Brides of Iowa

by Stevens, Connie;

  “I suspect this woman is—”

  “Her name is Pearl.” The muscles in Hubert’s neck tensed, but he forced his tone to remain even. “When you speak to her or refer to her, please do so respectfully.”

  Everett’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t retort. Instead, he appeared to take a deep breath—whether to sigh in resignation or calm himself, Hubert couldn’t tell.

  “All right, I will be respectful. But Father, I can’t help but feel you are marrying beneath you. Mrs. Dunnigan likely doesn’t make a great deal of money running a boardinghouse for people who can’t afford a home of their own.” He paused before making his point. “Have you considered that she might be seeking a marriage of comfort and position?”

  The tightness in Hubert’s neck extended to his jaw muscles. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. Allowing his temper to erupt would not only destroy the fragile relationship between him and Everett, it would also negate any chance to speak of his faith with his son. He certainly didn’t want to start out by setting parameters, but he couldn’t allow Everett to voice such speculations about Pearl. Distress burned in his chest. Unless Everett changed his attitude, the possibility loomed of having to make a choice between his son and the woman he loved.

  He pulled in a deep breath and gentled his response. “Everett, I can’t describe how happy I am that you have come to visit.” It wasn’t a lie. He was both overjoyed and alarmed. “I’ve prayed for years that the wrongs of the past could be made right between us, that you might forgive me for the mistakes I made when you were a child, and we might begin to enjoy being father and son.” He nailed Everett with an unblinking stare. “But this you must understand: I love Pearl, and she loves me. What we share is a gift given by God. We both feel God is blessing our plans for marriage.” He took another steadying breath as the knot in his stomach tightened. “Son, I cannot tolerate derogatory statements about Pearl’s character. She is going to be my wife.”

  Thick uneasiness pervaded the space between them, and for a minute Hubert was afraid Everett might go and purchase a ticket for the next eastbound stage.

  Finally, Everett gave a slight nod. “As you wish, Father. I was merely wondering if Mrs. Dunnigan was an appropriate match for my father, but it seems you have already made up your mind. As I recall, once you set yourself to do something, there is nothing that can sway you.”

  Hubert realized Everett’s statement had little to do with his plans to marry Pearl. He dropped his gaze to his teacup. The remaining beverage in the cup was now cold, much like Everett’s words.

  “Son, if I could live my life over, there are a lot of things I’d do differently.” He shifted his jaw back and forth, despising the admission of guilt he knew he needed to offer to Everett, and asking God for the grace to do so. “In hindsight, I can now see that taking cases that kept me on the road for weeks, and sometimes months, was not the choice I should have made. My place was at home with you and your mother. Perhaps…perhaps if I’d allowed God’s wisdom instead of my ambition to drive me, you might not have grown up without your parents.”

  Silence as oppressive as the July heat filled the room and hung there like an impenetrable fog. Voicing the admission of guilt put him in a vulnerable position. He wasn’t saying anything Everett didn’t already know, but the words had to pass between them before a bridge could be built. He blew out a pent-up breath and continued.

  “Your grandparents were good people and even though they gave you a fine home, I regret leaving you there for them to raise. I should have been the one to influence and teach you as you grew. I’m asking you to forgive me for not being the father I should have been.”

  Everett’s gaze remained lowered, but he blinked several times. “We both have regrets, Father. Mine is that I allowed Grandmother to poison my mind against you.”

  Hubert shook his head. “You were only a child. If I’d been a better husband and father, you wouldn’t have grown up in your grandparents’ house.” There were other regrets, but none that he felt comfortable sharing with his son, especially not on the first day of his visit.

  Everett stifled a yawn behind his hand. “I’m rather tired. If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll lie down for a while.” He rose and went to his room, leaving Hubert alone with his tangled thoughts. Ironic how he was able to give voice to the remorse he felt over his past mistakes, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit down with Pearl and tell her the same thing. So many what-ifs and if onlys.

  “If only…” He closed his eyes and rested his head against the leather back of the chair. The fact that Everett hadn’t responded to his plea for forgiveness wasn’t lost on Hubert. How strange that God was so quick to forgive him, but his son withheld that which God gave freely. He gave a huff of resignation. He couldn’t condemn Everett for his lack of forgiveness. After all, despite God’s outpouring of pardon the moment he’d asked, he had yet to forgive himself.

  “I’d never forgive myself if I came between Hubert and his son.” Pearl punched her fist into the soft blob of bread dough on the kitchen worktable.

  Tessa set her coffee mug down with a thunk. “That’s ridiculous. Why would you think something like that?”

  Pearl’s shoulders drooped with a sigh. “It’s clear Everett doesn’t like me. I felt like an interloper sitting at lunch with them. If I could have thought of a clever way to excuse myself, I’d have left them alone, but I suppose I was just so stunned…” She left the thought unfinished and returned her energy to kneading the dough.

  “Stunned?” Tessa dipped her head and tilted it at an angle so Pearl couldn’t help catching her wide-eyed look.

  She wished she could simply shrug off the angst that sent a chill through her every time the expression on Everett’s face came to mind. The memory of his disdain sent darts of foreboding through her.

  “I suppose I don’t measure up to Everett’s expectations.” She separated the dough into four equal portions and placed each one in a pan. After lining the pans up on the warming shelf above the stove, she turned and wiped her hands on her apron. “I don’t think Everett approves of his father marrying me.”

  A frown pinched Tessa’s brow. “Why not?”

  Pearl sat opposite her friend. With her elbows on the table, she clasped her hands and rested her chin on her closed fingers. “I’m not sure, but I think he feels I’m not good enough for Hubert.”

  An explosion of air sputtered from Tessa’s lips. “He obviously doesn’t know you. You and Hubert are a perfect match. Neither one of you would be complete without the other.” The young woman pressed her palms down on the table. “What did Hubert tell him?”

  Pearl forced a tight smile and shrugged. “Hubert stopped by this morning for coffee on his way to the mercantile, like he always does. He told me that he and Everett talked some yesterday afternoon.” She rose and checked the heat in the oven. “He seems to think Everett will come around.” She added a couple more pieces of split stove wood to the firebox.

  “Meanwhile…” Pearl placed her hands on her hips as she turned back to Tessa. “I suppose I’ll just see what God has in store. I don’t know what else to do.” She returned to her chair and reached across the table to wrap her fingers around those of the young woman who was as dear to her as a daughter. “Mercy sakes, I don’t know what to do, Tessa. What if Everett is so set against me being his father’s wife that he talks Hubert into breaking our engagement?” Tightness in her throat caused her words to come out in a croak.

  Moisture glinted in Tessa’s eyes, and she covered Pearl’s hands with hers. “I seem to remember a time when I asked you questions along the same line. I was so confused about my feelings for Gideon. The idea of being in love with a man scared me to death. So I came and talked it over with the wisest woman I know.” She gave Pearl’s fingers a tug. “And you know what she told me?”

  Pearl blinked a tear away. “Now I suppose you’re going to feed me my own words?”

  A grin tipped Tessa’s lips. “The advice
you gave me was to seek God and ask Him to guide me.”

  Pearl pulled back one hand and rubbed her forehead. “Tessa, I feel like I’m riding both sides of the seesaw in the schoolyard. Not only am I afraid Everett might insist his father break the engagement, there is another side to this.” Needle pricks of agitation stung the back of her neck, and she couldn’t remain seated. Leaving her chair, she paced to the window and stared out through the red gingham-checked curtains to the hollyhocks in the backyard.

  She swallowed hard. “Of course I’ll seek God’s guidance. But I can’t come between Hubert and his son. I can’t. Hubert has prayed for this reunion for so long.”

  Behind her, she heard chair legs scrape the floor and Tessa’s soft footsteps closing the distance between them. Her friend’s arms slipped around her shoulders, and her soft voice nudged Pearl to face the question she’d been avoiding.

  “What does your heart tell you?”

  Chapter 6

  So I got to thinking…” Pearl tilted her head to one side, seeking Hubert’s approval of her plan. “Perhaps if the two of you came to the boardinghouse for dinner tomorrow night, we could get better acquainted.”

  After turning the situation over in her mind for three days, Pearl had risen much earlier than normal and spent time asking God to reveal His will to her. By the time she’d put breakfast on the table for her boarders, the Old Testament scripture in Isaiah echoed through her mind: “Come now, and let us reason together.…” Sitting down together over dinner simply made sense. She’d spent many years serving people at her table and found most folks more amiable after a satisfying meal. She’d impatiently watched for Hubert to stick his head in the back door, as was his habit every morning.

  Now her heart fluttered as a tender expression softened Hubert’s eyes and a smile creased his face. “Ah, Pearl my love, you always know the right thing to do. That’s a splendid idea.”

  Pearl glanced beyond his shoulder to see if any of the boarders heard his expression of endearment.

  He drained his coffee cup and carried it to the dishpan, then paused, a twinkle in his eye. “Might I talk you into making your special pot roast?”

  Delight skittered up Pearl’s spine. “Pot roast it is.” Hope swelled in her chest. “Do you really think Everett will be receptive to the idea?”

  Hubert retrieved his hat from the peg by the door. “I’ll talk to him about it when I see him this evening.” He caught her hand and brushed a soft kiss across her fingers. “Once he gets to know you, I’m sure he’ll understand why I fell in love with you. Dining together is a perfect way to start.”

  She gave Hubert’s fingers a gentle tug. “Hubert, I’m so happy that he has come all this way to attend the wedding.”

  A brief shadow flicked across Hubert’s face. Everett’s arrival revealed a strain she’d not seen before in Hubert’s eyes. No doubt he couldn’t help but be anxious over their reunion. She prayed her dinner plans would help ease the tension.

  “I’m happy he’s here as well.” A tiny twitch of the space between his brows, however, pricked Pearl with wonder. She wasn’t accustomed to seeing him nervous about anything. His uneasiness underscored how important this reconciliation was to him. Her determination to see Hubert happy doubled.

  Hubert departed for the mercantile and Pearl began cleaning the kitchen, but her mind wasn’t on her task. Everything about this dinner had to be perfect, from the main course to the dessert. But one thing niggled at her. How could Everett and Hubert feel relaxed and converse freely with four boarders sitting at the table scrutinizing them?

  “That will never do,” she muttered to herself as she plunged dishes into the hot soapy water and pondered how to create a comfortable atmosphere. Vexation rubbed a raw spot on her heart, and she remembered Tessa’s encouragement to seek God. “Father, I know this idea came from You. So You’re going to have to help me with the planning.”

  The menu was easy; she’d make all Hubert’s favorites, starting with the pot roast.

  When she turned to wipe the worn kitchen worktable, she halted. Glancing around the cheerful kitchen, an idea began to take shape.

  Pearl smoothed her best tablecloth over the kitchen worktable, concealing the scarred surface. A bouquet of summer flowers in a glass vase adorned the center of the table while the tantalizing aroma of roasting beef and vegetables filled the room. Two plump, golden-crusted apple pies sat on the warming shelf of the stove. She was grateful her understanding boarders didn’t mind her not sitting with them in the dining room tonight, and she’d spent the day fussing to make the intimate confines of the kitchen as festive and inviting as possible.

  She tapped her chin with one finger as she studied the table. Would candles be too formal? The kerosene lamp that hung over the table, along with the two wall lamps, would afford enough light, but candles might lend an air of graciousness. She scurried to the breakfront in the dining room to fetch the candlesticks that had belonged to her mother.

  After polishing the candlesticks to make them sparkle, she arranged them on the table and stepped back to inspect the finished layout. She was pleased with the result of her efforts, but hers wasn’t the opinion that counted. Another prayer winged heavenward from her lips for a successful evening.

  She glanced at the clock and hurried to her room to change her dress. Hubert and Everett were due to arrive in a half hour, and she wanted to serve her boarders first so she’d be free to sit and enjoy the evening. A pinch of apprehension caused her heart to skip.

  Her hands shook as she unpinned and rearranged her hair. “Oh, mercy sakes, Pearl, stop behaving like a silly goose.” She berated her image in the oval mirror. The memory of getting ready for her first dinner with Hubert tiptoed through her mind, and she smiled at the fond recollection. The upturn of her lips faded into a rueful grimace as a thought settled into the pit of her stomach. This was different. Her anticipation of the coming evening wasn’t filled with schoolgirl flutters but rather a sense of foreboding.

  She scurried to put the boarders’ dinner on the dining room table. Pearl left them to ask the blessing and pass the food around while she returned to the kitchen to recheck every detail.

  The roast was ready, and butter swam in the indentations of the potatoes mounded in Pearl’s favorite china bowl. Glazed carrots and fresh green beans sat on the warming shelf above the stove. She peeked into the oven at the rolls. A rap at the front door made her catch her breath. She smoothed her skirt and touched her hair as she bustled to open the door.

  “Good evening, Hubert, Everett. Please come in.” She stepped aside to allow the two men to enter. Hubert gave her a stealthy wink and she smiled in return. But when she turned to welcome Everett and take his hat, his contemptuous frown seared her tattered shreds of hope.

  “I–I’m so g–glad you could come, Everett.”

  “The pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure.” Everett’s sweeping gaze took in the entry hall and the doorway that led to the dining room where the voices of the boarders and clinking of silverware on china indicated dinner was already underway. He took a step in that direction, but Pearl spoke up quickly.

  “Hubert, I thought it would be nice if we’d have this time to ourselves.” She sent him a pleading look to beg for his support. “So I set up the kitchen table for us. We can have our dinner and talk in privacy there.”

  Hubert slipped her arm through the crook of his elbow. “A fine idea, my dear. And dinner smells wonderful, doesn’t it, son?”

  Pearl nearly wilted in relief at Hubert’s encouraging agreement, but when Everett stopped and turned to look over his shoulder at her, his scathing glare left no doubt as to his opinion, even before he opened his mouth.

  “We’re eating in the kitchen?” The young man pulled his stare away from Pearl and flung it at his father.

  Pearl’s feet felt nailed to the floor, but thankfully Hubert didn’t miss a beat. “The kitchen is fine, and I’ve brought my appetite. Is that your special pot roast I smell?” He s
tarted down the hall toward the kitchen with Pearl on his arm, bypassing the dining room.

  She almost reminded him that he’d requested pot roast, but realized he was covering her nervousness by making the observation. “Yes, I knew it was your favorite. Just let me take the rolls out of the oven and we can sit down.” She busied herself setting brimming bowls and the meat platter on the table, along with the rolls, browned to perfection.

  “Why, it looks like a banquet hall in here,” Hubert said as he held her chair. She placed a small bowl of butter next to the basket of rolls and sat across the table from Everett, thanking Hubert for his gentlemanly gesture. Too late, she realized her position would require her to look directly at Everett throughout the meal.

  Hubert sat and offered the prayer while Pearl squeezed her hands together in her lap. She could feel Everett’s cold stare, even with her head bowed. When Hubert said amen, she passed the sliced roast to him and the rolls to Everett.

  “This looks magnificent, my dear.” Hubert forked a generous portion of tender beef onto his plate and passed the platter to his son. “Everett, tell us about the new piers and shipping interests being built along the Patapsco River and Baltimore Harbor. Some of these enterprises will greatly boost the economy. Isn’t that what you said, son?”

  Pearl passed the bowl of carrots to Everett, who ignored the offering. When Everett didn’t reply to his father, she glanced at Hubert, while still holding the bowl in limbo. The young man’s demeanor didn’t seem any friendlier this evening, and he couldn’t use travel fatigue as an excuse. She set the carrots down.

  “Sounds fascinating.” She lied, desperate to encourage conversation on any topic.

  An indifferent sniff came from Everett’s side of the table. “Really, Father, I doubt Mrs. Dunnigan would care about Baltimore’s commerce.” A disdainful frown punctuated his features.