My Heart Belongs in Castle Gate, Utah

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My Heart Belongs in Castle Gate, Utah Page 5

by Dicken, Angie;


  Words lodged in her throat. Her sensibility agreed that it would be strange. Especially if she was the only American, too. Mrs. Pappas cast an eager glance her way, the woman wringing her apron and nodding enthusiastically.

  Alex did not appear so eager.

  “She is persistent, isn’t she?” Leanna whispered. “I do not want to cause your family any trouble. And I am sure it would….” She glanced up the hill where a group of miners trekked toward the mines.

  “That is what I try to tell her, but then again—” Alex stepped closer. His lips curled inward as his exasperated expression turned to one of thoughtfulness. “It is your choice, Mrs. McKee. Perhaps changed opinions start with you? The schoolteacher who not only teaches Greeks but befriends them?” He shrugged his shoulders then sighed. “At least, that is a fleeting thought of mine while Momma is unbearable.” He gave a lopsided grin, tipped his hat, then signaled to Yanni who rushed up to them. He kissed Maria on the forehead, smiled kindly at Leanna, then walked alongside Alex. “It is tonight, Mrs. McKee.” Alex waved to his mother. She gave a satisfied smile then hurried back inside the restaurant.

  “My papou like you. He say you love Teddy like a momma.” Maria giggled. “He want you at his party.”

  “I see. What is your grandfather’s name?” If they were celebrating it, she should know what it was.

  “Stergios.”

  “And you celebrate this?”

  “All names have special day.” Her English was improving nicely. If only Leanna could talk to her about what was truly in her heart. First, should she accept the invitation? And second, did Alex want her there?

  She was distracted by the invitation all day. A month ago, there would have been no hesitation in responding with a polite no. But she was a prisoner to her cold, dank home with the puny coal stove providing the only warmth.

  Alex had made it seem that she could make a difference around here. What if she could? What if this was the very reason she was still in Castle Gate? To scatter the darkness brought in by ignorant miners?

  Leanna decided to accept the invitation. She and the other progressives in Boston had rebelled against the class who firmly pushed immigrants and laborers to a level beneath them. She would not allow old expectations to hinder her from spending an evening in their company instead of being alone and miserable.

  Darkened skies brought the dusty coal miners from the heart of the mountain. With the babble of Greek, Leanna shrank into the shadows of the restaurant, her ears pumping with nerves. She tucked her loose hair back into her bun. Her golden locks alone surely screamed that she was a stranger.

  At least the past few hours after school had been quiet and pleasant. Alex’s parents had made sure she was comfortable, while Maria taught her how to play jackstones. Leanna enjoyed the lull of small talk, even if she couldn’t understand everything, and the warmth of family, even if they weren’t hers.

  “Meesus McKee, you like Yiayia’s patatas?” Maria scooted closer.

  “The potatoes are delicious. Thank your grandmother for me,” Leanna whispered to the girl, who then sprinted toward the kitchen. Maria had sat beside her during the early supper, trying to translate her grandmother’s chatter while the woman piled their table with food.

  “Good appetite,” Mrs. Pappas gleamed, proud of her food, or perhaps her English. Leanna wasn’t sure. But they were her only two English words, it seemed. Every other communication was in smiles and hushed Greek to Maria.

  Now Leanna kept an eye on the men filling the tables.

  Only one or two miners glanced in Leanna’s direction at first, but soon a dozen pairs of eyes gawked at her.

  She turned to Maria and said, “I must go,” and then pushed her chair back and stood up. Mrs. Pappas rushed over, speaking rapidly as she threw her hands about.

  “You stay, Meesus McKee,” Maria translated. “Papou play music, and we eat fruit.”

  “Thank your grandparents, Maria.” Leanna spoke close to her ear, keeping her eye on the growing audience of men. “But I must—”

  “You decided to come.” Alex approached, his eyes shining brightly from beneath a layer of coal dust. He sidestepped between two tables and bent down to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  “I have been here for quite a while.” Leanna smoothed her skirt and straightened the cuffs of her sleeves. “I think it is time for me to leave.”

  “Why? And miss my father’s bouzouki playing and Momma’s glyká?” He gave a bright smile and winked at Maria.

  “Eh?” Mrs. Pappas stared up at her son, and he responded in Greek.

  She shook her head fervently. “Ohi! Helena’s glyká.” Her dazzling chocolate eyes brimmed with tears, and she patted Alex’s cheek. His jaw flinched.

  “Thia Helena?” Maria grabbed her grandmother’s hand. The woman nodded, drew the child close, and crossed herself in a variation of the manner Leanna had seen Catholics use.

  Alex turned away from his mother in her apparent agony and said, “Mrs. McKee, it would devastate my mother if you leave before the celebration has begun.”

  The woman had been so kind, and it seemed that somehow Leanna was adding to an unknown misery. She pressed her lips together and slid back into her seat. This was a mistake. She was sure of it.

  Maria sat next to her again. “I glad you stay.” She slipped her hand into Leanna’s. A smile crept across the girl’s round face.

  “Maria, who is Helena?” Leanna asked while Alex walked across the room and shook his father’s hand.

  “Thia Helena?” The girl’s mouth dipped into a frown. “Thios Alex’s wife.” She fiddled with a spoon lying across an empty bowl. “She die after I was born.”

  “Oh.” Alex was a widower? A chill spread across her arms as she recalled his compassion when she received her cousin’s letter. The man understood her more than she could imagine.

  As they ate again, Leanna was aware of where he was at each moment that evening. A growing wonder colored her impression of him. In their few interactions, he had appeared to be as steady as the Castle Gate rock spires, which announced the entrance to Price Canyon. His pursuit and his character were unmatched by any person she knew, yet he’d traveled the same tragic path she now wandered over.

  Alex weaved in and out of the rows of tables, laughing with friends. Amid the houseful of Greeks filling their bellies, Leanna was not uncomfortable or impatient to leave anymore. This Alex Pappas had her attention like she was a debutante again, waiting for a signature on her dance card.

  Stergios took up a seat with a strangely shaped guitar. As he played, claps and shouts bounced off the walls. The miners began to push back tables, creating an open space in the center of the room. Men locked arms and spun around. Their serpentine line bounced and swayed, creeping closer to her corner of the restaurant.

  Maria tugged at her hand. “Come, Meesus McKee, I show you my dance.”

  Leanna’s stomach fell to her feet. “Absolutely not,” she commanded, gripping her seat. Heat flushed her cheeks. What would happen if word got out that she was caught dancing among these men? Maria’s shoulders dropped, but instead of persisting, she scurried across the room and knelt beside her grandfather, patting the beat on the floor.

  Leanna wiped her brow with the back of her hand, anxiety creeping to every corner of her frame. She scoured the room for the nearest exit.

  Alex drew near, blocking any view. “You look distraught,” he said.

  “Just a bit out of sorts. Your niece is unaware of my position here.” She forced a smile, even though her stomach remained unsettled.

  “I do not blame you,” he said. “You are the talk of the miners.”

  Leanna’s mouth dropped.

  “Don’t worry,” Alex quickly continued. “I have told them that we are conspiring, you and me.” He winked.

  Leanna swallowed hard. “Your words are not comforting in the least. What do you mean?”

  “I mean, that you and I are proving that Greeks and Americans can be on ha
rmonious terms. Your presence is a good sign of that.”

  Besides his eloquence once again sparking awe, she wrestled with embarrassment. “This is all too forced.” An ache crept around her heart seeing that she was just one person, and there was a whole town of miners who’d avoid this place at all costs. “I enjoy being a guest, not an experiment.”

  “Aw, you are a guest,” he said. “Forgive me. My family thinks nothing more about you than a treasured guest who helped our children.”

  “And you?” Leanna’s heart leaped to her throat.

  His debonair smile fell. “I am grateful to you. I’ve told you before.” Alex’s clean-shaven jawline twitched, and his lips pressed together in a thin line. “But I admit that I was hesitant to invite you.”

  “And I was also hesitant to accept the invitation,” she agreed meekly. “You and I are alike in many ways.”

  The music swelled while his umber eyes steadied on her. Flecks of gold and brown glinted in the lamplight from above. He sighed then straddled a chair with the back pushed against his chest.

  “Would you like a candied fruit, Mrs. McKee?” He slid a tray from the other side of the table.

  “Thank you.” She picked one and bit into the sticky fruit. A chewy cherry exploded sweetness in her mouth. “It’s delicious.”

  “Momma certainly makes the best.” He offered her a cloth napkin. “I joke and tell her she should open a candy store, too. If she wanted to, she would, she says. I believe her.”

  “I can see that. Your mother is a very persistent woman.”

  “She is that.” They both chuckled. The men behind them began to sing in Greek while Mrs. Pappas carried a pitcher to each table, filling glasses.

  “How long have you been in Utah, Alex?”

  “Eight years.” His forearm muscles flexed as he tightened his grip on the chair.

  “My goodness, I was in a completely different world eight years ago. French tablecloths and fine silver—and parents who were persistent in keeping strangers away. Unlike your mother who insisted I come inside.” She gave a wry smile.

  “It doesn’t sound like we are alike as much as you think.” His brow wagged playfully.

  Leanna lowered her gaze, tracing the table’s grain with her nail. “You have felt the same loss as me, Alex.” Her pulse quickened.

  “You know about Helena?”

  “Maria told me.”

  “It was a long time ago.” He looked away. “She was a very ill woman.”

  “I am sure you were a good husband to her.”

  His nostrils flared. “What would have you think that?”

  “You are kind to me, a practical stranger.”

  Alex’s brow furrowed. “You are right. We are strangers. You do not know me.” Turmoil washed his eyes. He glanced around the busy room. Men were now singing with Stergios while Mrs. Pappas disappeared to the kitchen. “There’s something about the call of this land. It’s intoxicating. I am sure Jack felt the same way when he learned the work he could do and the money he could earn.”

  Leanna’s mouth went dry at the mention of her husband—and the decision that broke their marriage almost two years ago. “Did Helena come willingly to Castle Gate?” Did she want to know the answer?

  He examined her face. The stark contrast between Alex’s wife and bitter Leanna was probably blinding—more than her northern blond hair among the Mediterranean ebony locks. “She did not come with me. I left her in Greece. My plan was to return to her, but just like Jack, I was struck by fool’s gold.”

  She stiffened in her chair. “Jack? You are nothing like him.”

  “You don’t give your husband credit for who he was. He was a good man. A saint compared to some,” he mumbled with seemingly much effort.

  “Why do you tell me this?” Stubborn tears pressed against her eyes. Jack had good intentions—the very reason why she fell in love with him. Yet he left her with a heap of unmet expectations. “I apologize for bringing up your past. It seems you are using mine to hurt me.” She pushed her chair back. Her heart banged against her chest as forcefully as the room pulsed with music and stomping feet.

  “I do not mean to hurt you, just prove the truth. I am more like Jack than you think. In the worst way.” Alex’s jaw flinched. “Because of my foolish gamble, I lost everything.”

  Leanna’s mouth fell open. “You—”

  “Thios Alex,” Maria whined, tugging at his sleeve. She rubbed one eye and spoke Greek. Alex stood up. He stroked his niece’s curls.

  “I will take Maria home now. Yanni left a little while ago to check on Penelope and Teddy. Thank you for coming.”

  “You can’t leave now.” She shot up from her chair. How could he end this on such an uneasy note?

  Regardless of her demand, he turned his back, starting toward the door. “Good-bye, Leanna.” His words were swallowed by the noisy celebration.

  Blood pumped thick in her ears. She felt as foolish as she had that day she’d discovered Jack’s last exchange for their hard-earned wages, the very same day Jack died in the mines. And, the same day that Alex became a hero without victory—failing to rescue her husband. Leanna had trusted Alex enough to accept an offer to care for his family. She’d found relief from this dark chapter in her life, and she thanked God for the means to possibly escape this place.

  But why would God use a man with the same vice as Jack’s?

  Leanna crept out of the dining room while the rest of the crowd was focused on Stergios. In the kitchen, Mrs. Pappas stoked the coals in the iron stove.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Pappas,” Leanna said, buttoning her coat and continuing toward the back door.

  “Ah!” Mrs. Pappas set down her iron poker and wiped her hands on her apron. “Efcharistó.” She rushed over and grabbed Leanna’s hands. Wrinkles fanned from her chestnut eyes and her genuine smile warmed Leanna for a moment.

  The woman kissed her cheek, causing Leanna to squirm at such familial affection. She hurried out the back door, stepping away from a regretful evening. Or at least, a remorseful end to one.

  Fat flakes plopped on the ground, leading the way to her cold, empty home. The thin blanket of snow shone bright from the moon, giving ample guidance in the late night hour. She glanced behind her before turning down the path. Far ahead, Alex disappeared along the hill’s crest. His tall, broad figure was in silhouette holding hands with little Maria.

  Of course he and Jack were friends. No doubt they plotted ways to throw away their money together. Anger whipped through Leanna, enticing her to wave a fiery fist up to Jack in the heavens. Her constant prayer of forgiveness was just as useless as Jack’s empty promises.

  She clenched her gloved fists and swiveled on her heel. The ground was slicker than she thought, though. A squeal escaped her before landing on her backside.

  “Mrs. McKee? Is that you?” Mr. Coffey appeared at the edge of the tree line. He rushed up to her.

  “If you could please help me up?”

  “Of course, ma’am.” He offered his hand and she found her feet again. She dusted off the back of her dress and straightened her hat.

  “I must ask, Mrs. McKee, why you’re out and about at this hour of night?” The brim of Coffey’s hat shadowed his pointy face.

  “Well, sir, why are you out?” She pulled her shoulders straight, standing inches taller than him.

  “I was looking for my cat.” He let out a gurgling laugh. “You ain’t got a cat, Mrs. McKee. What’s your excuse?”

  She offered a pretentious smile. “If you must know, I was invited to a party by Mrs. Pappas.” But her grin relaxed, and she was genuinely happy to have played the part of the progressive she’d hoped to be—even if it was just for one evening.

  He shook his head. When he pulled off his hat, the moonlight shone pale gray on his protruding forehead. “I know you are newer to these parts than most. Wet behind the ears on what’s proper around here. But don’t you think them Greeks aren’t the best people to make company with? I mean, not
for a fair American woman as yourself?” He wore a wide grin on his face, but Leanna swore his eyes flashed contemptuously.

  “I do not intend to jeopardize my reputation or theirs, Mr. Coffey,” she scoffed. If he only knew all the propriety she’d escaped. “The children are my students, and their grandmother is an exceptional hostess. Now, if you please, I would like to go home.” She leaned forward in challenge, forcing Mr. Coffey to move aside so she could pass by.

  “Them Pappas men don’t seem to understand their station in America,” Coffey spoke to the back of her head. “Just because they open up a restaurant, don’t give them the right to skip ahead of their rightful place here.”

  She spun around, uncomfortably close to the man. “I understand, Mr. Coffey,” she snapped. “More than you know. But they have more sense of hospitality to a widow than any American, I have found. Good night.” She resisted sprinting the rest of her way home and carried herself tall and proud. Every ounce of her wanted to cower as she imagined the busybody’s retaliation.

  Leanna stormed into her small kitchen, discarding her coat and removing her hat. The chilled air shocked her to the bone. She forgot about Coffey in her urgency to light the stove.

  She spied the empty hook next to her coat. Jack’s coat rarely hung there those last days. He was usually drenched by the time he returned from work. Leanna insisted he leave it out on the line. As her gaze wandered around the lonely room, she remembered their last night together.

  “I best get out of these trousers, then,” Jack’s Scottish lilt was more obvious when he was tired. “The water was like ice in that mine. Came right up to the knee.” He staggered across the room and caught himself with a firm hand on the wall.

  Compassion overwhelmed her, and she’d rushed to his side. “You are exhausted,” she said. Jack leaned into her while she wrapped her arm around his waist and helped him to the bed. “And dripping wet.” She knelt down and began to unlace his boots while he leaned his elbows on his knees and hung his head above hers. “No use in catching your death of cold.”

 

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