by Kari Trumbo
“I’m not. Life’s not worth living if it’s not worth dying for.”
Cort tapped the deck on the desk and stood. “You coming, or are you going to stay here until it gets too dark to see? Just because you can’t go visit your gal, don’t mean you don’t have things to do. Let the sheriff sort out all the Farnsworth mess. Let me handle the rest.”
The seamstress shack was the only bit of quiet Lenora could look forward to after two days with very little time to herself. She hadn’t even allowed herself to mourn the loss of her mother, though they buried her almost right away. Late spring to almost summer in California was too hot to just leave her be. It had been an emotionless service for a town still in shock, but they hadn’t known her. Most had never even seen her.
Oddly, as she’d helped prepare her mother for burial, she’d felt free, which then left her guilty. Her mother no longer feared the Indian attacks that hadn’t happened, she didn’t have to fight with anyone over who she was any longer… But she was also gone. There was no hope of happiness or redemption from her fears. Their last conversation played over in her head for long hours. Her mother had been so unhappy, trying to be who she wasn’t. She’d let everyone tell her that who she was, right down to her skin, was wrong. The longer Lenora thought about it, the more it bothered her.
Though Victor had helped her off the roof, he hadn’t found her after Pati had swept her away. He’d thoroughly disappeared, which wasn’t like him. She’d needed to see him, to feel his strength. But he hadn’t come for her. Now, days later, his new kerchief sat on the table of finished items, yet to be picked up. Pati had said they were not to deliver anything, but this wasn’t just anyone, it was Victor, and she missed him. Pati might understand her need, she was newly married. But an order was an order and Lenora was too drained to ask.
Pati hadn’t made her do the laundry, instead, offering her the chance to talk while helping her with her own embroidery. Pati told her of life in Ireland and in London, how she’d followed her father all the way to California, then stayed here when she met Pete. Pati seemed to understand that she didn’t feel like talking, but listening was soothing. So, Lenora listened to Pati’s stories from morning until late afternoon, when Pati was ready to go home. When Pati relaxed, and got into her story, her voice melted into an accent like a melody that soothed the rough edges of Lenora’s thoughts.
Lenora’s father had said he wanted her to work with him, but she had yet to stay in the office. He was angry, silent, brooding. She’d never seen him like that before. When he’d asked what had transpired up on the roof, she tried to explain, but her father seemed to have forgotten her mother’s oddities since arriving in Blessings, and would only believe that somehow, the fault lay solely on Victor. Though in her heart she knew it was part of his grief, she couldn’t abide him besmirching Victor. Not when he’d been the only one to value her life enough to climb the ladder and try to save them. She couldn’t stand his accusations and hadn’t allowed him to continue, but it didn’t stop him from insulting Victor and talking to the sheriff about it.
Her father was furious that Victor hadn’t been locked up. He wouldn’t listen to reason and she hated going home in the evening. Even now, she let her gaze fall on the little square of fabric she’d worked so hard to finish, and only wanted to go to Victor, not her father. She hadn’t even told Pati that her father wanted her to come back to work for him.
The livery was well out of her way, but that didn’t stop her from glancing through the sparse trees, between the small houses and tents, all the way over where she could just see the roof of the stables. Mr. Mosier had arrived late the night before and she’d heard from one of the miners that Victor and Cort were painting. The building would soon be a nice bright red with white trim. No mail had come for her, but her father had received something from Boston. That was all she could see from the envelope, he hadn’t shared anything further with her.
As she slipped inside the land office, her father sat at his desk with his head in his hands. His shoulders were slumped. He’d never allowed his emotions to show in his work, but now he couldn’t seem to get a good handle on them.
“Father? Do you need something?” she spoke softly to keep from startling him. He hadn’t raised his head when she’d come in.
“No, dear. The sheriff just stopped by and pointed out that Victor was with Mr. Nelson almost exclusively for an entire week, while they built the livery. When he wasn’t with Cort, he was with you. I would guess that you would swear he never went up those stairs?”
Her heart raced. If Father would forgive him, perhaps she could risk going to Victor? But what then? He’d never let Father’s rules stop him before, but he’d let this. The pain left a hole in her chest. His absence was all the more painful with her father’s chilly demeanor.
“I would swear it. He never went near the stairs. I don’t know what Mother saw, or whom, but it wasn’t Victor. He’s innocent.”
Her father snorted his disagreement, but didn’t speak further on it.
“Mrs. Winslet was kind enough to bring us our supper. It’s upstairs on the back of the stove. I have no appetite. Eat if you’d like.”
He stood and shrugged out of his business coat, draped it over his chair, and left her. She was free to go to Victor, but shouldn’t he come to her? Wasn’t she the one grieving? He’d said he would come check her progress on the kerchief every day, then he’d left her to herself. She pulled out the soft bit of embroidery she’d worked on that day, under Pati’s watchful eye. It was just like the ones she’d made for Victor, with the same color pattern. The difference, this one had the initials LRA intricately embroidered in one corner. Lenora Rose Abernathy.
He’d already asked her, and she wanted to be with him, but her father had to agree, and Victor had to come for her. Her father would never wed them if he didn’t. Soon, she would have to return to working with her father, and then all hope of Victor coming for her would be lost. She’d be expected to return to her father, and she would miss Pati, but now it was like a ticking clock in her head.
She couldn’t bear to be in the house alone anymore. Even downstairs, where her mother had never been, still held her scent, her voice. If Lenora had believed in spirits, she would’ve fully believed her mother was still there. But she knew it was just her mind, wishing for what it could not have. Lenora ran up the stairs, refusing to even look at the window where she’d climbed out to follow her mother, and pulled the pan off the stove. She and her father would eat when they got hungry. But for now, like her father, she had to get out.
Chapter 16
Mr. Mosier arrived the following evening with a wagon load of supplies and the mail. The paint they had been waiting for had finally arrived. A few more days’ work and they could open the livery. Mr. Mosier handed the mail bag to Mr. Winslet then started to unload the huge covered buckets of paint.
Victor didn’t care much about the mail, but that paint wouldn’t carry itself all the way across the settlement, back to where it needed to be. They were heavy, and there were four large buckets to move.
Atherton Winslet called his name with a rough laugh that had him more than a little surprised. The only one who knew he was in Blessings was his mother, and he hadn’t heard from her in years. His heart sank in his chest and felt heavier than pewter. If his mother was writing to him, she would be asking him to come home. Atherton handed him the letter, but didn’t let go.
“Victor. You’ve got a look about you, and this letter didn’t help none. Most people get good and happy when they get a bit of mail.”
Victor tucked the letter into his vest pocket, so he could forget about it for a while. “It’s nothing, sir. I’d just hoped to have a little more time, is all.”
“Time? I’ve got more time than just about anythin’ else. I’ll give you some of mine. Use it wisely and tell me what’s on your mind. You can’t do anythin’ with that paint this late in the day, anyway.”
Atherton led them away from ever
yone vying for letters, over to a pair of stumps. Atherton sat first, then invited Victor to sit along with him. The paint would wait.
He hadn’t had much time to talk to the founder of the town, though the old man made his way through the growing town many times a day, his wizened eyes and scrappy beard a familiar sight in Blessings.
Victor hadn’t seen Lenora in over a day and he chaffed to rush over to the land office and ask for a walk, just so he could find out if she was getting on all right. He’d said he’d keep track of her progress on his kerchief, but then, the accident and the sheriff’s warning had forced him to think. But it was Cort’s suggestion that held him back. She would come to him when she’d decided he wasn’t guilty.
“I’ve had my eye on a woman for over nine months. I’ve asked for her hand, but she hasn’t answered. Her father isn’t keen on the idea. I’d hoped to have more time to convince her that…”
He couldn’t finish. In England, he’d been everything, had everything, he’d ever wanted. He’d considered himself the most important thing in every instance. Now, he saw it for what it was: a youth wasted.
“There a reason this woman hasn’t given you an answer?” Atherton crossed his ankle over his knee, making himself at home on the stump.
“I’ve tried everything I know to get through to this woman, but it’s no use. Not now. I had hoped this letter would never come. Now, I have to go home, and she’s already said she will not go with me. I know that I need to go, that it’s the right thing. My family is depending on me, waiting for me. Lenora isn’t. She’s got her father to care for her now. She’ll find someone good enough for her.”
The old man petted his mane of a beard for a moment. “Victor. Just ‘cuz I didn’t approve a job at the mine for you, doesn’t mean you ain’t a worthy man. I’d heard about your need to go back to England and, you see, now you must. The livery was a good investment, and it will still be there if you return. And if you love Lenora, you will.”
Victor sighed and patted the heavy letter in his vest pocket. “I’m sorry, Mr. Winslet, I can’t wait a moment longer.”
He laughed but did not leave. “Go ‘head.”
Victor pulled the letter out and opened it, he could almost imagine the smell of his mother’s lilac perfume, which she usually sprinkled over her letters.
Dearest Victor,
I hope I have waited long enough to write that this letter reaches you in California. I received your letter from last fall, saying that you would be moving all the way across America. I was quite surprised to hear that, since you would be moving even further away from us. The prospects for America must be far worse than I thought. I now regret suggesting you find your own fortune in the States.
I have some wonderful news. Your brother, Devin, made an excellent business decision and has now joined a man in a partnership that is sure to more than make the family fortune back, as long as we are patient. He has also married the most wonderful young woman, Adelle. She is simply lovely. I cannot wait for you to meet her. Devin tells me that you may meet her as long as you stay far away from her.
Your father has said that he misses you and wishes to speak to you. I hope you will take that as his forgiveness and come home. We all miss you. Your brother has said that if you come back, you will not be allowed to gamble away his money, so, if you return, bear in mind that you will have to work. Nathan and Ethan married sisters last spring. They shared a ceremony, and it was lovely. I wish you could have been there.
I miss you very much. It has been far too long, and it would do your dear mum proud if you would come home with expediency. The voyage is so long and arduous. I know you have probably just arrived in California and most likely have no desire to board a ship again so quickly, but if you make haste, perhaps you can even be back to us before the New Year. Wouldn’t that be splendid?
Please let us know when you will be arriving. I will be watching for you.
Mum
“They don’t need the money…” His mind reeled with all the information. “All my brothers are married…” He was the only Abernathy yet alone. “Father wants to speak to me…” Which meant he was forgiven. After his last night of debauchery in England, his father had said he’d never speak to him again. Victor now regretted that night, as well.
“What’s that?” Atherton cupped his ear as if he were hard of hearing. Victor knew better. He’d heard every word.
“My mother no longer needs the money. I don’t have to go back… She misses me … but I would miss Lenora too much. I don’t have to go…”
He still couldn’t believe it. The weight was off his shoulders. He wanted to run right over and tell Lenora, then kiss her until she answered him. Except, he’d agreed to stay away from her.
Atherton cocked his head to the side and glanced behind them, toward the river, a thoughtful relaxation taking over his face. Then he stared for a moment at the land office as if he was working out a problem in his head.
“I know you’ll be busy the next few days or so, what with paintin’ that stable and findin’ a way to get a message to your family. I think, after that, you’ll be done and ready for a break. I’ve got a little somethin’ I need done down by the river, directly behind Pati’s place. Can you meet me there, ‘round three, in three days?”
What could Atherton need of him, unless the letter was proof enough that he wasn’t going to leave, and Atherton was finally going to give him a job at the mine. His heart raced. Now that he didn’t have to go, he could consider life in Blessings. If he could have that job, maybe that would be enough to convince Lenora’s father to trust him, and then he could ask her once again. If he was good enough for Atherton Winslet, it might convince Lenora that he was a changed man. Oh, how he wanted to see her.
“Yes, sir. A day to paint and two days to travel to the nearest telegraph office. That’d be in Culloma … there and back. I’ll meet you by the river. Do I need to bring anything with me?”
The old man smiled with a twinkle in his eye as he stood from his stump and stretched.
“I’d say you should bring a smile and an open hand.” He winked and walked away.
The slight breeze off the river was cool on Lenora’s overheated face and the town sat quiet as most were inside, eating their noon meal. Though she’d never encountered Victor by the river, she couldn’t help but hope that he would find her there, out in the open. What could possibly be keeping him away? Three days felt like a lifetime after being with him every day for almost a year.
To her right, she could hear the flume from the mine running water back to the river. To the left and behind, the town of Blessings nestled quietly in the little clearing. Everyone in town had been so resilient, moving on with life and encouraging her to do the same. Death was just another part of life, and though Blessings was more reserved than other places they had traveled through on their way, it was still a boomtown and fraught with danger.
Seraphina came from behind and sat beside her quietly, her cape in place, leaving her face buried in shadow, the sun never touching her skin. Her head was bent, almost like she was in prayer.
“I heard about your mother from my brother. I am so sorry,” she whispered in her lilting French.
Lenora wished she knew more about the woman who kept herself so separate from the rest of the townsfolk. But today wasn’t the day to learn her secrets.
“Thank you.”
The woman reached within the depths of her cape and handed her a glass vial with a light green liquid. Even her hands were gloved.
“If you’re having trouble sleeping. It will help. It’s very strong. Put it in a cup, and top it off with water. Drink it like tea. It will help.”
Lenora accepted it, but wondered if it was safe to take. She’d had no trouble with the salve for her hands, since that went on her skin, but wouldn’t a witch make poison? Would it be safe? Seraphina had never done anything to hurt her, but the people of Blessings, people she loved and who had helped her through her trials t
hus far, were frightened of the quiet woman, save Pati. The salve Pati had given her gave her hope the whole town was wrong about Seraphina.
Seraphina ducked deeper into her hood as if terrified of the light.
“I should get back to my tent. I only venture out to get my herbs and water while everyone is working and won’t notice me. My brother feels that it’s best that way.”
And with that, she stood and disappeared back from where she came. A few leaves rustling across the river caught her eye and she remembered the man she’d seen. Pati had assured her that, while seeing someone hiding was always unnerving, she respected the Miwok. They stayed on their side of the river and, as long as the people of Blessings did the same, there wouldn’t be any trouble. They could both live in peace. But had one of the Miwok managed to come into Blessings? Had her mother been genuinely frightened? It seemed unlikely. It would be difficult for them to get around unnoticed.
Her mother’s mind had been scarred by fear, and Lenora refused to let that happen to herself. She would be strong, she would help make Blessings a place where families would want to come for generations … where her own generations could live. But only if Victor decided to come around again, because she couldn’t imagine sharing her life or her heart with another man.
“Are you enjoyin’ a little quiet by the river, Miss Farnsworth?” Mr. Winslet stood beside her for a moment then dropped onto the grass next to her.
She startled slightly; he’d come so quietly, she hadn’t heard him approach.
“Yes, my home doesn’t seem peaceful anymore.”
“I’m sure it don’t. With just your father here, will you be stayin’ on in Blessings, or will you go to live with your brother?”
She hadn’t even considered leaving, though perhaps people might think she wouldn’t want to stay, now that her mother was gone. The opposite was true. Her mother had wanted to go so badly it had made living in Blessings difficult. If Geoff had taken Mother with him, Lenora would’ve breathed a sigh of relief and gone on, trying to find her own way.
