighed. “Mr. Langston decided to not tell her about the accident, thinking it would do her no good to know in the first place, but also so that she didn’t think he was too soft on her or treated her too delicately. You know Marigold well enough by now to know she wouldn’t take kindly to that. But because of all that, it’s also why he hasn’t allowed anyone to get too close to her.”
James allowed it all to sink in for a moment, pushing around the parsnips on his plate.
“Why are you telling me all of this?” James asked quietly.
Marv used the rag in his hands to wipe down the counter in front of him and shrugged his shoulders. “You know, I think it is about time that Mr. Langston allowed his daughter to grow up and be happy. You seem like a very nice young man, Mr. Connor. You are skilled and honest. You know your stuff. We have been blessed as a community to have you here. Even if Mr. Langston is grouchy right now, he believes that, too. Believe me.”
It was a small comfort to know that deep down, James thought.
“There is no sense in keeping that girl under lock and key when a perfectly wonderful gentleman was so interested in her. Someone who would be a good fit for her.”
