Family Stories

“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.