by Irene Brand
Hearing these words from Alta encouraged Violet, because after the spiritual climate Janie had enjoyed in Mrs. Grady’s home, it would have been difficult to see her thrust into a non-Christian atmosphere.
“Be assured that I will do anything I can to help you,” Violet told them, “but Janie shouldn’t have her hopes raised until you know how to proceed.” Rising, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I think I have a picture of Janie.” She went into the dining room and extracted an album from her desk. She opened it and handed it to the Skeens. “I took that picture of Janie beside her Social Studies exhibit when we were in Springfield a few months ago. It’s a good likeness of her.”
“She’s a pretty girl,” Alta said.
“Yes, she is. She was very thin when she enrolled in our school, but she’s filled out quite a lot under Mrs. Grady’s care. I’m very fond of her.”
“Yes, we can tell that, and it goes a long way in making me believe that we could make her happy.”
“You’ve been a big help to us, Miss Conley,” Clifford Skeen said as he stood to leave. “I’m pleased Janie has found such a good teacher and friend.”
“She’s a lovely girl—it’s easy to love a girl like Janie.”
Three weeks passed, and when Violet didn’t have another call from her grandfather, she rested more easily, believing that he had given up on her. Apparently the letter from William O’Brien had convinced Josiah that Violet would not come to live with him. She did feel sorry for the man, that now with the end of his long life in sight, he had no family to share his wealth. He had lived for worldly gain, and in the end it would profit him little. When she thought along this line, she was so relieved that she and Roger had made the choice to live on a modest income, rather than to enjoy “the pleasures of sin for a season,” as the biblical writer had stated.
At the school, some of her popularity had dimmed, but when the announcement of her engagement to Roger was made public, her students looked at her slyly, and especially in the class where Misty was a student, they made cute remarks about her upcoming marriage.
Up until that time, Larry had continued to be friendly, although he had not asked her for another date. When the announcement appeared in the paper, he stopped by the classroom during her preparation period.
“So, you’re going through with your marriage to Gibson?” he said.
“Of course. I told you—did you think I was joking?”
“I didn’t give it much thought, but I think you can do a lot better. I can offer you a lot more than he ever will.”
“That’s a matter of opinion—opinions about what traits I value in the man I marry, but that’s beside the point. Perhaps I have a short memory,” Violet said, “but I can’t remember that I’ve ever had a proposal from you.”
Larry’s face flushed. “I had planned to ask you to marry me about the time your mother came to live here.”
“And you abandoned me at a time when I needed comfort the most! That was when I learned how much I loved Roger—he was my main support during those three months, and I realized he was the kind of man with whom I wanted to share my life.”
“But what about your grandfather’s wealth? You will need someone to handle your share in his estate. Gibson can’t do that.”
Staring at him with incredulous eyes, Violet said, “Larry, if you are taking this interest in me because you think I’m going to inherit from my grandfather, let me set the record straight. I have repudiated my grandfather—I want nothing to do with the Conley millions.”
“What’s going to happen to his fortune? As I understand, you’re his only heir.”
Violet shrugged her shoulders. “I believe he mentioned donating to charity, but it doesn’t matter to me. All I want is for him to continue to ignore me as he has all of my life.”
But if Violet wasn’t interested in the Conley wealth, she soon learned that others were. Only a week after her frank discussion with Larry, one evening she received a telephone call from Olivia Holland.
“Violet,” Mrs. Holland said in her most persuasive tone, “I learned that your grandfather is coming to Saint Louis on a business trip next Thursday, and I invited him to come here to our home for dinner, and afterward to be honored at a reception at the country club, to which I’ve asked influential people in this section of the state. I want you to be our guest for dinner, and then to stand in the receiving line at the country club.”
“Thank you,” Violet replied, “but I have another engagement that night.” She was going with Roger and his youth group to his farm for a hayride and a wiener roast. “But even if I weren’t already committed, I wouldn’t accept your invitation—my grandfather and I aren’t on good terms and never have been.”
Olivia’s voice hardened. “I always considered you an intelligent woman.”
“I still consider myself intelligent,” Violet said calmly, although her heart was pounding like a jack-hammer. “And I prefer not to discuss this subject anymore. Thank you for the invitation, but I must decline.” She gently replaced the receiver, wondering if anyone else had ever been nervy enough to hang up on Olivia Holland.
And Violet hadn’t done it without some trepidation. The Hollands were powerful in this state—powerful enough that they could exert pressure to cause Roger to lose his job, and certainly Larry could make her school employment difficult or nonexistent. She had already considered asking for a transfer, for it was becoming more difficult for her to concentrate on her work when relations were strained between her and Larry.
When she saw Roger, she shared her fears about Olivia interfering in their lives.
“She undoubtedly will,” he conceded, “so we should be prepared for it. But with my training, I can go anywhere and find a job, and good teachers are always in demand.”
“Would you mind leaving Maitland?”
“Yes, of course, but I would do that gladly rather than for either of us to kowtow to the Holland factions to keep our jobs. It might be better for us to start our lives over in a new environment anyway. I really don’t think it’s fair to you to move you into a house I occupied with my first wife. I’ve wondered if I shouldn’t sell that house and buy another.”
“I’m not concerned about it, and Jason and Misty might object.”
“I wouldn’t do it without discussing the matter with them, but they might prefer to move, too. I don’t want you to ever feel that you’re in second place. I loved my wife, but it’s over. God has given you to me, and I love you for yourself. It will be a new life for me.”
“Then you’re saying it doesn’t matter if we do lose our jobs.”
“I wouldn’t like it because a dismissal would not be good for my record, but I do have a good record and several years of seniority. I frankly doubt that the Hollands can touch me, but I’m saying that if we have to choose between our employment and standing up for what we believe is right, we can risk the jobs.”
“It’s no wonder I love you so much, Roger. A lifetime with you is going to be a pleasure.”
So while Olivia Holland entertained Josiah B. Conley and made the headlines of the Maitland News, Violet, bundled in a heavy coat and jeans, acted as chaperon to a score of teenagers as the tractor jostled the loaded wagon over the uneven road to a secluded area on the creek bank where a bonfire was built. Until the flames died down, the group sang campfire songs, and then roasted their hotdogs over the glowing coals. More than once, Roger’s eyes intercepted Violet’s, and he nodded encouragingly. She realized that his mind also was on that other meeting and what repercussions it might have for them. Once he paused by her side, and whispered, “If God is on our side, what can man do to us? Compared to the power of God, the combined forces of Josiah Conley and Olivia Holland are feeble.”
Violet was pleased to see that the church youth had dropped many of their reservations about Janie’s past, and she was reacting to their friendship as a rose would blossom in the rays of the sun. She strongly suspected that one of the boys had developed a
romantic interest in Janie.
When Violet wandered away from the campfire, so she could look up at the numerous stars in the darkness, Janie followed her.
“Miss Conley, I’ve had some news that could be bad, but I’m hoping for the best. Mrs. Grady has learned from the social agency that someone is asking questions about me and I’m hoping it’s my father.”
“That would be wonderful, Janie,” was the only answer Violet could give because she didn’t want to raise the girl’s hopes and then have her disappointed if her father couldn’t take her. She wished they had some way to know what had happened to Janie’s mother. “I’m praying for you, dear.”
Violet spent the rest of the evening contemplating Janie’s future to forestall any thoughts of her own paternal heritage, for she couldn’t dispel the feeling that Josiah Conley wasn’t finished with her yet.
Since they were considering the purchase of a new house, Roger and Violet decided to put Violet’s house up for sale and use the proceeds from it as a down payment on a new house when they selected one. On Saturday morning, they were showing the house to a real estate agent, when Violet looked out the window to see a sleek limousine pulling gingerly into her driveway.
Her muttered, “Oh, no,” brought Roger to her side immediately.
“Josiah Conley?” he said. Violet nodded.
“Are you going to talk with him?”
“I might as well—he won’t leave me alone until I do, and maybe not then.”
“The real estate agent is about finished anyway, so I’ll ask him to do some figuring and telephone you on Monday with his proposed sale price. Do you want me to leave, too?”
“No, I won’t talk with him alone. He intimidates me.”
When the doorbell rang, Violet murmured a short prayer for guidance before she opened the door. Her grandfather was accompanied by his secretary, Miss Whitaker. Violet unlocked the storm door and motioned for them to enter.
“Please be seated,” she said. “May I offer you a cup of coffee?”
“No, we’ve breakfasted,” Josiah declined; but the secretary looked as if she might have welcomed something.
Josiah took Violet’s chair, and she sat on the couch beside Miss Whitaker.
“Why have you been avoiding me? Why haven’t you answered my calls?” Josiah said, putting Violet on the defensive immediately.
“After I notified you that I wasn’t interested in the position you were offering me, I didn’t consider that we had anything to discuss.”
“Did you really think that I would take your answer as final? I’m willing to negotiate with you—what more do you want?”
The kitchen door closed behind the real estate agent, and Violet sensed Roger’s presence in the room. She turned in his direction.
Standing, she said, “Roger, let me introduce you to Josiah B. Conley. This is my fiancé, Roger Gibson.” She moved to Roger’s side, and he put an arm around her waist.
Josiah looked Roger up and down, and Roger stood patiently under the sharp scrutiny. Since he was going to work in an hour, he was wearing his uniform, and he presented an awesome bearing. “Well, you’ve picked a man,” Josiah conceded at last. “I was given to understand that you were interested in Larry Holland.”
Roger continued to stand, but Violet resumed her seat on the couch.
“Not any more. When my mother came here to live, he dropped me like a hot potato, and didn’t show any more interest until he learned I was related to you. He doesn’t want me—he’s interested in your wealth.”
“Which shows that he’s a wise man,” Josiah said, making Violet realize that this characteristic of Larry’s elevated him in her grandfather’s estimation.
Josiah turned to Roger. “Are you the one who persuaded Violet to turn down a handsome position as my granddaughter and sole heir?”
“No, sir—Violet made that decision alone, but I support her stand.”
“I’ve had both of you investigated,” Josiah said, “and as my heirs, you would make more money in a month than you do now in a year. Doesn’t that interest you?”
“No, sir,” Roger said. “I have all I need now.”
“What if I told you that I have a nephew who is more than willing to step in and take what you’re rejecting?” Josiah said to Violet, his eyes piercing in their intensity.
She smiled. “That would make me very happy, for I am sorry that I had to reject your offer—not sorry for myself, but for you because I thought you had no one else to turn to. Your nephew seems like a good solution to your problem.”
“Well, you’ve had your chance,” Josiah said, rising from the chair. “I don’t have to beg anyone to be my heir. Anyway, I doubt I would be happy having a murderess’s daughter bear my grandchildren.”
Violet started angrily, and Roger moved swiftly to her side, his arm on her shoulder suggesting caution. She swallowed twice before she had the strength to ignore the insult.
“That is my opinion, too,” Violet said quietly. “And since you’ve brought up my mother, I want to tell you that there will be a documentary about her crime, trial, imprisonment and death on “Travesty of Justice” in two weeks. You may want to watch it.”
Anger changed his features. “How dare you! I will not have the Conley name sullied. I’ll block that broadcast.”
“I doubt you can do that,” Violet said. “All of the information they use is available to the public, except for some court documents, which I have authorized them to use.”
“How dare you!” Josiah repeated, and started toward Violet, his hands clenched at his side. Roger stepped in front of her.
“It’s time for you to leave, Mr. Conley,” he said quietly and firmly, but his eyes glittered dangerously.
“Violet has made her position plain. She doesn’t want to have any further contact with you.”
“I’ll sue to stop that program, or anything else I have to do.”
Feeling that Josiah had conquered his desire to harm her, Violet stood beside Roger again. “My lawyer is William O’Brien, in Kansas City. You can reach me through him if you have any further need to contact me,” Violet said. “You’ve spent almost a quarter of a century without recognizing me, and I really don’t feel that it would have worked out. I now have the full facts of what caused Mother to kill her husband and how you railroaded her into prison, and I can never forget that, although my Christian beliefs have led me to forgive you. When I was a child, I would have welcomed some attention from you, but it’s too late now. I believe we will both be happier if we continue as we have in the past.”
“You’ll be sorry,” Josiah said, as he headed for the door, curtly motioning for his secretary to follow him. Miss Whitaker gave Violet a compassionate glance before she left the house. Violet turned into Roger’s arms and put her head on his shoulder.
“Will he leave us alone now?”
“I think so,” Roger answered slowly. “I read defeat in his eyes when you said you would have liked some attention when you were a child.”
“I only hope I can put all of this behind me. I don’t want anything to interfere with our chances for a happy marriage.”
“I’m not worried about that, nor should you be. Don’t forget our Lord’s words when he cautioned, ‘Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.’ I’ve given a lot of prayerful thought to our marriage, searching the Bible for assurance that we’ve made the right decision, and over and over I keep returning to the incident in the Old Testament when Joshua challenged the Israelites to serve God, and more than once, I’ve made the same pledge Joshua did, ‘But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.’”
“You’re right, of course, and I do trust most of the time, but I have my moments of weakness, and the overwhelming personality of Josiah Conley causes my courage to dwindle. When I worry about what he and the Hollands might do to us, I keep reminding myself of the Apostle Paul’s words to the Romans, ‘For I am convinced that neither death nor li
fe, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.’”
“That’s the way to believe,” Roger assured her. “I’m not anticipating a carefree future, and we can expect to face difficulties, but we need to hold on to the truth that with God on our side, nothing will come our way that we can’t handle together.”
“That word together is a powerful antidote for trouble,” Violet agreed. “Only a short time until that’s a reality.”
Chapter Eleven
Roger and Violet had agreed upon a simple wedding with only Misty and Jason as their attendants, and on Thursday night, Violet invited the three Gibsons for supper, and afterward, they would make plans for the ceremony. She prepared a large pan of lasagna, a garden salad, garlic bread, and tried her hand at a blueberry pie, which she would serve warm with frozen vanilla yogurt. Her hands trembled as she extended the dining room table and laid four place settings, realizing that this would be the normal eating arrangement when she acquired her new family. She had seldom prepared a meal for more than two people, although she had learned to cook under Aunt Ruth’s tutelage. What if the children didn’t like her cooking?
By the time the Gibsons arrived, she was edgy, to the extent that she caught herself nibbling on her fingernails. She took a deep breath when she heard the pickup pull into the driveway. Misty and Jason breezed into the house in an argument over the merits of their favorite soccer teams.
“Smells good in here,” Jason commented. “Pie!” he said, when he spied the pastry cooling on the cabinet.