by Natalie Dean
Find out more about this heartwarming story of love and loss...
Chapter 1
Lizzie Dixon was cursed.
There was simply no other explanation.
For some strange, inexplicable reason, the world had seen fit to curse her. And, despite her prayers, despite all her attempt to do good, despite her desperation, the curse persisted.
Lizzie first knew this when, months after she married George Dixon, just one month after she had become pregnant with his child, she miscarried.
As further proof of her curse, when she went to the physician after the child in her womb had died, he told her that she could not expect to have any more children at all.
Soon after that, she had lost George to the war. The same war that eventually took her brother-in-law and the closest thing she had left.
Also, her sister-in-law had left as well. After her husband died, Bernadette had sought a new life with another man out West. And, with her departure, the only true friend Lizzie had was gone.
Now, the curse had seen fit to take the last thing she had left.
The curse was taking the boarding house, the business which had been her life’s work for nearly a decade, away from her.
She looked on as the bankers, men in dark suits and bowler hats, casually inspected the home she had built, largely on her own.
They ran their pudgy hands over the stove she’d used to make breakfast for the families staying at her boarding house. Pursed their lips as they picked up the iron tea kettle, worn from overuse.
When Lizzie looked at that little kettle, she couldn’t help but remember the nights she’d stayed up with one of the girls staying in her rooms. She remembered putting that kettle on while some poor war widow or frightened, single young girl cried at the kitchen table, wondering what she was going to do now that she had nowhere to go.
Now, it was Lizzie who silently asked that same question.
She wouldn’t cry.
She had not cried since her husband had died in the war several years before.
There had been many occasions for crying since George had died, of course.
During the war, food became scarce. Increasingly poor, single young women came flocking to her boarding house bringing unimaginable tales of suffering with them.
But, through all these, she did not shed a tear.
Not even when her brother-in-law, Frank, perished in one of the great war’s final battles; not even when she sat on the bed comforting Bernadette, her then pregnant and widowed sister-in-law, did tears form in her eyes.
Sometimes, she wondered if she was even capable of crying anymore.
Perhaps, after George’s death, all her tears simply dried up.
Still, as these well dressed, official men stomped through her boarding house, she realized that this was the first time since her husband’s death that she had been on the verge of tears.
She bit her lip as she followed them through their inspection of the rest of the house. She watched as they examined her furniture, stomped their fancy shoes over her carefully laid wooden floors and talked amongst themselves about the business potential of her home.
Finally, the largest and most blustering of the three men, Mr. Lawrence, stepped forward. He had a clipped gray mustache, a soft, pudgy face and white hands that told Lizzie he had not seen a hard day’s work in his entire life.
“Well, Mrs. Dixon,” he said finally facing Lizzie and straightening himself up importantly. “After inspection of the property, the bank would be willing to buy back your home and forgive your debt. Provided, of course, that you find other accommodations.”
Mr. Lawrence said this as though he was doing Lizzie some great favor. As though the bank would stand to take a loss by buying back the house. Lizzie knew this was far from the case.
“And how long will the bank give me to find other such…accommodations?” Lizzie asked. Trying to keep a sharp, sarcastic tone out of her voice.
Mr. Lawrence looked back at the other men as though asking their approval to speak.
“We would be willing to allow you to continue on at the house for…four to six months,” he said. “After that, we will begin to make other uses for the property.”
Lizzie swallowed hard and, once again, tried as best she could to keep a sharp retort from her lips.
It was difficult. Especially when the men before her looked at her as though she were a burden they would have to bear. As though they were doing her some great favor by allowing her to stay on at all.
Instead of saying what was truly on her mind, Lizzie just nodded.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” she said as gently as she could. “For being so accommodating.”
“It is no trouble at all,” Mr. Lawrence said, sounding more than a bit pleased with his own generosity. “After all, in these troubled times, the bank feels a great sense of responsibility to war widows in particular.”
This time, it took all the effort she possessed not to tell them just what she thought of their brand of care.
Once again, she swallowed her words and put on a smile that she did not feel in her heart at all.
“Well, then, Gentlemen,” she said. “If you’ve finished your inspection, I hope you’ll leave me to make my arrangements.”
“Of course, Ma’am,” Mr. Lawrence said with a bow.
Each of the other two bankers bowed in turn before seeing themselves out the front door, all the while discussing where they might meet for lunch.
As she closed the door, Lizzie found herself half wishing that she could feel as at ease about this arrangement as they seemed to.
As it was, she had no stomach for lunch, even though she had hardly eaten a thing all day.
When the door was closed, she slid against it wondering just what she was meant to do now.
Of course, there was a boarding house not far from the Pennsylvania town in which she now lived. If she gave the owner there a week or two notice, she might secure herself a room there.
But, she knew that would be a temporary solution at best. She had very little money saved and would not be able to afford a room, even at the most modest boarding residence, indefinitely.
Of course, she could take a job at the textile factory just one town over as many girls were now doing.
However, at the age of thirty-three, she was hardly a girl any longer. And, she knew that establishment favored the young.
She had no family left in Pennsylvania to help her. With George and his brother, Frank’s death, all family ties had disappeared.
There was only one thing she could think to do. One person she still had a connection to.
With another deep breath, she moved uneasily from the door to her own large bedroom down the hall.
Sitting at her desk, she pulled out a sheet of parchment and quill.
She had not written to her sister-in-law in several weeks.
This was not out of a lack of affection.
Lizzie and Bernadette had been close ever since Bernadette’s marriage to Frank.
Lizzie’s reluctance to write had more to do with concern for Bernadette. Her sister-in-law had recently had a baby and was settling in with her new husband in Laramie, Wyoming. Lizzie knew that her sister would not wish to be burdened by talk of Lizzie’s troubles.
But, now, she realized she did not have the luxury of worrying about Bernadette’s welfare any longer. Now that the deed of the home had been handed over to the bank, Lizzie was forced to start worrying about her own fate.
So, putting her pen in ink, she began the letter as she always did.
‘My dear little sister…’
Chapter 2
Church was not nearly as peaceful with a baby in tow.
Though the small church on the edge of Laramie, Wyoming was still the one place that Bernadette knew she could truly quiet her thoughts, she had to admit, the squealing and rustling of her daughter by her side was a rather large distraction.
“Now, Amelia,” Bernadett
e said gently to the one-year-old on her lap. “How are you ever going to learn to be a good Christian woman if you cannot sit patiently in Church.”
Amelia looked up at her mother. The child’s eyes lit up, and she gave an infectious giggle which Bernadette could not help but return.
“You are hopeless child,” Bernadette said, her voice still laced with amusement. “Truly hopeless.”
“I would not give up on the babe just yet.”
The voice from the back of the Church made Bernadette jump though she recognized it almost immediately.
“You would be hard-pressed to find a child Amelia’s age who did not get a bit fussy. Even in Church.”
Bernadette turned and smiled gently at Pastor Rhodes who came down the aisle towards her.
“In my mind, I know that Pastor,” Bernadette said. “But, sometimes it is difficult to remember.”
As if to illustrate the point, little Amelia let out another small cry and flailed her arms. Bernadette stood and settled the child on her lap, picking up her satchel as well.
“Please don’t feel the need to leave on my account,” Pastor Rhodes said. “I was only bringing in readings for tomorrow’s sermon.”
He nodded to the papers he held in his hands. As he did, Bernadette couldn’t help but notice the extra gray hairs in his light brown hair.
“Don’t worry, Pastor,” Bernadette said. “You’re not chasing us out. I have to go down to the boarding house to pick up the mail and then home to put Amelia down for a nap.”
“It seems you have a full day ahead of you,” Pastor Rhodes said.
“You as well,” Bernadette answered. The man shrugged and gave a tired smile.
“No more than I can handle,” he said.
Though Bernadette knew better than to argue this point with him, she knew he was not telling the whole truth.
The shadows under his green eyes, as well as the careworn lines along his still pleasant smile, told her that the pastor had been under significant strain.
That was to be expected she supposed. The town was growing at a faster rate than anyone had expected. And the pastor now had a larger flock than he was accustomed to.
Once more, Bernadette wondered why the man did not seek out a wife. A good woman would surely be able to help him in his work. Still, while the population was growing, women willing and able to marry were still scarce in their part of the world.
“Do promise not to work yourself too hard, pastor,” she said.
He gave another tired smile which did not quite meet his eyes.
“I will do my best.”
As Bernadette bid farewell, she stepped out onto the town’s street with a certain reluctance.
Even after having lived in the town for a little over a year, she still felt like a stranger in Laramie.
Now, as she walked out of the church into the sun that felt too bright, she could see people passing by her. Mostly men buying feed for their animals or stopping into the saloon for a drink.
While they politely tipped their hats to her as she passed with her child, she could tell that they saw her as an oddity. A young woman, especially one with a child, was a strange sight in the town of Laramie.
So far as Bernadette could tell, she was the only woman in town with a child Amelia’s age. The few others there were, were either elderly widows like Mrs. Matthews who ran the boarding house or very young daughters of widowed farmers or ranchers.
Besides kind Pastor Rhodes, old Mrs. Matthews and, of course, Bernadette’s husband Matt, there were few people with whom she felt truly at ease.
Perhaps that was the reason she hastened towards the boarding house where their mail came. She did not want to linger in the street too long, and she knew Mrs. Matthews would be beyond happy to see both her and Amelia.
Amelia bounced lightly on Bernadette’s hip as they walked, apparently much happier moving than she was sitting down in a church pew. Before long, Bernadette was making the familiar climb up the steps to the door of Laramie’s lone hotel.
“Oh, Bernadette dear!” Mrs. Matthews cheery voice was heard down the hall before the large woman came into view. “I was wondering when you would stop by!”
Bernadette could now see her clearly. The short, portly woman smiled cheerfully at her pair of visitors and automatically opened her arms wide to take Amelia off Bernadette’s hands. Bernadette found that she was more than happy to comply with Mrs. Matthews silent request.
“Wonderful to see you as well, Mrs. Matthews,” Bernadette said taking Amelia from her hip and placing the child into Mrs. Matthews waiting arms.
Amelia cocked her little head to the side and looked at the older woman as though considering her for the first time. Then Amelia reached out a fat little hand and grasped at Mrs. Matthews nose.
The older woman ducked away from Amelia’s hand laughing.
“I see little Amelia is as curious as ever,” she said happily.
“She’s been taken with noses as of late,” Bernadette said. “Though she seems to discover a different part of the face each day.”
“Well,” Mrs. Matthews said with a small laugh as, this time, Amelia’s hand closed around her target. “She can explore all she wants as far as I’m concerned. It’s the only way she’ll learn. Now, I suppose you’ve come for your mail.”
“Yes,” Bernadette said. “I’m expecting a letter from my sister-in-law. She’s been having…troubles as of late.”
Mrs. Matthews smile faded, and she turned from Amelia to Bernadette.
“Nothing too serious, I hope,” she said.
“Nothing life threatening,” Bernadette said evenly. “But, she is in danger of losing her home and her business.”
“And this is back in Pennsylvania,” Mrs. Matthews said thoughtfully.
“Yes,” Bernadette answered.
Suddenly, Mrs. Matthews face brightened as though she’d just had a brilliant idea.
“Well, then you should tell her to come out here and live with you and Mattathias!” she said. “I know you could use the help on the farm. What with Amelia taking up your time now. And, Lord knows we could use some more good women here.”
Bernadette shook her head with a sad smile.
“I’ve made the suggestion all ready,” Bernadette said. “But Lizzie…she doesn’t like to rely on others for help. She wouldn’t want to leave Pennsylvania unless she could be sure of a house of her own.”
Mrs. Matthews smile faded slightly, but her face remained thoughtful.
“You might talk to Billy,” Mrs. Matthews said. “I’ve got him dusting in the mail room as it is. He might be able to help with your…situation.”
“Billy Porter?” Bernadette asked. “I thought he was still employed on Mr. Miles ranch.”
At the name of Bernadette’s husband’s former employer, Mrs. Matthews gave a derisive snort.
“Miles let the poor boy go a little over a month ago,” she said. “He had nowhere else to go in the area so, I hired him on to help me. But, I know he means for this to be a temporary situation. He has an eye towards the same arrangement you and Mattathias made.”
Bernadette’s eyes widened in understanding.
“You mean he’s looking for a wife?” Bernadette asked a little too hastily.
Mrs. Matthews gave a secret smile.
“Why don’t you go in and discuss it with him yourself, dear?” she said pointing the way towards the mail room down the hall. “I’ll be more than happy to look after Amelia while you do.”
“Thank you,” Bernadette said hastily before making her way down the hall.
When she arrived, she did indeed meet with the short and fairly skinny form of Billy Peters. His longish, light brown hair fell into his brown eyes as he wiped the mail counters down with a rag.
“I must say it is a surprise to see you here, Billy,” she said. The young man jumped, startled and turned towards her.
“Mrs. Jacobs!” he said hastily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
Bernadette nearly laughed at the surprise on the boy’s face. His wide eyes always gave him an expression of slight surprise. But the earnest goodness was clear in the rest of his face.
“It’s I who should apologize, Billy,” she said. “I should know better than to sneak up on a man at work.”
He glanced at the dust rag in his hands, and a slight blush came into his cheeks.
“I suppose you’ll be wanting your mail. Here let me get it for you.”
He turned hastily setting the rag down on the counter. Something in his demeanor spoke of embarrassment. And, Bernadette was almost sure she knew why that was. Still, it would be best to hear it from Billy himself. She had learned long ago that it was best not to make assumptions.
“You should have told Matt that you’d changed employers,” she said as gently as she could. “We would have paid a visit much earlier if we’d known.”
“Truth be told,” he said turning and offering several letters to Bernadette. The pink blush was still in his cheeks, and his eyes remained on the floor. “I didn’t think I would employed at the boarding house long enough to make it widely known. I thought I might be able to get…something else started before long.”
“Are you thinking of starting your own farm?” Bernadette asked gently.
She was surprised but pleased when the blush disappeared from Billy’s cheeks, and his face brightened with a sense of excitement.
“More than a farm,” he said. “There’s plenty of ranch land north of town. And, I’ve nearly saved up enough to put down for a loan with the bank. When I do, I plan to create a cattle ranch to rival Mr. Miles.”
“I’m sure your former employer doesn’t care too much for that idea.”
“He didn’t,” Billy said. “That’s why he kicked me out. But, he can’t do anything to stop me. I’ve even got the land picked out.”
“I suppose you’ll need all the help you can get on a ranch that size,” Bernadette said gently.
“I’ve been working on that too,” Billy said. “Look.”