He rose and touched her wet cheek. “Don’t cry.”
She smiled. “They are tears of joy and a few of surprise that something so wonderful could happen to me.”
“I feel some of that same surprise.” He glanced toward the house. “So you will marry me right away?”
This made her laugh. “The sooner the better.”
“Then I must speak with Mrs. Madison. It seems to me these bridal balls are held for just such a purpose. Would you mind so terribly if we were to marry next Friday night at the ball?”
She shook her head. “I would like that very much.”
For a moment he looked as if he’d changed his mind. “You do know that I haven’t much to my name. I have a very small apartment that I lease. I have little of value and cannot promise you I will ever be a man of comfortable means.”
“I don’t care. I’ve never had anything. Not even love. Now I have that, and it makes me feel rich. I can do a great many things and am not afraid to work. If you aren’t ashamed of having a wife who holds employment, I shall be more than happy to seek a position. Then, perhaps if your apartment is too small, we might get something a little larger. However, I cannot imagine a small space uncomfortable if I’m sharing it with you.”
He pulled her close and Militine glanced toward the house. “You’ll get a severe reprimand if Mrs. Madison or the others catch sight of you holding me like this.”
“It would be worth that and more.” He pressed her lips with a kiss that she thought might be nothing more than a brief peck. Instead, he pulled her closer and held her tighter, kissing her until she felt light-headed from lack of breath. When he released her, she could see he was just as affected by the kiss as she.
“I’ll go . . . now . . . and talk to Mrs. Madison,” he said, the words seeming to stick in his throat.
“I’ll come with you. That way there will be no mistaking whether I am in agreement.” Militine began to walk away and then looked back over her shoulder. “Because I am definitely in agreement. As far as I’m concerned, Friday cannot come soon enough.”
“I have to say that I’m much obliged to being invited to share tea with all of you. I’m just sorry I didn’t have anything fitting to wear.” James Cunningham attempted to brush some dirt from his well-worn suit coat, casting a glance at Wade’s immaculate coat.
“You have no need to apologize,” Aunt Miriam said, looking down her long straight nose at him. She had once been a schoolteacher and knew how to take command. “We are enjoying a casual afternoon, and there is no need to concern yourself.”
Abrianna picked at the folds of her pale blue muslin dress. How very awkward the entire affair was to her. She knew this man as Mr. Bowes. She’d offered him food and encouragement, never even suspecting that he could be more to her than one of her charity cases.
They were sitting on the front porch of the bridal school sipping the tea that Aunt Poisie had served before joining the group. The entire purpose of the visit was to determine whether this man was who he said he was, but something inside told Abrianna it was all true. She could see something in his eyes that reminded her of her own reflection. Was it real, or was she just imagining it, hoping that her deepest desires had been answered at least in part? For, of course, her mother could never be returned to her.
Abrianna watched her father handle the cup and saucer with discomfort. It was clear to her that he was out of his element, and the fine china only served to drive home that point. At the food house they had mugs for the men to use. Perhaps she should offer to trade his cup and saucer for one just now.
“Miss . . . Abrianna,” he said, turning his attention to her, “I am very sorry for the start I gave you. It was wrong of me not to break the news in a more gentle fashion. I’m afraid, however, when I heard that man being so rude to you, I couldn’t . . .” He fell silent. His face paled just a bit as he pointed to the small seed pearl pin she was wearing at the neck of her lacy bodice.
“I gave that pin to your mother.” He shook his head. “I never thought to see it again.” The shock seemed to wear off, and he smiled. “I worked for over six months doing odd jobs and extra hours at the lumber camp just so I could afford to give her something special for our anniversary.”
Abrianna couldn’t stop the flow of tears that came. He truly was her father. It wasn’t a cruel joke or a case of mistaken identity. Wade reached over and gave her arm a squeeze. She looked at him and smiled. Only he knew how much this meant to her. She hadn’t even discussed this with her aunts, for fear of hurting their feelings. They had been such dears to adopt and raise her, and in spite of their often trying to thwart her plans, Abrianna knew how much they loved her. But this man was her father. Her own flesh and blood.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart.” Her father extended a rather dirty handkerchief.
Abrianna didn’t give it a second thought. She took the cloth and dabbed at her cheeks. “I can scarcely believe this has happened.”
“Well, now that it has, and we know for certain you are who you claim to be,” Aunt Miriam began, “what is to come of it?”
The man looked to her aunts and then back to Abrianna. “I don’t know. I guess that depends on Abrianna. I don’t want anything from her, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just wanted to see her again, to know her. She takes after her mother in size. But I’m afraid that red hair comes from my side of the family. Her grandmother had the same red curls.
“Goodness, at least we now know where that came from,” Aunt Poisie declared as if an important mystery were finally resolved. “We have pondered that red hair for many years, and at times it has quite vexed us.”
“It’s true,” Aunt Selma added. “We knew her mother had curls, but of course she was not a redhead, and she said nothing of your hair.”
He reached up to touch his thinning gray-brown hair. “What’s left of it is the same color as my pa’s. There’s a bit of curl to it, or at least there used to be. My ma and pa were always glad I took after him, but I secretly wished I had red hair like my mother. She was a real beauty, and Abrianna looks a lot like her.”
Hearing her father call her a beauty like her grandmother caused a strange sense of pride to rise up in Abrianna. There had been some people who had told her she was pretty, but she’d never believed them. Hearing her father speak of his mother, however, allowed her to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there were those who could appreciate her type of beauty. As Mr. Welby had mentioned regarding art, she could very well be someone’s Rembrandt or Monet.
They talked for over an hour before Aunt Miriam finally stood. Abrianna’s father rose immediately, as did Wade. They were men of great respect, and Aunt Miriam had a commanding presence.
“Mr. Cunningham, I cannot see you returning to whatever dockside home you have managed to find. I would like, with the approval of my sister and dear friend, to offer you the room in the carriage house. We have not yet taken a groomsman, and you would be most welcome to the space.”
“I could handle your horses for you,” he offered. “Earn my keep.”
“We haven’t any as of yet,” Aunt Selma explained. “We do have a large omnibus ordered. Mr. Ackerman is making it for us.”
“Rather slowly, due to helping Abrianna every day but Sunday at the food house,” Wade explained. “I hope to have it to them by the end of the week, maybe sooner.”
“We thought to wait on getting a team of horses until we actually had the wagon for them to pull,” Aunt Miriam explained.
“I used to be a good judge of horseflesh. Perhaps you’d allow me to help you pick out a team,” Abrianna’s father told the ladies.
“Why don’t we retire indoors and discuss it? I’m afraid the warmth of the day is leaving me rather uncomfortable. We have a parlor that maintains a very cool temperature, even on days like this.” Aunt Miriam looked to Aunt Poisie and Aunt Selma. “Shall we?”
“Indeed, Sister. I was about to succumb to the vapors myself.” Aunt
Poisie stood and bobbed a smile in Wade’s direction. “You are more than welcome to join us.” She looked quickly to her sister, as if suddenly concerned she had overstepped her bounds.
“Of course you are welcome.”
“I think I’ll just sit here a bit longer with Abrianna,” Wade replied. “But thank you for the offer.”
The older folks departed for the coolness of the parlor, and Abrianna took the opportunity to let out a sigh. “Can you believe it? It’s like something out of a novel. I could never have hoped that my father was alive after all this time.”
“It is a wonder, to be sure.”
“Goodness, I know nothing about his likes and dislikes. I don’t know where he grew up or spent his boyhood years. I don’t know if he likes white bread or dark. I don’t have any indication if he expects me to call him Papa or go on with Mr. Bowes. Oh, surely he wouldn’t expect that, do you think?” She looked at Wade but gave him no chance to answer.
“I must say these last few weeks have had my head spinning. The ordeal with Pastor Walker caused me such grief and the courtship of Mr. Welby left me positively questioning everything I’d known up until now and then comes my father.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe I could stand for any more surprises.”
“Speaking of Mr. Welby,” Wade said in a cautious tone, “I understand you two had an outing the other night.”
She nodded, uncertain if that was disapproval in his tone. She knew he had misgivings about Mr. Welby. She’d had plenty herself. He had behaved like a gentleman, at least for the most part, on their outing, and so she was determined not to speak against him.
“He escorted Aunt Poisie and me to the theatre and then to a late supper at a very fine restaurant—the name escapes me now.” She struggled to remember, but the name wouldn’t come. “It was all a lot of stuff and nonsense, and I couldn’t help thinking the money could have been much better spent in helping the poor. However, it was a lovely evening, and Mr. Welby was a perfect escort.”
“You do know that he has been known for a great many underhanded dealings around town, don’t you? I mean, I have tried to mention some of my concerns to you prior to this.”
“I remember, but I don’t want to misjudge him. Those stories could be false, and even if they are true, perhaps he has changed in the last year.”
Wade’s eyes narrowed. “Do you have feelings for him?”
“Goodness, no. He tells me he’s quite besot with me, but I cannot conjure up even a decent feeling of friendship, much less of ardor. He tells me he will convince me in time, that he has the ability to woo me and win my heart, but grief, Wade, I simply haven’t the heart to tell him that he . . . well . . . I just don’t believe it will happen.”
Wade looked relieved. “I don’t, either. He’s not at all the type of man you could be happy with. He is power hungry and desires to have a name of importance here in Seattle.”
“Well, I suppose having a respected name is not something I can fault him for. Aunt Selma is always saying one’s name is important and one should do whatever one can to keep it held in high regard. Although I will say having a name like Priam doesn’t conjure up regard in my mind. Where do you suppose such a name comes from?”
“I have no idea. Neither do I care. I care about you, Abrianna. I don’t want to see you hurt or . . . compromised. If he were to try anything untoward, I’m afraid I might well break his neck.”
His words first shocked and then amused her. “Oh, you are so silly. You wouldn’t do something so awful. I’ve known you far too long to believe you capable of anything so base.”
“Just know this, Abrianna. I care very deeply about you.” His voice seemed edged with emotion, but for the life of her, Abrianna couldn’t understand why he was so worried. “I promise you that I will always be here for you should you need me, even if it’s just to talk.”
She popped up from her chair and placed a customary kiss on his cheek. “Stuff and nonsense. I know that. You are my very best friend in all the world. I am so blessed to have you in my life. You are kind to me and gentle in your rebukes. Well, most of the time.” She smiled down at him and touched his cheek. “I care very deeply about you, just as you do me. God gave us to each other for comfort and assurance, encouragement and support. I cherish that, Wade, and want nothing to ever come between us—even my ill temper.” She paused. “Or when I disobey and you think me foolish, or when I sneak out to tend to business that you find less than important. I didn’t mention it, but just the other night—”
Wade got to his feet and put his finger to her lips. “Enough. You’ve already aged me a dozen years with this food kitchen endeavor and your courtship of Mr. Welby. Pray do not bring up your hidden deeds to further my worries, otherwise I might be tempted to do something we would both regret.”
She pushed away his hand and raised her brow in question. “Like stop being my friend?”
“Hardly. I was thinking more of giving you a spanking.”
And in truth, Wade couldn’t help but wonder if that was exactly what was needed. The old ladies had never laid a hand on her. Punishment was meted out in sending Abrianna to her room or denying her something that was important to her. Unfortunately for them, Abrianna easily adjusted and never seemed overly put upon no matter what was taken from her. Objects didn’t mean that much, while her freedom was everything. That and her notion of what God wanted from her.
Wade kept mulling this over and over as he made his way back to his shop and the quiet little room near the docks. It was the Lord’s Day, so he wouldn’t work on any of his projects, but perhaps if he spent some quiet time in prayer, he might come up with some answers as to why he felt like he’d just fallen off a cliff.
To his surprise, Thane stood leaning against his door awaiting his arrival.
“I thought you were spending the day with Militine.”
A grin spread from ear to ear as he pushed off from the door. “I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”
“What? So soon?”
“It’s never too soon when you know you’re in love.”
Wade unlocked the shop and stepped inside before asking, “And how can you be so sure it’s the right kind of love, a marrying kind of love?”
Thane followed him inside and laughed. “Because she’s all I think of these days. When I’m at work I think of how wonderful it will be to leave and go help out at the food house, because then I’ll see her again. When I’m with her, all I want is to go on being with her. And when I kissed her this afternoon, I felt I might well explode in joy.”
“Abrianna makes me want to explode, but not necessarily in joy,” Wade muttered, not really wanting to discuss it with his friend but also not able to remain silent on the subject.
“That’s because you’re in love with her,” Thane said directly.
Wade looked at him and shook his head. “I can’t be in love with her.” It was a hard lie to speak, but he feared if he said otherwise, Thane would only encourage the matter.
Thane grinned. “It’s a good thing you don’t perform on the stage. You’re terrible at lying.”
Wade pushed back his hair. He knew Thane could see right through his protests. “She’s courting Priam Welby, of all creatures. So it matters little what I feel for her. She’s not in love with me.”
“Then perhaps you should persuade her to be. Why hand her over to Welby? We both know he will only hurt her in the long run. If you love her as much as I think you do, you will fight for her. Maybe you should marry her.”
Wade felt a rush of confusion and fear. What if she could never love him that way? Love him the way a wife would love a husband, with a heart of devotion and desire. He did his best to shrug off the emotions. He wasn’t about to let this control him.
“There are a lot of kinds of love, Thane. I do love Abrianna. She’s precious to me, and I intend to keep her safe if I can. But just because I love her doesn’t necessarily mean I should marry her.”
Thane sho
ok his head, as if not believing a word of it. “Well, maybe, my friend, you need to reconsider what it does mean.”
19
Thursday, June sixth, found the bridal school in a flurry of activity. “No one has retrieved the trunk of costumes,” Aunt Miriam declared. “I must say that with all these affairs of Abrianna courting Mr. Welby and the reappearance of her father, I had quite forgotten about them, and the rosettes we need are surely to be in that trunk.”
“Oh dear.” Aunt Poisie shook her head in a most sad manner. “We are doomed to failure.”
“Nonsense, Sister. Not failure, but it will spoil some of my plans. I recall that those large rosettes of red, white, and blue are also in that trunk.”
Aunt Poisie continued to shake her head. “A tragedy.”
“Don’t fret so. I will attend it after feeding the poor,” Abrianna told her. “I’ll have Wade walk us over, and Militine and I can bring back the trunk on the streetcar.”
Aunt Poisie put her hands together, her expression changing to glee. “We are saved!”
“I suppose I will have to allow for it,” her aunt replied. “We must not ask Wade, however. He is busy finishing our omnibus and plans to deliver it this afternoon. And your father is off with Selma looking at horses up north.” She went to her purse. “Here is the fare. Pray do not tarry and, Militine, you will go with her. Perhaps once you find the trunk, Mr. Welby can drive you both home. If so, I would prefer that. I do not like the thought of you on the streetcars like common . . . common . . . well, unescorted females on the streetcar can be dangerous.”
Abrianna kissed her aunt’s cheek. “We will be back before you know it. Oh, and I’ve already told the men that there will be only bread and cheese tomorrow. Wade said he would go down and hand it out so Militine and I might stay here and help with the last-minute touches for the ball.”
“That’s awfully good of him. He is such a dear man. I keep thinking one of our young ladies might do for him, but he never shows any interest.”
Refining Fire Page 19