Elizabeth did as he suggested. She folded her hands in her lap and then let go a sigh. “Is he dead?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Is anyone else?”
“No. No one else was hurt. Your husband denied everything, of course, but when he saw that the evidence against him was too strong, he . . . well . . . he shot himself.”
Elizabeth didn’t seem at all surprised by the news. She lowered her gaze and sighed again. “I’m so glad he didn’t hurt anyone else.”
“The authorities arranged to have his body taken to an undertaker. Ernst Eckhardt said he would pay to have him buried. I’m sure Pastor Clearwater would say a few words over him.”
“Frederick wouldn’t want that. He didn’t believe in God.”
“I know, but we do. Pastor Clearwater’s words will be for us,” Ian said lightly, touching her shoulder.
Elizabeth looked up to reveal tears in her eyes. “I know it may sound silly, but I am sad that he is dead. He never had a chance to make peace with God. I can’t imagine anything more tragic than losing one’s soul.”
“We all have a choice to make,” Ian said. “Von Bergen made his, just as you made yours. It isn’t what any of us wanted for him—or for you, but it is done and we must put it in God’s hands.”
She nodded, and Ian’s mother came to hug her as Ian stepped away. “I’ll go get Phoebe and Kenny.”
“Wait,” Elizabeth said, getting to her feet. “Send Kenny to me, but you go ahead and tell Phoebe. She’ll be able to be by herself without worrying about how Kenny or I am taking the news. This will probably be harder on her than the rest of us—after all, she still loved him.”
Ian nodded and exited the kitchen. He had wanted to see Phoebe ever since Von Bergen pulled the trigger. He wanted to assure himself that she was alive and well. That her father’s anger and betrayal could no longer reach her. It was silly, he knew, because she was safely hidden, but it had bothered him nevertheless.
“Phoebe? Kenny?” He called to them as he entered the back of the shop.
Kenny came running. “I’m glad you’re back.” He hugged Ian around the waist. “Did the police take my . . . father to jail?” He pulled back to face Ian.
“Kenny, your mother wants to tell you all about it. You need to go to her.”
“But—”
“Kenny, please go to Mutter. She probably needs you right now,” Phoebe said. She stood just beyond them in the opening to the main part of the shop.
Kenny seemed to understand the gravity of the matter. He left without another word while Ian stood unable to look away from Phoebe. She was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, yet there was a softness to her expression and a peace about her that hadn’t been there when he first met her. God had a way of doing that for people.
“Tell me what happened.”
Ian led her into the shop and to the chair that she’d sat in the night before. Ian had positioned it to the left of his worktable so she could watch him facet the stone that would be used in her wedding ring. She did not yet know about its intended purpose. She had, however, been able to turn the crank for him, since his left hand was useless for the time being.
“I never wanted to be one to give you bad news,” Ian said, sitting at his table. “You’ve had a lot of bad over the years, and I want to be the one who gives you only good.”
“No matter what,” she said, reaching across him to take hold of his right hand, “I feel safe with you, Ian. Whatever you have to tell me . . . well . . . I know it will be all right. I would rather have the truth, painful though it might be, than a lie.”
He knew she understood exactly how important that was to him as well. Ian breathed a prayer and then told her of the situation they’d faced and all that had been said. She took the news fairly well, although Ian could see that it wasn’t without its toll.
“It’s hard to imagine Vater gone,” Phoebe said, finally letting go of his hand. She leaned back against the chair. “I never wanted this for him.”
“No one did. I think we all just wanted justice.”
“Someone will have to telegraph Dieter. He’ll be devastated.” She shook her head. “But maybe not. I can’t say that I even know Dieter’s heart. He’s so long been distant and unreachable. I know that was Vater’s doing, but Dieter may be unable to change at this point.”
“I’ve learned that if a man is willing to change, God can make it possible.”
Phoebe nodded. “I suppose Vater never wanted to change.” She bit her lip and shook her head.
“We can see how your mother wants to handle it. She might prefer sending Dieter the news herself.”
“Poor Mutter. How did she handle it?”
“She did well, although she wasn’t without tears. She grieves the loss of his soul more than anything.” He shrugged. “Your mother is a good woman. I can’t say I even thought about his soul.”
Phoebe nodded. “I know. I was just thinking that myself.”
“Actually, I’ve thought about little else but you.” This brought a smile to her face. A sad smile that Ian knew was bittersweet.
“I was so worried something might happen to you, Ian. I never really thought about anything bad happening to Vater—just you. I could hardly bear the wait. I wanted to run to the trolley and make my way to the hotel just to make certain he hadn’t hurt you.” She paused, and tears dampened her lashes. “I know that sounds silly. I doubt there’s much I could have done if my vater had attacked you.”
“Maybe not, but I’m glad you care. You’ve become a very important part of my life.”
“Of course I have,” she said, her tone teasing. “You need me to work for you—turn the crank until your hand heals.”
Ian shook his head. “No. I would never let you work for me.”
Her expression changed, and she looked almost hurt. Ian only smiled. “You can’t work for me, but I would love to have you work with me—as my wife.”
“Ian Harper, if this is your awkward way of proposing to me, then I accept.” She wiped at her tears.
“Well, it’s not exactly the way I had it planned out in my mind, and my timing is definitely not the best, but I’m grateful to you for accepting. I’m not sure I could have come up with anything flowery or sentimental to say.” He got to his feet and extended his good hand to her.
Phoebe put her hand in his and rose. “I don’t need sentimental words,” she said. “I don’t need flowers or anything—just you. I feel as though my entire world has gone topsy-turvy with Vater dead and Mutter alive. One brother lost to me, another one gained.” She shook her head. “I don’t suppose any of this will make sense for a very long time.”
“No, I don’t suppose it will.” Ian could see the sadness in her eyes. “You know, Phoebe, it’s all right for you to mourn your father. No one will hold that against you. He did some bad things, no doubt about it, but I know you were once close to him.”
“As close as he ever let anyone be.”
“I just want you to know that I understand. I was so brokenhearted when Nora died, knowing she had betrayed my trust not just once or twice. At the same time I had lost what for me felt like the only love I would ever have.” He dropped his hold on her hand. “But for a long time I wouldn’t allow myself to mourn her, because my anger got me through the pain. Or so I thought. Instead, when the anger subsided and the reality of my loss settled in, the pain was even more acute. I wouldn’t want to see you make that same mistake.”
She nodded. “Thank you for your counsel. I promise I will take it to heart. I think initially, I’d just like to have some time to myself. You see, I was taught since I was a little girl to keep my feelings inside and to deal with them in private.”
“But no one expects that of you now. I want you to share your feelings.”
She reached up and touched his cheek. “Give me time, Ian. I promise you . . . I will. I want very much to share everything with you.”
25
On the day they laid Phoebe’s father to rest there was a definite change in the air. The warmth of summer seemed altered—not really chilly, but changed. People were already talking of signs pointing to an early winter, despite the fact that it was still August. Phoebe stood beside her mother and Kenny, listening to Pastor Clearwater speak. Ian and his mother stood beside them, lending support as they had from the beginning. The only other person to join them was Ernst Eckhardt.
The stigma of suicide caused people, especially good Christian people, to create a fuss about whether or not an unsaved soul who had taken his own life could be buried in hallowed ground. Pastor Clearwater said it was an archaic notion and that he for one would leave judgment of such things up to God. That, however, hadn’t sat well with the church congregation, and the board had told him they would not accept having Frederick Von Bergen buried in their church cemetery. Pastor Clearwater had assured Phoebe’s mother that he would go against the board of the church, the congregation, and all of Helena if necessary to see Frederick Von Bergen buried in the churchyard if that was her desire. Mutter knew it would only serve to cause division and strife, however. And given the fact that Vater would never have wanted a church service anyway, Mutter had accepted a different solution. He would be buried on a small piece of land provided by Ernst Eckhardt. The property, he had told them, would never be used for anything else, and due to its location, he doubted anything or anyone would ever disturb the site.
“The choices we make in life are often made in haste and without consideration of the future. At times our choice is to run away from our ordeal.” The pastor looked at Phoebe’s mother and smiled. Then he looked back at the closed casket. “And running away can take many forms. I didn’t know this man well, but we can rest assured that God did, and rather than dwell on the negative aspects of what this man did or didn’t do, what he believed or didn’t believe, I’m here today in support of his wife and children.
“Let us not allow Satan a foothold in our hearts and minds. In the past there were places of pain and misery. There were times of unbearable grief and loss. You must choose for yourself where you will put your mind and heart. I would encourage you to look forward and forget that which is behind. Make a new start—let God do something new and wonderful in your lives.” He smiled. “Let us pray.”
Phoebe bowed her head and thought on the words the pastor had spoken. It had been hard to come to terms with all that had happened. Despite her father’s heinous actions, Phoebe knew bitterness and anger would serve no good purpose. She couldn’t see starting a new life with Ian until those haunting thoughts were laid to rest, and because of that, she intended to leave them here.
When the prayer was concluded, Phoebe waited with her mother and Georgia while Mr. Eckhardt, the pastor, Ian, and even Kenny worked together to lower the casket into the grave. After this task was complete they shed their coats, then took up shovels and began to toss dirt in to fill the hole.
“I’m sure Frederick figured to have some grand funeral upon his death,” Mutter said, looking at Phoebe. “I’m sure he figured to live until a ripe old age and die in his bed and be heralded as a grand nobleman.”
“I would imagine so,” Phoebe replied.
“It’s funny the thoughts we have for our deaths,” Ian’s mother added. “Sometimes I think people worry more about that than living life. I for one don’t intend to give it a second thought. When I die, I die, and those who are left will arrange for me. I hope it’s a grand celebration where people remember me fondly and enjoy large quantities of delicious food.”
Phoebe smiled. “The church folks would really be upset if that happened.”
“Those ninnies.” Mrs. Harper shook her head. “Sometimes I don’t know what gets into folks. Ground is ground. A grave is a grave. Being next to a church isn’t what makes a place holy. Goodness, there have been many churches standing in close proximity to the saloons.”
“But none of that matters,” Mutter said. “I’m rather glad Frederick is buried out here. I would hate to have to look at his grave every time I came to church. I’m afraid I would never be able to let go of the past, as Pastor Clearwater said we should, if I had to face that and the unhappy people of the church. No, this is a much better place for him to be. Even Dieter approved.”
“I’m glad he responded to your telegram.” Phoebe took hold of her mother’s arm. “I’m sure the news was hard to hear, both of Vater’s death and of your being alive. I hope one day he will come and visit us.”
Mutter nodded. “I do too. I love all of my children, and it would be sad to have him be unwilling to be a part of my life.”
“Perhaps you will visit him,” Mrs. Harper encouraged.
“I believe one day I will,” Mutter replied. “One day when Kenny is older, it would be good for him to see the estate and know about his father’s land.”
“I’ve already been teaching him German,” Phoebe said in a rather conspiratorial manner. “He thinks it’s great fun and hopes to surprise you, so do not mention that I told you.”
Her mother smiled and nodded. “I shall be quite surprised.”
When the grave was filled and covered with rocks to keep animals away, the funeral party headed back to town. Normally the church ladies would have inundated the house with food in order to lessen the workload of the mourners, but in this case they hadn’t. Apparently such kindnesses were also questionable where suicide was involved. Instead, Ian’s mother had prepared a meal for them prior to leaving for the burial, and after Ernst Eckhardt bid them good-bye at the train station, they made their way to the house.
No one seemed inclined to speak on much of anything and instead went about ferrying food to the dining room table. Even Ian and Kenny helped. Once everything was done, Ian led them in prayer, then urged everyone to dig in. To Phoebe it seemed a marvelous arrangement. She had never known a home to be filled with as much love as was the Harper household. She started to think back to times when she was a little girl—before her mother had gone away—but then chided herself to forget the past. What mattered now was the future.
“I still don’t understand why you two aren’t getting married until October,” Mrs. Harper said after finishing her dessert. “After all, there’s absolutely nothing standing in your way now.”
Ian and Phoebe exchanged a smile. “Good things are worth waiting for. Besides, it’s just a little over a month, and as much as I want to marry this beautiful young woman, I believe her reasons for waiting are sound. We will put all of this death and dying behind us, she will have a lovely gown made for our wedding, and all of you will put your heads together to create a very fussy wedding with flowers and ribbons and bows.”
“And lots of people,” Kenny declared. “’Cause everybody knows you and Grandma Harper.”
Ian laughed. “He’s absolutely right. We do know just about everybody.”
“And, of course, Ian and Kenny are going to fix up the shop house so we can live there after our wedding,” Phoebe added, giving Ian a smile that all but made him change his mind about waiting. She had no idea how she stirred his heart, and that only made her all the more precious to him.
That evening Ian and Phoebe slipped outside to sit on the porch together, much to Kenny’s disappointment. Even as they took a seat, they could hear Elizabeth.
“Kenny Bergen, you march yourself upstairs and take a bath. After that, I will let you stay up for another hour. Just think of it, you can spend that time drawing those houses you like to draw.”
“But I want to have fun with Phoebe and Ian,” the boy protested.
Phoebe giggled as Ian put his arm around her shoulder. “I doubt he’d enjoy our kind of fun quite so much,” Ian murmured against her ear.
“I think I shall always cherish these times,” Phoebe said with a sigh.
“I know I will. But I think I’m going to cherish every moment of every day with you.” He loved the way she fit perfectly against him—loved the way she smelled—loved everything a
bout Phoebe Von Bergen. She sighed, and it made him smile. She was just as happy in that moment as he was.
He couldn’t help but remember it wasn’t that long ago that Phoebe had been subjected to her father’s rage. That memory made him frown. “You know,” he began, “I’ve never asked you how you’re doing . . . I mean in light of your father and how he treated you. Not to mention the men who tried to kill you.”
Phoebe sat up and gave him a look of confusion. “What do you mean?”
“The beating you took. It seems to me that would leave you fearful—especially of men.”
She shook her head. “My vater had never hit me until that first slap. Then the beating happened without warning. I honestly never believed him capable of hurting me.” She looked away as if trying to figure out what to say. “I was always taught that showing emotion wasn’t proper, and so I learned to bury things deep within.”
Phoebe finally turned back to Ian. “I know it may sound strange, but I still can’t believe those things of Vater. I know it in my head, but I guess I spent a great deal of time ignoring his bad behavior with others so that when it came to me, it seemed completely out of his character. At least the character I’d let myself see. As for those other men, I can honestly say that it happened so fast, it still doesn’t seem real. I’ve always been a sensible and cautious person, because that was what was expected of me. Reason tells me that most men aren’t violent; otherwise, I’d see more proof of that. I suppose I could be wrong, but I’m honestly not afraid of the future. Especially where you are concerned.” She smiled and eased back into his arms.
“I’m glad. I would never hurt you,” he promised.
For a time neither one said anything. Ian was content to simply sit there and enjoy the evening and dream of the days to come. Phoebe filled a void that he’d carried for so many years. A void he hadn’t really even acknowledged.
“So, do you think your mother will be able to convince mine to move into this house with her? I mean permanently and not just for a night or two.”
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