An anxious sense of dread settled on the room. “Please pray for me.”
Madeline came to Clara and took hold of her shoulders. “Are you sure you’ll be all right without me?”
Clara nodded with a smile that she didn’t really feel. “Curtis is here. I’m sure if Mother gets too outrageous in her comments or tone, he’ll come to my defense.” She wasn’t entirely sure Curtis could manage to do much, but it comforted her just to know he was there.
Madeline looked hesitant but nodded. “All right. I’ll see to the children, and then I’ll return to make sure you have someone at your side in case Harriet decides to push you around.”
Another knock sounded and Clara stiffened. “I’d better answer it.”
Madeline hugged her close. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep the children out of sight, and I’ll be praying the whole time.”
Clara squared her shoulders. She had to be strong. Her mother only respected strength, and when a person showed weakness, Harriet Oberlin would run right over them. “Thank you for protecting them.”
She waited until Madeline was headed back to the kitchen before opening the door. On the opposite side of the screen door Clara saw her mother.
“Good afternoon, Mother.”
Harriet jerked her head back to meet her daughter’s gaze. “I was beginning to think everyone had gone off with the sheep. I want to speak with you, Clara. Alone.”
Clara nodded and opened the screen door. But instead of ushering her mother into the house, she pointed to the chairs on the front porch. “Have a seat.”
“Why can’t we speak inside?”
“You said you wanted to be alone. This is as private as I can make it. Remember, this house has several other people living within.” Clara went to take her seat in a large wooden rocker that she had come to love.
Her mother remained standing for a moment as if uncertain that the porch would be acceptable to her needs. Finally, she took a seat in a straight-backed chair. She folded her gloved hands on her lap and raised her face to eye Clara in a most serious manner.
“I have come to try to reason with you, Clara. I realize I was quite angry yesterday.”
“Yes, you were.” Clara knew her mother was doing all within her power to remain calm. It wasn’t like Harriet Oberlin to yield to anyone—especially her daughter. That could only mean she wanted Clara’s cooperation enough to humble herself to get it . . . which would only make her all the more dangerous.
“I suppose it was because I felt you were being led astray. You are only a few months a widow, and that doesn’t allow for sensible decisions. I know, because I have buried two husbands. It’s a time of great turmoil, and decisions are often complicated by grief.”
Clara held up her hand. “Mother, before you continue, I want you to understand something. While I did not wish death upon Adolph, neither did I love him. I never came to care about him in the fashion you told me would happen. Not even after twelve years of marriage and the birth of our children. Adolph knew this and understood. I never played him false. The fact is also that he didn’t love me. We held nothing in common but the children, and even there, Adolph wasn’t inclined to become involved.” She drew a deep breath, surprised that her mother had allowed her to state her mind uninterrupted. Clara took the opportunity to continue.
“I am sorry that Adolph had to die in such a violent manner. He didn’t deserve that—no one does. However, when I buried him I felt only relief. Relief that I would no longer have to live a lie. Relief that I could now live my life the way I wanted to, rather than the way others wanted me to. I don’t intend to give up that freedom now.”
Her mother leaned forward as if she might get up, then settled back once again. It was clear she was fighting her nature to control the situation. “That’s well enough for you, but have you considered the children? They deserve better than this.” She waved her gloved hand at the landscape before them.
Clara smiled. “The only place better than this will be heaven itself. My children are laughing and happy for the first time in their young lives. They’ve begged me to never leave this place. That hardly sounds like deprived children.”
“But children never know what is good for them. That’s why I insist you reconsider. You are acting out of the shock that came in losing your husband. Whether you loved him or not, he was your companion for over twelve years.”
It was obvious her mother wasn’t going to let go of her belief that Clara’s emotions were making her decisions. Perhaps they were—emotions of comfort and peace of heart might very well be guiding her choices, but her mother would never understand that. There had to be a way to convince her otherwise, but even as that thought came to mind, Clara shook her head. Her mother wasn’t here to be convinced. She was here to wear down Clara’s resolve.
“Mother, I am going to share something with you and then we will put this matter behind us. Adolph and I were very rarely together. We appeared in public together, which you know was only on rare occasions, with exception to Sunday church services. We only entertained occasionally, usually when a new collection of jewelry was available. And while I don’t wish to give you ammunition to further suggest Aunt Madeline has influenced me to be crude and vulgar, Adolph and I only shared a marriage bed perhaps twice a year.” Her mother’s mouth dropped open.
Clara had never actually seen her mother at a complete loss for words, so she pressed on, hoping to be allowed to speak her mind in full. “Furthermore, the children didn’t even know Adolph. They, of course, knew he was their father, but they had no relationship with him. Adolph was from that old school of thought, like you. He believed children were to be kept silent and in the nursery. They were proof of manhood and the promise of one’s name being carried on into the future. Adolph didn’t love his children. He loved his business. He knew more about the cut of a stone or the setting of a piece of jewelry than he did his children.”
“But that’s to be expected,” her mother protested. “It is necessary for a man to be committed to his business.”
“Be that as it may, Mother, I am not in mourning or shock or any other debilitating condition. Neither are the children. For the first time in their lives, they know what it is to be loved and valued. They have the love of an aunt and uncle and . . .” She hesitated to include Curtis.
“That man? That ruffian you propose to marry?”
Clara nodded. “Yes, Curtis loves them. He will be a father to them in every way that Adolph wasn’t.”
“And what will you do to provide for them? How will your Curtis make his living? Working for your aunt and uncle? Tending sheep?”
“Sheep ranching is an honorable and much-needed profession. And we may or may not remain here. Curtis has some land of his own, and I know Uncle Paul has offered to stake him with a herd. And I have the money Adolph left me, and I could arrange to have a house built.”
Too late the words were out of her mouth. There was no taking them back, and given her mother’s widened eyes and expression of interest, Clara prepared herself for her questions.
“What money? I thought Otto said he left you penniless.”
“I had very little knowledge of Adolph’s business or personal affairs. I assumed the house was his, as well as the furnishings. That, however, is apparently not the case. The money I have was a small amount he left me in our bank. I assure you it isn’t enough for you to get excited about.”
“Still, it is enough to build a house,” her mother countered. “That’s no small amount. I think you’re lying to me.”
Clara let go a heavy sigh. “Mother, I have lied to you on many occasions in my life. Usually in order to keep the peace. I repent of that here and now and hope you will forgive me. However, my affairs are no longer your concern.”
“Of course they are.” The older woman got to her feet. “You need someone wiser than yourself to make important decisions. That is why I am here. You have obviously given little thought to the children and their comfort, their schooling, or their
social standing. A ranch may well be entertaining, but it is hardly a place that offers them safety. Danger lurks all around.” She glanced over her shoulder as if expecting to see just such a threat approaching.
Clara looked in the same general direction and found only the bored-looking livery driver, who waited patiently in the rented wagon.
“Where are my grandchildren?” her mother questioned. “I demand to see them.”
“I’m sorry, they aren’t available to visit at this time. They have gone off with Aunt Madeline.” Clara smiled. “She is very good with children and loves to show them new things.”
“She’s a menace. She corrupted you and now she’ll do the same with them—if I let her.”
“If you let her? Honestly, Mother, the choice is not yours to make.”
Harriet leaned closer and shook her finger as she had often done throughout Clara’s life. “The choice will be mine if I arrange for a court to say as much.”
It was Clara’s turn to look surprised. She knew from the way she’d gasped and started at her mother’s comment that she couldn’t very well deny the effect. Perhaps it was better to play on the words rather than avoid them.
“You would do such an underhanded thing? You would spend money to steal children from the bosom of their mother? What kind of monster are you?”
Harriet straightened and narrowed her eyes. “You are talking quite out of your head. A good judge would see you as unfit—a mentally unstable woman to be put away in an asylum so that she couldn’t harm herself or anyone else.”
Clara rose. She didn’t want to stoop to her mother’s level of ugly threats, but she felt she had no choice. She leaned in until their faces were only inches apart. “If you ever try to do such an indecent thing to my family, I will make certain it will be the last you ever see of any of us. Do you understand?”
Her mother seemed momentarily taken aback. She held Clara’s gaze for a moment, then lifted her chin in defiance of her daughter’s comment. “That is just one more piece of evidence I can use against you.”
“You need to leave now, Mother. And I would suggest you go back to New York, because if you come here again, I will let Uncle Paul deal with you. I won’t speak to you again on this matter . . . or any other.” Clara turned to go, but her mother grabbed hold of her arm and forced her to take a step back.
“I will see this matter through. If I have to enlist the help of others, I will do so. Mark my words, Clara, you haven’t seen the last of me.” She dropped her hold and stalked off down the porch steps. The driver jumped from the seat at her approach and helped her into the wagon.
All the while Clara could only stare after her mother’s retreating form. The threat was very real, and Clara knew her mother would find a way to hurt her. Harriet Oberlin had never brooked defiance. She would make Clara pay—of that Clara was certain.
It was the sixth of August when Otto received a letter from Harriet Oberlin. He found the letter waiting on a silver tray in the foyer of his home when he returned from work that evening. With great trepidation he opened it in the privacy of his sitting room and read the words he had feared to find. Clara had refused to return to New York. He read on.
Furthermore she has made clear her intentions to marry a worthless ranch hand employed by her aunt and uncle. It’s appalling to see the conditions in which they live and the obvious threat to the welfare of my grandchildren. I have threatened to have Clara declared unfit and mentally unstable in order to take charge of my grandchildren. This, of course, did not bode well with her, and she has become quite defiant in her behavior—a sure sign of insanity.
You will also find it of interest to know that Clara stated she has money. She said this money was left in their bank account by Adolph. She wouldn’t reveal the amount, but at one point declared it enough to build a house. I thought perhaps you knew nothing of this.
Money enough to build a house. It had to be the missing money he’d been searching for since the death of his brother. Otto read on.
I feel you should come at once to protect your interests. Given that your brother’s money was truly owed to you, the money Clara has is no doubt yours as well. I feel certain that if you come and join with me in the threat to remove her children, Clara will yield and return home to marry you.
He wasn’t at all sure what he was to do. Badeau and his men had made it impossible for him to leave town with Harriet. He had all but purchased his train ticket when Badeau arrived and served him with orders to give a deposition regarding what he knew of his brother’s traitorous affairs. Now, however, the one who would surely protest his exit would be Charles Weidel. Weidel was feeling the noose tighten around his neck as one confederate after another had been caught and killed. Only a couple of men had been taken alive, and they were only too happy to share what they knew, which thankfully wasn’t much. The road, however, was very quickly leading to Weidel, and he had vowed he would not be taken. He had a strong phobia about being locked in a cell, and Otto had the distinct impression the man might very well take his own life before he’d let the police incarcerate him.
“That could very well take care of my problems at this end,” Otto mused aloud.
But how was he going to handle the situation with Clara? He needed her. He needed her to continue creating the jewelry designs, something she was not likely to do for long if she stayed in Montana, even if he offered to pay her handsomely. No, she’d obtain the trust and have no need to make money. And even if she wanted to continue designing, she’d expect control, which would mean Otto would have none. She would control everything, and he’d have to answer to her or make his own designs. Otto shook his head. He couldn’t go back to only creating standard pieces. They brought a profit, of course, but they weren’t going to bring in anywhere near the amount of money the Vesper Yogo collection had. Not only that, but now that he knew about the trust fund his brother had left to the children, he wanted that as well. That money would assure him an easy life, but he had no chance of getting his hands on it if Clara married this cowboy.
He crumpled the letter and threw it into the fireplace. He really had no choice. He had to go to Montana and help Harriet. He had to force Clara to marry him, and as Harriet had already figured out, the key to her cooperation would be the children.
“Sir, would you like your dinner to be served here in the sitting room or in the dining room?” the butler asked from the doorway.
Otto headed toward the man. “Neither. Bring it to my office. I have some letters to write.”
Otto didn’t wait for the man’s response but passed by him and headed down the hall. Without giving it a second thought, Otto pulled out some stationery. He would write an anonymous but full account of all that he knew Weidel to be involved with. He would detail all of the planned attacks of the past. He would write in the names of all the confederates who had already been captured, as well as others, while carefully omitting his own. Weidel had been quite careful about not letting one man know about another. It was, as he said, safer for no one to know what anyone else was doing. That way, if caught, they couldn’t identify any of their confederates, nor attest to their plans. Of course, Otto had made it his business to know who else was involved and what they were doing. He and Adolph had devised a plan to learn as much information as possible and keep an accurate record, just in case they needed the information to protect themselves. The only problem was, Otto had no idea of where those accounts had been hidden. If only he had his brother’s journals, he could copy off the information to exclude his own participation, then take it to Badeau as a way of showing his own innocence. He could simply explain that he had been driven to investigate the matter himself and had found his brother’s diaries.
“Of course someone is bound to accuse me.” Otto rubbed his mustache and smiled as an idea came to mind. “They could accuse me, but I could just plead innocent and tell the authorities that my brother had posed as me.” There were definite benefits to being an identical twin.
Otto frowned, knowing there was still one small problem. The journals. He most desperately needed to keep the originals out of the hands of the authorities or else he would be condemned along with the others.
21
I wonder if you would mind my taking a look at your husband’s diaries?” Curtis asked as he and Clara finished their lunch. He had thought about the books ever since Clara had hidden them and the money in his room.
Clara shook her head. “Not at all. But I am curious as to why you would want to.”
He smiled. “It may sound a little crazy, but I’d like to see you through his eyes. I’d like to know his mind. I mean, how could a man be married to you and not cherish you completely?”
Her face flushed red and she looked at the table. Curtis smiled at her embarrassment. “If I’ve overstepped proper bounds, then I apologize.”
“No, it’s not that at all.” She looked up and met his gaze. “Read them if you like. I have no issue with it. I only kept and brought them because I thought maybe one day the children would want to know about their father.”
He nodded, knowing her heart. “Thank you. I appreciate the trust you’ve put in me.”
Clara got to her feet, laughing. “I’ve always put my trust in you. It’s easy to trust someone when you love them.”
A Love Transformed Page 20
