Unwilling Warrior
Page 13
“Me too.” There was a note of resignation in her voice that gave him hope.
Leaning forward, Ben took the lamp from her and set it on the table behind him. Then he faced her again. Her dark hair hung loosely around her face and brushed the tops of her slender shoulders. Her blue eyes were wide, perhaps from embarrassment, although the robe she wore was adequately modest. He’d seen his mother and sisters in their nightclothes often enough.
Slowly he reached out for her hand. When she allowed him to hold it, he pulled her closer to him. Suddenly they were eye to eye.
“I thought about what you said earlier,” Valerie whispered.
“What was that?” He felt captivated, even though he knew he might be left with a broken heart to nurse—as well as a missing brother to find when all was said and done.
“About Catherine. It’s just hard for me to believe a pastor’s daughter would do such a brazen thing. And yet, I can’t blame her.”
“No?” That was surprising.
“I guess it just confirms our New Year’s Day suspicions.”
He remembered them.
“She loves you.”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t know why.”
Valerie arched a brow. “It’s the McCabe charm.”
“Oh, right.” He grinned. “So you’re not miffed with me anymore?”
Her features softened. “I had no right to be miffed in the first place. It was just such a shock to see the two of you—”
“It was a shock for me too.”
Valerie gave in to a light laugh. “So you have no plans to court Catherine like she said?”
“The notion never entered my head, but I reckon I’d best talk to her and clear things up between us.”
“Good.” She glanced around the kitchen. “I came down for a bite to eat. Can I fix you a little something also?”
“I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”
Valerie disappeared into the pantry and returned with a long loaf of bread and something round wrapped in cloth. “Le pain,” she said in French. “And au fromage.”
“Bread and cheese,” he guessed.
“Oui, monsieur.” Valerie smiled, then turned wistful. “Whenever I couldn’t sleep, Mama always brought out the bread and cheese and prepared a cup of herbal tea for me. So that’s what I’m serving up.”
“Fine by me.” He found it ironic that she spoke French to him tonight. Obviously she knew she’d soon embark on an overseas voyage with her father. Once more he hoped she would be safe, getting around the Union’s gunners once they set out to sea. Ben couldn’t stand the thought of her ship being fired upon, and yet that would likely happen unless—
Unless the Union allowed that particular ship to pass.
Ben thought it over. Fontaine Shipping. Edward Fontaine’s Federalist ideas. Colonel LaPorte’s animosity . . .
He kneaded his stubbly jaw, deliberating.
Valerie put the kettle on to boil and, finding a sharp blade, sliced the bread. The mound of cheese she placed on a small platter. Then she handed him a plate and a spreading knife. “Help yourself.”
Ben smoothed the soft cheese onto a piece of bread. “You know, Valerie, it really saddens me that you’ll be leaving soon.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your trip to France. Your father told me about it after dinner.” Ben took a bite of his bread. The cheese had a distinct flavor, and at first he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“France?” Valerie shook her head. “Father never said anything to me.”
Ben couldn’t figure out why she didn’t know, but that explained the reason she hadn’t spoken of the trip earlier. For a long moment he didn’t say anything. “You don’t know about the trip to France?”
“No, I don’t, so perhaps you’d better tell me.”
Ben figured there was no turning back now. “After you excused yourself from the dinner table, your father mentioned that he’d booked passage to France. He cited the obvious—that the shipping business has dwindled in the South because of the Union’s blockades. He said he plans to start a new company in France.”
Valerie paled beneath the lamplight, and her breathing became more pronounced. She looked stunned, frightened, and hurt all at the same time. “Did my father specifically mention me?”
“No, but—”
“I knew it!” She set down the silver spreader harder than necessary.
“Valerie . . . ” Ben reached for her, but she moved away.
“I knew my father still harbored the idea of marrying me off to James. I could just tell.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions.” Ben prayed he was wrong. “When I spoke to your father today, I had the impression you were going to France with him.”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t want me. He had hoped I’d marry someone and stay in Virginia. Now he wants me to marry James so I’ll be out of his hair. He’s always been a distant figure in my life. Why would that suddenly change?”
Ben finally caught a hold of her wrist and pulled her closer to him. “Valerie, that can’t be true.” He thought of Pa and his protectiveness over Leah and Sarah. “I’m sure your father loves you.”
She didn’t reply. She didn’t have to. The little jut of her chin that was supposed to offset the anguish in her eyes said it all.
“Well, I’d rather die than marry James.”
“Don’t say such things.” Ben set his hands on her shoulders and gave her a mild shake.
Her palms covered his wrists. “I don’t love James. I never will.”
The whistle on the kettle screeched, and she whirled out of his grasp. Ben wished there was something he could say to assuage her fears—especially the part of marrying Ladden. God, don’t let it be so. Ben hated the thought of Ladden touching Valerie in any way.
And yet, Ben knew he couldn’t make her any promises.
She carried over the teapot, followed by two cups and saucers, and set a cup and saucer in front of him. “It’s my mother’s special blend of herbs. Try it. It’ll help you sleep.”
“Thanks.” A war of his own raged deep within his heart. He believed he loved Valerie, and somehow even the idea of her going to France hadn’t deterred him completely. But marriage to Ladden . . .
“I’ve enjoyed your company this week.” The corners of Valerie’s mouth moved upward, although the gesture didn’t reach her eyes. “It was fun to watch you and Clint play checkers the night before last.”
“He cheats,” Ben teased.
“He won fair and square.” Her smile was full on her face now.
“I’ve enjoyed my stay here.”
She fiddled with her teacup and grew serious again. “You once asked me if I believed in love at first sight.” She looked into his eyes. “Do you remember?”
“I’ll never forget.” The evening he’d kissed her in the solarium. He had a sense of where she was going with this conversation. “Valerie, please don’t say anything you might regret later.”
“I’ll never regret it. I love you, Benjamin. I’ve known it from the first night we met.”
And he loved her. He’d known it from the start. But he also knew he carried a great amount of responsibility in saying those three little words. He’d nearly murmured them once before, and he wouldn’t mind declaring them now. But he wasn’t in a position to ask for her hand in marriage. He was committed to finding Luke. Photographing the war. “Valerie . . . ”
She stretched her arm across the short distance between them and touched his lips with her fingertips. “You’re not obligated to reply. I just felt the need to tell you.”
Holding her wrist, he moved aside her hand. “Valerie—”
She moved around the table and slipped her arms around his neck. She touched her lips to his, and her sweet scent assailed him. He couldn’t help but gather her into his arms. Her kiss was fervent, letting him know she meant what she’d said.
But then he gently pushed her away. “Don’t. We can’t do this.
I told the Lord I wouldn’t let this happen again and—”
“It’s my fault. I love you, Benjamin.”
“I know.” He loved her too. “Valerie, if there was any way—”
“I understand.” She lowered her gaze and took a step backward.
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“You have to find your brother.”
He nodded. “That’s part of it—most of it.”
“And the other part . . . I think I know that also.”
“Valerie—” He cupped her chin, urging her eyes to his. “—I keep trying to see how it’d work between us now, and I can’t.” How could he ever afford to give her the lifestyle she was accustomed to here? Every stick of polished furniture in this house mocked him. His future lay in Jericho Junction. He almost laughed. An observer might say Valerie was more suited to James and Catherine to him. But even if Valerie agreed to live in Missouri, he wasn’t in a position to get married. “It’s all in God’s timing, and this isn’t it.”
She replied with a few little nods. “Please forgive my shameful actions just now.” She moved farther away, averting her gaze.
“Sweetheart, I understand. It’s natural to act on your feelings. I’m sorry for defying propriety and giving in to mine too.”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever thrown myself at.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Collecting her teacup, she sent him a shattered look that splintered his heart. “I guess I should say good night.”
Ben wanted to stop her. But with what? Promises he couldn’t keep? He expelled a disappointed sigh. “Good night.”
Twelve
What perfect weather we’re having today,” Emily said as they rode to church in the buggy.
“Beautiful,” Clint agreed. “Don’t you agree, Ben?”
“Yes. Nice day.”
Valerie hated the way his shoulders were turned slightly away from her, but she understood why he tried to put distance between them. It wasn’t meant to be.
“Valerie, that blue dress you’re wearing looks lovely on you.”
“Thank you.” She sent Emily a smile.
Benjamin seemed lost in his thoughts, and Valerie knew she wasn’t doing a good job disguising her clamoring emotions. Her heart was broken—
And then came the shock and the shame.
She’d waited up until the wee hours of the morning for Father to arrive home from the club. Finally he stumbled in, and despite his inebriated state Valerie insisted he answer her questions. Alone in his study with the door closed so as not to wake the household, she pressed him until he admitted that, yes, he’d booked passage to France—for himself. He planned to leave on the twenty-seventh of this month. Valerie, on the other hand, would marry James Ladden—just as she feared. He’d arranged it all. When she refused, Father became angry. Valerie had never seen him in such a state. It frightened her.
But then an odd calm came over him, and he explained, almost soberly, that he owed Arnold Ladden money from an investment gone wrong. Valerie’s dowry would nearly cover it. Her marriage to James would clinch the deal. Father would be free and clear of the debt, and in anticipation of it, he’d purchased passage back to his ancestral home country, France.
“You’re trading me off like some piece of property?” The words had rammed through her disbelief.
Father’s face flamed with another onset of rage. “This is your fault. You should have stayed at school!”
Her heart dropped. Two rejections from two men she loved in one single night.
“Valerie, your expression seems so troubled,” Emily said, bringing her back to the present. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she fibbed. “I’m fine.”
Benjamin turned toward her, and she glanced up into his face. The remorse in his eyes only increased her feelings of humiliation. Twice she’d thrown herself at him. How could she criticize Catherine for being so bold?
She looked away. It didn’t matter anyway. Benjamin didn’t love her and had no desire to marry her. He’d said as much last night.
As for James, she wasn’t about to pledge herself to the likes of him!
The carriage halted in front of the church, and Valerie remembered more of her conversation with her father. She looked at the Culvers, then at Benjamin. “There is something you all probably should know right away.” Valerie hated to say it.
All eyes regarded her expectantly.
“My father has asked that you find other housing accommodations.” Valerie looked at Emily and ached at the thought of losing her sweet friend. “I don’t want you to leave, but Father’s insisting . . . because of the circumstances.” Her gaze slid to Benjamin, but she couldn’t seem to form the words to tell him that her worst fears had been realized.
The driver appeared at the side of the buggy and Valerie stepped out. After Benjamin debarked, he offered his arm. Valerie shook her head. It was no longer appropriate.
“Valerie, I think we need to talk.” Benjamin leaned close to her ear. “I’m sure we can find a private spot to—”
“I’m afraid it’s too late.”
She quickened her pace when he reached for her elbow. Entering the vestibule, she pasted a smile on her face and greeted several acquaintances. Benjamin was just behind her, and the Culvers followed him. As they all approached the sanctuary, a gentleman dressed in a light gray tweed suit stepped into their path. Valerie’s gaze traveled upward, and she took in the man’s auburn hair and green eyes.
“James!” She couldn’t quite believe it. The Laddens weren’t churchgoers. He seemed somehow out of place. “What are you doing here?”
Ignoring the question, he gave Benjamin a condescending grin. “McCabe.” He offered his right hand. “Ever so nice to see you again.” His eyes moved to Clint and Emily. Valerie noticed both the strain in Benjamin’s voice as he made the introductions and the arrogance in James’s tone as he greeted them.
“Your father told me where I could find you, honey.” James’s gaze flitted to Valerie. Then he sported a triumphant grin as he turned to Benjamin. “And I thought this might be the perfect place and time—” He looked at Valerie again. “—to announce our wedding engagement.”
***
Sitting at the end of the long pew, Ben cast a glance at Valerie. The Culvers sat between them and Ladden on the other side of her. She wore a miserable expression on her face.
Lord, You know me through and through, and You know I can’t let this happen.
“Love covers a multitude of sins,” Cousin Max preached from the pulpit. His voice echoed through the vaulted sanctuary, and Ben forced himself to pay attention. “Jesus Christ is that ‘love’—the love of God the Father, sent to Earth, born of a virgin. Why, less than a month ago, we finished celebrating Christ’s birth—Christmas.”
Hearing Valerie’s delicate cough—or was it a sob?—Ben sat forward to check. Her sad eyes met his gaze until James leaned close and whispered something in her ear. She turned away, looking straight ahead.
Ben sat back, frustrated. Her proclamation last night that she’d rather die than marry Ladden rang loudly in his memory. While he didn’t think she’d purposely hurt herself, she might be willing to risk her life in order to avoid the marriage.
What is Fontaine thinking? Money had to be the motive. As he prepared to leave for France, he wanted his daughter to marry a man with means. The Laddens were certainly wealthy judging by their stately manse. Contrarily, Ben was a freelance photographer without a permanent business. Fontaine knew he hailed from Jericho Junction. He probably figured it was no kind of place for his bright, talented, and beautiful daughter.
Sorrow washed over him. Yes, he loved Valerie. But it was just like he’d told her last night. He couldn’t settle down now. Finding Luke took precedence.
“God’s greatest gift to mankind is His only begotten Son, Jesus Christ,” Cousin Max said. “Our greatest gift to God is giving Him our souls—our lives.”
Ben realized then that God was bigger than his worst problem. The Lord knew where Luke was, and He only wanted the best for Valerie.
Ben bowed his head. Lord, help me to trust You more.
***
After the service ended, Ben hung back, waiting for Cousin Max. His hat in hand, he wandered up and down the aisles while the pastor stood at the entryway, greeting each member of his congregation.
“What exciting news.”
Ben pivoted around to find Catherine nearby.
She smiled and walked toward him. “I just heard Valerie Fontaine and James Ladden are going to be married.”
Not if I can help it. Ben pushed out a polite grin.
“They look so perfect together.”
“Well, you know that old saying, looks can be deceiving.” He set his jaw and held the rim of his hat in both of his hands.
“Why, Ben McCabe,” she drawled, “you’re acting as if you have feelings for that girl. She’s not your type.”
“Oh?” He noted Catherine’s rusty-brown dress with its ivory collar. Even though she was reed-thin, Ben had to admit she made a comely sight this morning. With the stained glass window at her side, she almost seemed to have a heavenly aura about her. “And just what sort of woman is my type?”
She glanced around the emptying church. No one else was within earshot. “Your type of woman is one who has a yearning for life west of the Mississippi, where the land is plentiful. Someone who’s read all about milking cows and plucking chickens. One who can plant gardens, harvest, can, and preserve the fruits and vegetables of her labors.” Catherine inched closer. “You need a woman who wouldn’t mind wearing homespun dresses and who sews her own wardrobe—and yours too.” A blush crept into her face. “You need a sensible woman, and one who understands what it’s like to grow up in the midst of sacrificial ministry with a father who’s a pastor.”