A Moment in Time (7 page)

“I wish I could promise that you wouldn’t, but of course I can’t,” Alice admitted. “I do know what fear is like, though. I live with it every day. Mr. Smith seems to delight in frightening me. But that’s fear for myself and not for an unborn child.”

“My fear is for myself, too,” Marty said, shaking her head. “I just don’t know if I can handle this, Alice. I don’t know if I can go back to Texas. I know that I miss Jake. I know that I want us to be together. I even want to see my sister and Will again.”

“But you don’t want to see Texas.”

“It’s not even that. I found myself wishing I could enjoy the warmth of Texas again when the room turned so cold the other day.” She smiled. “I guess I don’t hate Texas as much as I hate what I’ve experienced there.”

Alice took hold of her hand. “We need to pray about this, Marty. There isn’t anything we can’t ask God about.”

“But I already know that God expects me to honor my wedding vows and be with my husband. I know God wouldn’t have a child be without his or her father. I know what’s expected of me. Praying about it won’t change that.”

“Maybe not, but perhaps it will change your heart.” Alice patted her hand. “Marty, you have done nothing but care for me since we first met. You have shown me grace and love. Despite Mr. Smith’s threats, you’ve stood by me, and because of that my heart has changed and I have new hope. You’ve proven to me that a person’s heart can change and life can be better, even when circumstances do not change. I think God can do the same thing for you.”

Marty seemed to consider Alice’s words, and Alice found herself praying that God would give the older woman peace about the situation. She wanted Marty to be at peace, and she also hoped that if they left Denver for good Alice could once and for all be rid of Mr. Smith.

“I will pray about it, Alice. I know what you’re saying, and I want to accept that truth.” She looked at the other envelope in her hand. “No doubt Hannah will be advising the same thing. I told her in my last letter that Jake had gone to Texas. She’ll be beside herself that I’m alone in Denver.”

Alice shook her head. “You’re
not
alone, Marty. Whether you stay here or go there, you’re not alone. I’ll stay with you—if you’ll let me. We’re sisters now, remember?”

The two women shared a glance and then a smile. Marty nodded. “Yes. Sisters.”

Alice hung her apron on the peg by the kitchen and rolled her aching neck to ease the pain. She had been busy at the diner since arriving that morning, and now, to her relief, it was time to head back to the orphanage.

Joe hadn’t said much to her since she’d refused his proposition that they spend time together. Alice was glad that he hadn’t challenged her on the matter. He seemed a bit standoffish, but otherwise cooked the orders and performed his other kitchen duties without further complicating her life.

Mr. Bellows complimented Alice daily on her hard work and serving abilities with the customers. Alice knew the diner’s business had increased and hoped it was because of her good service. In the throes of a busy day she had little time to think about her scar, Mr. Smith, or even her concerns about Marty. But when the day concluded and she began her long walk home, those thoughts always returned.

Bundling up in her coat and wool bonnet, Alice headed out onto the snowy street. Overhead the skies threatened to
deliver even more of the wet, white annoyance. She tried not to let the cold discourage her, however. She’d made nearly a dollar in tips that day and felt on top of the world. She had been able to set aside a little bit of change here and there after tithing and hoped that eventually the money would help get her and Marty to Texas. The rest of her earnings went to help defray expenses at the orphanage.

Mr. Brentwood always seemed grateful for the assistance, but Alice knew he was gravely worried about the situation. While he’d managed to secure some funds, he was unable to solicit the amount needed. It seemed the winter of 1893 to 1894 would go down as one of deep poverty and hopelessness in Colorado.

Alice was only halfway home when the hair on the back of her neck prickled. She felt an icy sensation run down her spine and knew without looking that Mr. Smith had somehow found her. She could feel his gaze and wondered where he was. Looking around as casually as she could, she pretended to notice a book in the window of one of the general stores. She thought about going inside and seeing if she might escape out the back as she had done that day in the fabric store but knew it was fruitless. Smith had a way of always finding her.

For a moment Alice considered confronting him. She thought of telling him that she would go to the police and have him arrested. Maybe the threat would dissuade him from his constant haunting. But that would require her to be close enough for conversation. And Alice wanted no part of that.

She picked up her pace just a bit. It would do her little good to appear to be running from the man. No, it seemed to her that if she pretended not to notice him, he might keep his distance. Perhaps he didn’t know exactly where she lived. Maybe he’d found her completely by accident. But she doubted it.

Maybe heading to Texas wouldn’t help. Maybe he’d
follow me there, as well.

Yet Texas held great appeal to Alice. She reasoned it to be a calmer setting, for cattle and crops, rather than silver, seemed to hold court there—at least according to Marty. Surely life in the South would be better than here.

Keeping her focus on the path before her, Alice prayed that Smith would keep his distance. Lost in her prayers, she nearly jumped out of her skin when a man called her name. She steadied herself and drew in a deep breath before turning.

“Mr. Brentwood!” She let out a sigh. “You startled me.” She put her hand to her breast as if to slow her racing heart.

“I apologize for that, Miss Chesterfield. I saw you heading home and wondered if you would like to ride. I have my carriage just around the corner.”

“Thank you. That would be wonderful.”

He led her to the single-horse conveyance and helped her up. Alice settled in as Mr. Brentwood climbed in beside her and pulled a woolen warmer from beside him. “Here, this will help with the cold.”

She smiled and spread the blanket over her lap. “Did you have business in town today?”

“I did,” he said, snapping the reins. “I am happy to say I procured a charitable donation to help with the rent on the orphanage. We will be secure for another three months.”

“That’s wonderful news.”

“Indeed. I’m also given hope that there will be an offering from one of the churches to help with the cost of coal and electricity.”

“That’s good to hear. I don’t suppose it’s easy to get assistance these days.”

“No, not at all. Although I have appealed to several of the
women’s organizations and hope to offer a small program to encourage donations. I thought we might have the children learn a song or two that they could perform. Maybe even have an affair at the orphanage itself to encourage godly people to come and share anything extra that they might have.”

Alice considered this a moment. “Such as food and clothing?”

“Exactly. Or perhaps kerosene and candles. After all, electricity is certainly not a necessity. I’ve long thought to eliminate it—at least temporarily.”

“Is it less expensive to run on kerosene?”

“Yes, but also more dangerous. Children aren’t always cautious of fire hazards. I suppose that’s why I’ve delayed in giving up electricity.”

“So you plan to ask people to donate everyday items that will allow for the running of the orphanage. I think that’s wise. Then if people can’t afford to give money, they might give something else useful.”

“They could even donate items we might be able to fix and sell. I have long considered the possibility of training the boys to make repairs to various items and resell them. Perhaps I could have a shop right there at the orphanage. The older children are certainly capable of helping.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Marty and I could help with mending old items for resale. The shop would be a wonderful way to help support the orphanage and the community—especially if you weren’t to charge outrageous prices like most of the town businesses.”

“Do you think Marty—Mrs. Wythe—would approve?” he asked with a quick glance at Alice.

She heard the hope in his voice. “I think she would, for as long as we are here. Her husband has asked us to join him in Texas.”

“But you’re needed here,” he said, sounding most desperate. “Mrs. Wythe has said nothing of leaving.”

“I know. She is waiting for the money her husband plans to send, and then we will purchase train tickets.”

Mr. Brentwood frowned. He seemed to consider the matter for several blocks before changing the subject entirely. “How do you like working at the diner? I have to say I was quite impressed with your donations to our food budget.”

“I don’t always care for it, but it does allow me a means of helping. I know the money is much needed and I don’t mind the hard work.” They turned a corner and the orphanage came into view. “I keep praying that the economy will improve, but it would seem that most of the men believe this is only the beginning.”

Mr. Brentwood nodded. “I fear they are correct. I also fear for the children. I’ve been asked to take on more orphans but have had to refuse. I know the state orphanage is overflowing, as are many of the other church-run houses. Every day I see children, as well as adults, begging on the street. Some of the children are much too young to forage for themselves.”

“It’s sad that people feel they can cast their children aside like unwanted trash.”

“Many of the parents are dead, and there’s no one to take the little ones.”

“Dead? I thought most of the children were abandoned.”

“Some are, but sadly suicide is on the rise. One of the ministers was just telling me today that many people have given up. Of course winter brings with it more sickness, and some have succumbed to that. But winter and despair also increase those feelings of hopelessness. Some folks aren’t strong enough to endure the pain.” He pulled the buggy around to the back and came to a stop. He jumped down and helped
Alice from her seat. “I’ll be in directly after I see to the horse. You might tell Mrs. Wythe that I’d like to speak to her in my office. I’d like to know how soon she might . . . when you two plan to leave us.”

“I’ll tell her,” Alice replied. She wanted to say something more. Something regarding his obvious feelings for Marty, but she held her tongue. It was probably best that she not assert her opinion just yet. Marty was a grown woman and fully capable of taking care of the matter herself.

Robert glanced up from the repairs he was making to espy a rider heading toward the house. The man rode well and looked to be completely at ease with the day. Dusting off his gloved hands, Robert straightened and made his way to the front yard in order to greet the man.

“Howdy,” he called as the rider came to a stop.

“Howdy yourself,” the man greeted with a smile. “I was wondering if Mr. Barnett was around.”

“I’m Robert Barnett.”

The man dismounted and extended his hand. “Jake Wythe. I’m married to Marty.”

Robert couldn’t help but smile. “She’s my aunt. I’ve heard a great deal about you. Pleased to meet you.” They shook hands. “Ma told me you might be headed our way. She had a letter from Marty sayin’ as much. I know she’ll be glad to meet you—Pa, too.”

“I hope they’ll still be glad when they hear why I’ve come. I’m in need of work.” His frank admission seemed almost apologetic.

“They already know about that. I believe Pa has been planning to hire you on since Aunt Marty wrote and told him you
needed work. Come on with me and I’ll introduce you. Pa’s just out back of the barn plotting out an additional building for hay. You can tie your horse off over here. We’ll tend him after the introductions.”

Jake tied the animal to the fence. Robert led the way around the pen and to the back of the barn. “Ma said that you’d been in the East working.”

“Sure have. I got friends over near Perkinsville. They own Vandermark Logging and I worked for them a spell. But with all the changes goin’ on over that way, they weren’t even sure how long they’d be in business. A fella named Temple has bought up some seven thousand acres of timber and plans to start up his own sawmill. Might just put the Vandermarks in a bad way.”

“Do you prefer loggin’ to ranchin’?” Robert asked.

“No.” Jake was matter-of-fact and to the point. “I grew up third-generation Texas rancher. We had a place just south of here, but Pa had to sell it during the drought. Didn’t set well with me losing my inheritance, but I learned to give it over to the Lord.”

“It’s best that way.” Robert noticed his father and called to him. “Pa, look who’s come. It’s Aunt Marty’s husband, Mr. Wythe.”

“Jake,” the man interjected. “Just call me Jake.”

William Barnett came forward and extended a hand. “It’s good to finally meet you. I have to say when Marty told us she’d remarried, I was skeptical.” He gave Jake a head-to-toe assessment before smiling. “Looks like she chose a good Texas man.”

“I am a Texan, to be sure, and me and the Lord try our best to keep me on the good side.” He grinned. “I’ve heard a lot of great things about you and Mrs. Barnett.”

“You can call me Will. I’m sure my wife will want you to call her Hannah. Come on to the house. Speaking of my wife, I’ll never hear the end of it if I don’t get you two introduced right away.”

Jake nodded. “I’m hoping you might be able to put me to work. I know ranchin’ like the back of my hand. I grew up workin’ every aspect.”

“I heard you were a banker,” Will said with a grin. “A banker rancher.”

Jake laughed. “Guess you could call me that. My pa insisted I finish my education after he sold off the ranch. I worked a time in eastern Texas loggin’, then joined my folks out in California. Got my education and went to work as a teller and then moved on to Denver, where I was promoted and eventually managed a branch for Paul Morgan. When the bank failed, I thought only of returning to ranch work.”

“I can’t imagine that set well with Aunt Marty,” Robert threw in. He knew his aunt had soured on ranch life after losing Uncle Thomas.

“No, it didn’t, but your aunt is a practical woman. I’m hopin’ I can get some work here and send her money to come.”

“We’d like nothin’ better,” Robert’s father admitted. “We’ve been hopin’ you’d show up sooner rather than later. Hannah’s been half beside herself to get Marty out of Denver and back down here. We don’t much like her livin’ there alone.”

“I don’t either. There didn’t seem to be a whole lot of choices, though. She wouldn’t come and I couldn’t stay.”

Robert thought there was a hint of regret in the man’s voice but said nothing. They entered the house through the back porch. Robert saw his mother look up from the table where she was kneading bread. Her face lit up at the sight
of his father. Even after all these years Robert could see that his parents were still very much in love.

“Well, who have you there?” she asked. Wiping her hands on her apron, Robert’s mother came from around the table to greet them.

“Hannah, this is Marty’s husband, Jake.”

Robert watched his mother assess the man only a moment before smiling. She stepped forward and embraced Jake, much to his surprise.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. So glad you finally came our way. You know you should have come here first.”