“Thomas is a fair man,” Niles said, “but he isn’t who you need to seek forgiveness from.”

  “I know that, and I will work through my relationship with God. But this must be spoken. I will not have it as a secret to fuel others’ hate. I have a great distance to go to be the type of man anyone should listen to. Which brings me to my second reason for traveling.”

  Coming out of the narrow pass, the wagon sped a bit whilst aimed downhill. Lafayette hauled back on the reins, forcing the horse to slow.

  “This relates to the truth I mentioned.” He inhaled, the frosty air shivering in his lungs. “I do not know my wife’s name.”

  Niles brow furrowed.

  “To explain, the woman I wrote to, wishing to wed, Pigeon Burgess, was killed in a ferry accident. My wife, without my knowledge, took her place.”

  “You knew of this and wed her?”

  Lafayette shook his head. “I knew nothing until yesterday morning. But I admit I have been trying to figure out how so much of what the woman wrote wasn’t true. Pigeon counteracted her words time and time again. Yesterday, she admitted to me, at last, her deception, and though I was angry, I saw it counterbalanced with the folly of my own ways. I now owe the woman I would have wed her final resting place. I heard, when I picked up Pigeon from the wharf, they expected to find the people washed ashore. It has been several weeks, and I fear I may be too late, but thought perhaps with the cold …”

  “I can send a telegraph,” Niles said. “I know those who can find out. It is an honorable thing to do.”

  Honorable and necessary. But still not his only reason for going to town.

  Niles pursed his lips. “There is more?” he asked.

  Lafayette nodded. “I want the names of the people who were on that ferry and barring its availability, those on the train they departed from. My wife refuses to tell me who she is, and though it does not matter for the path of our lives, it matters to her parents who think her having passed. She gave me the name of a man, as well, that might help serve to find them. She will be upset that I have sought to know, but this time, I am not the one standing in the wrong.”

  This time, he would do what she would not. He’d promised not to ask her about it. He hadn’t promised not to find out and, the holiday approaching, knew the greatest gift to give her was the truth. She was his wife, and she pleased him. He looked forward to spending time with her again, but he looked forward to having no more things hidden between them, to living with a clear conscience, and, this Christmas, knowing her parents had their daughter back again.

  Niles hunched his shoulders in his great coat and looked ahead. Lafayette did the same. The wagon continued forward, each plod of the horse’s hooves taking them toward his freedom. Because there lay the final portion of it. He must make the steps to walk out of where he’d been. No one would do it for him, and it could be if he didn’t make the effort, this would be his last opportunity to become the man he should have been all along.

  *(Eph 5:25)

  CHAPTER 7

  Cosette favored her brother in small ways, the lift of her brow, the shape of her nose, even in the way she talked. Hers was more feminine though and seasoned with grace and kindness. She settled a basket on the table and began to unpack it, the scent of fresh bread and meats making Pigeon’s mouth water.

  “I know how my brother is in his haste,” she said, her fingers in the basket. “He gets a task in his mind and cannot deviate, even to eat.”

  “I appreciate the food again. I feel deeply in your debt.”

  Cosette smiled at her and took a seat. She nodded toward the food. “I did not prepare it. The Millfords have servants for that, but I know they were most willing to send it. We are all of different walks of life, each able to do things others cannot. I do not judge you for an inability to prepare food.”

  Though they’d not talked about that specifically, that Cosette had drawn that conclusion showed her perspicacity.

  “I have tried.” Pigeon displayed her injured palm.

  Cosette, a hiss leaving her lips, reached for it. Before she could speak, Pigeon reassured her. “That had nothing to do with Lafayette. He has been most patient to teach me, but my fingers slipped.”

  “If I’d have known, I’d have brought you ointment. You must keep it clean.” Her fingers still on Pigeon’s palm, she looked up, and the air between them stretched taut. “It is not my business to ask, but Lafayette said you’d worked out your differences.”

  Pigeon faced the comment for what it was, his sister’s concern, and saw no reason to hide from her. “He kept himself from me,” she said, “not wishing to father a child again.”

  “He blames himself for the baby’s physical deformity,” Cosette replied. “Marianne was my friend, and I loved her dearly. I knew she favored Lafayette, but I was young and not strong willed enough then to influence her rightly.”

  “You cannot blame yourself.”

  Cosette shook her head. “I do not. Nor do I think her death and the baby’s troubles were his fault. But the people believed it was.” She shuddered. “It was a most awful time, so much suspicion. His anger, his self-hatred … caused much of it. I truly believe if he’d repented …” She released a breath. “But alas, he did not, and I have watched him impale himself, watched the man I admired become a shell. To see how he damaged you grieved my heart.”

  Pigeon withdrew her hand and returned it to her lap. “He thought to substitute a wife for his unhappiness, but I did not follow the pattern he’d planned. He wanted numbness, someone who incited nothing in him, but would go through the motions doing his bidding without complaint. I am not so inclined, and from the start, we have fought, angry words spoken on both sides. I angered him once more the night of the party.”

  “Regardless, he had no right to treat you like that.”

  Pigeon shrugged. “He wanted to assert his mastery, and he later repented of it. All I’ve wanted was his heart, and he showed it to me at last.”

  Cosette smiled. “I could see that when I first looked upon him at the Millfords’ this morning, and I am happy for you both.”

  Pigeon, unable to prevent herself any longer, reached for the food, and they fell silent while she consumed it. She was dusting the crumbs from her lips when Cosette spoke again.

  “He will be a good father.”

  Pigeon folded her hands in her lap. “He will be a good husband when he stops running from what he should be doing.”

  “You will not mind being a minister’s wife?” Cosette asked.

  “I have been a pampered daughter for much of my life and was slated to become a pampered wife. He knows this already. We’ve spoken of it. I’d much rather a man of God than silk skirts and kid gloves.” Although, thinking of that, she found herself wondering what Christmas would be like for her parents, believing she was gone. Her sorrow grew within.

  Stepping out of the telegraph office, Niles met Lafayette’s gaze and crossed the distance between them, his steps brisk. “We should have some sort of answer within the day,” he said. “I told the operator we’d return before we left.”

  Lafayette nodded. Niles had sent out two inquiries, one for a list of passenger names, the second, information on the location of any recovered bodies. He appreciated his brother-in-law’s assistance in the matter, but turned himself then toward the livery.

  It was a fair walk, the air crisp, but the skies sunny. Ribbons tied to the lampposts shivered in the cold, fluttering as they passed.

  Niles cleared his throat. “If you’d rather, I can make myself scarce,” he said. “I was thinking of seeking a gift for Cosette.”

  Lafayette slowed his pace, giving Niles a glance. “A gift is a good idea. I’d like to do the same. That said, there’s no need to hide what you already know. If anything, your presence will help move me forward.”

  Niles offered an acknowledging smile. Then, heads bent, they continued ahead.

  At the livery, a young stable boy pointed them toward where Thomas stood out behind the barn. One foot on a fence rung, he glanced at them and his eyes lit. “Mr. Millford. Reverend Faulkenberg. What a pleasant surprise.” Standing straight, he offered his hand, and both men shook it. “What brings you to town this winter’s day?”

  Lafayette glanced toward the cattle within the fencing. “Fine animals,” he said.

  Thomas nodded. “From Texas originally. Very hearty stock.”

  Lafayette admired the beasts a moment longer, then shifted his gaze. “If we could speak with you somewhere more private.”

  “Of course. We can use the office.”

  Trailing behind him, they reentered the barn and followed the corridor past the line of stalls to the office door. Thomas closed it behind them and waved them each to a seat. He followed suit, settling in the worn wooden chair behind the desk. The springs on it made a distinct creak. “How may I help you today?” he asked.

  Lafayette leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his palms together. “I had hoped my words the other night did not sour you against me.”

  Thomas’s brow furrowed, forming long horizontal lines. “You spoke the Word of God from a sincere heart, and I saw with it that He’s been working in you.”

  Lafayette exhaled, raising one hand to squeeze the back of his neck. He looked down at his boots, for a moment, before looking up again. “My brother-in-law knows all of this already, so do not fear anything I say is new to him.”

  Thomas dipped his chin.

  “I did not behave properly to my wife when we returned home, but allowed the anger within me to take over my mind. It has long burned inside, and I’ve rejected any need to remove it.”

  Niles raised one hand and laid it firm on his back. His touch gave Lafayette great encouragement.

  “Seeing what I did to her, I repented of my ways at last. I … I want to be whole. I want to worship again.”

  “We will help you in any way we can,” Thomas said.

  Lafayette soaked his kindness in, unblinking. “I forsook my ordination because of a sin of the flesh.”

  Thomas’s eyes softened.

  “I fathered a child out of wedlock with a young woman who passed away because of it. The child did not survive either, and I have blamed myself.” When Thomas went to speak, Lafayette held up his hand. “Please. There is no one else to blame. I was hateful, left her to suffer on her own. I refused to acknowledge my actions and, when my life was shattered by it, ran with my sister as far as I could to escape. But …” He paused to inhale. “But as such things do, though the people and the town are far away, the sin followed me, continuing to eat away at the man I was. Cosette found her happiness with Niles, and I am grateful. But I could not face this Christmas alone, so I advertised for a bride.”

  “Advertised?” Thomas asked.

  Lafayette inclined his head. “I asked for a woman of good character but plain appearance, able to cook and clean and sew, and willing to give companionship.” He suppressed a smile. “I see you have recognized the truth. Pigeon is none of those things. She has helped me see myself as never before, and I love her for it. Even now, barely a month after our nuptials, I am a different person than I’ve been.”

  He sat back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his knee, and tented his fingers in front of him, closing his eyes. “The call of God is without repentance,” he said. “But my repentance for my sin has kept me from it.” He opened his eyes and dropped his hands. “You asked if I would consider the pastorate, even simply for Christmas, and to speak honestly, I am terrified of it. But fear alone is not a reason to refuse. If anything, it is a reason to go forward. I could not go forward, though, without telling you what I have done.”

  He fell silent then, able almost to hear his heart beating, and the sounds from outside the office leaked in. Horses whinnying, the thump and rustle of their movements. Voices calling from the streets.

  Thomas laid one arm on the desktop. “The fact you came to me and spoke so openly speaks to your good heart, but as I told you before, I have seen it in your love for your sister and heard it in the words of the Millfords. Trouble besets us all from every side, and sometimes we fall. We give into it. But God is always able to cleanse the heart and will forget even the remembrance of it as far as the east is from the west.”

  Lafayette’s eyes stung, Thomas’s words moving him, and he could not stop the tears from falling.

  “God brought you a bride, Lafayette,” Thomas said, “the person you needed the most to heal your heart. Though she doesn’t fit what you wanted, He knew better, and therefore, it is our duty as Christians to embrace you both. This town needs a pastor, and you need a church. There will have to be a vote, of course, but perhaps we can delay it until after the start of the New Year. I know of not one person who will refuse, however.” He leaned inward. “You have what they need. You know what it’s like to fall and stand again and people need to hear that. They need to know there is forgiveness for anything they face.” He leaned in all the more. “If you are willing, we will tell the town of a Christmas Eve service. There are ten days until then, plenty of time for you to prepare. Yet feel no obligation to anything other than to speak from your heart. If you listen to His words in your ears, then that is all that matters.”

  A Christmas Eve service. Ten days for him to seek God and find meaning in the holiday. Lafayette stood, Niles at his side, and Thomas stood also.

  Rounding the desk, he approached him and drew him into an embrace. “God bless you, my friend.”

  With an accepting nod, Lafayette separated himself, and he and Niles made their way out. They didn’t speak, but spent the next few hours between the grocer and the diner. They then made their way to the church, admiring the empty structure, before returning to the telegraph office to check for news.

  The telegraph operator slid them two responses. Niles perused them, then handed them to Lafayette. Lafayette soaked in the words, pieces of the puzzle fitting into place. Two female passengers had traveled together on the ferry, one from further east, a location he recognized.

  “Send a response to the first,” he said. He indicated it, tapping the paper with his thumb. “Say, ‘WILL RETRIEVE BODY OF P BURGESS WITHIN THE NEXT FEW DAYS STOP L FAULKENBERG.’”

  The telegraph operator scribbled the missive on the edge of a page.

  “And for the other. I need the following sent to Mr. and Mrs. Snyder, Chicago, Illinois. ‘YOUR DAUGHTER LIVES STOP SHE IS MY BELOVED WIFE STOP L FAULKENBERG.”

  It was solemn to hold a funeral so close to Christmas, and her husband, Lafayette, appeared greatly wearied from his travel to retrieve Miss Burgess’s remains. His voice intoning the Scriptures called out strong, however, though only the two of them and Niles and Cosette attended.

  Lafayette had arranged for burial in the far pasture. It was cold, and the ground was hard, making preparations difficult and further tiring him. But, though she was surprised when he told her of his inquiry, she was glad of it. She’d liked the real Pigeon Burgess, and this brought peace.

  Seated around the table afterward, the room quiet, she thought of her parents again. Had they mourned? Were they still mourning? It surprised her how much she missed them. Their decision to marry her to the Baron now seemed far in the past and more well-meant than she’d received it at the time. Maybe if she’d insisted, they would have relented.

  Her papa was such a dear. How he loved Christmas! Her mama always had the cook make his favorite, roasted lamb with soft boiled potatoes and plum cake. She sorrowed further thinking of it.

  “You are both coming on Christmas Day, are you not?” Cosette asked, breaking into her thoughts. “Mrs. Millford has asked for meringues, and we are to have goose.”

  “Sounds divine,” Pigeon said. “We would not miss it for the world.”

  “You are prepared for the Christmas Eve service, brother?” Cosette changed her attention.

  Lafayette blinked as if awakening from a dream. “I will be prepared by the time we arrive.”

  Although, over the next few days, Pigeon was hard-pressed to believe him. He stayed up late, often into the wee hours, pouring over his notes. He’d come to bed to rise once more, only a short time later. The day before the service, she found him seated on the stoop wrapped in a quilt, yet shivering. “Husband, come indoors, let me warm you.”

  He was eager for that, had become a proficient lover since forgiving himself. He curled against her when they were done, his cheek laid hard against her naval.

  “Do you try to predict a child?” she asked.

  “Mmm.” He made a low-volume groan. “I predict it, but am not afraid now.”

  Her hand on his head, she turned his face upward toward hers.

  “Nothing that comes from you can be anything but perfect,” he continued.

  Her heart warmed with his words.

  “I even predict the child to come out singing.”

  Pigeon laughed. “You are being silly now. The notes it will sing will be upset ones, but I will be happy because with those I know it will have its father’s temperament.”

  They shared laughter, then he rose over her, gazing downward, and she could not speak more for the love shining in his eyes.

  “You are the finest gift,” he said. “You brought me back to grace.”

  “Grace was there all along. You simply chose not to acknowledge it.”

  His expression changed yet again. He stared at her unblinking, then crawled from bed and left the room. He returned with a small card in his grasp. He sat, angled to her, one leg off the bed, the other folded beneath him. “I have yet one more thing to confess and fear your abuse of me this time.”

  “I? Abuse you?” she asked.

  He stared at the card then, with a sigh, handed it to her.

 

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