A Family Arrangement

by Gabrielle Meyer

  “Will you be safe?” Her eyes were so tender in the lantern light, he wished he could stare into them forever.

  He wanted to reassure her, and somehow capture the essence of last evening, before everything had gone wrong, so he lifted his hand and placed his palm against her soft cheek. His fingertips nestled into her hair and he lowered his head to look her in the eyes. “I promise I will be safe, and I’ll return home on Friday evening to dance with you at the ball. You have my word.”

  She looked intently into his eyes. “Can I trust your word?”

  Charlotte had never had a man she could trust, and the weight of the responsibility almost buckled his legs. Not only did he have the Little Falls Company to save, but he also needed to prove to Charlotte he was a man of his word. “You can trust me.”

  Quiet strength flickered in her eyes and she put her hand up to rest on his. “Then I’ll be here waiting for that dance on Friday.”

  He wanted to kiss her—but there were still so many unanswered questions, and he didn’t want any regrets between them, especially when they had come so far.

  He lowered his hand and took a step back. “I’ll ask Ben to find somewhere else to stay while I’m gone. It wouldn’t be right for him to be here alone with you.” He took another step away from her, afraid what he might say or do with his emotions so frayed. “Why don’t you go to bed? It’s been a long day.”

  She nodded and started to turn back to the stairs, but she paused and looked a bit uncertain. “A letter came. I wish I didn’t have to show it to you, but you’d find out sooner or later.” She extracted a letter from her apron pocket. “It’s from the teacher, Helen Palmer.” She offered it to him. “Sh-she’s not coming.”

  Abram stared at her. “She’s not coming?”

  “She decided to get married instead.”

  Abram closed his eyes and turned away from Charlotte, not wanting her to see his disappointment. Defeat lay heavy upon his shoulders and he feared he’d lie down and never stand under the weight of it again. “While I’m gone, you should start packing for your move back to Iowa. It will take you some time to get the boys’ things ready to go.”

  Charlotte took a step toward him and laid her hand on his shoulder. “Abram, I can’t hold you to that deal now—not after—”

  “Yes, you can, and you will.” He shook his head. “You were right all along. This is no place for the boys. They’ll be better off with you in Iowa.”

  “You need to get some sleep, Abram. Things will look better in the morning.” Charlotte let go and waited for a moment, but when he didn’t answer, she walked up the stairs and disappeared.

  Abram finally gave way to the defeat and fell to his knees.

  * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the ball?” Charlotte asked Rachel the following Friday night as they stood in Abram’s kitchen.

  Rachel shook her head slowly as she admired Charlotte’s silk gown and curled hair. “No. I’m happy to stay with the children. You should go and have fun, though.”

  Charlotte glanced out the kitchen window, toward the road. The sun had already set and dusk had fallen on the last day of August, and still there was no sign of Abram. His absence had been more difficult than Charlotte realized it would be, and the only thing that had seen her through the week was the knowledge that she would dance with him one more time.

  But the ball had started an hour ago.

  “It’s not right for you to be alone here tonight, Charlotte—especially all dressed up like that.” Rachel handed Charlotte her long gloves. “It’s still light enough for you to walk to the hotel.”

  Charlotte took the gloves but shook her head. “I spent the last six years alone.” She tried not to let her voice catch. “I can stay home from a ball.” Charlotte had grown close to Rachel, and appreciated their ease in conversation. Rachel, like Ben, was the daughter of a fur trader and an Indian mother, and she spoke flawless English.

  “You’ve had many invitations to the ball,” Rachel said. “Surely, if you go, someone will escort you home.”

  Charlotte let out a disappointed sigh. “I wanted to go with Abram. I just hope he’s all right.”

  Work had resumed in the community as it had been before, with buildings going up and new citizens arriving every day. If anyone noticed Abram’s sudden absence, they didn’t comment. At least, not to Charlotte.

  Basic repairs had been made to the dam and gristmill, with Mr. Cheney’s supervision. The sawmill had continued to run, but the schoolhouse remained unfinished.

  Despite Abram’s orders to move back to Iowa, Charlotte had not packed. She couldn’t leave him now. None of this had been his fault.

  Charlotte looked outside once again and this time there was a man walking toward the house on Wood Street—but it wasn’t Abram.

  She tried not to look crestfallen when she opened the door and smiled. “Hello, Ben.”

  He stopped midstride, his face filled with pure delight. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you. Will you come in?”

  He approached the house but glanced over his shoulder toward the barn. “Is Abram back yet?”

  Charlotte shook her head.

  Ben stopped just outside the door and offered her a sad smile. “I’m sorry he didn’t come. You’re too pretty to be sitting home in that gown.”

  She couldn’t help but smile.

  He wore an evening coat and his customary braids, but tonight he had taken out the hoops in his ears. He looked dashing.

  “Why aren’t you at the ball?” she asked.

  “I was. But when you didn’t show up, I thought it was a shame that the prettiest lady in town wasn’t there, and decided to come get you myself.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t think—”

  “Charlotte.” He took a step forward and lifted her hand. “I know you had promised to go with Abram, but I also know how much you had looked forward to dancing tonight.” He bowed over her hand. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the ball?”

  She still hadn’t given him an answer in regard to his proposal. He had kept his distance while Abram was gone, and she hadn’t had a chance to seek him out. Tonight was the first time she would have a chance to speak to him. She owed him an answer. The least she could do was put aside her unhappiness and go with him to the ball.

  “Yes.”

  He looked up, a light in his brown eyes. “Yes?”

  She nodded.

  He kissed her hand. “You’ve made me the happiest man in town.”

  “Let me get my shawl and say goodbye to Rachel.”

  He let her go and she went back into the house.

  Rachel was still standing in the kitchen, where Charlotte had left her, and she had a smile on her face. “I see you have an escort.”

  Charlotte lifted her long white shawl from the back of the chair and quickly slipped on her gloves. “Reverend Lahaye will bring me.”

  “Have fun, and don’t worry about the children.”

  “Good night.” Charlotte waved as she passed through the lean-to and met Ben outside.

  He offered his elbow and she took it.

  They walked up Wood Street and then down Broadway toward the Northern Hotel.

  Neither one spoke for a while, but then Ben took a deep breath. “I know I said I didn’t want to press you for an answer, and that’s why I gave you time to think and pray this week—”

  “Thank you for that.”

  He stopped and his face was barely discernible in the dying light. “I thought I could be patient, but I need to know what you’re thinking.” He tilted his head toward the hotel. “Before we go in there, and I have to share you with all those other men, I’d like to know where we stand.”

  Dread knotted Charlotte’s stomach and
her throat became dry. She had grown to care for Ben like a brother, and she hated to break his heart—but it wasn’t fair for him to wonder any longer. Not when she knew the answer. “I’m sorry, Ben.”

  His shoulders dropped. “I had hoped—but I think I already knew.”

  “I am sorry.”

  He held up his hand. “You don’t owe me an apology, Charlotte. Really, you don’t.” He lowered his hand and studied her for a moment. “Are you in love with Abram?”

  Her heart leaped at his name but she shook her head, unable to answer him.

  He tucked her hand inside his elbow once again and held her close to his side. “I’ll pretend like I believe you.”

  “Come.” Charlotte tugged on his arm. “Let’s go try to have some fun and leave all our troubles out here on the street.”

  They entered the Northern Hotel and Charlotte was even more impressed than the first time. The lobby was filled with laughter and conversation. The majority of the occupants were men, and when she entered, she was swarmed with attention.

  They made their way through the crowd and passed into the ballroom.

  The candles were lit and a three-string orchestra played on a raised platform to their left. Here, three or four dozen women spun about the room in the arms of their partners, while other men waited on the outskirts for their chance to dance.

  Charlotte was handed a dance card, and quickly surmised how many dances she had missed and how many were left. She penciled Ben’s name in for the first and the last dances. The other spaces were quickly filled by men she had come to know sitting around her kitchen table earlier that winter.

  When the next song began, Ben offered his hand and he walked Charlotte onto the dance floor. “I warn you,” he said. “I’m not very good.”

  She grinned and felt the joy from the other dancers bubble up within her. “Neither am I.”

  They joined the dancers as they swirled about the room and, within seconds, Ben was laughing.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You lied to me. You’re a magnificent dancer.”

  She added her laughter to his. “Will you forgive me?”

  “Always.”

  The evening continued much the same, with one dance partner after another. Charlotte enjoyed herself immensely, but worry began to visit her when she wondered why Abram had not returned.

  As each dance was checked off her dance card, Charlotte’s disappointment mounted. She found herself looking toward the door every chance she could—and each time her melancholy grew a bit deeper.

  The last song was finally announced and Ben found her in the crowded ballroom. “You must be exhausted,” he said. “Have you had a break since we danced last?”

  She shook her head and glanced at the door one more time, but still Abram had not appeared. Tears threatened but she looked back at Ben, determined to enjoy this last dance.

  He took her into his arms as the first note struck against the violin. “Shall we?”

  She followed his lead and he spun her around the room in a lively waltz.

  “Have I improved since our last dance?” he asked with a laugh.

  She offered a halfhearted smile, wishing she could enjoy herself. “Have you heard word about Abram?”

  Ben shook his head. “I asked Hubbard and Cheney, but neither one have heard from him since he left.”

  A sinking feeling overcame Charlotte as a thought took root. What if Abram had left...for good, just like Thomas had? What if the lure of something better, or easier, had been too great and he had simply walked away from all of them?

  The song ended and the couples stopped dancing. Everyone cheered loudly for the orchestra and each member stood and took a bow.

  “Shall I take you home?” Ben asked.

  Charlotte offered a quick nod, hoping to hold in her emotions until she was home, alone, and in her own room.

  “Just a moment,” one of the orchestra members called out. “We’ve just had a special request from our town’s founder, Mr. Abram Cooper. At his request, we will have an encore performance of ‘Wings of the Phoenix.’”

  “Abram?” Charlotte looked about the room, desperate to see him healthy and whole. “Where is he?”

  She turned, her heart beating rapidly, searching—and then she saw him, coming toward her, his eyes focused solely on her. She wanted to soak up the sight of him. Memorize every plane of his handsome face and every nuance of his blue eyes. He wore his evening coat, but he hadn’t taken the time to shave—though he looked more attractive than ever.

  “Abram.”

  She didn’t realize she had reached for him until he took hold of her hands. The music played and she found herself in his confident hold, twirling her around the dance floor. All else faded as she lost herself in the longing in his eyes.

  “Charlotte—” He broke off his words and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest and they danced.

  She was so secure in his arms, she closed her eyes and allowed him to lead her. She remembered their first dance and how well they had moved together. But she also remembered why she had put him at a distance that evening. Because he was a wanderer—or so she thought.

  Please, Lord, let me be wrong about Abram Cooper.

  Neither one said another word as the music played and they waltzed on.

  Abram rested his cheek against Charlotte’s head and she inhaled his scent, reveling in the feel of his arms around her.

  She wanted the song to last forever, but all too soon it ended and they came to a stop. The other dancers clapped for the musicians, but Abram only stared at Charlotte.

  “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I tried to get here—”

  “It’s all right.”

  “It’s not. I made a promise—”

  “And you fulfilled it.”

  She realized he was still holding her hand when he squeezed it. “May I walk you home?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to say yes but then remembered how she had arrived at the ball. “I came with Ben.”

  The disappointment on his face was strong and swift.

  Ben must have been watching, because he approached them now. “Welcome back, Abram.”

  “Ben.” Abram nodded at him. “Thank you for bringing Charlotte to the dance for me.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Ben glanced between Charlotte and Abram, understanding in his eyes. “I imagine you’d like to take her home.”

  Abram grinned at his friend. “I would.”

  Ben bowed. “By all means.” He took Charlotte’s hand and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  “Thank you for coming to get me.”

  Ben bowed one more time and then walked away.

  The room filled with conversation and Abram stepped closer to Charlotte. Her pulse beat hard at the thought of walking home with him and finally telling him what she had come to realize.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “Abram.” Mr. Hubbard appeared behind Abram. “I’m happy you’re here. We’re eager to hear what you learned about the venture in Duluth. Is there really copper up there?”

  “Copper?” Charlotte frowned. “What does he mean ‘the venture in Duluth’?” She paused as dread filled her soul. “Are you leaving Little Falls, Abram?”

  Abram glanced around and leaned closer. “This is not the time nor the place to talk about my plans, Charlotte. I’ve just returned and there are many things to discuss with Cheney and Hubbard.”

  She looked at Hubbard and then back at Abram, disillusionment creeping into her heart. “Is that why you went, because you heard there’s copper in Duluth? Are you planning to chase another scheme?”

  “It’s not like that. We need money for the Little Falls Company,
and if we strike now, we’ll get more than we need in Duluth. The talk up there—”

  “The talk. That’s exactly right. It’s only talk.” She wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling sick to her stomach. All her father had ever done was talk. “It’s gold fever is all it is—” She paused, incredulity in her voice. Thomas had left her for gold fever. “I knew you couldn’t stay, Abram. I tried to tell myself I was wrong—but I wasn’t.” She shook her head, anger and disappointment blurring her vision.

  “Charlotte, Cheney wants to turn the Little Falls Company into a joint stockholders’ corporation.” Abram’s voice was desperate—pleading. “I can’t let him. I’ve fought too long and too hard to give my company over to a board of directors.”

  “So you’re going to go mining for copper?” She fisted her hands at her sides. “That makes no sense, Abram. It’s just another scheme. And it will fail. If something sounds too good to be true, it usually is. Real success comes from hard work and dedication. You have to stay with something for it to flourish.” She could hardly look at him. “It’s called commitment.” She bit her bottom lip to stop its trembling then pushed past him and Hubbard.

  She maneuvered through the crowd and several people tried to stop her, but the only thing she wanted was to go home.

  To Iowa.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Charlotte.” Abram moved to follow her but Hubbard took his arm.

  “Cheney’s madder than a tickled rattlesnake,” Hubbard said. “We’ve been waiting for you all evening.”

  “I have to talk to Charlotte.” He had to convince her that he wasn’t following another scheme but had Little Falls’ best interest at heart.

  “Miss Lee can wait.” Hubbard nodded toward a side door in the ballroom. “Cheney can’t.”

  “She can’t walk home alone. It’s not safe.”

  “Look. She found Reverend Lahaye. I’m sure he’ll walk her home.”

  Abram let out a frustrated sigh then followed Hubbard through the ballroom. He turned his head several times to make sure Charlotte was safe with Ben and then entered a small parlor adjoining the ballroom.