Tracie Peterson (34 page)

“My father is a tailor, as you know. We make suits and shirts, just about anything a man could possibly need for dressing.”

“And they do it very well,” Pierce added. “I have never owned such fine clothes.”

“And you work with your father? Did you help with my brother’s suit?” Constance asked, completely fascinated by this.

Darlene eyed the rich-green frock coat and nodded. Pierce’s gaze met hers and his lips curled automatically into a smile. “I didn’t know that,” he said, running his hand down the sleeve of his coat. “It only makes it all the more special.”

Darlene felt her face grow hot. It made it special to her as well. She could remember running her hand down the fabric and wondering what Pierce would look like when it was completed. She had sewed the buttons onto the front with a strange sort of reverence, imagining as she worked how Pierce’s fingers might touch them later.

“How wonderful to do something so unique!” Constance declared.

“It is hardly unique to do a servant’s labor,” Eugenia finally said. With these words came a silence in the carriage and a sinking in Darlene’s heart.

Dennison frowned and Eugenia, seeming to sense that her opinion would meet with his disapproval, fell silent again. The damage was done, however. Darlene grew sullen and quiet, while Pierce looked away as if disgusted by the reminder of her station in life. There would never be a bridge between their worlds and the sooner Darlene accepted that, the happier she would be. But even forcing thoughts of Pierce from her mind did nothing to dispel the stirring memory of the minister’s words that morning. Nor would it displace the image of her father going forward into acceptance of Jesus as Messiah. There was no going back now. There would be no chance of changing her father’s mind about Christianity. But what worried Darlene more was that she wasn’t sure she still wanted to change his mind.

But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy.
J
AMES
3:17

P
ierce listened with bored indifference to Amanda Ralston’s description of the new art museum her father had arranged to be built. The truth of the matter was, he was bored with the entire party. Amanda’s party. Amanda and all her shallow, haughty friends.

The only reason he’d even come was that Eugenia had insisted on the matter until there was simply no peace in the house and even his father had asked him to do it as a favor to him. So it was because of this, Pierce found himself the center of Amanda’s possessive attention.

“Darling, you haven’t had any champagne,” Amanda said with a coy batting of her eyes.

“I don’t drink champagne and you know that full well.” He tried not to frown at her. No sense having anyone believe them to be fighting.

Amanda pouted. “But then how shall we toast our evening?”

Pierce looked at her and shrugged. “I have nothing to toast, my dear. Why don’t you go find someone who does?”

Amanda refused to be dealt with so harshly. “I had this gown made especially with you in mind. Don’t you think it’s lovely?” She held up her glass and whirled in a circle. The heavy gold brocade rippled in movement.

“It looks very warm,” he said noncommittally. “I’m certain it will ward off the autumn chill.”

Amanda was clearly losing patience with him. “Pierce, this gown cost over sixty dollars. The least you could do is lie about it, even if you don’t like it.”

“I see no reason to lie about it, and the gown is quite perfect for you. Sixty dollars seems a bit much. I know a great tailor, if your seamstress insists on robbing you.”

“Oh, bother with you,” she said, stomping her foot. “You are simply no fun at all.”

“I didn’t come here to have fun. I came because you and my aunt decided it should be so. There would have been no rest in my house if I’d refused.”

“But Pierce,” she said in a low seductive whisper, “didn’t you want to see me? Don’t you enjoy keeping company with me?”

Pierce looked at her in hard indifference. “I’d rather be mucking out stables.”

“That’s hideous!” She raised her arm as if to slap him, then thought better of it and stormed off. Pierce saw her exchange her half-empty glass for a full one before moving out of the room.

The rest of the evening passed in bits of conversation with one group and then another. Pierce, finally relieved of Amanda’s annoying presence, found a moment in which to discuss westward expansion with several other men.

“It seems to me that we must settle this nation of ours or lose it,” a broad-shouldered man with red hair was saying. “There’s plenty who would take it from us. I say we move off the Indians and pay people to settle out west. Give them the land for free, although not too much land. Just enough to spark an interest.”

“How would you move them all there?” asked an elderly gentleman. “There’s not a decent road in this country. Even the civilized towns suffer for want of better roadways.”

“True enough,” said Pierce. “Perhaps the government could develop it. There’s surely enough money in the U.S. coffers to plow a few roads.”

The redheaded man nodded. “Even so, it would take months, years, to make decent roads. We need people in the West now!”

His enthusiasm gave fuel to the spark already within Pierce’s heart. “I’ve allowed myself some investments in Chicago. I’ve given strong thought to the possibilities of life there.” This caused his companions to stare open-mouthed at him.

“You don’t mean to include yourself in such a thing?” the older man questioned.

“Why certainly, I do.” Pierce couldn’t figure out why they should so adamantly declare the need for people in the West, yet find it unreasonable that he would consider such a thing.

“No, no. That would never do. You would have to deal with all manner of corruption and lowlife.”

Pierce eyed the old man with a raised brow. “And I don’t have to here? New York City is worse than ten western cities put together. Greed runs so rampant in this town that a man would sell his own soul if it promised a high enough return.”

The redheaded man laughed at this. “Well, buying your soul out of hock seems a great deal easier than uprooting yourself and leaving the comforts of home behind. Monetary investments are one thing. Flesh and blood is quite another.”

Pierce smiled. “I couldn’t agree with you more. It is exactly for those reasons that I consider the possibilities of such a move.”

It was then that Amanda chose to reappear. “What move are you talking about, darling?” She placed her hand possessively on Pierce’s arm.

“It seems your friend would like to move out amongst the savages.” The older man chuckled while the redheaded man continued. “I can just picture you at his side, Amanda dear. Dirt floors dusting the hems of your expensive gowns, six children grabbing at your skirts.”

Amanda’s laughter filled the air. “Oh, certainly Mr. Blackwell is making sport of the subject. He has too much here in the city to ever go too far. Isn’t that true, darling?”

Pierce shook his head. “No, actually I’m quite seriously considering the move. Perhaps when spring comes and the weather allows for long-distance travel, I will resettle myself in Chicago.”

“You can’t be serious, Pierce.” Her facade of genteel refinement vanished.

“I’ve only been telling you of my interest for months now.”

Amanda waited until the other gentlemen had considerately moved away. She pulled Pierce along with her to a balcony off the main room and turned, prepared for a fight.

“Pierce, this is ridiculous. Your aunt assures me that it is your father’s wish you marry and produce heirs. Now, while I have no desire to find myself in such a confining predicament, I would see fit to participate at least once in such a matter.”

Pierce laughed. “Are you talking about giving life to a child, or suffering through a party for fewer than sixteen people?”

“This is a matter of grave importance; I won’t stand your insults.”

“Indeed it is a matter of grave importance.” Pierce almost felt sorry for the young woman. She was clearly in a rage of her own creation. Her face was flushed and her eyes blazed with a fire all their own. She would have been pretty had she not been so conniving and self-centered. “Please hear me, Amanda. I have no desire to marry you. Not now. Not ever. I am not in love with you, which is the most important thing I believe a marriage should have. Without a mutual love and respect for each other, marriage would be nothing more than a sham of convenience. That kind of thing is not for me.”

Amanda seemed to calm a bit. “Marriage is more than emotional entanglements, Pierce, and you know it as well as you know your bank account. To marry my fortune to yours would ensure our future. It would set forever our place in society. Imagine the possibilities, Pierce.”

“I have, and they do not appeal to me.”

“You aren’t that stupid,” she said, the caustic tone returning. “You are too smart to throw away your future. You’ve worked hard to set it into place.”

“You are exactly right,” Pierce replied.

She smiled with a seductiveness that ordinarily would have been charming. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Oh, but I don’t. I merely said you were right about my being too smart to throw away my future. I’m not about to sit around in houses that look fit only to be mausoleums, stuck in the middle of a city that’s driven by greed and avarice and married to a woman who concerns herself only with parties and the value of her possessions.” He turned to leave, but Amanda reached out to hold him.

“If you leave, I’ll see you ruined!”

“Do what you will, Amanda, but do it without me.”

He strode from the room without so much as a backward glance. He heard the sounds of the party behind him, the tinkling of glass, the faint strains of the stringed quartet, the laughter of shallow-minded associations. It was all a facade. There was absolutely nothing real or of value here for him.

He hailed a hack and gave the driver his address. Chicago loomed in his mind like an unattainable prize. Somehow, he would make his way west. Somehow, he would leave New York behind.

Darlene. The name came unbidden to his mind. Could he leave her as well? Could he walk away from a woman he was now certain he loved? He couldn’t suggest marriage, not with their religious differences. He couldn’t take her away from her father, and even if he suggested Abraham accompany them west, Pierce didn’t know if the old man was well enough to do so.

Chicago would mean leaving Darlene. Chicago would mean throwing off every matter of security ever known to him and going into the unknown alone. Could he do it? Could he leave the comforts of life as he knew it, and forge into the wilds of Illinois?

The hack pulled up to the red brick house and stopped. After paying the driver, Pierce made his way inside and found the house quiet. Grateful for this blessing, he made his way to the library. Tossing his frock and waist coat aside, Pierce undid his cravat and eased into a plush leather chair. On the small table beside him, a copy of the newspaper caught his eye.

Picking it up, he scanned the pages for anything of interest. “Irish Riots on the Wabash and Erie Canal,” titled one article. Another announced the cause of some shipping disaster. He looked for something related to Chicago or travel west and found only one tiny article related to the suggested building of a railroad from New York State to the rapidly growing towns of Cincinnati and Chicago. It was such a small article and told with such a negative slant that Pierce was certain no one would paid it much mind.

He folded the paper, tossed it aside, and stretched out his long legs.
Dear God,
he began to pray,
what is it that I should do? I have no peace here. No happiness within my soul. I am as out of place as a fish taken from water. Society bids me be greedy when I would be generous, and tells me to have nothing to do with those who are beneath my status, when I would take all mankind to my heart.
He sighed.
Oh, God, please show me the way. Give me peace about the direction I should take. Give me a clear path to follow. Amen.

“Whatever are you doing in here?” Eugenia questioned from the door. “I heard a carriage and couldn’t imagine what you were doing home so early.”

“I left because the party was not to my liking,” he answered simply.

Eugenia frowned. “But what of Amanda? Surely she compensated you where the party was lacking.”

“She was the one lacking the most,” Pierce replied.

Eugenia looked behind her before entering the room and closing the door. “Pierce, you and I need to talk.”

“We’ve talked aplenty as far as I’m concerned. Just leave it be.” Exhaustion registered in his voice.

“I don’t wish to cause you further grief, but you must understand,” Eugenia began, “it is very important to your father that you settle down and marry. Amanda Ralston is everything you could ever hope to find in a wife. She’ll be congenial. She’ll run your home efficiently and she’ll never interfere in your business. She’s been groomed for just such a job since she was old enough to walk. Amanda knows her place and she’ll benefit you in many ways.”

“But I don’t love her. I could never love her.”

Eugenia grimaced. “Who could you love? That little Jew?”

Pierce narrowed his eyes. “Don’t think to bring Darlene into this matter.”

“Why shouldn’t I? She clearly is a part of this matter. You fancy yourself in love with her, and I say forget it. She is not of your kind.”

“And which kind would that be? The greedy kind? The selfish kind? Oh, wait, I know, maybe it’s the kind who look down on others because they are different.” Pierce got to his feet. “I’m glad she’s not of those kind. But what you tend to forget because you’re so mired in it yourself, is that I’m not of that kind either!”

“You are better than she is!” Eugenia said, blocking his escape by throwing herself between him and the door.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not. I’m not better than Darlene. I’m different in some ways, I’ll give you that much. But I am not better. The Bible says that we should love one another, even as God loves us. Do you suppose God loves Darlene less because she’s of Hebrew lineage? Jesus, Himself, is of such lineage! What if God loved me less because I’m not?”