“Jared,” she said softly, “I’m sure Uncle Bill will come around. But just in case we’re not clear, I want to tell you straight out, I forgive you and your pa for all the past hurts, whether real or imagined.”
He gave her a little smile. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Deep in my heart, I never was angry with you. I think I just absorbed Uncle Bill’s attitude about your father, though, and that wasn’t right.”
He shrugged. “You were loyal to your uncle, and that’s not all bad.”
They heard Annie’s practical voice coming from the master bedroom. As they walked past the open doorway, the old woman said, “There the kids are now.”
Suddenly Uncle Bill filled the doorway, holding a soft white bundle in his arms. Patricia and Jared stopped, and Patricia reached out to lift the edge of the blanket, exposing the new infant’s little red face.
“Oh! She’s sleeping!”
Uncle Bill nodded with a smile. “Jared, Patricia,” he said formally, “I would like to introduce you to my daughter.”
Patricia had already seen the baby, but she could play along.
“We’re charmed, sir. And what is this adorable creature’s name?”
Bill’s smile extended to nearly split his face in two. “We’ve decided, finally. May I present Hazel Dorothy Logan?”
Tears sprang into Patricia’s eyes. “My mother’s name,” she whispered.
Bill nodded. “Jared, my lad, are you still walking with the Lord?”
Jared cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. I’m doing my best, with His help.”
Bill nodded. “Would you give a prayer of thanks for this little one’s safe arrival?”
Jared lowered his saddlebags gently to the floor. “I’d be happy to, sir.”
After Jared’s prayer of thanks, little Hazel began to fuss, and Bill hastily handed her over to Patricia. “If you wouldn’t mind, Trish, could you please take her back to Edna? I think she wants her momma, and I need to speak to Jared for a minute.”
“I’d love to.” Patricia cuddled the baby, wrapped in a soft white blanket, against her shoulder and carried her into the bedroom.
Jared and Bill walked back to the living area together.
“Have a seat, Jared,” Bill said.
Jared sat down on a leather-covered chair. His skin prickled all over, and he made himself sit still and not scratch, but he couldn’t deny he was nervous.
“Boy, I want to apologize.”
Relief washed over Jared, and he closed his eyes for an instant. “No need for that, Mr. Logan.”
“Yes, there is. I had no call to be upset with you. Well, if the truth were known, I’ve no right to stay mad at your father, either, after all this time. I’ll give it to you straight. I deliberately nourished bitterness in my heart for the last ten years. I was angry with Rupert. I admit it. He was wrong. Well … so was I.” Bill looked Jared in the eye. “Can you forgive me?”
“Oh yes, sir. That’s not hard at all. I’ve missed you and Trisha something awful, and I hoped you’d let me stop a day or two with you while I look around for some land.”
“Land? You want to move back up here? What about your father?”
Jared bit his upper lip. He reached in his pocket for the envelope and leaned forward with it in his hand.
“Seems I went about this all backward, sir. The first thing I should’ve told you is that my pa died three or four weeks ago, down in Texas. And shortly before he passed away, he wrote this letter to you. One of the last things he did was to ask me to bring the letter and the black colt that’s out in your barn. That’s why I came, sir. That’s how I met up with Patricia. I was on my way to deliver this letter to you, along with Chief.”
Bill’s hand came forward, an inch at a time, until his fingers touched the envelope. Tears shone in his eyes. “I’ve been a big old fool.”
Jared swallowed hard and said nothing.
Bill ripped open the envelope and withdrew the paper that was inside. Jared winced as he saw the lines written in his father’s shaky hand. He looked toward the window. The sun still shone outside, and it appeared the storm was truly over.
Bill let out a big sigh. “You should hear this, too, Jared. Do you mind if I read it to you?”
“No, sir.”
“It says, ‘Bill, if you’re reading this, it means that I’m gone. Well, there are some things you need to know. When your turn comes, we’ll meet again. My son has told me many, many times that I needed Jesus. I admit I was pretty mean to him about that. Told him he could believe that if he wanted, but I was doing fine on my own. Rupert Booker didn’t need “saving,” as you called it.’”
Jared bowed his head as he heard the words. So often he’d tried to tell his father about Christ. Hearing again how annoying he found that made his eyes burn and his nose stuff up.
Bill went on reading, his voice choking now and then. “ ‘Yes, Bill, the truth is, I resented your part in getting my son to be religious. That was your doing. You told Jared when he was a boy that he needed to be saved, and Jared went along. I didn’t. I guess that was the beginning of my bad feelings toward you.’”
Tears poured from Jared’s eyes, and he swiped at them with the back of his hand.
“ ‘And then the whole thing with the wild horse herd. I wanted that stud. He was faster than anything I’d ever seen. Well, it’s time to put all that behind us. You were right, Bill. About God and about a lot of things. I believe in Him now. He’s forgiven me all the things I did to you and Jared and my wife and anybody else who crossed my path over the years. And I’m asking you to forgive me, too. I want you to have the black colt, Chief. He’s the best colt I ever bred, and I hope you’ll take him as a reminder of the friendship we did have in the past. He’s black like my heart used to be. But I’ll see you again one day, up in heaven. Very truly yours, Rupert Booker.’”
A huge lump in his throat prevented Jared from speaking. He stared at Bill Logan, knowing his face was streaked with tears and not caring. A slow smile spread over Bill’s face as he folded the letter.
“My father believed,” Jared croaked out.
“Sounds like it. I’m really glad, son.”
Jared nodded and pulled in a deep breath. “I do hope you’ll accept his gift, sir.”
“Well now.” Bill sat back, looking very pleased. “You know, Jared, this isn’t a good time to buy land. Everything’s under a heap of snow. Why don’t you stay here with us until spring? I could use you. We do a lot of repairs and such in the winter. Get our wood for next year down out of the hills—you remember.”
Jared nodded.
“Well, if you want to stay on here, I’ll give you a job. And next spring, when the snow is off, I’ll help you find a good place for ranching. There’s a fellow over on the North Branch who was talking about selling out last summer. I don’t know if he did or not, but we could find out. It’s a decent spread.”
Jared cleared his throat, wondering if he could trust his voice. “Thank you, sir. I’d like that a lot, but there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?” Bill fixed his gaze on him, and Jared sat a little straighter.
“I love Patricia, sir. I think I always have. I’d like your permission to court her.”
Patricia couldn’t keep a smile off her face as she watched her aunt hold the sweet baby. Dinner was over and the kitchen put to rights. Uncle Bill and Jared had drifted out to the barn, and she’d settled in for a cozy chat with Aunt Edna.
“I like your young man.” Edna shifted on her snowy white pillows. “I expect I’ll be up and about tomorrow, and I look forward to getting to know him better.”
“You’d best take it easy for a few days.” Patricia leaned forward and touched the baby’s hand with her fingertip. “She’s so soft!”
Edna smiled. “I think she’s sleeping now. I’m feeling a little tuckered myself.”
“Let me take her. I’ll put her in the cradle. Or maybe I’ll just
hold her and watch her sleep for a while, if that’s all right.” Patricia looked eagerly at her aunt. Edna did look weary.
“Go ahead. But if Bill comes in, tell him not to stay away. I want to see him even if I’ve dozed off.”
Patricia stood and bent over her to ease the slumbering infant into her own arms. Edna sighed, adjusted the covers, and closed her eyes. “Thank you, dear.”
Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, Patricia nuzzled the baby’s silky hair. “You darling.”
Uncle Bill and Jared were coming in from the barn. They stomped the snow from their boots and wiped their feet on the rag mat inside the door to the sitting room.
“Aunt Edna’s resting, but she wants you to go in anyway, Uncle Bill,” she said.
“All right, but that’s my daughter you’re holding, missy. You take good care of her.” Bill hung up his coat.
Patricia grinned and sank gently onto the sofa. “You needn’t worry about that. I’m going to cuddle her for a few minutes, and then I’ll put her in the cradle for a nap.”
Her uncle left the room, and Jared came hesitantly to stand beside her. He looked down at little Hazel.
“Isn’t she an angel?” Patricia asked.
He smiled.
She looked up at him and tucked her skirt against her thigh. “Sit down, Jared. She’s just the sweetest thing I ever saw.”
“I recall you mothering a rabbit kit when you were about eight years old.” He folded down onto the seat beside her, looking at the baby.
The memory brought a flash of joy. “Lulu! I loved her so much.”
“She kept getting in the garden.”
“Yes, we did have a time with her.”
“Well, I expect you all will have a handful with this one, too.” The smile still played at his lips. “Think a human kit is better than a bunny?”
She wrinkled up her face at him. “You’re horrid! Of course it is. I want one of my own someday—that’s for certain sure.”
Suddenly she realized that he had inched closer and extended his arm along the back of the sofa.
“Trisha, if you can give me just a teeny, weeny bit of attention here, I’d like to say something.”
“What is it?” She turned her head and found Jared’s brown eyes, warm and tender, assessing her. She swallowed hard but didn’t draw back.
“Your uncle and I had a chat earlier.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “What about?”
“About us.”
“You and Uncle Bill?” she asked.
“Well, that, too, but I meant you and me.”
It was a moment before she could respond to that. “Was he upset with you? I told him you were a perfect gentleman, and that you saved my life. It wasn’t your fault that we almost—”
He reached out and brushed back a strand of her hair, and she sat very still, looking deep into his eyes.
“That wasn’t what we talked about.”
“Oh.” It was a mere squeak.
“Trisha, this may seem kind of sudden, but … well, I don’t know how else to put it. I love you. I asked Bill if I could court you.”
“What did he say?” she whispered.
“He said it was up to you. Said he couldn’t force you to let me, but if you decided you cared for me, he wouldn’t be able to stop you, either.”
She smiled. “Smart man.”
Hazel whimpered and stirred, and Patricia looked down at her. “There now, baby. Shh.” She glanced up at Jared again. “Do you want to hold her?”
“Who? Me?” His eyes widened. “I don’t think so. She’d probably cry if I did.”
Patricia chuckled and nestled the baby closer, brushing her cheek against Hazel’s head. “You do want children, don’t you, Jared?”
“Who? Me?”
She widened her eyes at his repetition, and he had the grace to blush. “Yes, you. I’m speaking to the man who just said he wanted to court me. It’s important.”
“Well, sure. Someday. I mean …” He hesitated and then held out his arms.
Patricia leaned over and kissed his cheek, then carefully transferred Hazel to him. Jared gulped and sat back, staring down at the baby.
“Don’t be so stiff,” Patricia whispered. He shifted slightly, easing Hazel’s tiny head into the crook of his arm.
“She hardly weighs anything.” He glanced up and shot her a tentative smile. “Pretty amazing.”
“Yeah.” Their gazes locked.
“Hey, you two.” Uncle Bill emerged from the hallway and came to the back of the sofa. “Let me see that little dumpling.”
Jared stood and passed the baby to him over the back of the sofa.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Bill asked.
“No, sir. But she sure is a pretty little thing.”
“Oh yes, she is.”
Patricia laughed as Uncle Bill walked back toward the bedrooms, uttering baby talk all the way.
Jared sat down again, suddenly shy it seemed. His smile flickered then disappeared as he sucked in a deep breath.
“Jared, I’d be honored if you’d court me.”
They both sat stock-still for an instant. His expression cleared, and everything about him seemed to soften: his eyes, his lips, the set of his shoulders. He lifted his arm behind her and slid closer. She met his kiss with exultant anticipation.
Epilogue
Thanksgiving morning, 1914
Patricia and Jared leaned together on the bottom half of the foaling stall’s door.
“He’s absolutely magnificent,” she breathed.
Jared smiled. “Not yet, but he’s got the lines to be in a couple of years.” He slid his arm around Trisha and squeezed her.
“I suppose I’d better get into the house and get ready. But I had to see the new arrival first.”
“I knew you’d want to see him.”
“It was very considerate of Lady to drop her foal on our wedding day.”
“Wasn’t it?” Jared drew her into his arms and kissed her.
Patricia lingered for a moment and then pulled back. “Here now, you’re not even supposed to see me before the ceremony.”
“Aw, your Aunt Edna’s the superstitious one. Just sneak in the kitchen door, and don’t let her know we came out here to see the foal.”
“What if she’s in the kitchen now?” Patricia stifled a giggle and met his next kiss with enthusiasm.
A moment later, Jared released her and turned her away from the stall, his arm about her shoulders. “All right, I suppose we have to go in.”
“Yes, we do. Our guests will be arriving in less than an hour.” They walked to the barn door. Jared’s wagon was already loaded and sitting on the barn floor, loaded with her hope chest, assorted household goods, and the bags that held her clothing. “I’m glad we’ll only be a few miles from Uncle Bill and Aunt Edna.”
“Me, too. God must have had that ranch waiting for me to buy and your uncle primed to help me find it.”
“We’ll raise the best beef in Colorado,” she said with a sigh.
“And a whole tribe of little Booker cowpokes.” Hand in hand, they crossed the yard to the kitchen door of the ranch house.
Susan Page Davis is the author of more than sixty Christian novels and novellas, which have sold more than 1.5 million copies. Her historical novels have won numerous awards, including the Carol Award, the Will Rogers Medallion for Western Fiction, and the Inspirational Readers’ Choice Contest. She has also been a finalist in the More than Magic Contest and Willa Literary Awards. She lives in western Kentucky with her husband. She’s the mother of six and grandmother of ten. Visit her website at: www.susanpagedavis.com.
Dressed in Scarlet
by Darlene Franklin
Dedication
To Anita Gardner, who joins me on my writing adventures.
We shared an unforgettable weekend at the Brown Palace Hotel.
Thanks for all your support, Mom!
A special thanks to the staff at the Brown Palace for th
eir marvelous service and patience with my questions.
Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies…. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
PROVERBS 31:10, 21
Chapter 1
December, 1913
Fabrizio Ricci glanced around the garage at the Brown Palace, making sure everything was in order. Peerless Roadsters jostled next to Cadillac Phaetons and a single Ford Model T, a bit of an oddity for the Brown’s well-heeled clientele. Big or small, fancy or plain, he loved all his charges, even the smell of motor oil that permeated the air. His job was to keep the cars running and available to hotel guests. He loved driving cars he could never otherwise afford. Whatever money he didn’t give to help his family, he saved toward having his own shop.
No one would drive anywhere tonight in the storm that hit Denver yesterday. More than twenty-four hours later, the snow had not even slowed down. Anyone would be a fool to drive in weather like this. Even the trolleys that he sometimes took had stopped running. It was a good thing he kept a pair of Nordic skis in the garage. If he didn’t leave soon, he would have to spend the night at the hotel, or longer, if the snow kept up. As the only son remaining at home, he knew his parents depended on his help.
Fabrizio changed his work shoes for boots and strapped on the skis. He hadn’t planned for the cold, but he didn’t think that would be a problem, not with the long woolen scarf knitted in green and yellow by Mama. He would dress like that character in the Christmas story. What was his name? Bob Cratchit, that was it. A Christmas Carol had to be one of the best stories in the English language. Not as beautiful as Italian, of course, or that’s what Papa would say.
Fabrizio looked out the window at the swirling snow, wishing he had taken the time to go to the kitchen for a last cup of hot coffee before he left. Too late now. The snow danced in the air before landing gracefully on the ground. Bella neve. Beautiful snow.
Wrapping his scarf around his nose and throat before winding its length around his body, Fabrizio pulled his cap as far down on his head as it would reach and turned the collar of his coat up over the scarf. He hadn’t brought any mittens, but his work gloves should do the job. He pulled them on and hoped the oil stains wouldn’t get on his clothes. Mama complained about his soiled work clothes; four sisters created enough laundry without him adding any more.
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