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Amethyst

Page 32

by Lauraine Snelling


  Now it was Ruby’s turn to roll her eyes. She shook her head for added emphasis. “I suppose you said something along the line that you cared for her?” She gave her husband one of those looks, and he studied the coffee in his cup.

  “Ah, I guess so.” This was worse than being grilled by a general after a rout. Not that he’d had that happen many times, but once was enough.

  “You care for your horse. You care for a cup of coffee on a cold day. You care for—”

  He raised his hand. “Stop, I understand.” I hope. He glared at Rand. “And no laughing at my expense.” He turned back to Ruby. “And you guarantee this will work?”

  “No, but it’ll bring you a lot closer than you are now.”

  “This is getting as bad as trying to find Geronimo.” He chuckled along with them but wasn’t too sure he was off the mark.

  Since Amethyst had written how much she enjoyed his animal sketches, he had two of them framed and wrapped for her. One was of the doe and two fawns he’d often seen in his pasture, and the other was of the fox that slipped past his house to go drink at her favorite place on the creek. He gave thanks to Carl, who fashioned the frames. This way she’d have something to see to remind her of him. If she put them out, that is. He clutched the package in one hand and dropped the knocker on the front door of Mrs. Grant’s home. This time he’d let them know he was coming.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. McHenry.” The maid ushered him in. “If you’ll wait in the parlor, I’ll go find Miss O’Shaunasy.”

  “Thank you.” He handed her his coat and hat, which had been welcome on this blustery day. While November was being kind in the badlands, Chicago shivered in a cold, driving rain. He heard the tap of her shoes before she entered the room. Her smile gave him hope.

  “Welcome to Chicago, Mr. McHenry. Come with me. It is warmer in the sitting room where we have a fire in the fireplace. Seemed the perfect thing for a day like today.”

  He cleared his throat. “You look lovely.”

  Amethyst stopped and smiled into his eyes. “Thank you.”

  I’ve missed you. He hoped his eyes were saying what his tongue would not. Why was it that he could command troops, fight off attacking Indians, but was not able to say what he wanted to this woman? “I brought you something. It’s not much, but I hope you like it.” Now you’re rambling. Jeremiah McHenry, you’re a broken-down, half-blind, stubborn, overbearing dolt. What could she possibly see in you anyway? He handed her the package.

  “Thank you. I’ll open it in the sitting room.” She tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led him out a different door than from the entry and across the hall to a room that looked to have the sun shining in. After ringing for the maid, she sat down in a yellow damask chair and motioned him to take the other. Very carefully, to save the paper, she unwrapped the sketches.

  “Oh.” She turned them both right side up and looked from one to the other. “You did these?” When she found the signature at the lower right corners, she caught her lower lip between her teeth, blinked, and sniffed. “Thank you. I have so enjoyed your little pictures on your letters. I shall treasure these.” She studied them some more. “When did you become an artist?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not an artist. I just like to draw. It’s a good way to entertain yourself when you’re on a post with not enough to do. I’ll have to show you those I did in Arizona someday.”

  “I’d like that.”

  At the entry of the maid, Amethyst set the frames upright on the table so they could be seen by all. “Please let Mrs. Grant know that our guest has arrived.”

  “Oh, she knows. She said to tell you to invite the gentleman to dinner, and she will join you in the dining room.”

  “All right.” Amethyst poured out the coffee. “I’m sorry we have nothing stronger to put in that to help warm you up.”

  “That’s all right. I gave up the stronger drinks.”

  “Did you really?” The words were out of her mouth before she could think.

  “I realized I was coming to depend on it, not only to help with the pain, but…” He shrugged. “In general.”

  “The pain in your leg is better, then?”

  “Yes, it is.” He sipped from the cup and smiled. “This is perfect. Thank you.” This room suits her. All sunshine and bright colors. Even on a bright day, my house is pretty dark. He trapped a sigh before it grew into being.

  Amethyst watched him over the rim of her cup. He seemed different somehow. Uncertain? Perhaps. “Is something wrong, Mr. McHenry?”

  “Ah, no, of course not.” He made himself smile and sit straighter. But the comparisons roared through his head: the silver service, the maid, or many maids, the cook, windows that looked out to a garden cared for by gardeners, the grand piano—she’d expressed a wish one time to learn to play the piano at the Heglands. “Have you learned to play the piano?”

  “No.” She shook her head just the slightest. “I haven’t had time.”

  “I’m sorry. You love music.”

  “Do you still play the mouth organ?”

  “In church every Sunday. It’s a far cry from the organ and pianos of large churches, but we enjoy singing.” He started to tell her about the barbeque but stopped himself. “Tell me about your business. How are the lotions doing?”

  “Wonderfully. We are having a hard time keeping the orders filled. Would you like to see my mixing room?” She stopped. “After our coffee, that is. I mean, if you really want to.”

  “I would be happy to. Would it be possible for me to purchase some things to take back to Medora with me?”

  “You haven’t seen them yet.”

  “I know, but…” He paused and took a cookie from the plate she offered. “What about the healing lotion you mentioned in your letter?”

  “It’s good for burns and bugbites, we’ve learned.”

  “Bugbites. That ought to do well in Dakotah Territory.”

  She could feel herself relaxing as she laughed with him. Love, JM. That was the way he signed the pictures. Did he mean that or was it just a way of signing?

  She showed him around her mixing room and made him try several of her lotions. “Doesn’t that feel good on your hands?”

  “Yes.” He looked up at her in surprise. “It does.” He lifted the back of his hand to his nose. “Mint. What else?”

  “Lavender, witch hazel, a lot of other things.” She held up another bottle. “I thought perhaps this would be good for men. I’ve distilled pine for it. What do you think?”

  I think you are more beautiful than ever and that you are far, far beyond the woman I first met. And that I made the biggest mistake of my life when I let you leave. He forced a smile back on his mouth and raised his head from sniffing first one hand and then the other. “I think I like the mint best.” He sniffed again. “Although I think many men would like the pine. It is very masculine.”

  “Thank you.” You just took three steps back or closed the door. What happened? I thought for a moment there you… Amethyst straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Would you like to see our showroom? We’ve taken over part of the carriage house until we need a larger space.”

  “Dinner is ready, miss.”

  “All right, Jenny. Thank you.” She smiled up at McHenry. “We’ll do that later.”

  But later did not happen because he had an appointment in the afternoon, and that evening they all three attended the theater.

  The following day he left to pick up his horses.

  “What do you mean, you never told her you loved her?” Rand stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “I thought you were going to ask her to marry you.”

  “I was.” McHenry shook his head. “But I can’t ask her to give all that up. I counted the cost for her. It was too high.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  December

  Jacob looked up from planing a new piece of board to put in the doorframe so that the Robertsons would have a tighter door this winter. He w
aved at Rand riding up on Buck. The horse snorted and danced, obviously wanting a real run.

  “You have a minute?” Rand asked.

  “Of course. Can we talk while I keep working on this? I was hoping to get finished here so I could have some time on my house this afternoon.”

  “You want some help over there?”

  “I’d never turn down help.” Jacob sighted along the board. It appeared straight now.

  Rand dismounted and ground-tied Buck. “I rode by your place. It’s good to see the new door and that window fixed.”

  “I need to get up on the roof next. Lost a lot of shingles during the last storm.”

  “You have any?”

  “The kids have been splitting some, and Jeremiah brought over the ones he had left. Said he’d need more in the spring but not now.”

  “Ruby and I have been talking about your request.”

  Jacob stopped walking toward the house. Here goes. “And you have come to a decision?”

  “Yes, we have agreed that you may court Opal if she is willing.”

  “You’ve not spoken to her about it.” Jacob felt sure of that from the look on Rand’s face.

  “No. I thought perhaps we could do that together, but then I decided you should be the one. We’ve been a bit indecisive on this part, I’m afraid.” He raised a hand. “I know you’ve got arguments for telling her, but to us she is still young Opal. Not getting-ready-for-marriage Opal.”

  “I understand. I have a feeling that if I have a daughter, I shall not be pushing for her to get married and leave home either.” Jacob found it easier to smile now that he’d heard the good news.

  “You know, there is one thing.” Rand shook his head. “I have a hard time picturing Opal as a pastor’s wife.”

  “You mean in that most pastor’s wives don’t train horses, work cattle, and excel at hunting?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I promise you something. I will never put pressure on Opal to change. I love her just the way she is.”

  “Don’t go making promises you cannot keep, son. No one knows what lies ahead.” Rand mounted Buck again. “When do you think you’ll be on your way to your place? I’ll bring Beans and meet you there.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get the wagon loaded. Give me two hours or so.”

  So, Lord, how and when do I tell her, or rather ask her? He fitted the board into the frame, marked where the lockset plate should go, took it out again, cut out the plate hole with a keyhole saw, and fitted the board again. After inserting the hardware, he nodded at the satisfactory click. Now that pesky door would not blow open nor let in drafts.

  Now to get his own place—what a good sound that was, my own place—as weathertight as this house, and he’d be more than pleased. While he planned to continue living in the soddy, he also thought to spend some nights at his own house. Believing it really was his took some doing. The check from the solicitor had paid for the twenty-five acres, the house, and the drilling of the well. Finding the owner had taken some doing, and while he figured some people would say he’d been lucky, he knew his providence came from his heavenly Father. The previous owner had been grateful for the money.

  “You want me to help load the wagon, Pa?” Joel called when he’d finished his other chores.

  “Please. And add some of the firewood too.”

  With the three men working and Joel fetching, they had the roof on the log section repaired before dark.

  “See you in the morning,” Jacob said as they all headed home. Good thing he’d prepared his sermon earlier in the week. Having some sermons to touch up from his previous parish helped when time was tight, like now.

  All the way back to the Robertsons’, his mind divided between listening to Joel’s chatter and trying to figure how to talk with Opal. Never would he have guessed there would come a time when he wished his son didn’t like talking to him quite so much.

  Later that night he fell asleep rehearsing ways to bring up the subject.

  Opal held Per on her lap as the musicians prepared to open the service. Rand, Mr. McHenry, Daisy, Cimarron, and Pearl on the piano had practiced already and were laughing at something someone said.

  Go up there. She ignored the inner voice, wishing she could ignore the music. But something inside her felt different. Ever since the time of terrible sadness, music only made her feel more sad, like the cloud grew heavier and darker. But now that she thought about it, she’d heard music lately in the cries of the birds migrating to warmer quarters and in the wind whirling the last of the maple and cottonwood leaves to their rest on the ground. She’d even caught herself whistling one day.

  “Opa?” Per’s voice broke into her reverie.

  “What?” she whispered into his ear. “You have to be quiet now.”

  “Why?” His latest word, and already she was wishing he’d not learned it.

  “Because church is starting.”

  “Go to Pa.” He pushed away, but she caught him before he could scramble down.

  “No, he’s busy. You be a good boy and sit here until he comes.”

  “Good boy.”

  “You want to switch with me?” Ruby asked.

  “No. We’re fine.” Mary could be as wiggly as her brother these days.

  “Good morning, everyone. Let’s stand for the first hymn, ‘Holy, Holy, Holy.’ ” Reverend Chandler stood in front of the congregation, his smile far warmer than the weak sun outside.

  Opal stood silently, listening to the words as the voices rose in harmony around her. “‘Early in the morning our songs shall rise to thee…merciful and mighty.”’ She could hear Jacob’s voice, rich and harmonizing, Rand’s some deeper, a true baritone, Cimarron’s a strong alto. Ruby stood on Opal’s left, singing the melody. Others sang around her, their voices doing exactly what the hymn said, “‘…our songs shall rise to thee.”’

  The song ended. “Let us pray,” intoned Jacob. “Father in heaven, bless our worship service today and please make all of our service an act of worship. In your Son’s precious name, amen.”

  So why don’t I sing anymore? The thought interrupted her concentration on the Bible reading. Is it that I can’t sing anymore? That thought made her blink. No, I just don’t feel like singing. How do you know that you can still sing, then? What if God had taken away the gift He had given her?

  “‘Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.”’

  Opal absently rubbed Per’s back as she listened. I haven’t been doing that, have I? She sighed and caught Ruby glancing at her. Per sighed and leaned against her chest, his weight growing heavier as he slid into sleep.

  When they announced the final hymn, she stood carefully, trying to keep from waking him, but “Onward Christian Soldiers” would wake anyone up. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at her. “Opa, sing.”

  Opal hugged him close, swaying as she joined in the chorus, softly singing into his ear to make him smile. At least her voice still worked.

  Ruby glanced her way, smiled, and nodded.

  After the benediction conversations picked up around the room as the congregants filed toward the door. Some crowded around the drawing Mr. Hegland had made of the new church, including the layout of the building. Everyone shrugged into their coats and prepared for the ride to the Heglands’ boardinghouse, where they’d eat dinner and visit awhile before heading home. Opal helped Per with his coat and turned to find Jacob beside her.

  “Good morning.”

  She nodded, his smile making her feel warm clear to her toes.

  “I need to talk with you about something. I was hoping we could go riding this afternoon, but it looks to me like it might snow.”

  “Can’t we talk at Pearl’s?” She held on to Per’s hand in spite of his leaning to follow his ma and pa.

  “Come, Opa.”

  “Of course. I’ll see you then.”

  All the way there, Opal wondered what must be so important. He certainly looked serious enough.

  A
s all the others filed inside the house, carrying baskets of food, laughing, and teasing one another, Opal hung back until Jacob stood beside her.

  “Thank you for waiting.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, no. Something is very right.” He sucked in a breath, his smile lighting his whole face. “This is a bit of a story, so be patient, all right?”

  “You know me. I’m always patient.”

  At that he burst out laughing. “Leave it to you, Opal.” Shaking his head, he started again. “Opal, I’ve been wanting to tell you that I care for you.”

  “Care? Of course. We’re friends. Friends always care for each other. Other than when you were ignoring me and I figured you—”

  He held up a hand. “I know that part. And I’m sorry for that, but it came—well, it’s a long story, and we’d freeze out here before it is all told but…” He sucked in another deep breath, then coughed as the cold hit his lungs. “Pardon me.” When he could speak again, he continued, “What I need to say is—” “You two going to stand out here all day?” Carl Hegland stuck his head out the door, then looked surprised when someone pulled him back in.

  Something really strange is going on here, Opal thought. She took a step toward the door but stopped when Jacob put a hand on her arm.

  “Please, let me finish.”

  “We could talk inside, you know, where you could breathe without choking.”

  “I said it was a long story, but…” He could tell she was about to bolt. “Rand gave me permission to ask your permission to allow me to court you.”

  “What?” Her forehead wrinkled, and she made a face, shaking her head all the while. “Did you say what I thought you said?”

  Might as well jump in with both feet. “Opal, I have been in love with you for months, and when I went to Rand—” This time it was Opal who held her hand up. “Slow down.”

  “I can’t. We’re freezing.”

  “Let’s walk, then. Around the porch if nothing else. I want to get to the bottom of this.” She took his arm and pulled him along. “You say you love me?”

  “Yes.”

 

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