Colorado Courtship Read online

  “Where did you learn to do this?”

  Violet explained to her and eventually numerous people knew how her Swedish father had taught her his specialties in his pastry shop. Ben Charles kept her punch cup filled, and she chatted with everyone who approached her.

  * * *

  Thomas Everett’s family had attended the recital, so Tessa had yet another opportunity to spend time with the young man. Ben Charles observed the two as they smiled awkwardly at each other over cups of punch. He made a point of speaking to Thomas’s parents and thanking them for seeing that Tessa had a nice time at the birthday party.

  As he watched Violet talk to the townspeople who greeted her and praised her pastries, he took pride in seeing her happy and interacting with others. He was grateful to Lenora for giving her this opportunity to not only meet people, but to feel confident and accomplished.

  He’d been attracted to her all along, as he’d told her, but he hadn’t been comfortable with his growing feelings. It had seemed wrong to bring her so far to work for him and then change the stakes.

  He no longer thought that way. If she felt about him the way he felt toward her, they had something they could make work.

  She’d worn a red dress with fur trim, and the color was striking on her. Her near-black hair was the perfect contrast for her ivory skin, and the pearls on her hair combs stood out. When he stood close enough, he could smell her fragrant hair. He imagined it would be soft and silky to the touch.

  It wasn’t only her beauty that appealed to him. Every day he recognized another quality he admired. He wanted what the Grimeses had. He wanted Violet as his bride and to have her at his side for the rest of their lives. He wanted to have children with her and watch them grow up. He wanted the sign on the mortuary to again one day read Hammond and Son.

  His chest swelled at the imagined thought of calling her his wife.

  This was nothing like his experience with Madeline so long ago. Violet hadn’t come to him out of a morbid curiosity about his occupation. She’d had a genuine fear that she’d carried since her childhood, and that he believed she would overcome with the Lord’s help. She was compassionate and kind. Generous and sincere. Only one thing stood in the way.

  They hadn’t discussed it further, but if she had been blamed for starting the bakery fire back in Ohio, the truth would have to be told so her name could be cleared. He’d been thinking about the matter for a while, but now the time had come. Tomorrow he would send telegrams to officials to get an idea of what needed to be done.

  Again he would place his confidence in God for a good outcome.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was snowing again. Ben Charles had said he’d be back before dark and had ridden into town.

  The previous day Violet had helped Callie move her things into Carson Springs. She had sold the ranch, and Ben Charles had been the first person she’d paid. She had paid for a headstone, as well. They had taken her clothing and personal items to a two-story house on a shaded street where Joseph Jefferson’s aunt lived. The elderly woman needed someone to look after her, and Callie needed a home for herself and the baby, which would arrive soon. The arrangement pleased Violet, and Callie was close enough she could call on her.

  One of Callie’s new neighbors had given Violet a chicken in return for her date-delight recipe, and now the pieces were frying to a golden crisp on top of the stove while she stirred slaw and kept rolls warm.

  The kitchen door opened and a flurry of cold air and snowflakes swirled in around Ben Charles’s ankles.

  “You’re just in time for supp—”

  He tossed his hat toward the rack, but it missed and sailed to the floor. “Violet!”

  His face was red from the cold and his hair disheveled. “Yes?”

  “Sit down.”

  “I’m putting supper on the table.”

  He grabbed a pot holder and moved the heavy skillet of chicken off the flame. “Supper can wait.”

  Her heart sank at the urgency in his voice. She dried her hands. “What’s wrong?”

  He pointed to a chair. “Sit.”

  She obeyed.

  He shrugged out of his coat after taking a folded piece of paper from the pocket.

  “What’s that?”

  “Telegrams from the Ohio State Police, the local police office and a couple of shop owners near the Finneys’ bakery.”

  Violet’s heart leaped into her throat. She flattened her palm against her chest. What had he done? “Am I under arrest?”

  “No, you’re not under arrest.”

  “Tell me!”

  “There was no crime committed. There wasn’t even a fire!”

  She blinked in consternation. “What?”

  “Obviously Wade Finney made up that story about setting a fire with your apron to get rid of you. And it worked. But there was no fire. The bakery is still standing right where you left it.”

  “But I saw the smoke. I heard people running toward it.”

  “Seems there was a report of a trash barrel smoking in the alley, but it was thought to be cinders caught fire. Wade didn’t start a fire and he didn’t accuse you of anything. He made you think he’d done it, and once you’d gone he was off the hook from marrying you. According to one of the shopkeepers who responded, he’s still raising a ruckus in town, and his father is at his wit’s end.”

  The news took a minute to settle in her mind and turn to sharp anger. “Why, that no-account, low-down, good for nothing...”

  “Person who drove you to Colorado,” he finished for her.

  The flash of resentment she felt was minute compared to the flood of relief. She blinked and stared at him. “I haven’t been accused of anything?”

  “Not a thing.”

  Her mind turned over a dozen thoughts at once, making sense of them. “What would you have done if your findings had been different?”

  “I’d have gone to Ohio or hired a lawyer or done whatever needed to be done to clear your name. We couldn’t just leave the concern hanging over our heads forever.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been contacting people in Ohio?”

  “I wanted to have all the facts first.”

  “Not because you didn’t trust I’d told you the truth.”

  “No, of course not. I knew you told me the truth. I wanted to find out if the police had a case against you or if they were searching for you, and if so I needed to prove you innocent. We couldn’t have moved forward with that uncertainty hanging over our heads. Don’t you see? Now you’re truly free because you know the truth.”

  Ben Charles was right of course. She’d been foolish to ignore the problem or think she could hide from it forever. Violet had been released from her imagined chains of bondage. “You sought the truth just to prove me innocent?”

  “I sought the truth to give you the freedom to make a decision.”

  “What kind of decision?”

  He looked down at his rumpled shirt and ran a hand through his hair before meeting her eyes. “This wasn’t how I planned it at all.”

  “Ben Charles?” A ripple of unease passed through her.

  He strode forward and pulled her to her feet and into his embrace. Lowering his head, he kissed her soundly. She forgot about their discussion and lost herself in the warm tenderness of his affection. Yes, this man had become dear to her. She dropped the towel she’d forgotten she was holding and raised both hands to bracket his face.

  He separated them only enough to whisper, “I love you, Violet.”

  Joy spread through her heart and worked its way to her limbs. “I probably smell like chicken.”

  “I like chicken.”

  “I love you, too,” she told him with more assuredness than she’d ever felt about anything. “You have changed my life and changed my heart. I can’t take my next breath without thinking of you and wanting to be with you.”

  He grabbed her wrists and lowered himself to his knees, where he looked up at her. “Be my wife.
I didn’t know how much was missing from my life until you came here and showed me. I thought I was content, but I was only telling myself that to keep the loneliness at bay. I might have gone on that way forever if you hadn’t chipped away the barriers around my heart with your tenderness. Marry me, Violet and I’ll spend all my days making you happy and showing you how much I love you.”

  Overwhelming love and joy brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t speak around the swelling emotion in her throat.

  “Stand up,” she managed, and he obeyed. She flattened her palms against his chest and felt the steady life-affirming beat of his heart. “You have a heart big enough to hold enough love for a lifetime. I’ve seen how you love, and I will be the most fortunate woman who ever lived to have you love me like that, Ben Charles.”

  “Did you say yes?” he asked.

  “I’m saying it now. Yes. Yes. Yes. I’ll be your wife.”

  He kissed her again, a kiss filled with promises and hope. A kiss that held their future and encompassed their love. She was free to give in to her feelings, to show him her love this way, to tell him as often as she liked. Thank You, Lord.

  * * *

  On a sunny Saturday afternoon several weeks later Violet and Ben Charles stood before Reverend Densmore at the front of the Carson Springs First Christian Church. Tessa finished playing a hymn on the organ and their friends gathered behind them. As the last strains died away, Tessa stood and came to Violet’s side.

  Reverend Densmore read a few verses from his Bible and led the couple through their vows. When it came time for Ben Charles to put the ring on her finger, Violet gazed with surprise at the exquisite diamond-and-emerald band.

  “It was my mother’s,” he whispered.

  Violet turned quickly to seek Tessa’s approval, and the girl smiled through her tears and nodded. Violet was honored to have something that meant so much to them both. She felt cherished that Ben Charles loved her so deeply. Her gift of embroidered handkerchiefs she’d given him didn’t seem nearly enough, but he’d assured her he treasured them.

  “By the power vested in me by God and the state of Colorado, I now pronounce you man and wife.” The reverend closed his Bible.

  She raised on tiptoe for a kiss to reaffirm their sacred vows and seal this commitment before God. Ben Charles’s eyes shone.

  They turned and the congregation enveloped them with congratulations. Callie Jefferson gently handed a flannel-wrapped bundle into Violet’s arms.

  Violet nestled the baby girl and raised her close to brush her lips across her downy forehead and inhale her scent. “Thank you for coming to our wedding, Annalie.”

  Ben Charles’s large hand dwarfed the infant’s head as he smoothed her feathery hair. “How is your little blessing, Mrs. Jefferson?”

  “She’s a comfort, I assure you. I thank God for her every day. I pray for a baby as pretty and healthy for you two very soon.”

  “Thank you,” Ben Charles said. “We will appreciate every blessing that comes our way.” He kissed Violet’s forehead.

  She handed the baby back to Callie and took her new husband’s hand. Neighbors offered them wishes and filed out the door.

  “I’ve been waiting to eat cake all day,” Tessa said, motioning them forward. The Walsingers had graciously offered their home for a reception.

  “Not every bride makes her own wedding cake,” Ben Charles teased.

  “Not every bride bakes like Violet,” Tessa answered with a laugh. She donned her coat and dashed out of doors.

  Ben Charles took Violet’s wrist and pulled her into the deserted coatroom. “I love you, Mrs. Hammond.”

  “I adore you, Mr. Hammond.”

  He kissed her and she thanked God for her many blessings this side of heaven. What had seemed impossible only a short time ago had become a reality. She had a husband, a sister, even friends. And she believed without a doubt that the all-encompassing love of God would sustain them for a lifetime.

  * * * * *

  Dear Reader,

  What better way to spend a cold winter day or night than curled up with a book—and maybe a cup of hot chocolate? Some stories are simply more fun to write than others. Violet and Ben Charles’s story was one of those, a story with two people meant for each other but fearful to risk their hearts. It’s unusual for me to create a character who is not a person of faith, so writing from Violet’s perspective was a challenge—but a challenge I enjoyed.

  There’s nothing I like better than creating story people who are so different from each other that it seems there’s no way they will ever work things out to be together. So we have Ben Charles, a man comfortable in his profession as the undertaker and confident in his belief in God. Violet, on the other hand, is fearful of anything pertaining to death and has little knowledge of God...so I introduced them to each other—and let them make their own discoveries.

  If you enjoy their story as much as I enjoyed writing it, drop me a line at [email protected]. I’d love to hear from you.

  And don’t forget the marshmallows!

  Cheryl St. John

  Questions for Discussion

  Violet arrives in Colorado with only a few dresses, but two crates of books. The first time I ever moved, I cluelessly packed all my books in large boxes—boxes my poor husband could barely budge. We laugh about it now. Have you moved books with you from place to place?

  Violet learned her baking skills from her father and has fond memories of her mother cooking. Do you have memories of being in the kitchen with a parent or grandparent? What did you take away from that time?

  Even though Violet is put off by Ben Charles’s occupation, she admires his confidence and appreciates his love for his sister. Can you see how his example leads her to trust him and provides opportunities for him to share about his faith?

  Ben Charles believes God provides for us before we ever call on Him. One of his examples is the Israelites’ escape from Egypt. Can you see ways God has made advance provision for you?

  Violet’s tragic past is a dark cloud over her life. We can’t change our pasts, but we can place our confidence in God to guide us forward into the fullness of His joy. If there is anything holding you back from being all God wants you to be, maybe this is a good time to trust Him. Is there someone who will pray with you?

  The Rancher’s Sweetheart

  Debra Ullrick

  To my wonderful husband, Rick,

  whom I love so dearly.

  Thanks for putting up with me for thirty-eight years and for loving me for me. Your unconditional love has taught me so much and has helped me weather many a storm and trial. Thank you for always being there for me, for supporting me and for being so understanding when I’m up against a deadline. You’re my hero, and you always will be.

  I love you so very much!

  For I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

  —Psalms 139:14

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Questions for Discussion

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  Kremmling, Colorado

  1898

  People froze to death in these kinds of blizzard conditions.

  When Sunny Weston had started out from her family’s ranch this morning for the five-hour ride that had now turned to seven, the sun had been shining. Now blinding snow swirled around her and her two horses, making it nearly impossible to see where she was going. She squinted, barely able to make out the aspen trees just a mere ten yards in front of her. Right now all she could do was hope and pray that she’d make it to her uncle’s ranch alive.

  If there was ever a time to pray, that time was now. “Lord, help me to get there safely. Send
ing a few angels to watch over me and guide me wouldn’t hurt none neither. Thank You, Lord.”

  Her fingers stung and the wet gloves weren’t helping any. Snow pelted into her face and eyes, stinging everything else with a head-numbing chill. Her beaver cowboy hat and knit wool scarf did a fair job of keeping the icy needles off her but not from the exposed parts. She wanted to dip her head to keep the ice pellets from hitting her face, but couldn’t because she needed to see where she was going.

  The farther she went, the more she struggled to get her bearings. She had no choice now but to depend on familiar landmarks to show her the way. When the fenced cemetery that held generations of Westons came into view, she felt some relief knowing she was heading in the right direction.

  As she passed the tombstones, something sharp like barbed wire scraped painfully across her heart. They reminded her of her parents’ graves back at their ranch.

  Her ranch now.

  She still hadn’t gotten used to calling it her ranch and probably never would. But it was true nonetheless because three years ago her ma had died, then her pa passed away two months back. Her heart ached something awful, and she suspected it always would. The back of her eyes stung, but there’d be no tears today. She had to be strong. Had to press on. All the other choices in life had been buried right alongside her folks.

  Aunt Minnie and Uncle Emmett were probably worried sick about her by now. Her uncle had wanted to send someone to fetch her, but she assured him she didn’t need anyone. Now she hoped her foolish pride didn’t have her regretting that decision.

  She heaved a heavy sigh knowing she would have never had to leave her home in the first place if her family hadn’t lost most of their livestock last year to the worst, deadliest blizzard this part of the county had ever seen. Down here in the lower part of the county they didn’t get hit as hard as her family had living higher up the mountain and all. Uncle Emmett had only lost a few head of cattle and had offered to help her pa, but Pa was a proud man who convinced her uncle they’d be just fine.