Steadfast Heart (24 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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He looked to the picture but felt strangely numb. For so long he had feared the worst for her, never once imagining that she had ventured into the theatre. He tried to clear his thoughts. There had to be something he could do. Surely he could change her mind. Perhaps he could offer to release part of her inheritance early if she willingly came home. Maybe he could have her marriage annulled.

“Kolbein, what are you thinking? You seem so far away.”

He blinked twice. “I have to get her away from this. I have to figure out how to save her.”

“She doesn't exactly look like she needs saving.” Lenore clasped his fingers in her gloved hand. “Darling, your sister has made her own choice. Will you take away her happiness?”

“What if she isn't happy?” That thought troubled him more than he could say. “What if this is all just something forced upon her because there was no other choice? She might have married only to keep from starving to death.”

“As you said before, she most likely married the young man she'd fallen for back in Chicago. It sounds to me like your sister is as inclined toward love at first sight as you are.”

Kolbein felt a sense of defeat. He knew Lenore was probably right. His sister had never been one to be backed into a corner. Her act of running away had proved that much. He forced his mind to calm.

He gazed back at the poster. “What should I do?”

“Why don't we attend the performance tomorrow night?”

“And do what?”

“Enjoy ourselves,” Lenore said in her light and lyrical way. “We'll attend and enjoy the play, and then perhaps we can see your sister after it's over.”

“Will they let us backstage without a scene?”

“If you offer money to the man guarding the way, he'll most likely give in. My father says there's little that money can't buy. I know that you probably haven't experienced as much, but—”

“Lenore, I'm not poor.” He blurted out the truth before considering if it would offend her. She looked at him oddly, but Kolbein knew that since he'd opened this door, he would have to push them both through it.

“My sister and I received a large inheritance when our parents died. I put Greta's portion into a trust and mine into investments. I did very well and would venture to say that I probably have more than your father can claim.”

Her mouth dropped, and for a moment she said nothing. Finally she shook her head. He didn't know if she would be angry or hurt, but when she began giggling, Kolbein was completely confused.

“Why are you laughing?”

Lenore looked at him with delight. “Father will be beside himself with joy, and Mother will no longer worry about me ending up in the streets selling violets.”

He grinned. “Were they worried about that?”

“I think they feared I'd gone quite mad wanting to marry a poor lawyer. Goodness, Kolbein, but you might have told me sooner.”

“I guess I liked knowing that you loved me for me and not my money.” He shrugged. “I'm sorry if I hurt you.”

“Not at all,” she replied. “Just remember, I will always love you whether you have plenty or nothing at all. You are my heart, and I cannot imagine life without you.”

He'd never known such a burning love for anyone in his life. Pulling her close, Kolbein smelled the scent of her hair as he turned her toward the carriage once again. “You won't have to,” he breathed in a whisper. “I will always belong to you and you alone.”

“Oh, Abrianna, you look so pretty,” Lenore declared. “I'm so glad you agreed to accompany us to the theatre. I think this will be a very hard time for Kolbein, and I know he can use our support.”

Abrianna turned to inspect her gown in the cheval mirror. “I never thought I would like to wear pink with my red hair, but it's really quite pleasant.”

“Your hair is a dark red, and that makes a big difference. It isn't that orange color that some redheads bear. Although that can also be lovely,” Lenore said, reaching for a pair of gloves with delicate pink embroidery. “These are the gloves that go with your dress. I'm glad I remembered to bring them.”

Abrianna turned once more to watch the gown swirl into place. The bustled back flowed in layers of lace and silk, much like a waterfall. The bodice, although cut low, had been reinforced to the neck with a beautiful cream-colored tulle that hid any hint of immodesty.

“I'm sure I've never worn anything more beautiful.”

“I hope you'll wear it again for my wedding,” Lenore said. “I want you to be my maid of honor.”

Tears came to Abrianna's eyes, and she could only nod. Imagining Lenore married had once given her cause for sorrow, but now Abrianna couldn't help but see the happiness in her friend's face as she talked of the future.

“I will very happily stand with you. I can only imagine how beautiful you'll be. Oh, Lenore, I know I said some things in the past about how our friendship will change. Perhaps the change won't be so bad. After all, we all must change in one form or another.”

“It won't be bad, I promise,” Lenore replied. “Now, come along. We need to hurry. Kolbein is probably already here and waiting.”

Abrianna took up the fan and small purse Lenore had suggested she bring. “I feel almost like a prize pig going off to market,” she said with a laugh. “However, I must say it's rather fun to play the princess for a night.”

“Of course it is,” Lenore said. “I've tried to tell you that for many years.”

“Though there won't be any Prince Charming awaiting me, it's still a very interesting way to spend an evening.”

They started to head downstairs, but Lenore stopped on the top step. “I'll be right back. I was so worried about you having your gloves that I forgot mine,” Lenore said as a knock sounded on the door. “Oh, that will probably be Kolbein now. Please let him know I'll be right back.”

Abrianna smiled at her friend's excitement. Apparently love's happiness was contagious, for Abrianna felt she could very nearly fly. She opened the door with a confident greeting on her lips.

“Lenore said to tell you—”

Wade stared back at her with an open mouth and eyes so wide, Abrianna feared there might well be something wrong. “Wade, are you all right? What is it? Has something happened?”

He shook his head. “I . . . uh . . . you surprised me. That's all.” He continued to look at her with an expression Abrianna had never seen. “I guess you're going out this evening.”

“Yes. Lenore and Kolbein have asked me to accompany them to the theatre. Kolbein believes his sister is performing there, and we are acting as his support should things go wrong.”

“Go . . . uh . . . wrong?” Wade shook his head again. “What do you mean?”

“He plans to see his sister after the play. Kolbein is afraid she will refuse to see him for fear that he will interfere in her choice of career, which, of course, he has no intention of doing. Well, at first he did. You know how terribly judgmental some people can be about theatre folk. I've never understood it myself. People are just people, and acting on the stage needn't be a terrible thing. I realize there are sometimes problems when women dress too scantily or as men, but honestly, I think it's wonderful when a person finds their calling.”

Wade still looked at her as though she'd just slapped him. “Honestly, Wade, are you ill? You don't look so good. Is your stomach upset? I'm sure Aunt Miriam might have something to calm it. She's in the kitchen. Come along and we'll ask her.” She reached out for Wade's arm, but he refused to budge.

“I'm not sick. I'm . . . I'm just surprised. I never figured to see you all dressed up like this.”

Abrianna laughed. “It's my night to be a princess. Lenore insisted, although not in the same determined way she once
did. She was quite reasonable and assured me that if I honestly couldn't abide the formal clothes, I could dress more simply.”

“You look really nice, Abrianna. I guess I'd never realized just how nice you could look in the right dress.” He shook his head. “I didn't mean that to sound like you don't look nice other times. I've told you before that you are quite an attractive young woman.”

Abrianna smiled and shrugged. “Tonight, I could almost believe you.”

22

K
olbein sat in the darkened theatre, all but holding his breath. When an amber-colored glow lit the stage and the curtain went up, he found himself leaning forward in his seat. Lenore patted his arm, but he couldn't help himself. He had worried so long about Greta, had feared the worst.

The play began and right away Greta made her appearance on stage to loud applause. She waited until the clapping died down, then turned to the woman who played her mother and began her part.

She was beautiful. Her long brown hair had been carefully arranged to flow around her shoulders and down her back. She was playing the part of an eighteen-year-old of means, and she did it well. Kolbein marveled at her acting ability. Where had this come from? Had she always been so capable of making believe she was someone else?

Gone was the child Kolbein believed her to be. She walked around the stage, toying with a bouquet of flowers and then with a stack of letters. Apparently in the envelopes were numerous proposals for her character's hand in marriage.

“Oh, Mama,” she said, holding the letters close to her heart.
“Whatever shall I do now? There are no less than ten suitors who would have me wed to them, but none of the proposals are from my dear Albert.”

Kolbein eased back in the seat and continued to study his sister. She seemed no worse for the time and distance that had separated them. Of course it was impossible to tell from his seat, and no doubt she was wearing heavy theatre makeup, but Kolbein assessed that she looked very well. Certainly better than he had imagined.

He found it impossible to keep his mind on the story of the play but instead watched each scene for Greta's appearance and lines. She delivered her memorized words with great passion, and Kolbein could see why the local papers had suggested her as the next Sarah Bernhardt. Throughout the various acts of the play, Kolbein felt a growing sense of peace. Greta seemed very happy, completely at ease in her role on stage. He couldn't help but wonder if she was content with her role offstage, as well.

Before he knew it, the lights came up and the play was concluded. The audience cheered and demanded that Greta and her fellow actors take several bows. She was presented with a bouquet of roses and smiled her appreciation, giving a delicate curtsy toward the crowd.

“She performs so well,” Lenore declared.

“I was completely taken in,” Abrianna replied. “She had me believing that she really was besotted with the penniless Albert. I was so glad that he turned out to be the long-lost son of the oil baron, and I have to say the actor who played Albert was quite dashing.”

“That's her husband,” Kolbein murmured. He'd noted from the play's program that the part of Albert was played by Simon Longmont.

“Truly?” Abrianna asked. Then, without waiting for a reply, as was her usual manner, she began going on and on about his acting abilities and handsome qualities.

Kolbein ignored her ramblings and looked at Lenore. He said nothing, but she seemed to understand. Putting her hand on Abrianna's gloved arm, she smiled.

“Perhaps we should make our way backstage,” she suggested.

Abrianna nodded. “I think we should. In fact, I know I would love nothing more. Goodness, I had no idea I would enjoy this evening so much.”

Kolbein took hold of each lady's arm. “I'll see what I can do to get us through this crowd.” He maneuvered the ladies with great caution through the exiting mass. Going against the flow of people, Kolbein felt a growing urgency to see and speak with Greta. He had to know that she was well and that she was happy. He would never have chosen this life for her, but if she chose it for herself, he would, as Lenore had begged him to do, accept it.

When they approached the stage, a large man in a brown suit held out his arms to stop them. “No one's allowed backstage.”

“But Mrs. Longmont is my sister, Greta.” Kolbein reached into his vest pocket. “I have waited all evening to see her.” He smiled and extended a five-dollar bill. “Perhaps this will allow us a moment to visit.”

The man refused the money and shook his head. “We don't allow visitors, and as far as I know, Mrs. Longmont has no family other than her husband.”

Kolbein grimaced at this. Greta had kept his existence a secret from her troupe. Perhaps out of shame. Or maybe in a desire to forget him. Either way, the truth of this cut Kolbein to the quick.

“Are you sure that we couldn't go back to see her for just a
moment?” Lenore asked. “It really needn't take much time. I'm sure Greta . . . Mrs. Longmont would want to see her brother.”

The man shook his head again. “I can't allow anyone backstage. I'll lose my position if I do.”

Abrianna reached out to take hold of Lenore. “We can't have the man losing his job. Come on. I have a dear friend to whom I wish to say good-night.”

She pulled on Lenore's arm and forced her to follow. Kolbein had no choice but to accompany them. As much as he wanted to see Greta, he couldn't leave his intended and her friend to suffer the crowds alone.

“What friend are you talking about?” Lenore asked.

“When we came in, I saw one of my orphan boys. This must be the theatre where they got jobs cleaning up. I'm thinking if we make our way to the workers' entrance, the boys will allow us entry.”

Kolbein took hold of Abrianna and forced her to stop. “Do you really think they might? I don't want you ladies exposed to the riffraff of the alleys unless you are absolutely certain.” He let go his hold, embarrassed at his impulsiveness. “Maybe you should stay here and let me go alone. The boys would surely recognize me after being with you and giving them money.”

“Goodness, you worry too much.” Abrianna elbowed him with a smile. “You really need to stop fretting and trust that God has brought us to this place for this time.” She paused before continuing, “But I suppose there might be another guard on the back door.”

“It's a chance we must take,” Lenore said, looking at Kolbein. “It's worth the risk, and besides, Abrianna knows most every alley dweller in town.” She touched her friend's arm. “I once thought her quite mad, but she helped me see that they, too, can be quite decent folk.”

“I suppose if there's no other choice . . .” His words trailed off as Kolbein considered this madness.
I could insist
on going alone, but then I would have to leave
the ladies by themselves, and that would never do. Not
that Abrianna would stay in one place even if ordered
.
He glanced at the theatre.
If I take time to
return them to their homes, Greta might well be gone
by the time I get back to the theatre.
It was a most perplexing quandary. However, he didn't have to resolve it.

Lenore pulled at his sleeve. “Abrianna is leaving us.” She motioned in the direction Abrianna had gone.

“That girl has no more sense than a cat,” he said, taking hold of Lenore and following.

Outside, the carriages were quick to load up the theatregoers and whisk them away. Some of the homeless beggars had come to seek help from the patrons, and they quickly crowded round as the trio made their way to the alley.

“Hey, Miss Abrianna, is that really you?” one old man asked. He ran his hand down a scruffy beard. “Why, you're as pretty as a morning sunrise.”

“Thank you, Shem. I see you managed to get the doctor to fix your leg.” She looked back to Lenore. “Or should I have said
limb
?”

Lenore smiled and shook her head, but Kolbein marveled at Abrianna's lack of fear. She seemed perfectly at home among the street folk. It didn't matter to her that she was wearing a gown that cost enough to feed all of these people for a month. She simply loved them and moved among them as Kolbein imagined Jesus must have done with the beggars in His day.

“Now, you come to the back of the school tomorrow morning at exactly six forty-five,” she told the old man. “I'll have some food you can distribute. Bring your little wagon.”

“Don't got it no more, Miss Abrianna. Had to sell it,” the man said apologetically.

“Not for liquor, I hope.”

“No, ma'am. You had my promise not to drink again, and I'm holding firm to it. You've been too much of an angel to go back on my word. Nobody ever cared about me like you do 'cept for my mama.”

Abrianna touched the old man's filthy coat sleeve. “And I'm sure she loved you dearly. Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to see someone in the theatre. Don't forget about tomorrow.”

“I sure won't, Miss Abrianna. You have a good time with your friends.” With that the old man scurried off to beg money from one of the well-dressed gentlemen.

Kolbein shook his head in amazement. He'd never met a woman like Abrianna. She was so rough at the edges yet so compassionate and kindhearted. As the man suggested, perhaps she was more angel than human.

Holding fast to Lenore, Kolbein followed quickly after Abrianna, who, despite the muddy alleyway, picked her way through without difficulty. Again, she approached the people gathered around the back stage door as if they were long-lost friends. He marveled at her ease with the actors who were smoking in the alley. She congratulated them on a wonderful performance and then explained her search for Toby.

“One of those cleanup boys is just inside,” a tall, lean man told her. “Go ahead and see for yourself.”

“Thank you so much,” Abrianna said, beaming him a smile. At the back of the theatre she peeked inside the open door.

“Toby? Toby, are you in here?”

She stepped inside and Kolbein and Lenore followed her. The area was a madhouse of performers and stage crew, and the
noise seemed to increase by the minute. As Abrianna led them through the onslaught, Kolbein thought it a most fascinating maze. The air smelled of cigarette smoke and body odor, but no one seemed to notice or mind.

“Toby!” Abrianna exclaimed, reaching out to hug the boy.

Kolbein saw the young man at nearly the same moment. He breathed a sigh of relief. He stood back for a moment while Abrianna conversed with him. No doubt she would have a better chance of gaining entrance than he would. Finally she motioned Kolbein and Lenore to join her.

“Toby will take us to your sister,” she said. “Now, give him the five dollars that the big man wouldn't take.”

Kolbein considered the demand for only a moment before reaching back into his pocket for the bill. “Thank you, Toby. I am most anxious to see my sister.”

“Everybody wants to see her,” Toby admitted. “She's got all sorts of folks trying to talk to her, but she don't talk to nobody. I reckon, though, she'll want to see her own brother, so I don't think anybody will get mad at me.”

He led them through the back of the theatre, past the changing rooms, where most of the performers were in various stages of undress. They were laughing and chatting, as though being half clothed in the company of others was the most normal thing in the world. Toby looked over his shoulder, making certain he hadn't lost Abrianna, then paused at a door near the end of the hall.

“This is Mrs. Longmont's dressing room. She has a lady who helps her dress and fix her hair. Her name is Mabel, and she's always real nice to me.” He knocked on the door, adding, “Sometimes she gives me her extra food.”

“What a wonderful woman,” Abrianna said. She stepped back so that Kolbein could move closer to the door.

Kolbein swallowed back his fear that he'd already missed seeing Greta. What would he do if he had? Try again tomorrow night? Send her a letter? Lenore gave his arm a squeeze as if she completely understood his fears. He placed his hand atop hers, only then realizing that he was trembling.

“Yes?” a middle-aged woman with coal-black hair said, answering the door. “Oh, Toby, what's this about?”

“Mr. Booth here is Mrs. Longmont's brother. He wants to see her.”

“Ain't no one allowed to see Mrs. Longmont,” she said, looking at Kolbein and the ladies as though she didn't believe their story.

“But you have to let him, Mabel. See, his sister left, and he thought she was dead. We been looking for her out on the streets for weeks now. Mr. Booth just wants to make sure she's doing all right. He won't stay long, and he don't mean her any harm.”

Mabel looked skeptical. “Well, I don't know. I suppose I could ask. You wait here.”

Kolbein didn't want to wait, but the woman was already closing the door. He could only pray that there wasn't another exit to the room. If Greta didn't want to see him, he knew she'd do most anything to escape.

However, it was only a moment before the door opened again and a robe-clad Greta stood in the entrance. “Kolbein! I can't believe you're here.” She threw herself into his arms and hugged him. “Oh, please don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to worry you.”

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