by Indiana Wake
“You also made it clear, just a few days ago, that your heart still belonged to your first wife. Then last night, you make me feel like there is hope that someday you could learn to love me.” Kristine pulled away from his embrace. “Today you spend time with a woman who has loved you for years, you say she is your friend, don’t you see that she wants so much more than that? How can I compete with a woman who has already shared so much of your life? What chance do I have?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not like that. Abby is a friend no more.” Robert came to stand before her again and putting a knuckle under her chin, lifted her face until her eyes met his. “There is no competition between you and Abby. She doesn’t see me any different than I see her.”
“Are you sure?” Kristine let her eyes search his while she steeled her heart. He had to know the truth and decide for himself, or she would always wonder. “Does she treat you the same as she treats every other man of her acquaintance? Has she never said anything or made an advance that perhaps you didn’t notice at the time?”
“Of course not,” Robert paused and she saw the realization dawn. “It’s impossible.”
But Kristine could see that he was remembering things that had escaped him before.
“She loves you.” Kristine wanted to weep but kept her features even. “You need to think about that and what it will mean to your future. Because you must know that once you are mine, I will not share you with anyone.”
Then she turned and left him to gather his daughter and return home.
Chapter 9
She didn’t see much of Robert over the next couple of days, although he brought his daughter to stay with her during the days. Marian was filling out, looking more like a happy child should. Gradually, she was losing the gaunt look that she had exhibited that first day. Kristine had to force herself not to grill the girl about her father’s activities, choosing instead, to focus on enjoying her cheerful company.
It got easier when her sisters arrived. Kristine hadn’t seen them since they had left for the summer session at school, and now that it was late fall, she was hungry for their companionship.
“So when are we allowed to meet this husband of yours.” Courtney flung herself on the bed and nibbled on a cookie. “We have been here a whole day and the mystery man has yet to show his face.”
“He’s not my husband yet, and he has been here. And I happen to know that I introduced you to him.” Kristine kept her voice even. She would hate to spoil this reunion by moaning about her worries.
“He stops by every day in the morning and evening,” Patricia admitted. “He is very handsome.”
“Oh yes, very handsome, and I suppose he shows that handsome face every so often.” Courtney snorted with the impatience of youth. “If he were my beau, I would expect him to be at my beck and call for hours every day. I would keep him busy feeding me bonbons and waving my fan.”
Patricia drew her shawl closer about her neck, although the room wasn’t cold. “It is too cold to need a fan. And I imagine a man of business, not to mention a ranch, would be kept quite busy during the day.”
“Too busy to visit his bride a day before the wedding?” Courtney snorted again.
“Really, Courtney that is such an unpleasant noise. What would Miss Price think of your behavior?” Kristine was becoming impatient at her sister’s picking. It picked at nerves already frayed by worry.
Had he gone to Abby after all? Would he tell her if he had?
“I don’t care about Miss Priss and her Perfectly Proper Prison for young Princesses.” Courtney mimicked the pinched lips and prancing steps of the schoolmistress. Even Kristine had to laugh.
“Oh girls, you are so good for me. I’m so glad you’re here.” The last word choked out on a half sob. “I’ve missed you so.” The tears forced their way out and had her sisters rushing over to comfort her.
“I’m sorry I made fun of Miss Priss … I mean Miss Price. I know you have worked hard to let us stay there, even though father lost his money.” Courtney put an arm around Kristine’s shoulder and rubbed her arm soothingly.
“It’s not that, I hated Miss Price too, Miss Priss … what a perfect name.” Kristine dabbed at her eyes with her kerchief. “And you know about father?”
“Of course.” Patricia knelt at Kristine’s feet and rested her head on the older girl’s lap. “He sent to the school for us. He said there wasn’t enough money to keep us there. But Miss Price said that the bill was paid for the next two years. I thought father had done it, but he hadn’t.”
“No, it wasn’t father, although he had promised.” Kristine’s tears started afresh. Robert. He had paid her sisters tuition, without even telling her.
“Please tell us what’s wrong, Krissy. Is it your beau? Don’t you love him?” Courtney rested her head on her sister’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to marry him if you don’t love him.”
“That’s just the problem.” Kristine sobbed, giving way at last. “I do love him. I agreed to marry him because he was safe and agreed to help me keep you safe. But then it all went wrong and I fell in love, with him and his daughter.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Courtney sounded confused. “If you love him then everything is all right.”
“No, it isn’t.'” Kristine couldn’t sit anymore. She shook off her sisters’ comforting arms and began to pace. “I don’t think he loves me. I didn’t expect him to, but I hoped that someday ….”
“And why wouldn’t he love you?” Courtney clenched her hands into fists. “Is he stupid?”
“No, there’s another woman.” Kristine continued to speak into the sudden silence. “She has loved him a long time, but he just saw her as a friend. I told him he had to choose between an old friend whom he might come to love, and me a stranger who so desperately wants his love for herself.”
“You didn’t tell me that part,” Robert’s voice came from behind her.
Chapter 10
Kristine whirled around to stare at Robert. He stood in the doorway with his hat in his hands and his eyes on her. He moved to one side as her sisters filed out.
“You didn’t tell me you loved me, or that you wanted my love in return.” Robert walked toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. “You told me that Abby loved me and that I had to think about what it would mean to my future.”
Kristine couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat.
“It was a lie you know,” he said and his voice was like the caress of a summer wind. “Abby doesn’t love me. She loved the idea of loving me. After you had sent me away, I went to her …” He stopped when Kristine stiffened. “Not like that. I went to her and talked. What she really wants is a man who will help her with that ranch of hers.” He rubbed his hands through thick dusty hair. “Somehow she got it into her head years ago that since my ranch shared a border with hers, that I would be willing to add mine to hers. The trouble is, she would want to be in charge, and I’m not used to a woman telling me what to do.” He stepped closer until their bodies brushed and his face filled her vision. “Until you.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, but a whisper was all she could manage.
“You told me to think. So I did. I have been thinking for days.”
“What … what did you think about?” Kristine searched his eyes, afraid to acknowledge what she saw there.
“Mostly I thought about you.” His voice was deep and the tenderness in it made her shudder. “I also thought about Elizabeth. I loved her. She was a delightful woman who enriched my life and gave me the wonderful gift of my daughter. You are like her in many ways.”
“The ghost of your first wife that is what Juliette called me.” Kristine tried to move away, but couldn’t make herself do it. “That isn’t what I want.”
“What do you want, Kristine. Tell me.” He brought his hands up to cup her face and she closed her eyes at the sweetness of it.
“I want you to love me. I want you to love me for myself, for who I am
, and not because I remind you of your wife.” Kristine felt a tear burn its way down her cheek until it pooled where his hand held her. “I want to be a real wife, I want children.”
“You are like Elizabeth, which is what drew me to you at first. However, you have a core of strength that she never had. You are strong, and stubborn, and sweet, and generous.” The brush of his lips accompanied each trait over her face. Kristine kept her eyes closed, afraid the dream would end when she opened them.
“You are not Elizabeth, or her ghost. You are Kristine, more than I hoped for, more than I ever dreamed. I love you for yourself, and for no other reason.”
Kristine opened her eyes to read the truth in his.
“Kristine, I will ask again, will you be my wife in all ways and for all time. Will you give me more children and love me even if your sister thinks I’m stupid?”
Kristine didn’t need words to show her answer. She let her lips find his in a kiss that spoke of the future.
Chapter 11
The church was full of his friends. Some she had met, many she had not, but Kristine had her sisters and that was all that mattered to her. She listened to the stately music as Marian all but skipped down the aisle scattering flower petals from her basket. Courtney and Patricia followed at a more serene pace, but just as happily.
Kristine waited for her cue to begin, but a hand touched her shoulder. Abby stood behind her and Kristine braced for the attack.
“Relax, I’m not going to eat you.” Abby rolled her eyes as though she couldn’t understand why the other woman would react in such a way. “I just wanted to say I am happy for you. Robert and I talked and I realized that I didn’t love him after all. Well, I do, but more like a brother than a lover. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know.”
The woman started to walk away, and then looked back. “If this mail order thing worked so well for you, maybe I should try it.”
Then Abby strode through the doors making use of the cue intended for the bride. Kristine shook her head. The woman did love a dramatic entrance.
The cue sounded again, and this time Kristine entered the sanctuary and everyone stood and turned to face her.
Kristine saw only one face, one pair of brown eyes, no longer sad. Now they shone with love and they pulled her down the aisle to his side. He drew her hand into his arm and pressed it to his side. She could hear the thunder of his heart as it matched the pace of her own. Then another hand tugged on her arm until Marian could reach her hand and hold on tight.
Surrounded by the love of her new family, Robert leaned down and whispered for her ears alone, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Kristine smiled and turned to face the preacher, reflected in his eyes she saw a future full of love and joy. The future she had always wanted.
The End.
Letters of Love
Indiana Wake
Chapter 1
1887
Stab, pull, stab, and pull again. Over and over it never seemed to end and Courtney felt her eyes drawn to the clock. Tick, tick, tick the hands drifted around so slowly they must have stopped. A flush of guilt went through her and she forced her eyes away from the clock. Watching it was not making it move any faster. In fact, she could have sworn the hands had just moved backward.
“Miss Harris, you will never finish your work if you don’t keep the needle moving.”
“Yes, Miss Honeycutt.” Courtney stabbed the needle through the fine linen cloth, barely missing her finger, and pulled the steel gray thread taut. Stab, pull, stab, and pull again. She wanted to scream.
It was an eternity before the delicate tinkle of a silver bell signaled the close of embroidery class. A jolt of energy sizzled along Courtney’s spine and the linen dropped back into her bag scarcely different than when it had come out.
Miss Honeycutt met her at the door. “May I speak with you a moment, Miss Harris.” The thin teacher walked toward her desk, not bothering to see if Courtney followed. There was no need to check. Although Courtney’s gaze lingered on the door, her gateway to relative freedom, punishment for disobeying a direct suggestion was not something she could risk.
It took all her willpower to remain still and patient as Miss Honeycutt sat at the desk and took her time arranging it to her satisfaction. The desk was in the Louis XIV style, all curves and elegance where its owner was all straight lines and angles. Courtney had often wondered if ‘The Honey’ realized that the desk only served to make her look more unpleasant.
“Stop tapping your toe, Miss Harris. Unnecessary movement is the symptom of an unorganized mind.” Miss Honeycutt’s muddy brown eyes peered at her from over the rims of thick spectacles. “I should like to know what is wrong with you lately. You have been out of sorts and restless since the Christmas holidays. Are you well?”
“Yes Miss, I am quite well.” Courtney stilled her foot only to have a finger start tapping on her sewing bag. She was well; it was not an illness that had taken the weight from her already slender and willowy form. Though her dresses hung on her, she felt alive and full of joy, yet frustrated at being kept here. She tossed her chestnut hair, or would have if it were not secured in a bun beneath her hat. So instead she flashed her emerald eyes to emphasize the fact that she was fine.
“Then whatever is the matter with you?”
“I’m not entirely sure myself, Miss Honeycutt. As you know, my sister and I traveled to Colorado over the holidays to attend my eldest sister’s wedding.” She waited for the instructor’s nod of agreement. “Well, I saw the mountains while I was there. Grand and beautiful they were and they set my soul aflame.”
“The mountains, is that all?” Miss Honeycutt raised an eyebrow, the look that everyone in school called the ‘better-think-fast’ look. The trouble was Courtney wasn’t prepared with an answer.
“Well, there was also a man ….” Courtney smiled at the thought of Clifton Graham, or Curly as the other men called him. The memory of his mischievous eyes and unruly crop of red hair warmed her heart. There should be a letter from him today. She would go check the post as soon as she was done here.
Miss Honeycutt slapped her hands to the desk and stood. “Miss Harris, am I given to understand that you are unable to work, to study, or even eat because of a man?”
Courtney felt her cheeks heat. She had never borne the brunt of Miss Honeycutt’s temper before. She had dismissed the other girls’ stories as impossible. How could a dried up stick like ‘The Honey’ warm up enough to have any kind of a temper?
“Need I remind you that you are still a minor, not yet seventeen and you have been entrusted to our care? Your sister has paid your tuition in full for the next two years and in exchange, she expects us to keep you safe. To keep you pure, to keep you innocent.” With each word, Miss Honeycutt rose from her seat and her voice grew even shriller.
“You will put away any thought of men for the duration of your stay here. To ensure that you do, you will be kept in your room, except for times that you are in class or accompanied by an instructor. I will inform Headmistress Price of your insolence, as well as notifying your sister. Be glad the punishment is not more severe.”
Suddenly calm again, Miss Honeycutt sat in her seat and placed neatly folded hands on the desk.
“You are dismissed.”
Courtney spun on her heel and left the room, softly closing the door behind her. Inside her gut, a raw, nauseating mixture of anger and awe churned. Kept in her room? Escorted everywhere she went? Courtney placed a hand over her lips to hold back the cry of dismay. She had turned and fled from the room without offering the proper curtsy of respect.
Chapter 2
Skirts swirling around her ankles, Courtney didn’t stop running until she reached the spreading branches of the old maple tree at the edge of the school grounds. Throwing herself to the ground amidst the encompassing roots, she let her tears flow free. She wept until she felt hollowed out and empty.
“There you are. I was looking for you.” Patricia walked o
ver and eased herself to the ground, arranging her skirts neatly. “There was a letter for you during mail-call.”
“A letter?” Courtney sat up and wiped her eyes. “Is it from Clifton?”
“Why not open it and see.” Patricia handed over the letter and watched as her sister tore it open with trembling fingers.
Courtney peered at the letter then rubbed her eyes and peered some more. “Oh, it’s no use; my eyes are too swollen to read it. Will you read it to me, Patty dear? Please.”
“Dearest Courtney … did you give him permission to use your given name?” Patricia’s normally calm voice sounded shocked, “That is highly improper. What would the instructors say?”
“I don’t care much at this point. What else could they do to me? Keep reading.” Courtney leaned forward, eager to hear the rest of the letter.
“Very well. ‘Dearest Courtney, the sun rose in the east this morning and made me think of you because it saw you first, and I was jealous. The sun rose high at noon and made me think of you, your sparkling eyes and warm laughter. The sun sets this evening and makes me think of you, because in all its glory, no sunset is as beautiful as you….’ Well, he certainly can wax poetic. I wonder how much work is getting done with all this looking at the sun.”
“Oh, Patricia, you have no sense of romance.” Courtney sighed and lay back against the tree clasping her hands. “He is so wonderful. Will you read the rest for me?”
“There is not much more to read. Just, oh let me finish it. ‘I wish you could leave that stuffy school of yours and come back to Colorado. With love, Curly.’ I still think he is being too forward.”
