Phoebe shuddered. “Well, I’d prefer we not catch any of those. I’ve never liked snakes.”
Kenny took hold of her hand. “Miss Phoebe, if any snakes come, I’ll catch them and get them away from you. I don’t want you to ever be afraid.”
11
I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” Elizabeth said as she ushered Phoebe into her cottage. “I’ve had some things that needed tending. Please sit.” She made a quick glance around the room to make certain there were no telltale signs of Kenny.
Phoebe sat in the same chair she’d used the last time she visited. She was dressed in a simple skirt and white blouse. Her hair was pulled back but left to hang down her back. It made her seem younger somehow, more vulnerable. Her expression bore the unmistakable look of confusion and concern. Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to assure her daughter of her love and to wipe away the memories of the past.
“I have really struggled to understand what has happened,” Phoebe admitted. “With Vater gone, I’ve had a lot of time to think. I know you’re right when you say that he can be a very harsh and unforgiving man.” She looked up to where Elizabeth still stood. “I’ve also come to realize that Vater seems inclined toward lying.”
“I’m so sorry, Phoebe. Has something else happened?” She took a seat in the rocker and waited for Phoebe to speak.
“He lied to me about arranging a marriage. He told me he would come up with a list of possible suitors and allow me to pick a husband.” She looked down at her folded hands. “But he lied. I just found out a few days ago that he’s arranged for me to marry an old duke—a man his own age—a man I’ve never cared for.” She raised her face and met Elizabeth’s gaze. “He’s not only set up the arrangement, he’s fixed the wedding date.”
“Oh, Phoebe. I am so sorry.” Elizabeth determined she would do whatever she could to prevent her daughter from going into a loveless marriage.
“It really hurts me to know he’s lied. Lied to me about you. Lied about this.” Phoebe shook her head. “I’ve hardly been able to think about anything else.”
“You don’t have to go through with it. Your father cannot force you to go back with him and marry this man. You could stay here—with me.”
“Surprisingly enough I have considered that very thing.”
Phoebe fell silent, and Elizabeth found herself uncertain what to say. She didn’t want to say or do anything to further her daughter’s pain. After a while, Elizabeth decided to share her heart.
“Phoebe, I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you’ve come to speak with me. After seeing you and talking, I found that it filled a place in me that had long been empty. You are a very important part of my life, as is Dieter. Nothing has been completely right since losing the two of you.
“I want you to know that I am not here to speak ill of your father or of the choices he made. I do not desire to set you against him. I must admit that at one time I did want that, but not now. I have been praying a great deal about the past and have come to the conclusion that dwelling on it, and even making it the focus of our conversations here, would only serve to do more damage. What I hope for is that you and I might rekindle our love for each other. I want you to know that I love you most dearly and have never stopped.”
To her surprise, Phoebe’s eyes filled with tears. “After you had gone and I thought you dead, I used to lie in bed at night and imagine it wasn’t so. I despaired of even living.”
“Oh, my sweet daughter.” Elizabeth felt a deep ache within at the thought of what her child had suffered.
“I told myself it was just a bad dream—that you were really just down the hall in your room and that in the morning I would see you at breakfast and I would tell you of my nightmare.” Phoebe sniffed. “I hoped so many times that it was all a mistake. I couldn’t bear having lost you.” Her voice broke, and Phoebe rose from the chair and went to where Elizabeth sat. She sank to the floor at her mother’s feet.
“I can’t bear the thought of losing you again . . . Mutti.” Phoebe laid her head on her mother’s knee and cried in earnest.
Elizabeth didn’t even attempt to hide her tears. She bent over her daughter and held her fast. She had never desired anything as much as she did this moment.
Phoebe hadn’t intended to fall apart. Such behavior wasn’t acceptable for the daughter of a nobleman, but something deep inside broke like a dam. She knew she needed her mother more than anyone else, and to fight that, or give pretense of not wanting it, seemed foolish indeed.
For a long while Phoebe cried and held on to her mother. A decade of pain poured from her heart. Nothing that had gone before mattered as much as this moment. After a time, Mutter raised her head and began stroking her daughter’s hair. The action reminded Phoebe of being a little girl once again. It soothed her like nothing else could, and her tears abated.
“My precious girl,” her mother whispered, “everything will change now. We can build again on the solid foundation of what was, but no more will I dwell in the past. Not where you are concerned.”
Phoebe lifted her face but held fast to her mother. “I am so confused as to what I should do. Vater will never understand how much this means to me. I don’t want to hurt him, even though he’s devastated me with these lies. I love him.”
“I know you do, and I don’t want you to stop. He has made a great many mistakes, but as human beings we are all inclined to sin.”
“Sin? Is that what it truly amounts to?”
“I believe so. I’ve spent the last decade learning to depend on God, and in order to do that, I had to know Him better. The church I attended when you were a child didn’t encourage that at all. It was sufficient to let those in charge know Him and share what they would with the congregation. It was far more important to be seen and to see others in attendance. But here, the thought is completely different.”
Phoebe sat back and looked at her mother’s red-rimmed eyes. “How is it different?” She didn’t know why, but she found herself wanting very much to know the answer.
“We are like sheep. Remember the old farmer who lived near the village—the one who had the flock of sheep?”
Phoebe nodded. “I do. I always liked to visit when the new lambs were birthed.”
“Sheep aren’t the brightest of God’s creation,” her mother continued. “And we are a lot like them. We often don’t stay where it’s safe. We wander out to what appears to be better pastures only to find ourselves in great danger.
“In the Bible, God is revealed to be a shepherd who watches over us with tender love, just as that old man cared for his flock. When one of us goes astray, God finds us and gently herds us back to join the others. I found that rather comforting.”
“It is a nice thought.” She paused for a moment, remembering how adamantly her father despised such thinking. “Vater doesn’t believe in God. He says the Bible is no different than Greek or Roman mythology—just a collection of stories to frighten mankind into some kind of order.”
“I know. He never did believe and chided me for my opinions.” Mutter frowned. “I know he has his philosophy, and each man must choose for himself. However, when I came to America—or rather when I came here to Helena—I found my eyes opened to so much more than mere religion and philosophy. I found a Savior.”
Phoebe wished she could understand her mother’s heart. She spoke the words in such a way that they seemed so comforting. She started to ask her to explain, but a knock sounded on the door to the cottage.
Both women jumped to their feet. Phoebe didn’t know why, but the presence of someone else caused her to feel uncomfortable. What if Gerda had managed to follow her here?
Her mother hurried to the window. “It’s my friend, Georgia.”
“I should go.” Phoebe looked around the room. “Is there another way I might leave?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Come this way.” She led Phoebe into the kitchen to a back door. “Please tell me that you’ll come again soon.”
&
nbsp; Phoebe nodded and hugged her mother close. “I will. I promise.”
Crowded into the stands of cheering fans at the rodeo on the Fourth of July, Ian watched Phoebe laughing at the rodeo clowns as they hustled a fallen rider away from danger. She was completely enthralled by the activities. Kenny, too, was more than excited.
“This is the best rodeo ever,” he told Ian. “I remember last year’s, and this one is much better. The horses are wilder, and it’s so exciting to see those cowboys ride them.”
“Riding seems hardly the right word,” Phoebe interjected. “It seems they are thrown precariously around and then deposited on the hard ground. I wince each time one of them gets thrown, knowing just how that feels.”
Ian laughed. “It’s a part of who these cowboys are. Rodeos are great places to show off their skills. Ranching isn’t an easy life. It’s hard work, and they have to have some amusement.”
“You talk as one who knows.” She looked at him with a raised brow and unspoken question.
She was so delicately beautiful—like a fine china doll he’d seen in one of the shop windows. Her German background kept her aloof and formal much of the time, but when her guard was down Phoebe was not only stunning but quite animated.
Ian smiled. “I am. I have an aunt and uncle who own a ranch. I spent summers there when I was a boy, and the work is very hard. Breaking a horse for riding is never easy. Thankfully, I’ve never had to do the job.”
“I suppose I never considered the work that goes into such things,” Phoebe admitted. “The horses were well broken by the time they came to me for riding.”
“Can we have ice cream?” Kenny asked out of the blue. “I’m hot, and those people over there have ice cream and I want some too.” He looked at Ian with great hope.
“I think that sounds good, as well,” Phoebe announced. “I will make it my treat.”
“You don’t need to do that. After all, we invited you here today.” Ian helped her to her feet and then down the grandstand steps. Once they were on solid ground, he let go of her. It wasn’t for a lack of desire to keep holding on to her arm. He found he very much enjoyed her closeness. In fact, that was the problem. More and more, Phoebe Von Bergen was taking his thoughts captive, and feelings he’d forgotten were once again rising to the surface.
“I know where the ice cream is sold,” Kenny said, reaching out to pull Ian in the right direction. “I hope they have strawberry.”
Phoebe surprisingly kept pace with them. Ian had been glad she’d worn a very simple summer gown. He had seen her in some of her more expensive fashions and knew they’d never be comfortable for a day at the rodeo. Not only that, but he liked her like this, unadorned with jewels or fancy clothes. Dressed as she was, she seemed to fit right in with the other folks.
The crowd thickened with more people, and to Ian’s surprise, a freight wagon careened around the corner just as they were about to cross the street. He barely had time to pull Kenny and Phoebe back from the curb. Dust swirled around them, causing Phoebe to cough, while expletives also filled the air from men less forgiving of the careless driver.
“That was a close one,” Ian said, waiting to see that Phoebe was all right.
She nodded. “I never even saw him coming.” She looked around. “Is Kenny all right?”
“I’m fine, Miss Phoebe.” He popped up from behind Ian. “But now I really want that ice cream. I got dust in my mouth.”
Phoebe laughed. Ian directed them away from the rodeo grounds to a shady spot. “Why don’t you two wait here? That might be safer. I’ll get the ice cream and bring it back to you. What flavor would you like, Miss Phoebe?”
She smiled at him in such a sincere manner that Ian felt his chest tighten. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to enjoy the company of a woman. He chided himself to be cautious and not lose his heart, but he worried at the same time that it was too late.
“I think I would like to try the strawberry.”
“It’s the best,” Kenny declared.
“All right then, three strawberry.” Ian set out to retrieve the cold dessert without further ado.
The line was long but moved rather quickly. Ian placed his order, then realized as the cones were handed over that he was going to have quite a time managing three. He carefully balanced one in each hand, then allowed the clerk to position the third between those two, his fingers splayed so as to manage the trio of cones.
He started back for the place where he’d left Phoebe and Kenny but soon realized they’d moved a little closer to where they could watch some young boys in a contest of catching piglets. With their backs turned to Ian, they didn’t realize he could hear their conversation.
“So then Ian told me the pigs had grease on them, and that’s why it’s so much harder to catch them and hold on to them.”
Ian smiled to himself at the memory. Kenny had thought it quite silly that the boys couldn’t catch the pigs and keep their hold. He started to comment but stopped short when Phoebe posed a question.
“Why do you call your father by his given name?”
For a moment Ian thought his heart had stopped. He wasn’t at all sure if he should just jump right in and distract Phoebe with the ice cream—which was already starting to drip down his hands.
“Ian’s not my father,” Kenny replied.
Phoebe turned just a bit and looked down at the boy. “But I thought he was. You’re always with him.”
Ian wasted no time. “Here we are—three ice creams, and you’d best hurry to eat them before they completely melt.”
It was the perfect diversion, but the encounter nevertheless left Ian somewhat worried. They’d managed to keep Phoebe no wiser about her brother for almost two weeks, but Ian knew the time was coming rapidly to a halt. Her father would soon return, and then Elizabeth would have to make a decision about what to do. It wouldn’t be an easy matter to resolve.
Phoebe was exhausted by the time Ian suggested they head home. He borrowed a buckboard and put Kenny in the back before helping Phoebe climb up to the seat. She marveled at how Ian seemed to just jump up with ease to claim the bench beside her. It appeared to be no effort at all, but it didn’t surprise her. She had felt the ironlike muscles in his forearms.
“It was a wonderful day. I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun, and the fireworks this evening were a wonderful way to end the affair,” she said as Ian drove her back to the resort. “I must say I like this American celebration of liberty.” She looked back, thinking Kenny might interject his thoughts, but found the boy was already asleep.
“I guess liberty wore Kenny out completely,” she mused.
Ian chuckled. “We take our independence very seriously.”
“As you should.” Phoebe had heard all sorts of speakers that day, and all had focused on the topic of freedom. One man, a preacher, had even mentioned that Jesus was the ultimate source of freedom. It had piqued Phoebe’s curiosity, given the things her mother had already shared.
“I wonder if you could explain something for me.”
“I’ll try,” Ian said, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
“Well, that one man—the preacher we heard—said that Jesus was the ultimate source of freedom. I don’t understand what he meant by that, but it’s stayed with me all this time. I know you said he was the preacher at your church, so I thought you might explain it.”
Ian nodded but still didn’t look at her. In the scant moonlight he appeared deep in thought. Phoebe hoped she hadn’t offended him. Maybe he wasn’t the sort who liked to talk about such personal things.
“It’s really pretty simple,” he began. “This world is full of sin . . . wrongdoing. We make choices we know we shouldn’t and do things we know aren’t right, like lying, stealing, and killing. Those sins bind us until we are so tangled up we can’t move. We just keep making the same wrong choices and decisions. Jesus offers a way to set us free from that by our accepting Him as Savior.”
“Savior?�
�� Phoebe had heard her mother use that word earlier. “You mean to save us from those sins—to set us free from our mistakes?”
“Yes.” Ian turned and looked at her. “If you’re all tied up, you can’t very well set yourself free. You need someone else to come and do it for you. Jesus was willing to accept responsibility for our mistakes—He allowed them to put Him to death on a cross.”
“But why? Why kill Him if He was such a good man?”
“Because as God’s Son, Jesus was the only one who could save us from our sin. You see, God had always required His people to make a blood sacrifice in order to be forgiven of their wrongdoing. There were strict rules about the sacrifice—what animal it should be and that it needed to be without blemish. Jesus became the final blood sacrifice. He alone was good enough.”
“That seems awful. How could anyone take the life of an innocent man? How could God allow such a thing?”
Ian shrugged. “I guess it was because He loved us enough to give up His Son. He must have seen it as a worthwhile trade. I, for one, am glad He did.”
Phoebe thought about Ian’s words in silence. It wasn’t long before she realized they’d arrived back at the hotel. Ian stopped the wagon and then climbed down. He came around to Phoebe and held up his arms. She nervously allowed him to put his hands on her waist. With little effort he lowered her to the ground, and for a moment all Phoebe could do was look into his eyes.
This man made her feel something no one else had. Was this what falling in love was all about? She began to tremble, uncertain what to say.
“You’re cold,” Ian said. “Let’s get you inside.”
Phoebe didn’t argue. The truth was, she didn’t feel the cold at all. What she did feel was the strange effect this man had on her, and how it confused her in a way she had never known before.
12
So you see, Graf Von Bergen, my friends at the American Sapphire Company are not bound by the injunction, nor any troubling legalities, at this time,” Mr. Thompson told Frederick as they surveyed the American operations.
A Beauty Refined Page 12
