The Oregon Pursuit: Christian Western Historical (Window to the Heart Saga Spin-Off Book 1)
Page 9
This time, Miss Orelle eyes narrowed with anger. “I think you would be wise to return to France, where you belong. The west is not a particularly friendly place for our kind. Personally, I cannot wait to return back home.”
“If that is the case, why have you not?” Pierre asked, pointedly.
“Because I have family obligations which keep me here at present. My niece is not capable of handling her current situation, and I fear if I leave her to her own devices nothing good will come of it.”
“Miss Leclaire seems quite adept. She has done an admirable job taking care of her family’s bakery as well as her sister.”
Rolling her eyes, Miss Orelle snorted. “I think your apparent interest in my niece has clouded your judgment. She has hardly taken care of either one. Much longer under her tutelage, and both will be run into the ground.”
Amelie’s eyes darted back to her aunt as a look of deep hurt crossed her face. Pierre was not sure why, but she seemed to want her aunt’s approval. It worried him, because from what he could tell, it would not matter what she did, she was never going to earn it.
“We can agree on one thing; I do have an apparent interest in your niece. It is because of that attentiveness I have come to admire her perseverance and strength of character. I would hope, being her aunt, you would come to esteem the same venerable qualities in her; rather than unfairly chastising her for circumstances beyond her control.”
A seething anger emanated from Miss Orelle, but Pierre did not care a bit. The woman was insufferable and he was tired of everyone allowing her to act in such a crass way unchecked. He waited for a snide barb. Pierre assumed one would be directed at him at any moment, but to his surprise, Miss Orelle remained silent. Good. Perhaps what he said caused the woman to rethink her previous behavior. If his actions could help keep Amelie from further hurt, he would feel he accomplished his goal.
The ride back to West Linn passed without incident. As they pulled up in front of the Leclaire house, Pierre glided down from the carriage first, reaching up to help Amelie descend after him. William did the same for Debbey. Amelie’s aunt remained in the carriage while the two couples approached the porch. Each of the men guided the women to a different side for a bit of privacy.
“I am glad you allowed me to take you to dinner tonight, Amelie.”
“I am glad you asked me to join you.”
“You have no idea how badly I want to lean down and kiss you right now, but with your aunt sitting in the carriage watching us, I will abstain. I do not want our first kiss to be a spectacle for others.”
“How considerate of you, but how do you know I would let you kiss me in the first place?”
He gently let his hand travel along the length of her upper arm and felt her skin prickle under his touch. “Because if this happens when I touch you, I know you want to know what will happen, as much as I do, when we kiss.”
“If we kiss,” Amelie corrected, with a playful smile.
“Oh, I am certain, mon étoile, it will happen. It is only a matter of when,” he stated as he moved towards her, as close as proper etiquette would permit, “and how.”
Amelie looked up into his eyes through her bounty of thick, dark lashes, and Pierre felt himself go weak in the knees. This woman had an effect on him unlike anything he had ever encountered. Every time he thought he had the upper-hand, she managed to cause him to become off kilter again.
“Are you still planning on picking me up for the party tomorrow night?”
“Nothing would keep me from it.”
“I will need to be home by no later than ten.”
“Why? I cannot imagine you having a curfew.”
“No, I like to be plenty rested for church.”
Pierre stiffened at the mention. Was she pious? How did he not pick up on that before?
Evidently, his shift in demeanor got Amelie’s attention, because quickly she asked, “What’s wrong? You seem upset.”
“I was unaware you were religious,” Pierre stated cautiously.
“I believe in God and I am a Christian, if that is what you mean. Is it a problem for you?”
Was it a problem for him? Undeniably, it had caused problems for him in his last relationship. It was the main reason Margaret had refused to let him court her. Was he willing to allow himself to fall for another woman who could potentially put her faith before him?
“I would never try to dictate what anyone believes. However, personally, religion is not a priority.”
As if slapped, Amelie pulled away and stepped back quickly. Skeptically, she looked at him, as she said, “It seems now I have a problem.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, I could never be with a man who doesn’t share the same views about God as I do. If you are not a Christian, I need to end whatever this is here and now.”
“Are you telling me you are unwilling to let me continue to see you because I do not go to church?”
“You shouldn’t over-simplify it like that. It isn’t simply going to church or saying the right words. It’s what you believe, or in your case, what you don’t believe, which is clearly the problem.”
“Amelie, there is unmistakably something between us. Are you really willing to throw it away over something like this?”
“I am sorry, Pierre, but this is how it must be. If I had known your feelings on the matter sooner, I would have never let it get this far.” Opening the door to her house, she turned away, before stating with a hint of sadness, “I am grateful for all you have done for me. I wish you all the best, Pierre.”
Debbey must have overheard the end of their conversation, because she quickly followed Amelie inside without a word.
Stunned, Pierre stared at the door of the Leclaire house for several moments, trying to process what just happened. How could things go from so wonderful to so horrible in such a short amount of time?
“What just happened, friend?” Pierre heard William ask from the side.
“I think Amelie just politely told me to leave her alone.”
“What the devil did you do?”
“She is religious, and my lack of it evidently does not sit well with her.”
“You know, there seems to be a pattern forming here.”
“What does that mean?” Pierre asked, defensively.
“What I mean is this is the second woman you have fallen for who has chosen God over you. Perhaps, you should reflect on it.”
“As if you are overly religious yourself, William.”
“I believe in God. I go to church rather regularly when I am at home.”
Pierre turned and looked at his friend with a perplexed look. “I did not know that.”
“It has never come up, and considering your obvious repulsion on the matter, I felt best never to discuss it.” Both men made their way down to the carriage as William continued to question Pierre. “What is your aversion to religion anyway? I never have heard your reasoning for not attending church.”
Pierre had never considered himself disparaging on the matter, but it seemed he made other people feel uncomfortable with expressing their views regarding the subject. He did not like it, but it seemed he was harboring some sort of resentment to behave in such a way. Why was he so opposed to religion?
“I suppose it stems from my mother. Her father was a tyrannical religious zealot and he was especially harsh when it came to my mother and her siblings. As soon my mother could marry and get away from him, she did. Because of how he was, she refused to have any religion in the home. She raised me to believe faith in a deity was unnecessary.”
“I am sorry all of that happened to your mother, Pierre, but perhaps her views should be just that, hers. You have a right to find out if you feel the same way. Have you ever even been to church?”
Trying to deflect, Pierre shrugged. “You do not have to eat horse dung to know you hate it.”
“By the same token, you also would never know if you love a beignet if you never tried
one.”
Pierre stopped just outside the carriage and said, “I think I will walk the rest of the way back to the inn. Do you mind making sure Miss Orelle arrives safely?”
William raised both eyebrows in bravado. “You will owe me big for this one, friend.”
“Add it to the list.”
Chuckling, William hopped up into the carriage as he said, “Do not be too long. We have a big day at the mill tomorrow and even longer night at Mr. Moore’s party.”
Nodding his head, Pierre watched as the carriage rambled down the dirt road. After a few moments, he wandered after it, lost in contemplation.
What was keeping him from going to church? His mother was part of it. If he were honest with himself, he also had a problem with the idea of giving up control to anyone, let alone some deity in the sky who would demand his blind obedience in exchange for very little in return. It did not seem like a fair trade to him at all, and being a business man, he prided himself on always coming out on the winning side of any deal.
There had to be something to the fact he had only fallen for two women in his life and both were avid Christians. What was it about their God, which made both of them pick religion over being with him? Pierre wanted to get to the bottom of it, and was beginning to see the only real possible way was by going to church.
As Amelie shut the door on Pierre, she wondered why she hadn’t noticed sooner his lack of faith. Had she been so blinded by his memorizing chocolate eyes and husky French accent, she had let herself start to fall for a man who was completely ill-suited for her in the most important way?
She tried to convince herself she was better off. She didn’t need the distraction, considering all she had to deal with, from running the bakery to taking care of her sister. She should be focusing on both of them, rather than on a man who only promised to break her heart.
Debbey placed her clutch down on the sofa and looked at Amelie with an apprehensive face. “Well, it was an eventful evening. Do you mind explaining to me what happened at the end though?”
“Pierre doesn’t go to church.”
“Well, you can hardly blame him, Amelie. He has only been in town a couple of weeks.”
“No, I don’t mean he hasn’t since he has been here. I mean, he hasn’t ever.”
“Did he say why?”
Amelie shook her head. “All he told me was he doesn’t believe in God and sees no point in being religious.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear it Amelie. You two seemed so great together. I honestly thought you had found the man with whom you might settle down. And it’s hard for me to say, since I would have loved for you to marry Matthew.”
“Thank you, Debbey,” Amelie said, as she placed her key into the bowl on top of the table next to the door. “I am tired from all of what happened tonight. You can sleep in Elise’s bed tonight. I will be up shortly.”
Debbey nodded and headed upstairs. Amelie made her way to the back of the house, checking all the doors and windows as she went from room to room. She had done so before leaving. Ever since the burglary, she found herself constantly double-checking, never feeling completely safe.
When she got to the kitchen, she checked the back door, and to her surprise, it was slightly ajar. Amelie gave it a little jiggle, but sure enough, it was unlocked. She was sure she had locked it before going out that evening. How could it be open? She thought back to before she left and remembered her aunt had shown up suddenly, without warning. Had she come to the back and checked everything before they went to dinner? Amelie wasn’t sure.
Glancing around the room, nothing seemed out of place. She opened a few drawers and cabinets, and everything appeared where she remembered leaving it. Why did she get a funny feeling something was off? She couldn’t quite place what was making her feel that way, but the sickening feeling wouldn’t leave the pit of her stomach.
This time, she locked the door and tried the knob to make sure it had latched. Certain she had properly secured the downstairs, Amelie made her way to her bedroom where Debbey was already in bed. She was greeted by the soft glow from the lantern on the nightstand between the twin beds. Quietly, she undressed, put on her nightgown and slipped into bed.
Despite her best effort to keep from disturbing Debbey, she caused her friend to turn over and ask in a whisper, “Do you want to say prayers together like we did when we were children? It might help.”
“I think that would be nice,” Amelie replied.
“I will go first,” Debbey stated. “Dear Lord, thank you for this day. I am so grateful I got to spend the evening with my best friend, Amelie. I am also grateful you have brought William into my life. I ask your continued guidance as I allow him to get to know me. I also ask you to help Amelie to decide what to do in regards to Pierre. I know she feels discouraged right now, but I still believe there is a reason you brought him into her life. Please make that reason clear. Help Amelie not to close her heart off, and to realize all things are possible through you, Lord.”
After the long pause, Amelie knew it was her turn. “Dear God, I also thank you for this day you have given us. I am grateful for the good friend you have provided me in Debbey. She is loyal, considerate, and kind. I don’t know what I would do without her. Lord, I ask for your guidance in how to handle this situation with Pierre. I reacted harshly tonight. As a Christian, I should have shown compassion and tried to understand why he feels the way he does. It is unfair of me to judge him without knowing his reasons for why he believes the way he does. Lord, if it be your will, I ask you provide the opportunity for me to talk to him about it. In the meantime, help me with the hurt and confusion I feel in regards to him. I have never felt this way about any man, but I want to be with someone who loves and puts you first. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”
Amelie did feel much better after their prayers. She didn’t have all the answers, but she had peace knowing God had the solution already worked out.
Chapter 10
Thinking of everything, Mr. Moore had sent over one of his wagons and one of his workers to help Amelie load and deliver all the breads, pastries, and desserts they had ordered for their annual party. Amelie had made sure to bring along her dress for the occasion when she left her house earlier that morning; knowing she would not have time to go home to get ready.
Mrs. Moore had specifically requested Amelie stay to help display all of the baked goods as her parents had done for the previous years. It was difficult trying to live up to the expectations everyone had for her because of her parents, but she tried her best to make everyone happy. She didn’t want to let anyone down.
As Amelie entered the Moore estate, the place was abuzz with servants and workers rushing to and fro, carrying containers, plates, linens and various other elements for the party. Mrs. Moore never missed a detail. She was meticulous in planning, and set high expectations so her events ran flawlessly.
Carrying a stack of boxes filled to the brim with puffed pastries, cookies, and cakes, Amelie made her way into the kitchen. She immediately recognized the Moore head cook and made her way over to the woman.
With a scolding tone, the older woman gruffly stated, “Good afternoon, Miss Leclaire. I’m glad to see you finally were able to make it.”
Flushed with embarrassment at the rebuke, Amelie quickly clamored to her own defense, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Ferguson, my aunt insisted on taking Elise for the day. I ended up doing all of the baking on my own.”
“Your family problems are of little concern to me, Miss Leclaire. You need to figure out a way to run your bakery or you’re going to end up losing it. My kitchen would fall apart if I ran it the way you do your bakery.”
“I am doing the very best I can, and I admit, I don’t have it all down yet. I am a quick study and am learning every day.”
“Sometimes you can’t learn quick enough to keep the wolves from coming a’ knocking at your door.”
“That’s enough, Mrs. Ferguson; let Miss Leclaire be and go about your own business.
There is plenty to keep you busy without you needing to worry about her,” Mrs. Moore reprimanded.
Relieved, Amelie placed the final boxes on the counter and turned to Mrs. Moore. “Thank you for your intercession.”
“She means well, but Mrs. Ferguson often asserts her opinion where it doesn’t belong.”
Amelie knew it was the price she paid for living in a small town. Everyone knew everyone else’s business. Despite the irritations of meddlesome neighbors, she still would prefer the benefits of having good, loyal townspeople to the distant strangers you never got to know if one lived in the city.
Amelie spent two years in San Francisco and never knew anyone in the boarding house in which she lived. She only had superficial relationships with her classmates, and even now, she didn’t miss any of them. On the other hand, if Amelie never saw the Moores or the McCoys again, she would feel a tremendous loss.
After her parents’ death, the town rallied around the orphaned girls. Their aid during the aftermath made it clear West Linn was her home. Through all of their support, Amelie realized she never wanted to leave again.
“Did you bring your attire for the evening?” Mrs. Moore inquired.
Amelie nodded. “I have my dress in the wagon.”
Originally, she had been disappointed at the prospect of having to wear the same pink dress again. After her fight with Pierre, she figured it no longer mattered what she wore to the party.
“Why don’t you get dressed in one of the spare rooms upstairs? Use the one on the left side. When you are done, you can oversee the placement of all your wonderful creations on the tables, but make sure you don’t mess up your attire doing it. I want you to remember you are my guest first and foremost.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Moore. I will make sure everything is perfect for this evening.”