Love Inspired Historical November 2014

by Danica Favorite

  Please, Lord, if it’s not too much to ask, could You also help me get over my feelings for Annabelle? They’re entirely inappropriate, and I want to behave honorably toward her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  When Annabelle woke, her foot wasn’t throbbing as badly. The swelling had gone down. At least she’d be able to do some work today and not be a burden. She shifted the two little girls sleeping almost on top of her, curled together like kittens, noting that Polly was nowhere to be seen. She sighed and struggled to put on her boots. Thankfully Gertie had lent her a more practical pair of shoes. If Polly was already up and working, Annabelle would be scolded for remaining abed.

  Her ankle was tender as she stepped on it, but she’d manage. The fire hadn’t yet been stirred up. Annabelle grabbed a poker and began stirring the ashes, exposing the red-hot coals. She then added a few pieces of the wood. The fire sprang to life almost immediately.

  Remembering where Gertie kept the coffeepot, she pulled it out and began taking the steps to prepare the coffee.

  The calm, quiet air felt more peaceful than what Annabelle had ever felt inside the mining camp. Mixed in with the smoky fire, she caught a hint of the pine from the remaining trees. They would soon be taken for the mining operations, she was sure. For now, though, she could watch the soft pink stripes of dawn crest the mountain, highlighting the majestic pines around them. Absolutely amazing.

  In such a moment, it was almost easy to believe in God. No, that was not right. She had never stopped believing. God was still there. Still painting the sky as He directed the sun over the mountain like He did every morning. Her mother used to quote the Bible at these times—“This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice in it.”

  Annabelle’s heart gave a flutter. In this moment, in the perfectly wonderful sunrise, her heart could rejoice at the magnificence of the Lord’s creation.

  It didn’t mean that anything changed in their relationship, and certainly offered no proof of any affection the Lord might hold for her. But still she could enjoy the work of His hands.

  She brushed off her skirts and looked for a bucket to get some water from the creek. As she stood, she realized that in that memory of her mother, the pang in her heart wasn’t the crippling grief it had been all these months.

  “Good morning!” Gertie’s greeting made her jump. “I see you’ve already begun making the breakfast preparations.”

  “Just the fire. I was going to start the coffee, but I realized that there’s no water, so I need to go to the creek.”

  Gertie held up a bucket. “No need. But we are low on wood. If your ankle is feeling up to it, you could gather some.”

  “Of course.” Annabelle gave a small smile. “It doesn’t appear to be troubling me overmuch.”

  She started for the woodpile, grateful that Gertie had given her something to do other than remain idle. As she got closer, her ankle began to throb. She’d tough it out.

  “Annabelle!”

  She spied Joseph coming from the other direction and sighed. Everyone else would accept her “I’m fine,” but Joseph would probably see through it.

  “Good morning.” She didn’t bother trying to smile, since with him it was a wasted effort.

  “What are you doing? Your foot—”

  “Is feeling much better, thanks. Gertie needed more wood.”

  He let out a long sigh, the kind that meant she had yet again managed to exasperate him. Well, that was fine by her, since he’d made his feelings for her clear last night. It didn’t matter to her one bit what he thought of her.

  “Why don’t I help?”

  “If you like.” She shrugged. “Aren’t you supposed to be heading out to look at your father’s other properties?”

  “Slade was gone when I woke.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Someone probably needed his help, and being Slade, he went to do it.”

  He looked at her solemnly. Studying her. “You know a lot about the goings-on here.”

  They had reached the woodpile, and Annabelle began picking up the wood they’d need for the fire. “This used to be like a second home to me. But anymore—”

  “You don’t want to get involved,” he said quietly.

  She straightened, then stared hard at him. “Why would I? Leadville might be a fast-growing city sure to rival Denver, but it is still a dangerous place. People get sick, people die, outlaws come, or they tire of trying to strike it rich and head home. Or worse, they do strike it rich. But you know what they do then? They leave. Even the Tabors, with their magnificent opera house, do you think they spend their days in this place? No. They have their mansion in Denver, just like everyone else.”

  The back of her throat had a slight tickle, like everything she’d been going through wasn’t enough.

  “You want my honesty, Joseph? Here’s honest. You’ve offered me friendship. But where will that leave me? If you find your father’s silver, you will head home to your family. One more person I care about gone. Trust me, remaining unattached is the only way I can survive. I’ve lost too much.”

  She turned to head back to the camp, her ankle giving slightly as she stepped on it. Well, she’d endure it. Just as she’d endure Joseph’s silence every painful step of the way home.

  Because in the end, he knew she was right. Her father was worried she might form a romantic attachment to the man, but given that she could barely afford for her heart to like him as a friend, falling in love was simply not an option.

  Clearly, Joseph knew it, too.

  Annabelle paused near a darkened tent and even darker fire to rest for a moment.

  “Excuse me.” A woman poked her head out of the tent. “Could you spare some wood?”

  Her throbbing ankle screamed no, but the wail of a baby from inside the tent made her heart insist.

  “Of course.” She made one trip, she could do another.

  Annabelle set the wood in the woman’s fire pit and tried to stir up some of the coals, but she could already tell there was no heat left in them.

  “Why don’t I bring you a coal from our fire?”

  The woman rewarded her with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’m afraid I haven’t gotten the hang of mining camp life.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. I’ll return shortly.” At least without the weight of the wood in her arms, the pressure on her foot wasn’t so bad.

  When they were out of earshot, Joseph said, “You’re a better person than you think, Annabelle Lassiter.”

  “Not really. I’m just doing my duty. The woman needs help. You can’t turn a blind eye to a woman needing help.”

  “Many would,” Joseph said quietly.

  Not a Lassiter. But this wasn’t an argument she needed to have with him. Not in the interest of keeping their distance. Joseph did things to her heart that she didn’t like. Made her feel things that she didn’t want to feel, least of all for a man like him.

  They returned to the cabin, where Gertie had already started breakfast.

  “I’m sorry it took so long,” Annabelle said by way of partial apology and as an introduction to the situation with the woman she’d just met.

  Polly glared at her. “You can’t even get wood.”

  Annabelle tried counting to ten, and she tried to hold her temper. But honestly…how much was she supposed to take? Her father would tell her to turn the other cheek, but what did that look like when someone else was constantly belittling you?

  “Actually,” she said with as much calm as she could muster, “I met a woman on the way back who asked if she could have some wood. She’s new here, and she had a baby crying in the tent. I gave my load to her, and I’m bringing her some hot coals to get her fire going again.”

  Polly’s indrawn breath wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it should be. She didn’t want to get in the jabs against her former friend, the way Polly was keen on doing to her. All she wanted was peace to reign again.

  Annabelle’s words sprang Gertie into action. “Oh,
that poor dear. I wonder if that’s Isaac Johanson’s wife. I meant to call on her yesterday, but with everything…” She cast an apologetic look at Annabelle.

  “It’s all right. I’m sure you can visit with her later. But right now, I’d like to get some coals to her. It’s chilly out still.”

  Gertie rewarded her with a smile. “Yes, I think that’s good.” She handed Annabelle a bucket with some coals in it.

  “If you’ll give me just a moment, I’ll send you with some leftover biscuits. It isn’t much, but with a jug of coffee, it’ll take the edge off. You’ll invite her to have breakfast with us, won’t you?”

  Annabelle tried to nod, but Gertie kept talking and piling things into a basket. “Give her one of these blankets. I like to keep them on hand for the new little ones.”

  Gertie bustled past her and for a moment, Annabelle forgot that her world had changed so completely. It was like the old days, when Gertie and her mother had conspired together to make sure everyone had what they needed. Just last Christmas, they had come together to make sure every child in the camp had received a gift.

  Annabelle’s heart constricted. It had been their last major project before her mother had gotten ill. She took a deep breath and swallowed her unshed tears. Her mother would have loved this.

  A sleepy-eyed Nugget came down the stairs. “Where did you go? I was lonesome without you.”

  For all of Annabelle’s promises to keep her heart to herself, loving this sweet child was irresistible. Her heart did another flip. Joseph’s reminder of his impermanence in her life was something that she’d do well to continue remembering. When Joseph left, so would Nugget.

  But when the little girl jumped into her arms, Annabelle couldn’t stop herself from hugging her back. “Nonsense, silly girl. You had Caitlin to keep you company.”

  “But she’s not you.” Nugget sighed into her hair.

  Annabelle swallowed. Someday this would be easier.

  “Well,” Annabelle said as she released Nugget, “you’d best get washed up because Gertie is getting breakfast ready. I have an errand to run, but then I’ll be back.”

  Gertie handed her the wrapped biscuits. “Don’t take no for an answer, because I won’t hear of it.”

  “Yes, Gertie.” Annabelle pretended not to notice Polly’s scowl as she headed back to the woman’s tent.

  Joseph grabbed the basket out of her hands. “I’ll take that. Your limp is getting worse, and you don’t need to aggravate it by carrying such a load.”

  “Annabelle?” Gertie stopped and looked at her. “I thought you said your foot was better.”

  The snort from Polly was enough to make her ignore the throbbing in her foot. “It is. Just a twinge now and again. Nothing to keep me from giving a warm welcome to a woman who needs it.”

  She didn’t care if her smile was fake or not. For the first time since her mother had died, she had a purpose, and the hurt wasn’t as great. Even the pain in her foot was tolerable.

  “I’ll look after her,” Joseph said. Which seemed to seal the deal as Gertie nodded, and Polly’s scowl deepened.

  Once they were out of earshot of the cabin, Joseph spoke. “You need to go easy on Polly.”

  Annabelle stopped and stared at him. “Me? I don’t understand.”

  The way he pressed his lips together told her that she obviously had missed something. Probably that whole forgiving seventy times seven thing.

  “I overheard her at the river fighting with some guy named Tom. Apparently, she heard him mentioning to some of the other guys that you looked quite the picture the other day in town. She thinks you encouraged his attentions and are trying to steal him from her.”

  “Why, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” Surely Polly knew her well enough to know that she would never do such a thing. “Polly knows that I would never be interested in one of her beaus.”

  Then again, Polly had once thought that Annabelle would never think her a liar. So much had changed with a few careless words.

  “I know,” Joseph said quietly. “But Polly believes otherwise, and that’s probably the source of her attitude.”

  The sincere look in his eyes made it hard to remember all the things she needed to focus on. Like the fact that he was the last person on earth who could be a friend to her.

  “I’ll talk to her.” One more hard thing to do, but it seemed like everything in her life was a hard thing. Because she couldn’t bring herself to continue the conversation with Joseph into the next logical step, which would be to let him know that they had to do something about Nugget’s continuing attachment.

  Yet it seemed like the more she tried pulling away from Joseph and his family, the closer they all seemed to get.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Annabelle had never looked so beautiful as when she held the tiny baby while its mother ate. Again, he couldn’t help but think she would make an excellent mother. Her care for Nugget had shown that, but now, with such a tiny infant in her arms, it was a beautiful sight.

  Why did it have to be so hard?

  He tore his eyes off the captivating woman and watched the other woman gobble the biscuits. It had clearly been a long time since she’d had a substantial meal.

  “Where are you from, Meg?” he asked the young mother after she’d eaten the last of her food.

  “Kansas.” She gave a wry grin. “Isaac wasn’t meant to be a farmer, poor man. He tried, he really did.”

  Joseph had heard many similar stories since being here. So many people wanting a better life. Of course, he had been a good farmer, that wasn’t the problem. But when the bank owned it and demanded higher payments than any reasonable man could afford and still keep food on the table…

  He glanced back at Annabelle, who’d handed the baby back to its mother. She wouldn’t understand what it was like to do without. Nor would she understand the willingness to do just about anything to make sure loved ones had food to eat.

  “What made you come here?” He turned his attention back on Meg.

  A dark look crossed Meg’s face. “His brother had written, talking about all the money there was to be made. Isaac sold everything we had and sent some of the money ahead for his brother to get us a place. Only…” Meg sighed and cradled her baby tighter.

  “When we got here, we found out his brother had gambled it all and then some. There were no houses to be let, and even if there were, we didn’t have enough money. One night, some men attacked Isaac, and said that if he didn’t come up with the rest of the money his brother owed, they’d harm me and the baby. So he gave them the last of our money. Now we’re here, and Isaac is working at the mine in hopes he’ll make enough to support us.”

  How he hated the look on Annabelle’s face. It was as if all this served to prove her theories on the evils of mining true.

  He shot a glare at Annabelle, then returned his attention to Meg. “Did you talk to the sheriff?”

  “For as much good as it’ll do us.” Meg shook her head. “He said he’d look into it, but he said not to hold out much hope.”

  Annabelle took the woman’s hand. “At least you’re all safe. As far as catching those horrible men, you should talk to my father. He’s a minister in town, and he knows just about everyone. Sometimes he can find out things the law can’t.”

  Even though Meg shook her head, a tiny light shone in her eyes. Joseph couldn’t help but notice that she squeezed Annabelle’s hand back, clinging to it like a lifeline.

  “All I want is enough money to get us back home. I know Isaac wasn’t cut out for farming, but mining isn’t for him, either. Perhaps if we went back to my parents, they’d let us stay with them for a while until Isaac can find other work.”

  “We’ll do what we can to help,” said Annabelle, a little too cheerful to have fully grasped the situation.

  Annabelle stood, then looked around the campsite. “Would it be too forward of me to ask what supplies you have? We keep a number of things for people in your
situation, and—”

  “We won’t be taking charity.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of offering you charity,” Annabelle said in a gentle voice that spoke of having done this dozens of times. As much as she fought it, she was a natural at caring for others. If only she’d open her heart to see that. “These are the leftover supplies from people who’ve done just as you’re saying you’d like to do. When they leave, they have no use for these things, so they give them to us and ask us to give them to the next family.”

  Not only was Meg not appearing convinced, but she’d stiffened even further.

  “Truly, Meg. It’s what we do here. When someone’s done using an item, they leave it for the next person who comes along. No sense in it going to waste.”

  Meg softened slightly, and Joseph had to give Annabelle credit for trying. When she wasn’t thinking about the pain of her losses, she had such an incredible heart for others.

  “I…” Meg’s face indicated a debate between practicality and wanting to protect her pride. Joseph knew all about that. Had faced the same debate upon encountering the Lassiter family.

  “I know.” Joseph stepped in and gave a smile as he peeked down at the baby. “It was hard for me to accept their help at first, as well, but I’ve found that they aren’t just about giving handouts, but are true friends.”

  Some of the wariness left Meg’s face. “They helped you?”

  “Are helping. I came looking for my pa, and found that I had a sister.” He relayed his tale and as he shared his family’s need, Meg continued to soften. True, he did not share the most private details, such as how bad things were for his family back home, but at least she would understand that Annabelle meant to be her friend.

  Which clearly Annabelle did, because as he relayed his tale, she’d once again taken the baby into her arms and was playing with it quietly.