My Heart Belongs in Castle Gate, Utah

by Dicken, Angie;

  Leanna’s spine shuddered with the thought of Maria, Teddy, and baby George sitting in that dining room just hours before. “Your family, Alex, is more important than a hidden relationship.”

  “Or a discovered one.”

  “Yes.” She swallowed a ball of emotion.

  He kept his body turned away from her. “You were right. There is no place for us.” The words found their way around him and bit her ears with venom. She had tried to convince him, but he held on with all his heart. Even though her fear came true, Alex’s surrender shattered every ounce of strength.

  “It is best that I leave.” Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth to stifle a sob.

  She longed to look in his eyes one more time. To warm her hands on his strong jaw and bid him farewell with one final kiss. But he was still as a statue, his broad back acting as a defense—against her. His posture was similar to the wall that she had built in her own heart when Jack was alive. Once again, she took part in destroying a relationship because of her lack of discipline. So impassible was this expanse between Alex and her. Such a firm declaration that she did not belong here. She was no longer welcome. There was no one begging her to stay. All the destruction she caused in this place was not laid to rest in the forgiveness of Jack, but now consumed a family she loved deeply.

  As far as the owners of the Pappas restaurant were concerned, she may as well have lit the match.

  Spring 1911

  The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they approached the small gate to their back garden. The mine crates had endured another Castle Gate winter with little repair, and now the bright spring sunshine bathed them. Building the house had been unforeseeable practice for Alex when he and many other miners reconstructed the restaurant after the fire. To have accomplished opening his parents’ business in a matter of weeks was impressive and a start to laying to rest what was left undone.

  Alex followed Yanni through the gate. “This spring promises much fruit. Momma and Papa have more business than ever,” Alex said aloud. “Why are you so quiet, brother?”

  Yanni stopped walking and spun around. “English is my enemy, now.”

  “What?” Alex scratched his head. “You have learned so quickly. It is best to know—”

  “Coffey admitted the fire to his friends,” his brother seethed. “Today they joked about it, Alex.”

  Rage burrowed through him as he latched the gate behind him. It took every ounce of control to not yank the gate from its post. The case was never solved and was tossed out quickly by the authorities. Every Greek took it as an insult, and a notion that danger was at their backs.

  His brother continued, “He said your ugly fiancée was a poor replacement for the English teacher, and bragged about how he ran her off before things got unruly around here.”

  A familiar fire ravaged Yanni’s eyes. He was tormented by the injustice of it all—and the peril his family had barely missed. Some nights, Yanni would yell out in his sleep, shouting the names of his children, dreaming that Coffey’s fire had consumed their little bodies.

  Most days, Alex not only managed the crew but also had the task of keeping his brother away from Coffey and his gang for fear that his vengeful thirst might be quenched. He should have never told Yanni that he suspected that it had been Coffey.

  But now? His brother had heard it for himself, from the very mouth of the arsonist. What could they do? He couldn’t shake it out of Coffey in front of the authorities. He was certain if he laid a hand on the man, it would destroy all his hard work to become foreman. Years of breaking backs and breathing dust would be wasted.

  Yanni cursed beneath his breath then disappeared inside.

  Alex stormed across the yard, passed by the smoking oven, then kicked an old wash bin with his boot, sending it crashing into the wire fence. These were the moments when he spoke candidly with God. His first inclination was to raise a fist to the heavens, but how could he when the children were safe and business was booming? He could not blame God; he could only thank Him.

  “Alex, you look as angry as a bull.” His father carried a bucket and a shovel over to the garden in the back corner.

  “Yanni overheard that Coffey admit to the fire.”

  “Does that surprise you?” The old man began to dig up the last of the leeks. “At least it’s all past us now. Goes to show how much more important family is than a silly whim.”

  Alex clenched his fists, pushing away the thoughts of the woman who his father implicated. Leanna was no whim, she had been his heart.

  “Filling your obligation will prove you are committed to this family,” Papa added.

  “I work hard as foreman, Papa. And it’s all for my kin. Marriage will prove nothing.” Not a day went by without him trying to convince Alex to go against his vow to never marry, especially now that his supposed bride was living under their roof.

  “Come now, Alex. You know what I mean. Kara is anxious to fulfill her own obligation to her father.”

  “What? To take his dowry?”

  “To marry as she should.” His bottom lip curled inward.

  Alex considered offering to pay her way back. But he knew the ways of his fellow countrymen and the shame it would bring to the family and Kara. Nothing could be done except to marry her off. He had tried playing matchmaker around Castle Gate, but the prospects were fading fast. Unfortunately, the plain young woman did not attract even the most desperate of men. When Alex insisted that she had a good nature, all consideration left each man’s eyes. There was no use. Kara would either remain a spinster in a foreign land, or Alex would have to give in to his duty and forgo his will.

  “Every woman is blessed by marriage.” His father pointed the hand shovel at Alex. “And every man.”

  “Enough.” Alex’s temper boiled. “I married once. That is enough.”

  “Enough? What children do you have to show for it?”

  “Papa—” He seethed.

  His father stood up and tossed his shovel to the ground. “Do not talk to me about love again, Alex. Your momma will die a sick woman knowing you refuse to make that poor Kara an honest woman!”

  “Honest? She is your guest here, not mine.”

  “You choose hikes instead of church, and you fall for an American. How much can we take? Now I arrange a good match. This discussion is over.” Papa threw his hands in the air and strode back into the house, leaving his leeks waiting in the bucket.

  Alex sighed, resisting the urge to kick the bucket holding his father’s vegetables. Papa said everything was in the past. Yet all was left undone. Especially one matter that was of no concern to his father—his broken heart. How could he talk his heart out of loving a woman he’d never see again?

  He could not face Papa right now. He headed back down to the restaurant to work on his walking stick.

  The restaurant was quiet this afternoon. Sunshine poured through the pristine window he and Yanni had installed together.

  “Watch the zimaropita, Alex. I have to get to the grocer’s,” Momma said as she headed to the door, wrapping a scarf around her head.

  “Okay.” He pulled a chair into the flood of light pouring in, finding joy in the warmth, forbidding any other thought to torment him right now.

  Around three-thirty, Kara and the children appeared at the top of the hill beyond the coffeehouse. Alex tried to forget the woman who Kara replaced after school each day. Yet he could only imagine Leanna’s beauty blossoming all the more on a spring day like this.

  He abandoned the bright window and headed to the back table and sat with an unfinished hiking stick and his carving knife. The new bell on the door jingled as Maria and Teddy ran inside. Kara followed behind.

  “Hello, Thios Alex!” Teddy raced around the chairs and tables and called out to Maria, “I am first!” He disappeared through the kitchen door to the backyard, no doubt.

  “You are a weasel!” she called, not far behind him.

  “Good afternoon.” Kara smiled in her usual s
hy way, taking a seat across from him.

  “Hello. The sunshine creates little monsters this time of year.” He tossed his head toward the kitchen door then chuckled as he continued to carve.

  “Yes. The streets are very noisy back in my village once school is out,” Kara said, a wash of sorrow filling her face. She was plain, thin, and quiet. Poor Kara was as subtle as a mouse nibbling when it was time to eat, squeaking to be heard only when it was necessary. Mostly, she ducked in the shadows and seemed to spy everyone from a distance.

  Guilt tore Alex’s heart in two different directions. One was in his regret for allowing Leanna to leave without any information on how to reach her, and the other was his compassion for Kara. She’d traveled all this way, patiently waiting for his acceptance.

  He continued to slice off more and more of the knobby stick.

  “Are you making that for your Sunday walks?” she asked.

  He nodded, not looking up. His hikes had become filled with prayer and reading a Bible—or the Good Book as Tommy’s grandmother had said.

  Kara sat and watched as curled wood shavings hit the floor and the table. Alex grew agitated at the silence. He opened his mouth to speak, but the knife slipped and sliced his thumb.

  “Oh, no!” Kara sprang up and ran to the kitchen. She hurried back with a wet cloth and helped Alex wrap it around his gushing finger.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled. The searing pain lessened with pressure.

  “Are there any bandages?” Her eyes were big and round with concern.

  “Do not worry, Kara. It is just a cut.” He could not shake the tenderness in his voice.

  Didn’t she deserve to be cared for a little, though? In a way, he was the reason that she was one of three Greek women in this teeming town of bachelors. What would it hurt to show her some of the compassion that she was so ready to give him?

  A thin layer of fog fell early on Sunday. Alex crossed the street cautiously, dashing past the rear wheels of a rattling wagon.

  “Alex!”

  He looked over his shoulder. Kara ran up with one hand clutching the corners of a black head covering beneath her chin, and his hiking stick in her other hand.

  “You forgot this.” She handed him the stick. “It would be a shame to not use it after spending so much time working on it.”

  “Who told you to bring it?” Was this Momma’s scheme to get them together once again?

  Her brows dipped with hurt. “I just thought you’d miss it for your hike.”

  He tapped the stick on the ground. “I am sorry.”

  “Do you mind if I join you?” She lowered her eyes. “I don’t feel like sitting among all those men at church this morning.”

  He shrugged his shoulders then turned to hide a grimace. Only one person accompanied him on his hikes. First, she takes Leanna’s place in caring for the children, and now she is here with him on Sunday. Life was spinning like a top, and he had lost control of where it would stop.

  Perhaps this was the best thing, though. Replacing all those memories that tortured him day in and day out.

  They walked for a long while without speaking. The fog lifted once they started on the rocky path to the formation. Indian paintbrush speckled the grassy patches on either side of them—colorful freckles that brightened the otherwise stark landscape.

  As they trekked farther ahead, he barely looked at the place where he and Leanna had sat, and continued around the rock wall.

  “This is nice.” She wandered around the area, seeming to avoid crushing the pretty red wild flowers. “So different than the mountains back home, though.”

  “Yes. It feels like the desert here most summers.”

  “Why do you choose this place on Sundays, instead of church?”

  Alex was taken back by her forwardness. It was so unlike her. “I find God is closer here than anywhere else.”

  Kara stared at her feet. “I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “Not really.” She looked up and laughed. Her face gleamed. “But I see you when you return on these days, and you have some peace that you didn’t have before. So I guess, in a way, I see.” Her smile was more comforting than it had ever been.

  He grinned. “My peace doesn’t last long with my mother nagging and my father meddling in my affairs.”

  Her expression faded to one of distress. “It is all my fault.”

  “No.” Alex wished he could shovel it back in. “Don’t say that.” He enjoyed her smile much more than her frown. “They are like that always. Long before you arrived.”

  “I understand that,” she said. “Each parent has their specific way to irritate us.” She laughed again, and Alex couldn’t help but chuckle, too. “My mother nagged me the entire way to the boatyard. I guess she had good reason. I promised to run away as soon as—” Her eyes wobbled with regret.

  “Run away?” He raised his eyebrows in a teasing way. “So I am not the only one who did not agree to this arrangement wholeheartedly?”

  Kara shook her head quickly. She slumped down on a boulder, removing her head covering and tying it around her wrist. “If we weren’t struggling so much, I think my father would have allowed me to stay. But my dowry is not sufficient for the man who—” She bit her lip.

  He knelt down beside her. “Did you have another proposal?”

  “I am—was in love with another man,” she whispered.

  Alex smiled with a fresh wave of relief washing over him.

  “We were in love with each other,” Kara continued. “But his father expected a much larger dowry. There really was no hope for us—” She sniffled. “And then when your father began to correspond with us, Papa took it as a sign that there might be some future for me. America seems to promise such things to many people.”

  “Yes, I know America’s lure.” But how long ago that seemed now. Now that he had forgiven God and himself. “America has much.”

  “You fell in love with an American woman,” she blurted simply. As a fact.

  He nodded.

  “Perhaps we are meant to be together, Alex.” Her lip quivered. “Neither of us can promise our hearts to each other, but then again, we find ourselves here with much expectation from our families.”

  He grimaced. “To marry without love? Is that enough for you? I have married before. But you? Will you deny yourself love for the rest of your life?”

  Her face fell.

  Alex realized that he spoke a harsh admittance—that there was no chance at loving her. “I cannot promise love, Kara. I don’t know how to forget yet. Maybe one day, but memories are everywhere in Castle Gate.” He looked about the place, remembering how difficult it had been for Leanna to live here with memories of Jack. He understood her pain now. But his was worse, because they were both living and breathing, even if they were worlds apart. He clenched his jaw then relaxed it enough to say, “A marriage between us will only work if you are sure that love is not expected.”

  Alex stood up and shaded his face from the sun. He searched himself once more and knew for certain.

  He could marry again.

  But to love? That was impossible.

  Salt Lake City

  Leanna had bought a hat. A fine, simple hat—white as the temple in Salt Lake’s center, and nothing that would suit a coal town. Salt Lake City promised to be a refuge from all that she left behind, at least for a season. Now, an opportunity rose to leave behind more than just her past, but her very present.

  Leanna folded the letter, tossed it on her desk, then peeked down the hallway.

  Bethany bustled about the foyer, primping the bouquet of flowers in the alcove and calling out her final directions to the cook before the guests arrived.

  “Oh, hello, Leanna!” She waved a feather duster at her.

  “I’ll be out soon.” She quickly ducked back into her room, biting back a frown. How could she consider a position in San Francisco, now? Her cousin’s letter, offering her employment, had mentioned Leanna’s “dire predicamen
t among miners,” triggering the very thing Leanna had promised not to think on during these weeks at the Scotts—her changed opinion of Castle Gate.

  No matter the comfort of this tidy home, she lay her head on her pillow each night, wrestling with her longing to return to Castle Gate one last time. What would she do when she got there? Scold Mr. Coffey and beg Mr. Pappas to reconsider his own tradition? And then there was Alex—the greatest reason that she refused to think about Castle Gate. Alex’s dismissal had been as clear as the mountain sky. They were over. She could not expect anything more.

  Leanna sighed, pinning her loose locks beneath the wide-brimmed hat. An old dream might finally come true. She’d consider the offer from her cousin another day. Nothing could be said until Tommy moved to the next grade in school.

  She would not run away just yet.

  Bethany had become a dear friend, more than an employer. She even trusted her with all that happened in Castle Gate. And it seemed she valued Leanna’s friendship just the same, especially being married to such a man as Dr. Scott. Leanna might be more useful as a friend than a tutor around here. Bethany needed encouragement often as her self-esteem was at Dr. Scott’s mercy, just like their son’s.

  Tommy’s slate sat atop her desk, a stark black-and-white example of life under this roof. She picked it up and shook her head sadly. His letters were absolutely perfect. Just as expected by Dr. Scott. The poor boy had rubbed his fingers raw fixing them upon his father’s request.

  “This will have to wait.” She took the letter and tucked it in her drawer.

  “They are here, Leanna.” Bethany’s voice warbled with excitement outside her bedroom door.

  “I’ll meet you outside,” she said, pinching her cheeks and praying for peace—and patience.

  The french doors were propped open at the end of the hall, the scent of blooms drawing her to the gathering. The bricked patio was dressed with colorful potted plants and ivory, wrought-iron furniture. Bethany and her visitors had already taken seats around the table, and she motioned for Leanna to do the same.

  “Priscilla and Mildred,” she said, “I would very much like to introduce you to my good friend and Tommy’s tutor, Leanna McKee.”