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He peered quickly around. Tall sacks of grain separated them from the two men, and he could hear their animated conversation, but it was only a matter of time before her father started looking for her.
“I miss you, Frank.”
Her forlorn voice pulled at him. Setting the bag down between them, he framed her face with his hands and tilted it up until he could see her eyes. “I’ve missed you, too, ” he whispered. “But we can’t meet here.”
“Then where? You never come to the house and I can’t go to the widow Bartlett’s by myself.” She sniffed loudly, then let her breath out in a long sigh.
When he chuckled, her eyes flashed. “You think it’s funny that we can’t meet?”
He bent down and kissed her on the lips. “No, I think your playacting is funny.” At the mutinous look in her eyes, he kissed her again, a hard kiss that left them both breathless.
“Frank, what are we going to do?”
When her shining face tipped toward his, he knew he was lost. He wouldn’t call it love but he couldn’t imagine living without her.
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll come up with something, Marian.” At the scraping sound that signaled the stools were being pushed aside, he nudged her toward the front of the store. “Until then, trust me.”
The tremulous look she gave him was full of trust. No one had ever regarded him that way before. His chest swelling with pride, he flung a bag to the top of the pile, her tempting smile urging him on.
That night, he wrote to his mother and told her about his new job and the village. He made only a passing mention of the Coopers, including them in a list of families who’d invited him into their homes. The letter sealed, he lay back on his bed. For the first time since he’d gone on the road, he felt a burning desire to return home, to try again with his father, to see his mother and ask her about his feelings for Marian.
The next Sunday, he saw Marian at the church. When Frank would’ve walked down the steps, she laid a gloved hand on his arm. He paused, his eyes going from her somber face to that of her father. Reverend Cooper didn’t hesitate to offer him an invitation to dinner.
“I appreciate it, sir, but I couldn’t impose—”
“Nonsense, ” Reverend Cooper interrupted with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been remiss in our duty to you, young man. Only the other day, Mrs. Cooper asked how you were getting on. Come to dinner and set her mind at rest.”
“If you insist…”
He didn’t look at Marian during the short walk to the house. Once inside the parlor, he sat across from Reverend Cooper and answered his questions about work. “This is a fine town, ” he assured the older man. “I feel as if I’m already part of the community.”
Reverend Cooper beamed. “Wonderful place, Winston. When I left the seminary, I realized immediately that this was where I wanted to raise my family.” He reached over and touched Marian’s hands. “My family is second only to God, Frank. I hope you feel the same way.”
Startled, Frank wondered if the reverend referred to his feelings for Marian. After a moment’s reflection, he decided the older man was questioning Frank’s relationship with his own family.
“I’ve written my mother about my situation here, ” he mumbled, glad that in this, at least, he could tell the plain truth.
“Good, good.” Reverend Cooper released Marian’s hand as Mrs. Cooper announced the meal.
When dinner was over, Frank excused himself, ignoring the frustrated look Marian sent his way. He couldn’t sit in the parlor again, not with her father watching him. Even though he was sure the earlier comments were just ordinary conversation, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that a warning had been implied.
The next Friday, Adam invited him home for dinner. The entire family greeted him, and he recognized several friends of the Bates children already sitting at the table. After a filling meal, he joined the large brood around the piano, letting his tenor mingle with the bright voices of the Bates family. They sang round after round of song. When they broke into “Button Up Your Overcoat, ” the group roared as Mrs. Bates tugged at his top button before kissing his cheek and sending him home for the night.
Whistling, he pushed open the gate at Widow Bartlett’s house. She was gone for the weekend, which meant he had the entire house at his disposal. No new tenants had arrived to rent the other spare rooms and he relished the thought of several hours to himself.
Loosening his tie as he entered his room, he frowned at the sight of a letter on his bed. He tossed his tie over a chair and picked up the envelope. Seeing his mother’s firm handwriting, he slit it open, then pulled out the single sheet.
She wanted him to come home. The people he mentioned sounded like good company, she wrote, but wouldn’t he rather be with his family?
“We miss you, all of us. Even your father wants you home.”
He dropped the letter on the bed and stretched out, his legs crossed at the ankles. Was that true? He couldn’t remember anything but arguments with his dad in the years before he left. Everything he’d done had upset his father—his friends, the job he’d pursued, his grades. His mother and older sister had often stepped in to stop the two of them from fighting. He couldn’t remember a single relaxing evening such as the one he’d just spent with the Bates family.
Something struck his window and he sat up, frowning. He heard the faint rattle again and crawled off the bed, yanking the curtain aside and peering into the deepening gloom.
“Frank?” A throaty whisper spilled into the open window.
“Marian?” He leaned on the ledge, unable to distinguish her shape from the shadows in the yard.
“Please, Frank, come outside.”
She met him at the bottom of the steps and flung her arms around him. “Oh, Frank!”
He disentangled himself from her hold, then led her into the protection of the large oak trees surrounding Mrs. Bartlett’s property. Even though his landlady was away, anyone walking by the house would be able to see them. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s Father. Oh, Frank!” She flung herself back into his arms. “He says it’s time for me to get married and he’s already picked out my husband!”
“Get married? Isn’t this rather sudden?”
She hiccupped and he could feel her nod. “I turned eighteen on Tuesday and he decided I’m old enough.”
Frank leaned back until he could see the outline of her face. He traced her cheek with his thumbs, wiping away the tears. “And who has he selected?” he asked quietly.
“Martin Applethwaite.”
Frank frowned, trying to place the name. Was it one of the men who’d come into the feed store? After a moment, he shook his head. “I don’t know him.”
“You wouldn’t.” She sniffled and he took out his handkerchief, waiting while she blew her nose. “Father met him when they both attended a special session at the seminary last year, and they’ve been writing to each other ever since. Mr. Applethwaite wrote that he’s coming to visit next month. He’s a widower and I don’t know if they hatched this plan together or not, but Father’s determined that I’ll be his next wife.”
Her voice rose in a loud wail, and Frank gathered her close to muffle her words. “Marian, surely you can talk to your father. Who knows? Besides, maybe you’ll like this Appleton guy.”
“Applethwaite, ” she corrected with another hiccup. “And I don’t like him. He’s old, Frank, almost forty, and he smells, and he never stops talking. Anyway, I don’t want to marry him. I want to marry you.”
Frank’s heart pounded. Marian lifted her head. “What’s the matter, Frank? Don’t you want to marry me? Isn’t that why you’ve stayed in town, so we could get to know each other better?”
“Well, it is. But marriage…Marian, I can’t offer a wife very much.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “That’s all right, Frank, I don’t need very much. But I refuse to marry someone my father chooses for me.”
“He wants you to be happy.”
“Why are you agreeing with Father?” Marian stared at him, her eyes almost black in the fading light. “Do you want me to marry another man? I thought you loved me.”
Her declaration echoed in his ears. Did he love her? He’d never said the words. But why was he staying in the area?
She struggled to get out of his arms and his hold tightened. “Marian…”
“No, let me go! I thought you’d help me because you cared about me. But I guess I was wrong.” She pulled free of his grasp and stepped away, her chest heaving with each angry breath. “I should’ve realized what was happening when you never came over to the house.”
“But, Marian, how could I? What would I say to your father?”
“You could ask permission to court his daughter.”
One corner of Frank’s mouth twisted into a lopsided grin. “And of course your father would’ve accepted me with open arms. I’m just the man the reverend Cooper would want for his only child—a salesman who appeared on his doorstep one day.”
She stamped her foot. “You’re the man I love, Frank Robertson. Isn’t that enough?”
Oh, Marian, darling, he wanted to say, you’re such a sweet child, with your dreams of romance, flowers, candlelight. At least your father understands marriage requires more than that.
His lips tightened. Would this widower give her the romance she needed? Or was he just looking for a drudge to care for his house?
“Marian, does Applethwaite have any children?”
She nodded against his shirtfront. “Two boys. Father says they’re absolute angels.”
Frank grimaced. Usually when two boys were described as angels, they were either the exact opposite or dead bores. He couldn’t see Marian mothering either of them. No doubt these boys were hellions and the reason their father was going farther afield to find a wife.
“Marian, when is he coming?”
She must have sensed the change in him because when she spoke, her voice sounded stronger. “The end of August. His sister will be visiting him and he’s leaving the boys with her.”
A sure sign that the boys weren’t angels. The man was smart; he didn’t plan to ruin his prospects with his friend’s daughter by bringing the future stepsons with him.
“All right.” He bent down until his face was level with hers. “Dry your eyes and go home. Don’t say anything to upset your father but don’t agree to the marriage, either.”
She nodded and blinked several times. “What will you do, Frank?”
He wasn’t sure. But he couldn’t stand the idea of her with another man.
Her hand brushed against his cheek. “I do love you, Frank.”
He kissed her lips, then turned her toward the road. “Go home and stop worrying about this. Everything will work out.”
He watched her walk down the road, her shoulders drooping and her pace slow. His heart thudded in his chest. Short of marrying her himself, what could he do to save her from Applethwaite or someone else like him?
Disgusted with her father, he climbed the stairs and entered his small bedroom. When he sat down on the bed, a piece of paper rustled under his leg. He stared at the words his mother had written. Come home.
Home. He could pack his bags and catch the next train north. By tomorrow night, he could be back with his family, sleeping in his own room, eating his mother’s cooking. He could leave the traveling life, go to work for his father.
He leaned against the headboard, hands clasped behind his neck. If he went home with a wife, his father would have to see him as a man. He could rescue Marian and, at the same time, provide himself with a way to convince his father he’d grown up.
The next afternoon, he ran down the street as soon as the feed store closed. He bathed quickly, washing away the smell of grain and smoothing down his thick hair. Dressed in his new suit, he walked over to the Coopers’ house, his back straight and his lips clamped together.
Marian answered the door; when she saw him, her hand flew to her throat. “Frank, what are you doing here?”
“I need to see your father, Marian.”
Her eyes widened. He tapped one finger against her lips. “Trust me, Marian.”
She nodded and led him into the parlor. A few minutes later, her father joined him. “Well, young man, Marian tells me you’ve requested a few minutes of my time. What would you like to talk about?”
Frank took a deep breath. Now that the moment had arrived, he didn’t know what to say. He swallowed more than once before the words came out.
“Sir, I would like to marry your daughter.”
The words were soft but their effect was the same as if he’d shouted them. Reverend Cooper advanced on Frank, his normally placid features distorted. Frank took an involuntary step away from the fury in the older man’s face, then forced himself to stand still.
“Marry my daughter? How dare you? After the hospitality we’ve shown you, welcoming you into our home, finding you a job. Why, I should throw you from this house!”
Reverend Cooper strode around the room, hands clenched into fists at his sides, body rigid. Afraid to move, Frank watched in awe. He’d been prepared for some anger when Reverend Cooper realized what he wanted but he hadn’t been ready for the extent of the older man’s rage.
Reverend Cooper stopped by the window, his shoulders heaving. “I suppose my daughter told you about the proposal from Martin Applethwaite, ” he said without turning around.
“Yes, sir.”
“And no doubt you have some romantic idea of saving her from this fate.” The man’s words were heavy with sarcasm.
“That’s not my only reason for proposing.”
“No, I’m sure it’s not.” Reverend Cooper whirled around, his eyes narrowed and his hands still clenched at his sides. “She isn’t pregnant, is she?”
Frank gasped and his own eyes narrowed. “No, sir, ” he snapped. “You insult your daughter by implying she could be.”
Cooper’s lips were pressed tight. “At least that’s one worry I won’t have when she goes to Applethwaite.”
Frank took a deep breath, trying to restrain his anger. If he could calmly convince this man that he was the right choice for his daughter…
“Sir, Marian doesn’t want to marry Applethwaite. She loves me and wants to marry me.”
“And you? Do you love her?”
A sneer followed the word love. Frank stared at the man, then slowly nodded. “Yes, I do, sir. And I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy.”
“Happy! Bah!” Reverend Cooper turned back to the windows and placed one hand against the glass. “And what can you offer her? Applethwaite is a respected member of his community, a man already settled with a lovely home and two boys. What do you have?”
“I may not have a home yet, but Marian and I don’t need much. We’ll make our own way.”
Reverend Cooper shook his head. “Young love. Do you have any idea how many couples I’ve counseled after young love disappears? You barely know each other and have little in common. You breeze into town one day, see a girl who catches your eye, and fancy you’re in love.” He swung around, his hands more relaxed. “I’m doing you a favor, young man. Pack your bags and leave tonight. My daughter will cry for a few days and then, when Applethwaite shows up with his offer, she’ll be happy to marry him.”
Frank scowled at him. “Is that what you want for your daughter? A marriage without love?”
“I want my daughter to be secure.” He waved his hand around the room. “I’m old, Mr. Robertson, and I won’t be here forever. With Applethwaite, my daughter will be cared for. She won’t have to worry about her next meal.”
“I can take of her, ” Frank said stubbornly.
“How? You live hand-to-mouth. You came into town with all your belongings in one bag. Have you even saved a penny?”
Frank thought of all the money he’d sent to his mother. He would’ve had a tidy nest egg if he’d kept that money. But his father was stingy, and Frank had assumed he’d have years to start saving for himself.
