ROMANCE: Military: SEALED BY APACHE (Military Soldier Navy SEAL Romance) (Alpha Male Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Short Stories) (10 page)

KEEPING THE FAITH FOR LOVE

A Western Historical Romance

By

Angel Atkins

Chapter One

Jenny’s hands froze despite her long thick dress and oversized blue sweater that once belonged to her mum. Her hands moved automatically, washing last night’s pot, but her eyes stared fixedly out of the kitchen window. She licked her lips to ease the discomfort in her mouth caused by the numbing cold.

As much as she hated the cold, she loved looking out the window at the falling snow, as it built small mountains on the backyard.

When summer, it was littered with trash and equipment carelessly left lying on the ground, when it snowed, their backyard transformed to a magical place, with White Plains and plateaus rising and falling.

It puzzled Jenny that God created all that, yet He never raised a finger to change their lives. Her hand flew to her mouth, as soon as she realized where her thoughts were headed.

She searched for a bible verse in her mind, as though she was actually flipping the bible. When she got the right verse, Jenny murmured it aloud.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Her mind went calm and she felt her faith restored. It was a daily battle to remember that God was with her, her guardian, her mother always used to remind her when she was afraid. Doubts plagued her and questions that she had no answers to popped up in her mind, when she least expected them.

She finished with the dishes and took a feather broom. As she swept the floor, she stopped short when she heard a loud bang from her father’s workshop, off the hallway that connected it to the rest of the house. Jenny sighed. It would be another long day. The bang was followed by more noises, as things were smashed against the wall.

In her mind’s eye, she saw the scene in the garage, having witnessed it more times than she could count. Her father would be nailing two pieces of wooden logs together, while sipping on a tin cup of ale. That finished, he stands back to admire his handiwork and the lopsided smile fades when he sees a blemish on the wood. Anger rises, his breathing comes out in short, impatient gasps, until his mouth and nose appear to swell with every second.

He lashes out, and rains blows and kicks on the work, which he had spent weeks working on. He picks up a piece and throws it against the wall. His anger spent, he picks up the jar of ale, refills his glass and collapses to the floor. He holds the glass tightly and swallows the contents in a single sip.

Jenny turned her attention to the floor, sweeping in quick hurried moves, her legs trembling slightly. Woken up by the commotion, her younger brother James staggered in, still in the clutches of sleep. He rubbed his eyes and stood looking at the front room as though it was his first time to see it. Jenny smiled and ruffled his hair. At seven years old, he still possessed an innocent outlook on life, and for that she was grateful.

He wore a pair of trousers that went up to his knees and a tattered sweater. He outgrew his clothes so quickly. Jenny had no money to buy material to sew him some clothes and her father just did not see how badly off they all were. Already the trousers clung to his legs and she could see the strain of material as it struggled to stay together. He had one other trouser, a little longer, and one he used for church.

Now even going to church was a chore. It shamed Jenny to have all those people looking at her and James with pity in their eyes. It was easier to stop going.

‘There is a kettle of tea and some pancakes on the kitchen table. Go on and pour yourself a mug.’ Jenny said.

‘May I have three pancakes?’ he said.

Jenny laughed. James had a healthy appetite; it was a shame that they never quite had enough food to satisfy his hunger. This morning though, she had cooked plenty of pancakes, from the donation of flour and sugar they had received from the members of the church.

‘Yes you may.’ Jenny answered.

Five minutes later, she heard the door flung open and heavy steps walking towards the front room.

‘Those nails are useless, half rusted. They don’t make them as they used to, I’ll tell you that. Jenny!’ he yelled.

‘Yes father?’ she said looking up, as he entered the living room.

His face appeared swollen and red, but like the rest of him stick thin. His eyes blazed indignation. He came to a stop, but his feet teetered, his balance already affected by the ale.

‘Where did you buy those nails?’ he said.

‘The General shop father; where I always do.’ Jenny answered.

She felt guilty at lying to him, but instead of buying new nails, she had walked along a building under construction and collected discarded nails. The little money he had given her for nails, she had used to buy soap and other necessities.

‘Next time, buy somewhere else. I need good nails for my work.’

Jenny almost wept with relief. There would be no shouting today. While he had never laid a finger on her, his temper was volatile, his voice loud and angry. She looked at him and felt a wave of pity for him. The image of the father she once knew had faded over the years and looking at him, it was hard to tell that he had been the same man.

She could never bring herself to blame him. Life had not been kind to the three of them. After the death of her mother, she and her father had each found solace in different places, his in alcohol and her in the church. She had clung to the knowledge that God still loved her, despite taking her mother from her while giving birth to her younger brother. She had tried to bring her father to know God, but he was like a rock, hardened by years of harsh weather. 

Her father barely listened to her, merely grunted in response, while reaching for the glass of ale. The people at church kept telling her not to give up on her father, but they had no idea who they were talking about. Now, she had given up and rarely spoke about God to him.

He sat down heavily on the chair. It’s once cream color, now faded to an unsightly brown, with stains of food and drink. When he didn’t eat in his work shop, he ate at that very chair, falling asleep before finishing, and in the morning, Jenny found the plate had fallen on his lap and the soup on the chair.

She sighed. Before her mother’s death, her father had been the best wood craftsman in the whole area. People came to him with requests to have tables and chairs, and other pieces of furniture made. Now, if he sold a table or chairs in a week it was a miracle. Surviving was becoming so difficult. As much as Jenny tried to stretch the pennies, even buying food was a problem. Just thinking about what they would eat every day was a headache for her.

Jenny sometimes felt like an old woman, tired of life and all her energy depleted. Girls her age already had their own homes and families. Her life consisted of taking care of James and her father. She had no hopes of meeting a young man. No young men courted her, as most were already engaged. Besides, her father’s reputation as a drunk was well known. No young man would want to marry into a family such as theirs.

A loud knock on the door made Jenny jump. There could only be one person coming to the house at that time of morning. She straightened her blue sweater, braced herself, and went to open the front door. Her Aunty Florence, her father’s sister, stood there frowning, her body covered by a long red thick coat. Jenny wished it was hers. It was perfect for the weather.

‘Why did you take so long to open the door? It’s very cold out there, but you wouldn’t know, spending all your time in the warmth of the house. If you had to wake up early in the morning like I do, you would know what I’m talking about. You know it’s not my responsibility to check on you children, I do it from the goodness of my heart.’ She said her lips curled in annoyance.

Jenny did not point out that she had woken up before dawn, got wood from the pile in the backyard to light the fire and cook breakfast. Her Aunty Florence liked to think that she was lazy, and Jenny had long stopped trying to convince her otherwise.

‘Sorry Aunty Florence.’ Jenny said and moved to the side to let her in.

She stepped in, made as though to remove her coat, then changed her mind. She looked at the hallway, her eyes screwed up.

‘Haven’t you cleaned up this morning?’ she said, her voice disapproving.

‘I was just sweeping up.’

‘Where’s your father? Already at work I suppose? I don’t understand how a hardworking man like your father ended up with a lazy daughter like you!’ she said, looking angered and genuinely puzzled. ‘But I suppose character traits don’t come from one person, do they?’

She went into the living room, leaving Jenny standing there. The criticism, also intended of her mother, indirectly caused a physical pain in her heart. She swallowed down the resentment that she fought to contain for her Aunty Florence. When she felt herself calm down, she followed her to the front room, dragging her feet as though they were two blocks of cement.

Chapter Two

Jenny!’ her Aunty called out from the front room.

‘I’m coming Aunty.’ She said, and carried a mug of hot tea to her aunty.

‘Sit down; we do need to talk about your future.’

Her father sat stiffly staring at somewhere ahead only he could see. Jenny sat at the edge of the only other chair remaining, completing the triangle of the three of them. When she was settled, her Aunty reached into the pocket of her red coat and fished out a folded newspaper.

‘Now, Jenny, you’re now a grown woman and your father needs as much help as he can get. He works very hard for the two of you, and now it’s time to do your bit for the family.’

Jenny saw a ghost of a smile on her father’s lips. Aunty Florence was his oldest sister. Her visits always left him a good disposition. She saw a different person from who her father was.

‘Girls your age are already married with a child or two.’ Her Aunty continued, shifting about in her chair and wringing her hands. ‘Since it does not seem as though there are any suitors…or are there?’

Color flooded to her face and she felt herself grow hot. It was one thing to know within yourself that no young man was interested in you, and quite another to have to admit it out loud. Jenny looked at her hands and shook her head. Tears of humiliation gathered in her eyes, and she kept them from falling by refusing to blink.

‘Well, thank the Lord that I am here, otherwise I don’t know what would become of you.’ Her Aunty said.

She straightened out the newspaper on her lap.

‘Now, I’ve seen a few advertisements for ladies with means across the country looking for nannies as well as housekeepers. I want you to write to the ones that I’ve circled—these are the most suitable, and offer your services.’

Jenny was horrified. The last thing she wanted was to go and live in a stranger’s house as a servant. She would never find a suitor and would live and die a spinster.

‘I think it’s the best solution for you Jenny. Once there, you must absolutely stop being lazy. They won’t pay you for day dreaming and waking up at whatever hour you choose. People the world over work hard, and so must you.’

Her Aunt’s voice faded, and Jenny found herself engulfed by sadness. Aunty Florence was right. There was nothing else for her to do but to apply for those jobs.

‘Jenny.’ Aunty Florence said sharply. ‘Are you listening to a word I’ve said? That’s the kind of behavior that will not be tolerated by the lady of the house. You’re expected to be sharp and to pay attention to instructions!’ Her Aunt looked exasperated.

‘How much can she expect to earn?’ her father said, speaking up for the first time.

‘It depends on the household. Should she be lucky, she can get as much as twenty dollars a month.’

Her father whistled. ‘You had better start on those letters then. The sooner you start working, the better for all of us.’

Jenny stood, took the newspaper and trudged to her bedroom. It was a tiny room, with just a bed and a chest of drawers. She sat heavily on her bed and looked at the newspaper.
Oh Lord, is this what I’ve been praying and waiting for?
Jenny knew that it was not the worst thing in the world to work as a servant, but her heart longed for a different life. Her own family as her mother once had. She closed her eyes and remembered the laughter that had once filled the house. Her mother had been a jolly person with a sweet and kind disposition. She had taught Jenny how to cook and clean, and to sew.

Her father too had been a different person. A quiet man, he had a hint of laughter behind his eyes. Now if he was not angry at something that only he knew, he seemed resigned to letting life carry him whichever way it chose. It was like he had no control over his life or that of his children.

A deep hurt cut through Jenny’s heart when she recalled the way his eyes had lit up when his sister talked about how much Jenny could earn. Her work now would be to work for him. Jenny had no problem earning money for James, but she knew very little of her earnings would go to James. What would become of him without her to cook for him and teach him alphabet.

She was lucky that by twelve years old when her mother went to be with the Lord, she could read and write. Would her father make the effort to teach his son the same? She doubted it. Most times, he did not even acknowledge James. He seemed to have forgotten he had a son and did not bother to teach him anything, even woodwork. In a few years, James would need a skill and so far, there seemed to be no hope for that either.

With resignation she flipped open the pages of the newspaper and moved to the adverts section. She saw two parts circled with an ink pen.

Servant wanted: housekeeper/nursemaid wanted for a small private family consisting of five children. The person selected will be expected to help in all areas of the home. She must be respectable and good with sewing. Liberal wages. Apply to the address below.

Jenny’s spirits sunk. The other circled advert was further down. Another advert caught her eye and she read it with interest. She sat up straighter and read the advert again.

Hard working, single cowboy in Montana seeks an acquaintance with a God honoring lady which will lead to matrimony. The ranch provides a good living and the chosen lady will not lack. Hard work and a kind disposition are required.

Her breath came out in gasps as she read the advert over and over again. Was it the answer to her prayers? Along with the excitement was fear. What if she went to Montana and found that the cowboy was an evil man. It would be like jumping from a hot pot to a fire. She thought of the other option, going to work in a huge household as a servant. There was no hope of her ever having a family of her own.

Her eyes went back to the advert. The cowboy wanted a God honoring woman. That meant that he too was a God loving person. The excitement in Jenny grew as she realized that her way out was right in front of her eyes. Still she was not sure, so she did what she always did when faced with difficulty. She went down on her knees and said a prayer.

Dear Father, I pray for guidance. Show me the right way to go, be my light and walk ahead of me so that I may know the right thing to do. In Jesus mighty name I pray, Amen.

When she sat back down, Jenny realized that it had been a long time since she had prayed from her heart. Her prayers were fast and automatic, and the words not given much thought. She wondered if the Lord would hear her prayers now, since she had prayed for so many years and He had kept his ears turned away from her, she thought. She listened to her heart and heard nothing. Surely the Lord had deserted her. She would have to think this through by herself.

In all her excitement Jenny had forgotten the one person who meant everything to her—James. What would become of him if she left? Immediately, Jenny knew that leaving James would not do. She would not leave him with her father; otherwise, she would never know a moment of peace. She thought of the cowboy. Very few men would agree to marry someone with a child. What would she do?

First things first. Jenny got a paper and pen and wrote the letter. She corrected it and rewrote it until it was a perfect as it could be. Then she sealed it, ready for posting.