Maggie's Strength

by Kimberly Grist

  B.J. positioned both hands on his father’s shoulders. His cheerful face appeared tired. The morning light highlighted dark circles under his eyes and his mouth turned downward. “Pa, although it didn’t seem like it at the time, my breakup with Claire was the best thing that could have happened to me. I am happy.”

  His father drew him into a hug and pounded his back. “I’m relieved to hear you’ve gotten over Claire. Although lovely, your mother and I were concerned that she was a bit too—” He pulled away and cleared his throat. “—self-focused.”

  “Even before I went away to medical school, my goal was to work in a large hospital and to be part of something substantial.” B.J. pulled a chair closer to the table. “I wanted to have a successful practice, live in a large house and have the perfect wife. Claire seemed ideal. She was beautiful, refined and knew her way around society. But I was never happy when we were together. She was tiresome. Our conversations were based on what her friends had, things she desired and where she wanted to go. Although I would never wish Mother ill, God used her decline in health to help me see Claire’s true character.”

  Dr. Benton reached for a basket covered with a checkered cloth and passed it to his son. “Even though things didn’t work out as planned with your former fiancée, what about your job at the hospital and your research?”

  B.J. retrieved a biscuit. “I think God’s plan is for me to be here. From the day we worked together to set Mr. Fuller’s leg to the afternoon I delivered the O’Connor’s’ baby, I’ve gone to bed each night with such a feeling of accomplishment and contentment.”

  “Promise me you won’t make a decision based on what you think your mother or I need or want.” His father’s eyes grew misty.

  “Admittedly, I miss certain aspects of my hospital job as well as my work at the Charitable Eye and Ear Infirmary. But I enjoy working with you and being part of the community. I’m quite content.” He spread honey on his biscuit. “Now if I could only convince a tiny blacksmith that my suit is in earnest, I would be the happiest man this side of the Mississippi.”

  His father puffed out his chest. “That would thrill your mother and me both. I can’t imagine a better choice for a daughter-in-law. But are you certain?” Dr. Benton’s dark eyes studied his son. “I would hate to see Maggie hurt; nor would we want her to feel as though she were your second choice.”

  “Maggie is the opposite of what I once thought of as my ideal wife.” B.J. stared out the window. “She is talented, yet so willing to share of herself; so small of stature, yet she shows such strength. I find her fascinating. I was half in love with her the first week after I arrived home.” He took in a deep breath. “I feel like a love-sick bullfrog.”

  Dr. Benton chuckled. “It seems like yesterday I felt the same way about your mother. You know she turned me down the first time I asked her to marry me. I’m thankful every day that I didn’t give up.”

  B.J.’s mouth opened and closed. “Mother said no?”

  His father nodded. “She didn’t feel as though our relationship was a priority and told me she didn’t want to play second fiddle to my work for the rest of her life.”

  Dr. Benton pulled on his ear. “The funny thing was I thought I’d been showing her affection. Couldn’t figure how she found me lacking. Though I worked long hours, I sent her flowers, candy and little trinkets. I thought that’s what a suitor did.”

  “She didn’t like the gifts?”

  “It wasn’t that she didn’t like them; she just preferred that I spend time with her instead. I figured it out when I read to her one night. Turns out I didn’t have to spend a penny. I borrowed a book that I wasn’t interested in but knew she liked and read it to her in the evenings.”

  “What was the name of the book?”

  A flush swept across his father’s cheeks. “Pride and Prejudice.”

  “Seriously?” B.J. scowled.

  Doctor Benton chuckled. “I would have read from the dictionary if I thought she would have liked it.” He leaned back in his chair. “Some nights I worked late and we didn’t have more than fifteen minutes together. But I still took the time to get cleaned up and rush over to visit. That was all it took.”

  B.J. rubbed his jaw. “Maggie and I enjoy each other’s company as well. But I’ve sent her mixed signals. She noticed Claire’s tintype in my pocket watch, and then yesterday Amanda Anderson’s cousin latched on to me, and I couldn’t figure out how to detach myself without being rude.”

  He pinched his nose. “My ego is a bit bruised from Claire’s rejection, and sometimes I wonder if I imagined Maggie’s interest in me is anything more than a friend. I admit I was flattered, at least momentarily, by Victoria Wilson’s attention.”

  “Where was Maggie all this time?” Dr. Benton took a sip of coffee.

  “She was busy putting out food. By the time she sat down, Victoria monopolized the conversation. Maggie left the table and didn’t come back. When I searched for her, I was told that something had come up and she returned home.”

  “What happened?” His father stared

  B.J. frowned. “Amanda Anderson lied to manipulate me to spend time with her cousin. While I was dealing with Victoria, Maggie was showered with attention from every eligible bachelor in town. Just as she finally granted me a dance and I tried to apologize, the new fellow who owns the sawmill cut in on me.”

  Doctor Benton’s lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “David Taylor’s a fine man. Just took on raising his nieces and nephew who lost their parents to typhoid. I imagine he’s in need of a wife. I can see why Maggie would catch his eye.”

  “Whose side are you on?” B.J. stiffened.

  “Why yours, of course.” Doctor Benton beamed. “It’s time for you to do some proper courting.” He chuckled. “You’d best be quick about it too.”

  Chapter 16

  The door to the blacksmith’s shop stood wide open. A bell-like sound repeated as Maggie’s father’s hammer met steel. Broad muscles of his arms flexed with each blow as he pounded the metal over the anvil into shape. The heat from the forge met B.J. with force. Michael Montgomery plunged the newly formed piece into a bucket of water. A hissing noise sounded in protest. Swirls of steam flowed from the container.

  Wiping his hand on his leather apron, Mr. Montgomery met his gaze and nodded.

  B.J. entered the workshop. Detailed drawings were nailed to the rough walls in clear view of the smithy. A metal gate with intricate swirls leaned against the back wall. An identical pattern was mounted to a screened door.

  Mr. Montgomery followed his gaze. “Maggie designed it.” His weathered face broke out in a proud smile. “Malachi is fitting the matching screens to the windows now. He and I plan on installing the door to the front of our house this afternoon. By this time tomorrow, I’ll have several orders from customers wanting something similar. It happens each time my daughter creates something new. We are very proud of her.”

  “You should be. She is extraordinary.” B.J.’s voice was rough.

  “Step outside with me where it's cooler. I was just about to take a break.”

  B.J. followed the large man to the well and waited as he refreshed himself with several ladles of water. “What can I do for you, Dr. Benton?” The older man extended his hand.

  Not a small man himself, B.J. felt slight as the giant hand met his. He matched the firm grip and cleared his throat. “I’ve come to request permission to court your daughter.”

  Dark eyes turned misty. Mr. Montgomery removed his apron. “Have you spoken to Maggie about your intentions?”

  “No sir. Not yet.” B.J.’s stomach formed a knot.

  The blacksmith studied him and rolled up his sleeves. “There’s a special place in a man’s heart when it comes to his daughters. For lack of better words, I’ll call it a fierce protectiveness.” He opened and closed his fist. “Are you a man who can be trusted?”

  Already perspiring from the heat of the forge, he felt sweat roll down his chest. “Yes sir
. My intentions are honorable.”

  Mr. Montgomery rubbed his square jaw. “It’s strange we’ve visited Carrie Town so many times and lived here for more than a year. But today for the first time, my daughter has become quite popular with the bachelors in the area. You are not the first man to visit me this morning. Tell me, why should I allow your suit?”

  B.J. swallowed. “I’m in love with your daughter. I would do anything within my power to make her happy.”

  The blacksmith’s dark bushy eyebrows drew together. “I couldn’t help but notice you paid quite a bit of attention to another young woman at the barn raising. That doesn’t strike me as a man who is in love. Were you trying to make my daughter jealous?”

  “No sir.” B.J. blew out a breath. “I struggled to distance myself without appearing rude. But I have no interest in the young lady. I would be faithful to my marriage vows. Maggie deserves my whole heart and would have it.”

  “She is a country girl, raised and schooled at home, and she’s happy working in the garden and in this shop. My fear is you will want her to fit a mold more typical of a woman who was educated back east.”

  B.J.’s shoulders stiffened. “I have no desire to change her.” He shook his head. “She has such a strength of character I doubt I could even if I wanted to. I’m afraid if there’s any changing to be done, it will be on my part.”

  Mr. Montgomery slapped B.J. on the back. “You are wiser than most men, which is more than I gave you credit for. You have my permission to speak with her.” He wagged a giant finger. “But the choice is hers to make.”

  ~

  B.J. paused in front of the L-shaped porch belonging to Maggie’s family. His eyes darted to the Gothic Revival-style house with its pointed arches and window shapes. He took a deep breath. Hopefully, the worst was over. He would start small and ask her to join him for an outing this afternoon. He propped his hand on the rail.

  “They’re in the back.” Malachi’s baritone voice called. He motioned with his thumb and disappeared. B.J. followed the path past a small garden in bloom with purple coneflowers. His mouth lifted at the sight of a wrought-iron bench with swirled hearts and matching chairs that Maggie had designed.

  “I just finished putting the screens on the windows on the back of the house. Ma and Sis are admiring our handiwork.” Malachi waved his hand toward the house as he rounded the corner.

  B.J. felt his breath hitch. Maggie looked adorable. Her hair was twisted in a loose bun on top of her head and she wore a high-collared blouse and dark skirt. A satisfied smile spread across her face. But her index finger tapped impatiently across a cheekbone.

  “Good morning,” his voice sounded more confident than he felt.

  Maggie glared. “Good morning, Dr. Benton.”

  Nope, this isn’t going to be easy. She is most certainly miffed. He raised his hat. “Maggie I was wondering if I could have a word?”

  Her mother answered. “Of course, you can. Malachi and I were just going inside to get some nice cold lemonade. Weren't we, son?”

  “If you say so.” Malachi scratched his chin, then followed his mother through the back door.

  B.J. stepped closer and reached for Maggie’s hand. “I didn’t get a chance to finish explaining last night.”

  She pulled her hand away, crossed her arms and tossed her head. “There’s nothing to explain.”

  B.J. sidestepped and gently lifted her chin. “I can't go back and undo what happened. But I was hoping you would give me another chance.”

  Maggie raised one eyebrow. “A chance?”

  “Would you join me for a picnic this afternoon?” He stared into her eyes, mesmerized by the assorted shades of green and blue. “I’ll pick up food from the diner and we can make an afternoon of it. Just you and me.”

  “Just you and me?” She licked her lips. “For what purpose?”

  “To enjoy ourselves. I’ve missed spending time with you. I was hoping you felt the same.” His forehead wrinkled. “What do you say?”

  “I say, save your picnic for Victoria.” Maggie pivoted and strode toward the house.

  B.J. stepped in front of her and placed a light hand on her forearm. “I can't imagine taking someone like her on a picnic.” He shook his head. “Nor do I want to. I’m asking you. Please say yes.”

  Maggie’s eyes dropped to the chain on his vest. Her eyebrows narrowed.

  “This is the timepiece my grandfather left me.” B.J. lifted his watch from his pocket and opened the pendant. “I’m done with my old watch, the superficial dreams and the people that went along with it. I want to make a life here. I’m hoping you’ll be a part of it. Please give me the opportunity to show you how much I care.”

  Maggie’s lips trembled. “As much as I want to, I can’t help but think I would be setting myself up to be hurt. One week you’re staring at a photo of a former love, and the next you’re fixated on someone just like her. I can never be a sophisticated woman like the type you seem so attracted to.”

  I’m not interested in Victoria or Claire or anyone else but you.” B.J. leaned closer. “Let me prove it to you.”

  “I don’t know.” Maggie shuffled her feet.

  “What harm can there be in you going on a picnic with me?” B.J.’s eyes darkened as he kissed the back of her hand.

  Maggie shook her head. “Maybe another time.”

  B.J. felt his stomach clench. Recalling his father’s advice, he took in a deep breath. “How about if I pick you up for church tomorrow? Perhaps afterward we can go to lunch?”

  Chapter 17

  The sun shone through the small window casting light into the children’s Sunday school room. Luke 10:27, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and love thy neighbor as thyself,” was printed neatly on the chalkboard on the center wall. The younger boys and girls classes were combined. The children sat on wooden benches aligned together in a double row.

  B.J. pulled on his collar. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. This was the third week he’d assisted Maggie with her Sunday school class. He’d laughed when Emma said it would be easier to herd cats than teach a room full of little girls, but after the first week he agreed.

  Knowing the boys would be joining them this morning, B.J. suggested they reward them with candy. “I’m not too proud to say I’m desperate. Maybe it will keep them quiet long enough to read the Bible lesson,” he reasoned. Maggie readily agreed.

  She blew out a breath as the children settled quietly to enjoy their treats. How do schoolteachers do this on a daily basis? “I’m proud of you for working so hard on your memorization. Please thank Dr. Benton for rewarding you with the candy.”

  Maggie gave a quick smile to B.J. His face lit up with a wide grin. The time they’d spent together the past several weeks endeared him to her more than she could have thought possible.

  “Thank you.” Five little girls responded in unison. Their heads bobbed as they devoured the candy sticks. Six wide-eyed boys in overalls echoed their thanks.

  “While you are enjoying your peppermint, we’ll begin with the parable of the Good Samaritan.” B.J. opened his Bible and began to paraphrase, “Jesus told a story to his followers and it went like this: Once there was a man on the way to town. He was a long way from home on a rocky road between two hills—”

  “I hope he was watching for snakes or bobcats.” Henry, a six-year-old with red hair and freckles, waved his candy stick like a six-shooter. “I’d have my gun ready. Did he have a weapon or something?”

  “The Bible doesn’t mention it, so my assumption is no.” B.J. coughed to cover a laugh.

  “That was dumb. Anybody knows you have to watch out for wildlife. Rattlesnakes are especially bad in the springtime. Maybe it was winter?”

  The children’s head rotated between Henry and B.J.

  “The Bible doesn’t mention the time of year.” Maggie met B.J’s gaze and offered an encouraging smile.r />
  “How about if I continue and then you can ask questions at the end?” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, the man was walking when some bandits jumped from behind their hiding spot, robbed, beat the man up and left him for dead.”

  “I bet the culprits were those outlaws that live west of here. I’ve seen their posters at the sheriff’s office.” Henry positioned his candy stick in his mouth like a cigar.

  B.J. put his finger to his lip. “Jesus told this story because he was trying to make a point. He wanted to teach the people a lesson. I believe you have the correct idea in mind, but in this case the people are imaginary.”

  “I got a cousin named Imagene. But never heard of nobody called Imaginary.” Henry waved his candy stick.

  Maggie’s chair scraped across the floor as she moved closer to Henry. “What Dr. Benton means is Jesus made up this story to teach us a lesson or a moral.”

  One of the older girls, Helen, pursed her lips. “You know, like the Three Little Pigs.”

  “Oh. I see.” Henry blinked. “Go ahead then.”

  “A few minutes later a preacher was walking down the same path and noticed the man lying on the side of the road.” B.J. glanced up from his Bible. “What do you think you would do if you saw something like that?”

  Six-year-old Caroline raised her hand. “I think I would throw up.”

  ~

  Several hours later, Maggie couldn’t help but giggle as they strolled through town. “Do you think we’re just not cut out for teaching? I honestly thought the candy sticks would help keep them quiet for at least a few minutes.”

  “If anything, it seemed to loosen Henry’s tongue.” B.J.’s shoulders shook with laughter. He paused and squeezed Maggie’s hand tucked around his elbow. “I’m not ready to give up yet.”

  Maggie’s voice cracked. “I’m glad.”

  The click-clump of heavy boots sounded behind them. Maggie spun around to see her oldest brother, Mike, who cleared his throat. “No lollygagging, you two. I’m starving. If you’re not there in five minutes, I’m going to tell Ma you’re eating at the diner.” His dark eyes narrowed, then he marched past them.