Deeply Devoted (32 page)

How could she have been so blind? She had been certain he loved her. She shook her head and walked to the sink. After pouring water from the pitcher into the bowl, she splashed her face. She’d thought about it most of the day and hadn’t wanted to believe the quiet voice in her head implying that there were differences in their beliefs. Mac had said as much before, and he said he didn’t need to attend church and didn’t need God. That’s why he would promise to go but never showed up.

Had she let the desires of her heart overrule her head? A thought popped into her head and she tried to think it through.
“Don’t cast your pearls before swine,” or something like that?
Now where had she read that? Somewhere in Matthew? She’d look it up later. But there was significant meaning in that verse for her, regarding Mac. There was much she had to make amends for. But first she’d have to find a way to get over her heartache.

She dressed and made herself some strong coffee, but she couldn’t bear the thought of eating. Her stomach was in an uproar. She put her dishes in the sink and stood wondering what she should do as the long day stretched out before her.

The doorbell rang. She hurried to the front door and saw a messenger through the window. “Yes?” she asked when she swung open the door.

The adolescent delivery boy jumped back a step with her questioning frown. “Ma’am, I was to deliver this to you this morning.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anything this morning. I didn’t mean to shout at you,” Clara said, taking the small wrapped package from him.

“Aw, it’s okay, I don’t mind. But could you sign here for me?” The boy held out a tablet, and she scrawled her name on the printed space and dated it.

She reached inside her dress pocket and handed him a few coins. “Thanks, son.”

He bobbed his thanks and traipsed back down the stone steps.

Clara went to the living room and sat by the window overlooking the street. She untied the string around the box and peeled off the paper wrapping. A letter and a set of beautiful tortoise-shell hair combs took her breath away.
Who in the world . . . ?
Opening the folded paper, she started to read the note.

My sweet . . . can I call you that? I think I always will. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you, but I just couldn’t see this working out with us. With me on the road all of the time, I couldn’t expect you to give up your home in Cheyenne, or your church, or your son and, perhaps soon, grandchildren. I won’t let you. And I do not want to be someone who wrecks lives or homes. Please understand it’s not about love but practicality. And truth be told, I don’t think I have your kind of strength, your accountability to life and love.

I’m enclosing a check for that last advance you gave me on the investigation. I never used it—it was just a way for you to think I needed further work on the case and to prolong our time together. We have had good memories together with lots of laughter.

I care for you deeply, but I think this is best, so this is goodbye. I hope you’ll wear the combs in your beautiful hair and think of me.

Always,
Mac

Pain tore straight down the center of Clara’s heart, ripping it in two until it felt like stone. She stared at the letter, unable to cry anymore. It was apparent that Mac had no concept that God couldn’t be confined to a building. God dwelled in her heart. There were many churches where she could’ve felt at home, as long as the truth was preached. Clara knew that she’d made some mistakes and wasn’t perfect, but God’s love for her and His forgiveness would see her through.

Mac spoke out of both sides of his mouth. It finally hit her how selfish he was. Yes, he’d told her once that he
may
have been in love with her, and he said all the right things when it was good for him to do so. He was handsome, intelligent, and full of energy, and she was going to miss that. He had his faults, but she overlooked them, and her love for him had been unconditional. That was the problem. Love sliced both ways, but he took the choicest portion for himself—and gave very little in return.

Clara leaned her head back in her chair, dropped the letter to the floor, and closed her eyes. She prayed . . . prayed like she never had before.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Angelina crooked her arm around Catharine’s and tilted her head to the side, giving Catharine a penetrating look. “I wish you’d at least think on it another few days.”

Mario stood by with a sad look on his face, whether for Peter or for her, Catharine couldn’t tell. “You all can stay with us instead of running away. We’d be a little crowded, but just until you made other arrangements.” He scratched his head, thinking aloud. “I could use the extra help in the evenings. We’re very busy at the restaurant, you know.”

Catharine wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and sniffed into her handkerchief. She knew that Mario was just offering to hire them out of his desire to help, not because he really needed help. “I truly appreciate your thoughtful consideration to hire us, but I have no other choices. Staying here and running into Peter would make our lives too hard. I should have been honest with him from the beginning. He’s never going to forgive me now.” She crossed her arms and glanced over at Greta and Anna, who were sitting on a nearby bench surrounded by their bags.

The Union Pacific depot was bustling as usual with the arrival and departures of passengers, and any other time Catharine would be energized by all the activity. But now the beautiful depot only served as a reminder that she’d once been excited to meet her future husband.

“I can’t thank you both enough for what your friendship has meant to me and my sisters. How can I ever repay you for your kindness?” Catharine sniffed again. “Where are the twins this afternoon? I wanted to say goodbye.”

Mario twisted the ends of his mustache and looked around nervously, as though he expected them to come screaming through the depot. “You know how fickle kids at their age can be. Plus they don’t like goodbyes and prefer playing in the park when they aren’t helping out at the restaurant.”

Anna left the bench and sidled up to Angelina. “You will check on the puppies or maybe help Peter find them good homes, won’t you?”

Angelina hugged the girl. “I’ll see what I can do . . . maybe we’ll take one of them, right, Mario?” she asked.

Mario’s eyes grew large. “Well . . . I can’t say for sure . . . but yes, we’ll give it some thought and I’ll ask Angelo and Alfredo if they’d like one.”

Anna seemed satisfied with Mario’s answer, but Catharine was sad that they couldn’t take them along.

Greta walked over to the group, saying, “Our train will be here in a few moments, Cath. We should say our goodbyes now.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Angelina said. “We don’t want you to miss your train. Once you’re settled in Denver, please write us.” Her eyes expressed warmth but threatened tears.

Catharine couldn’t help but notice that Mario glanced around in agitation, then pulled out his pocket watch to check the time.
He’s probably not good with saying goodbye either.
Catharine knew it was hardly likely their paths would cross again, which made their goodbyes all the more poignant.

The UP personnel shouted the announcement that the train for Denver would be boarding in the next fifteen minutes.

Catharine twisted the wedding band on her finger. “Oh dear . . . I guess we must go now.”

Mario smiled, looking past her shoulder, then leaned over to give her shoulder a squeeze. Angelina’s sad face lit up and her mouth dropped open. Catharine turned to see what she was so shocked about, and her heart skipped a beat.

Peter’s hands were shaking so hard that he thought he might drop his end of the box. Thankfully the twins carried the other side.

Before going to the hotel, Peter had dropped by and spoken briefly with Mario about his plan.

“Excellent idea! I’m glad you are going to go talk to Catharine.” Mario shook his head. “Angelina and I were so saddened about all of this. You are doing what’s right, Peter.” Mario popped him on the back.

“I sure hope so, Mario. I don’t want to live without her.”

“Then go tell her. She’s still at the Rollins Hotel for now, but Angelina said she didn’t expect her to stay.”

“I’m heading that way just as soon as I run by the bank with a deposit.”

“Ciao!” Mario waved, watching Peter hurry off.

When he arrived at the hotel fifteen minutes later, the clerk told him that Catharine and her sisters had checked out moments before. He muttered under his breath in frustration. “Do you know where they might be headed? Another hotel?” he asked the doorman.

The doorman shrugged. “Mister, I don’t have a clue where they were going, but they mentioned the UP depot. It’s really none of my business, sir.”

Peter took a silver dollar out of his pocket and slapped it in the doorman’s hand. “Thanks!”

The doorman smiled broadly and yelled after him, “Thank
you
!”

Peter flew down the stairs to his wagon. Maybe he’d get there before the train left—it was just down the street. In moments he was zipping past carriages and buggies and flying past the park in front of the train depot. He spied Alfredo and Angelo playing catch with their baseball and mitts, right where Mario had said they’d be.

Peter stopped the buggy and hopped down. He called out to them and they ran up, hugging him. “I’m so glad you’re here! Would you like to make some change helping me with a surprise?”

“Sure!” Alfredo said.

Angelo nodded eagerly. “Whaddya need?”

Peter leaned down to the twins and told them his plans. The boys were only too happy to help him out and scampered behind Peter to his wagon.

Now, as they entered the huge atrium of the Union Pacific depot, several curious passengers stopped to watch as Peter paused to look for Catharine. He spotted Mario smiling as he was giving Catharine a hug, and he winked conspiratorially at Peter over her shoulder. She was dressed in a green traveling dress with a crisp white blouse beneath her matching jacket.

Peter watched as Catharine slowly turned and saw him. Her drawn and pinched face shocked him. He froze. A sadder face he couldn’t ever recall seeing. Not even his mother’s crying had moved him the way the look in Catharine’s eyes did.
A look of a crushed spirit or of resignation?
Peter swallowed, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, denying him the eloquent speech of forgiveness he’d planned. In that long moment they exchanged looks of hurt and raw feelings, and it was as if the two of them were all alone in the noisy, bustling train depot. Neither moved—each full of selfish pride.

Catharine didn’t say a word but turned back around to continue with her goodbyes, then picked up her carpetbag.

“This crate’s getting heavy. Can we please set it down now, Peter?” Alfredo begged, jarring Peter back to his senses.

“I’m sorry, boys. Yes, let’s set it down right here.” They set the crate on the floor.

Mario shot Peter a look of impatience, then motioned for him to go ahead and make his move. Peter was determined in his purpose.

“Catharine,” he yelled across the wide atrium. His heart pounded as Catharine slowly turned back around and mouthed, “Peter . . .” She moved closer to him.

“Catharine, I’m sorry. I . . . never meant to say all the things I said. I don’t care who or what has happened before. I only know I don’t want to spend my life without you. If you’ll forgive me, we could give this another try based on trust and love.” Before she opened her mouth, Peter turned to the twins to whisper, “Okay, now, boys.”

Alfredo lifted out a Blue Willow platter and handed it to Peter while Angelo was bent on one knee digging into the crate. Peter crossed the few feet to Catharine, holding the large platter at waist level as if serving her a meal. “If you will let it, this Blue Willow platter can represent my promise to fill your life with my trust and love and a houseful of children.” He thrust the platter into her hands as Mario reached over and took the carpetbag from her. Surprise filled Catharine’s face as she held the platter, looking unsure of what to do with Peter’s apology and admission of love.

Peter turned, and Angelo handed him a teacup and saucer. “This is to replace the one that I accidentally broke. May your cup run over with goodness, mercy, and the plans we’ll make together.”

Peter enjoyed watching Catharine’s reaction, which looked to be something between disbelief and pleasure. Greta was speechless for once. Angelina held her hands together in rapt attention, while Anna watched the scene unfold with her wide, innocent eyes.

Catharine clutched the dishes to herself. No doubt she was wondering where he’d gotten them. Hopefully there would be plenty of time to tell her later.

“I . . . I . . .” she stuttered.

Peter noticed the softening of her face. He was making headway and was encouraged by the look in her beautiful eyes. He continued on, aware that some people had stopped to watch. Alfredo stepped up and handed Peter a beautiful soup tureen.

“This, my dearest Catharine, can represent all the family and friends that gather around our table to celebrate holidays and good times.”

She balanced the dishes stacked in her arms, but not a soul moved to assist. He saw the edge of her mouth quiver. Was she trying not to smile?

He wasn’t through yet. Angelo handed him the salt and pepper shakers. “This is the spice you have added to my life so far, and without it I don’t think I can exist.” Catharine blinked at his admission. She stared agape at his unconventional method of apology.

Peter wondered if he looked like a fool, but he pressed on. He stepped over to Greta, and Alfredo handed him something. “Greta, I know you’ve had a rough time since Bryan left, and I don’t know what the future holds for you, but I want you to take this Blue Willow cake server and slice your wedding cake with the groom God has for you.”

Greta looked completely caught off guard. “Peter, it’s beautiful. I promise you that I will use it for my own wedding.” She stared down at the knife in her hand, turning it over to admire the delicate blue pattern on the china handle.

Peter turned to Anna. “Anna, I want you to take this cup and saucer to build your own Blue Willow set, but I don’t want to see those puppies drinking out of the saucer.” He chuckled, and he heard Angelina, Mario, and Greta laugh.

“But . . .” Anna looked at him curiously.

Peter snapped his fingers, and the twins lifted the puppies’ box out of the crate, where he’d placed them before leaving for town. The boys placed the box of wiggling puppies at Anna’s feet. “Now don’t let the puppies out of the box here, but if each of you will come back home with me, you can keep all four puppies. I promise.” Peter looked at Anna and felt fatherly tenderness toward her. “The house is lonely and quiet without all of you.”

Anna’s tears of joy spilled down her cheeks, and she was in Peter’s arms instantly.

“Oh, Peter . . . I do hope we will,” she said. She turned to Catharine, who stood motionless, the Blue Willow dishes heaped high in her arms. Everyone held their breath, but Mario cleared his throat loudly, then nodded his head at Peter while the twins moved away. The train whistle blew, announcing its departure, and Catharine started.

“What’s it going to be?” Peter strolled closer to Catharine. “Are those getting heavy? You don’t have the bear the burden alone, Catharine. I’m sorry for all you’ve been through. Say you’ll come back home where you belong.”

“Oh, Peter,” Catharine murmured, and Peter saw her eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry for not telling you everything. Can we learn to trust again?” Catharine looked up at him, openness and honesty reflected in her eyes. “Are you sure you still want me—and my sisters—in your life?”