She didn’t have to suggest it twice. Simon darted away like a startled fawn. She smiled and watched him weave his way through the mass of people. Alice stayed by Marty’s side, uncertain of what she should do. Her scar made her feel quite self-conscious as she noted several people seeming to study her face.
“When is the birthday party, Mrs. Wythe?” a young woman asked Marty. “I thought it was gonna be right after the roundup.”
“We had to postpone it a week, but it’ll be next Friday evening,” she assured her. “Have you met Miss Chesterfield, Miriam?”
The young woman shook her head. She was a pretty redhead with a simple taste in her fashion. She looked to be Alice’s age.
“Miriam, this is my dear friend Alice Chesterfield. Alice, this is Miriam Palmer. She’s the daughter of Mr. Palmer, who participated in the roundup with his sons. Miriam remained at home to help her mother.”
“She’d just given birth to my little sister,” Miriam announced proudly. “I liked to thought we’d never get us another girl after five boys.”
Alice smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you.”
“What did your folks name the little one?” Marty asked.
“Edith,” Miriam replied. She returned her gaze to Marty. “After my grandmother.”
“It’s a good name.” Marty put her hand to her growing waistline. “We haven’t yet thought up names for our baby. Hopefully by the time he or she arrives, we will have sorted it out.”
Alice couldn’t help but smile. Marty was finally starting to act and think like this pregnancy was something she could carry through to completion. It did Alice’s heart good to see her friend brighten at discussions of the baby and plans for the future.
Jake joined them just then. “Will said he needed to help the preacher with something, so we’ll be a little delayed in returning home. You feeling all right?”
“I’m fine,” Marty said. She smiled at her husband as he put his hand on her arm.
Alice excused herself. “I’m going to go look for Simon.”
She exited the church and exchanged greetings with various people, keeping her head down to avoid their stares. She walked along the front of the church and spied Simon, now jacket free, playing with a couple of the other boys. He seemed content and so she continued her walk toward the cemetery yard.
Reflecting on the pastor’s words, Alice strolled among the headstones and thought of her father. How could he have done the things her mother said he’d done? How could he have put Alice in such a precarious position? If what her mother said was true, then he was as much to blame for the attack as the men who carried it out. If the company he kept was corrupt and evil, how could he expect their actions to be otherwise?
She frowned and touched one of the more ornate marble statues. The angel form seemed to glare at her in disapproval. Alice quickly pulled her hand away and looked heavenward.
Why? Why is this happening, Lord? I don’t know what to think or to do. I want to be a peacemaker, but I don’t understand what that means. Do I just forget that my mother left me? Do I accept that my father was truly evil?
Alice couldn’t help but remember the nights she had cried herself to sleep, wishing and praying that her mother and brother would come home. When Papa told her of their deaths a year after their departure, Alice wanted to die, as well. She had been so certain they would return. Father had been very angry about her concerns for them, and at the time Alice thought it was because of her nagging. Now she wondered if it was for the very reasons Mother had stated.
Alice continued to walk amongst the dead and ponder the living. There had to be answers if she was just brave enough to find them.
———
“You look awfully deep in thought,” Robert said, coming upon Alice in the graveyard.
She seemed not to mind his interruption. “I was contemplating.”
“Would you care to share what you were thinking about?”
Alice shrugged. “My life. My father’s death. My mother and brother being alive. I suppose the quiet of the place led me to such reflections.”
He nodded. “I’ve always liked cemeteries myself. They are, as you say, quiet and good for thinking. I can leave you alone if you’d like.”
“That isn’t necessary.” She gave him a brief smile and glanced all around the yard. “Did you know most of these people?”
“Most,” he admitted and came closer to where she stood. “Some not so much as others. Why?”
“I don’t know. I suppose because I’ve always wanted to feel connected, a part of something or someone. My family was torn apart when I was thirteen, and my father kept to himself. He insisted I do the same.”
“Didn’t you have friends?”
“At school I had a couple of friends, but because of my mother’s desertion, I quit school after eighth grade. Most figured that to be an adequate education for a young woman, but I wanted more.”
“I think times are changing,” Robert said. “Used to be most children ended their education about that time. Boys were needed to help with the work, and girls married or helped their mothers. These days I know there’s more of a push to get a full education. I don’t mind at all that my folks insisted I stay in school. I went away to college for a year, but found it wasn’t for me.” He smiled. “My heart is out there on the range, not in a classroom.”
“I can understand that. It’s beautiful here.” She turned to walk away and stumbled.
Robert reached out and caught her before she could fall. To his complete frustration that was the moment Jessica Atherton chose to appear.
“Robert Barnett, I’ve been looking for you.” She eyed him with a raised brow and then turned her attention to Alice. “Miss Chesterfield.” Her look was one of contempt.
“I should get back to Simon,” Alice said in a most uncomfortable manner. She pulled away from Robert’s hold and hurried past Jessica.
Robert waited for whatever assault Jessica might release. She looked madder than a wet cat, and he knew she could be twice as dangerous.
“What are you doing with her? All throughout church I saw you watching her.”
“Jess, you need to calm down. Alice and I have become good friends.”
“We used to be good friends, but now you avoid me like I should be in quarantine. What is it that’s happened between us?” She came to stand directly in front of him, blocking his way to leave.
“Jess, I’ve told you before, we are friends. You’re like a little sister to me. I’d do whatever I could to help you or protect you. You mean the world to me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then stay away from Miss Chesterfield. I know you feel sorry for her, but you belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” Robert countered, “save God. I keep tellin’ folks that, but nobody seems to believe me. Furthermore, Alice is staying at our ranch. I can’t ignore her or stay away from her any more than I can my folks. Nor do I want to.”
“She’s an unsightly woman with troubles brewing. I know, because I heard Mama talking to Marty about it just a few minutes ago. Marty said that Alice has had trouble most of her life and now with her mother and brother here, things might even get worse.”
“Then I want to be here for her.”
“You need to be here for me,” Jessica said, sounding childish. She stamped her foot. “We were doing just fine until she came here. Now everywhere I go, folks are talking about her. It’s Alice this and Miss Chesterfield that. I’m sick of it. You’ve always cared about broken things, but that damaged woman doesn’t need to be one of your projects, Robert Barnett!”
“I never knew you to be so heartless and meanspirited.” He pushed her aside gently and left her to contemplate her words. It was all he could do to keep from slapping her for what she’d said. He didn’t like anyone talking mean about someone he loved—especially not this time.
Back on the ranch, Alice quietly changed from her Sunday clothes and put on a simple cotton blouse and skirt.
She and Marty had rid themselves of most of their surplus clothing and now maintained only a few pieces. It sometimes amazed Alice that she had come full circle from a time of well-being with her father to poverty after his death, then to wealth and opulence at the Wythe mansion and finally to this. Life had a way of changing the scenery without a person even realizing what was happening.
A light rap at the door grew her attention. “Come in.”
Hannah Barnett opened the door. “I hoped to find you here. May I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course. What is it?”
“It’s about your mother.”
“Is she worse? Do we need a doctor?”
“No. I think her condition is mostly one of the heart.”
Alice felt herself stiffen. “Why do you say that?”
Hannah sat on the bed and patted the pretty quilt that covered it. “Come sit with me for a minute.”
Alice did as instructed but already felt more than a little guarded.
Hannah quickly got to the heart of the matter. “Your mother is discouraged and downtrodden over all that has happened between you two. She wants so much to renew her relationship with you.”
“I know, but she said so many things that I just don’t understand.”
Hannah took Alice’s hand in her own. “I know you’re hurt and maybe even afraid. Afraid that if you believe your mother, you are somehow betraying your father. Alice, your father is dead. You can’t help or hurt him anymore, but you can do both to your mother. She needs you to forgive her. . . . Otherwise . . .”
“Otherwise what?” Alice asked.
“Otherwise, I’m not sure that she’ll ever forgive herself.”
“So it’s my responsibility to make her feel better for her mistakes?” Alice asked in a snide voice. She immediately hated herself for having those feelings. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t kind. But sometimes I feel so frustrated by it all. I was a child. I was deserted by the one person I thought would never leave me. I trusted her to always be there.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I needed her, and she left me to face life all alone.”
Hannah pulled Alice into her arms and hugged her close. “She didn’t want to. She loved you. She loves you now. Yes, she hurt you and she made a terrible mistake in leaving you. But your father made mistakes, too, and you will, as well. We all make bad choices—decisions that would better be left to rot in the bottom of the barrel. But we can’t undo them. We can only move forward.”
“I want to,” Alice said, trying to regain control. Hannah’s warm embrace was like that of a comforting mother, and Alice couldn’t help but remember the way she and her mother had held each other at the train station. “I love her so much.”
“Then tell her. Tell her that you love her and forgive her. She needs to hear it from you, and Alice, you need to hear it, as well.” Hannah let her go and got to her feet. “I’m gonna get the noon meal on the table. Why don’t you go spend some time with your mother? I had the men bring her here so I could keep an eye on her. She’s in the room at the end of the hall. I’ll bring you two a tray to share.”
Alice nodded. She wasn’t sure how things would go with her mother, but it was worth a try. Escaping the past was one of the reasons she’d come to Texas with Marty. There was no sense in letting part of it go and not all.
She made her way to the bedroom. Mama was resting on the bed, but her eyes were open and she gave the slightest smile as Alice entered the room.
“I was hoping I might see you today.”
Alice pulled up a chair close to the small bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t come before church.”
“That’s all right.”
Mother looked so small and helpless. Even though the bed was narrow, it seemed to swallow her up. Alice drew a deep breath to steady herself and prayed for strength.
“You look tired,” her mother said.
“I was worried about you,” Alice admitted.
Her mother seemed surprised by this confession. “You don’t need to. I’m just weary.”
“I probably added to that weariness.” Alice stared at her hands and folded them in her lap. “Mama, I’m sorry that things weren’t good between you and Papa. I didn’t know. I thought that was just the way husbands and wives treated each other. I had no way of knowing otherwise. We didn’t socialize, so I didn’t have other families to learn from.”
“I know,” her mother said in a barely audible voice. “I’m so sorry that you didn’t have those people in your life. Given your father’s choices, we stayed mostly to ourselves to avoid problems. I always wanted better for you and Simon.”
“I think I know that,” Alice admitted, “but you have to know how much it hurt when you went away. I thought . . . I thought it was my fault.”
“Oh, Alice, no. It was never your fault.” Her mother reached out to touch Alice’s knee. “Children are never to blame for the mistakes of their parents. I kept hoping that things could be different, hoping that your father would accept Simon and realize I had never betrayed him. I kept hoping . . . until my hope was all used up.”
Alice nodded. “I know how that feels. I kept hoping you and Simon would come home, and when Papa told me you were dead, my hope was used up, too.”
“I’m so very sorry, Alice. Please know that I always loved you, and I love you still. Please forgive me for not being a better mother.”
Something inside Alice yielded to the sincerity in her mother’s voice. She reached out and took hold of her mother’s hand. “I forgive you. I love you, Mama.” Her voice broke and despite her resolve, Alice buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
She felt her mother’s engulfing arms. Mama sat up to take hold of her, and Alice had never been happier. She held tightly to her mother’s small frame. It was a moment in time that Alice longed to hold on to forever. After a long while, Alice straightened and met her mother’s tear-filled eyes.
“I want to know more.” She hesitated. “I want to know what was in the box Mrs. Ingram sent you. I want to know more . . . about Papa.”
Her mother smiled. “And I want to tell you.” She motioned to a bag beside the bed. “I brought most of what she sent. I thought you might want to see it. I also brought your father’s letters to me.” She licked her lips, and Alice could see that they were dry.
“Would you like a drink?” Alice reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. She wanted more than anything to see the letters and the other things in the bag, but they could wait. Alice handed her mother the glass and waited for her to drink. Once done, Alice returned the water to the table and picked up the bag.
“Is this the bag you were talking about?” Alice asked, knowing it was but suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
“Yes. Everything is in there. I want you to have it.”
For a moment Alice only looked at the small cloth bag. She wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry for being so upset when you tried to talk to me,” Alice began. “It was wrong of me.”
“You were hurt—you still are. I can see that in your eyes, and I wish I could take it from you. The scar you bear on your face is only one of many that you have from the past. Deep within you are many reminders.”
Alice met her mother’s sad eyes and nodded. “It’s . . . it’s just so hard to think of Papa the way you described. I don’t want to think badly of him.”
“Then don’t. He was a good father in many ways to you. No one can take that from you.”
“But he wasn’t good to Simon? Or to you?”
Her mother shook her head. “Not at the end. There was a time when I was very happy with him despite his jealous rages. I felt cared for and safe. As the years went by and his suspicions grew, however, it was no longer the same. I felt as if I were in a prison, locked and guarded in my cell. I could have endured that if not for the way he treated Simon.”
“Why did you choose to go when you did?”
“Simon had started asking questions, and he didn’t understand some of the painf
ul things he heard your father and me say to each other. Remember, you were at school during the day, and Simon was home with me. With your father’s growing suspicions that I was being unfaithful, he had taken to coming home without warning. I think he figured to catch me with some lover.”
Alice frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Your father was often harsh with Simon. Your brother tried so hard to win his affection, and George would have no part of it. He even started hitting the boy—not for the purpose of correction but out of his hatred.”
“That’s the part I find so hard to believe.”
“You can ask Simon if you’d like. He remembers it well. He still holds his own sorrow for the fact that his father never loved him.”
“Just like I bore the sorrow thinking you didn’t love me.” Alice bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
“But I always loved you, Alice. Always. If you read through those letters, I think you’ll see the truth for yourself. It will be painful, but I want you to know the truth.”
Alice looked at the bag and nodded. “I’ll read them.” And even as she said the words, Alice knew the letters would forever change everything. Without reading a single one, she knew that the things her mother had spoken were no doubt true.
Chapter 19
“Did you speak with the doctor?” Hannah asked Marty. She had just finished washing the breakfast dishes while Marty gathered the ingredients to bake bread.
Marty nodded and placed a canister of flour near a large mixing bowl. “He’s the same old doctor he’s always been—full of admonitions and cautionary tales.”
“He’s much too old, and his medicine is outdated,” Hannah replied. “You’d do best to rely on me. I don’t say that as a matter of pride, but I know how obsolete some of his philosophies can be.”
“It would be nice to have a younger doctor come to the community.” Marty remembered something her husband had said. “You know, Jake has good friends in the Lufkin area—a married couple and both are doctors.”
Moment in Time, A (Lone Star Brides Book #2) Page 18