A Family Found

“Congratulations,” she murmured, bent over her meal. Then she looked up. “It’s the land of opportunity. That’s what I’m seeking.”

He couldn’t imagine Estes Park would offer her that. “What kind of opportunity?” he asked merely to keep the conversation alive.

He wasn’t prepared for her candor. “The opportunity to find myself. To learn who I am all by myself. To discover what I’m meant to do now.”

In the now he heard a mournfulness that caught him off guard. Maybe she wasn’t quite the flibbertigibbet he’d judged at first. Her last word suggested a history. A burdensome one. His question had led them far beyond dinner-party conventions. “It’s a good place to do that,” he finally said.

Effie came to the rescue. “I would like to pack up some of the remaining food for your journey.”

“That would be welcome,” Tate said.

“When should I be ready in the morning?”

“I will be here at six. Have your horse packed and saddled, and we’ll be off soon after to go to the livery to pick up the wagons loaded with our supplies and summer provisions. Prepare yourself, Miss Montgomery. It is a long, uncomfortable trip.”

She lifted her head in a way that suggested defiance. “I can handle it, sir.”

From that point on, Effie dominated the conversation with tales of the military wives she’d met, some suited to the life and others woefully unprepared.

When Tate rose to leave later in the evening, the others followed him out onto the front porch. A breeze cooled the air. Overhead a canopy of stars twinkled in the ether. “Come back soon, son. Bring the boys,” the major said, patting him on the back.

“The boys?” Sophie asked.

“Tate has two young sons. Charming little fellows,” Effie explained.

“I should like to meet them.” Sophie approached him and held out her hand. “Good night, Mr. Lockwood. Until tomorrow.”

He stood there, momentarily stunned into silence. She only came up to his shoulder, but her eyes held his in an unflinching gaze. Her hand was warm. He pulled away, hoping his abruptness wasn’t discourteous. “Until tomorrow,” he echoed, then thanked the Hurlburts and went to the barn to mount his horse, all the while thinking, Never was there an unlikelier mountain adventurer.

* * *

Sophie turned to reenter the house, momentarily flustered by Mr. Tate Lockwood, whose tall, muscular body had towered over hers and whose dark brown eyes seemed to drink her in. Yet acerbic was the only word that came to mind to describe his personality. Although he hadn’t come right out and said it, it was obvious he thought her upcoming stay in the mountains was the height of folly. It was as if he deliberately withheld his superior knowledge of the place, hoping she would learn the hard way the arrogance of her expectations. Well, she’d show him—and all the other doubters.

“Did you enjoy Mr. Lockwood?” Effie hovered at her elbow.

“I’m not sure enjoy is the best word.”

“What is, do you think?”

“He was interesting maybe, or...” Sophie floundered.

“A bit brittle perhaps?”

“Certainly self-contained.” Sophie frowned. “He doesn’t want to take me.”

Effie sighed. “I suppose not. But he’s right, dear, it’s a harsh environment.”

“I think that may be exactly what I need.”

Behind them Robert locked the door. “I’m off to read, ladies. Good night. Sophie, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Effie put an arm around her shoulders. “Would you have time for another cup of tea?”

“I would welcome one.”

In the kitchen, Effie bustled with the kettle, her back turned to where Sophie sat at the table. “The past still weighs you down, then?”

“I doubt it shall ever leave me, but I am determined to quit living in the limbo of my regrets.”

“Is Estes Park the answer?” Effie set the cups down and took a seat.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but I truly think it may be. I need a new place. One where my lungs fill with fresh air and my eyes are dazzled...”

“Are you running away or running toward, I wonder.”

Sophie watched the steam rise from her tea. Outside a dog barked. “In truth, a bit of both.” She took a warming sip. “I love my family, but I couldn’t stay in Cottonwood Falls, as much as the Flint Hills are my heart’s home. To watch Caleb and Lily together, so happy and fulfilled by little Mattie and Harmony. To live in the same house with Rose and Seth, the dearest souls on earth, and envy their luck with Alf and little Andy was stifling. All the time knowing what I’d had and lost, never to regain. I caught myself becoming resentful, self-pitying and, worse, angry with God.”

“I’m so sorry, dear.”

“Then whenever I saw that beautiful new courthouse, where every single stone had passed through my Charlie’s hands, I...I...” She swiped at her eyes, then laughed derisively. “Well, you see, then. Something had to change. I have to change.” Clearing her throat, she went on. “I’ve always enjoyed reading travel articles and books, and descriptions of the Rocky Mountains captivated me. Then one day, sitting in church, I heard these words as if for the first time, ‘I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.’ And I knew. I had to come here. Thanks to dear Caleb, I have been led to you and the major and your loving hospitality.”

Effie cupped her drink in both hands. “I know some of your story from Caleb, but you’ve never spoken of your Charlie.”

Sophie wondered if she was able to bare her soul. After a moment of thought it became clear to her that doing so was an essential part of this journey upon which she was embarking.

She fortified herself with a gulp of tea before beginning. “My Charlie. He was mine. I was his. He came out of the blue, as if God-sent. Who would suppose a master stonemason from New England would come to tiny Cottonwood Falls? It defies belief. Yet there he was, supervising the building of our new courthouse. I had always heard about Yankee reserve, but Charlie was outgoing and fun and had never met a stranger. He was steady and had a deep side to him, a sensitive side, you might say. Although I tried at first to hide it, it was love at first sight. For both of us, I think.” She managed a sad smile. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy courting under the eyes of two brothers, a father and a host of workmen. Buggy rides, picnics by the river... Oh, Effie, what good times we had.” She paused, remembering Charlie’s piercing black eyes, his ruddy complexion, his tender kisses.

“Go on,” said Effie kindly.

“One of the best days of my life was the Courthouse Ball celebrating the completion of the building. It is a splendid structure, the limestone quarried locally, with beautiful woodwork and a clock tower—far more elegant than you would expect in our little town. At the ball, my Charlie stepped onto the platform and told the world that I had agreed to marry him. He looked so handsome, so proud...” How could she tell the next part—the part that had gutted her?

“I’ll understand if you prefer not to go on, dear.” Effie’s eyes were filled with compassion.

“No. I’ve started. It’s important for me to finish.” Sophie shoved her cup to the center of the table, squared her shoulders and continued. “We were to be married after Charlie finished a job at one of the colleges some miles away. During that time, we were able to see each other occasionally. It was fun planning a wedding and talking about our future. Then shortly before the wedding, he received an attractive offer to go to Chicago and oversee a huge project. I could have gone with him. However, fearing he would have little time to devote to me there, we decided to postpone the wedding, save some money and then settle permanently someplace.” She shook her head. “So that’s what we did.”

“But...?”

Caleb had undoubtedly told the Hurlburts about her past. She could stop now. It would be all right. To do so, though, would diminish the power of the love they’d shared. “It was the autumn of 1875. I was gathering pumpkins under a bright October sky. The Flint Hills spread out before me like a giant jigsaw puzzle. In the distance I could see Charlie’s clock tower. Lost in my memories of him, I looked up and saw a sudden cloud obscuring the sun. A cold blast swept over me, and I shivered. Later, I remembered that moment, remembered that hint of premonition.” Swallowing, she forced herself to finish. “Two days later the telegram came. My Charlie... A scaffold high on the building had broken. My beloved plunged to his death.”

Effie gasped in sympathy. “Oh, my poor dear. How devastated you must have been.”

“Still am,” she whispered. “I loved him so.” A long minute passed. “So you see why I had to leave the one place where I saw my Charlie at every turn, where I encountered the richly deserved happiness of those I love, a happiness of which I am deprived. I was making myself sick brooding about what might have been. That’s why I’m going to the mountains, Effie.” She paused momentarily, remembering the Devanes’ gift of the money Charlie had saved to set up housekeeping—money that was funding her stay in Colorado. “There I hope to find myself and make peace with the God who claimed my love too soon.”

Effie gripped Sophie’s hands in hers. “Sophie, child, you are doing what you must. I will be praying in the days ahead that you find the solace you seek and the peace God has in store for you. Indeed. Lift your eyes to the hills. Your help will come from the Lord.”

“Thank you.”

Effie rose. “And now, off to bed with you or you’ll fall asleep on your horse tomorrow.”