“We were out west on the silver mines in Nevada. My husband—he was Matthew, too—and my son died in a mine explosion. There I was, a widow with a fair bit of money, not safe as a woman alone in a mining camp. So I headed back east to my family.” Infinite sadness clouded the woman’s eyes. “I was overcome with grief and illness, and collapsed in Davenport, Iowa. A gentleman, Paul Daggett, came to my aid, and I married him to make it all decent.” She wiped tears from her cheeks.
“You needn’t tell us now,” Matt said, “not if it upsets you too much.”
She shook her head. “You have a right to know now. Daggett was a riverman and died in an explosion three years later. And there I was a widow again, but this time with my new baby. I came east and started my life over. Harold courted me, but I didn’t truly like him. He had a mean streak and no money. I figured he wanted mine. He was ambitious. So I turned him down.”
“And he forced you somehow?” John Paul spoke up for the first time. “He’s like that.”
“Yes, son, he forced me.” Mrs. Woodcocks sighed. “He presented me with you, Matt. Do you remember?”
“I do. I was eight or so and didn’t know why I was being paraded in front of this grand lady. Then taken away again. As far as I knew, I was the son of a woman who had an unsavory past. It’s all I remembered—the years after the cave-in.”
“You had survived that explosion and a woman with a poor reputation had found you and taken care of you. Woodcocks had done his work. He found her and found you and discovered that my first husband had lived awhile after the accident. Long enough that when I married Paul Daggett, I wasn’t yet a widow.”
Everyone gasped.
She smiled sadly. “Yes, it is shocking. It would have made me a pariah in society, amongst anyone, if not outright made me a criminal.”
“Not likely,” Lucinda said, her heart squeezing. “You didn’t know.”
“I take comfort in that, but it didn’t stop Harold from blackmailing me all these years. He brought Matthew here to remind me of what he could disclose about me. He made sure you had enough, Matthew, as I would have protested less, but he made sure you weren’t accepted fully in this town because he didn’t want anyone to believe you if the truth came out.”
John Paul rose. His face was white, his hands shaking. “This means that I–I’m a—a—you and my father weren’t married.”
“That’s a legal matter that will take awhile to straighten out,” Lucinda said.
“No one needs to know,” Matt said. “I’m legitimate in the eyes of the Lord. We can leave this story between us.”
At that moment, Lucinda thought she would fall in love with this man over again every day of her life. She reached for his hand. “You are so wonderful.”
“I’m trying to deserve you.” He raised her hand to his lips.
“But the money,” Mrs. Woodcocks protested, “what Harold has left of it, belongs to you.”
“I don’t need it,” Matt said. “I have my work and my house and my land and my Lucie, who will keep practicing law as long as she wants.”
“Good.” Mrs. Woodcocks leaned toward Lucinda. “This town needs an honest lawyer. Stagpole has been helping Harold all these years, and he’ll go down with him.”
“Are you saying I–I get to stay who I am?” John Paul asked.
Everyone laughed.
“Yes—” A look of wonder crossed Matt’s face. “I just realized. You’re my brother.” He rose and embraced the younger man, slapping him on the back. “We can’t tell anyone for M–Mother’s sake, but we know, and that’s what matters.”
“I think I’ll make Miss Lucinda my project,” Mrs. Woodcocks said. “The charities could use an honest lawyer to make sure all the donations and legal papers are in order. With Roger about to be arrested, will you take that on, my dear?”
“Um, yes, ma’am.” Lucinda gulped.
It was work she could do and still be a wife and, hopefully in the not-too-distant future, a mother.
“It’s the least I can do to make up for how I’ve treated you.” Mrs. Woodcocks sighed. “I was frightened, though. Roger was wasting the money, and I needed to get it away from him before it was all gone. Matthew was doing well for himself, but John Paul wasn’t raised to have any skills. He needs it. So Roger told me to help run you out of town. But you’re a special young woman. You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not giving up is why I’m here.” Lucinda gazed at Matt, talking to John Paul across the room. “And I can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else.”
Mrs. Woodcocks nodded, then excused herself to go to her room to rest. She asked John Paul to lend her support up the steps, leaving Lucinda and Matthew alone.
They faced one another from across the room. “I love you,” they said together, then laughed.
Matt closed the distance between them and kneeled before her. “Will you still marry me, knowing I’ve given up a fortune and complete respectability?”
“I’m not sure I’d have married you if you hadn’t given it up.” Lucinda leaned forward and kissed him. “Are you all right with me still taking on cases?”
“As long as they don’t put you in danger.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe the mayor was after both of us for both things.”
“Yes, to stop me from getting to the hearing and to get your birth certificate back.”
They sat in silence, gazing into one another’s eyes for several moments. Then Lucinda smoothed her hand over his brow. “You look tired. You should rest.”
“In a moment.” He captured her hand in his. “How soon will you marry me?”
“The hearing is now the week after the new year, and John Paul will certainly win now. So after that?”
“That long?”
She smiled at him. “I’d like my father to be here so you can ask him officially.”
Matt drew his brows together. “Any chance he’ll say no?”
“I already have his permission. The rest is a mere formality.” She laughed at Matt’s surprise. “Telegrams are wonderful.”
She hadn’t thought that when she’d received hers from Belva Lockwood and Trudy Perry, but now, with her father’s swift response folded into her skirt pocket, she liked the swift communication.
“What did he say?” Matthew asked.
“That if you’ll still let me practice, keep you.”
Matt laughed.
Lucinda didn’t. She touched his face with her scarred fingertips. “I’d marry you even if you said you wanted me to stop.”
“I know.” He pressed her hand against his cheek with his fingers. “How did I deserve such love?”
“It’s a gift. All forms of love are a gift from the Lord. Since He is our perfect Father, we have the most perfect of inheritances.”
About the Author
Award-winning author Laurie Alice Eakes has always loved books. When she ran out of available stories to entertain and encourage her, she began creating her own tales of love and adventure. In 2006 she celebrated the publication of her first hardcover novel. Much to her astonishment and delight, it won the National Readers Choice Award. Since then, she has sold eight more historical romances. A graduate of Asbury College and Seton Hill University, she lives in Texas with her husband and sundry animals.
Dedication
To my father, who taught me to love books, history, and things made out of wood.
For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons of God. For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together.
Romans 8:14–17
A note from the Author:
I love to hear from my readers! You may correspond with me by writing:
Laurie Alice Eakes
PO Box 721
Uhrichsville, OH 44683
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