by Dawn Kinzer
Peter crossed the aisle and slipped next to Ben in the pew. “Let’s hear it. What’s eating at you?”
For the next twenty minutes, Ben poured out everything. First, that he was a painter—and that disclosure raised Peter’s eyebrows, but he didn’t stop Ben and ask questions. Peter let Ben continue to talk. How he felt about Hope and his struggle with trusting her after she took his painting to Minneapolis when he’d specifically told her to keep his work a secret. Then, just when he thought he’d gotten past that, Henry Shelton showed up. But the most difficult of all was telling Peter how he’d blinded a young boy because of fighting, and how that very morning he’d broken his vow to never to raise his fists again.
“I’m ashamed of myself.” Ben tilted his head back and sighed. “God must be so disappointed.”
“Shelton had it coming.” The conviction in Peter’s voice hinted that he approved of the fight. He chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised. Christians are supposed to stand up for what’s right, and unfortunately, talking doesn’t always do the job.”
“You don’t understand. I was so angry, I could have lost control and really hurt that man.”
“But you didn’t.” Peter laid his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “The Bible says a lot of things about loving people, but it also mentions righteous anger. Jesus himself got angry when there was due cause. Today you only did what was necessary to protect someone you care about, and then you pulled back. Shelton walked away with only a few cuts and bruises—and without wounding Hope.”
“So, you’re saying brawling is justified?” A man of the cloth condoned beating another person?
“No. But I do believe that sometimes as Christians, we must fight both physical and spiritual battles in order to serve the kingdom of God. Earlier today, you physically fought someone who was on the path of possibly doing someone harm. Since then, you’ve been fighting with forces unseen.”
“So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Pray for wisdom and strength. Truly forgive Hope for any wrongdoing—put it all behind you. And forgive yourself.”
chapter TWENTY-FIVE
The sun’s rays falling on Hope’s shoulders gently pushed the October morning chill from her body, and she finally began to relax in the company of good friends who had gathered outside of the church—Clara, Rebecca, Ellie, Sarah, and of course, Annie. Concentrating on the sermon had been impossible knowing Ben sat two rows behind. She’d repented several times during the service for her lack of attention, but she could almost feel his stare. Had Ben also struggled with how their last conversation had ended—his declaration that he couldn’t be with her?
Clara touched Hope’s arm, drawing her attention. “Blanche had tea with me yesterday after her son and his family left for their home in North Dakota. They had a wonderful visit while here, and I think it did her heart good. Anyway, she’s intending to come by soon to thank you in person.”
“I was certainly glad to do it.” Designing something that was fashionable but also flattered the woman’s curvaceous figure had been a joy.
“She lit up like a full moon when she slipped on the dress and looked in the mirror. I’ve ever seen her so happy and confident. You helped her welcome her family home with pride.”
“Thank you, Clara.” That was exactly what Hope had wanted to accomplish—why she believed God had given her artistic talent. She was supposed to use it to make people happy, not keep it to herself.
“As a matter of fact”—Clara’s eyes sparkled— “we’ve received so many compliments on garments we’ve worked on together, I was wondering if you’d consider a more serious business proposition. One that would require a bigger commitment to each other and the town.”
“What are you proposing?” Hope braced herself. Clara was glowing with enthusiasm, but Hope feared her friend’s plan might entail more than what they were prepared to undertake.
“What would you think about the two of us opening up our own dress shop here in Riverton? I’m sure we’d have plenty of business to make it worthwhile. Now that Rose is fourteen, she’s a big help with the other three children, and I’d get a lot more sewing done in an actual shop without the young ones underfoot.”
“I—that’s not...” Hope wanted to help this dear friend who had come to her rescue several times, and she didn’t want to disappoint Clara, but she’d never considered staying in Riverton long-term until her friendship with Ben had grown into deep feelings for him.
And now that he’d made it clear a future together was impossible, Hope had contemplated moving elsewhere before her parents returned from Panama. If not back to New York, perhaps Minneapolis or Chicago. In a town as small as Riverton, she’d continually see him at the Home Store, church, and social functions, and the invisible chasm between them created a heartache she bore in silence. Only Annie knew how Hope felt about Ben—she’d fallen in love with him.
Hope pushed thoughts of Ben aside. “Oh, Clara, that’s a lovely idea, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be living here. I never moved here with the intention of making Riverton my permanent home.”
“I know.” The twinkle in Clara’s eyes dimmed, yet didn’t completely extinguish. “But, please, think about it. There would be nothing to stop you from still submitting your ideas to Butterick, and they might take you more seriously if you ran a successful shop.”
“I’ll give it considerable thought. I can do that much. Don’t give up just yet. Perhaps we can come up with a way for you to still open a shop of your own without my ongoing partnership.” Hope would do whatever she could to help Clara, and she’d contemplate what she might contribute to the venture.
Annie, listening to their conversation, nudged Hope. “Tell Clara about the letter from Eva Lancaster that arrived yesterday.”
“What did it say?”
Hope tingled all over again, just thinking about the words she’d read at least twenty times since. “She apologized for missing our supper engagement while I was in Minneapolis, and now that she’s had time to grieve her mother’s passing and put some things in order, she’d very much like to see some of my designs. She’s asked me to send a portfolio.”
“Hope, that’s wonderful! If she likes them, it could be the start to something big for you.” Bless Clara’s heart for her enthusiasm and wanting the best for Hope.
“Regardless of whether she thinks the designs have merit or not, she’s promised to offer some guidance. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful.”
“I’ll be praying for a quick and positive response.”
“Thank you, Clara.”
The woman was a treasure. As Hope had gotten to know her, she’d discovered that Clara’s oldest son had died after being kicked by a horse, and she’d also lost her husband only two years ago. A blacksmith, he’d tried to earn extra money for their large family and had fallen while fixing a barn roof. Now she had four children to support on her own. Clara was an inspiration of perseverance and faith. If Hope was ever going to open up a shop of her own, she would be honored to have a partner like Clara.
Hope peeked around Annie for just a moment to catch a glimpse of Ben. He’d said good morning and given her a smile when he greeted all the women in the group, but didn’t say another word. Now he was talking with a group of men, mostly farmers who were probably discussing crops and the harvest. Hope moved her eyes back to the circle of women who were chattering around her. She would have been mortified if Ben had looked their way and caught her staring.
Two weeks had passed since his fight with Henry, who’d left town the next day. The marshal confirmed it. Two weeks since Hope had shared everything with Ben about her past relationship with the arrogant lawyer. Two weeks since she and Ben had spoken. Was it always going to be like this? The two of them avoiding each other? Lord, please show me how to fix this.
Sarah, Ellie, and Rebecca finished their own conversation a few feet away and joined the other three women, forming a circle.
“Ellie delivered another baby the other
night.” Sarah’s voice held pride for her sister-in-law. “That makes four now, doesn’t it?”
“It does. Except I needed help with this one. The baby was breach. So in the calmest voice I could muster, I asked the father to get Doc Burnside.” Ellie wiped her brow. “Thank the good Lord everything went well, and a healthy little girl was brought into the world.”
Annie nudged Rebecca. “It looks like people in Riverton are doing their duty to supply you with children to teach.” Her focus returned to Ellie. “Was it the family who took over the farm next to Ole and Martha’s? They came into the store the other day with a little boy in tow, and the expectant mother looked so uncomfortable, I was a bit nervous she was going to have that baby right there in the store.”
Ellie nodded and laughed. “Sweet woman, but very shy, so it may take her a while to feel at home here. We’ll need to do everything we can to make her welcome.”
“That’s something we should talk about at the Ladies Aid Society meeting this week.” Sarah’s son began to fuss in her arms, and she jostled him to calm him. “Oh, and Hope, remember to bring the list your mother sent. We only have a month before we need to send supplies and gifts if we want to make sure they’ll arrive by Christmas.”
“I will.” Never in her life had Hope imagined she’d be attending Ladies Aid Society meetings. She’d always thought of them as gatherings for older women who quilted as an excuse to sit around and gossip. But she’d been wrong. This group of ladies ranged from young women just starting families to great-grandmothers. They chatted and laughed as they unselfishly contributed to making life easier for those less fortunate by donating quilts, food, and clothing. Hope had also become aware that they delivered meals to new mothers and people who were housebound because they were ill.
“This is a busy week with the Ladies Aid Society meeting on Thursday, and then the church hayride on Saturday night.” Ellie counted silently on fingers. “We’ll have five wagons, including ours. That should be enough.”
“The children have been looking forward to it all week.” Rebecca draped a heavy black shawl on her shoulders. “It’s been heartwarming to hear them invite friends from school to join us.”
Annie grinned. “Hope has never been on a hayride.”
“She’s been reminding me all week that first-timers get buried in the hay as an initiation.” That bit of news unnerved Hope, but it sounded like most of the congregation participated in the event, and she never wanted to be afraid of trying anything.
“Don’t let her teasing get to you. Hayrides are fun. It’s mostly singing and telling stories,” Clara said.
“She’s right,” Sarah said. “My grandmother will stay with the baby, but our hayrides are tame enough for Mary to come along.”
Sarah, Ellie, and Clara said their good-byes and left to join their families. Jake practically swooped Annie away to talk by themselves. That left Hope standing alone with Rebecca.
“Annie says everything at the library is going well.”
“Yes, quite well. A number of people come in on Saturdays while in town getting supplies, and the children love to search for new books. It’s like a treasure hunt for them. I don’t know how Annie does it. Spending as much time as she does there while still working at the Home Store most days.” The corners of Rebecca’s mouth curved up. “Annie and I weren’t always fond of each other, but we’ve become good friends. At least, I think we have.”
Hope returned the smile. “I know she’d agree.”
“It’s interesting how perspectives can change.” Rebecca waved at several children who called out their good-byes to her as they left a game of tag, then climbed into the back of a wagon.
Other parents were gathering their children as parishioners began dispersing, probably heading home for their Sunday dinner and afternoon of leisure.
“I was just thinking the same thing about the Ladies Aid Society.” Hope lifted her face to the sun’s warmth. “I’ve been surprised by how much I enjoy spending time with the women.”
“See there? That’s just what I mean. You probably never thought after living in New York that you’d feel at home in a small town like Riverton. Yet, you’ve been here less than six months, and already you’re a large part of the community.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” The reality that Riverton now felt like home warmed Hope’s insides like a cup of hot chocolate on a bitter cold January night.
“I mean it. You’ve made a place for yourself. That’s why people here were so willing to rally around you and make sure that that troublemaker Mr. Shelton left. You may not know this, but more than one person besides the marshal spoke to the man and warned him not to come back. Including Ben.”
“No, I wasn’t aware.” Gratitude for their support cascaded over her like fresh water, cleansing her from some of the pain and embarrassment she’d been carrying.
Rebecca seemed hesitate to speak. “I know it’s none of my business, but may I ask how you and Ben are getting along?”
Odd question, considering she and Rebecca weren’t close. “Did Annie mention anything about us?”
“No, she hasn’t told me anything. When we’re together at the library, she mostly talks about Jake. But it was clear the way Ben handled Mr. Shelton that he cares for you, and no one has to be terribly observant on Sunday mornings to notice that you and Ben have been maneuvering to stay clear of each other.”
Hope’s shoulders dropped as air rushed from her lungs. “It’s that noticeable?”
Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “Like a snowman at a summer picnic.”
“I don’t know what to do. He’s just so stubborn—and proud.”
“He’s a man.” Rebecca’s eyes softened. “I’ve experienced heartache with more than one myself.”
Remembering Rebecca’s history in Riverton, Hope stole a glance at Sarah and Reverend Caswell, and Rebecca’s gaze followed for a brief moment.
“It’s all right. I know Annie told you how I became a crazy person because I believed Reverend Caswell was the man for me. But I was wrong, and I got over my feelings for him a long time ago. Sarah had a lot to do with that. It’s a long story, but she forgave me for some horrible things I said and did, even when I didn’t want forgiveness. That gesture rekindled our childhood friendship. It also helped me accept that she’s the right match for him.” Rebecca glanced in Ben’s direction. “I’m not saying you should forget about him. I just want to remind you that if he’s the one God has chosen for you, everything will somehow work out. And if he’s not, then God will heal your heartache.”
“You’ve really been able to move on? Even with seeing Sarah and the reverend together all the time?”
“I have, and I sincerely wish good things for them. But I won’t deny that I’d still like to find real love someday. I’m a romantic. Annie can testify to all the romance novels I check out of the library.” Rebecca gave a little laugh, but it was laced with some pain.
“And have a family?”
Rebecca tipped her head.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“No, not at all,” Rebecca sighed. “It’s just...I can’t have children of my own,” she said softly.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca.”
“Thank you. I’ve accepted it, but reminders are still painful.” Rebecca’s expression became contemplative. “I was engaged once, but my fiancé broke things off when I told him there wouldn’t be a family to go with the marriage. He didn’t handle the news well. I couldn’t blame him. When Peter—Reverend Caswell—moved back to Riverton a widower with a small child, I thought my prayers had been answered.” She gave a slight shrug. “You know how that turned out. So, I have to keep believing that someday the right one will show up. Of course, I’d still love to have a family, but unless God provides a miracle, it won’t happen for me.”
“Psalm 37:4 says, ‘Delight thyself also in the Lord: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.’ We need to remember that.”
> She’d spoken Scripture to encourage Rebecca, but as soon as the words left Hope’s lips, a disturbing awareness assailed her. Had she been striving so hard on her own to create opportunities to use her talent that she’d risked missing any created by God?
chapteR TWENTY-SIX
If it weren’t for the occasional stalk that poked Hope and made her itch, the bed of hay felt almost cozy and warm once she nestled into it. Annie had made herself comfortable next to Hope at the head of the wagon, and Jake sprawled on the other side of Annie. Ben had helped riders board other wagons before jumping on the end of theirs as they left Thomas and Ellie’s farm. Hope felt a twinge of sadness when he remained at the opposite end of where she sat. Why hadn’t he volunteered to chaperone one of the other wagons?
Their wagon carried adults, families claimed a second wagon, a third had been filled by ages thirteen to nineteen, and the last held rambunctious children old enough to be on their own, but too young to be accepted on the same wagon as those older than twelve. Along with several other parents, Thomas and Ellie chaperoned that latter, probably because their own three, John, Grace, and Isaac were onboard with their friends. Clara had also volunteered to ride with them because of her three younger children, giving Rose a chance to have an evening free of responsibility on a separate wagon. From Hope’s limited view, the big people seemed to be keeping the little people corralled. At least no one had fallen out—yet.
The wagon jostled left and right as it traveled down the trail flanked by trees. This late in October, little foliage still clung to almost-naked branches, allowing the full moon’s radiance to light their way.
“Was this road made just for hayrides?” It seemed like a huge task to Hope for an occasional outing.
Jake sat up, chewing on the end of a hay stalk. “Do you want to know about the farmer who originally owned Thomas’s farm, fell in love with a girl at the neighboring farm, and how he cut a trail through the woods so he could visit her, even in the dead of winter and during horrible blizzards?”
