Courting Miss Adelaide (32 page)

And so would William.

“What Ed did was wrong, bad,” Charles said, “You’ll never forget, but you can forgive him because he’s ill.” His words an echo of what Addie had tried to tell him about his own father.

William swiped at his eyes. “Why’s he sick?”

“That’s a tough one. I don’t know.” Would he ever know? Did it even matter?

“Will I…will I be sick like him?”

Charles remembered that first day at the schoolhouse, how William had taken Emma’s hand and comforted her. This very night, the boy had rescued Frances instead of running. Everyone started out in life with the capacity for good and evil. Some people, like William, served good, while others, like Ed Drummond, served evil.

“No. You’re going to be your own man. You can choose what kind of man that will be.”

As William clung to him, tears ran down Charles’s cheeks. Together they wept for two innocent boys, for William and for the boy Charles had once been. They’d both faced an enemy far bigger than them.

“You’re a good boy,” Charles crooned, cradling William in his arms. “A good boy.”

The words resonated in Charles’s head.
He
had been a good boy, no matter how much he’d heard otherwise. He and William had both done the best they could. And they both could choose a new future.

Not only must he forgive his family, Charles knew he must make things right between him and God. Because he knew without a doubt God had saved him—then and now.

Charles turned his gaze upward.

God, I’m hoping You can forgive me for my anger at You, for questioning Your will.

Forgive me for trying to kill my father, for holding on to bitterness, for not worshipping.

Help me make a fresh start. A fresh start with You.

The dark oppressive load slid from Charles’s shoulders and in its place came a long-awaited sense of peace. It filled him with surging hope, warm acceptance, calming certainty. And then, he knew without a doubt. He, Charles Graves, a man who didn’t deserve it—

God loved, truly loved him.

God had heard. God had answered. God had forgiven.

Charles awakened to someone calling his name. He groaned. His entire body throbbed, his throat burned. Then it hit him.

Last night before stumbling into the closest bed, the sagging cot at
The Ledger,
he’d battled Ed Drummond, proposed marriage to Addie and spoken with God.

No ordinary evening.

The rest struck him full force, like an uppercut to his aching jaw. Addie had turned down his proposal. Was it too late to make up for causing her nothing but pain?

And if so, what would he do without her? No other woman measured up to Addie. The most amazing thing of all—
she
loved
him.

A spark of understanding exploded in him. His pulse tripped and his heart raced in his chest. With every speck of his being, he grasped the truth. He loved her, too.

I’m in love with Addie.

“Charles?”

Clutching his ribs, Charles rose with a groan from the cot and staggered to the door. Roscoe Sullivan took one look at him and blanched. “Charles? You okay?”

“Yeah.” Charles crumpled into his desk chair and sucked in his breath. That hurt. Everything hurt, as if he’d been run over by a wagon and three teams of horses. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine-thirty.”

Addie would be awake, getting ready for church. He’d get cleaned up, then make amends. He started to rise. “I’m sorry I can’t talk now, Roscoe.”

“Wait!” His gaze took in Charles’s face, the bruises on his neck. “Ed did that. Those are
his
fingerprints.”

All the fear and anger Charles had stowed during Addie’s narrow escape slammed into his lungs. “Yes. Your nephew broke into Addie’s home and tried to kill her.”

“I know.” Roscoe dropped into a chair, his head drooping between his shoulders. His face looked haggard, as if he’d aged ten years. “Is Miss Crum all right?”

Charles pulled back from his anger, realizing Roscoe had also suffered. “Yes, just shook up. Ed splashed kerosene all over the shop. He planned to set it on fire after he’d…” Charles couldn’t finish, couldn’t bear to consider what would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten back.

“Thank God she wasn’t harmed. I should have seen…what Ed had become. I should have known Frances couldn’t be that clumsy.” Roscoe’s voice quavered and his eyes filled with tears. He swiped them away with the back of his hand and took a shaky breath. “I’ve been over at Doc’s. Frances made it through the night, but she’s got a lot of healing to do.”

“I hope she makes it.” Frances had shown a passel of courage and, thanks to her husband, had endured more pain than a human being should. “I can imagine how tough this is for you, Roscoe. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. If only I’d listened to you, somehow I could have stopped this madness.” A faraway look came into Roscoe’s eyes. His lip trembled. “Ed was the cutest little tyke. I used to take him fishing. We’d sit on the bank along White River and he’d chatter like a magpie. I’d say, ‘Little less talking and a little more fishing, boy.’” As he spoke, Roscoe mopped at his tears with his bandanna. “Eddie’s death must’ve made him snap.”

Roscoe stuffed his handkerchief into his pocket. “I came to tell you something else. Frances asked the committee to give custody of William and Emma to Miss Crum. The committee agreed.” He gave a wan smile. “Those poor kids have been through enough. Staying with Miss Crum will give them stability. I figured you’d like to tell her.”

Charles could well imagine the look of pure joy the news would put on Addie’s face. Soon as he could get Roscoe out of here, he intended to put another look of joy on her face. That is, if she’d have him.

“I’ll try to undo the damage I did to the paper and her reputation.” Roscoe hauled himself to his feet. “I’m headed over to the jail to see Ed. I despise what he’s done, but I’m all he has.”

Charles walked Roscoe to the door. He clamped a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” The words sounded hollow, but he couldn’t find better ones.

Roscoe left and Charles’s gaze swept over the printing press, the narrow drawers of type and reams of newsprint. Because of his father, he’d come to this town, fulfilled his dream of ownership. How strange Adam Graves had done that for him after all those years of misery.

Stranger still, by making Addie a co-owner of the paper, Adam had put Charles and Addie together. Addie had been right. His father had reached out to him from the grave. And this time he had thought of someone besides himself.

Charles checked the clock. Nine forty-five. If he hoped to win Addie, he’d have to make sure she didn’t doubt his love. She might even make him eat a little crow. He grinned. If so, he deserved a huge helping. And he knew just where he’d find her this bright Sunday morning.

He hadn’t shaved, had fought and slept in his rumpled clothes, but he had to do this. Now.

He half ran, half stumbled the three blocks down Ninth Street and skidded to a stop outside the First Christian Church. Worshippers, shocked looks on their faces, parted like the Red Sea to let him pass. Snatches of conversation told him people had heard about last night.

A man Charles didn’t know but recognized clapped him on the back. Another hollered, “Good work, Graves!” A third shook his hand. “I’ll be taking the paper again, especially if you keep Miss Crum’s column.”

But he paid no attention. Instead he searched the crowd. Then, he spotted her at the top of the steps, talking to the pastor. Addie. A vision in a blue dress and hat—no birds on this one, he thought with a chuckle, just a simple rose festooned ribbon encircling the crown. Hands resting on Emma’s and William’s shoulders, her face radiated serenity. His heart lurched in his chest.

“Mr. Graves!” Emma yelled, catching sight of him.

He waved at her, searching for another welcome.

Addie’s gaze traveled the assemblage, a puzzled expression on her face. He hurried closer, until he stood at the bottom of the steps. He held his breath, waiting…and then her lips curved in a smile, filling him with a sense of rightness.

Oh, how he loved this woman. Her goodness, the hope she’d steadfastly clung to, her strength. He would spend his life trying to live up to her faith in him.

“Miss Adelaide Crum!” Charles called up to her, quieting the crowd. “I’d like the honor of attending church with you and Emma and William.”

She extended a hand toward him but he held up his palm. “Before we go in, I have something to say.”

Adelaide took in Charles’s battered, smiling face and her insides went liquid with hope. Around her, puffy white clouds drifted across the sky, and a flash of red disappeared into a nearby evergreen. A gentle breeze tickled her nape as the cardinal added his song to the song in her heart.

Charles laid a palm on his chest. “I’m in love with you!” he shouted up at her.

Adelaide’s heart leapt at the words she’d been waiting for all her life, the words she needed to hear from Charles.

“I want to share our dreams, bring up these children and grow old together.” He released a shaking breath. “I’ve been able to forgive. I’ve asked God to forgive me. And though I have no idea why, He has! I’ll be thanking Him this morning—in church—for His love and for yours, that is, if it’s still available.”

Tears sprang in Adelaide’s eyes. At last, Charles realized God loved him. He wanted to worship in church. He loved her.

She wished for the words that would change her life, yet waited to see if the editor in him could string together words strong enough to rope her in. Not that it would take much, she decided with an inward grin.

“Oh, and one more thing.” He paused. Her heart beat a hundred times in that moment. “Will you marry me?”

She folded her arms across her middle, a tease on her lips. “Not unless you ask me proper.”

Charles took the steps two at a time. At her feet, he went down on one knee, raising an arm in a beseeching manner, triggering a few chuckles from the men and dreamy sighs from the ladies.

Adelaide had to hold herself tight to keep from throwing her arms around his neck. Waiting, every moment slowed to a crawl.

“Adelaide Crum, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes!” she cried, the word bursting from her lips. “Yes, Charles, I’ll marry you!”

A cheer rose up from the congregation and Emma danced around Adelaide’s skirts as the reality sank in—she and Charles would spend the rest of their lives together. After years of loneliness, God had given her the desires of her heart.

When the hubbub subsided, Charles’s gaze sought the children’s. “Emma, William, is it all right with you?”

At Adelaide’s side, William’s face lit up like a Roman candle. Emma threw her arms around Charles’s neck and hugged him with all her might, until she squeaked.

Over the little girl’s head, Charles gaze sought Adelaide’s with an intensity that promised he’d be there today, tomorrow and always, that they’d be a family, a real family. Slowly, he rose, scooping up Emma, never taking his eyes off Adelaide.

He pulled William close, then took her hand, his grip firm, and faced the minister. “I’ve been away a long time, Pastor. Do you suppose God will remember my name?”

Pastor Foley smiled, his hazel eyes crinkling. “Not only your name, but the exact number of hairs on your head.”

Charles nodded. “He’s probably been tempted plenty of times to pull out a hank.”

The pastor chuckled. “Good thing God doesn’t work that way or we’d all be bald.”

Smiling, Charles tugged Addie close. “It looks like we’re going to need your services.”

Pastor Foley gave an approving nod. “Whenever you say.”

“I hear July twenty-fifth is a special woman’s birthday.”

“How did you know?” Adelaide asked.

“I told him!” Laura threw her arms around Adelaide and then lowered her voice. “Thank God you’re both all right! My knees ache from praying!”

Pastor Foley pulled out his pocket watch, and flipped it open. “Well, I’d better get this service underway.” He smiled. “See you inside.”

Parishioners flowed past, heading into the church, stopping long enough to give them congratulations. The men slapped Charles on the back and the women hugged Adelaide, some with tears welling in their eyes.

Mr. Paul came up beside them, the tufts of hair on his head swaying in the breeze. “With a strong woman like Miss Crum, you’re going to have your hands full, Graves.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“A woman like that keeps a man from making some serious mistakes.” His gaze met Adelaide’s. “Like the ones I’ve made. I’m sorry, Miss Crum.”

This whole town needed a lesson in forgiveness, starting here. Adelaide laid a hand on his arm. “You’re forgiven,” she said then watched him enter the building.

Everyone in town, well, at least, the membership of the First Christian Church, appeared happy for them.

Roscoe Sullivan climbed the steps last, slowly, as if he didn’t have the strength to go on. He stopped before Adelaide, his gaze downcast. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you.”

Mr. Sullivan had tried to turn the town against her, but if she couldn’t forgive him, would she be any different than her mother? He had been taken in by his nephew, as had most of the town. Adelaide gave him a smile. “I accept your apology and hope you’ll visit William and Emma. They could use a grandfather.”

For a moment Roscoe stood speechless. “I—I’m grateful for your clemency.”

“It took me a while to learn to forgive, Mr. Sullivan,” Adelaide admitted, glancing in the direction of the cemetery. “But forgiving feels awfully good.”

As the bell tolled, announcing the start of the service, everyone had entered the church. “Alone at last,” Charles said, bending down and giving her a tender kiss. “Despite the bird in your hat, I love you, Adelaide Crum.”

Adelaide gave him a playful punch on the arm. “Despite the mess on your desk, I love you, Charles Graves.”

The first hymn drowned out their laughter.

Charles’s expression grew serious and he hauled her to him. “I love you,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.