Steadfast Heart (16 page)

“Abrianna, I appreciate your outrage at such pricing, but what were you saying about the Fulchers coming home?”

“Oh, I don't know, as far as Lenore's letters go. However, I heard the men downstairs saying that Mr. Fulcher had been in touch and planned to be back in the office tomorrow.”

Kolbein relaxed. “I know you are good friends with Lenore,” he began. “I . . . well . . . I wonder if you might tell me more about her.”

Abrianna proved herself more than willing. “Lenore is a wonderful woman. She has been a good friend to me for ever so long.” Abrianna leaned in, and Kolbein did likewise. When they were nearly nose to nose, Abrianna spoke again. “Lenore is always trying to make me into a proper lady. She has a way about her and knows how such things should be. My aunts do, as well, but they don't know about the latest fashions and entertainments like Lenore does. Frankly, I wouldn't know a thing about ladies tattooing their legs. . . .” She paused and giggled. “I'm sorry . . . limbs. That's another particular frustration Lenore has with me. I tend to forget the proper names for things, but she always remembers.”

Kolbein leaned his head back and roared with laughter, which lifted his spirits considerably. Abrianna giggled and crooked her finger at him. Again they put their heads together in a most conspiratorial fashion.

“Apparently it was all the rage last year, along with blue stationery with gold monogramming. If you were any kind of lady at all, you had to have the stationery.”

“But not the tattoo?” Kolbein asked, thoroughly amused with her.

“Apparently not. And an uproar was caused by it. Some thought it a sin, as the Bible speaks to not marking your body in such a way. Others said it was dangerous, and there were even those who suggested it was the mark of the beast spoken of in Revelation. Although I don't recall that the mark would be tattooed on legs . . . uh, limbs. For myself, I don't like tattoos. There's something about them that causes me discomfort, but I haven't quite yet figured out exactly why.”

If she were to see how the tattoo was applied, she'd know even more about discomfort. He smiled but offered her no insight. “Lenore kept you apprised?”

“Indeed. She always does. She's like that. She cares about people, too. I'm not the only one to benefit from her—”

“I'm in love with her,” Kolbein interrupted in a whisper.

Abrianna looked confused and leaned even closer. “What did you say?”

“I said that I'm in love with Lenore.”

L
enore felt almost sick at the sight of her best friend and Kolbein with their heads together. They had apparently become quite comfortable with each other in her absence. Perhaps too comfortable. Why, they seemed almost . . . intimate. What if Abrianna had betrayed her? Seeing Militine coming down the hall as Lenore stepped away from the kitchen, she motioned to her.

“Would you go into the kitchen and ask Abrianna to come to the sitting room? Don't tell her that I'm here. I want to surprise her.”

Militine grinned. “I know she'll be thrilled. She's done nothing but talk about your return. She heard from the men downstairs that it was to be soon.”

“We just made it back. Father is downstairs checking on business, and I begged him for a moment to tell her that we're back. I'm afraid I was rather impatient.” She smiled. “Now remember, do not tell Abrianna that I'm the one who wants to see her.”

Militine hurried toward the kitchen while Lenore took a seat in the sitting room. She wondered if Abrianna had spent so much time with Kolbein that she'd lost her heart to him as
Lenore had. Whatever was she to do if that were the case? She loved Kolbein and couldn't bear the thought of losing him. Of course, Abrianna was her best friend, and she didn't wish to lose her, either. How was she to choose? Why did life seem a constant stream of difficult decisions?

The door opened and Abrianna poked her head in. At the sight of Lenore she gave a little squeal and rushed across the room. She didn't even give Lenore a chance to stand but bent to embrace her heartily.

“I thought you might never return. I have missed you so much. So many things have been happening. Oh, you have no idea. There has been one intrigue after another. I can't wait to fill you in on all the details. Things have definitely been changing around here.”

“So I noticed,” Lenore replied, rather coolly.

Abrianna straightened. “Well, wait until you hear what's going on with the building. Aunt Miriam is actually thinking about selling. Now that we've had a total of three murders in the neighborhood, she's inclined to think this area unsafe. She has even taken to insisting I remain inside.” Abrianna paused and clasped her hands together. “My, but you are a blessed sight to behold. I feared you might not come home after enjoying the big city life of San Francisco.”

Lenore knew she had to speak her mind. “I saw you with Kolbein.”

Joining her on the settee, Abrianna turned with a shrug. “When?”

“Just now, in the kitchen.”

“Oh, why didn't you declare yourself? We would have both welcomed you with open arms.”

“You two looked awfully chummy,” Lenore said, trying not
to cry. She didn't want to think badly of Abrianna, but the thought of losing Kolbein was almost more than she could bear. She knew it would be best to just speak her mind. “Are you in love with him?”

Abrianna's eyes widened and her face flushed. Lenore feared the worst, but when her friend began laughing, she wasn't at all sure what to think. It seemed the more Abrianna tried to sober and speak, the more hysterically she laughed.

Struggling to catch her breath, Abrianna waved her hand at Lenore and shook her head. “No!” she gasped. “No!” It seemed to be the only word she could get out for several minutes.

Lenore waited for her friend to calm but used the time to share her concern. “I can't bear the thought that you might have fallen in love with him while I was away. Grief would flood my soul if I thought I'd lost all chance of winning his love.”

Abrianna finally settled down. “Oh, you are a goose.” She panted for air. “I'm not in love with Kolbein. I was just telling him about you and . . . well . . .” She looked away and stopped talking—something most unusual where Abrianna was concerned. Her hesitancy caused Lenore to put her hand to her heart.

“But he doesn't care for me?” she asked, braving the question.

“Not at all,” Abrianna declared. “I mean, he doesn't . . . he
does
care for you.” She got to her feet and looked down at Lenore in frustration. “I can't bear for you to think these things of me. I would never interfere where true love is concerned. I know that you care about him, and I wouldn't betray you.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, Abrianna. It's just that we've been gone for so long, and I couldn't bear it when I saw the two of you together. I suppose I was so jealous that I lost sight of our friendship. Please forgive me. Father has given me a deadline of one month
to get Kolbein to ask him for our courtship. Or he'll make me marry James Rybus.”

Abrianna smiled. “I do forgive you and hope you will forgive me for giving you any pain. I enjoy Kolbein's company, but like a brother. Like Wade. He's informative and pleasant to converse with, but otherwise my affection is purely that of a friend. Frankly, the biggest interest I've had has been in finding his sister. You know how I love a good intrigue. Mercy, but I've been all over asking about her.”

Abrianna looked toward the still open door, as if fearful someone would overhear. Lowering her voice, she added, “I'm forbidden to leave on my own, but . . . well, it seems that finding Greta Booth is a higher calling. I know my aunts don't see it that way, but I do. Not only that, but I know how to take care of myself, and I have good friends out there. They would quickly come to my rescue.”

As she chattered on about her mission to find Greta, Lenore lost patience and interrupted. “Abrianna! Please stop!” Lenore jumped to her feet.

Her friend's eyes widened and then a look of understanding crossed her expression. “I'm sorry, Lenore. You know how my thoughts tend to go rushing out like water over rocks. I didn't mean to babble. I have been trying hard not to go on and on about things, but it seems that I am a hopeless cause. Perhaps it's a curse, or maybe it's just the way God made me, but I know it's an irritation—”

Lenore put her finger to Abrianna's lips. “You're doing it again.” She smiled. “Please understand. I don't usually mind, but right now I'm all done up in knots. I'm in love, Abrianna, and I need to know how Kolbein feels about me.”

“Then why not ask me?” Kolbein asked from the doorway.

Lenore turned around to find him grinning at her like a ninny. She covered her mouth in horror and silently wished the floor might swallow her whole. Her mother would be absolutely mortified to know her daughter had made such an intimate declaration. And mortified didn't begin to cover all the emotions flooding through Lenore at the moment.

Kolbein stepped into the room and smiled at Abrianna. “You told me I could have hope of her affection. I just never knew she would be so forward about it.”

This only served to deepen her embarrassment. Lenore lowered her head, wondering what she could possibly say that wouldn't worsen the situation. To her surprise, however, Kolbein came to where she stood and raised her heated face.

His blue eyes twinkled. “I had just told Abrianna the same thing. I'm in love with you, Lenore. I have been since I first set eyes on you. I thought it impossible to love someone so deeply at first glance, but you clearly affected me in a way I'd never known before.”

Lenore felt her heart pounding and was certain that Kolbein and Abrianna could hear the drumming. Her mouth felt dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. His declaration was more than she had hoped for, yet now that the words were spoken, Lenore felt all reasonable thought flee her mind.

Kolbein seemed to understand. He took hold of her hands and led her back to the settee. “It would seem we have much to discuss.”

Just then, Lenore remembered her father downstairs. “I can't stay. My father only agreed to let me come here if I kept my visit brief. Why don't you come for dinner tomorrow evening? I'll let Mother know, and she'll be happy to plan something special.”

“Special enough that I might ask your father for permission
to court you?” Kolbein asked. He grinned and added, “I would ask him for your hand, but I'm sure he would never approve, since we don't really know each other all that well.”

Lenore shook her head. “I feel like I've always known you. Like I've just been waiting for you all this time. Since I was a little girl, I knew that I would one day find someone special.” She got to her feet and Kolbein did likewise. “I have to go, but you will come tomorrow evening, won't you?”

“Of course. What time?”

“Come at six. That way you will have time to get to know my parents. Mother loves to have a time of visiting before the evening meal.”

“Six it is,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips.

His gaze never left her as he kissed her hand. The look on his face nearly caused Lenore to swoon. She pulled back her hand quickly and hurried for the door. Only then did she remember Abrianna. Lenore glanced back but saw that except for Kolbein, the room was empty. Apparently Abrianna had slipped away sometime during their declaration of love.

Fixing her gaze on Kolbein, Lenore drew a deep breath. “Until tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Until then.”

Abrianna could hear the clatter of heels on the wooden floor as Aunt Poisie led the girls in practice for the bridal ball that would be held in June—only about a month away. Only a few of the ladies knew how to dance when they'd arrived at the school, but now they were all becoming quite proficient. With exception to Militine, who seemed unable to learn the steps. Aunt Poisie constantly chided her that she would never get a husband until
she could waltz properly. Aunt Selma in turn said that a woman wouldn't find a proper mate unless she could sew a straight line, and Aunt Miriam said it had to do with keeping an organized kitchen. Abrianna could see reason in sewing and kitchen work, but still had no idea why dancing was so important to marriage, and no one seemed inclined to explain it to her.

Abrianna shook the thought from her mind. She hadn't come here to think about dancing. Her encounter with Lenore and Kolbein had given her a great deal to consider. She felt a sense of emptiness that only came upon her when she allowed herself to dwell on the past. Moving from the window to the mirror, Abrianna allowed her thoughts to resurface.

She touched her red curls and once again thought of her mother. Aunt Miriam said that her mother had curly hair, but it wasn't red. The ladies had never known her father, but suspected he was the one who had contributed the color to Abrianna's curls.

Aunt Miriam had also told Abrianna that she bore a slight resemblance to her mother. Touching her cheek, thoughts poured through her mind. Had her mother ever touched Abrianna's cheek? Had she combed through the tangled hair?

“How is it that I can miss someone I've never known?” she asked. The longing went deep, and Abrianna could not ignore the pull of emotions that were associated with such memories. Or lack thereof.

I wish
I could remember you
. She gripped the back of the chair and stared hard into the mirror, as if it might allow her to somehow see the past.
I wish
I could talk to you right now. If I could,
I would tell you how much I miss knowing you,
how I long to hear you speak.

I can't
remember anything about you.

That realization always hurt the most. It was one thing to have lost her mother but entirely another to have no memory of her whatsoever. There wasn't even so much as a single thought that Abrianna could associate with the past.

“If I just had a picture,” she murmured. But of course there had been no money for such things. Her folks had been desperately poor. Aunt Miriam said that Abrianna's mother had related the sad facts of her life to the ladies one day after church. She told of her husband leaving to find better work and then the presumption that he had died. Abrianna had no memory of him, either.

Her mother had never been a strong person, Aunt Miriam had shared. This had come from the woman herself as she explained to the ladies that she was dying and desperate for them to take her young child to raise.