Hope In Cripple Creek

by Sara R. Turnquist

  * * *

  “Reverend!” Mrs. Abby said as she approached the table where Katherine and Timothy seated themselves in the café. “So good to see you! We don’t see enough of you around here,” she admonished him. “You know you can stop in any time you’re hankering for some home cooking.”

  Katherine glanced between Mrs. Abby and Timothy. The woman’s concern over him was almost motherly. Didn’t his mother live just two miles outside of town?

  “Yes, you’ve been so gracious as to extended that offer on many occasions. Don’t I take you up on it enough?” Timothy gave her a broad smile. Did he enjoy this kind of attention? It was difficult to discern.

  “No, not nearly enough.” Mrs. Abby put a hand on her full hip and held a coffee pot in the air.

  “Well then, I shall do my best to remedy that.” Timothy interlaced his fingers in front of himself and drew his attention back to Katherine.

  She offered him a simple smile, only somewhat amused by the interchange.

  “I can’t help but wonder about the Valentine’s Dance in a couple weeks. Will you be going?” Mrs. Abby looked between the two of them.

  Katherine’s face warmed under her scrutiny. Timothy had not yet asked her.

  “Oh,” Mrs. Abby said, putting a hand to her mouth. “I see.”

  Chancing a glance at Timothy, Katherine saw that he smiled at her. Perhaps he intended to ask her at this meal.

  “I guess I need to learn to keep my big mouth closed.” Mrs. Abby smiled as she wiped a hand on her apron.

  That would be nice.

  “Now, let’s talk about what you’re here for. Lunch. Any thoughts?”

  “I think we both want the meatloaf.” Timothy glanced at Katherine.

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Two meatloaves coming up,” Mrs. Abby called out louder than was necessary. Giving them another meaningful glance, she turned and moved on to the next table.

  As she walked away, a brief silence fell between them. Katherine’s mind filled with the things that lay before her to say. She worked the edge of her napkin with her fingers. And she hoped Timothy wouldn’t see her nervousness. Or perhaps mistake it for something connected to the Valentine’s Dance exchange.

  She broke the silence. “I enjoyed your sermon Sunday.”

  “Oh?” He leaned forward on his elbows. “What was it you liked?”

  “I had never thought about the parable of the prodigal son that way. You know, from the point of view of the older brother. And the fact he was separated as well by his own pride.”

  “Ah. Yes, it was a new twist for me as well. All week, it seemed God was leading me to tackle this particular passage. But I thought ‘everyone has heard this story a million times.’ So, I knew I had to approach it from a different angle. The more I thought and prayed about it, the more God opened my eyes to the plight of the older son.”

  Katherine nodded. How could she admit she felt as if part of her was the elder brother and part of her was the prodigal when it came to her relationship with God? Some days she was a rebellious child, struggling to trust, and other days, she was reconciled to God, but caught up in her pride and self-righteousness.

  “You’ve been rather quiet today.” Timothy lowered his voice.

  Katherine shook her head, not ready to push farther yet. “Just thinking about some of the points you made in the sermon. I haven’t stopped mulling over it.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?” His eyes softened. And though he spoke as a minister, his gaze was that of a man looking at a woman. Not altogether innocent.

  “Not just yet. I’d like to get a handle on my own thoughts first.” She hoped that would satisfy him on the subject.

  He nodded, pressing her no further.

  Mrs. Abby came by and set their plates in front of them, beaming. “Enjoy!”

  They nodded their thanks.

  “Shall I bless our meal?” Timothy’s brown eyes met hers again. They calmed her.

  “Yes, thank you.” She found it difficult to tear her eyes away from Timothy’s and bow her head, but she did so.

  Timothy returned a quick blessing, praying over their meal and their conversation. And he even remembered Charlotte’s children in his prayer. Katherine had to fight back a sniffle at his thoughtfulness.

  Once he closed the prayer, she took a moment before looking up, gathering her emotions. Her mission remembered, her hands began to shake. She caught them in her lap to still them, but she still shook inside. Why was she so nervous? It was the right thing to do. Timothy was so kind, so caring, a godly man. And he cared for her.

  Lifting her head, she watched him pick up his fork and turn his plate clockwise to better access his meatloaf. She was comfortable with him. It would be wise to not take that for granted.

  “Have you found anyone else willing to take the Peterson orphans?” he said before taking his first bite.

  “No.” Katherine played with the food on her plate. “It’s only been a couple of days, though.”

  “I promised you a week. But that’s all I can give you. I can’t keep Mr. and Mrs. Jones waiting forever.” Timothy’s voice was gentle, but serious.

  “I know,” she said, moving her meatloaf over with her fork. This was the best opening she would get. “If only there was a perfect, newly married young couple who were willing to take on those precious children.”

  “If only,” he agreed, taking another bite of his meatloaf.

  She set down her fork and looked across the table at him. Her eyes searching for his. “Maybe there could be,” she started.

  “I thought you said you hadn’t found anyone else.” One of his eyebrows went up.

  Reaching for her water glass, she then ran a finger along the rim. Why was this so hard? “I haven’t. Not exactly. The thing is, perhaps it’s a couple that would be just married.”

  Now his brows became furrowed, creasing his forehead. “I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

  Katherine cleared her throat. Where was her courage? She needed it now. Her eyes were on his again as she summoned every ounce of determination within herself. “What if we were to marry?”

  Timothy all but choked on his food.

  She rose from her chair to assist him.

  He held up his hand to stop her as he got control of himself.

  Not the reaction she hoped for. Should she explain? “I apologize for being so forward, but we could make a good home for those children.”

  Having recovered himself, he took a gulp of his water. Once he set the cup down, he stared at her, but did not speak. His silence tortured her.

  “Timothy, say something,” she pleaded.

  “I don’t know what to say, Katie,” he said with a gentle tone. “I’m surprised.”

  He was quiet for a few moments, still staring at her.

  Katherine prayed his answer would be “yes.” Marrying Timothy would give her a way out of having to accept Wyatt. An out she needed so desperately. Wyatt’s offer had started making sense to her.

  After some moments, Timothy reached across the table, holding his hand open.

  She slid her trembling hand into his larger one and prepared herself for his answer.

  “I am flattered, Katie. And I do care for you. So much. But I don’t think we are ready yet. If we got married just for the sake of those children, noble as it would be, it would be wrong.”

  Her shoulders slumped as everything in her body seemed to drop. His rejection was delivered in his kind, caring way and, even though her heart wasn’t truly in her proposal, it still stung. Sad and dejected, she wanted to run from him. But a part of her sparked, indignant at his refusal.

  “What do you mean? Those children deserve every good thing. They deserve a good solid home with people who will love them. How can it be wrong to want to provide that?” She tried to pull her hand away.

  He covered it with his other hand. “It’s not wrong to want to give them that, Katie. It’s admirable. But
your thinking is not clear right now. Marriage is a big step between two people. Many things must anchor those people to each other for a marriage to hope to be successful. Not just the rather noble, yes, but quite temporary circumstances of two children.”

  She looked away. Something in her knew he was right. An image of Jack, being put to work on a farm as soon as he was old enough to hold a shovel, appeared in her mind. It made her feel sick. And what if Susie, being shipped away to Denver, never saw or even knew of her brother again?

  What if Katherine had never known David? Or had they been split up? She couldn’t imagine it. Her life would be incomplete. Torn from her family, her brother, never to feel secure in anything. It would be almost like it was when she lost Ellie Mae. Grief washed over her anew.

  Perhaps that was why she could not let this go. Katherine understood what it was to lose someone and she would do anything to prevent these two small children from experiencing any further loss. The only way they could recover being orphaned would be their adoption by caring parents, people who would pour love into them, nurture them. Not sacrifice them on the altar of convenience. Determination filled her.

  Katherine had to do everything in her power to prevent their further suffering. Didn’t Wyatt say that he, too, didn’t want to see the children mistreated? That he only wanted to see them cared for? But could she marry Wyatt? The boy who had left her best friend behind? Could she trust him? Did she have a choice?

  Katherine shifted to look at Timothy. “I understand. Thank you for being so gentle and yet so honest with me.”

  He nodded. “Of course.” A warm smile spread across his face.

  Unsure of what else to say, she was grateful Mrs. Abby came by their table.

  Timothy released her hand.

  “Everything all right?” Mrs. Abby’s brows were furrowed as she looked down at the two of them.

  Katherine nodded, but turned away as a wave of regret filled her. Nothing about her choice would be easy. Turning her back on Timothy. Allying herself with Wyatt.

  “Sure is, ma’am.” Timothy picked up his fork and started back into his lunch.

  “I noticed y’all hadn’t touched your meatloaf.”

  “We just got caught up in conversation,” Timothy said. “Can’t a man get swept away by a lovely young lady anymore?”

  His compliment stung her just as much now as his rejection had earlier.

  Mrs. Abby gave them a knowing smile. “Just don’t let your lunch get cold now, ya’ hear?” Then she moved on to check the next table.

  Timothy looked at Katherine with a mock serious face, getting a bite of meatloaf on his fork. “I guess we’d best get to it then.”

  She pressed a smile to her face that she didn’t feel. But Katherine was glad her proposal hadn’t made things more awkward between her and Timothy. It was in his nature to put people at ease. So she took up her fork and dove into her meatloaf, potatoes, and green beans.

  * * *

  The streets of Cripple Creek were more lively than usual for this time of day. Perhaps it stemmed from the miners being out of work as the strike was still on. David had to be careful as he maneuvered his horse through the city streets with so many people milling about. He made his way to the General Store to pick up a few items for Mary, but his mind remained on the strike. Seemed his mind was always on the strike.

  Their strike had served one of its intended purposes—the mines shut down. At least, the mines that refused to comply. Some of the smaller mines had been quick to agree to the demands of the Western Federation of Miners. This had given them hope for a short strike at first, but the larger mines held out. What would happen, and when it would happen, was anyone’s guess. It had become a waiting game.

  Nearing the store, he pulled back on the reins to slow his horse. As he tied off the reins, he checked his mental list. It would not serve him well to return without something Mary needed. She seemed particularly on edge of late. He stepped into the store.

  “Good afternoon, David,” Mr. Yerby called out from behind the counter. The man greeted every customer without fail.

  David smiled. “Good afternoon to you, sir.”

  “Anything I can help you with?” Mr. Yerby put his hands on the counter and leaned over.

  “No, sir. I’m here to pick up a couple of things for Mary, but I know where everything is.”

  “Just holler if you need anything,” Mr. Yerby said, returning to his ledger book.

  “Will do.” David moved further into the store. Scouring the shelves for the few items he needed, he found them all with ease: coffee, apples, sugar, and oats. He couldn’t help but grab a piece of licorice for Jessie and one for Peter. Taking his wares to the counter and laying them out for purchase, he smiled at Mr. Yerby.

  “That’ll be 75 cents,” he said, tallying it in his ledger.

  David reached in his pocket and pulled out the money. Money. That was another thing he was concerned would become a problem if this strike didn’t end soon. How was he supposed to provide for his family? He and Mary had been wise, saving as much money as they could for such an occasion as this, but it would only last so long.

  “How’s that strike of yours going?” Mr. Yerby asked, his words coming slow, his voice hesitant.

  David shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”

  “I hear tell that a judge is coming from Denver soon and the mine owners have asked to get on his docket.”

  “Oh?” One of David’s eyebrows went up.

  “That’s what I hear,” Mr. Yerby said, looking past David as his next customer walked in. “Good afternoon, Dr. Sullivan!”

  David looked over his shoulder at Doc. He tipped his head in greeting. Doc did the same as he moved past him and toward the side of the counter where the newspapers were stacked.

  Turning his attention back toward Mr. Yerby, he nodded to the man as he gathered his things off the counter. “I’ll keep my ears open. Thank you kindly.”

  What could the mine owners want with a federal judge’s time? This news troubled him the entire ride home.

  Chapter 7

  These past three days had been the craziest of Katherine’s life. Two proposals . . . one delivered by her, nonetheless. What would her parents think? She took a deep breath as she walked. They would soon find out exactly what she had been up to. And her plans for the future. Her heart beat faster as she thought about her mother’s face in reaction to her news. Or what her father might say. Closing her eyes, she forced air in and out of her lungs. This was not about her.

  The ranch loomed ahead of her. The time for plotting and planning had come and gone. This was it. Katherine opened the door to her family home slowly, knocking as she did so.

  “Ma,” she called out, glancing around the room.

  “Back here, Katie.” It was her mother’s voice. The sound came from the back bedroom she and Katherine’s father shared. Not long after, Ma emerged, meeting Katherine in the family room.

  “Good to see you, darling. Glad you could make it for dinner.” Then, as she drew closer to Katherine, her tone changed. “Oh my, Katie, you’re looking thin. Are you eating enough?”

  “Yes.” Katherine smiled. No matter what happened, her mother always found something to fuss over. That was just her way of loving Katherine.

  Ma moved over to the kitchen, tied her apron on, and began washing vegetables.

  “Anything I can do to help?” Katherine moved toward the sink.

  “You can set the table.” Ma nodded toward the cupboard.

  Instead of moving toward the cabinet, Katherine continued to shuffle over to where her mother was. She watched her mother for a few moments before Ma looked up from her work.

  “Did you forget where the dishes were?” Ma smiled at her. It eased her a little.

  “No, ma’am. I, um, had something I needed to ask you.” Katherine clasped her hands behind her back to keep them from shaking.

  “Spit it out, child, I haven’t got all evening!” Another s
mile played across her mother’s lips.

  “I hoped it would be all right if I, um, sort of invited someone to join us for dinner.”

  Ma didn’t miss a beat, but shifted to cutting the vegetables. “I wish you would have mentioned it sooner, but there will be plenty of food. Who is it we have the pleasure of hosting this evening? Timothy?”

  Katherine grimaced. If only she could nod and let it be, but her mother would find out sooner or later. There was no use dodging the question.

  “No. I invited Wyatt to join us.”

  Ma’s hands paused but for a moment before she continued her work. “Oh?”

  Everyone in the house knew how Katherine felt about Wyatt. Her parents had always tried to help her see things differently. As if Wyatt wasn’t to blame for what happened to Ellie Mae. But Katherine had been deaf to their words. And since Wyatt’s return after medical school to fill a much-needed role in their town, Katherine’s parents had come to respect the man. That was hard for her to swallow.

  “Yes.” Katherine watched her mother’s features. “He’ll be along closer to suppertime.”

  “All right.” Her cutting finished and her eyes flickered to Katherine’s. “Now, can you set the table then, dear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Katherine feigned a salute and headed over to complete the chore levied upon her.

  Within the hour, the table was set, including fresh flowers, and the kitchen was filled with the aroma of a well-deserved dinner. Katherine and her mother found themselves chatting about school and Katherine’s students.

  A sound at the front door interrupted their brief reverie. Katherine held her breath. She glanced at the case clock. This was still a little early for Wyatt. But she prepared herself all the same, stepping out of the kitchen to receive her guest.

  “Stop playing with your hair,” Ma admonished. “You’ll pull it out of that bun. It looks fine.”

  Dropping her hands as if jabbed by a pin, Katherine clasped them in front of her. She hadn’t even realized she was doing that.

  Ma moved to rid herself of her apron to prepare for her company, but the intruder opened the door without waiting to be welcomed into the house. It was Pa who appeared. Katherine let out her breath. She had almost forgotten it was past time for him to be home.