Steadfast Heart (15 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #FIC042030, #FIC042040, #FIC014000, #First loves—Fiction, #Man-woman relationships—Fiction, #Seattle (Wash.)—Social life and customs—19th century—Fiction

BOOK: Steadfast Heart
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Wade turned on the light and pulled the revolver from his coat pocket. Placing it on the table, he noticed Thane's expression. “What? You think I'm wrong to carry a weapon?”

“No, I was just thinking about your question regarding Welby. I have to tell you I've heard some pretty ugly rumors about the man. There are a lot of folks who believe him to be involved in every kind of vice. Why do you ask?”

“Well, according to Mrs. Madison he wants to court Abrianna.”

“Our Abrianna?”

Wade laughed. “I doubt there's more than one. I'm not sure the world could handle two Abriannas.” He sobered. “I don't like the idea one bit. The man is a lot older than she, and now you tell me what I already suspected. I saw him tonight down at the wharf. It looked like he was up to something, but I couldn't tell what. I just got the feeling from the way the men in his company acted that it wasn't legal. But then a police officer came along, and nothing seemed to be wrong.”

“Welby is known to have the police in his pocket,” Thane replied. “Some of the firehouses, as well. It's said that he's committed arson on more than one occasion. Maybe not him personally, but his men.”

“How is it he has so many politicians and authorities under his control?”

Thane shrugged. “My guess is blackmail. I'm sure a man like that gets the dirt on everyone else and isn't afraid to rub their faces in it unless they pay up.”

Lenore paced her cabin, anxious to be home. They would arrive in Seattle at the top of the hour, and though that was only some forty minutes away, it might as well have been forty days. She felt her journey would never come to an end.

“You'll wear a hole in the rug,” Mother chided. “Why not relax so you'll be rested when we arrive.”

“I'm just afraid that we've been gone too long.”

“Nonsense. If this young man you want to court is as worthy as you say, he'll be happily awaiting your return.”

Lenore couldn't begin to explain that Kolbein didn't even know of her feelings. How could she expect her mother to understand that she had fallen in love the first time she'd glimpsed the man? How could she express her fears without Mother thinking her unbalanced in reason?

No, she could only pray that God and Abrianna had interceded on her behalf. God, she knew, was wholly reliable, but she worried about her friend. Abrianna could be rather open-minded at times. Unfortunately, that open mind often led to an open mouth. Lenore couldn't help but wonder if Abrianna might have slipped up and said something revealing. Lenore wanted Kolbein
to realize her good qualities, but she feared Abrianna would just blurt out the truth that Lenore was love-sick for the man.

However, Lenore knew that the trip to San Francisco had helped her to realize one thing. She didn't want the life of opulence that her mother enjoyed. She didn't want the duties of a socialite wife. Seeing the way the Montgomery family lived and the things they valued, Lenore had been reminded that treasures on earth were fleeting. Seeing the things they didn't value, such as the people who worked for them, left her determined to be a better mistress of her own household one day.

Abrianna had long tried to encourage Lenore to be more mindful of those around them, and now she had plans to do just that. The only problem was, she really didn't know how. She could scarcely go out in the streets as Abrianna did.

“You aren't even listening to me, are you?” Mother said a little louder than usual.

Lenore realized she'd been completely rude. “I'm sorry, Mother. My mind is . . . well . . . it's elsewhere.” She smiled and forced herself to take a seat beside her mother. “Are you glad to be almost home?”

“I am, but I will miss San Francisco. I love the climate. Mrs. Montgomery told me that farther south is much more desirable for its temperate climate and warmer temperatures. I will have to convince your father to journey there one day.”

“I find I don't like the heat,” Lenore said. “I prefer my life in Seattle. It's sometimes quite warm here, and we have some beautiful days.” She paused and looked at her mother for a moment. “May I ask you a question?”

Her mother looked surprised. “Of course. What is it?”

“Before Father made his fortune, what was life like for the two of you?” She knew her mother had married against the
wishes of her parents, and although capable of helping their daughter financially, they had cut her off. Punishment for refusing their counsel. In time they had changed their minds, but Lenore couldn't help but think her parents' start had been a difficult one.

Mother considered the question for a moment. She didn't seem upset by Lenore asking, but neither did she seem eager to reply. “It was quite difficult at times. I used to worry about everything. We rented a small house, and it was in very poor condition. I worried about having enough food to put on the table, and I hated that we were too poor for a carriage of our own. I had to walk most everywhere, and everyone looked down on us. That wasn't in Seattle, but rather Tacoma. We moved after your father's business began to bring a profit.”

“But you remember how awful it was to do without?”

“I doubt one ever forgets such a horror.”

“I know there are a great many people who do without in Seattle,” Lenore said, trying not to sound overly interested.

“There are. Your father said that Skid Road is full of depravity and poverty. Your father believes it won't be long before folks get the situation under control, as they did with the Chinese problem.”

Lenore frowned. She had never heard her mother speak out against the Chinese. She knew many of her mother's peers were given to such negativity, but it truly surprised Lenore that her mother would be one of them.

“But not everyone can be rich, Mother. There will always be folks poorer and less affluent. You can't get rid of them all.”

“No, but I do believe we can get rid of the troublemakers and lawbreakers.”

“Get rid of them, rather than try to help them reform?”

Mother nodded. “I think most of those people are beyond reform and don't deserve anything more. They are filled with evil intentions at worst and apathy at the least. They seem not to care for humanity and only for themselves. They do not deserve our mercy, much less our concern.”

Lenore had never seen this side of her mother, and it troubled her deeply. Abrianna talked of showing kindness and love, reaching out to people who had nothing and no one helping them to overcome their downtrodden situation. Mother would have them all rounded up and sent away. But to where?

The door to the cabin opened, and Father made his way into the room. “We have finally arrived. It won't be long before we can depart the ship and make our way home. I've already arranged for our driver to meet us.” He seemed quite pleased with himself.

Mother got to her feet and smiled down at Lenore. “I hope you won't trouble yourself with further concerns for the poor. There are fine organizations that take care of those matters, and you needn't let it bother you.”

But it
did
bother her. And it bothered her even more that her mother would cast the problem off to someone else—to an organization. Was she completely without feeling? Lenore knew she herself had to be awakened to the problems, but that was due to her innocence and youth. Mother was not bound by either and surely should understand the need to show compassion and love to a world of hurting souls.

13

W
ade listened as Abrianna's aunts chattered on about his concerns related to Mr. Welby. It seemed each woman had an opinion and was more than happy to share.

“I find him difficult,” Miss Poisie admitted. “He's much too stern.”

“Perhaps he needs a purgative,” Mrs. Gibson suggested. “Mr. Gibson was often stern when his bowels were inclined to move slowly.”

“God rest his soul,” Miss Poisie declared.

“Amen,” the ladies replied.

Nearly choking on his tea, Wade tried not to laugh out loud. Sometimes the ladies were so certain they had the answers for everyone's problems.

“I believe he's stern because of his business dealings,” Mrs. Madison declared. “He has a great deal on his mind with his import business, as well as his desire to court Abrianna.”

“But Abrianna has not shown any affection for him, Sister.” Miss Poisie straightened her skirt.

“That's true enough. I think his biggest need at the moment is this building.”

“The building? He's still after you to sell?” Wade asked.

“Oh, to be certain. He says he needs it most desperately, and what with the various murders practically at our doorstep, I'm inclined to sell.”

Miss Poisie leaned forward. “He has in mind to pay her, as well as provide a grand house where we might continue teaching the young ladies. Isn't that something?”

“And is that what you want to do?” he asked Mrs. Madison. “I thought this place was dear to you.”

“It is, but I would not see the lives of those I love endangered for the sake of a building.” Mrs. Madison shook her head. “Mr. Welby has made me a solid offer, a most generous one. As Poisie said, he offered us a large house in a beautiful neighborhood as a part of the deal.”

“Why does he want this building so much?” Wade asked. Surely there were other properties available if the man was inclined to be so generous.

“I do not know,” Mrs. Madison replied. “Except that it is the perfect location for his import business, and nothing else similar is available for purchase. I suppose also the size is greater than anything else at hand.”

“I would definitely be sure to review the contract with a lawyer,” Wade said. “I would hate to see you go farther away, but I know this area isn't as safe as it once was. There is a ruthlessness among some of these people—they care nothing about life.”

“So you believe we should sell?” Mrs. Madison asked.

Wade had given it quite a bit of thought. “I suppose it might be best. I wouldn't handle the arrangements yourselves, however.”

“What about church on Sunday?” Mrs. Gibson asked. “We will still be close enough to walk, but without you as our escort,
I would not feel at ease. You never know when some rogue might seek to attack us.”

Poisie nodded. “No woman is safe. I heard it said that there are men who give no thought to age and will take liberties with any unescorted woman.”

“Let me put your minds at ease,” Wade replied. “I will continue to walk you to church. I'm not sure where this house is located, but I promise you I will see to it.”

“What a relief!” Mrs. Gibson declared, fanning herself. “I can't tell you how much this has weighed on my mind.”

“It's weighed on mine, as well,” Mrs. Madison admitted. “And were Mr. Welby less persistent, I would probably put the decision aside for a time.”

“Don't let him push you to make a deal you aren't ready for,” Wade said. “It's true this area of town is changing, and I would feel better having you ladies living in a respectable residential area, but Mr. Welby needn't be the one who makes up your minds.”

“But he is persistent,” Miss Poisie declared.

“And possibly constipated,” Mrs. Gibson added in her sober fashion. “Not only that, but there is some concern about whether or not he's a brandy drinker.”

“Brandy?” Wade asked, having no idea where that thought had come from.

Miss Poisie nodded. “Sister was certain she smelled it on his breath.”

“Well, I suppose it wouldn't surprise me,” Wade began, trying his best to remain serious, “that Mr. Welby imbibed from time to time. He is, after all, a businessman, and often those dealings are handled with a libation or two being shared.”

“Mr. Madison, God rest his soul, was completely against
alcohol,” Miss Poisie declared. “I don't think he would enjoy Glory knowing a brandy drinker had purchased his building.”

Mrs. Gibson leaned forward. “First it's brandy, and the next thing you know, they're reading Darwin. That's how it was with Mr. Gibson.” She gave a shudder, as if the shameful memory were too much.

Abrianna caught Wade just as he was about to leave. She knew by the look on his face that his time spent with her aunts had been trying. “Would you like to have some cookies and milk before you head out?”

“That sounds good. Your aunts were so upset that they didn't even offer me refreshments.”

Abrianna frowned. “That certainly isn't like them, but I know they are seriously considering the possibility of moving. Aunt Miriam hasn't bothered to read her morning paper in the last week, and Aunt Selma put aside her embroidery and took up crocheting. She says that no woman can give her mind over to fancy work when there are heavy issues to consider.”

Wade looked at her oddly for a moment. “And what about you? Your aunts told me that Mr. Welby has set his cap for you. Are you considering heavy issues such as courtship and marriage?”

Abrianna burst out laughing. “Oh, goodness no. I couldn't be less interested in Mr. Welby. I've done as my aunts suggested and visited with him at the receptions, but honestly, I find him to be something of a dullard. Not only that, but”—she lowered her voice—“I fear he might be a Democrat. Oh, he says he's a Republican, but I think he may have voted for Grover Cleveland, and that makes him a Mugwump at best. I doubt I could ever love a Mugwump.” She paused a moment.

Not wishing to sound harsh, she added. “I could be wrong, but I doubt I am. I'm certain I heard him say that he voted for the president. He didn't tell me directly, so perhaps he was just saying so to impress the man to whom he said it, but if that's the case he's a liar, and that's worse than being a Mugwump. After all, the Lord doesn't say anything about Mugwumps in the Ten Commandments, but He does speak about bearing false witness.”

Wade took hold of her shoulders. “Abrianna, just take a breath and listen to me. I think I witnessed Welby up to something down at the wharf. I don't know that it was illegal, but it looked underhanded. Not only that, but Thane said the man does not have a good reputation among the working class, and furthermore, his reputation with the elite might be out of a forced situation.”

“Goodness,” she said, shaking her head, “Mr. Welby seems to be a plethora of problems.”

“But you aren't one of them—right?”

Abrianna found his question confusing. “What do you mean? The man said he wanted to court me, and I said no. Well, I told him that I wasn't interested in courting anyone. I didn't want to hurt his feelings just because of . . . well . . . his political alliance.”

Wade let go his hold. “I'm glad.”

“I take satisfaction in the fact that it pleases you,” Abrianna said, still confused. “Now, do you want cookies and milk or not?”

He shook his head. “No, I'd best get going. I have to get back to work.” He paused at the door. “You aren't sneaking out anymore, are you?”

Abrianna wrinkled up her nose. “Must you always think the worst of me?”

He smiled. “Sorry. I just thought I'd make sure you were staying safe.”

She watched him walk away, thankful that he didn't press the matter. The truth was, she had continued her escapades, but she wasn't about to admit to it. He would only get upset and then relay the information to her aunts, and if she knew anything about Wade Ackerman, he would make good on nailing her door and windows shut to keep her inside.

Kolbein Booth sat in deep thought and enjoyed the sonata being played by one of Mrs. Madison's young ladies. He had determined to speak tonight to Abrianna about Lenore now that he had accepted the position with Heatherstone, Heatherstone, and Blunt. He'd also given serious consideration to finding a place to live but wanted to know first if he had any chance with the beautiful Miss Fulcher.

Miss Poisie had been hesitant to let him in. It wasn't a day that had been set aside for male visitors, but her sister quickly came to his defense and reminded Poisie that he was to be their lawyer if they decided to sell the building, and because of this they should visit with him even on days that were not set aside for receiving male visitors.

Her reasoning amused him, but Kolbein refrained from suggesting he was there for any other reason than to discuss business. He would bide his time, talking real estate and sales, and keep an eye open for an opportunity to speak with Abrianna alone.

After talking at length with Mrs. Madison and explaining to her the various nuances of real estate contracts, Kolbein accepted an invitation to stay for lunch. The meal hadn't afforded
him a chance to speak to Abrianna, however, so now as he was listening to the young ladies practice for a piano recital, Kolbein found himself most desperate.

When Abrianna got up and left the room, Kolbein took the opportunity to do likewise. He followed her for a short distance and then called out her name. She turned in surprise.

“I'm sorry if I startled you,” he told her, “but I had hoped to speak to you . . . in private.”

“Of course,” Abrianna said, smiling. “We can talk here or in the kitchen. That's where I was headed. I wanted to make sure that Liang didn't need help cleaning up. I'm still not that good at cooking, but I can clean.”

He smiled. “I'm sure you're good at both.” He followed her to the kitchen and was happy to find that Liang had already cleaned the room and departed for other duties. He motioned to the kitchen table. “Might you sit with me for a moment?”

“Of course.” Abrianna took the chair he offered and waited for him to be seated. “But you mustn't be deceived by such thoughts that I can cook. I really am quite poor at preparing food.”

Kolbein thought to stop her in that train of thought, but he found it unnecessary, for just as Abrianna was known to do, she changed the subject.

“You know, Lenore should be home any day now. I know she promised she would come see me as soon as possible, although I have no way of knowing when that will be.”

“So you haven't heard from her recently?”

“No, but then I really didn't expect to get word. She sent me two letters while she was away, and neither gave me an idea of when we might expect her. She talked about the places her mother and father took her for dinners. Do you know they charge five dollars for a meal at some of the stuffy restaurants?
Five dollars! That's more than many people make in a week. It ought to be against the law.”

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