“Mr. Vesper, madam.”
Clara nodded and crossed the room to greet her brother-in-law. “You look chilled to the bone. Why don’t we stand by the fire so you can warm up?”
“It’s been the coldest spring I’ve ever known in New York City. Who ever heard of it being chilly in May?” He went to the fire and stretched out his hands. “I hope you aren’t suffering from it.”
Clara came to stand beside him. “No. I haven’t gone out at all. Not since . . . the funeral.”
He nodded. “A widow can hardly be expected to go out in public after her husband’s death.” He noted her attire. “Black makes you look so pale. I don’t think Adolph would want you to dress that way.”
She smiled and gave a little shrug. “Visitors expect it, and it’s of little interest to me one way or the other.”
“Have you had many visitors?”
“Quite a few. Everyone wants to offer their condolences and see how I’m doing.”
“And what of your mother?”
“I had a short note from her. She told me she would be here soon. She had numerous things to attend to in Florida in order to close the house. Otherwise I have no idea of when she will arrive.” Clara didn’t bother to add that she had already decided to be unavailable to her mother’s tirades and insisting ways. However, she knew that if she told Otto what she had in mind instead, he would never approve of it.
“Well, we shall, as they say, cross that bridge when we get to it.” Otto straightened. He looked at her strangely for a moment. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his expression became rather intense.
“Is something wrong, Otto?”
“I just don’t like the idea of you being at your mother’s mercy.”
Clara shook her head. “I’ve always been at her mercy. However, I am dreading her return as well. Once she realizes that I’m destitute, she will no doubt make it her duty to see me properly placed in another arranged marriage. But I’m not a child, and she no longer has a right to manage my life.”
“I agree. Furthermore . . .” He paused and ran his finger along his mustache. “Clara, I know it’s only been a month since we lost Adolph, but I have been thinking on something. I wonder if you would hear me out.”
Clara saw something in his face that made her uncomfortable. “I suppose you want to discuss the designs.” She moved quickly to the table. “I have been working on the last four as you can see. However, they are nowhere near complete.”
He came to her side and touched her arm. “Clara, that isn’t what I want to talk about.”
She looked up. “No?”
“Come sit with me.” He led her to a settee that faced the fireplace.
Clara took a seat, her discomfort growing by the minute. It suddenly dawned on her what Otto might have in mind. When he pulled up the ottoman directly in front of her, she was certain.
“I hope this won’t sound callous, but you and I both know that your marriage to my brother was not one of love. You were an excellent wife to him, however. I have nothing but the highest regard for how you have comported yourself over the years.”
“Thank you.” She barely breathed the words. It felt as though an iron band had tightened around her chest.
“However, what started out merely as high regard has developed into something more. I have grown to love you, Clara. Of course, I’ve kept it to myself because of Adolph, but now that he’s gone and has left you in such a precarious situation, I feel it only right to offer you my hand in marriage.”
Clara felt the blood drain from her face. For a moment a wave of dizziness made her wonder if she would be able to reply. But Otto squeezed her arm and hurried to continue his appeal.
“As I said, I know it’s only been a month, and I wouldn’t expect you to marry me right away. We could wait as long as six months if you like.”
“That long, hmmm.”
“Clara, I know you must be completely taken off guard, but I assure you that my intentions are only the very best. I love you, and I care deeply for your children. I want them to be my own.”
“You are right, Otto.” His expression took on a look of hope, which she quickly crushed. “It’s much too soon.”
He frowned. “I am sorry. I acted only out of concern for your well-being. I didn’t want you caught up in your mother’s games only to find yourself forced to marry someone you don’t even know.”
“And I appreciate your concern, Otto. Truly, I do. You are more considerate than most brothers-in-law would be, and I am grateful. I’ve given thought to what you said when you first told me about Adolph’s lack of financial sense. I would like to continue designing jewelry for you. I presume from the high sums we can garner that my share would be enough to live on.”
“Of course,” Otto replied, nodding. “Of course. But how will you hold your mother at bay?”
Clara smiled. “I’m not the little girl I was fourteen years ago when she forced me from the only place I’ve ever been happy. She doesn’t frighten me, nor should she worry you.”
Otto let go his hold on her arm. He got to his feet so quickly that Clara thought maybe he was angry. “Perhaps if you just told her that I have proposed and you intend to accept, then she’ll be appeased and once again leave you alone.”
“I wouldn’t feel comfortable lying to her. You see, Otto, I don’t intend to ever marry again. I have only ever loved one man, and I have no desire to pretend to love another.”
He looked at her with an odd expression. “So you actually loved my brother?”
Clara realized that if she denied it, she would have to explain about Curtis and the ranch, and she had no intention of telling Otto about either.
“Please, let us say no more on the subject. I’m afraid it’s making me quite sad.” That much was true. Anytime Curtis came to mind, it only served to remind her of what she had lost. Of what she could never have.
That night Clara arranged for Mim and the children to join her for dinner. It was far too painful to sit at the table and pretend to be enthralled with the meal when she was so obviously alone.
“I don’t like this green stuff,” Hunter declared, holding up an asparagus spear. Hollandaise sauce dripped from it onto the tablecloth. “Do I have to eat it?”
Clara shook her head. “No. I know neither of you is used to such things. Just put it back on your plate.”
“I think it tastes good,” Maddy offered as if someone had asked for her opinion. “Hunter is a ninny.”
“Maddy, that’s not very nice. Don’t call your brother names,” Mim interjected.
The child fixed her nanny with a most serious look. “Well, he is. Ruth told me that, and when she explained that a ninny was someone who was silly . . . I agreed.”
Clara looked down at her lap, lest the children see she was forcing back a laugh. Ruth, a young woman who acted as her personal maid, was quite right. Hunter could be very much the ninny.
“Be that as it may, Miss Maddy, it’s not proper dinner conversation,” Mim replied.
Raising her head, Clara smiled at her children. “Perhaps a better topic of conversation would be this: How would you like to go on a trip?”
“Where?” asked Maddy, ever the practical one.
“I thought I might like to take you to meet my aunt and uncle. They are very nice people who live on a ranch in Montana. They have horses and sheep, chickens and all sorts of other animals.”
“Could we learn to ride a horse?” Hunter asked.
“I would imagine so.” Clara looked at Mim, whose expression suggested interest. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. I wrote to my aunt shortly after Adolph’s death. I told her I might like to bring the children and come for a visit this summer.”
“That would no doubt do all of you good,” Mim replied.
“Would we get to ride on a train?” Hunter asked.
“You are quite concerned with riding,” Mim said, laughing.
Clara couldn’t help but laugh as well. “We wou
ld most assuredly ride on the train. It’s a long, long way to Montana.”
“When can we go?” Maddy asked.
“I’m not sure.” Clara hadn’t completely thought through her idea. First she had to go to the bank and see if there was enough money left in her personal account to fund such a trip. She didn’t want to ask Otto for fear he would disapprove and make her plans difficult. “I should know more in a couple of days. But in the meantime, say nothing to anyone—especially not to Uncle Otto or Grandmother Oberlin.”
Maddy frowned. “Is she here?”
Clara shook her head. “Not yet, but she will be soon enough.”
“I don’t like her.” Maddy’s matter-of-fact statement was one Clara could completely embrace, but she didn’t want the child to disrespect her elders. Even if those elders were difficult.
“You shouldn’t say such things. It’s not respectful.”
Maddy shrugged. “You told me to always tell the truth.”
Clara was momentarily stumped. The child had a point. Mim came to the rescue.
“Maddy, some people are unhappy with life and with themselves. I’ve a feeling your grandmother is one of those people, so you shouldn’t be quick to judge. Instead, pray for her to find joy that her heart might be made lighter.”
“Nanny Mim is right,” Clara said, noting the time. “Now, if you both finish with your dinner, I happen to know that Cook has made some very special cake for dessert.”
“Is it chocolate with cherries?” Hunter asked, most hopeful.
Clara nodded and laughed. “It is indeed.”
He quickly pushed aside the asparagus and focused on finishing his roast beef, while Maddy daintily wiped her mouth and pointed to her plate.
“I have finished.”
It was only a matter of minutes before Hunter made the same declaration and Clara signaled for the footman to clear the table. She suppressed a yawn and looked again at the clock. Although it was only seven, she found herself longing for a hot bath and bed. It seemed all she wanted to do these days was sleep.
“Maybe it would be better if the children enjoyed their dessert in the nursery.” Mim got to her feet and looked to Clara.
“Perhaps so. I know it’s hard for them to balance on these pillows.”
Hunter wiggled from side to side on the pillows they’d put under him. “It’s kind of fun.” Mim helped Maddy down, while Hunter dove over the side of the chair. “I can get down by my ownself.”
“Very good, Master Hunter. Now both of you kiss your mother and then go straight up to the nursery, and I’ll ask Cook to have the dessert brought upstairs.”
They did as instructed, then headed out of the room. Hunter took off like lightning while Maddy followed behind at a more sedate pace. Mim waited until the children were out of sight before speaking.
“I wonder if you would mind my accompanying you west. I have family in Bismarck and would very much enjoy seeing them.” She looked hesitant. “In fact, I haven’t quite known how to bring this up, but I am . . . that is . . . I would like to . . . put in my notice.”
Clara couldn’t have been more stunned. “Your notice? But why, Mim? Is something wrong?”
Mim smiled. “Not at all. It’s just that I’ve had a proposal of marriage from a man I’ve long loved.”
“Oh, Mim!” Clara jumped to her feet. “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”
“I hoped you might be. I had planned to tell you the day we got word about Mr. Vesper’s death, but I didn’t feel I could desert you, given all that had happened.”
“Oh, my dear Mim. You should have said something. I would have understood.” Clara looked beyond the dining room and into the hall to make certain the children were gone. “I wasn’t quite forthright with what I said to the children. The fact is, I do not plan to return to New York.”
“I had a feeling,” Mim replied.
“You did?” Clara couldn’t hide her surprise. “I hope I’m not so obvious to everyone.”
“Not at all. I know how much you love your aunt and uncle and how you long to return to the life you knew there.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do. I think the simpler life will be better for the children.”
“I think it sounds like a wonderful plan.”
“But I’d rather we not say anything to the twins about this being a move rather than a visit. I don’t want them accidentally telling Otto or my mother.”
The next day Clara waited while the teller counted out her money. There was more than an ample amount to purchase train tickets. After that, Clara could write to Otto and let him know where to send her money. He would have a much harder time arguing with her while more than a thousand miles separated them.
“Mrs. Vesper,” a man said, approaching from her right. “I was so sorry to hear about your husband’s demise.”
She gathered her money and put it into her purse. “Thank you.” She looked at him through her veil. “Have we met?”
“Oh, I don’t suppose we have. I’m the bank manager, Mr. Walker.”
“I am pleased to meet you. I was just closing out my old account.”
“I do understand, but I hope you will continue to allow us to help with your needs.”
Clara didn’t want to give away her plans, so she nodded. “Of course. I just want to consolidate everything so I can better understand what I have on hand.”
“Well, in that case, you will want to review the contents of your husband’s bank box.”
“Bank box?” She hadn’t known of such a thing, but neither had she known her husband was given over to bad financial decisions and gambling.
“Yes. He has a safe deposit box. You will no doubt have his key. Perhaps among his other keys?”
“Yes, perhaps.” Clara hadn’t even begun to go through her husband’s things. Nor had she really intended to. Since everything apparently belonged to Otto, she didn’t know whether this was something he wanted to do himself.
“Well, just bring the key and ask one of the tellers to find me. I will be happy to personally assist you, Mrs. Vesper.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.”
Clara found herself thinking about the box throughout the day. By the time she had Mr. Lawrence drive her back to the house, she was determined to search for the key.
For the first time since her husband’s death, Clara entered his bedroom. The room smelled stale with a hint of tobacco. Adolph had enjoy smoking his pipe by the fire while he read before bed. Clara had often caught the scent of his favorite tobacco from her room, even though the doors were seldom opened.
She went first to his dresser. Atop was a picture of her on their wedding day. The girl in that photo was dressed most impeccably in the latest, most stylish of wedding attire. Clara remembered the exact moment she had posed for that picture. All she had thought of was Curtis and how she would have to forever put him from her mind if she was to accept her new lot in life. Without giving the photograph further consideration, she placed it facedown.
Next she pulled out the top drawer and began to look through the neatly pressed handkerchiefs, gloves, and collars. No sign of a key. Nor was there any key in the remaining dresser drawers. For a moment Clara looked around the room, wondering where else her husband might have put the bank box key. Her gaze fell upon a side table near the bed. She went to it and pulled open the drawer. A gasp escaped her at what she saw there. A revolver.
Clara had no desire to touch the thing. She’d been taught a few things about guns when she was on the ranch. The most important of which was to “never handle a gun unless you know what you’re doing or someone is there to instruct you.” She had neither the knowledge nor the assistance, and so left it alone.
She started to close the drawer, then stopped. Why had her husband felt the need for a gun? She had never once heard him speak of purchasing one. Had someone threatened him? Was it possible he had been murdered because someone had something against him? Perhaps it hadn’t been a r
andom robbery. She closed the drawer. There was no sense in contemplating the matter. The police surely had more understanding of the matter than she did.
After lunch Clara decided to investigate her husband’s office. She supposed it possible he would have kept the key in his desk with his business things, despite its being a personal item. Her search was rewarded almost immediately. The key was there amid papers, pencils, stamps, and ink pads. The name of the bank was clearly etched at the top.
Clara looked at the clock. There was still time to return to the bank and investigate the contents of the safe deposit box. She hurried into the hall, nearly knocking Perkins off his feet.
“Oh, Perkins, I am so sorry. I’m afraid I am a bit mindless today.”
“It is quite all right, madam. Might I be of assistance?”
“Yes. Would you ask Mr. Lawrence to bring the car around? I need to go back to the bank.”
“Of course.”
Clara hurried upstairs for her black hat and gloves, as well as her purse. She couldn’t help but think of the gun in the next room. Perhaps she would have Perkins remove it. There was no telling if it was loaded, but she presumed it was. It was definitely a danger to the children if they should wander in there and find it.
The trip to the bank was slowed by heavy afternoon traffic. The population of the city seemed to have doubled just since morning. Clara wasn’t at all sure what was going on, but it seemed that people were everywhere.
“What do you suppose has happened?” Clara asked her driver after several minutes of stalled traffic. Perhaps Hunter’s desire for a circus had come to be.
“I haven’t any idea, ma’am. Would you like for me to ask someone?”
Clara spied a policeman. “Yes, ask that officer.”
The driver nodded. Since traffic hadn’t moved in some time, Mr. Lawrence jumped out of the car and made his way to where the police officer stood. Clara watched him speak to the man, and then after a few moments Mr. Lawrence returned.
“Well, what has happened?”
“Apparently, ma’am, Congress has passed the Selective Service Act, authorizing a draft.”
A Love Transformed Page 4
