Colorado Courtship

by Cheryl St. John

“I saw my father when he was much younger, as plain as I see you. He looked just like he used to when I was young.”

  “What was his name?”

  Violet paused a moment. She couldn’t help a soft smile. “Latham.”

  He paused. “I’ve inscribed a lot of names on stones. And I’ve read a lot more while visiting cemeteries. I don’t remember seeing Bennett used as a Scandinavian name.”

  She dropped her gaze. “No, I guess it’s unusual.” She straightened her spine and glanced around. “So there they are.”

  Ben Charles turned and she followed him. The side of the stable they’d entered into held stalls, where the black horses waited impatiently, snorting and shaking their heads. At the far side stood two fine black hearses adorned with gilded side lamps, the covered buggy and a wagon.

  “We’ll let the horses into the corral while I clean stalls. You can fill grain buckets. I’ll break the ice on the water barrel out back, and you can fill their pails.” He rolled back the enormous rear door a few feet.

  The Morgans seemed eager to be released and shot out the opening one at a time. Ben Charles set empty buckets outside the stalls and shoveled out the soiled straw.

  Violet accomplished her task of filling grain and water, and then joined him in finishing the stalls and spreading fresh straw. Even though she’d pulled on wool mittens, her fingers were soon cold.

  It was dark by the time Ben Charles went out and herded the animals back inside. He lit a lantern. Violet remembered which stall each had occupied and stood behind the open gates one at a time, directing. Once they were safely contained, she entered the first stall to acquaint herself.

  “That’s Clarence. He’s the one—”

  “You brought when you picked me up at the station,” she interrupted.

  “I’m impressed.”

  She spoke softly to the gelding, pulled off her mittens and ran her cold hands over its neck. One by one, she introduced herself to each of the others: Felix, Gaston and Lancelot. “Has Tessa ridden at all?”

  “When she was younger. Not for some time.”

  “Is Lancelot a good match for her?”

  “Each has a good temperament, but he’s the best choice, I think. We’d best get back. I’m hungry.”

  Violet wanted to stay longer, but she gave Lancelot a final pat and joined Ben Charles.

  “Thank you for helping. The task was accomplished quickly.”

  She tugged on her mittens. “It was my pleasure. Really.”

  He picked up the lantern, and shadows swayed with the movement. “I’m not used to having a beautiful woman in my stable.”

  His eyes showed his good humor and sincerity. Her cheeks warmed at the unexpected compliment. Beautiful?

  “Was that too forward of me?” he asked.

  “I—” She glanced away. “You surprised me is all.” She moved away, but paused before reaching the door and glanced up at him. “When the weather clears, I hope it will be all right for me to come and go in my free time.”

  “Perfectly all right. I told you this is your home, and I meant it.”

  Her gaze traveled over his shoulder. Though the stable was dark now, she imagined the hearses sitting side by side, as though awaiting their next unfortunate occupants. She shivered.

  “We’d better get back in so you can warm up.” He handed her the lantern.

  She went first this time, stepping in the holes from their previous steps. The lantern created a circle of golden light around them as they made their way single file to the house.

  “My hair is full of dust. I’m going to bathe before supper,” he told her. “You can keep a plate warm if the two of you want to go ahead.”

  “We’ll wait for you.” She hung her coat and washed her hands at the basin.

  Tessa had set places at the kitchen table while they’d been out. “I thought we’d be informal this evening,” she said to Violet.

  “That sounds perfect.” She made the last touches to their meal and set out roasted veal fillets, stewed beets and winter squash. A bowl of rice pudding stayed warm in the oven.

  When Ben Charles returned, he prayed and they ate.

  “Violet enjoyed seeing the horses,” he said to Tessa. “They remind her of her father.”

  “You are fortunate to have those memories,” the younger girl told her.

  Violet set down her fork. “Very much so.”

  “He taught you to ride when you were young?” Tessa asked.

  “He taught me everything.”

  “Like how to bake delicious pastries,” Tessa said with a smile.

  Ben Charles smiled, too. “You mentioned that when your father got sick, he sold his bakery.”

  Violet nodded. “That’s right.”

  “And after his death you went to work for the new owner.”

  “I did.”

  “Then he closed it? How did it happen that you answered my ad?”

  She couldn’t continue to lie to this man who’d been so kind and welcomed her into his home. He trusted her.

  She got a sick feeling in her stomach. She glanced at Tessa, who was obviously waiting for her reply, as well. “There was a fire,” she said. “After that I was out of a job, so I looked for a new one and found your query in the classifieds.”

  “Was the fire so bad that your employer couldn’t rebuild?”

  She paused before replying, “I didn’t want to wait that long. I was ready to move on anyway.”

  Ben Charles supposed it had been painful to see someone else in her father’s place. Violet didn’t seem the type to make rash decisions, so the anguish must have been deep. Her unspoken hurt touched him, and he wished he knew how to help her.

  After they’d eaten warm rice pudding, he sat at the table while Violet cleaned up and put on beans to soak. Tessa had excused herself and gone upstairs to read. After a few minutes he noticed Violet hadn’t moved. She stood facing away from him, her hands fisted at her sides.

  “Violet?”

  Slowly she turned to face him. Her dark eyes were wide with emotion he couldn’t identify—and hoped wasn’t fear.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “You’ve welcomed me into your home. You’ve trusted me, but I haven’t been truthful with you.” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I didn’t know where else to go or what to do, and coming here seemed the perfect answer. But I can’t lie to you anymore. I will face whatever happens after this, but I cannot keep lying.”

  A fissure of shock darted through him. Whatever she had to say was more serious than he’d imagined. He didn’t like the idea of her being in trouble or distress. She twisted her trembling fingers together. He wanted to close his hands over hers, but he resisted.

  “What is it?” Truly concerned now, he stood and led her to a chair and sat adjacent to her.

  “Baking was what I knew how to do, so after my father’s death, I asked the new owner for a job. He seemed pleased to have me—in fact he was always nice to me. His son worked there, too. Wade.”

  Ben Charles noted the way she said his name with distaste. Already he didn’t like where this was heading.

  “Mr. Finney invited me to their house for holidays and sometimes just for supper of an evening. His wife was nice, too. Quiet. I didn’t have anyone else, so I joined them whenever he invited me. I didn’t catch on for a few months that I was always seated next to Wade or that Mr. Finney sometimes left us alone at the table. But then his comments to both Wade and I became suggestions. Why didn’t we attend the Founder’s Day picnic together? How about taking the buggy and going for a ride? I had no interest in Wade, and he had none in me. Just the opposite, in fact.”

  She had Ben Charles’s full attention. “What do you mean?”

  “He often made rude remarks or criticized something I’d done. His interests, as far as I could tell, were in drinking, smoking, playing cards and coming to work with an occasional black eye or swollen lip. Sometimes his friends came to the bakery, and he left with them�
�just left the rest of us with his share of the work. Several times I heard him arguing with his father over money.” She raised her gaze and held his.

  “Go on, Violet.”

  She straightened on the chair and squared her shoulders. “I stopped accepting Mr. Finney’s invitations. He came right out and told me he wanted Wade to marry me and settle down. He said if Wade married a nice girl and had a family, he’d come to his senses. He was determined Wade would take over the bakery one day, and he used the fact that the business meant so much to me to try to get me to comply. If I was Wade’s wife, the bakery would still be in my family.”

  “What a dirty player.” A horrible thought made the hair on Ben Charles’s neck stand on end. “You didn’t marry him!”

  “No. No, of course not.” She raised her hand in a halting gesture. “I refused to snare Wade, as Mr. Finney wanted, but he didn’t give up. Things became tense at the bakery, with the two of them fighting. Then Wade stopped coming to work, except for once or twice a week. I have no idea what was going on at their home or behind the scenes.”

  Relieved that she’d set his fears to rest, he nodded for her to continue.

  “One night he broke the window at the boardinghouse where I stayed and yanked me out of bed by my hair.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “It hurt when he yanked me to the window to show me the smoke curling up a few blocks away. He’d used kerosene to set a fire at the bakery.”

  “I guess that’s one way to get out of work,” Ben Charles said with a wry twist of his lips.

  “He gave me money and said if I didn’t get out of his life and leave town right then and there, he would tell his father I’d started the fire. He’d used my matches, my apron. And he said there were witnesses. There couldn’t have been, of course, but I have no doubt he paid someone to say they’d seen me there.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I left. He told me where he would send my belongings, and sure enough they were waiting for me when I went to Pittsburgh and claimed them. I was afraid there would be a trap, that someone would be waiting, but Wade only wanted me gone. And so I used the money for a room, for food and a traveling suit, and I answered your advertisement.”

  “And I wired you train fare.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “You could have told me this from the beginning.”

  She tilted her head to the side and shrugged. “I was afraid. You might have turned me in, and the authorities would have come for me.”

  “What about now?”

  The fear in her luminous eyes made him sorry he’d asked. “You might still call the authorities,” she answered. “I’m prepared for that.”

  “I believe you,” he said quickly. “What reason would you have to burn down the bakery?”

  “Perhaps I despised Wade so much, I eliminated every possibility of being trapped into a marriage to him.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You don’t have a devious bone in your body.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Did you do it?”

  “No.”

  “That’s good enough for me.”

  “There’s something else.”

  He wasn’t in the mood to wait for another divulgence. “What is it?”

  “My name isn’t Bennett. You were right. That’s not a Swedish name. I’m not even a very good liar.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Violet Colleen Kristofferson.”

  He couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

  “What is it you find so funny?”

  “Not funny. Your combination of Irish and Swedish names is charming.”

  “I just told you everything you knew about me was a lie. I deceived you in order to get a job in your home. The person you hoped would be a companion to your sister is a liar.” She was more than a slightly perturbed. “My life is a shambles, and you’re laughing.”

  “‘A merry heart doeth good like a medicine...’”

  “What?”

  “It’s from the book of Proverbs.” He composed his features and presumably his thoughts. “I forgive you.”

  She blinked. They stared at each other. “Just like that?”

  “Just like that.”

  “You aren’t shocked or disappointed...or disgusted or angry?”

  “I knew you were hiding something. I figured you’d tell me eventually. I’m not particularly disappointed or angry, no.”

  She looked at her hands in her lap. His reaction wasn’t what she’d anticipated. He was so calm, she didn’t feel a sense of relief at having told him. “I don’t understand.”

  “You said you were sorry. I forgave you. Would you feel better if I ranted?”

  “Maybe I would.”

  “Jesus taught if we expect to be forgiven ourselves, then we must forgive. When we repent for our wrongdoings before God, He forgives us. Just like that. We don’t earn forgiveness. God isn’t angry with us, because He loves us. God sent Jesus to take away the sins of the world by dying on the cross. Jesus cancelled our debt with His own blood. He suffered and died because He loves us so much. He did that for me and for you. The very least I can do is forgive you.”

  “When you talk about God, Ben Charles, it’s as though He’s a real person. I can believe He made a plan for those Israelites to escape Egypt.”

  “He made a plan for all of us. Can I show you something, Violet?”

  She nodded.

  He left for a few minutes and returned with his worn Bible. “God made provision for us through Jesus.” He opened to a page and ran his finger over the words, until he found what he was looking for. “‘For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’” He looked up. “All we have to do is ask.”

  Violet listened with keen interest, the words ringing true in her heart.

  “Farther on in this book of Romans,” Ben Charles continued, “it says if you believe and confess Jesus is the Son of God, that He was raised from the grave, and if you ask Him to come into your life, your sins will be erased and you will join Him in heaven after you die.”

  “You did this, Ben Charles?”

  He nodded. “Many years ago.”

  “And that’s how you can forgive me so easily?”

  “That and the fact that you’re pretty easy to forgive anyway.” He grinned and that charming dimple winked.

  “How can I do that? Do I have to tell Reverend Densmore what I’ve done?”

  “No, we can just pray together, the two of us. If it’s what you want to do.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “May I hold your hands?”

  She offered them to him and he closed his big warm fingers over hers and bowed his head. “Thank You for sending Violet, Lord. Thank You for the provision you made for Tessa and I. Thank You that Violet trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”

  He glanced up. “Now you just repeat after me, all right?”

  She nodded.

  He led her through a prayer, telling God she believed Jesus was His son and died for her, asking God to forgive her, asking Him to come into her heart. When they’d finished, the silence of the kitchen wrapped around them. Ben Charles’s strong hands were comforting. Violet felt as though a burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

  Ben Charles released her and placed his Bible in her hands. “As you read this, it will come alive for you.”

  Violet absorbed all they talked about, what Ben Charles had read to her from his Bible, the prayers. “Were you my provision?”

  Ben Charles’s gaze touched her features. “What do you believe?”

  “Well...I guess if God is planning ahead for us, He knew what I needed. He showed me your advertisement and directed me here—for this day when I could understand how much He loves me.”

  His warm smile confirmed Ben Charles agreed.

  Chapter Nine

  The sun shone brightly for the next several days, matching Violet’
s new demeanor. She felt like a new person, with the weight of her lie removed and the knowledge of her right standing before God. Ben Charles had been right about the stories in the Bible coming to life for her.

  In the evenings she asked questions about what she’d been reading, and he and Tessa helped whenever she didn’t understand something.

  At church the following Sunday a woman approached her with a smile. “We haven’t met. I’m Lenora Grimes. I understand you’re in Mr. Hammond’s employ.”

  Violet greeted her. “I’m fortunate to have met him and Tessa, and I enjoy working for them.”

  “I understand you’re an exceptional baker, is that so?”

  “I’m a baker, yes.”

  “She’s teaching me,” Tessa said, coming up beside Violet. “You haven’t truly enjoyed a dessert until you’ve tasted Violet’s cakes and pastries and breads.”

  “I’d like to extend an invitation to our annual Ladies’ Aid Society recital next week. It would be a good time to get acquainted. Mr. Hammond and his sister are welcome, of course.”

  Her new clothing should be ready in time. She might feel awkward among the other women, but Mrs. Grimes’s invitation was kind, and she felt honored to have been invited. “I’d love to come. Thank you.”

  “I was hoping I could ask you to bake for the event. I spoke with Ben Charles, and he said it was fine with him if you wanted to. The Society will provide all the supplies you need. Will you consider it? Please?”

  Baking was the one thing she was confident about. “Yes, of course. Do you have a menu?”

  “Perhaps we can plan it together,” Lenora suggested. “I’m fascinated to hear your suggestions.”

  “That suits me just fine.”

  Lenora reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Oh, thank you, dear.”

  Violet met the other woman’s warm gray eyes. “Thank you for including me.”

  “Shall we get together this week? I could call on you one afternoon.”

  “Sundays are my days off.”

  “Do the three of you have plans for lunch today?”

  Violet caught Ben Charles’s attention, and he joined them. After a brief discussion it was arranged they would meet Dr. and Mrs. Grimes at the Conrad Hotel shortly.