by Kari Trumbo
“I’m not so sure about my father, but I, for one, would like to stay. There are people here that I couldn’t live without, and I have nowhere to go once they leave.”
The old man raised a bushy eyebrow and chuckled slightly. “That so? Are you sayin’ there’s someone here in Blessings who’s more important to you than your father?”
It might sound strange, but she had to admit, at least to her heart, it was true. Victor meant more to her, and for the rest of her life, he would. She’d reached an age where she loved her father, but she needed a husband, someone to share her whole life with, someone to cherish her.
“I would say so, yes,” she whispered, waiting for the old man to censure her for such an admission.
“Does this person know that you’ve set them to such esteem?” The old man leaned forward, catching her with wise hazel eyes that seemed much older than his years.
“No, not yet. It doesn’t really matter, either. Because as much as I want life to change, it won’t. He never stays anywhere long, and soon he will feel the urge to move along, far away. Maybe even home. He likes his women, you see, and one would never be enough for him.” Her cheeks burned just saying it, but Mr. Winslet made anyone around him so at home, there was no need for pretense.
A strange twinkle glinted in the old man’s eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that, truly I am. I hate to see two people miss out on a life together, ‘specially when I could grow old watchin’ happy people.” He shifted to his knees and plucked a strange little plant from in front of him.
“I came down to the river to gather a few things for the wife for cookin’—you know what kind of a cook she is—but it doesn’t look like they’re quite ready yet. Do you think you could meet me here tomorrow, about three in the afternoon, to help me? I need to gather quite a lot and … well … my old eyes. I can’t see well enough to get what we need by myself.”
He smiled, but there was more to what he was asking. His face fairly glowed with his exuberant smile … and a secret.
Mr. Winslet had been so kind to her father, and so generous after her family had arrived in Blessings. She couldn’t possibly tell him no, especially not after the Winslets had provided supper for them for a few nights after her mother had passed, even if most of the food had gone untouched.
“Of course, I’ll help you. Are you sure the plants will be ready in time? It would seem this is rather, small.” She picked up the little sprout that didn’t look much different from common grass to her eye. “Does it mature quickly?”
The man laughed and slapped his knee. “It does mature quickly, ‘specially when you feed and water it every day. I’ve got to go tell the wife. See you here tomorrow. Yes, definitely tomorrow. Don’t be late!” He moved along down the bank and back toward Winslet House faster than she’d thought he could go.
The old man was so strange sometimes, though always well-meaning. Pati certainly wouldn’t miss her for an afternoon and her father didn’t seem all that concerned about having her underfoot in his office.
She knew so very little about cooking, though, her father knew even less. If Victor ever did come around again to get her answer, they would surely have to live with her father, or risk leaving the man to starve. Though, after just three days’ absence, she had to admit she’d follow him all the way to Europe if that’s what Victor wanted. Blessings was a wonderful town, staying there and watching it grow would be even better than becoming a lawyer. Without Victor, both her old dreams and the little town lost some of their luster.
Lenora shoved her new embroidered kerchief back in her pocket and found the path from the seamstress shop back to the main street that would take her home. But instead of taking it, she went farther down the new path that was soon turning into a trodden road, to the livery. Cort stood outside, his sleeves rolled up, mixing the paint with a long paddle. He glanced up from his work for a moment.
“Good afternoon, Miss Farnsworth. Come to take a look at the new paint?”
It was a lovely shade of red and it did make the building gleam in the bright sunlight.
“It looks good, almost done. Is your partner about? I haven’t seen him in a few days.”
Cort wiped his brow with a muscled forearm. “Sorry, miss. He worked with me until about noon, then he left for Culloma. He had to send a telegram to his mother. He got a letter from her when the paint came in and he wanted to make sure she got a reply quickly.”
Cold dread washed down her spine. His mother had written to call him home. He might even be trying to book passage while he was there, if it was possible. And he would go alone, since she’d denied him what he’d been asking for. She prayed that he would have to go all the way to the coast for that. If he did, he’d have to come back to Blessings first. Then she could tell him her heart and go with him, if he still wanted her.
“How long do you think he’ll be gone?”
“He had to walk, there was no horse or mule available. Could take him a little over a day. I’m sure he’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon.”
Why hadn’t he come to see her, tell her he was going away? What if something happened to him and she never saw him again? He had to have left when she’d been down by the river. He could’ve been looking for her and hadn’t found her.
“Is the road safe, you aren’t concerned?” Not that it would help the painful burning within her. Even if Cort didn’t fear for Victor, she would.
Cort laughed. “I taught him how to use the iron by his wallet. He may not be as good as me, but he’s good enough that, unless someone comes upon him unawares, he’ll be fine.”
His reassurance did little to stop her empty stomach from swirling.
Cort stopped mixing the paint. “I’ll let him know that you stopped by. He’s been hoping you would. I told him to hold off, let you decide you were sure that he had no part in what happened.”
And Victor had listened to Cort, that was why she hadn’t had his presence when she’d wanted it? Didn’t he see her as more important than Cort? Cort’s words left an emptiness deeper than she’d expected. She’d needed to see if he could comfort her even better than he thrilled her, and Cort had kept her from knowing.
“His innocence was never in question, at least not with me. Victor had more important things to do than frighten my mother. My father insisted that we keep my mother’s tender sensibilities under the table so that no one would think of her what they think about the witch. Superstition is rife where your livelihood is based on luck.”
A deep laugh rumbled from Cort’s chest. “That is true. I’m glad to hear that you know Victor’s heart enough to know that he wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“It won’t matter what I know, once he’s gone.” She left before he could respond. If Victor was leaving, at least his friend could give him the message that she, for one, wouldn’t be happy about it.
Chapter 17
His calves burned from all the walking, but not more than his stomach. Victor hadn’t brought much of anything with him, but the letter from his mum had distracted him from getting as much done on the painting as he should have. By lunch, Cort told him it would be good to go and get a note off to his mother and tell her just what she needed to know. He wasn’t coming home. At least, not for a good long time.
Lenora was his life. He ached to see her after just three days apart. He thought he’d given up on prayer, but the last few days had found him praying for her. If he couldn’t see her, couldn’t hold her and comfort her, then he’d rely on the Lord to do it. His father would tell him he should’ve tried it sooner.
He’d gone to the seamstress shack just before he’d left, hoping to see her and tell her he’d be gone, but she hadn’t been there. Pati couldn’t or wouldn’t tell him where Lenora had gone, and he’d had to rush or risk not making it back in time for his meeting with Winslet. That meeting could be the change his life needed. He’d quickly retrieved his new kerchief and left for Culloma.
After nine hours of walking he finally made it
. He’d get right back on the road after his business in the morning and hopefully make it back in time. His belly and his feet had needs he couldn’t presently ignore. Sending that letter would be declaring his independence, even more permanently than running away had. He wouldn’t be living to run from his past anymore. His life would be his own once again, to live just as he pleased, and he would be pleased very much once Lenora was his.
Culloma was the town where gold had first been discovered in California, and it was a rowdy place. If he hadn’t worn himself out of gambling since meeting Lenora, he’d have no trouble finding a table or two. And if not for Lenora, he would have even less trouble finding a few friends. The women waiting by the open windows of the saloons held little appeal. They didn’t have a cloud of dark curly hair about their faces, the perfect rose lips. Nor were they modest enough to keep a man wondering about their beauty hidden from all eyes, because they hid nothing. Lenora would be his alone, if she believed in his innocence.
After reading his mother’s letter, he’d stayed up most of the night, wondering about what he would say. Then it had been on his mind all the following day while he’d tried to help Cort. He was choosing to stay for Lenora, but she could easily never look him in the eye again. He hadn’t even touched her mother, but his appearance had driven her off the roof and Lenora could blame him for that. The sheriff hadn’t locked him up, but after telling him not to go up on the ladder, and the outcome of that poorly thought out decision, he certainly could’ve. When Victor wasn’t praying for Lenora and for her heart to be soft toward him, he was reliving that moment on the roof over and over. She’d clung to him. And if he couldn’t stop hearing the sound of Mrs. Farnsworth’s demise in his own mind, how much more horrible for his poor Lenora? When he returned to Blessings, he wouldn’t wait. He’d find her right away and make sure she knew his heart.
As he strode by the swinging front door of another saloon, he heard a familiar voice. Victor ducked inside and found Geoff sitting at a table in the corner. Victor slid into an empty seat as a man shuffled the cards.
“You looking to play, Abernathy?” Geoff snarled.
He wasn’t. Geoff probably didn’t even know about his mother yet and, sadly, he wasn’t sure Geoff would care.
“You need to go on home, your father needs you.”
Geoff shook his head and focused on his stack of chips in front of him.
“My father doesn’t need me. He had no reason to need extra security for the trip. When I tried to work for him, he did nothing but pester me about going back to Boston to study to be a lawyer just like him. As if I would want to make that trip all the way back now. I’ll make my own way.”
Victor didn’t want to tell the man about his mother in front of everyone, but there was no way he could know, and Victor couldn’t just let it be.
“We should talk about this outside.”
The men around the table sent shifty glances to everyone else. Calling a man outside could be seen as an invitation to fight, either with fists or guns, dependent on the men.
“I’d gladly meet you outside, you sorry excuse for a man.”
Victor stood and leaned over the table, yanking Geoff to his feet.
“You’d best grow up a little bit before you go around insulting me. Turn in your chips and meet me outside.”
His jaw was clenched so tight he’d crack his teeth if he didn’t stop. If Geoff hadn’t been Lenora’s brother, he’d have just kept walking. But if Lenora cared about the man, even a little, then he had to.
Victor waited by the door as Geoff turned in his winnings and met him. He glared as he shoved out the swinging doors. How he wanted to put the insufferable boy in his place. While by most standards he was a man, Geoff had much to learn about being one.
He caught the door on its inward swing and followed Geoff out onto the street. People bustled all around them and Geoff took a gunslinger stance.
Victor took a deep breath. “I’m not here to fight you, Geoff. You’re needed at home. Your mother took a turn and she didn’t make it. Your father isn’t taking it well. Your sister isn’t taking it well, they need you. You want the chance to show them you’re a man? Be one.”
Geoff stared at him for a moment, then shook his head in disbelief.
“Are you trying to distract me? Did my sister tell you about Mother’s sickness? Is she that close to you that she would air our business to you?” He spat the words.
He could hurt Geoff, make him wallow in his words, but it wouldn’t help him, and it wouldn’t make Geoff go home.
“What your mother did was in front of the whole town. Your sister did nothing but try to help a horrible situation, one that could have been helped by you offering to take your mother. You need to either go back to Blessings and become a man and be there for your father, or go far away. Your father doesn’t need you to be a petulant child right now.”
Geoff was barely eighteen, but he’d been spoiled in Boston. He hadn’t been ready to take on the responsibility to watch his family on the ship and Mr. Farnsworth had known his wife would need him, so he’d hired Victor, and Victor would forever be thankful. Edward’s agreement to include Cort would remain a mystery, but that didn’t matter anymore.
“A petulant child? You mean like someone who tosses his father’s money to the wind and then gets scolded and sent off to fix it?”
Geoff was hurting, and no one had bothered to try to understand him, but there came a point when he had to be a man. Sometimes hurts needed to be put aside and dealt with later. His family needed him to do just that, but he wasn’t ready.
“Are you going back?”
Geoff turned and glanced over his shoulder. “No. I see no reason to ever set foot in Blessings again.”
It would hurt Mr. Farnsworth even more to know that he’d seen Geoff, told him of his mother’s death, and he’d still walked away. He’d learned after so many months with Lenora that honesty was the best way to keep your head on straight. She’d taught him that. He wouldn’t live a life of dishonesty and debauchery any more. Though, if Geoff remained on his current path, he would have to wade through that himself.
Now, even his head was bone-weary. He found the nearest boarding house that didn’t look like it might blow over in a stiff wind and paid eight times what it would’ve cost for a room anywhere else in the whole of America. The walls were thin, and he missed his quiet bed in Blessings. Talk and all sorts of other noise came from the other sides of the calico hung up as walls between each room. One poor woman a few beds over cleared her throat all night long whenever she heard the intimate night noises so easily heard through the thin fabric walls.
When he could no longer pretend to try to sleep, he left his pallet and paid for his room and a breakfast at over a dollar a plate. He’d have to leave town soon or completely clean out his pockets. Culloma had a small post office and he took the short sheet of paper for a telegraph to the counter to write it out. Every word would be expensive, and he had to make each one count.
Mum, Letter coming. Good to hear from you. I’m staying in California.
- Victor
The short missive seemed cold when he read through it again, but he would write a full letter and send that along while he was here as well, but a full letter would take over a month to arrive. While he wasn’t sure how quickly she would get the telegraph, it would be quicker than a letter, and he didn’t want her to worry.
He composed a message, telling his mother about Cort, Blessings, and the woman who had captivated more than just his body. His mother had warned him all those years ago that there was a woman somewhere who would be his match in every way, and she would turn his wandering head to the straight and narrow. Mum couldn’t have been more right.
Though his legs still ached from the long walk the day before, he wasn’t going to be gone from Blessings for more than a day if he could help it, and he was for sure not going to stay another night in an expensive calico box. Blessings called, but it’s voice was L
enora’s.
The worry ate away at Lenora. Every few minutes, she searched out her window to the east, hoping to see Victor return. Though Cort had said he wouldn’t be back yet that day, she had hoped. Three days without seeing Victor would now turn into four. She’d lain awake, listening to the rustle of the trees outside, and praying that he’d made it safely to Culloma. If he’d had to spend the night, he wouldn’t be home for hours. She let the heaviness of her thoughts weigh her down.
Pati would be waiting for her, no matter how tired she was after her sleepless night. Lenora would need to warn her boss that she would need to leave early that day, at about three when Mr. Winslet would need her help. Pati was so sweet, she would probably offer to come along and help.
She got dressed and left her room to find that her father had already gone down to his office for the day. The whole town had done their best to leave him alone after Mother died, but the growing town still needed him. Slowly, he would return to his busy usual. At least he had his friendship with Atherton to get him through. Lenora managed to eat a little of the leftover supper from the night before. She and her father weren’t hungry, so each meal served to feed them longer, which made sure that she didn’t have to cook.
As she came down the stairs, her father sat at his desk, writing.
“Lenora,” he said quietly. It was the closest he ever came to wishing her a good day anymore. Her heart ached for the strong man who had been taken down so thoroughly. He’d never been an affectionate man, but he’d loved her mother.
“Is there anything I can do for you, before I go off for the day to help Pati?”
He lifted the papers and tapped them against his desk. “No, I should think I would be fine here. There hasn’t been much work of late. Perhaps when I get busy again, you can return here as we spoke about before your mother’s accident.”
