A Love Transformed

by Tracie Peterson

  Curtis knew both Madeline and Paul were hard workers, but they were in their seventies and he worried about them. “I’ll get stuff secured at the mine today and be back to help you when it’s time to shear.”

  Paul nodded. “It’s always good to have you working alongside.”

  “Sapphire mining has lessened quite a bit since the war started, and I heard last week that they’ll soon shut down altogether and the miners will be put to work mining ores and metals needed for the war efforts.”

  “I heard the same when I was in town,” Paul said. “War’s gonna change everything.”

  “Well, for now the sheep are going to need our full attention,” Madeline interjected.

  Paul handed Curtis the platter of pancakes. “Weather’s been good, but I don’t think it’s going to hold. Looks like snow out there.”

  “Once I get everything shut down and secured at the dike, I’ll be able to devote my time to helping you.” Curtis took several pancakes, then handed the plate back to Madeline.

  “Do you plan to be out there all day?” Madeline asked, putting the plate aside.

  “I shouldn’t have to be. I need to make sure the bracings are holding and then get all my equipment packed up.”

  “If you like, Curtis, I’ll come out with the wagon this afternoon and we can load up your things.”

  “That would be great.” Curtis poured syrup over the cakes, then immediately cut into them.

  “Well, don’t go off until I pack you a lunch,” Madeline told Curtis, getting to her feet. “You might get delayed and need to be out there for a longer period. I wouldn’t want you going hungry.”

  Curtis hated to see her leave her food. “You don’t need to do it right now. Come eat your breakfast while it’s hot.”

  “Bah, it’ll be just as good five minutes from now. I know you. You’ll down your breakfast and fly out the door before I can put anything together. You’ll tell me you need to get to work and don’t have time to wait.” She threw him a look that dared him to deny it.

  Paul just laughed. “You can’t win this one, son.”

  Curtis smiled and turned his attention back to the food. He liked it when Madeline and Paul referred to him as son. His own parents had been gone for nearly fourteen years. Their deaths had left a huge hole in his life. A hole that was made only bigger by the loss of Clara.

  When he closed his eyes he could still see her smiling face and soulful brown eyes. He’d never known anyone like her. It had been easy to fall in love with her. They were only children with untried hearts, but the feelings they held for each other were strong and true.

  “Are you already at the mine?” Madeline asked, touching his shoulder.

  Curtis looked up and met her gaze. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

  She gave him a knowing nod. “I asked if you wanted two sandwiches or three.”

  “Two’s enough.”

  “I packed you a Thermos of coffee and a big piece of yesterday’s pie. I know how you liked it.”

  “What’s not to like about huckleberry pie?” He grinned and turned his attention back to the food at hand.

  “As much as you like huckleberries, I’ll have to try to can twice as many this year. Of course, it will all depend on whether or not I can get a good supply of them.”

  Paul reached over and took up a newspaper. “It doesn’t look like the war is going so well for the Allies.”

  “How sad,” Madeline said, coming back to the table.

  “I was going to mention this earlier,” Curtis said, putting his fork down. “I plan to enlist in the army.” He hadn’t told either of them that he had been contemplating what he’d do concerning the American war effort.

  Madeline sank into her chair. “Are you sure? I thought since you’ll be closing your mine, you might be content to help out here. The army is going to need wool and meat.”

  Curtis nodded. “I’m sure they will, but they’ll also need men. And it’s not like I have a family depending on me.” He smiled. “Well, you depend on me occasionally, but I know I’m more of a burden than someone you need around.”

  “That’s hardly true,” Madeline declared. She looked to Paul. “We’ve come to enjoy having you here with us. Like we told you some time ago, you are free to stay on.”

  Paul nodded and put the paper aside. “She’s right. After our boys moved off and you lost your folks, we kind of figured God gave us each other. We’ve tried to look after you in your youth and thought you could look after us in our old age.”

  “Of course I will. However, I also know you believe in a sense of duty.” Paul nodded again and Curtis hurried to explain. “I feel it would be my duty to serve my country, just as you fought to keep the Union together back in the War Between the States. I know they don’t expect the war will last long with America coming to their aid, and I pray that is the case. However, I figure no matter how much time it takes, I should do my part.”

  Paul picked up the paper again. “Well, we’re proud of you, son, and we’ll stand behind you no matter what you do.”

  Curtis knew he meant it. He knew both of them would support his decision even if Madeline worried about the outcome. They were like that. They didn’t try to live his life for him but were there to offer advice when he sought it. Never reproachful. Never taking an attitude of superiority. Even when Paul had pulled him from the gutter sick and nearly dead, Curtis had never felt condemnation from either of them.

  “Of course, like I said,” Madeline added while buttering a piece of toast, “you can serve the country by helping here at home. Wool is important for uniforms and then there’s the meat we can provide.” She gave Curtis a side glance. “I think you’d be doing just as great a duty in helping out here as to go overseas.”

  Paul looked over the top of the newspaper. “Now, darling, we aren’t going to interfere in his decision. Besides, if he wanted to stay here, there are quite a few wild horses we could round up and break for the army.”

  Curtis grinned at them. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  They were just finishing breakfast when ranch hands Joe and Phil came by to fill their Thermoses. “Kind of cold today,” Phil said, reaching for the large coffeepot.

  Joe nodded toward Curtis. “If you’re heading over to the mine, you’ll wanna wear a couple of layers. I’m bettin’ it’s gonna be cold all day long. Clouds are moving in, and it might even snow.”

  “That’s all we need,” Madeline said, going to the stove to help the men. “Poor little lambs. What a hard time to be born.”

  Paul put the paper aside again and chuckled. “Mother would have them all be born in a warm bed in the house if she had her way. The lambing sheds are quite adequate, however.”

  Curtis wiped his mouth and got to his feet. “Guess I’ll go grab my heavy coat.”

  “It’s hanging by the front door, Curtis.”

  He went to kiss Madeline on the cheek. “Thanks. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Probably have to make your own coffee,” Joe hollered after him. “I know that’s how it’d be for me.” They all chuckled at this.

  Heading to the front door, Curtis made his way down the long main hall. About halfway to the door and just outside of the living room, he couldn’t help but pause by the large picture of Clara. He reached up and outlined her profile with his finger. The photo had been taken on her eighteenth birthday, two years after her mother had forced her to return to New York.

  He hadn’t been there when the picture arrived. Instead he’d been drinking away his sorrows and contemplating whether or not he wanted to go on living. Fact was, he’d happened across the photograph quite by accident. It was about a month after Paul had brought him back to the ranch to recuperate. Barely able to stand, he had hobbled down the hall heading out to the porch to sit and enjoy the warmth of the day. Curtis remembered the moment as if it were yesterday. The pain at seeing her looking so beautiful, so happy—without him. It cut like a knife. It wasn’t that he
didn’t want her to have a good life. He did. But he wanted her to have that life with him, not some wealthy society man. And just as he knew he would never be happy without her, Curtis had imagined she would never be happy without him. The picture suggested otherwise.

  He studied the photo a moment longer. She truly was the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. Her auburn hair had been curled and pinned in a beautiful arrangement with a wide, scarf-like ribbon tied across the crown of her head. She wore earrings and a corsage of flowers pinned over her heart. The photograph was void of color, but he could almost imagine the vibrant colors of her dress. Clara had always loved bright colors.

  Curtis felt the age-old longing for what might have been. They had been meant for each other—of that they were certain. She had been as sure of it as he had been, and at sixteen they had made a pledge to marry. Then everything seemed to fall apart. Curtis’s folks left for New Orleans, where his father, a doctor, was much needed to help with a yellow fever epidemic. They would never have made the trip, but his father’s best friend from medical school had begged them to come. It seemed the city was overwhelmed with the sick and dying. Since one of Curtis’s two older brothers also lived in the city, his parents were happy to use the situation as an excuse to see their son and his family.

  Curtis was old enough to remain at home on his own, but having been helping out at the Sersland ranch for the past two summers, his mother and Madeline arranged for him to stay with them while they were away. Curtis hadn’t minded that at all because it meant he could be with Clara. But then the unthinkable happened. His parents contracted the fever and died. His brother sent word after the fact. The news left Curtis in a stupor, but that was only the start of his woes. Clara’s mother arrived at the ranch not long after to declare it was time for her daughter to return to New York and make her debut into society. After all, if she were to get a rich husband, she would have to prove herself to be one of the elite.

  Clara hadn’t wanted to go, insisting that she and Curtis had made a pledge to marry each other. Her mother had laughed at that, telling them both that this was something that would never happen. Curtis was nothing more than a ranch hand, and her daughter was destined for a life far more grand. Then she had forced Clara to return to New York City. Two years later he heard from Madeline that Clara had married. After that, nothing mattered.

  He let out a long, heavy sigh and gave the photograph one last look. He hoped Clara had found happiness and that her husband treated her well. As for Curtis, he knew he would never love another.

  The ride out to the mining area cleared his head. The crisp April air did taste of snow, and the skies suggested it would come sooner rather than later. The mountains were still capped in white, but in the valley the snows had come and gone several times, and with each melting everyone thought—hoped, really—that it would be the last and that spring would finally arrive. Of course, a Montana spring meant anything from a foot of snow to chilly showers or bright sun-filled days. It just seemed the latter came far less often.

  The Sersland property stretched for miles in every direction. They had part of the land farmed in hay and grain, while other sections were devoted to grazing land for the sheep. Added to this were leases and forest permits that extended their acreage considerably. Five thousand sheep required a lot of grass.

  The mine, or dike, as it was often called, was situated to the west of the house, nearly six miles away on the edge of the Little Belt Mountains. Not far from this were the operating mines of the New Mine Sapphire Syndicate. The Syndicate had tried unsuccessfully to get Paul to sell the land to them, but he had refused. Year after year they’d attempted to purchase the piece, and year after year Paul had told them no. Then two years ago on Curtis’s twenty-eighth birthday, Paul had deeded the mine and twenty surrounding acres over to him as a gift, and the Syndicate had settled for making an arrangement with Curtis to sell them whatever stones he found. It had worked out well for both parties, although neither would ever get rich off Curtis’s small mine. And the Syndicate liked keeping all Yogo sapphires under their control.

  Curtis dismounted and unsaddled his horse. He staked the gelding out to graze, then went to work. Getting sapphires out of the ground required a great deal of patience. First he had to dig up the ground, then let it weather. There were several piles of dirt around the mine that varied in age. Once the dirt was weathered, it was far easier to harvest the sapphires using a rocker box by the river to wash the dirt and knock the stones loose. But even with all of that work, Curtis had only managed to find a few stones of any consequence. Most were quite small—less than a carat. On occasion he had found larger pieces, including a sapphire that looked to yield five or more carats. He’d decided to keep that one for himself. Still, if he was diligent, he could make at least one hundred dollars a month on average. Most of that he saved after giving a portion to Madeline for his keep.

  He gave a long look around the area. He didn’t have any idea when he might see it again. If he joined the army and went to fight in Europe, he might never see it again. Snow began to fall. At first it wasn’t much, but as time went on, it began to snow in earnest. This caused Curtis to pick up the pace. There was no sense wasting time, and if the snow continued, he’d have to take what he could and cover the rest with a tarp until Paul could retrieve it with the wagon.

  Curtis went down the long trench, checking the supports and picking up any tools he’d left behind. The mine had been Paul’s idea. After he’d gotten Curtis back to health, he’d brought him out here. He figured it allowed Curtis the ability to work on his own without having to deal with the questions and possible condemnation of others. And Paul reasoned that the mine would give Curtis time to contemplate his future and decide what he truly wanted to do. Curtis figured he’d eventually either take on sheep, as Paul had encouraged him to consider, or maybe he’d wrangle wild horses. Now, however, there was a war, and America was a part of it.

  Curtis found a couple of the supports needed shoring up and went to work. Once he finished today, he would spend the next month helping with the sheep. By the end of that, Curtis would enlist. The thought of war was quite daunting, and yet Curtis almost welcomed the thought of being a soldier. Just one unknown man in a sea of thousands. Maybe then he could forget the mistakes he’d made. Maybe then he could let go of the regret he wore like a yoke.

  He went deeper into the trench and back to where he’d actually dug a short tunnel underground. Here he found several of the supports less than sufficient. When he’d last been out here, he’d been in too much of a hurry. Wisdom dictated that he now take the time to shore up the tunnel properly.

  Retrieving a couple of rough planks outside, Curtis couldn’t help but notice the wind had picked up a bit. The snow was already several inches deep. He murmured a prayer for better weather, then returned to the tunnel and went to work nailing the planks in place.

  One of the overhead boards came loose as he fought to secure the side boards in place. “One step forward and two steps back,” he mused aloud. He stopped what he was doing on the side, but he’d no sooner begun to work the overhead piece back in place when dirt rained down on him. He gave it little thought, but when the onslaught continued and grew heavier, Curtis knew he was in trouble.

  He had no time to move before a good portion of the tunnel around him caved in, along with the supports Curtis had hoped to secure. The first beam hit him hard across the shoulders and knocked him to the ground. The next hit him square in the middle of his back. Pain radiated throughout his body, but Curtis had no time to react before another heavy load of debris collapsed atop him. He saw stars when one of the smaller boards struck the back of his head. The situation was growing worse by the minute. Curtis knew he would have to make a final effort to escape and crawl his way out, but his leg was trapped, and every movement sent electrifying pain throughout his body.

  What a ridiculous way to die, he mused as he felt his vision darken. His last thoughts were of the Bible
reading that morning. “I will both lay me down in peace, and sleep: for thou, LORD, only makest me dwell in safety.”

  4

  A month had passed since the murder of her husband, but still the police could offer Clara little understanding as to why it had happened. Otto had come to check on her and the children every few days, but he always brought up the matter of the jewelry designs. Now, as Clara stood warming herself by the library fireplace, she couldn’t help but glance at the unfinished designs on the nearby desk. She didn’t feel overly creative, and the quality of the pieces was suffering. Mim said it was because of the murder and the uncertainty of her life without Adolph. Perhaps she was right.

  Clara left the comfort of the fire and went to study the drawings. On one page she had outlined a pair of earrings. The pinnacle stone at the earlobe would be a Yogo sapphire. From there the design fanned out to end in a curve of small sapphires at the base. She hadn’t yet figured out how to arrange the center. Another drawing was for a brooch. This piece was a variation on one she’d done years earlier. It would be unique, but the foundation of it would start with a box shape of white gold and diamonds. Atop this would be a bow with tails that would flow down and over the side of the diamond box. The bow would be set in Yogo sapphires. The finished piece would give the appearance of a gift box, but Clara hadn’t yet been able to make the bow just right. The other two designs were even less complete. She knew one would be an opulent necklace to match the earrings. The fourth would also be a necklace, but the design hadn’t yet worked itself out in her mind. If not for Otto’s insistence that he needed a full twelve pieces for the gala presentation to introduce Clara’s artistry, she might have given up.

  Despite his pressure on her to finish the designs, Otto had been very good to her and the children. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Movement at the library door drew her attention. Perkins entered with Otto on his heels.