Steadfast Heart (5 page)

“Virginia?” Abrianna asked. “But I thought you were from Chicago.”

“We moved there at a later date.”

“On purpose?” Abrianna questioned, as though he'd lost his senses.

They crossed the street and Kolbein noted a dress in the window of a clothing store. “That gown . . .” He walked to the window, unconcerned with his companions. “I'm certain that my sister had a gown such as this.”

“Maybe we should check within,” Lenore suggested. “The proprietor might remember seeing her.”

The idea was more than reasonable, and Kolbein opened the door of the shop and ushered his companions inside. The shop seemed dim, despite electrical lighting. A man at the end of the counter stood examining several pairs of gloves as the trio approached.

“I wonder if I might inquire about the gown in the window,” Kolbein began.

“Looking to buy it for one of these young ladies?” the man asked. He looked from Abrianna to Lenore and back again. “I think it might fit this one, but not that one.” He looked at Lenore and smiled. “The coloring would be good for you, too, miss. However, you're just a tiny mite and would probably need the gown hemmed considerably.”

“I'm not looking to buy the gown, but I need to know where it came from. The young lady who sold it to you is my sister, and I'm desperately trying to find her.”

The man frowned. “You're not buying, eh?”

Kolbein had seen that look a million times before. “I might be inclined to buy it back for her, if I knew where I could find her.”

The man shook his head. “Don't know where she is. She showed up here one day with a young gentleman. They offered the dress and a pair of matching slippers, and I bought them. It's a quality gown, and I gave her more than I would on the normal trade.”

“That was gracious of you,” Kolbein said, feeling a great sense of frustration. “But you have no knowledge of where she went after she left your store?”

“'Fraid not. I have plenty to keep me busy without worrying about where my clients go after they sell me their wares.”

“It's truly important,” Lenore offered. “The young lady may be in trouble.”

“Wish I could help you,” the shopkeeper replied. “But I honestly don't know anything more than I've told you.”

Kolbein narrowed his eyes. “Even if I buy the gown back?”

“Even if you buy twenty gowns in this store. I don't know anything about the girl. She was here one moment and gone the next. I'm sorry, mister.”

With a heavy sigh, Kolbein nodded. “I understand.” He paid
for the gown and slippers. The man wrapped them in paper while Kolbein tried to figure out what to do next.

The proprietor thanked him for the purchase, but Kolbein said nothing in reply. He tucked the package under his arm and made his way outside, barely remembering to wait for Lenore and Abrianna. Greta had been there—so close and yet so far.

“I'm sorry that he couldn't tell you her whereabouts,” Lenore said, “however, if she came to this shop might it be reasonable to assume she could live nearby?”

“I suppose so,” Kolbein said, feeling more downcast than when they'd begun.

“I think that would be a correct conclusion,” Abrianna stated. “Lenore, you are brilliant. Perhaps we should talk to the hotel proprietors in the area. If that doesn't lend us some ideas, then maybe we could branch out and speak to other storekeepers. If she is residing in this area, she must surely shop at one or more of the stores.”

“You're both correct,” Kolbein said, clearing the clutter from his head. “It's worth a try. At this point, it's all we have.”

“Well, we have the Good Lord, too,” Abrianna replied, “although sometimes He keeps His thoughts to himself. I've been praying and praying on this matter and still have no clear understanding. That's not unusual, however.” She fixed him with an intense gaze. “Are you a praying man, Mr. . . . I mean, Kolbein?”

“I've never really had much time for church as an adult,” he replied, feeling most uncomfortable. His parents had always encouraged regular church attendance, but from the time of college until now Kolbein had found little time for God or prayer.

“You aren't an evolutionist, are you?” Abrianna gasped. “Aunt Selma says they're everywhere, and we must avoid them at all costs.” She looked to Lenore. “She says that even God's grace
can't cover their sins, but I tend to believe God is able to forgive most anything, don't you agree? Why would He be God Almighty if He wasn't able to be mighty over all sins?”

“I'm not an evolutionist,” Kolbein assured her. “But neither am I overly religious. I've been very busy with my law practice. I find it consumes most of my time. And given that God is also consumed by laws and such, I suppose I have something of a connection to Him.”

They turned down yet another street, and Abrianna seemed to forget all about the condition of his soul and pointed instead at a building. “That's Wade's wagon shop. Why don't we go tell him what we're doing and get his help? If he's too busy, we can speak to him on Sunday over dinner.” Abrianna turned to Kolbein. “I'm certain my aunts would approve of having you to Sunday dinner, as well, and I know the other ladies will enjoy your company. They always fuss over Wade and Thane—that's Wade's best friend—whenever they're there. Frankly, I think they're all just man crazy.”

Kolbein chuckled and shook his head. “I think you think too much.”

Lenore sat at her dressing table unable to forget the way Kolbein Booth had looked and sounded. His image filled her mind, leaving her almost breathless. She found that he captivated her in a way no other man had ever done. Could this be the start of love? Did it happen that way?

She toyed with an emerald necklace. She would have to deal with Mr. Rybus tonight, but her heart was definitely not in it. Mother seemed pleased that he would share dinner with them, but Lenore knew her mother would be less pleased once she learned the truth.

“I do not want to court James Rybus.” She discarded the necklace and walked to the window. Darkness hid the details of the Fulcher gardens, but it didn't matter. She wasn't there to see anything in particular.

“I have to convince them that this is a bad idea. That I shouldn't be forced into a relationship for which I have no interest. But how?” Somehow it seemed to help to speak her problem aloud.

Then in a flash an idea formed.
What if I tell them there's someone else?
The image of Kolbein Booth flooded her thoughts.

“Mr. Booth is a perfect solution.” She went back to the dressing table and retrieved the necklace. It didn't matter that Mr. Booth had no idea she found him so appealing. It didn't matter that it would be a stretch of the truth.

Lenore fastened the necklace. The glitter of emerald green at her throat completed her ensemble.
I'll tell
them there is someone else—that my heart has been
captivated and I wish to court another.

But what if they demanded a name? What if her father insisted on having her court James Rybus until this other suitor made himself known? Oh, it was all so complicated.

“If I have to lie, I'll lie,” Lenore whispered. Her mind whirred with thoughts of how the evening might play out. With any luck at all, she would convince them of another suitor's interest. Then the only problem would be to convince Mr. Booth.

L
enore glanced across the table to her father and then to Mr. Rybus. Her mother looked uncertain about the entire situation and for once kept her opinion to herself. Lenore wished her mother would have spoken up, but since she refused, Lenore knew she would have to speak her mind or lose any chance of courting Kolbein Booth. She pushed aside her uneaten dessert and cleared her throat.

“I realize that this is hardly a conversation we would usually have at the dinner table; however, I cannot in good faith keep Mr. Rybus guessing my answer regarding his desire to court me.” She saw that she had their devoted attention and continued. “I have given this a great deal of thought, but the fact is,” Lenore said, hesitating a moment, “I have feelings for another man.”

“Another man?” her father asked. “No one else has come to ask me to court you. Who is this other man?”

Mother gave her a startled look. “What man? You've said nothing.”

“He's a gentleman who showed up at the bridal school looking for his sister. He's a lawyer from Chicago, and . . . well . . . I would like to give my attention and affection to him.” She
looked at James Rybus and smiled. “Please don't take this as an insult to you, Mr. Rybus. I am honored that you would even consider me. I know what a great woman your wife was and how honored she was in the community because of you.”

Mr. Rybus lost his shocked expression and nodded. “Eleanor was beloved by many.”

Lenore nodded thoughtfully. “She was truly a remarkable woman. She gave a great deal of time to charities and the beautification of the city.”

“That's hardly the point,” Father interrupted. “I don't know this other man and—”

Mother put her arm on Father's hand. “Josiah, we agreed that Lenore could choose to court whomever she desired. Why not give her young man a chance?”

“Because he hasn't the decency to approach me directly.” Her father fixed her with a hard stare. “Why wouldn't an honorable young man seek me out?”

Lenore knew better than to suggest that Kolbein had not yet made any declaration of interest. Instead, she chose a safer route. “His sister is missing. She left their home and headed to Seattle and hasn't been heard from since. Mr. Booth is half sick with worry and came to the bridal school because he had reason to believe his sister would be there. She wasn't, but everyone at the school is trying to get word out to find her. I feel certain that when the situation is resolved, Mr. Booth will seek you out.” At least she hoped so.

“Well, while I sympathize, I do not believe it's fair to keep James dangling on a hook. I will give your young suitor exactly one month from today to seek a courtship. In the meanwhile, I hardly think it can hurt if you were to accompany James on a few social outings. Isn't that right, Monica?”

Mother looked to Lenore. “I would say that entirely depends on Lenore, as well as Mr. Rybus. Since he already knows her to be interested in someone else, perhaps he would rather not spend his time trying to woo our daughter.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Rybus replied, much to Lenore's disappointment. “I would be honored to escort your daughter. Perhaps if she gives me a chance, her affection might grow.” He smiled and settled his dark-eyed gaze upon Lenore. “Would it be acceptable for me to take you to the opera and perhaps a musical concert and dinner sometime?”

Lenore didn't know what to say. On one hand her mind was quite fixed on her father's one-month deadline. How could she encourage Mr. Booth to fall in love with her in such quick fashion? However, she realized that Father might have refused her altogether. She didn't want to shame him in front of his associate.

“I would be honored, Mr. Rybus. So long as you know my heart on the matter, I do not feel that I would be leading you on.”

“Thank you, Miss Fulcher. I look forward for a chance to compete for your affection.”

His study of her face left Lenore feeling a bit confused. He was a very pleasant sort of man, and while he was nearly twenty years her senior, he hardly seemed that old. Perhaps her feelings for Kolbein Booth were merely a momentary attraction. If Kolbein didn't share her affection, maybe she could reassign her affection on Mr. Rybus.

“Wonderful. If you aren't busy this Friday, I should very much like to accompany you to the opera.”

Lenore looked to her mother. To her surprise, Mother frowned. “We have plans to sail for San Francisco on Saturday next. We hadn't yet announced this to Lenore, but she will accompany us.”

Lowering her head so that Mother couldn't see her expression, Lenore felt more concern about leaving Mr. Booth than accepting an outing with Mr. Rybus. Why hadn't her parents said anything before now? They knew how much she hated their last-minute plans, especially when they involved her. She wanted to ask why it was so important that she accompany them, but already Mr. Rybus was assuring Mother that they could simply do an early dinner. This seemed to meet with the approval of her parents, and then all eyes were turned to her.

She pasted on what she hoped was a sweet smile. “Of course. I will be glad to accompany you to dinner.”

“Wonderful!” Rybus sounded like a man who had just had his fondest desire granted. “I will make reservations for us. Would six be early enough?” He looked to her father.

“I would think so. So long as you have Lenore home by eight-thirty so that she can finish directing the servants with her packing and see to anything else she needs to attend.”

Mr. Rybus nodded and Mother rose from her chair. “If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, Lenore and I have some plans to make.”

The men stood and Mr. Rybus even hurried to assist Lenore from her chair. He was a very thoughtful man and his manners were impeccable. Perhaps courtship with him wouldn't be so bad. After all, Kolbein Booth might not even care for her. And there was that pesky problem of his hailing from Chicago.

“Then Mother announced out of the clear blue that we are traveling to San Francisco on Saturday.”

“Saturday?” Abrianna didn't like the announcement at all. “However long will you be gone?”

“I haven't any idea. Father has business there and Mother
wishes me to accompany her shopping. You know how she hates to let any of the latest fashions escape her perusal.”

Abrianna frowned. “I cannot imagine being a slave to such a thing. Aunt Miriam says that idols take many forms. Have you ever thought to suggest to your mother that fashion may well be an idol?”

“I wouldn't dare,” Lenore said, shaking her head. “Mother may be shallow in her faith, but it isn't up to me to point that out.”

Abrianna considered that a moment. Perhaps Lenore was right. It might seem offensive if a daughter were to reveal her mother's sin. “So you mentioned having a task for me,” Abrianna began. “What might that be and how soon will I need to perform it?”

“I want you to endorse me to Mr. Booth.”

“In what way?” Abrianna asked in confusion. “What might this endorsement entail?”

Lenore gave a heavy sigh. “Honestly, Abrianna, for a woman of your age, you really should know more about men and women. Haven't you noticed that I have feelings for Kolbein . . . Mr. Booth?”

She couldn't have been more surprised had Lenore suggested that they attempt to walk on water. “You have feelings for him? But you just met him. Aunt Miriam always says that while love at first sight can certainly happen, it is rare and must be evaluated at every turn.” She leaned closer to Lenore. “Have you given it such evaluation?”

“I have, Abrianna. I can't help how I feel. I haven't been able to think of anything or anyone but Mr. Booth since first meeting him. I thought perhaps it was just a momentary fascination, but it's more.”

“How can that be?”

Lenore shrugged. “I don't know. I just know that I have a deep desire to know him better. I might even call it a longing.”

“A longing?” Abrianna couldn't begin to understand. “That sounds most serious.”

“It feels very serious,” Lenore admitted. “What worries me, however, is that he will find his sister while I'm gone and never know of my . . . affection. I'm so afraid that he'll return to his home and I'll never see him again.”

Abrianna looked around the sitting room for a moment. What exactly did Lenore want her to do if he found his sister and headed back to Chicago? What if his sister turned up sick or even dead? He wouldn't care at all about Lenore in that case.

Finally Abrianna looked back to her friend. “I can hardly tie him to a chair. Do you want me to tell him how you feel?”

“Certainly not!” Lenore toyed with the lace on her cuff and, though clearly vexed, did not raise her voice. “I merely want you to keep my name before him. I want you to speak in a glowing manner of my abilities and personal traits.”

“I suppose I can do that,” Abrianna replied. “Although I don't really know much about such things.”

“Goodness, Abrianna. You've grown up in a bridal school. How can you be so clueless about romance and the sharing of affections?”

Abrianna shrugged. “I suppose because I've done my level best to avoid such things. God has better things for me to do. I believe I'm to be about the business of loving all mankind rather than one man. Surely you don't fault me for that.”

“No, of course not. Although sneaking around town to take food and blankets to the homeless or to visit the old sailors on the docks seems a most unsettling pastime for a young woman.”

“I don't expect you to understand.” She shook her head. “I'm not sure that I understand . . . completely. All I know is that my parents were poor folk who could barely keep food on the table. My father left and most likely died shortly thereafter, and my mother had no choice but to seek out the help of her church. She knew that she was sick and wouldn't live long, but she had a child to care for. Such things stir in me the desire to help others. Perhaps I shall be like a Joan of Arc.”

“And lead your people to war?” Lenore asked with a giggle.

“Well, then maybe a Florence Nightingale.”

“So now you plan to become a nurse?”

Abrianna straightened. “If that's what God wills for me. However I can best help the people is what I want to do. Nevertheless, I will do what I can to see that Mr. Booth remembers you well. Daily—at least if I see him daily—I will endeavor to draw him into conversations that speak of your traits.”

Lenore giggled. “Tell him only the good things. I'm afraid the bad will speak for itself.”

“You have no bad traits.” Abrianna plopped into the closest chair. “I'm the one who has all of those.” She heaved a sigh. “I burn more things than I manage to cook. I can sew a straight line, but forget singing or playing the piano. I'm a most uncomely dancer, and my red hair is far too shocking a color to call me fashionable.”

“You can be fashionable, Abrianna. And I've seen you dance. You do quite well. Your hair would fit expectations if you were to pin it up all of the time instead of just on Sunday.”

“I only pin it up then because my aunts insist. I like having the wind in my hair. Not only that—this mess is difficult to keep pinned in place.” She leaned forward. “Sometimes I give serious consideration to cutting it short like a boy.”

“Never do that, Abrianna. My father would forbid us any further meetings if you were to do something so questionable.”

“I know that full well. It is a terrible burden to carry,” Abrianna said with yet another sigh.

Lenore sat down beside her on the settee. “Abrianna, you could do much to improve the way people see you. I believe you to be one of the kindest and most honest people I've ever met. When I look at you, I know that you are authentic through and through. There isn't even a hint of pretense in your mannerisms.”

“I know I'm supposed to give the impression of being a well-trained young lady, but the things taught here at the school rarely interest me. I love politics and causes. I fear for the Chinese in the days to come. After all, if the mobs would round them up once, they will be inclined to try again. I am troubled by the hatred people have for those who are different. I want homes and warmth for the cold and weary. I pray for food and healing for those who wander the streets of Seattle. If I had a big building like this, I wouldn't run a bridal school, I'd have a home for the friendless.”