A tall, slender woman adorned with a tight graying bun reached out her hand for a shake. “Very pleased to meet you. I am Priscilla Edmond. This is my younger sister, Mildred.”
A pretty young woman smiled brightly. “Very nice to meet you, Miss McKee.” Two dimples graced her cheeks, and her blue eyes sparkled.
Bethany began to serve lemonade in fine glasses. “Tell me, Miss Edmond, have you enjoyed your tour with St. Mark’s? I do hope that my husband treats the nursing students as kindly as he does the nurses, so I’ve been told.”
“I am certain Mildred hasn’t the time to converse with the doctors,” Priscilla spoke for her sister. “She has already begun classes.” She placed her glass on the table while her younger sister lowered her eyes, sipping her lemonade.
“As with all the physicians at St. Mark’s, Dr. Scott has a wonderful reputation.” Mildred stirred her lemonade with a spoon and glanced up with another smile. Her eyes danced as if they spoke of debuts and balls, not the nearby nursing program.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” Dr. Scott appeared at the door, and every woman straightened in her seat. His fists rested on his chest as he clutched the lapels of his waistcoat.
“Dear! Are your ears itching? We were just talking about you.” Bethany offered him a genuine smile.
“About me?” Dr. Scott returned a rare grin. “That must be quite a boring subject for such a pretty party as this.”
“Absolutely not,” the older sister said, much too seriously for such a conversation.
Mildred swatted at her hand, all the while keeping her eyes on the doctor. “Oh Sister, you must recognize when one speaks in jest. If you know Dr. Scott at all, you would realize he is quite the opposite of boring.” She giggled then turned her attention to Bethany. “Your husband gives quite an interesting lecture for our nursing class. A perfect mixture of seriousness and entertainment.”
“Entertainment?” The word slipped from Leanna’s mouth. How unlike his philosophy for strict instruction of his son. She gave Dr. Scott a respectful nod. “My perceptions of nursing school are certainly misguided.”
He clamped his lips above his smartly trimmed beard then puffed his chest a bit. “Entertainment might not be quite the right word, but it is a welcome challenge to teach beyond handwriting and simple arithmetic.” He cleared his throat. “I must tend to paperwork, ladies. Good day.” He bowed his head, spun around, and was gone.
Heat crawled up Leanna’s neck. Why had she spoken at all? It infuriated her that Tommy’s father was quick to criticize him—and her, it seemed. Was her work not valued at all? She picked up her glass and gave a sideways glance to Bethany as she sipped. There was nothing on her face to reveal she’d been offended. But then again, Leanna was certain that the only thing on Bethany’s mind was how to turn on her husband’s charm so effortlessly when guests were not present.
“A kiss good-bye.” Leanna muttered the subtitle of the newspaper article as she slowed her pace on the city sidewalk. More than a hundred young women were burned alive in a shirtwaist factory fire in New York City the day before, and the Salt Lake Tribune gave graphic detail to the horror of it all.
Women flung themselves to their deaths, chased by flames. The immigrant men, women, and children wept while waiting to discover if their loved ones had perished. The article sent daggers into Leanna’s soul, and the wailing she once heard from a Greek funeral in Castle Gate unleashed itself in her mind as she continued to read.
But her heart ceased to beat for a moment at the part of the article subtitled “A Kiss Good-bye.” She scoured the sentences with burning eyes:
They looked out of the window at the rapidly spreading flames and then the man enfolded the girl to his breast and pressed a kiss on her lips. She jumped to her death on the pavement below and he followed a moment later.
She looked up from the paper, regretful that she had continued reading. Crowds of people passed by in solemn quiet. Everyone knew what had occurred thousands of miles away.
If Leanna had returned to the East Coast, she was sure that she’d get caught up in the uproar this article would bring to her activist friends. No doubt they were planning now how to demand better working conditions in Boston. Her parents would have been appalled if she’d joined that effort—owning a large factory of their own.
Yet she’d rather stand here on this spring morning in the heart of Salt Lake City, thinking about the cruelty of her parents’ creed. It was better than what her heart begged her to dwell on—the two lovers who perished together. The two who kissed their last amid the flame.
A wicked fire stole away her love just the same—but by God’s grace, Alex lived. Even if they both left the fire unscathed, her heart was singed forever.
She hurried to church and settled in a pew. The incident was mentioned from the pulpit, and a prayer was spoken for the victims and their families. Leanna prayed for Castle Gate. Fresh gratitude spilled from her prayers as she thought about the time she spent in that town. Her heart softened there, and she’d learned much in the face of dangers similar to those faced by the New York victims—a mine was dangerous work, having stolen her husband, and the prejudice of certain men had proved nearly as dangerous.
Perhaps an article like this would stir their compassion, too?
She rolled her eyes for even considering that Mr. Coffey was capable of such a thing.
After the service, Sally Crawford came up beside her, wrapped her arm around her shoulders, and gave a squeeze. “Hello there, Leanna.”
“Hello.” She smiled at her friend. It was a relief to smile. “How are your nursing studies going?”
“They are progressing along. I see your employer often.” Sally searched Leanna’s face with a determined look. “Do you want to take a stroll?”
Leanna narrowed her eyes, wondering why she’d asked. They often walked together to the trolley stop out of habit. Sally hooked arms with her, gave a quizzical look, then tugged her along. The noise heightened with each step as a couple automobiles buzzed past carriages and the churches emptied onto the walks.
Sally pressed close, speaking beneath their hat brims. “Dr. Scott’s demeanor had me pay close attention to him these past weeks.”
“I have learned he might be quite a different man when he’s instructing you in nursing school,” Leanna said. “If he’s anything like he is at home, I wonder if you are crippled by his expectations.” Not any different than her own father, really.
Sally’s green eyes glistened in the bright spring sunshine. “At first, Dr. Scott’s stoicism was obvious when he assisted in demonstrations, as well as in his lectures. Mrs. Scott is a saint, isn’t she?”
“Bethany is a wonderful friend.” Leanna sighed. “And receives similar attention, or lack thereof from the doctor.”
“Lately though”—Sally flicked a glance at Leanna—“I’ve noticed that he is only a man of stone…to some.”
“What do you—” Her stomach dropped, not because of Sally’s words, but what she saw ahead: a familiar couple with a dark-haired woman by their side.
Penelope and Yanni.
“Sally, this must wait. I have someone to speak to….” She rushed through the crowd, desperate to talk with them. If she couldn’t return to Castle Gate, how wonderful to be able to speak with them right here in Salt Lake City. She had so many questions. Had they recovered from the fire? Was everything back to normal in Castle Gate? Were restaurant repairs under way? And—
Her mouth went dry. She slowed her pace.
What else would she discover? She shouldn’t find out. Three months was hardly enough time to mend her broken heart. Witnessing such tension in her employer’s marriage hadn’t helped her heal quickly. It only tempted her to regret all the love she’d given up and the person who’d let her go.
She approached the awning of the dress shop where Penelope chattered in Greek to the other woman. Just ahead, Yanni admired a parked automobile along the curb.
“Penelope?” Leanna’s
voice cracked, and she cleared her throat.
“Meesus McKee?” Penelope’s brown eyes widened, so similar to Maria’s. She looked back at the woman next to her, and Leanna realized what they had been admiring in the window. The shop was closed, but its display was obvious.
A wedding dress.
Was this the woman sent from Greece to marry Alex?
Leanna stumbled back. Yes, the photograph. It was the same woman.
Life had rolled forward for everyone. Just as it should have. The woman meant for Alex had arrived, hooking arms with Penelope as if they were—sisters.
She was right. She did not need to find anything out.
“I must go.” Leanna nodded quickly then spun on her heel.
Yanni’s voice called out, “Meesus McKee?” but she didn’t respond. How could she? It was much too obvious that she had intruded on a family outing.
And she was not a part of that family. Nor would she ever be.
Perhaps San Francisco was a wise place to go. At least she would have true family. Even if her cousin was closely knit to relaying information to her parents, at least she would not have to borrow kin. She’d done so with the Scotts, and she’d considered it with the Pappas family. Perhaps it was time to move on for good.
Everyone else appeared to be doing so.
Alex jaunted across the street, taking determined strides back to Salt Lake’s Greek neighborhood where he stayed with a friend. Tomorrow, he would ride the train back to Castle Gate. His heart was shadowed in defeat. He couldn’t bring himself to continue on this ridiculous venture.
What was the point?
At first, he had convinced himself that a trip to Salt Lake City was necessary. After all, he needed to find a new waistcoat for the wedding and Momma needed ingredients for Easter. Yanni reluctantly gave him the name of the shop where they had seen Leanna last Sunday.
Yesterday, he forwent enjoying a beautiful Saturday and boarded a train instead, staying the night with an old friend from his days in the copper mines. This morning, he stood at the corner near the dress shop and a busy trolley stop, keeping watch for a blond beauty.
Last time they saw each other, he’d kept his back to her and demanded that she leave. Would she ever know how much he still loved her? He must tell her before he closed his heart forever in an arranged, loveless marriage.
He could never marry Leanna, but he could not live in regret like he had with Helena. She had begged him not to leave Greece, and so he left a note before boarding a boat to Athens. He hadn’t known that he’d never see her again. He must share his heart with Leanna one last time and move forward with his life.
His pulse sped up when he saw her leaving the steps of a church, and she had no idea that he was there, watching. Leanna’s smile glowed from beneath an elegant hat, and she hooked elbows with another woman.
He began to slice through the crowd toward her. As he did so, he caught heated looks from miffed gentlemen and their china-doll wives, and he received the same narrowed stares as he had from Coffey and his friends.
A Greek in Castle Gate was frowned on in Salt Lake City, just the same.
“‘There is no darkness but ignorance,’” he muttered to himself. Then realization dawned on him like the bright light of the exit after rounding a curve in the dark mine.
He admitted the truth to himself. He partly hoped Leanna would convince him to forgo marrying Kara. To rekindle the plan to leave Castle Gate and prejudice behind and start life together—somewhere new.
But was there any such place? Salt Lake City was certainly not.
And besides, why would he expect Leanna, this beautiful woman who seemed happy and settled, to leave all this comfort for him? She’d done that once with Jack.
It seemed that both Leanna and he were given past mistakes to learn from and move forward. She had. Now he must.
Perhaps he was trapped by a different darkness—led down an ignorant path of his heart’s whim.
No, he couldn’t intrude once more on Leanna McKee.
“Alex Pappas?” The unwelcome voice of Anthis turned his head. He sat on a stoop with a newspaper spread out in front of him. “You come on a Sunday to pay me?”
“Pay you?” Alex sneered. “We are square, Anthis.”
The labor agent shrugged. “Well, then, tell me, when is the wedding? I have yet to receive an invitation.” He stood and folded the paper.
“It is next month,” Alex said, gritting his teeth. He hesitated then continued reluctantly, “We will be sure to send one.”
Anthis chuckled. “My, you don’t seem like an eager groom at all.” He let out a snort. “You are past due on one thing, and that is a family, Alex. One of your own, and in-laws. Perhaps, you will convince your bride’s family to come over, too? There’s no better place than America, is there, Alex?” He patted his shoulder.
And for once, Alex agreed with the man. Yes, America was his home and his family’s home. But why did he feel like a stranger to so many of his adopted countrymen? He’d become an unwelcome guest. Especially when love led him astray.
“You are proving my life motto,” Anthis continued. “Greeks are strong enough to carry on tradition no matter if it’s in the Uinta Mountains here or the Pindus range at home. You are a good man to marry that woman. Now bring her family here.” The agent rubbed his greedy fingers together. He no doubt counted his future profit right there on this Sabbath morning.
“One day, Anthis, you will go out of business,” Alex said, holding in his anger. “Greeks will come and find their own work and need nothing from you.”
“Let’s pray that day is far, far away.”
Alex left him. His need to speak with God increased each day. He was David, surrounded by enemies, heartbroken by his own folly.
He tried to convince himself that even if he believed that a future ahead would be free of Greek labor agents, old traditions, and American prejudice, he could not break free just yet.
The next day, he returned to Castle Gate and headed straight to bed. Sleeping was his best escape lately, and filling in for the foreman on the graveyard shift was a good excuse. After eating baklava left over from Sunday lunch, he headed to the restaurant to find Yanni.
“Maria, what are you doing?” Alex stood at the door to the kitchen. His niece was dancing with no music, her hand held out as if holding the hand of an imaginary playmate.
“I am dancing, Thios Alex.”
“I see that. But to what music?” He chuckled and leaned on the counter in front of him.
“The music in my head. I must practice for your wedding.” She put her arm down and stopped her dance steps. She bit her lip and asked, “Would you teach me to dance American?”
“Maria.” Alex swatted his hand, not only at her but at the memory stirred by her question. He swallowed hard, trying to dissolve the rush inside him.
“Perhaps if Meesus McKee comes to the wedding, she can teach me then.” Maria clasped her hands together out of delight. “I miss her so.”
“She is not coming,” Alex said firmly.
“Who will not come to what?” Yanni and Papa came in from the kitchen.
Heat filled Alex’s cheeks. “Come Yanni, we must go.”
Yanni picked Maria up under the arms, kissed her forehead, then set her down again. With a playful grin, he asked again, “Who?”
“Meesus McKee, to Thios Alex’s wedding.”
Papa looked at Alex then at Yanni. “Why would she think such things?”
“Meesus McKee was a friend to the family, Papa,” Yanni said quietly.
“Papou, she helped us. I love Meesus McKee.” Maria wrapped her arms around her grandfather’s waist. “She should come.”
Papa set his eyes on Alex. He lowered his brow and dipped his chin. “What do you say?”
“No. I cannot have her at the wedding.” Alex spoke as if he were under water. His mouth ached and his throat seared as he held back the emotion. He was up against a wall, containing an inevitable aval
anche.
“Of course not.” Yanni patted his shoulder. “Maria, that would not be fair to Alex or Leanna.”
“Fair?” Their father asked, not taking his eyes from Alex. “What do you mean?”
“Papa.” Yanni bounced his hands as if trying to physically lower the tension. “How would you like to show up to Momma’s wedding to another man?” He quirked his lip, as if he expected a laugh from his poor joke.
“Enough, Yanni. Let’s go.” Alex swiped his eyes, infuriated that he was being cast like one to be pitied.
“Love is learned,” Papa said. “Look at Yanni. He adores Penelope.”
“I loved her since I was five, Papa.”
Their father swatted a hand then pursed his lips as he walked back around the counter.
Alex picked up his pail of food and headed to the door. “Hurry, Brother. We will be late to the mine.”
Yanni said good-bye to Maria then followed him through the restaurant door.
“I am not sure if I should hit you or thank you,” Alex seethed.
“What?” Yanni shrugged his shoulders. “I stuck up for you. You should hug me.” He chuckled. They walked in silence across the street, past the coffeehouse entrance. “Did you not find her?” Yanni spoke on a long breath.
“Of course not. It is meant to be, this arrangement between Kara and me.” Alex kicked a rock in the road that skipped alongside the wall they passed.
“Love is not always learned.” Yanni groaned. “I am sorry, Alex. But perhaps you can get her address from the banker; he’s her employer’s father, no?”
“I saw her, Yanni.”
“You did?” His brother stopped walking, his mouth hanging open. “Did you speak to her?”
“No, I did not. There is too much against us, isn’t there? What good is it to send Momma to an early grave and stir up more anger toward our life here?”
“It is a shame.” Yanni shook his head.
“It’s okay. I have peace now.” Or he was begging God to bring him peace. Surely it would come after the ceremony, when everything was done. “I am marrying Kara. That is a fact.”
My Heart Belongs in Castle Gate, Utah Page 20