My Heart's Desire

by Wendy Lindstrom

  He leaned back, revealing the sculpted shadows of his face. “Don’t walk away, Faith.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I mean ever.” He broke away to kneel by the lantern. He raised the wick, illuminating his handsome face. He raised his hand, palm up, to her. “Will you marry me?”

  Her breath whooshed out. She stared at him, so golden and beautiful kneeling beneath the gilded maple tree, offering the life she’d prayed for.

  “I’ve seen how happy my brothers and their wives are with each other. I didn’t think I’d ever find that with anyone until I met you. My head, my heart, and my gut say you’re the one for me, and that we can share that same joy and passion. Say you’ll be my wife, that we can create a good, happy life together.”

  To see him on his knee, his gorgeous gaze filled with trust and desire, made her eyes fill with tears.

  “Say yes, Faith. Say you’ll meet me right here beneath this tree three weeks from now and take your vows with me.”

  “Oh, Duke...” She linked her fingers with his, wishing she could be more for him, tortured by her conscience, torn by her need for truth and her need for security. She knelt in front of him. “I’d be honored to be your wife.”

  “I’ll make you happy,” he promised then sealed the vow with a tender kiss.

  “You already have.” She cradled his face, the face she would kiss each night and wake to each morning, and vowed in her heart to be perfect for him, to bring him joy and laughter if not truth. Starting now, right here beneath these beautiful stars, she would put her past behind her and think only of their future, of pleasing him, of making sure he never regretted marrying her.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Radford dropped his hand maul in the lumberyard and gaped at Duke. “You’re what?”

  “I’m marrying Faith on August second.”

  Boyd and Kyle exchanged a shocked glance.

  “Stop looking like someone died, fellas. I’m not new at this. I’ve been courting women since I was sixteen. I don’t need months to decide if Faith is the right woman for me. She is, and I’m going to marry her in three weeks. Radford, I’d like you to be my best man.”

  Radford’s jaw dropped.

  “I stepped in so Evelyn had someone to give her away when she married you,” Duke said, reminding Radford that he’d stood by him during a difficult time. “I’m hoping you’ll stand for my wedding, too.” Duke had considered asking Patrick or Boyd, but he wanted Radford to stand beside him and give his blessing, to witness their vows, and to accept Faith and Adam and Cora as part of their family. “I’d like you to do it.”

  Radford gave him a half nod. “All right. I will.” He shook Duke’s hand. “Congratulations,” he said, but sounded like he was offering his condolences.

  Kyle gave Duke’s shoulder a hard squeeze. “Does Mother know yet?”

  “I told her this morning, and she was pleased. She wants to help Faith plan the wedding.”

  Boyd caught Duke’s hand in a firm clasp. “Congratulations. Where’s the party?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “We can have it at our house,” Radford said.

  His offer surprised Duke, and it meant a lot that Radford was trying to be supportive despite his reservations. “Thanks, Rad. I’d like that.”

  “What can we do to help?” Kyle asked.

  “Welcome Faith, Adam, and Cora to our family,” he said, swelling with pride that his beautiful Faith, his soon-to-be wife, would take her place alongside his lovely sisters-in-laws.

  On Tuesday afternoon Dr. Paul Milton limped into the greenhouse. He was the last person Faith wanted to see while feeling so disheartened. The new owners of the Colburn house were beginning to move in. She’d seen men carrying furniture inside all week, and this morning, Nancy Grayson had delivered a housewarming gift to the new owners.

  Aster puffed up like an angry bulldog as she faced the doctor. “If you’ve come to give us another lecture, Dr. Milton, you just limp your sorry self right back out the door.”

  Faith gawked at her aunt. Aster had always been blunt, but never intentionally rude. When they’d heard that the doctor had had a buggy accident on Saturday, Aster said he’d needed to be taken down a peg. Faith sent a note wishing him well, and apologizing for her unladylike outburst at the lawn party. She wasn’t sorry at all, but she didn’t want to antagonize any of Duke’s acquaintances, especially when he might need their vote in the election.

  “I’d like to speak with Mrs. Wilkins,” the doctor said, but Aster blocked his way to the counter where Faith was showing Cora how to use a mortar and pestle to crush peppermint leaves.

  “My niece is planning her wedding to the sheriff, and I won’t let you rain on her happiness.”

  Iris and Tansy were a row away clipping herbs for two customers. All four women turned their attention to Aster and the doctor.

  His face flushed. “I have no intention of raining on anything, Miss Wilde. I’m seeking a turn in this bath I’ve been hearing about.”

  Aster arched a white eyebrow. “Are you referring to the herbal bath we’re using as a means to ‘swindle money from the innocent ladies in town’? Isn’t that what you accused us of?”

  “I’m willing to try the bath myself and change my opinion.”

  Aster shook her head. “Sorry, Doctor, but the bath isn’t available to men.”

  “Sheriff Grayson comes here for treatment, does he not?”

  “The sheriff is using our services to assure you kind citizens we’re running a respectable business.”

  “Those of us in the healing profession would like that same assurance.”

  “Rubbish, Doctor. You’re here because your own medicine won’t relieve your pain, and you’re desperate enough to try our bath. I should boot your arrogant carcass right out the door— but proving you wrong is going to be much more satisfying.” She ignored the gasps and titters from Iris and the ladies, and headed toward the bathhouse. “Come along, Doctor. You have the pleasure of being my patient for the morning.”

  The doctor limped along behind Aster, looking a bit bewildered and browbeaten, which Faith found immensely satisfying. Her aunts gave her constant lessons in handling men. She just wished they could help her silence her conscience. It was killing her to let Duke walk into their marriage blind.

  Three days had passed since she’d accepted his proposal, and she could barely think of anything but their upcoming marriage. Their commitment to each other had eased her anxiety about the future and allowed her to return his warmth and affection. But she felt deceitful and undeserving of his kindness.

  “Is this squished enough?” Cora asked, peering into the mortar bowl at the greenish paste.

  “Yes, sweetie. We’ll add some lavender after lunch.” She kissed the top of Cora’s head and reminded herself that marrying Duke was the right thing to do.

  Faith fed Cora then put her down for a nap in the pasture, as Cora now referred to their pretty bedchamber. Tansy’s talent was impressive, and Faith felt a sense of peace and wonder as she gazed at the pony and the expansive view Tansy had painted on her wall.

  She found Tansy whisking her brush across the parlor wall, creating a green and cranberry paisley pattern. “I’ll finish the rest tomorrow,” the woman said, her eyes lit with excitement.

  “It’s going to look gorgeous,” Faith said. “We’ll be the envy of every woman in town.”

  “Wouldn’t that be ironic?”

  Faith laughed. “It surely would be.” She helped Tansy carry the pails and paint brushes to the greenhouse where they found Aster, Dahlia, and Iris at the counter howling with laughter.

  “Dr. Milton shucked his arrogance right along with his clothes,” Aster was saying.

  “What are you old hens cackling about?” Tansy asked, plunking her pail and brushes on the counter. Faith followed and set her bucket beside Tansy’s.

  “Aster’s telling us about Doc Milton’s visit,” Dahlia said, chuckling.

 
Faith scanned the greenhouse and was relieved to see it empty.

  “Well, you should have seen that man,” Aster said, her cheeks more flushed than Faith had ever seen them. “When I dug my fingers into his sore left buttock, he squeaked like a frightened mouse. He says, ‘Miss Wilde! What are you doing down there?’” Aster cackled and pressed her hand to her stomach. “I said, ‘Surely, Doctor, you’re intelligent enough to realize I’m massaging your backside.’”

  “Oh!” Tansy squealed with laughter. “I wish I could have witnessed that.”

  “Doc says, ‘Woman, you do have a mouth on you, but I could surely get used to those hands of yours.” Aster slapped the counter and laughed until she coughed. “You know, I actually liked the man.”

  Faith’s laughter mingled with their howls. She loved these bawdy women and their honest revelations.

  “Did you ladies scare away our customers?” she asked. Two women had come earlier for a mix of chamomile and bee balm to make a tea to ease their monthly discomfort. One woman stopped for rosemary and mint oil to help her sleep better. But Faith’s busy greenhouse was empty of customers for the first time all week.

  “It’s been quiet all day” Dahlia leaned her elbows on the counter, resting her ample bosoms on the surface. “I may as well go help Anna and her houseguest Millie with a quilt they’re working on.”

  Dahlia and Anna had become fast friends, and Faith was glad her aunt was settling in to their new life. They all were in small ways, and it pleased Faith, but she was worried about their income. If the customers stopped coming in, so would their money. She couldn’t expect Duke to provide for all of them.

  “I can’t imagine our hot bath has much appeal in mid-July” she said, hoping it was just the weather keeping the women away. “Maybe we should offer a cold bath instead.”

  “That would have seriously shrunk the doctor’s arrogance,” Aster said, setting everyone off again.

  When the door opened, their laughter ceased, and they turned to see a boy Adam’s age carrying a large package in his arms. “I’m looking for Mrs. Wilkins,” he said.

  Faith identified herself, and the boy brought the package to the counter. She gave him a nickel she had in her skirt pocket, and he scooted outside with it clutched in his fist.

  “What is it?” Tansy whispered.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t order anything.”

  Iris, who had behaved herself all week, poked at the package. “I’ll bet it’s from the sheriff.”

  It was. He’d sent a dress in sky-blue silk patterned with tiny white dewdrop flowers and decorated with blue satin ribbons. He’d included matching shoes and a shawl as he had for her other dress. Faith had planned to wear that dress again to the theater performance tomorrow evening, but he clearly had a better idea.

  Iris heaved a dramatic sigh. “Now I regret not trying to steal him away from you.”

  “You couldn’t have,” Tansy said. “The sheriff wanted Faith the minute he set eyes on her. But I think Mr. Lyons will buy you lots of dresses if you marry him.”

  “Why don’t you marry Mr. Daaahlin’?” Iris asked with an exaggerated drawl. “If you and Faith both marry soon, we won’t have to worry about our income. Mr. Darling will ask soon, Tansy.”

  Tansy shook her head. “Won’t matter. I can’t marry a Yankee.”

  “Why not?” Aster asked, her voice booming across the greenhouse.

  Tansy pulled back as if Aster had slapped her. “Because Yankees killed my husband.”

  Faith dropped her dress onto the counter and gaped with the rest of them.

  “You were married?” Iris asked softly. “You never told us.”

  Tansy released a trembling sigh. “I married Leroy when I was nineteen. I was two months pregnant when he went to war in ‘sixty-one. I lost the baby shortly afterward, and Leroy was killed three years later.”

  “Oh, honey...” Iris stroked Tansy’s narrow back. “That’s heartbreaking.”

  “It destroyed me,” she agreed, the sadness in her voice making Faith’s eyes tear. “When they gave me the news about Leroy, I thought of Mama and Daddy and all the people I loved and would someday lose, and I wanted to die right there. Everything in the South was destroyed by then. I walked out the door hoping to find my own death, but I ended up at the brothel and y’all know the rest.”

  Aster patted Tansy’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you ever share this with us?”

  “Because it hurt too much to remember. And it never mattered until now” She hung her head. “Cyrus sings like an angel.”

  Dahlia released a sad laugh and hugged Tansy. “No wonder we love you.”

  “We surely do.” Iris hooked her arms around Dahlia and Tansy. “Maybe Cyrus wasn’t even in the war, hon. You should ask him.

  Aster looked on like a mother hen, and Faith felt a deep sadness for all of them, for their lost innocence, for their lost dreams, for the love they were worthy of but didn’t have.

  After supper, Cora rushed into the house with a note clutched in her hand. “A man said to give this to you.”

  Faith had her hands in dishwater, so Aster read the note to her.

  “‘Time for us to settle this matter’,” she said, a scowl drawing her white eyebrows down. “‘Meet me in the greenhouse tonight at ten o’clock. Come alone. I won’t take no for an answer.’”

  Faith’s blood turned to ice and she froze with her hands in the water.

  Aster’s face turned as white as her hair.

  Tansy dropped the pan she was drying. It landed on the floor with a bong and rolled into the wall. “Dear heaven, who sent that?”

  “It doesn’t say.”

  Iris and Dahlia rushed from their bedchambers. “What happened?”

  Fingers trembling, Aster passed the note to Iris. “I think Judge Stone has found us.”

  Iris and Dahlia read the note, and Dahlia slammed her hand on the table. “We can’t let him chase us away again.”

  Cora cast a frightened look at Faith.

  “Come here, honey” Faith wiped her hands on her apron then opened her arms. “Who gave you the note?”

  “A man did,” Cora said, rushing into Faith’s protective embrace.

  “What did he look like?”

  “A bear with white hair.”

  Faith had seen several white-haired men in the village, but the only man who would write a note like that was Judge Stone. Her stomach clutched with fear, knowing he had approached Cora and could have easily taken her, and would have done so deliberately to remind Faith of his power. She looked for Adam and panicked.

  “Where’s Adam?”

  “Under the bridge with Rebecca,” Cora said. “He told me not to come down there by the water.”

  Faith trembled with fury and fear. Adam was supposed to be watching Cora while Faith was cleaning up. Instead he was flirting! Was that all boys and men could think about?

  She handed Cora to Dahlia. “We need to make a plan. I’ll be right back with Adam.”

  She stormed to the bridge that crossed Canadaway Creek at Water Street, and saw him sitting on the bank with Rebecca. “Adam Steven Dearborn! Get up here this instant!”

  His head snapped up, and he stared in shock.

  She had never screamed at him, but she was terrified. “Judge Stone just gave Cora a note while you were down here playing. He could have taken her!”

  Adam’s eyes widened, and he clawed his way up the bank. “Is he here?”

  “Somewhere, yes. And he’s coming back.”

  “I got to go,” Adam yelled to Rebecca then ran for the house.

  Faith followed him, not caring if the neighbors saw her mad flight. She wanted to get inside and bar the door. She wished she could run for Duke, but how could she ask for his help without confessing everything? What a mess she’d made for herself. What a grave she’d dug when she cheated Stone of the prize he wanted.

  Faith gathered at the table with her aunts and slowly formed a plan. At nine-thirty that night, she sli
pped out to the greenhouse with Aster and Iris, leaving Tansy and Dahlia behind to guard Adam and Cora. She lit a lantern on the counter then lowered the wick to keep the interior deeply shadowed. They armed themselves with clubs and a strong rope then crouched between flats of plants to wait for the judge.

  A few minutes after ten o’clock, the door swung open. Iris leapt forward with a grating growl and beaned the man on the head with a three foot piece of leftover lumber. He clutched his head and fell into a flat of wintergreen. Aster leapt at him with her club, and Faith rushed forward with the rope.

  “Stop!” Patrick Lyons thrust his hand up to block Aster’s swing. “Are you women daft?”

  “Patrick?” Iris dropped to her knees beside him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting killed by crazy women.” He rubbed his head and pushed to his elbow. “What did you hit me with? I’m bleeding like a stuck pig.”

  Faith rushed to the counter and raised the lantern wick. The right side of Patrick’s forehead was covered in blood. “Good grief,” she said, grabbing a clean linen off the shelf. She rushed it to Iris, who pressed it to Patrick’s head. “You stupid man. Don’t you ever sneak in here again.”

  “Sneak?” He winced. “I sent a note.”

  They all gaped at him.

  “You idiot!” Iris punched his shoulder. “I didn’t get the note. Some white-haired man gave it to Cora, and it scared us half to death.”

  “I had one of the men I work with deliver it.” He groaned and sat up. “I told him to give it to the pretty lady with black hair.”

  “Well, he forgot that part because he gave it to a four-year-old girl and told her to give it to her mother.”

  Faith’s legs gave out and she sank to her knees. “Patrick, if I had any strength left, I’d wallop you again. You just scared ten years off my life.”

  “Mine too,” Aster said, “and I don’t have any to spare.” She nodded to Iris. “Finish him off.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Iris pinched his arm. “Are you insane?”