A Love Transformed

by Tracie Peterson

  Hunter was running up and down the short platform while the baggage man finished bringing their luggage.

  “Clara!”

  She turned and saw her aunt and uncle. “Aunt Madeline!” She pulled Maddy along and called to Hunter. “Come along, Hunter, they’re here.”

  Hunter, being his usual self, ran right past Clara to where the older man and woman approached. By the time Clara and Maddy joined them, he was already explaining who he was and why he’d come.

  “. . . and Mama said you would teach me to ride a horse.”

  Paul laughed. “I guess I could do that.”

  Clara threw herself into her aunt’s open arms. How good it felt to be held again—to be embraced with genuine affection. A sob escaped Clara, and she tightened her grip.

  “There now, what are these tears all about?” her aunt asked.

  Clara loosened her hold and met the older woman’s eyes. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s just good to be home again.”

  “Well, what about me?” Paul asked, coming alongside. “Don’t I get a hug?”

  “A hug and a kiss,” Clara said, turning. Her uncle bent down and presented his cheek, and Clara pressed her lips against the leathery skin.

  With this done, Paul pulled her into a bear hug and laughed. “It’s mighty good to see you again.”

  He let her go and looked down. Hunter was pulling on his coat. “Did you bring your horse to the train?”

  “I brought two of them,” Paul replied, reaching down to scoop the boy up in his arms. “You wanna see them? They’re hitched to my wagon.”

  Hunter looked at his mother. “May I see them?”

  “Of course,” Clara said, laughing. “Maybe you could show Uncle Paul where our bags are.” Hunter nodded enthusiastically and pointed.

  While they tended to the luggage, Madeline bent to greet Maddy. “So this must be my namesake.”

  “What’s a namesake?” the child asked.

  “It means you were named Madeline after me.”

  Maddy nodded. “Yes, I was, but they call me Maddy. Mama told me you were her favorite person in all the world and she named me Madeline so she would always have you with her.”

  Madeline straightened and met Clara’s teary gaze. “What a lovely sentiment.”

  “It’s true,” Clara replied. “Adolph never cared what I called the children, so I told him we would name Hunter after my maiden name and Madeline after you. He was perfectly happy with that so long as their last name was Vesper.”

  “He had his son to pass along his name and keep the line going,” Madeline replied.

  “I’m hungry,” Maddy interjected.

  Aunt Madeline chuckled. “Well, your uncle Paul was just saying the same thing as we drove into town. I reckon we’ll have to do something about that. There’s a nice little café just across the street where we can get a decent meal.”

  “Are you sure we can take the time?” Clara asked. “It’s already quite late in the day, and if I recall, the trip to the ranch will take a little over an hour. I wouldn’t want Uncle Paul to have to drive the team in the dark.”

  “You forget. This is nearly summer in Montana, and the days are longer. We’ve had a perfectly beautiful day, and while it’s getting a little chilly, it’ll stay light for hours yet.”

  Clara had forgotten that fact. She smiled, remembering the late evenings she’d enjoyed walking outdoors with Curtis. “It’s true, I had forgotten.”

  “So we can get something to eat?” Maddy asked hopefully.

  Clara nodded. “Yes. Of course we can. In fact, it will be our treat.” She saw her uncle and Hunter returning and bent down. “Why don’t you go ask Uncle Paul if he would like to join us for dinner.”

  Maddy considered it for a moment, her expression quite serious. Then without another word, she turned and marched off to cross the short distance between them. When she’d reached the two, she paused and asked in a loud and clear voice, “Unca Paul, would you like to join us for dinner?”

  He crouched down in front of her. “Why, my goodness. I’ve not been asked out to dinner by a pretty girl in a very long time. Your aunt used to pester me all the time to have dinner at her house when she was but a little older than you.”

  “I was considerably older than Maddy when we were courting, and if you will remember correctly, you were the one always inviting yourself to have dinner with me and my folks,” Madeline interjected.

  Maddy didn’t concern herself with their conversation but kept her blue-eyed gaze fixed on Paul, waiting for his answer. Paul smiled and lowered his voice as if the rest of them wouldn’t be able to overhear him.

  “Your auntie doesn’t always remember things the way I remember them. Sometime I’ll tell you stories about how she used to chase after me all the time.”

  Maddy’s stern expression remained, causing Clara to explain. “Maddy is quite serious about her tasks and is awaiting your answer, as she is very hungry.”

  Paul laughed and picked Maddy up as he stood. “I would love to have dinner with you, Miss Maddy. Where shall we go?”

  “Auntie Madeline said there’s a café across the street.”

  He put his hand up to shield his eyes and gazed out as if trying to spot a storm on the horizon. “Why, there sure enough is, Miss Maddy. I’ll bet they have mighty good food.”

  Maddy nodded, looking rather uncertain at the man who held her. “Auntie Madeline said it was decent.”

  Paul roared with laughter and hugged the child. “It won’t be nearly as good as what your auntie can make, but we’ll make do.”

  “What about our luggage?” Clara asked as Paul started for the café. She glanced around, worried that the bags were nowhere in sight.

  “We’ve already loaded ’em in the wagon,” Paul called over his shoulder.

  “I guess that takes care of that,” Madeline said with a smile. She put her arm around Clara. “It’s so good to have you back. How long can you stay? I hope at least the summer.”

  It was Clara’s turn to be serious. “I was hoping forever.”

  They enjoyed a lovely dinner and then made the long journey back to the ranch. Clara watched the passing scenery, often spying sights and catching scents that she’d long forgotten. The rolling hills, the distant mountains, sweet scents of meadow flowers and new grass. How she had missed it all.

  When the ranch came into sight with the nearby fields full of ewes and lambs, she very nearly broke into tears once again. The bleating of the sheep was like music to her ears, and even the heady smell couldn’t lessen her joy.

  Paul parked the wagon between the larger of several outbuildings and the log house. He helped everyone from the wagon and then unloaded the bags. Hunter insisted on helping.

  “Put them in the west wing rooms that I fixed up earlier, Paul. Everything is ready for them.” Madeline turned and smiled at Clara. “I’d imagine you’re all pretty worn out. The children were all but dozing on those last few miles.”

  “Yes. It’s been such a grand adventure for them, but I know they’re exhausted. I’ll get them cleaned up and put to bed.”

  “Paul and I will need to check in with the boys. We’ve been pretty busy with lambing. Your uncle keeps us all on a tight schedule—the sheep too. He’s insistent that they finish birthing this week.”

  “Sounds like the uncle I remember.” Clara lifted Maddy and walked toward the house.

  Madeline kept step beside them. “Since you were here, we put in a nice little bathroom. Paul rigged up a large reservoir outside and fixed it with a stove for heating. It lets us draw hot water for the bath. We’re just as sophisticated as they come—except for the outhouse.”

  Clara smiled, but her own weariness was beginning to take a toll. “It sounds wonderful.”

  They entered the front door, and Clara immediately spied her portrait hanging there in the hall. Turning to the right just past the hat tree and pegs for the coats, she smiled to see that so little had changed in the front room. Her
aunt had made a very cozy living room with several chairs and a sofa positioned around the large fireplace. Clara could remember many a rainy day spent in that room stitching quilts and learning to crochet and knit.

  “It’s just as I’d hoped.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but Aunt Madeline heard it well enough and gave Clara’s arm a squeeze.

  The house was a single-story log cabin that had been expanded over the years. Because of that, the house spread out like honey on warm bread. Rooms had been added on and others repurposed, but everything was pretty much as it had been when Clara lived there.

  “Would you like me to help get the children ready for bed?” Madeline asked.

  Clara shook her head. “No. We’ll be just fine. I’ll see to them. I know you have things to do. Don’t worry about us.”

  Maddy had already started to doze against Clara’s shoulder. Madeline nodded, and when they reached the bedrooms, she smiled to find a bleary-eyed Hunter sitting atop one of the trunks.

  “I think Hunter may not stay awake long enough to have a bath.”

  Clara shifted Maddy. “Perhaps I’ll just sponge them off and put them to bed.” She noted the two small beds, happy that the children would each have their own. As twins, they had slept together up until last year, but now they enjoyed having their own beds. Although on stormy nights they could often be found curled up together.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Madeline said.

  When she’d gone, Clara set to work. She’d never been responsible for bathing or dressing her children. Life in New York had come with its rules, and women of social standing were not to be burdened with the mundane tasks of raising children. It was necessary, of course, to birth them, but then their care and troubles were given over to a nurse or nanny. Now Clara couldn’t help feeling that she’d missed out on a great deal.

  Once she had the twins washed and dressed in their nightclothes, Clara helped each one into bed, then led them in prayer. She wasn’t surprised that they fell asleep almost immediately. Being as quiet as possible, Clara exited the room and made her way across the hall to her old room. Nothing here had changed except the quilt on the bed.

  She smiled at the familiarity and found her exhaustion abated. It suddenly seemed important to see and experience everything. Clara left the room and made her way back to the living room. She paused only a moment before crossing the hall to another sitting room, which she thought of as the music room. Clara touched the ornately carved upright piano. Aunt Madeline had tried to teach her to play, but Clara never took to it easily and lost interest.

  Through the music room, Clara wandered into the dining room and then the kitchen. She was surprised to see that while much had remained the same, there were some pronounced differences here. Aunt Madeline had a much newer and larger cookstove and a beautiful icebox near the back door. A small kitchen table and chairs for more casual meals stood against one wall, and cabinets and a counter with an enameled sink lined another. Clara went to where the sink was and turned the single faucet. Water came out, and Clara smiled. No doubt this was another of Uncle Paul’s creations. The man was ingenious. When Clara had last been with them, she had helped carry in many a pail of water from the pump.

  From the kitchen she could make her way into the long hall that connected the east and west wings of the house. Her aunt and uncle’s bedroom was at the far end of the east wing, as were two additional bedrooms that used to house their three boys. The west wing bedrooms had been added when those boys had reached their teens. Aunt Madeline had explained this allowed for everyone to have some much-needed privacy. It also allowed Madeline to convert one of the former bedrooms in the east wing to a sewing room.

  Walking across the hall to this room, Clara pushed open the door anticipating that everything would be just as it had been fourteen years ago. Instead, she found the sewing machine had been pushed to the far side of the room and a single bed had been added. In that bed was a man whose casted body left no doubt of the injuries he’d suffered.

  “Oh, excuse me.” Clara hurriedly stepped back and started to pull the door closed, but then her gaze caught sight of the man’s face.

  She let go of the door. Her hand went to her lips as a gasp escaped. It was Curtis. She had no idea how it could even be possible that he was here, but he was and her heart began to race as words tumbled from her mouth.

  “My love. My one and only love.”

  9

  On the evening of the twenty-fourth, Otto was still cursing Badeau and his invasion of the office days after the man and his thugs had loaded up most of their files and taken them to an unknown location. How dare the man come in and accuse me of being a traitor! Then Otto chuckled at his own contradiction. His accusation is indeed correct, but that doesn’t give him the right to come in and take everything.

  After all, what was he supposed to do now regarding business? He could have the workers continue making jewelry, but Badeau had taken all of the company papers. Otto had no idea where they were supposed to ship the inventory once it was complete. Of course, it was possible that by that time Badeau would return the files. But given the disagreeable nature of the man, Otto wasn’t about to count on it.

  It was nearly eight o’clock. Brindleson had sent word that they should meet at seven, but so far his secretary hadn’t appeared. Otto paced between the three offices trying to figure out what he should do. He’d just convinced himself to leave when the door opened and a rather worried-looking Jack slipped inside.

  “I think I’m being followed.”

  Otto frowned. “I’d given you up and was just now going to my sister-in-law’s. I haven’t yet had a chance to go through my brother’s office thoroughly, and it’s possible that he kept some of the money and paper work we’ve been seeking hidden there. If you truly think you’re being followed, why don’t you come with me? Mrs. Oberlin won’t be happy to see either of us, but at least it will throw off whoever is following you.”

  “But I have no idea if it’s our associate’s doing or the law. I just know that someone was shadowing my steps.” Jack frowned.

  “If it’s our associate’s doing, he won’t cause us harm. At least not until we fulfill the jobs we agreed to take on. After that it’s anyone’s guess as to what he’ll do. If it’s the law, they won’t think twice about us journeying to my brother’s house.”

  “Our associate has had confirmation,” Jack said, as though Otto could have somehow forgotten this fact. “That’s one reason I sent word to meet me here. The other is to tell you that the submarine will be in position off the coast next Friday morning. He’s had proof that the old clothing factory is now a munitions warehouse. Our friend said to tell you that everything must be in place by next Friday. That gives us a week to come up with the money and munitions. And he said to tell you he’s losing his patience.”

  “I know very well the limit of his patience.” Otto put on his outer coat. “Stay here or come with me—it’s up to you. And if you happen to meet up with our . . . friend . . . assure him that I’m doing everything possible to locate the missing money. If it can’t be found, I’ll use my own money.”

  Jack nodded. His pale face betrayed he was still very afraid. “I’ll . . . stay here . . . for a while. Perhaps if they see you leaving, they’ll follow you and I might be able to slip out unnoticed.”

  “Do as you like. Be here first thing Saturday morning and we’ll discuss what is to be done.”

  He didn’t wait for Jack to comment but snugged down his hat and made his way outside. At least the street vendors were gone. As well as most of the other workers, shoppers, and a growing number of men in uniform. Otto sensed a movement from somewhere to his right and picked up his pace until he spied a cab. He signaled the driver.

  “Where to?” the cabbie asked.

  He gave the man Clara’s address, then eased back into the seat and tried his best to figure out what he was going to do. He had Mrs. Nash’s promise to purchase the new jewelry, and just th
at morning he’d sent her a note telling her he’d be happy to show her the sketches and if she still wanted the pieces, she would need to make a deposit. A very large one. Otherwise, he would refuse to reserve the pieces. The problem was how to figure the price. With the war preparations that had now engulfed America, people were inclined to spend less. Mrs. Nash had more than ample funds and probably little concern over that “pesky affair in Europe,” as he’d once heard her refer to the war. There were others like Mrs. Nash who could very well afford to part with their cash—especially if it was for one of the coveted Vesper Yogo pieces.

  Not only that, but Otto felt it only right to increase the price due to the added difficulty of getting gemstones from around the world. No one needed to know that he had most of the needed stones already on hand. The only thing that truly concerned him was whether or not he could get Mrs. Nash to get him the money no later than Tuesday. Even that would make it difficult to procure the necessary explosives.

  The driver pulled to a stop in front of Clara’s home and opened the door. Otto hastily paid the man and then made his way up the front steps. He had no desire to have to make small talk with Harriet Oberlin, but with any luck she might be out for the evening. After all, there was a new opera debuting in the city.

  Otto lifted the knocker and tapped it several times against the door. When Perkins appeared, he didn’t seem at all surprised to find Otto.

  “Sir?”

  “I need admittance to my brother’s office. There are important papers I must locate.”

  “Very good, sir.” Perkins stepped back. “Mrs. Vesper said you were to be admitted at all times.”

  Otto smiled and stepped into the foyer. “Have you heard anything from your mistress?”

  “No, sir.” The man offered a hint of a smile. “Mrs. Oberlin is quite concerned about her absence, but there has been no word.” He cleared his throat and went to the foyer table. He opened the drawer and retrieved an envelope. “She did leave this note for you. I’m afraid Mrs. Oberlin’s demands caused it to quite leave my memory.”