In Times Gone by

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In Times Gone by Page 10

by Tracie Peterson


  Instead, he reached up and touched her wet cheek. “You did really well. I wasn’t sure if you’d had any experience with babies, but for someone who hadn’t, you managed it perfectly.”

  “It was unlike anything else. It was like seeing the hand of God right there—giving life after so much destruction and death.” She sniffed and shook her head. “It’s like telling me there’s hope for the future.”

  He smiled. “There’s always hope, Kenzie. God is hope itself. Our sorrows may reign in the past, but God alone controls the future. We can put our hope in Him and know that no matter what happens, He will never leave us nor forsake us.”

  She nodded. “I know you’re right.”

  “Good. Then maybe you’ll also accept that I’m right when I say I think we belong together. I’m asking you to be my wife, Kenzie.”

  “I barely know you.” Her words were just a whisper.

  “You know me better than most.” His voice became low and husky. “You’re afraid.”

  “Yes.”

  “Of me?” he asked with a look of doubt.

  “Of everything. I’m afraid of you—of us. I’m afraid to feel and be hurt again. I’m afraid of making foolish mistakes. I’m afraid we’ll have another earthquake. Sometimes I wake up at night thinking I smell smoke.” She knew she was rambling.

  Micah put his hands on her shoulders. “Kenzie, you don’t have to be afraid of me. I love you. No one will ever love you as much as I do.”

  “Arthur once said the same thing to me.”

  Micah pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Kenzie stood stiff, unwilling to give in to the desires that coursed through her. Seeming to understand what she was doing, Micah pulled back just enough to speak.

  “I’m not Arthur. I’m Micah Fisher, and I want to share my life with you. I love you, and I want to marry you, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way.”

  “I . . . don’t know what I feel. I want to believe you. I want to . . .”

  “Just tell me you’ll give me a chance. Agree to court me—to consider marriage. Don’t make me pay for Arthur’s mistakes.”

  She nodded, knowing that more than anything, she wanted this chance for herself.

  Micah gazed at her in surprise. “Are you saying yes? Yes, that you’ll give me a chance—give us a chance?”

  Kenzie nodded again. “Yes.”

  She saw the elation in his expression before he kissed her with the same enthusiasm he had the very first time.

  “Unhand my wife!”

  At first Kenzie thought she had imagined the command, but when Micah straightened and turned toward the voice, she knew she hadn’t.

  “Excuse me?” Micah said.

  The handsome blond man stepped forward. “I said, unhand my wife.”

  Micah looked back at Kenzie, who was certain she might faint. She whispered the name of the man she’d hoped never to see again.

  “Arthur.”

  CHAPTER

  10

  I’m here to see Mr. Bridgestone,” Caleb said to the young man who served as the law firm’s secretary.

  “Yes, he’s expecting you.” The young man motioned Caleb to follow him.

  Caleb looked around, hoping he might spy Sam and learn what the trouble was before he had to be surprised by Mr. Bridgestone. The letter Caleb had received that morning said the matter was of the utmost urgency and requested he come as soon as possible.

  Rather than go to Bridgestone’s office, the secretary took him to another part of the house. “This is one of the family’s sitting rooms,” he explained. “Mr. Bridgestone asked for you to join him here.” He opened the pocket door to reveal a large, well-appointed room with a fire burning in the hearth despite the warmth of the day.

  Caleb stepped inside to be greeted by Bridgestone, who sat at the far end of the room with a woman. The woman, obviously in mourning, wore black, and a heavy veil hung from her stylish hat. Bridgestone got to his feet and greeted Caleb.

  “I appreciate you coming so quickly. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but given you are rather critical to this situation, I felt it best to start with you.”

  How in the world was he critical to this situation? Caleb nodded at Bridgestone. “How can I help?”

  The young woman pushed back her veil and fixed Caleb with a frown. “You can tell me why I am not allowed access to my inheritance, and furthermore, why you think you have the right to be my guardian.”

  Caleb stared at the young woman, hardly more than a girl. “Victoria Whitley, I presume.”

  “Yes.”

  “Please sit, Mr. Coulter,” Bridgestone instructed. “I believe this will take a bit of time to discuss.”

  “I don’t know why,” Victoria said, her gaze never leaving Caleb. “Mr. Coulter doesn’t even know me. He has no right to tell me what I must do or how I can spend my money.”

  “I’m afraid he does have that right, Miss Whitley. He is the trustee of your estate. You have yet to reach your majority, and until you are twenty-one, your cousin Judith Whitley is your guardian. She has appointed those responsibilities to her fiancé, Mr. Coulter.”

  Victoria gave a harsh laugh. “I should have figured you would make such a move. Grandmother said you were probably nothing more than a money grubber. Now you’ve engaged yourself to my cousin—who I understand holds most of the fortune my dear family left behind.”

  Caleb smiled despite her snide tone. “Miss Whitley, we presumed you were at school in Switzerland. Might I ask how you managed to return to San Francisco?”

  Victoria gave an exasperated sigh. “I told the headmistress I wished to return home to mourn my family, and she arranged it. Now, what I want to know is when you intend to release my inheritance so I can make my own decisions. I do not intend to remain in this repugnant town.”

  Caleb looked at Bridgestone, who wore a look of weary consternation. He returned his gaze to Victoria. She was clearly furious. No doubt she’d thought she merely had to show up and demand her own way, and when that hadn’t worked, she had taken it out on Bridgestone.

  Knowing this would take some time, Caleb sat in the leather wingback chair beside her and turned it so that he faced her directly. Once seated, he addressed her in the professional manner he might use with any other client, rather than as a family member.

  “Miss Whitley, you are nineteen years of age. The legal age that entitles you to access your inheritance is twenty-one. Therefore, until such time, your money will remain in trust for you. Your housing, clothing, and other needs will be provided for by an allowance paid directly to those providers. Should other needs arise, you have but to come to me with your requests, at which time I will judge whether they are acceptable expenditures. Judith wants you to be comfortable, but obviously you will not be returning to the family home, as it was destroyed by fire. You will instead be housed with your cousin.”

  “This is utter nonsense.” Victoria slammed her gloved hands down on the arms of her chair. “I will not be treated like a child.”

  Caleb smiled. “Then don’t act like one.”

  This only served to infuriate her even more. Victoria jumped to her feet and shook her fist at Caleb. “I spent a lifetime under my grandmother’s thumb, and I will not allow some ridiculous, two-bit lawyer to tell me what to do.”

  “Miss Whitley, please calm down and retake your seat,” Bridgestone begged. “I’m sure that your loss is making this harder than it needs to be.”

  “My loss was a blessing. I wear black only because it serves my purpose,” Victoria declared, refusing to sit. She began to pace around the room, always watching Caleb as though he were a wild animal about to attack.

  He thought her an interesting character, to be sure. Had he not known about Bill’s confession to Judith’s attempted murder, he would easily have assumed Victoria was the culprit. Her entire demeanor suggested she would rid herself of all obstacles no matter the cost.

  “I have no money and no place to live,” Victoria stated, loo
king back and forth between the men. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Mr. Coulter and your cousin will arrange your lodging,” Mr. Bridgestone said in carefully chosen words. “You must give them a chance to do so.”

  “I don’t want their arrangements. I have friends with whom I can stay in New York City, and that is where I wish to be. I want my money released to me so that I can arrange passage on the next ship.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen.” Caleb knew she would fly into another tirade, but he felt he had to speak firmly with her. “What is going to happen is that you will accompany me to where your cousin is, and we will discuss the matter like civilized adults.”

  Victoria’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “I’m afraid you must,” Bridgestone interjected. “He has a legal right to direct you.”

  “He probably plans to take liberties with me,” Victoria said, turning to Bridgestone. “Will you allow him to take advantage of an innocent woman?”

  Caleb picked a piece of lint off his trousers. There was no doubt about it—dealing with Victoria Whitley was not going to be a simple matter.

  “Miss Whitley, I have no interest in a child such as yourself, except to see you safely protected.” Caleb got to his feet. “As you’ve no doubt noticed, a good portion of the city was destroyed by fire and earthquake. My own residence was damaged but has recently been repaired, and it is my intention that we will return to live there. However, for the time being, your cousin and the others who were residents of my house are living at a warehouse that we converted to offer shelter to some of the homeless. You will have plenty of female companionship. But if need be, I can hire a nurse to watch over you.”

  She scowled.

  He looked at Mr. Bridgestone. “If there’s nothing further to discuss with you, sir, then I will take Miss Whitley and return to the warehouse. You can reach me there if need be, but in a day or so, I’m sure we will be reinstated at my home.”

  “I’m not living with riffraff,” Victoria declared. “I was raised with the best of society.”

  “Yes, well, the best of society are currently living in the relief camps in tents,” Caleb countered. “Now, if you’re through stomping about like a child, I have other things to tend to.”

  Victoria went to Bridgestone’s side. “You aren’t going to just let him take me away, are you?”

  “I must. He has the legal right to do so, and I will not interfere.” Bridgestone’s tone was relieved. “I’m sure in the coming days you’ll reach an amicable solution.”

  Victoria straightened, and for a moment Caleb wasn’t sure what she would do. She seemed to consider the matter for several silent moments, then lifted her chin and reached up to pull down her veil.

  “You are sending a lamb to the slaughter, Mr. Bridgestone. I hope that weighs heavily on your conscience when I turn up injured or dead.”

  Caleb shook his head and turned for the door. It was going to be a long, long day.

  “What are you doing here, Arthur?” Kenzie asked. Her knees felt like jelly, and she wondered if it would be best to move to the tables for this conversation. She had no chance, however.

  Arthur came to her and grasped her hands before she could so much as protest. “My love, I thought I might never see you again.”

  “I wish you hadn’t.” She yanked her hands away and freed herself from his touch.

  His expression turned hurt. “Don’t say such things. I’ve tried to find you since receiving your letter.”

  “Letter?” Micah asked.

  Kenzie sighed. “Camri insisted I write him a letter to tell him how much he hurt me and how glad I am to be rid of him.”

  Arthur shook his head. “I don’t mean that letter. I mean the one I got on our wedding day.”

  “I sent you no letter. The only letter I know of is the one you sent to me, telling me you’d changed your mind and didn’t plan to go through with the wedding.”

  “But I didn’t send that,” Arthur began in a pleading tone. “That wasn’t penned by me. I believe my father is responsible for it.”

  Kenzie began to feel sick. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I never intended to stand you up. I thought you called off the wedding. I was dressing for the ceremony when the letter came. It said that you had changed your mind, that you didn’t feel we were right for each other.”

  “You weren’t,” Micah muttered.

  Kenzie could hardly believe what Arthur was telling her. “So all of this time, you thought I canceled our wedding?”

  “Yes.” Arthur’s eyes pleaded with her. “You must believe me. I would have never left you. You know how I feel—how hard I worked to win you. You always believed me above your station, but I never felt that way.”

  “But your family certainly did.” Kenzie studied him. He was just as handsome as when she’d last seen him. His blue eyes sparkled in that old familiar way. He was dressed impeccably, as always, and he looked at her with that same expression of adoration. Only this time it was mixed with a beseeching countenance that she’d never known him to use.

  “Kenzie, you are the love of my life. When you refused me—when I got the letter—I went to see you, but your father wouldn’t admit me. I’m afraid at that point I gave myself over to my brother’s suggestion and remained in a drunken state for days afterward. When I finally sobered up, my father convinced me to go abroad with him. When I returned in January, I went again to your father, but he told me you had gone. He wouldn’t reveal where.”

  Kenzie thought it strange that her mother had said nothing of this in her letters. Then again, maybe her father had said nothing to her.

  “I was so happy when I got your second letter. Well, happy and sad. But at last I knew why you had gone and where.” Arthur knelt on one knee and again took her hands. “Kenzie, I wept bitterly when I read that letter. To think that you thought I had deserted you—left you at the altar to face utter humiliation. It was almost more than I could bear. I caught the first train west, but then the earthquake hit. Despite my best attempts, they wouldn’t allow people into the city. I went nearly mad trying to figure out if you were alive, and when I went to the address from your letter and saw the note that you were safe, it was all I could do to keep from shouting. I was so relieved—so happy.”

  Kenzie tried again to pull away, but Arthur held her tight.

  “Please, please come away with me and marry me tonight. Before my family can interfere again.”

  “That’s quite enough of your blathering,” Micah said, grabbing Arthur’s arm. He dragged the other man to his feet. “Kenzie is no longer interested in you, Morgan. She’s going to marry me.”

  Kenzie felt her face flush. She felt more confused than ever before. The thought that Arthur was just as duped as she had been was too much to fathom. She knew his parents—especially his father—to be hateful people who thought themselves better than everyone else. But to imagine they would do something so betraying to their own son was almost unthinkable.

  “Is that true, Kenzie? Are you going to marry this man instead of me?” Arthur’s voice was full of pain. “Please tell me the truth.”

  “What in the world is going on out here?” Camri asked as she and Judith joined the trio. “I could hear you all the way inside the warehouse.”

  “Micah, are you all right?” Judith asked.

  “I assure you, my dear woman, this man is hardly the one to concern yourself with,” Arthur replied. “He’s threatening me, not the other way around.”

  Micah still held Arthur’s arm and looked as if he would pummel him at any moment. Kenzie didn’t know what to say or do. As Micah and Arthur began to talk over each other in explanation, Kenzie wanted only to get away from them all. So, with everyone clearly occupied, she did exactly that.

  CHAPTER

  11

  Camri had little tolerance for ranting. “Silence, both of you!”

  Micah looke
d at her in surprise, while Arthur straightened and freed himself from Micah’s hold.

  “Honestly, the two of you shouting over each other is hardly the way to explain yourselves.”

  “Then ask Kenzie,” Micah said. He turned to question the redhead, but she was gone.

  “I can’t say I blame her for leaving,” Camri declared. She looked at Arthur. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Arthur Morgan, the man Kenzie was supposed to marry.”

  Camri couldn’t hide her surprise. Her mouth dropped open, and she wanted to speak, but the words stuck in her throat.

  “He says he never deserted Kenzie. That the letter you encouraged her to write proved to him that his family were the ones to blame,” Micah interjected.

  Camri regained her composure. “I think maybe we should go inside and sit down. Judith, would you get us some coffee and maybe something to eat? I have a feeling this is going to take a while.” She started into the warehouse and called over her shoulder. “Don’t just stand there, gentlemen. Come along and let me hear what you have to say.”

  Once they were inside, she waited until Judith brought coffee and cookies before she posed the first question. She fixed Arthur Morgan with the look she gave students who failed to turn in an examination.

  “Are you saying that you had nothing to do with leaving Kenzie at the altar?”

  “I swear I didn’t. I received a letter on the day of our wedding. It was supposedly from Kenzie, and she said she was canceling the wedding. She refused me. Or so I thought,” Arthur declared. He straightened his suit coat and brushed off the sleeves. “I was just as deceived as she.”

  “Where is she?” Judith asked.

  Camri glanced down the warehouse toward the private quarters. “I imagine she’s gone off to be alone. We can talk to her in a bit. Right now, I want to know why Mr. Morgan is here.”

  “But I’ve already explained. It was all a mistake, and I’ve come to rectify it. I want Kenzie to come away with me and marry me.”

  “Well, we don’t always get what we want,” Micah said, his eyes narrowing.

 

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