Love Inspired Historical November 2014 (82 page)

Not another proposal. Annabelle's heart fluttered in the pit of her stomach. If he asked, she'd almost say yes. Except the retelling of her story reminded her just how little she knew of Joseph. She'd known Henry far longer, had known him to be honorable, and been betrayed.

“Your father is concerned that you might have...feelings...for me.” His shoulders rose and fell as he glanced again in the direction her father had taken Gertie. “I assured him that we were merely friends, but he felt it necessary to clarify my intentions.”

If a person could die of mortification, she'd do so right at this very moment. How could her father be so...so... Annabelle sighed. She did have feelings for Joseph. But they weren't the sort a person ever acted upon.

Joseph cleared his throat. “You know my situation. I have a brother and sisters to care for back home. I intend to move them west somewhere, but I can't promise anything to anyone. All I know is that my duty lies with them. I can't be a proper husband to any woman knowing that I have seven others to provide for.”

He looked at her with such tenderness, it made her heart want to break. “If I were to take a wife, I would want her to be every bit as bold and strong as you. But I can't. It's impossible for me to marry. Not when I have the children to raise. It's an impossible burden to put on anyone.”

He had said as much before. Yet this time, it made her heart ache in an unfamiliar way. “Of course your family must come first,” she said, hoping it sounded sympathetic to his cause. It wasn't as though she wanted him for herself.

Joseph's slow nod only made her feel worse. “Good. So then we have an understanding. Your father will be much relieved to know that your heart isn't entangled.”

She forced a smile to her face, not caring if he saw through it or not. Over Joseph's shoulder, she could see her father and Gertie returning. For all they saw, it was a perfectly amiable conversation that wasn't creating strange feelings in her stomach. She was fine. Just fine. Or at least she would be once these feelings left. Because they all knew that based on both his words and hers, anything between them was an impossibility.

* * *

The old Annabelle had returned. Joseph watched as she greeted her father with a smile and a too-friendly tone. On the surface, the conversation had gone well, but he knew better than to trust her glib answers. But what else could he do? Carrying on the conversation meant digging in to the places of each other's hearts that neither was willing to risk. He simply couldn't afford to, and whatever Annabelle's motivations, it didn't matter.

Frank stared at him with a keen eye, questioning. Joseph gave a small nod to indicate that they'd had the conversation.

“All is well?” Frank addressed the question to Annabelle, but looked at Joseph.

“Yes, Father,” she told him in a perfectly proper tone. “Joseph and I are clear that neither of us have intentions toward the other.”

Frank looked almost shocked, taking a step back. Gertie's soft gasp all but accused Annabelle of being impertinent. Then again, the whole situation bordered on impertinence. Things had been fine between him and Annabelle until her father had decided to protect his daughter's honor.

Joseph rubbed his temples. He couldn't fault Frank. If he'd thought anyone trifling with any of his sisters' affections, he'd have insisted upon the same conversation.

Annabelle indicated the pot beside her. “I have the potatoes ready. If someone could put them on the fire, I would be much obliged.”

The rest of the evening passed with the same sullen silence he'd had from Annabelle when they first met. No one could accuse her of being rude, and some would probably even say that she was pleasant. But she wasn't Annabelle.

Why should he care? He wasn't supposed to have these feelings. Joseph rose from his spot by the fire. “I'm going to retire for the evening.”

None of the other men had come in, so Joseph lit a lamp and began looking through the books he'd brought from his pa's cabin. The first book appeared to have strange markings and notes in the margins. Almost as though he'd used it as a sort of diary, only it wasn't straight prose. Certain words were circled, but even put together, they made no sense.

Annabelle might claim there was no treasure, but his pa wouldn't have gone to all of this trouble to throw people off track if there hadn't been. He'd covered it up too carefully. And that wasn't the sort of man his pa was.

Plus with the attacks on Annabelle and Nugget...someone was after something.

Perhaps the silver wasn't worth pursuing. Not at the risk of... Joseph sighed and closed the book. What alternative did he have? How else would he provide for his family?

He picked up his pa's Bible and began searching through it. Entire passages had been underlined, not just the random words of his other book. It should have brought comfort to Joseph to know that his pa had read God's Word. How could he then justify his relationship with another woman when he had a wife waiting for him at home? His pa's first priority should have been his family, yet he'd created this whole new life without them. He could have accepted that his pa had fallen in love. But what was love when you had a family to provide for? Certainly the Bible didn't condone such a life.

Joseph wasn't going to be like his pa, forsaking family for love.

He tried reading the pages, but they seemed tainted, coming from his pa's Bible.
Lord, I know these feelings about my pa are wrong. Please help me forgive.

Those words seemed easier to think than to live out. The words in the Bible jumbled in such a way that he could barely read them.

Maybe the Psalms would give him some peace. King David had struggled with his enemies, so perhaps his words would comfort. As he flipped to the right section of his Bible, Joseph noticed that his pa had again circled random words. None of it made sense.

Until...

As he looked back and forth between the pages of circled words, he began to see a pattern.
The. Key. To. The. Silver.

Dear Lord, he had found it. His pa had been circling words in his books to indicate where his silver had been hidden. Joseph pulled out his journal and began copying words. Not all of them made sense, and not all of them were as easily connected as the words he'd found. His pa had left a map to his treasure, only he'd done it in a sneaky way so that others couldn't figure it out.
Please Lord, let me be able to decipher the code.

He looked around the tent. With so many people after his pa's silver, it wasn't safe to leave the books lying around. He'd already put Annabelle and Nugget in danger, and he couldn't risk Gertie's family, as well. Tomorrow he'd find a safe place.

The tent flapped open, and Slade entered.

“I didn't know this was your tent.”

Slade eyed him, then shrugged. “I stay here when I'm at camp. Collin's boys stayed up the mountain tonight, so it's just the two of us.”

Even though he had no problem with the other man and would be working with him to find his pa's silver, something about the way Slade looked at him didn't sit right.

“I'm just finishing my Bible reading, so if you'll give me a minute to put the books away, I can turn the lamp out.”

Slade gave another shrug. “Doesn't make any difference to me. I've learned to sleep where I can.”

He laid out his bedroll and made motions of getting ready for bed, but Joseph could feel the other man watching him.

Joseph turned down the lamp and settled in to sleep.

“What's your plan for tomorrow?” Slade's voice broke into the darkness.

“I'm at your mercy. I think going to the site we were talking about earlier today makes a lot of sense.”

Slade grunted. “Be ready to ride at first light.”

The man's snores soon filled the tent, and Joseph wished he could have the same ease. But every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the look in Annabelle's eyes as she talked about the heartbreak she'd endured. He understood that pain. If it weren't for their already awkward situation, they could have comforted each other. But they'd crossed too many lines, and Joseph couldn't afford to get any more emotionally involved with Annabelle.

He tucked the blanket tighter around him. He wasn't supposed to care. Didn't care. Fine, did. Now he was getting to be as bad as Annabelle. Only in this instance, the worst of his lies were the ones he told himself. No, they weren't lies. Just the uncomfortable results of the reality he found himself in. Here, in the dark of night, in the presence of the Lord, he could admit that he might be falling for Annabelle.

Please, Lord, if it's not too much to ask, could You also help me get over my feelings for Annabelle? They're entirely inappropriate, and I want to behave honorably toward her.

Chapter Sixteen

W
hen Annabelle woke, her foot wasn't throbbing as badly. The swelling had gone down. At least she'd be able to do some work today and not be a burden. She shifted the two little girls sleeping almost on top of her, curled together like kittens, noting that Polly was nowhere to be seen. She sighed and struggled to put on her boots. Thankfully Gertie had lent her a more practical pair of shoes. If Polly was already up and working, Annabelle would be scolded for remaining abed.

Her ankle was tender as she stepped on it, but she'd manage. The fire hadn't yet been stirred up. Annabelle grabbed a poker and began stirring the ashes, exposing the red-hot coals. She then added a few pieces of the wood. The fire sprang to life almost immediately.

Remembering where Gertie kept the coffeepot, she pulled it out and began taking the steps to prepare the coffee.

The calm, quiet air felt more peaceful than what Annabelle had ever felt inside the mining camp. Mixed in with the smoky fire, she caught a hint of the pine from the remaining trees. They would soon be taken for the mining operations, she was sure. For now, though, she could watch the soft pink stripes of dawn crest the mountain, highlighting the majestic pines around them. Absolutely amazing.

In such a moment, it was almost easy to believe in God. No, that was not right. She had never stopped believing. God was still there. Still painting the sky as He directed the sun over the mountain like He did every morning. Her mother used to quote the Bible at these times—“This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice in it.”

Annabelle's heart gave a flutter. In this moment, in the perfectly wonderful sunrise, her heart could rejoice at the magnificence of the Lord's creation.

It didn't mean that anything changed in their relationship, and certainly offered no proof of any affection the Lord might hold for her. But still she could enjoy the work of His hands.

She brushed off her skirts and looked for a bucket to get some water from the creek. As she stood, she realized that in that memory of her mother, the pang in her heart wasn't the crippling grief it had been all these months.

“Good morning!” Gertie's greeting made her jump. “I see you've already begun making the breakfast preparations.”

“Just the fire. I was going to start the coffee, but I realized that there's no water, so I need to go to the creek.”

Gertie held up a bucket. “No need. But we are low on wood. If your ankle is feeling up to it, you could gather some.”

“Of course.” Annabelle gave a small smile. “It doesn't appear to be troubling me overmuch.”

She started for the woodpile, grateful that Gertie had given her something to do other than remain idle. As she got closer, her ankle began to throb. She'd tough it out.

“Annabelle!”

She spied Joseph coming from the other direction and sighed. Everyone else would accept her “I'm fine,” but Joseph would probably see through it.

“Good morning.” She didn't bother trying to smile, since with him it was a wasted effort.

“What are you doing? Your foot—”

“Is feeling much better, thanks. Gertie needed more wood.”

He let out a long sigh, the kind that meant she had yet again managed to exasperate him. Well, that was fine by her, since he'd made his feelings for her clear last night. It didn't matter to her one bit what he thought of her.

“Why don't I help?”

“If you like.” She shrugged. “Aren't you supposed to be heading out to look at your father's other properties?”

“Slade was gone when I woke.”

“I'm sure he'll be back soon. Someone probably needed his help, and being Slade, he went to do it.”

He looked at her solemnly. Studying her. “You know a lot about the goings-on here.”

They had reached the woodpile, and Annabelle began picking up the wood they'd need for the fire. “This used to be like a second home to me. But anymore—”

“You don't want to get involved,” he said quietly.

She straightened, then stared hard at him. “Why would I? Leadville might be a fast-growing city sure to rival Denver, but it is still a dangerous place. People get sick, people die, outlaws come, or they tire of trying to strike it rich and head home. Or worse, they do strike it rich. But you know what they do then? They leave. Even the Tabors, with their magnificent opera house, do you think they spend their days in this place? No. They have their mansion in Denver, just like everyone else.”

The back of her throat had a slight tickle, like everything she'd been going through wasn't enough.

“You want my honesty, Joseph? Here's honest. You've offered me friendship. But where will that leave me? If you find your father's silver, you will head home to your family. One more person I care about gone. Trust me, remaining unattached is the only way I can survive. I've lost too much.”

She turned to head back to the camp, her ankle giving slightly as she stepped on it. Well, she'd endure it. Just as she'd endure Joseph's silence every painful step of the way home.

Because in the end, he knew she was right. Her father was worried she might form a romantic attachment to the man, but given that she could barely afford for her heart to like him as a friend, falling in love was simply not an option.

Clearly, Joseph knew it, too.

Annabelle paused near a darkened tent and even darker fire to rest for a moment.

“Excuse me.” A woman poked her head out of the tent. “Could you spare some wood?”

Her throbbing ankle screamed no, but the wail of a baby from inside the tent made her heart insist.

“Of course.” She made one trip, she could do another.

Annabelle set the wood in the woman's fire pit and tried to stir up some of the coals, but she could already tell there was no heat left in them.

“Why don't I bring you a coal from our fire?”

The woman rewarded her with a soft smile. “Thank you. I'm afraid I haven't gotten the hang of mining camp life.”

“It's no trouble at all. I'll return shortly.” At least without the weight of the wood in her arms, the pressure on her foot wasn't so bad.

When they were out of earshot, Joseph said, “You're a better person than you think, Annabelle Lassiter.”

“Not really. I'm just doing my duty. The woman needs help. You can't turn a blind eye to a woman needing help.”

“Many would,” Joseph said quietly.

Not a Lassiter. But this wasn't an argument she needed to have with him. Not in the interest of keeping their distance. Joseph did things to her heart that she didn't like. Made her feel things that she didn't want to feel, least of all for a man like him.

They returned to the cabin, where Gertie had already started breakfast.

“I'm sorry it took so long,” Annabelle said by way of partial apology and as an introduction to the situation with the woman she'd just met.

Polly glared at her. “You can't even get wood.”

Annabelle tried counting to ten, and she tried to hold her temper. But honestly...how much was she supposed to take? Her father would tell her to turn the other cheek, but what did that look like when someone else was constantly belittling you?

“Actually,” she said with as much calm as she could muster, “I met a woman on the way back who asked if she could have some wood. She's new here, and she had a baby crying in the tent. I gave my load to her, and I'm bringing her some hot coals to get her fire going again.”

Polly's indrawn breath wasn't nearly as satisfying as it should be. She didn't want to get in the jabs against her former friend, the way Polly was keen on doing to her. All she wanted was peace to reign again.

Annabelle's words sprang Gertie into action. “Oh, that poor dear. I wonder if that's Isaac Johanson's wife. I meant to call on her yesterday, but with everything...” She cast an apologetic look at Annabelle.

“It's all right. I'm sure you can visit with her later. But right now, I'd like to get some coals to her. It's chilly out still.”

Gertie rewarded her with a smile. “Yes, I think that's good.” She handed Annabelle a bucket with some coals in it.

“If you'll give me just a moment, I'll send you with some leftover biscuits. It isn't much, but with a jug of coffee, it'll take the edge off. You'll invite her to have breakfast with us, won't you?”

Annabelle tried to nod, but Gertie kept talking and piling things into a basket. “Give her one of these blankets. I like to keep them on hand for the new little ones.”

Gertie bustled past her and for a moment, Annabelle forgot that her world had changed so completely. It was like the old days, when Gertie and her mother had conspired together to make sure everyone had what they needed. Just last Christmas, they had come together to make sure every child in the camp had received a gift.

Annabelle's heart constricted. It had been their last major project before her mother had gotten ill. She took a deep breath and swallowed her unshed tears. Her mother would have loved this.

A sleepy-eyed Nugget came down the stairs. “Where did you go? I was lonesome without you.”

For all of Annabelle's promises to keep her heart to herself, loving this sweet child was irresistible. Her heart did another flip. Joseph's reminder of his impermanence in her life was something that she'd do well to continue remembering. When Joseph left, so would Nugget.

But when the little girl jumped into her arms, Annabelle couldn't stop herself from hugging her back. “Nonsense, silly girl. You had Caitlin to keep you company.”

“But she's not you.” Nugget sighed into her hair.

Annabelle swallowed. Someday this would be easier.

“Well,” Annabelle said as she released Nugget, “you'd best get washed up because Gertie is getting breakfast ready. I have an errand to run, but then I'll be back.”

Gertie handed her the wrapped biscuits. “Don't take no for an answer, because I won't hear of it.”

“Yes, Gertie.” Annabelle pretended not to notice Polly's scowl as she headed back to the woman's tent.

Joseph grabbed the basket out of her hands. “I'll take that. Your limp is getting worse, and you don't need to aggravate it by carrying such a load.”

“Annabelle?” Gertie stopped and looked at her. “I thought you said your foot was better.”

The snort from Polly was enough to make her ignore the throbbing in her foot. “It is. Just a twinge now and again. Nothing to keep me from giving a warm welcome to a woman who needs it.”

She didn't care if her smile was fake or not. For the first time since her mother had died, she had a purpose, and the hurt wasn't as great. Even the pain in her foot was tolerable.

“I'll look after her,” Joseph said. Which seemed to seal the deal as Gertie nodded, and Polly's scowl deepened.

Once they were out of earshot of the cabin, Joseph spoke. “You need to go easy on Polly.”

Annabelle stopped and stared at him. “Me? I don't understand.”

The way he pressed his lips together told her that she obviously had missed something. Probably that whole forgiving seventy times seven thing.

“I overheard her at the river fighting with some guy named Tom. Apparently, she heard him mentioning to some of the other guys that you looked quite the picture the other day in town. She thinks you encouraged his attentions and are trying to steal him from her.”

“Why, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.” Surely Polly knew her well enough to know that she would never do such a thing. “Polly knows that I would never be interested in one of her beaus.”

Then again, Polly had once thought that Annabelle would never think her a liar. So much had changed with a few careless words.

“I know,” Joseph said quietly. “But Polly believes otherwise, and that's probably the source of her attitude.”

The sincere look in his eyes made it hard to remember all the things she needed to focus on. Like the fact that he was the last person on earth who could be a friend to her.

“I'll talk to her.” One more hard thing to do, but it seemed like everything in her life was a hard thing. Because she couldn't bring herself to continue the conversation with Joseph into the next logical step, which would be to let him know that they had to do something about Nugget's continuing attachment.

Yet it seemed like the more she tried pulling away from Joseph and his family, the closer they all seemed to get.