A Love Most Worthy Page 9

  Trust. A soft, wry laugh echoed in the quiet of the morning. He’d placed his trust in a friend, who’d up and married his intended. What had Frank been thinking to betray him like that?

  Rance lumbered to the stove and prepared a pot of coffee—a whole pot. Discovering his friend’s treachery on the heels of Hallie’s masquerade had stoked embers of fury with both of them.

  All night he had tossed and turned, praying for guidance while justifying his actions against Hallie. The conversation ended in a stalemate of opposing opinions between himself and God.

  He glanced at the door as the wind rattled it. Maybe he should go after her. Until her ship sailed, they could reside separately in the same house, as they had done for almost three months.

  “How come you’re making the coffee, Uncle Rance? Where’s Aunt Hallie?”

  Rance wouldn’t lie to the boys. He knelt in front of Robbie. “She’s going home to Seattle, son.”

  “But her home is here.” Robbie’s little brow furrowed. “When will she be back?”

  How much should he say? “She won’t be back.”

  Robbie stared at the door. “Why not?”

  “She just won’t.” Rance stood and poured a cup of coffee. The hot liquid burned the tongue he hadn’t guarded last night. He tried to add a little cheer to his voice. “Get dressed. You and your brother will go with me to the store today.”

  “I heard her crying.” The boy turned an accusing scowl on Rance. “You made her cry again, didn’t you? That’s why she isn’t coming back.”

  He’d had no idea his nephew was awake to hear Hallie’s sobs.

  “It’s all your fault we don’t have a mother!” Before Rance could close his gaping mouth, the boy rushed into the bedroom and slammed the door.

  Rance’s arm reared back, and he hurled the cup against the front wall. It shattered, coated the wood with coffee, and left a puddle on the floor. He hardly felt the heat and burn on his hand through the anguish of realizing, after a year of controlling his impulses, he hadn’t changed at all.

  Poor judgment. Always his poor judgment.

  FOR THE THIRD DAY IN a row, Rance led the boys past the post office. This time, he stopped to stare at the building. Hallie had claimed she’d written him a letter, one he never received from her. What if she’d told him the truth? He’d been too angry the other night to even consider the possibility.

  She had seen the best in him, yet he’d pronounced her guilty before assuming her innocent.

  Earlier this summer, the influx of mail to the miners had overwhelmed the postal clerks. Until the establishment of a free delivery system to businesses a few weeks ago, long lines had made retrieving the mail every day a waste of time. What if the letter waited inside, lost in some cubby hole?

  Davie tugged on his hand. “Let’s go, Uncle Rance.”

  His nephews rarely talked to him these days, so he obeyed Davie’s command without hesitation.

  Hours later, the wind whistled outside as Rance paced the storeroom. The weather had turned worse than a spring storm in Georgia.

  Davie rolled marbles across the floor, while Robbie sat in the chair at Rance’s desk and struggled to decipher the words in A Child’s Garden of Verses, the book Hallie had used to teach him to read. Maybe he’d send Robbie to the new school established for the children of Nome. It would give the boy something more to think about than missing his aunt.

  For the boys’ sakes, he’d considered returning to Georgia. But could he face his family after failing Robbie and Davie a second time?

  The walls groaned with the gales that had blown for days. Where was Hallie now? Had she found safe housing in this weather?

  He hoped the Zellers had taken shelter on the rise near the beach with many of the other miners. The couple probably wanted to string him up, but he wished to see them again...if for no other reason than to ease his conscience over Hallie’s safety.

  Rance left Robbie and Davie in the back room and walked out front. “Mr. Taylor, it doesn’t look as though the weather will improve. I reckon we ought to close for today.”

  His right-hand man looked up from recording figures in a ledger and nodded. “Sure thing, Mr. Preston.”

  “I have something to do before going home. Will your mother watch the boys while I’m gone?” None of Rance’s employees questioned why Robbie and Davie were staying at the store—not to his face anyway. The children might have mentioned something to them, but Rance had chosen not to bring it up. The fewer people aware of his personal business, the better.

  “I’ll take them with me.” Taylor shut the book and slid it inside the safe under the counter.

  “I may be gone a while.”

  “You know Mother will be happy to keep them as long as necessary.”

  Mrs. Taylor was one of the kindest women Rance had met in Nome. He would miss both mother and son when they left for California.

  Whether Rance decided to remain in Nome or return to Georgia, he needed to find a new store manager. The more he considered it, one name continued to come to mind as the right person to ask. First, he must run another errand.

  After grabbing his coat and cap, he stepped outside and fought the crisp gust that tried to blow him sideways. It was still light outside, but the September days were getting shorter with the sun setting several hours earlier than when Hallie arrived in June.

  He entered the post office to find several men at work, sorting through envelopes awaiting delivery or pick up. What would he do if finding Hallie’s letter proved her story? He’d said hurtful things to her. How could he ever hope to restore their fledgling relationship? Why would she want to?

  He approached the nearest clerk. “I’m looking for a letter. It would have arrived from Seattle sometime in late May or early June. The sender was a Miss Russell.”

  The clerk’s lips puckered, and he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sure everything that arrived in June has been sorted and delivered, Mr. Preston. I doubt it’s here.”

  “You doubt it is, but are you certain?”

  “Pretty certain, sir.”

  “Thank you.” Rance’s upper body turned, but his feet froze in place. Three days ago, he was convinced Hallie was a woman of upright character—animated, energetic, and overflowing with love for others. Had he been wrong?

  He’d failed miserably in discerning Colleen’s character. Do I dare trust my judgment when it comes to Hallie, Lord?

  Without a clear answer, he faced the clerk once more. “It’s important. Please do your best to look for it.”

  “We’ll do what we can.”

  “That’s all I ask.”

  It took Rance almost an hour to find Bill Zeller standing in front of a tent with its canvas flapping. The man grimaced at seeing him. “I wouldn’t have expected you to show up here.”

  “I’d like to talk to you.” Rance looked around. Anything light of weight and not tied down blew across the beach. “Where is Sybil?”

  To be heard, they both had to raise their voices over the wind that tore at the canvas.

  “Yesterday, I sent her to stay with Hallie. With the storms kicking up, it’ll be safer, and your wife could use the company.”

  His wife. The wife he’d sent out into a storm. “I’m glad.”

  Bill gestured to the interior of the tent. “Might as well get comfortable. It’s windy enough out here to blow the spots off a leopard.”

  Rance stared at the fierce waves eroding the beach and washing driftwood and sand farther ashore. How high would the water rise with the tide? “You ought to go into town with your wife. It isn’t safe here for you either.”

  “I’ll be done packing shortly. With the rough conditions, most of the ships have headed out to sea, so we aren’t sailing any time soon, but I won’t leave everything to be stolen.”

  “I’ll help you pack.”

  Bill crossed his arms. “Not until I know what you want.”

  Rance exhaled a hard breath. This man was close to his own ag
e, but at this moment, he struck Rance as much older, wiser. “I suppose Hallie told you what happened.”

  “You’ve come to tell your side?”

  “No. I came to make certain she was well and...safe.”

  Surprise flashed in the man’s eyes. He pointed to a pair of straight, wooden chairs, and both men sat. The lack of smoke and the chill inside the tent told Rance nothing was burning in the stove.

  Bill lit a pipe and extinguished the match, tossing it through the open tent flaps to land on the damp sand. He blew out a puff of smoke. “About all Hallie said—to me, at least—was that she was returning to Seattle as soon as the next boat leaves.”

  “Because I insisted.”

  Bill shook his head. “I understand things don’t always work out between a man and his wife, but that woman loves you and, from what I saw the other night, I’d say you return that love.”

  “As you said, sometimes things don’t work out.” Rance peered outside the tent. For the first time since the recent storms began, he worried over the safety of the young town at the edge of the Bering Sea. “We’d better finish getting your things together.”

  Bill hesitated, then bobbed his head. As the two of them worked, others also disassembled whatever equipment could be transported. They tied down tents and secured as many possessions as possible. Lumber, crates, materials, and supplies floated in the surf and washed up on the beach. Many ships’ captains had set sail days ago to avoid catastrophe and protect their crews from watery graves.

  Rance and Bill fought against violent wind gusts and encroaching water to pack the rest of the couple’s belongings. Their clothes were drenched and Rance’s hat had blown away. The damp chill had seeped into his bones and his arms ached after pulling a sled that skimmed across the sand but bogged down in the muddy streets.

  As they hauled the couple’s possessions into town for a second time, Bill panted with the effort of pushing the sled from behind. “I should have rented a wagon and team and been done with it, but I figured we’d need all our money for starting over.”

  Though only knowing him a short time, Bill Zeller’s hard labor and meticulousness inspired Rance’s confidence in the man’s work ethic. “The other night I got the impression y’all wanted to stay in Nome.”

  Bill shrugged.

  “Hallie said you know how to run a mercantile.”

  “True.”

  “My manager is leaving soon. I want to offer you a job at Preston and Sons.”

  The man halted in the middle of the street, his form like a shadow in the dusk. “Why would you do that? You don’t know me.”

  “I’ve watched you as we’ve worked, Bill. It’s been more enlightening than my typical interview. You wrote an inventory of your possessions, packed everything with care, and loaded the sled in an orderly and precise manner so there’s no breakage. I already know you have a pleasant disposition, and giving Hallie that gold nugget proved your generosity and fairness.” Rance held out his hand. “I believe you’ll be an asset to the store.”

  “You sure you don’t want to think about it? Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

  In the same way Rance had changed his mind about Hallie? He figured he deserved the man’s doubt.

  It occurred to Rance that he was willing to trust Bill after a few brief meetings, but not Hallie after living with her for months. Was he being illogical in offering Zeller the job, or unreasonable in his treatment of his wife?

  He shoved his hand closer. “I’m sure.”

  After they shook, Bill said, “Sybil has no fondness for you at the moment, but if she accepts the idea, I’m willing to discuss it.”

  “Understood.”

  Around them canvas flapped and tore. They dodged debris and balked at the sounds of boards creaking and cracking as they traveled along the sand spit.

  Rance looked toward the Snake River, where they had already seen flooding and more damage than he cared to witness. He shouted over the wind, “It might be a good idea to wait to accept my offer until after the storm lets up. At this rate, I’m not sure what’ll be left of the store.”

  They reached the hotel, where Hallie had rented a room. The owners had given the Zellers permission to store their things in a shed out back. Rance hadn’t seen Hallie the first time they brought a load. As it did then, his stomach twisted at the thought she might join them. What would he say to her?

  As they unloaded the sled, Sybil brought them hot coffee and sandwiches. He almost asked her about Hallie, but one look at the woman’s face convinced him to leave well enough alone. The tone of her voice was as cold as the air around them as she said, “Hallie is worried about Robbie and Davie.”

  But not Rance.

  Earlier, he had taken the time to check on the boys. Mrs. Taylor had insisted she keep them overnight. Since they were content, he had agreed, thankful they were safe inside a solidly-built home nowhere near the beach. “Please tell Hallie they’re fine and staying with friends tonight.”

  Sybil nodded and disappeared inside the house.

  Rance gazed at the windows on the second floor. This storm offered him a chance to restore his marriage, should he decide to take it. His heart sank in the muck of turmoil. Why couldn’t he trust Hallie’s word?

  With the sun setting, the wind had kicked up to near hurricane level. Raindrops pelted the men’s bodies like tiny stones. Rance shouted to Bill, “I’d better head to the store and make sure there isn’t any damage. I don’t like the way those waves are pounding the shore. The seawater is creeping closer and closer toward my business.”

  Bill looked up at the second floor of the house, then said, “I’ll come with you.”

  “Your wife needs you.”

  “As Hallie and the boys need you.” The man swiped at the water running down his face. “I’m going with you.”

  “Bill—”

  “We’re wasting time.” The man grinned. “Besides, I’ve got a stake in seeing that nothing happens to the store.”

  Rance looked up at the second floor again. The figure of a woman appeared at one of the windows and brushed the curtain aside. With the rain on the glass, her face was distorted, but he would recognize Hallie anywhere.

  Before he could reason it through, he stepped toward the hotel door, still conflicted about what to say, but with a desire to see for himself that she was all right. She dropped the curtain with the finality of slamming the door in his face.

  With his disappointment raging like the storm, Rance hunched into his coat and walked away.

  HALLIE PACED FROM ONE end of her room to the other. Sheets of rain pounded the roof, and the wind seethed and whistled through the walls with a force unlike any in the past weeks.

  “It’s been over an hour since they brought our things.” Sybil held her hand against her stomach, a gesture Hallie had noticed repeatedly during the past couple of days. “Where do you think they went?”

  “I’m sure they’re fine.” In fact, Hallie wasn’t sure of any such thing. It had taken every ounce of strength and stubbornness she possessed to keep from trotting down the stairs and outside to find her husband, to assure herself he was safe. In spite of being spurned by him, she missed him. She missed Robbie and Davie.

  Something hard whacked the side of the house, and both women jumped. It sounded like wood hitting wood. Maybe a sign that had blown from its anchorage.

  Rance had told Sybil the boys were safe, but what about him? What if he were lying in the street injured by wind-borne debris of the type that hit the house? What if he needed help?

  Hallie peered out the window again. People dashed about in the weather, but she recognized none of them through the rain. She couldn’t decide which frightened her more, the physical storm lashing the outside or the emotional one raging inside. Maybe she should have gone downstairs to see for herself how Rance was doing. But her husband didn’t miss her. He’d never entered the house while helping Bill and hadn’t asked Sybil about her wellbeing.

  Worthle
ss. As far as he was concerned, she held no value.

  A couple ran up the street toward the hotel. The front door opened with a bang, as if the wind had burst inside to say hello. Sybil and Hallie rushed downstairs to learn whatever information the newcomers had to share. They entered the front hall as a breathless man said, “...so many homes blown away on the sand spit. River Street is flooded and the water is washing through some of the businesses on Front Street.”

  “Front Street?” Hallie stepped closer. “What about Preston and Sons?”

  He turned to her. “Can’t say for sure, ma’am.”

  Rance couldn’t lose the store. It was the boys’ inheritance.

  Without stopping to let reason prevail, Hallie ran upstairs and snatched her coat. A minute later, she opened the front door and fought to keep it from slipping from her grasp.

  Sybil grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”

  “To check the store.”

  “Don’t be silly. Even if you manage to get there without being bashed on the head by who-knows-what’s flying around out there, what do you think you can do if it’s flooded?”

  Hallie only knew she couldn’t stand around doing nothing any longer. “Maybe I can save some of the stock.”

  “Wait for me to get my coat.”

  “No. Bill would want you to stay here.”

  “And Rance would want you here with me.”

  If only, but... “I won’t be gone long.”

  Sybil rested her palm against her midsection. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come too?”

  The truth washed through Hallie with a wave of joy for her friend and a ripple of sadness for herself. “You should think of that little Zeller.”

  Sybil’s eyes grew as round as her belly would grow soon. “How did you know?”

  Hallie laughed and rubbed her stomach. “You’ve been awfully protective. Does Bill know?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You’ll tell him when he returns?”

  “First thing.”

  “Good.”

  Hallie stepped into the driving rain.