Unwilling Warrior

by Andrea Boeshaar

“A woman like you?” Ben hid his amusement but couldn’t help admiring Catherine’s list of abilities. On the other hand, he disliked the fact that her words hit their mark—and that her accurate assessment of what he needed in a wife didn’t exactly describe Valerie. How had he ever thought a woman like Valerie Fontaine would ever be content in Jericho Junction?

  Gwyneth had certainly hated it.

  “I’d make you a good wife, Ben.” Catherine’s voice was but a whisper and her face flamed with innocence. “God told me long ago that I would marry a McCabe.”

  “Well, that might be, but it’s not me, Catherine.” He hated to hurt her. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re just too stubborn to know it yet.” A sudden angry glint in her eyes stole whatever prettiness he’d seen in her face before.

  Deciding it was time to go, he quickly stepped around her. He’d talk to Cousin Max another time. He donned his hat. “Have yourself a good afternoon, Catherine.”

  Walking outside, he squinted as his eyes adjusted to being out in the bright sunshine. He spotted Clint and Em waiting for him at the street.

  “Valerie left with Mr. Ladden.” Emily tipped her head, and Ben looked away so he wouldn’t see her wounded expression. “I’m confused. When did she get engaged?”

  “Not sure. I reckon her father made the arrangements.”

  “Who is that fellow?” Clint wanted to know. “Seems I’ve heard his name before. Ladden?”

  “A neighbor. He escorted Valerie to the party on New Year’s Eve.” Ben took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. He felt downright hot standing in the sun.

  “Is it just me,” Em asked, “or did anyone else notice that the bride-to-be looks extremely unhappy?”

  Clint lowered his gaze and kicked a stone with the toe of his leather boot. “I’d say ‘unhappy’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.” He glanced at Ben. “What are you going to do?”

  “Don’t know.” He shoved his hat back on his head when a movement off to the side caught his attention. He looked over and saw Catherine standing on top of the steps, near the entrance of the church. A slight wind blew across her skirts as she lifted her gloved hand. Ben inclined his head out of politeness.

  “Miss Elliot obviously thinks of herself as more than your friend,” Clint remarked.

  “I explained to her that the feeling is not mutual.”

  “So now what happens?” Em asked. “We’re suddenly thrown out of the Fontaines’ home and I’m never going to see my dear friend again?”

  Clint placed a comforting arm around his wife and sent Ben a helpless stare.

  He understood. They needed a plan. This mess was all his fault anyway. “How ’bout we get in the buggy and you both leave me off at the Fontaines’? I’d like to have a word with Mr. Fontaine—hopefully he’s home. Meanwhile, you two enjoy some lunch. When you’re finished, come on back, seeing as we might have to pack up the wagons.” Ben hoped he could talk the man into allowing at least Emily to stay on. If nothing else, Valerie could use a friend right now.

  “And then what?” Clint asked. “You know we’ve got that big assignment this week. Em can’t come along.”

  “I know.” Along with learning about the voyage to France, he’d found out that Em was expecting. That pretty much changed everything. She figured the baby would come in July. Getting jostled around in a wagon for days on end wouldn’t do her a bit of good. That included this upcoming week.

  He cast a quick glance Catherine’s way. She still stood there, watching them, looking subdued. He always remembered her as a good person, kind . . . and he loved Cousins Max and Amanda.

  “Hey, Clint . . . if my discussion with Mr. Fontaine doesn’t go the way I hope, could Em stay with the Elliots this week?”

  Both Ben and Clint looked at Emily. She rolled a shoulder, but then nodded.

  “Cousin Amanda extended an invite to all of us last week,” Ben went on to explain. “I’ll make sure it still stands. I’m sure it does. But—” He nodded toward the buggy. “—first things first.”

  They boarded the conveyance, and on the way to the Fontaines’ home, Ben silently prayed. For the right words. For wisdom.

  When the carriage stopped at the Fontaines’, Ben climbed out. He didn’t see another buggy parked nearby and figured Valerie was somewhere with Ladden. He tamped down the infuriating thought. “I’ll see you back here in a couple of hours.”

  Clint replied with a nod.

  Walking to the front entrance, Ben was taken by surprise when Adalia pulled open the door even before he reached it. The maid’s eyes were wide and curious—or did she look frightened?

  “Good afternoon, Mr. McCabe. Won’t you come in?”

  “Yes, thank you. I’m here to collect my things.”

  “I know, sir.”

  Ben moved into the house. “Is Mr. Fontaine here?”

  “In his study.”

  He gave Adalia a grateful half bow and then made his way down the hallway. He found Fontaine sitting at his desk, although he didn’t appear to be busy.

  “Mr. Fontaine?”

  “Come in. I’ve been expecting you.”

  “Valerie told Clint, Em, and me that you requested we leave today. We’ll comply with your wishes, of course, but I wondered if Emily could stay. I believe Clint mentioned their surprising news, and he and I have some business that’ll keep us away this week.”

  “A week?”

  “That’s it.”

  Fontaine pursed his lips as he gave it some thought. “I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible. It’s best you all take your leave now.”

  Disappointment enveloped him, but he ventured farther into the stately room. “I also learned this morning that Valerie is marrying Ladden. You’re not taking her with you to France.”

  “No. What would I do with her in France? Whether I marry her off here or there, what does it matter?”

  Ben felt a bit taken aback by the man’s insensitivity. He narrowed his gaze, curious. Fontaine hadn’t ever behaved that way before. He took a seat in one of the handsome leather chairs in front of the large desk. “Both risky choices.”

  “Risky?” Fontaine chuckled. “Hardly.”

  “How do you expect to get around the Union’s blockades once your ship is out to sea? Aren’t you the least bit worried they’ll blow you right out of the water?”

  “I’ll get around the blockades.”

  Ben admired the man’s confidence. “I’m assuming you have contacts . . . I mean, being in the shipping business.”

  Fontaine stared at him. “Do you think I’m fool enough to tell you if I did?”

  Ben wasn’t sure he really cared. “Back to Valerie . . . she told me she’d rather die than marry Ladden. What does that sound like to you?”

  “Sounds like a spoiled young lady who’s determined to have her way.” Fontaine stood. Attired in brown trousers, a matching waistcoat, and a freshly starched white shirt, he looked as impeccably dressed as always. “But she won’t. Not this time.” He stared at some volumes neatly lined on a shelf.

  “So marrying Ladden is her punishment of sorts?”

  He whirled around. “She came home from school without my permission, and it’s made life rather difficult.”

  “Difficult?” Ben couldn’t imagine a father not welcoming his daughter home. “In what way?”

  “More ways than you could possibly guess.”

  “Well, I’m concerned.” Ben sat forward, his elbows on his knees. “Do you think she would risk her life to flee this situation?”

  “She’d better not. She’ll ruin everything—”

  Ben sat upright.

  Chagrin flashed in Fontaine’s eyes. “I’ve said far too much.” He all but muttered the reply. His gaze darted around the study before settling on Ben. “I shall be eternally grateful to your father. He was at my beloved wife’s side when she died. So for that reason alone, I invited you into my home. Since then I’ve come to respect you, and I know my daughter has feel
ings for you—and from what I gather, you have feelings for her too.”

  Ben couldn’t deny it.

  Fontaine looked away. “That’s why I’ve asked you to leave. She’s engaged to James now. It’s unfortunate that things couldn’t have worked out differently.”

  “Yes, it is.” Ben stood. “And it’s a crying shame when money wins over respect.”

  Fontaine raised his chin. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “You always have a choice.”

  Hardness stole over his features. His eyes narrowed. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. McCabe,” he said in strained formality, “there are pressing matters that require my attention.”

  At the dismissal Ben gave him a parting nod. What could he say? He had no jurisdiction here. But he was suddenly determined to find out what was going on.

  His jaw set, he headed upstairs to pack his belongings.

  Thirteen

  You’ve got to talk with your father, Valerie.”

  She sent a glance Emily’s way as they strolled down the block. “I’ve tried. Many times. He refuses to change his mind.”

  “So you’ve resigned yourself to marrying James at the end of the month?”

  Valerie hesitated.

  “Or do you have something else in mind?”

  “In mind? Oh, I have plenty of ideas. But nothing realistic.” A buggy rolled past and Valerie half-expected James to be in it. He watched her every move. She was surprised when he allowed Emily to visit. And taking a walk without him? Valerie savored every second.

  “Have you been all right? I mean, James seems to be quite the authoritarian.”

  “I’d like to say he’s just protective of me. But that’s not true.” The past few nights sprang into mind. During the last three parties that she’d been dragged off to, James parked her in a corner with his mother while he enjoyed himself with friends. Valerie had nothing against Mrs. Ladden at all; the woman was quite pleasant. But James’s actions were less than chivalrous as he waltzed with other ladies and drank his bourbon. Valerie never felt jealous. James could only wish. But worse, there was no rapport between them. Not a single spark. He wasn’t even a friend as far as Valerie was concerned. “He’s quite controlling. His mother is at his beck and call. All James’s brothers are the same way—demanding.”

  Emily linked arms with her. “Valerie, I noticed your . . . well, your bottom lip looks a bit swollen.”

  She brought a gloved hand up to the sore spot on her mouth. “That happened by accident. James’s elbow bumped my lip.” She didn’t add that it happened while she fought off his advances in the carriage the night before last. At least she’d won the battle—this time. “I didn’t think it showed.”

  “It shows.” Emily’s tone hardened. “Oooh, what I wouldn’t like to do to that man!”

  “James really didn’t intentionally hurt me.”

  Emily narrowed her gaze as if she didn’t believe it.

  They rounded the corner, and Valerie took a moment to admire Mrs. Saunders’s window box full of colorful blooms.

  “Emily, my trunk is nearly packed. Adalia’s been helping me. She has a friend whose son lives in Savannah. He and his wife mentioned in a recent letter that they might like a housekeeper. Adalia thinks they’d pay my way if I agreed to work for them for a year or so.”

  “No, Valerie.” Em stopped short and peered hard into her face. “You can’t do that. You don’t know what you’ll be walking into. What if the situation there proves worse than this one? And I’m sure it could be worse.”

  “Not much more.”

  They continued walking.

  “I haven’t committed to anything. It’s just one of my many notions for escape.”

  “Good. Keep thinking.”

  She did, and she recalled her recent conversation with James’s mother. “Mrs. Ladden talked to me about what she termed as ‘wifely duties.’ Her husband and James both insisted we have that discussion so I’d know what’s expected of becoming a Ladden.” Valerie felt almost sorry for the older woman as she described her life. “Mrs. Ladden made marriage sound like sheer drudgery. No voicing of opinions. No discussions. Just fetching, cooking, and altogether submitting like a hound, not a wife. I could hardly sleep last night just thinking about it.” Valerie didn’t add that Benjamin had constantly crept into her thoughts too. She had to get him off her mind—

  Except not a day went by that James didn’t bring up the solarium incident. He used it as a form of manipulation, but it only made Valerie recall Benjamin’s kiss all over again.

  “Valerie, keep trying to get through to your father.”

  So they were back to that again. “I’m telling you, Emily, it’s no use.” She couldn’t bear to tell her friend about the debt Father owed and how her marriage to James would cancel it. James said Father had ruined the Fontaine name in New Orleans. He’d shown up drunk at business meetings. He’d embarrassed friends with outbursts. He’d all but lost Fontaine Shipping. That explained why he chose to take off for his ancestral country where he hoped to start a new life from the place where Grandpapa began. Forget the pain of losing Mama. Forget her . . .

  Valerie thought it so sad that her father wanted to run from his memories, from responsibilities.

  But wasn’t she just as pitiful, running from her circumstances? The notion had crept into her thoughts more than once.

  “You know, Emily, perhaps I’m going about things all wrong. What if I don’t run away?” The thought terrified her. But she had nowhere to run. So, what if . . .

  “This morning Pastor Elliot read from the Bible. Afterwards he talked about handing over our troubles to God, as well as our hopes and dreams and our plans.”

  “Casting your burdens on the Lord . . . ” Valerie was reminded of her mother’s favorite verse. “Psalm 55.”

  Emily smiled. “Mm, yes. And Pastor Elliot emphasized that the key to having a sense of peace, even in a time of war, is not to take back our burdens once we’ve surrendered them. His advice has stayed with me all day.”

  “Why, thank you for passing it along.” Immediately Valerie thought of the fishermen near the docks she’d seen many times as a child. They cast their lines out into the sea. But if they continually pulled them back in, they’d never catch anything. They had to cast, wait, trust . . . and pray.

  Hoofbeats sounded from behind, and then a rider reined in beside them. Valerie looked up and saw James in the saddle. “I think you ladies have traversed far enough.” He stared down into Valerie’s eyes. Emily hugged her arm. “Time to turn around and head for home.”

  ***

  Raindrops drummed an anxious beat on the carriage’s hood. Valerie trained her gaze straight ahead as she wondered at James’s mood. It was a miracle that he’d allowed her to accept the Elliots’ dinner offer this evening. Knowing Benjamin was still away, Valerie thought it’d be a good excuse to see Emily again.

  Suddenly she felt James shift his weight next to her. His arm snaked across the back of her shoulders. Valerie tried not to squirm.

  “Kiss me.” His husky whisper sounded close to her ear.

  “Not now, James, stop it.” She was forever fending off his advances.

  “We’re engaged.”

  “Yes, but there’s just one problem.” She hesitated. “I don’t love you.” She turned slightly. “I’m sorry, James, but I never will.”

  The weight of his anger filled the carriage, but he didn’t act on it.

  Silence followed; however, Valerie’s senses remained on high alert. With James, she never knew what might happen next. How could she possibly live like this day in and day out?

  “You know,” James said, “I’ve always admired your willfulness—your determination.” His voice resounded on a sensible note.

  Valerie stared at her gloved hands.

  “You’re a challenge for a man like me. Every reply you give me is another dare that I can’t refuse.”

  She wisely kept her mouth shut.

  They ar
rived at the Elliots’ without another incident. Once inside their cozy home, Valerie sensed God’s presence and began to relax.

  Emily gave her a knowing look and then a hug. Catherine came forward and sent a brief smile before she collected her and James’s outer wraps.

  Pastor Elliot welcomed him with an enthusiastic handshake. “I met you Sunday. It’s a pleasure to see you again. Come in.”

  James hung back and grasped Valerie’s elbow. He bent close to her. “You said the invitation was from the Elliots.”

  “Indeed it was. You met Pastor and Mrs. Elliot last Sunday. This is their home.”

  “These aren’t the same Elliots I had in mind.” He spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Hm, well, I must admit I was surprised when you agreed to come tonight. The activities will be quite different from the parties we’ve attended this week.” One part amusement and three parts gratitude swelled inside Valerie. She’d grown weary of being tucked into a corner while James lived it up.

  Valerie claimed an armchair, and Pastor Elliot engaged him in conversation. Then dinner was served. James picked at his beef stew. He shifted in his chair from time to time, but the dinner topics weren’t anything uncomfortable or vexing. What’s more, no one brought up the subject of their engagement, much to Valerie’s relief.

  At last they retired to the parlor. James made his excuses and started for the small entryway.

  “Come along, Valerie.”

  She had just seated herself opposite Emily on the settee and started to rise when Catherine got to her feet. She walked toward James with an air of confidence and stood a good deal taller. “Go about your business, and we’ll see to it that Valerie arrives home safely.” Her tone left no room for argument while Catherine stared him down like a stern schoolmarm.

  “I imagine that’ll be all right.” James took a step back. Glancing at Valerie, he added, “But I want you home by midnight.”

  Once he’d gone, Emily clucked her tongue. “Ooh, that man and his condescending ways!”

  Relief that he’d gone peaceably washed over Valerie. She loathed what seemed her lot in life, and it certainly didn’t feel like God’s will. But what could she do about it? Their wedding was in a week. Her heart sank like a lead ball.