A Bride's Agreement

by Elaine Bonner

  “You see.” Eduardo’s whispered words sent a shiver through her. “You are beautiful, just like your mother.”

  They were quiet a few minutes before Chiquita spoke again. “She told me about my father and what happened. She had been visiting a friend. While she was returning home, this man tricked her into thinking he was injured. She got off her horse to help him, and he attacked her.” A tear slid down her cheek. “Even after all these years, she still carries the hurt from what he did.”

  “You mustn’t think of him, though, my love. Consider the gift God’s given you of such a great mother.” He turned her to face him and put his arms around her.

  She smiled up at him, her hand stroking his cheek. “And, what a gift I have in you.”

  He smiled. “All I wanted was someone to be here in the lonely evenings, and God blessed me with you. I love you so much.”

  Her eyes shone with love as she returned the kiss he gave her. “I love you, too.”

  LOVE’S SHINING HOPE

  by JoAnn A. Grote

  DEDICATION

  To Sharon Olsen Falvey, my sister, my friend.

  CHAPTER 1

  1893

  Marry you, Jason?” A sophisticated little laugh cut sharply through the early August twilight. “Don’t be silly.”

  Pearl Wells caught her breath at her best friend’s condescending tone. Dismay welled up in her chest. When she’d sat down to await Miranda thirty minutes earlier, she’d never intended to eavesdrop on a lovers’ quarrel!

  Her spine pressed her blue Eton jacket against the high back of the wooden porch bench. If only she could get away without being seen! But the couple was too close—just around the corner where the wide porch continued its journey about the pleasant two-story clapboard building.

  “Silly? We’ve talked of marrying since we were children!”

  The shock in Jason’s voice echoed that in Pearl’s mind. She could imagine his usually laughing, golden brown eyes widening beneath gleaming, russet brown hair.

  “We were children,” Miranda responded. “Until you went to school in Chicago three years ago and I went to Saint Paul last fall, we never left Chippewa City. Besides,” a petulant note crept into her voice. “Our plans never included running your parents’ farm on the Minnesota prairie and raising your brothers and sisters.”

  “Our plans didn’t include my parents dying in a buggy accident three weeks ago either.” Jason’s bitter tone burned into Pearl’s heart with the searing heat of a branding iron.

  “Your parents were so proud of your plans to be an architect. Surely they wouldn’t expect you to throw them away.”

  “Are you sure that your concern is for me? You seem to have developed the popular attitude that farmers are somehow less important than townspeople. Perhaps you just don’t care to be a farmer’s wife.” His voice could have formed ice.

  Pearl pressed her hands firmly over her ears. She wouldn’t listen to any more of this private conversation! But her small hands couldn’t shut out the embarrassing scene.

  “You’ve always known I don’t want to live on a farm. A farmer’s wife has a hard life. I won’t grow old before my time working my fingers to the bone when instead I can live as a lady is meant to live.”

  “You mean with less-deserving women performing your household chores?”

  “You needn’t sound so scornful. As an architect, you’ll have a much different life as an adult than you did as a child. With your talent and personality, you are certain to be a success. Naturally your wife will be busy with social obligations.”

  “Sounds as though it’s the architect you love rather than the man.” Jason’s low, sharp words almost didn’t make it through the barrier Pearl had tried to erect. She wished fervently they hadn’t.

  Exasperation filled Miranda’s sigh. “I simply want what is best for you.”

  “Trust me to know what that is. I’m asking you again to marry me. I give you fair warning that my plan to be an architect is behind me. I can’t foresee a time I’ll be leaving the farm or my family.”

  “Then my answer must be no.”

  A huge, burning rock seemed to replace Pearl’s heart. How could Miranda say no?

  “My answer will be yes when you give up this preposterous idea—”

  “I’ll not give it up. If you think so little of me that you believe I could walk away from my family when they need me, perhaps it’s best that you refuse me.”

  A dog howled in the distance and was answered by another. Jason’s horse snorted, and another horse’s hooves plodded down a nearby street. The slight, sweet scent of the bushes in front of the porch railing drifted on the barely moving air. Pearl held her breath, waiting for the silence to end between the two who had loved each other for so many years. Her fingers slipped from their ineffectual place over her ears. She lowered them slowly to the wide arms of the bench, inadvertently brushing her jacket’s leg-of-mutton sleeve against something on the small table beside her.

  Too late she realized she had knocked over a porcelain pot of geraniums. She grasped for it as it fell and watched in horror as it crashed to pieces on the painted wooden floor.

  Silence followed. Pearl closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath before standing up. There’d be no more hiding from Jason and Miranda.

  “Who’s there?”

  Jason’s bark is more of a demand than a question, Pearl thought, lifting her tailored blue serge skirt and stepping around the dirt, blossoms, and broken porcelain. She stopped short around the corner, just past the darkest shadows.

  The couple stood in the yellow rectangle made by the sitting room lamp shining through the window. Jason was standing as straight and tall as ever, his shoulders broad beneath his long roll black suit, black crape wrapped around the crown of his derby in the traditional mourning manner.

  “It’s only me. I was waiting for Miranda.”

  “So you could eavesdrop on us?”

  Anger fired through her at Jason’s suspicion. It was embarrassing enough to be in this situation without being accused of having staged it. “Naturally, I could think of nothing more exciting to do with my evening than listen to the two of you quarrel!”

  She regretted her sarcasm immediately. Jason’s emotions must be raw from Miranda’s treatment. It wasn’t like him to attack her so rudely. She gripped her hands together behind her and forced her voice to a softer and lower level. “I apologize to you both. I truly didn’t intend to eavesdrop. It’s just that you were suddenly here, and quarreling, and there didn’t seem to be a path of escape.”

  “It’s all right, Pearl.” Miranda pardoned her carelessly.

  Pearl didn’t care whether Miranda forgave her after the way she’d treated Jason. She glanced at him. He’d never been a handsome man, but definitely appealing with his ready grin and laughing eyes—eyes that could be so warm and steady. They’d reminded her of the sun the first time she’d looked into them across a sheet of gray ice the day he’d saved her life.

  There was nothing warm about his eyes tonight.

  “I guess you would have heard about it anyway. You and Miranda tell each other everything.” Jason didn’t sound as though he was forgiving her. Would he ever look at her without remembering that she’d heard Miranda refuse his proposal? If she lost his friendship… A shudder went through her at the thought.

  Jason turned away from her. “Good-bye, Miranda.”

  The pain that throbbed in the short farewell brought instant tears to sting Pearl’s eyelids. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out as he crossed the porch, each step an exclamation point against the narrow wooden boards.

  Pearl remained frozen until the buggy disappeared, then turned to Miranda. She was standing at the top of the steps with one black lace glove against a white wooden pillar. Her thick, dark hair was piled high above her slightly round face, beneath one of the hats she loved. A firefly flared and faded against the black silk gown she wore in sympathy with Jason’s grieving.


  “I cannot believe you refused him.”

  “When he’s thought it over, he’ll realize I’m right, and he’ll come back.”

  Pearl doubted it. She’d known Jason as long as Miranda had known him. He wouldn’t be Jason Sterling if he left his family for her. “You mean when he realizes you’re right about leaving his family to their own devices?”

  Miranda settled gracefully into a white wooden rocker in front of the sitting room window. “You make it sound vile. With his fine, quick mind and talented fingers, Jason would be miserable as a farmer.”

  “He shall be miserable if he doesn’t care for his family. Don’t you know the man at all?”

  The small glow of lamplight touched Miranda’s lips in their condescending smile. “It may hurt him now, but eventually he’ll realize that he has to pursue his career as an architect, has to live the life he was created to live. When that happens, you and Jason will both see that love for him is behind my refusal to marry him now.”

  Pearl shook her head slowly. “I shall never believe love behaves in such a manner—forcing the person one claims to love to abandon his principles. You should be proud that the man who loves you is God-fearing, unselfish, and fine.”

  Miranda’s superior laugh rang through the evening air. “You’ve been reading too many romantic serials. Sacrifice seems noble in a story, but in true life, it is only painful and hard. Jason has always known what he wanted to do with his life, and it isn’t farming.”

  “You always knew what you wanted to do with your life also. You wanted to be Jason’s wife.”

  “Only after the manner we’ve planned, especially after the time I’ve spent in Saint Paul. I met fascinating people there, had entrance to elegant homes, was escorted to fine eating establishments, wore beautiful gowns.”

  “Are you certain you haven’t fallen in love with one of your city-bred escorts?” Pearl was almost ashamed of her question. When Miranda wrote of the men she was seeing while in Saint Paul, Pearl had been horrified that she would treat her commitment to Jason so lightly. Miranda had insisted that her escorts were merely friends, and Pearl’s loyalty had been quick to accept her explanation. Now she wondered anew.

  Miranda’s gaze dropped to her lap, where her lace-covered fingers played with her fine silk skirt. “I could hardly go about the city unescorted. Aunt Elsie was kind enough to insist I experience the benefits of culture the city provided, and arranged for her friends’ sons to accompany me.”

  “They must have been weak examples of manhood if you no longer recognize the worth of a man like Jason.”

  “I won’t apologize for liking life as I experienced it there. Jason and I can have a similar life. I don’t intend to allow him to give it away in a moment of sentimental self-sacrifice.”

  Pearl took an impulsive step nearer, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “Sentimental! I do believe Jason’s right. You aren’t thinking of him at all. You’re thinking of yourself, and a life filled with empty grasping instead of giving! Why, I can hardly believe you’re the same sweet, innocent girl with whom I grew up!”

  The rocker stopped short as Miranda’s back stiffened. “I’m not that girl. I’ve become a woman during the year in Saint Paul, and I’m not a whit ashamed of that woman.”

  “I spent months advancing my music training at the Northwestern Conservatory of Music in Minneapolis, but I hope I haven’t become as self-seeking and superior as you’ve grown. Jason’s life is disintegrating around him. He’s lost his parents and given up his career, and now he’s lost you, too.”

  “He hasn’t lost me. I told you, he’ll be back.”

  Pearl shook her head so hard that some of her blond curls came unpinned and slid down her neck. “Not if he has to meet your demands. He has too much honor. How could you hurt him so unbearably when he needs your love and understanding now more than ever?”

  A high little laugh escaped Miranda’s heart-shaped lips, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Why, I do believe you are in love with Jason yourself!”

  Pearl flushed. After all these years, had she given away her secret in a moment of anger? Although she and Jason were good friends, it was Miranda who had caught his heart. Never had she revealed her love to anyone, and now… It wouldn’t do for Miranda to know of it now, when she’d become a stranger and treated Jason’s love so lightly. “You’re only attempting to change the subject because you know you cannot defend the way you’ve treated him.”

  Miranda shot out of the chair and stood quaking only inches away from Pearl. “What gives you the right to judge me, or to tell me how to deal with my fiancé?”

  “The right of one who has been a friend to both of you since we were ten years old. And he’s not your fiancé. You ended that tonight when you threw his love back in his face.”

  Miranda’s hand streaked out to land a resounding slap on Pearl’s cheek.

  Pearl gasped, blinking against the sting of the unexpected blow. Turning sharply on her high-heeled, high-buttoned shoes, she grasped her slender skirt and hurried down the steps and away from the friend she’d loved like a sister.

  The burning in her cheek seemed minor compared to the fire in her chest. To think anyone would treat Jason’s love in such a trifling manner! He must be aching horribly over Miranda’s refusal. One would think his love would die a sudden and merciful death upon realizing that the woman he cared for was selfish and wholly unworthy of that love. At eighteen, she wasn’t so young and inexperienced as to believe love died so easily.

  If it did, her own love for Jason would have died years ago when she discovered he was madly in love with her best friend. Instead it took root all the more fiercely and grew taller and stronger than an oak beside a river. She’d tried to care for other men, but every potential suitor had paled beside Jason Sterling. If he had asked her to marry him, she’d have accepted so quickly it would have set his head spinning.

  CHAPTER 2

  Pearl closed the door behind her last piano student and hurried to the shed to harness her horse, Angel, to her adoptive father’s buggy. Large baskets of bread and apple pies she’d baked the night before were placed on the floor and seat, covered with towels to protect them from flies and the dust of the road.

  Her conscience had been prickling for a day and a half—ever since that night on Miranda’s porch. When Jason’s parents died, she’d attended the funeral with her adoptive parents, Dr. Matthew Strong and his wife, whom Pearl had always called Mother Boston. She’d expressed her condolences, and Mother Boston had sent out a basket of food. Of course she’d been praying for Jason and his family, but she was ashamed to admit she hadn’t realized they might need more substantial assistance.

  She wasn’t certain of what that assistance might consist. However, since the oldest woman in the home was now Maggie, Jason’s twelve-year-old sister, she was sure baked goods would be appreciated.

  Fields began almost before she left the prairie town. The hay crops were mostly garnered, and haystacks dotted the fields, along with men and horses beginning to harvest barley and early wheat. The heady smell of the ripe grains filled the air. She loved the way friendly clouds sent lilac shadows weaving over the golden fields.

  The buggy’s red wheels settled into the well-worn ruts in the dirt road, their rattle bringing curious prairie dogs from their holes. The plop, plop of Angel’s hooves and the swish of the wind through the fields kept up a constant background to Pearl’s thoughts.

  She and her brother, Johnny, had lived with their adoptive parents since she was two and he was six. Although Dr. Matt and Mother Boston had surrounded them with all the love two children could ask, she and Johnny had maintained a special bond through the years.

  Jason and Johnny had been good friends from the time Jason’s family moved into the area eight years earlier. Perhaps it was Johnny’s attitude that caused Jason to be so accepting toward her. She was so comfortable with him! He was like a second brother.

  A yellow-breasted meadowlark lit on
a weed top and trilled its song as Pearl turned off onto the lane leading to Jason’s farmstead. The two-story, white clapboard house was dwarfed by the red barn, the machine shed, and corncribs. She recalled Jason speaking of the house being built in the ’80s. Those had been profitable years for the farmers, and fine farm homes had replaced most of the sod huts and small homes that were common in the ’70s.

  Cottonwoods and maples had been planted around the house and beside the lane years ago, but they were still young. She smiled at the sound of the thick, shiny cottonwood leaves clapping in the wind, as if applauding her decision to come.

  Smells of animal life assailed her, drawing her attention to the brown-and-white cows gazing idly at her over the fence and to the hogs lazily grunting in another fenced section near the farm building most distant from the house. She knew Jason’s father had kept only a few cows and hogs to meet the family’s needs, and considered the crops his livelihood, though dairy farming was the primary means of support for most area farmers.

  As she tied Angel to the white fence enclosing the yard, she noticed the weed-infested garden off to one side, near the fields. The pansies lifting their cheery heads beside the porch, however, grew weed free, and she wondered at the inconsistency.

  It was Maggie who responded to her knock on the kitchen screen door, her broad face pale and plain between two long brown braids. The girl’s suspiciously red eyes opened wide at the sight of the piano teacher. “Miss Wells!”

  Pearl politely ignored the signs of her grief and smiled cheerfully. “Hello. I overbaked and decided to share my bounty.”

  “How kind! Won’t you come in?” Maggie held the screen door while Pearl entered the large square kitchen and placed the baskets on the rectangular oak table in the middle of the room.

  Pearl had never been inside Jason’s home, and she glanced eagerly about the high-ceilinged kitchen. There were windows on two walls, filling the room with late summer sunlight. The wainscoting was shiny white, and the walls above it a cheerful yellow. The furnishings were surprisingly up-to-date. Pale blue curtains fluttered at the open, screened windows.