New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set

by Hope Sinclair

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Charles had protested. “I portrayed a doctor tending to a wounded soldier on the battlefield for a theater show once, but aside from that, I don’t know the first thing about the medical profession.”

  “Neither do my parents,” Alice reminded him.

  Charles shrugged, a sign of passive acceptance.

  “Besides,” Alice continued. “That will give us a reason to leave. We’ll explain that you’ve been offered a job in Montana.”

  “Why Montana?” Charles asked. Alice had mentioned the place before, explaining that the ultimate plan was to move to Montana and establish a new life for herself, free from her parents. But one detail she had never elaborated on was why she had picked Montana, why she always referred to the place as a sort of promised land, or the answer to her prayers.

  “A good friend of mine lives there,” Alice revealed hesitantly. This wasn’t the first occasion when a conversation with Charles had turned about from devising a fictional character, and had instead entered into the territory of granting him some sort of personal information about herself. To Alice, these details and revelations felt private, but she supposed to Charles, these details felt privileged… like something that, given the circumstances, he had a right to know.

  “For years, I’ve dreamed of opening my own bakery,” Alice continued. “And she’s shared that dream. It was purely fantasy at first, but over time, our daydreaming turned into planning. And when I—” she cut off, her hands landing on the small bump of her stomach, “—when I realized that I’d need to plan for a baby, I made up my mind then and there that I was going to move to Montana and make that dream come true. Short of finding a real doctor to marry, it’s the only chance of a future I have.”

  “So why can’t you tell your parents that?” Charles asked. “The truth?”

  “I know my parents,” Alice said solemnly, again feeling like she was revealing too much information.

  Besides planning the fictional background of Charles Douglas, their conversations also covered their own history.

  In the fictional turn of events, they had met in Cimarron, introduced by a friend of Lucille’s (this offered a sense of familiarity and security, while also establishing a degree of separation). They had fallen quickly in love, and had decided to marry.

  And that was as far as their conversations went. Alice was too bashful to broach the topic of how they had fallen into each other’s arms and given into the sinful desires of the flesh, and Charles was far too polite to bring up these matters himself. So it was mutually agreed that this was one matter that didn’t need to be discussed or planned. Besides, Alice was confident that her parents wouldn’t press for details.

  Despite her best efforts to remain firmly professional in their dealings, Alice couldn’t help but feel her demeanor toward Charles soften more and more. As each passing day revealed more about the mysterious man pretending to be her betrothed, Alice found herself growing ever more friendly toward the man.

  As far as fake husbands were concerned, she decided, she had done well to find him. And, as she found comfort from his companionship and conversation, she found herself dwelling less and less on the heartbreak left by James, and instead thinking more about the bright future that awaited her, almost close enough to touch.

  ***

  The journey to San Antonio was dreadfully long and even more dreadfully hot but otherwise passed without incident. Prior to departing, Alice had made the assumption that they’d have little discussion left to fill the time, after all they had spent an entire week discussing the intricate details of their plan. After departing, Alice realized that she had been wrong. Somehow, barely a moment passed where one of them wasn’t talking or entertaining the other with a story, fact, or question.

  With the pretense of their relationship already worn away, Alice enjoyed speaking freely with Charles. She enjoyed listening to the stories of his life in New York City—embarrassing accounts of stage blunders and failed auditions. She liked this side of him best: the humble, self-deprecating, and endearingly funny side of Charles.

  She was also flattered by the curiosity he seemed to take in her. She was surprised that he wanted to hear recollections of her childhood or get her opinion on books and art. She was touched when he remembered something she had said days earlier, and she felt secretly honored when he confided his own tales of hardship and embarrassment.

  By the time they reached San Antonio, they had forged something entirely stronger than a business arrangement, they had forged a friendship. And no matter how unique or bizarre the roots of that friendship might be, Alice decided that it was one of the closest she had ever experienced.

  Their growing friendship made her even more confident and hopeful that everything would work out, that her parents would approve of Charles, and that they’d see enough good in him to overlook the wrong that he would claim responsibility for.

  When the family plantation came into view on the horizon, Alice said a silent prayer. She begged for forgiveness, grace, and, more than anything, she begged the Lord to touch her parents’ hearts with compassion. For it was compassion that she needed above all else.

  SEVEN

  “We’re delighted, of course, to entertain any guest of our daughter’s,” Mr. Bell said, his red face creasing to reveal a tobacco-stained smile. He had the slow, easy drawl of a southern accent, the result of being born and raised in Texas.

  It was just the four of them, arranged around the dinner table: Alice, Charles, and Mr. and Mrs. Bell.

  A dark-skinned woman entered the room, head hung low, and she carefully placed on the center of the table a large platter holding a carved leg of lamb garnished with a sprig of rosemary.

  Charles spotted the woman, and he flinched, his face going even paler than usual, and his eyes going wide. It occurred to Alice that, living in New York City, Charles might never have seen slavery firsthand. Of course, growing up on a southern plantation, slavery was simply commonplace to Alice. And for that reason, she had never thought to warn Charles about the slaves that her parents held in their employ. Now though, as she assessed the look of pained horror on his face, she realized what a mistake she had made by neglecting to warn him in advance.

  “Thank you,” Charles said to the dark-skinned woman. Shocked, she glanced up, and their eyes met, before she immediately looked back toward the ground.

  Alice’s heart started hammering, and she stole a quick glance at her parents. They were both studying Charles, their faces lit up with perplexed scrutiny. The dark-skinned woman quickly scurried from the room, leaving the four of them to dwell in a moment of silence.

  Mr. Bell regained his composure, cleared his throat, and then spoke. “As I was saying, Charles,” he said, and he reached across the table to lift his glass in a salute, “we’re delighted to welcome you into our home.”

  “I’m delighted to be here,” Charles said, though his face depicted otherwise. It was clearly taking him much longer to regain his composure, to rectify what he had just witnessed.

  “Tell us,” Mrs. Bell spoke. “How did you two become acquainted?”

  Alice opened her mouth to take the lead, but Charles spoke before she could.

  “Through a mutual acquaintance of Miss Lucille Brown,” he explained.

  Alice breathed a sigh of relief, both for the return of Charles’s gracious smile, and for the fact that he was following their pre-determined story.

  “That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Bell smiled generically. Then, to Alice, she asked, “And how is your dear cousin, Lucille?”

  “She’s well.” Alice smiled. “Sends her best wishes, of course.”

  “I feel just awful for the poor girl,” Mrs. Bell clucked, shaking her head. “Nearing thirty and no husband in sight!”

  Alice blinked, resisting the urge to challenge her mother’s statement. In Mrs. Bell’s eyes, a husband was the greatest accomplishment a young woman could achieve. Anything short of marriage was simpl
y a disappointment. And therefore, to Mrs. Bell, the unmarried Lucille was, for lack of better words, a tragic failure, a cautionary tale worthy of pity and prayer.

  “I was worried Alice would face a similar fate,” Mrs. Bell continued, now moving her glance to Charles. She smiled a strange, tight smile, then added, “I’m not sure if Alice has told you, but you’re the first suitor to visit us. Naturally, we were starting to worry!”

  “I’m only twenty, Mother,” Alice couldn’t help but point out.

  “I was married at seventeen,” Mrs. Bell countered. “Youth is fleeting. A woman only has a number of years, before…”

  She didn’t finish that thought, and Alice was relieved. She was sure that whatever her mother meant to imply, it would only upset Charles further. Alice was impressed with how Charles managed to maintain his composure.

  He smiled graciously, even forced an easy laugh at Mrs. Bell’s remark. Then he said, “Well you mustn’t worry any longer.”

  “Why’s that?” Mr. Bell asked gruffly.

  “I had planned on waiting until after dinner,” Charles said. “But I suppose now is as good a time as any. Mr. and Mrs. Bell, I confess that I’ve come here with ulterior motives.”

  “Oh?”

  “I didn’t come here merely to introduce myself or call upon your hospitality,” he continued. “I’ve come to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Mrs. Bell abandoned all decorum and let out an excited squeal, an action that earned her a stern frown from Mr. Bell. She quickly quieted herself with a sip from her glass.

  Alice’s heart was racing. This wasn’t at all how they had planned it, but she knew it was too late to stop the conversation now that it had started. She could demand an explanation from Charles later. For now, she had to press onward… reveal the rest of the story, before she lost her nerve.

  “That’s…” Mr. Bell appeared at a loss for words, but finally concluded, “…marvelous.” Then he cocked his head and added, “But I must ask, Mr. Douglas… why?”

  “Why?” Charles repeated, clearly caught off guard by the question.

  “Yes,” Mr. Bell nodded. “Why does a man of your social stature and reputation—a well-regarded doctor!—wish to marry Alice?”

  Alice frowned, and though she had never held the opinions of her father in very high regard, she found herself stung by the insinuation he made with his words.

  “The real question,” Charles said, “is why would Alice want to marry a man like me?”

  Mr. and Mrs. Bell both looked stunned, confused. Alice swallowed back her nerves.

  “Mr. Bell, your daughter is the most remarkable person I’ve ever met,” Charles said. “She’s kind, she’s compassionate, she’s determined, she’s beautiful… I don’t know what I did right in my life, for God to lead me to a woman like her. All I can do is ask for the privilege of spending the rest of my life making sure that she never regrets agreeing to marry me.”

  Alice’s heart was beating furiously, but it wasn’t with the anxiety of waiting for Charles to reveal the news of her pregnancy. Rather, it was with the sudden rush of emotion that she felt, listening to the things that he was saying. Even though she understood that it was just for show—just an act—she couldn’t help but feel the conviction behind his voice. She had never heard a man speak about her that way, and suddenly she realized for the first time in her life just how much she wanted to hear those things. And, more dangerously, she realized how much she had wanted to hear those things from James.

  And as soon as that thought crossed her mind, she felt her entire face go flush and her eyes sting with tears. Before she even knew what she was doing, she was jumping from her seat and running from the room.

  EIGHT

  Charles found Alice sitting on a wooden swing that hung from a great old mimosa tree overlooking the plantation at the back of the house. She sat with her knees wrapped under her dress and her tear-stained face pressed against the rope tether of the swing.

  Charles walked out of the house and sat beside her silently, his weight gently rocking the swing.

  “I apologize if what I said upset you,” he said finally, staring out at the setting sun in the distance, admiring the red glowing orb collapsing into the rusty red earth.

  “It didn’t,” Alice sniffed, wishing that Charles wasn’t seeing her like this. Despite their newly forged friendship, she still had a sense of pride. “It was a lovely thing to say. I didn’t realize you were such a good actor.”

  Charles’s brow pressed into a frown, but he said nothing to contradict her statement.

  A light breeze fluttered through the air, rattling the limbs and leaves of the tree and shaking loose a handful of bright pink blossoms that rained down onto the earth. One of the flowers fluttered down gracefully, coasting through the air before finally coming to a rest on Charles’s knee. He scooped up the flower and inspected it carefully. He had never seen a flower quite like it before. Then he lifted the flower and tucked it carefully behind Alice’s ear.

  The gesture only made her heart race harder.

  “Why did you run away?” he asked gently, and Alice wondered if the concern in his voice was genuine, or just another part of the role he was playing.

  “I suppose in a way, I realized what I could have had,” she said, blinking through a fresh crop of tears. “I’ve spent so much time fretting about what my parents would think about me raising a baby alone, that I never really considered how I felt about it all.”

  “I see,” Charles swallowed. For a moment, Alice wondered if he would try to comfort her, if he would try to fill her head with more false hope about the treacherous path that no doubt lay ahead. But he didn’t. Instead, he said, “You remind me of my mother.”

  “Why is that?” Alice asked, wiping the rim of her eye with her fingertip.

  “I was born out of wedlock,” Charles explained. “My father had abandoned my mother long before I was born. They had never married. I don’t think my father had ever intended to marry her, or to be involved with my upbringing. My mother carried a lot of shame for that… She told people that her husband had died, she even wore a ring that she claimed was a wedding band. But I think everyone knew the truth.”

  Alice watched Charles’s face soften as he spoke.

  “She worked hard every day of her life,” he continued. “She cleaned houses for the wealthier families in New York City. Even after I was born, she never slowed down. She worked until her hands were scarred and burned from the lye and her knees went arthritic from the strain of scrubbing floors. And still, she worked. She never wanted me to do without, never wanted me to go hungry, or feel the pain of poverty because of what my father had done.”

  “Charles—” Alice started, but he stopped her.

  “People say that you learn how to be a man by watching the example your father sets,” he said. “For me, I learned how to be a man from the absence that he left. Watching how much his actions devastated my mother, I vowed that I would never repeat the same mistakes. I would never hurt a woman like that. Because that’s not what it means to be a man.”

  “Is that why you agreed to help me?” Alice asked.

  “That’s part of the reason,” Charles said. Then he smiled and added, in jest, “I also needed a job.”

  Alice smiled, grateful that Charles had said something to reduce the painful tension. Then she said, “I suppose we should tell my parents the truth.”

  “Let’s wait,” Charles suggested. “I think we’ve given them enough of a shock for one night.”

  Alice smiled again, glancing up at Charles in the glowing embers of the setting sun. And in that moment, despite all of the uncertainty and emotions, she felt a single pulse of desire that she never thought she’d feel: the desire to kiss him.

  Of course she resisted the urge and quickly looked away, but despite her best efforts, the feeling didn’t subside. In fact, it was that blissful feeling that caused a smile to tug at the corners of her mouth for the rest o
f the evening, lingering until the moment she went to sleep.

  NINE

  Alice awoke the next morning with every intention of finding Charles so that they might reassess the status of their plan, but by the time she had dressed, braided her hair, and made her way downstairs, she learned that Charles had already gone out to spend the morning hunting in the forest at the edge of the plantation with Mr. Bell.

  Nervous for what their conversations might involve, Alice kept herself occupied by paying a visit to the women working in the kitchen. It was a secret pastime of hers, helping out the kitchen. Her father had caught her doing it once and declared the practice expressly forbidden, but she had continued. She assured the women in the kitchen that the risk was all her own, that she would take all the blame if she was caught. And luckily, she hadn’t been caught again.

  They spent the better part of the morning baking bread for supper, and Alice again found herself dreaming of the day when she would open her bakery, when all of her hours would be filled with kneading dough and sliding heavy trays into the hot oven, while her child looked on, face stained with flour and lips crystallized from sucking on stolen cubes of sugar.

  Working in the kitchen, Alice lost all track of time. And as her hands began performing the routine motions of forming bread into tight braided dinner rolls, her thoughts began to wander back to Charles. More specifically, she began to recall the feeling of temptation she had felt the night before, the desire to kiss him. She wondered what it all meant. Was this her subconscious, coping with the loss of James? Or was this something else? Had some small, impractical, fantastical part of her heart gotten attached to the idea of Charles? To the role he played… the role of doting groom?

  It was a dangerous game that they were playing, she realized, and it was important that she stop herself before it was too late. After all, she was well aware of the consequences that could arise when common sense gave way to feelings.