A Love Transformed

by Tracie Peterson

  “I have five completed designs. I gave them to Adolph just a few days ago. I believe they are still on his desk.” She nodded toward the closed door that led to her husband’s private office. “I have an additional three in my desk that are nearly complete. I suppose I could come up with another four.”

  “That would be perfect. I know this is a hard time for you, Clara, but you and I also know that this wasn’t a marriage of love. Even though Adolph was quite fond of you, I know that the marriage was forced upon you.”

  “Be that as it may, I have two children who are now fatherless. I must think of them and their needs. And, frankly, I am glad to have these things resolved before my mother has the opportunity to come and insert herself into my affairs.”

  Otto frowned. “Is your mother expected?”

  “No, but no doubt she will hear the news. They have newspapers even in Florida, and Mother moves in the circles where such information will certainly be the focus of discussion.”

  “I’m sure you are correct on that account. So Florida is where she spends her time these days?”

  “Well, it is in the winter. I believe she has a palatial estate there given to her by my stepfather. I thought she might have sold it after his death, but she seems to enjoy avoiding the cold winters of New York and has kept it. I can’t say that I’m disappointed.”

  “The woman is a terror.” Otto put his closed fist to his lips, then slowly lowered it again. “I am sorry. That was most uncalled for.”

  “Perhaps, but it’s true. I cannot pretend I have any desire to see her arrive here and immediately set to work finding me another husband. And, of course, she will.”

  Otto shook his head. “The woman has no scruples or sense of concern for others. If she does come and proves to be difficult, get word to me. I will not tolerate her bullying you.”

  The serving girl arrived just then with the tea cart. A sense of fatigue washed over Clara, and even though it wasn’t yet afternoon, she found herself longing for a nap. Perhaps Otto would take tea and then leave. After all, he had plenty to do, given the jewelry business and the funeral. Maybe once she provided him with the new designs, he would leave her to contemplate how she would handle her new responsibilities as a widow.

  2

  As Perkins saw Otto out half an hour later, Clara made her way upstairs to the nursery. She had tried to formulate the words she would use to tell her children of Adolph’s death. She didn’t want to frighten them or cause them undue pain.

  “Mama!” Hunter yelled, careening across the carpeted nursery like an onion cart out of control. Clara had only a moment to brace herself before the child plowed into her and wrapped his arms around her. His enthusiasm made her smile.

  Maddy, his twin sister, followed behind in a more sedate manner. Clara’s daughter was quite reserved but very observant. In her dainty pink dress and white pinafore she looked rather like a little doll. When she reached her mother, Maddy raised her arms to be lifted.

  “I will hold you in just a moment,” Clara promised her daughter. “But first I need for you both to come and sit with me while I tell you some news.” She glanced at Mim, who crossed the room to take up her knitting by the fire.

  “Is the circus in town?” Hunter asked hopefully. “You said we would go to the circus when it came to town.”

  Clara led them to the window seat. She sat and pulled Maddy onto her lap while Hunter climbed onto the seat by himself.

  “It’s still snowing,” Maddy said, pointing to the frosted glass.

  “Yes, it is.” Clara kissed her daughter’s cheek and brushed back her long hair. She looked to Hunter. “I have no idea if the circus is in town, but the news I have to tell you concerns your father.”

  Hunter frowned and crossed his arms. Being out of dresses only a few months, he looked most uncomfortable in the starched white shirt, short blue pants, and black wool stockings. Somewhere there was a jacket that matched the pants, but Clara didn’t reprimand him for its absence.

  “But I want to go to the circus.” His lower lip jutted out as if to prove his point.

  Clara shook her head. “Do not pout, Hunter. It doesn’t become a young gentleman.” Hunter immediately relaxed his expression, and Clara nodded in approval.

  “Now, I know you may not fully understand what I am going to tell you, but I will try to answer all of your questions.” She drew a deep breath and continued. “There has been an accident and your father . . . he was hurt. He died.”

  The children were both quiet, their expressions serious.

  “Like the bird?” Hunter finally asked, seeming to understand the gravity of the moment.

  “Yes,” Clara said, “like the bird, only . . .” She hesitated to say more.

  “Only what?” Maddy pressed. “How did he get hurt?”

  “It is hard to understand or explain, but some bad man shot him with a gun this morning.”

  “Will you put him in the ground like we did the bird?” Hunter wanted to know.

  “Yes. There will be a funeral for your father. It will be quite large with a lot of people, so you will stay here with Mim.”

  “Will Father go to heaven?” Maddy asked.

  Clara had raised her children to revere God and know something of the Bible, but Adolph had only seen church as a means to further his clientele. She had no idea of his holding any spiritual beliefs.

  “I don’t know, Maddy. Father kept such things to himself.”

  “Nanny Mim says you only go to heaven if you love Jesus.” Maddy’s face grew quite solemn. “If Father didn’t love Jesus, then he won’t go to heaven.” Her words were blunt and to the point, and all Clara could do was nod.

  “If he doesn’t go to heaven, will he go to hell?” Hunter asked. “Will he go to the devil?”

  She didn’t want to give her children nightmares about hellfire and brimstone, but neither did she want to lie to them. “I suppose he might if he didn’t love Jesus. However, I don’t know if he loved Jesus or not. I would imagine only God knows for sure.”

  “I heard Cook tell Mr. Lawrence to go to the devil,” Hunter announced as if it held great importance.

  Clara might have laughed out loud at such a declaration had the moment not been so grave. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, Hunter,” she reprimanded, but she didn’t dwell long on the matter. “I don’t want either of you to worry about this. I simply wanted you to know what has happened.”

  Maddy snuggled against Clara. “Are you sad, Mama?”

  The question momentarily left Clara at a loss for words. She wasn’t really sad. She wasn’t even sure that she would mourn. Not exactly. She had her concerns about the future and the desire to shelter her children from the harsh realities of being fatherless and . . . penniless. She gave a sigh.

  “I am feeling many things just now, Maddy. Are you sad?”

  She nodded. “I’m sad that Father got shot.”

  “And that he might go to the devil,” Hunter added with a seriousness that Clara couldn’t ignore. Maddy nodded.

  “It makes me very mindful that we must always be ready to meet our Maker. We don’t have any way of knowing when we might die, but we needn’t fear it.”

  Maddy straightened. “Not if we love Jesus.”

  “Exactly.” Clara gave her children a smile. “Now, I must go and tend to other things, but if you need to talk to me about this, you can ask Mim to send for me. Or you can talk to Mim. She is very wise and knows all about such matters.”

  Clara kissed her children, then left the nursery hoping that she had handled the matter appropriately. She made her way past the grand staircase to the east wing of the house, where her bedroom adjoined that of her husband’s. Entering the room, she was struck by the absolute silence. The snow insulated things to a point of leaving the world completely still.

  She made her way to her writing desk and pulled out the chair. She often wrote to her aunt and uncle in Montana and felt it would help her to sort her thoughts by writing to tell th
em of Adolph’s death.

  Long ago Clara had spent a great deal of time living on her aunt and uncle’s sheep ranch. Her mother had much too much going on during the summer to dally with a child home from boarding school and seemed grateful that her dead husband’s sister would take Clara off her hands.

  Clara had enjoyed staying with her aunt and uncle and learning about God. Aunt Madeline had often told her Bible stories, and Uncle Paul led them each day in morning devotions. She also learned the importance of work. Her aunt taught her all about a godly woman’s role. Clara learned to cook, clean, sew, and lend aid to those who were sick or injured. Her aunt taught her how to cultivate flowers and grow a vegetable garden that would sustain the family through the winter. There were lessons about caring for the sheep and other farm animals, and there were wonderful camping trips up into the mountains, where Clara prayed summer would never end. It was during one of those wonderful summers that Clara had given her heart to Jesus. And it was upon returning to New York City and her mother that Clara had been forced to hide such beliefs deep within.

  “I will not abide such nonsense,” her mother had said when Clara had asked if she knew Jesus as her Lord and Savior. “Your aunt and uncle are steeped in their strange religious beliefs, but that isn’t for us. This will be the last I hear of such foolishness from you.”

  After that, Clara kept her thoughts to herself. She managed to hide the Bible Aunt Madeline had given her just weeks earlier when she’d prayed to have Jesus come into her heart and direct her life. And she took the Bible with her when she returned to boarding school, where they were perfectly accepting of such an article. When summer came and she was hurried off to Montana, the Bible went with her. Clara smiled. She still had that same Bible.

  Some of her happiest memories were of her time on the ranch. She had known true tenderness and love there in her aunt and uncle’s care. She had also found her heart awakened to romantic love when she lost her young heart to a boy who worked at the ranch.

  Clara opened the desk drawer and set the Bible atop her desk. It had been fourteen years since she’d lived with her aunt and uncle. The summer she was sixteen her mother decided it would be Clara’s last time to go to the ranch. In fact, her mother had cut the summer short by showing up in July to take her home. It was time to introduce Clara to society so that a husband might be secured. Clara made the mistake of telling her mother in no uncertain terms that she had already fallen in love and planned to marry Curtis Billingham. Mother had been outraged, accusing Aunt Madeline of allowing Clara to run wild. Mother didn’t even wait out the night but dragged Clara back to New York before she hardly had time to say goodbye to Curtis. Clara had been devastated, and her only comfort had been her Bible.

  She lovingly touched the leather cover. The pages of the book were dog-eared and worn, but as her aunt had once teasingly told her, “A person can never wear off the words, no matter how many times they read them.” In her sorrow, Clara had read little else, and over her twelve years of marriage she had consoled herself with God’s words on many occasions.

  “Lord, I need your divine direction. I never expected such a thing as this could happen, but now that it has, I am completely dependent upon you for guidance.”

  Grace Church proved the perfect location for the grand funeral of Adolph Vesper. Despite his German ancestry and the war, the elite of society overlooked this in order to be among the mourners. After all, it was certain to be noted in the newspaper who was in attendance and who was notably absent. The long drive to the cemetery, which overlooked the river, was made even more disagreeable due to the cold weather. Thankfully, most of New York’s elite instead chose to return home to their warm fires and opulent furnishings.

  Clara and a handful of others attended the graveside service, which was abbreviated due to the weather. At the conclusion, the mourners offered their final condolences to Clara, then slipped away. Clara remained at her husband’s casket to say goodbye, while Otto stood speaking to the pastor some distance away.

  “I know you aren’t really here, Adolph, but it seems appropriate to pretend that you are.” She gave a quick glance through her heavy veil to make certain no one lingered nearby.

  “Ours was not a marriage of love, nor did we know the passion that so often surrounds those who wed. We were thrown together for the convenience and benefit of many, never giving thought to personal feelings or desires. You always knew I loved another, and I always knew you loved making money. Still, I am grateful for the amicable years and the two precious children you gave me. I pray that somehow before your death that morning, you found the truth about God. I’m ashamed to admit that it never much mattered to me. I should have done more to encourage your understanding of God.”

  She touched her gloved hand to the coffin. “I do pray that you made your peace with God before it was too late.”

  The snow was nearly gone from the ground, but the cold wind that blew off the river chilled Clara to the bone. That and the thought of her husband spending eternity in utter damnation and separation from God when she might have prevented it by sharing what she knew to be true. Of course, even if she’d been more vocal regarding salvation, Adolph might still have rejected such thinking.

  Leaving the casket, Clara made her way to where Otto was saying goodbye to the last of the mourners. He turned as she approached and held out his arm.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes.” Clara gave one final glance at her husband’s resting place, then took hold of Otto’s arm. “I’m quite ready.”

  3

  Curtis Billingham was lucky to be alive. He knew that better than most folks. He’d been blessed to be sure, despite his own attempt to ruin his life. Securing the last few buttons of his flannel shirt, he tried not to remember all the terrible things of his past. However, the demons that drove him then lingered to pester him now.

  You’re nothing but a drunkard—gambler—womanizer who has done time in prison, the voices echoed in his brain.

  His friend and mentor Paul Sersland said that Curtis was a new creation in Christ, but the devil wanted to convince Curtis otherwise, and the devil had a much louder voice.

  A quick check of the time caused Curtis to hurry his steps. Madeline and Paul would be waiting for him to start devotions and breakfast. He tied a kerchief around his neck as he made his way to the large kitchen.

  “Sorry,” he said, taking his seat at the kitchen table.

  Madeline patted his shoulder as she passed by his chair to take her own. Paul sat with his Bible and offered Curtis a look of amusement. “We got you a watch for Christmas, thinking it would help you keep track of time.”

  Curtis laughed. “It does, but it takes a little of that time away each second I pause to look at it.”

  They all chuckled at this as Paul opened the Bible. “This morning I’m gonna read Psalm 4. ‘Hear me when I call, O God of my righteousness: thou hast enlarged me when I was in distress; have mercy upon me, and hear my prayer. O ye sons of men, how long will ye turn my glory into shame? How long will ye love vanity, and seek after leasing? Selah. But know that the LORD hath set apart him that is godly for himself: the LORD will hear when I call unto him. Stand in awe, and sin not: commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still. Selah. Offer the sacrifices of righteousness, and put your trust in the LORD. There be many that say, Who will shew us any good? LORD, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time that their corn and their wine increased. I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.’”

  Paul looked up and smiled. “David is praying in earnest here, isn’t he? He’s begging God to hear him and have mercy on him.”

  Curtis nodded. “I know how that feels.”

  “I think we all do,” Madeline agreed.

  “David knows he won’t find strength in himself. But he’s seen God work. He’s seen God give him increase and protection. No
t only that, but David knows he’s been set apart for God’s work. And I think he’s reminding anyone who sees these words that they need to revere the Almighty. A lot of folks take God for granted, but David knows he can trust in God—that God will give him peace of mind and safety. Of course, that doesn’t mean bad things won’t happen. Jesus himself told us we’d have trouble in this world. David is saying here that no matter what, when his trust is placed in God, even the bad things won’t be a problem.”

  “I agree.” Curtis sampled the coffee and smiled at the strong, earthy flavor. He put the cup down before continuing. “I remember how for many years I sought peace of mind and gladness of heart. But I learned it can’t be found outside of God. I know, because I tried to find it in other things.”

  Paul closed the Bible and gave a nod. “The world tries to convince us that it can be had in things . . . in places . . . in people. But that kind of happiness doesn’t last. It’s gone when those things go by the wayside.” He looked to Madeline.

  She gave him a smile, then stretched out her hand to take hold of Curtis’s. Paul closed the circle, clasping each of their hands in a firm grasp. “Let’s pray.”

  “Father in heaven, for this food we thank you. For the hands that prepared it and for those who partake of its goodness, we ask your blessing. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Curtis said before opening his eyes and raising his head.

  “Well, let’s get to it,” Paul said, reaching for a platter of sausages. “We had forty lambs born in the night, and I would imagine there will be just as many today if not more. They’re starting to drop at regular intervals, and the boys are plenty busy, so I can’t sit around here all day.” He winked at Madeline and gave her a smile. “Although I’d like to do just that. Spending the entire day with my best girl sounds like a mighty fine thing.”

  “I’ll be out there lending a hand too,” Madeline countered. “So you will be spending your day with me.” She handed him a stack of pancakes as he passed the sausages to Curtis.