Colorado Courtship Read online

  “I don’t think I can do this.” The other woman slumped onto a chair.

  “Do you feel all right?” Violet took her hand.

  “No, I feel sick through and through. My heart’s a big hard rock in my chest.” She grasped Violet’s hand hard. “Stay with me, Violet. Will you stay right with me, please?”

  “Well, I—I don’t know. I don’t usually—”

  “Please,” Callie begged. “Please stay close. I don’t know how I’m going to bear this.”

  Violet didn’t know how she would bear it either, but she couldn’t say so. Callie needed her. She would feel the same if it was her, and she would need a friend. “Yes. Yes, of course I’ll stay with you.”

  More tears flowed down the other woman’s cheeks. “Thank you.”

  Violet started talking to herself right then and there. She could do this. She would do this. She would set aside her debilitating fear and be a friend.

  * * *

  Ben Charles couldn’t have been more surprised to see Violet in a black dress, similar to his sister’s, as the three women entered the drawing room. Callie Jefferson supported herself on Violet’s arm, and trembled visibly. Violet, on the other hand, looked cool and calm. Tessa led them to chairs, where they waited while he went out of the room to greet townspeople and direct them along the hallway to the small chapel, where Joseph’s body lay. Reverend Densmore and his wife had arrived early, and the reverend spoke to Callie.

  Once Ben Charles thought everyone who would be coming had arrived, he went into the drawing room. “It’s time.”

  He offered Callie his arm, and she leaned upon him, trembling. Violet supported her on the other side, and they approached the chapel.

  He glanced at Callie’s face, then at Violet’s, and didn’t know which one was more visibly shaken. The color had drained from Violet’s complexion and her lips were white. He feared she would be the one to faint or be sick, but she stoically walked forward.

  He led Callie to the pine box supported on a skirted riser, where she could say her final goodbyes to her husband. Afterward he and Violet helped her to a wooden folding chair, and Reverend Densmore came forward to speak.

  The reverend was good at conducting funeral services, always sharing encouragement for the departed’s loved ones. Today he spoke of how Joseph Jefferson had left behind earthly things and gone to sit at the right hand of Jesus.

  Callie seemed to take strength from his words. She clung to Violet’s hand until Ben Charles wondered how Violet kept from crying out. But Violet remained unmoved, handing Callie a fresh handkerchief, comfortingly rubbing the back of her hand.

  Tessa moved to the pianoforte behind a palm plant, where she played a hymn and sang along in her lovely unwavering contralto voice. His sister was such a help, he sometimes wondered how he would ever get by without her. When the song ended, the reverend prayed.

  Once it was time for Ben Charles and Henry to put the lid on the casket, he asked Callie if she wanted another moment. She shook her head, and the two men covered the pine box.

  Townspeople and a few ranchers offered Callie their condolences. She hadn’t wanted a meal, so the service ended.

  The Jeffersons’ neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Cawley, waited for Callie to gather her things. She was going home with them for the time being. Callie hugged Violet and thanked her again and again.

  Violet returned the hug and followed them out of doors. Ben Charles and Henry lifted the casket to the cart, so they could move it to the mausoleum. There would be a burial service in the spring.

  Returning from the cemetery nearly an hour later, Ben Charles caught sight of a lone figure standing in front of the house. Violet. Unmoving.

  “Henry, will you take the hearse to the stable, please?” He jumped down and strode across the snow-cleared drive to where she stood. “Violet?”

  Her lips were blue from the cold. She didn’t respond. “Violet?”

  Finally she turned her head to look at him.

  “What are you doing out here?” He grabbed both of her hands and chafed them between his to warm her fingers. “Your hands are freezing.”

  “They’re dead,” she said.

  He glanced across the road and back. “Who is dead?”

  “All of them. All of them.”

  “Come inside.” When she didn’t respond to his urging, he swooped her up in his arms and carried her into the house. He took her into the drawing room, stoked the fire and brought her a blanket. “Tessa!” he shouted up the stairs and shrugged out of his coat.

  “I’m up here.”

  “Violet’s been out front all this time. Will you make her tea?”

  “What?” She darted down the stairs. “What was she doing out there?”

  “Just standing.”

  “I’m so sorry. I thought she’d gone to the kitchen. Is she all right?”

  “We need to get her warm. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

  Back at the chair where he’d settled Violet, he knelt at her feet and took her hand. At her detached behavior a shudder of unease moved through him. “Violet, will you talk to me?”

  “They all died, Ben Charles.”

  “Who were they?”

  “I didn’t know them. Mothers and fathers. Children. Mama. Mama died, too.” She turned her dark gold-flecked gaze on him, and he knew she was speaking to him now, telling him something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but she needed to say it.

  “Why don’t you tell me everything,” he coaxed in a low tone.

  “We were riding the train back from Pennsylvania, where my mother’s sister lived. One minute Mama was reading to me. The next moment the sounds of metal were so loud we couldn’t hear each other scream.” She blinked and relayed the story as though it had happened to someone else. “We were tossed about. The screams and cries were as terrifying as the confusion.”

  “You were in a train accident.”

  She nodded. “It seemed an eternity, those minutes, even though the whole thing happened suddenly. And then everything was still.”

  The hair on Ben Charles’s neck stood up at the telling.

  “It was so quiet,” she said barely above a whisper. “Moaning. A baby cried, but it was far away. I think I cried, too. My mama didn’t answer me. She was lying across my legs and something heavy was on top of her. I couldn’t move.”

  The realization of what she was revealing sunk in, and he struggled to comprehend. She’d been in a railcar accident in which her mother and others had died, and she’d been trapped.

  “How long?” he asked. “How long were you trapped?”

  “Hours.”

  He wanted to cry for her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to take away the nightmare of that day and all the days she’d lived with the memories since. He brushed his thumb across the back of her hand. “How old were you?”

  “Six.”

  All he had were words and words seemed so ineffectual. Too ineffectual for an experience as traumatic as the one she’d suffered.

  “Even though the accident was a blur at the time, the nightmares are as clear as the day it happened. Detail by detail. The waiting. I’ve had nightmares all these years.”

  He nodded his understanding.

  “When my father passed away I asked for a quick graveside service.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. Everyone grieves differently.”

  “Today brought it all back—all the images and sensations I’d tried to keep buried.”

  “But you pushed through that for Callie’s sake. You were a rock for her, Violet.”

  “How do you do it, Ben Charles? How do you watch people suffer like she’s suffering? I thought the other side of it—death—was the worst, but that’s not even half the horror. It’s the living, hurting people who are in the most pain—who cause the most pain.”

  “Those people are going to hurt if I’m there or not,” he said. “It’s a fact of life, people die. Each one of us comes into the world and each one goes out. Wive
s and husbands and sons and daughters, we all lose loved ones. It’s part of life. If I can make a difference for them when the time comes, then I feel as though I’ve made a contribution to the bigger picture. I may only have one or two days with them, but in that time I want to make the experience as easy to bear as I can.”

  “You do. I’ve seen that you do.”

  “These bodies of ours are merely vessels we live in while we’re here on earth. They help us do the work that needs to be done. Once we die, our spirits move on to eternal reward, and what remains is nothing to fear. Joseph isn’t in that shell you saw today. That’s his earthly vessel. If he knew Jesus as his Lord and Savior, he’s in glory, seated at the right hand of God.”

  Violet’s gaze shifted to Tessa, and Ben Charles realized his sister had been sitting behind him this whole time. She came forward to give Violet the cup and saucer she’d been holding. He let go of Violet’s hand so she could take it.

  Violet sipped her tea. “You could never have anticipated what an inappropriate cook you were hiring.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he disagreed.

  Her gaze touched on his chin, his eyes and lips. “What do you believe?”

  “I think you know.”

  She appeared to think about her answer only a moment. “You believe in God’s provision.”

  He nodded. “It’s harder to believe you came here by mere coincidence than it is to believe God directed you to us for new understanding and healing. God saw your need and created a plan for the day when you would trust Him to take away this pain. The Bible says He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

  “When you prayed for Guy Chapman’s family that day weeks ago, I wondered if it was too late for me, but I was hesitant to ask.”

  “Ask what, Violet?”

  “If it was too late for me to have peace and comfort about my mother’s death.”

  “It’s never too late to pray,” he said softly. “I’ve been praying for you all along, without knowing the specific problem. I asked God to let you trust me enough to tell me.”

  “I trust you.”

  “And I’ve prayed for the truth to be revealed about all things, including what happened back in Ohio.”

  “You’ve prayed for me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Will you pray now?”

  Ben Charles turned and reached for Tessa’s hand, drawing her down to the floor beside him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Lord, when one of your children is hurting, we all hurt. Violet has lived with the painful memories of that day when her mother died for too many years.” Ben Charles stopped and got up, returning with a Bible from one of the shelves. Opening it, he flipped to the passage he wanted. “‘O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.’”

  He closed the Bible and took both women’s hands again. “Thank You, Lord, there is no fear in Your perfect love. Thank You for making provision for Violet. I ask that You show her Your perfect love and grant her the peace that comes with knowing You and abiding in Your will. Deliver her now from the pain of the past and bring her into the peace and prosperity You’ve promised. Those whose sins are forgiven have no fear of death, and You’ve given each of us the victory through Your son, Jesus.”

  Tessa’s soft voice continued the prayer. “Thank You, Jesus, for bringing Violet into our home and our lives. Your mercies are new every morning, and I pray that each day You open her eyes more and more to Your love, Your endless mercy and abounding grace.”

  As they said their amens together, tears poured down Violet’s cheeks. Warmth flowed over her and through her, and a sense of calm and peace rested on her with a new assurance. What had happened in her childhood was a terrible experience. She would never completely forget. But she didn’t have to let the memory control her life and blacken her future.

  She might never be as completely at ease dealing with death as these two were, but she wasn’t going to be bound to the past any longer. As though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Thank You, Lord.

  That night she rested well, and when she woke, Callie was on her mind. She prayed for her and made a mental note to check on her later in the week. She had a lot of baking to do for the Ladies’ Aid Society event.

  For two days she baked and frosted and filled pastries with a light heart, humming to herself, sometimes praying and always being grateful.

  The evening of the event she’d laid out her clothing when there was a knock. She pulled on her dressing gown and opened the door to discover Ben Charles. He wore a suit and tie and a brilliant white shirt. His appearance and smile took her breath away. He’d become dear to her, so dear she ached for words and actions to let him know. Her heart was full. He held out a small box. “I got you something.”

  Surprised, she hesitated momentarily before reaching for it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d received a gift. It had probably been something from her mother when she was a girl. Her heart sped up. “Why did you get me a gift?”

  “No reason except I thought you’d like this.”

  She removed the green ribbon from the box and lifted the lid. Inside lay a pair of silver-and-pearl hair combs. Violet tucked the lid under the box so she had a free hand to take one out. “These are lovely.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You could say you like them, if you do.”

  “Of course I do. I’ve never had anything so exquisite. I’m just surprised.”

  “I’ll let you finish getting ready.”

  “Thank you.” Words were inadequate for what was in her heart.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled before turning away.

  Violet carried the box to the bureau and set it down. She took out the combs and held them, ran a finger over the smooth pearls. It was an extravagant gift. What was she to make of it? She redid her hair, sweeping up the sides and securing them with the combs. She turned her head in the lamplight to see how they looked against her dark hair. The effect was striking.

  After donning her new rose-red dress with the embroidered sateen yoke and sleeves, fitted forearms and fur collar, she tugged on kid-leather boots and the matching hat and went in search of Tessa. The girl exclaimed over Violet’s dress and hair—noticed the combs—and together they descended the stairs to the foyer, where their coats had been hung on hooks.

  Ben Charles joined them from the drawing room, and his eyes lit up. “I have the pleasure of the company of the two prettiest girls in all of Colorado. One for each arm.”

  Tessa laughed and reached on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Help me on with my coat.”

  He did, and all the while his eyes were on Violet. She waited and turned her back to slip her arms into the sleeves when it was her turn. The appreciative look on his face touched her. His gaze went from her hair to her eyes and lips, and he gave her a private smile.

  Violet’s heart fluttered.

  He had taken her across town earlier that afternoon to deliver and help arrange all the pastries at the Walsinger Estate, where the recital was to be held. Now Ben Charles ushered them into the buggy and urged Clarence into a trot.

  The rooms in Sebird and Dollie Walsinger’s home were large enough to entertain numerous guests comfortably. Ben Charles told her Sebird owned stock in the railroad, and had started three of the businesses in Carson Springs, including the bank and the newspaper. He and Dollie were down-to-earth and friendly, however, and Violet’s concerns about not fitting in were put to rest.

  Chairs had been arranged in an enormous music room decorated with velvet drapes, paintings, potted ferns, even a baby grand piano and two elaborately carved and gilded organs. Violet hadn’t imagined the event would be this grand or anticipated the number of people who would be sampling her pastries.
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  “Violet, there you are.” Lenora Grimes joined them, dressed in a russet gown that bared her shoulders. She wore three strands of pearls and matching earbobs swung when she spoke. “I’ve been telling everyone they’re in for a treat this evening. I confess I tasted one of each. What do you call the balls filled with dates and rolled in coconut?”

  “My father simply called them delights.”

  “How fitting. The kringla twists melt in the mouth, and those cookies with the clove...?”

  “Pepper kakor,” Violet told her.

  “You’ve outdone yourself. I can’t thank you enough.” Lenora turned to Ben Charles. “Does she cook everything that well?”

  “Indeed she does.” He gave Lenora a crooked smile. “We’ve never eaten so well.”

  “What beautiful hair combs, Violet,” Lenora complimented.

  Violet’s cheeks warmed. “Thank you. They were a gift.”

  Lenora’s gaze moved from Violet to Ben Charles and she smiled. After she moved away, Violet glanced at him, and he winked at her.

  Soon they were asked to take seats, and the president of the Ladies’ Aid Society spoke to them about where the funds that were raised would be going this year. The group sponsored several charities and a children’s hospital.

  The musicians were accomplished, playing pieces on harpsichord, organ and violin. Lastly the singers performed, and Violet found it amazing so many talented people lived in or near Carson Springs.

  “I’ve never heard music or voices so beautiful,” she whispered to Ben Charles.

  The entire evening was enchanting. Later, when it was time for refreshments, her baked confections were praised as highly as the performances.

  “Wherever did you come by these lily-shaped cookies?” a woman asked Lenora.

  “Those were made by none other than Miss Violet Bennett,” the woman answered.

  “It’s Kristofferson,” Violet corrected. “Violet Kristofferson. Those are calla lilies.”

  “It must have taken you hours to make all of these,” the woman said in amazement.

  “Once you’ve shaped as many as I have, they don’t take that long.”