Love by Design Page 10
Hunter laughed. “Not many would take on that challenge.”
“I can see why,” Dan observed. “In addition to having more bristles than a porcupine, she apparently has uncanny hearing.”
“Could be, but sometimes the tough ones bring the best reward.”
Dan eyed Hunter. “Are you speaking from experience?”
“Absolutely.”
* * *
Jen hadn’t been invited. That much was obvious. No invitation had arrived in the post, and Jack had suggested Wagner invite her. Naturally, he hadn’t.
That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did. She detested formal affairs, which oozed with unwritten rules of behavior. Jen’s sister Beatrice knew them inside and out. She didn’t. The last dance Jen had attended had taken place almost two years ago when she and Minnie tried to get Ruth and Sam together. She had not danced. As soon as her mission was complete, she’d left.
Then why did she care about some highfalutin, overrated ball? As Jack said, they’d only been invited to talk to potential subscribers. Dan said he didn’t dance. He had no reason to bring a guest, yet the thought of another woman on his arm agitated her in the worst way.
When she first arrived home, no one was downstairs. Minnie was probably seeing Peter, but Mother had been watching the baby while Ruth and Sam manned the dress shop. She must be upstairs. Jen climbed the stairs and noticed Ruth’s bedroom door was closed. Muted voices drifted out. Jen could pick out Ruth and Sam talking.
“Are you certain?” That was Mother, and she sounded upset.
“It’s the right decision,” Ruth said.
Then baby Sammy started crying, and Jen scooted back downstairs. What decision? What was going on? Whatever it was, Mother wasn’t pleased.
That observation was confirmed when Mother descended. Her eyes looked puffy.
Jen lowered the newspaper. “Is everything all right?”
“Of course.” She joined Jen at the kitchen table. “Your sister tells me she’s making a gown for you for the Valentine’s Day Ball.”
That was a deliberate change of topic. Mother apparently would not discuss this. “It’s for Minnie’s wedding. I’m not invited to the ball.”
“I understand that Mr. Wagner has shown interest.”
Jen flinched. Her sisters were relentless in promoting this impossible match. “Minnie and Ruth are making a lot out of nothing. We work together. That’s all. Besides, even if he did ask me, I wouldn’t accept.” That wasn’t quite true. Despite his arrogance, she couldn’t refuse an evening on Daring Dan’s arm.
“I see.” Mother’s tone made it perfectly clear she didn’t believe Jen.
“Well, maybe I would, but he is so arrogant and manipulative. He went to Jack and made him promise not to let me fly in the polar expedition.”
“Apparently Mr. Wagner has a great deal more sense than my daughter. Passing a written examination can’t possibly qualify you to fly an airplane on a dangerous mission. You have never even taken a ride in one. The heights might make you ill.”
“I’m not afraid of heights.”
“Mrs. Shea said Darcy had to have hours of practice before she was qualified to fly an airplane.”
Jen gritted her teeth. “Yes, but I don’t have the time for hours of practice.”
“Genevieve Rose. You have put ambition above common sense.”
“But Daddy—”
“Your father would not approve of this foolishness, either.” She placed her hand over Jen’s. “Patience, dearest. Use the intelligence God gave you and stop trying to force things that aren’t meant to be.”
“How do you know it’s not meant to be?” Jen jerked her hand away. “Maybe the polar crossing is my destiny.”
To her credit, Mother didn’t scold. “If it is, then everything will fall into place.”
Jen couldn’t agree with such a passive approach. Anything worth accomplishing took struggle and perseverance. The British pilots credited with the first transatlantic flight had overcome their share of problems and barely reached the coast of Ireland. Success didn’t depend on circumstances falling into place. It depended on overcoming setbacks.
But before Jen could respond, Ruth and Sam came down from upstairs and Minnie rushed in with a blast of cold air and a burst of excitement.
“Mariah said her parents are going to give Peter enough money to set up the wood shop that he’s wanted for ages.” Minnie tugged the cloche hat from her head.
“Why would they give Peter money for a wood shop?” Even though Mariah was married to Peter’s foster brother, Jen couldn’t understand why her parents would step in financially.
“It’s for the apprentice program, so Peter can train the older orphaned boys to work with their hands.” Minnie beamed with pride at her fiancé’s project. “They’re going to build the wood shop on the land next to the orphanage. Can you believe that Mr. Coughlin is donating the property? Mariah says that goes to show that the Lord can work wonders in the most unlikely places.”
Mr. Coughlin had been a mean old hermit for years after his wife died and his son ran off. He had softened a bit in recent years, but this was an enormous change of heart. In the past he’d built a fence to keep people from straying onto his land.
“What wonderful news,” Mother said. “When do they expect to build?”
While Minnie outlined the plans to start building as soon as the ground thawed, Jen noticed Ruth and Sam giving each other looks that meant they’d come to an unspoken consensus.
“Well, I suppose we ought to get supper on the table,” Mother said.
Jen hopped up. “I’ll do it.” She was restless anyway, and the chicken and dumplings smelled delicious.
“Please sit, Jen,” Sam said.
She couldn’t. Whatever was happening, she couldn’t hear it sitting down. Jen crossed to the cupboards and removed a stack of plates.
Sam looked to Ruth, who nodded.
“While you’re all here,” he began slowly, “we have news of our own to announce. It has to do with my...” He drew a shaky breath and swiped at his mouth.
Ruth touched his shoulder with a combination of gentle compassion and unwavering strength. No matter what had happened, she would stand by her husband. At this moment, that meant she took over explaining what had happened. “Sam’s father has suffered a setback, and his mother needs help caring for him. After much prayer, we’ve decided to go to New York so we can help her.”
Jen didn’t understand. She set the plates on the table. “Wouldn’t it be better to hire a nurse?”
“Sam’s mother suggested that.” Ruth squeezed her husband’s hand. “But we feel this is an opportunity for reconciliation. We can’t let it pass.”
Sam nodded. “You know how my father reacted to our marriage. He refused to speak with me. Now he can’t speak. The latest stroke took that from him, but Mother says he can hear and understand. It’s probably the last chance I have to mend the breach between us.”
“We understand,” Mother said quietly.
Sam wasn’t finished. “In addition, I vowed long ago to look after my mother if ever the need arose. It has. She needs my help.” He squeezed Ruth’s hand. “Our help.”
“Then Minnie will run the dress shop?” Jen asked. Without Ruth, there was no one else. Mother hadn’t sewn in years, since Daddy’s health began to decline.
Minnie blanched. “But I planned to help out Peter.”
“I expected you would,” Ruth said calmly. “That’s why we are closing the dress shop in Pearlman and moving it to New York.”
Jen dropped into a chair. “You’re what?” The muted voices and Mother’s questioning now made sense. But closing the shop? “What will we live on? How will we pay the house mortgage?”
Mother took the lead with her usua
l firm hand. “I plan to sell the house.”
“But—” Jen choked as she realized that once Ruth and family left and Minnie married, only two of them remained at home.
Mother continued, “After Minnie’s wedding, I will join Ruth and Sam in New York.”
Jen’s head spun. Her entire world was coming apart. “Then...” She didn’t need to finish. The result was obvious.
In less than three months, she would be homeless.
Chapter Nine
No wonder Mother had pushed and prodded Jen to apply to nursing school. Even though the final decision had likely come today, she must have known for some time that Ruth and Sam were considering closing the shop and leaving Pearlman. Sam’s father’s stroke had turned speculation to certainty.
Understanding what had spurred the decision didn’t make Jen feel any better. “But why sell our house? This is our home. We all grew up here. This is where Daddy sent us off to school and read us stories at bedtime. This is where he spent so much of his life.” And where he’d died.
“Your father isn’t here,” Mother responded with characteristic firmness. Once she set her mind on a course of action, there was no changing it.
“But our memories are.”
“Your memories live in your heart.” Any shakiness or doubt had vanished from Mother’s voice. “They can’t be found in wood and plaster. This is too big a house for one woman.”
“But I’m here.”
Mother cast her an understanding yet firm smile. “It’s time someone else raised a family here. It’s time to move on, Genevieve.”
But moving on hurt. The fatal spin of a stalled airplane could not feel worse. Everyone else had determined a course and filed a flight plan. Jen alone stood on the ground while her dreams flew away.
Unable to stomach the excited planning, she finished supper and retired to her room to study the nursing program advertisement. Now she had no choice. After Minnie’s wedding in May, she must stand on her own. Since marriage was not on the horizon, she had to find a job that would pay enough for room, board and—someday—flight lessons. Jack and Darcy couldn’t give her that. No job in Pearlman could.
She drew a sheet of paper from the desk that she and Minnie shared. Taking a fountain pen, she poised it over the paper. What should she write?
The entire course of her life had changed. Instead of honoring her father’s name in the record books, she must grind out a living as a nurse. This was not the life she had envisioned. Mother would say it was the life set before her, that she must accept the opportunities that came her way, but everything inside Jen rebelled at the idea of becoming a nurse.
No matter what Mother said, Jen wasn’t nurse material. Nurses did not neglect their patients. They did not run off to the flight school to fetch study materials when they were supposed to be watching a patient. A nurse did not leave a sick father when he needed her most.
Jen swiped away an angry tear. What kind of daughter was she? All she had to do was spend time with her beloved father, but the moment she’d thought he was sleeping, she’d left. By the time she returned, he was gone.
The pain surfaced raw as a fresh wound. It was her fault. Her fault.
She’d thought that fulfilling their dream would solve everything. By passing the written examination, that horrible guilt would go away. By honoring her father with a record flight, he would live again.
That would never happen.
She must become a nurse. She must save others to pay back the sin of leaving her father when he needed her most.
She touched the pen to the paper and wrote the application letter.
* * *
If Jen Fox hadn’t scowled at the mention of that Valentine’s Day ball, Dan might have asked her to accompany him. Seeing her in an evening gown would be worth the sparring sure to follow.
He chuckled. She sure wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever known.
Spunk? In barrelfuls.
Opinionated? All the time.
Sure of herself? Seemed to be, but that might be an act. He ought to know. He’d put on a show of confidence ever since the accident. No one knew his palms sweated when the plane took off. No one suspected the internal battle every time he stepped into a plane. If he flew alone, no problem, but as soon as another person entered the plane, he choked. Make that other person a woman, and he couldn’t squeeze a breath into his lungs.
That’s why he wouldn’t put Jen in any plane he flew. Nor would he be party to any effort that would put her in danger. If she wasn’t so mule-headed, she’d realize that her requests were impossible. Learn to fly now? In changeable weather? Ridiculous. Sit in the cockpit on the dangerous polar attempt? She must be out of her mind. Didn’t she know how many pilots died in less risky ventures? And they were experienced. She wasn’t.
Monday morning he sat in the flight school office waiting for Jen to show up. It wasn’t like her to be late. She was always there before him, arching an eyebrow and commenting on his tardiness. Something must be wrong.
He arranged the supply lists from oldest to newest. He leafed through the list of suppliers. As the clock inched past the nine o’clock hour, he could wait no longer.
He picked up the telephone and got the operator. “Please connect me to the Fox house.”
There was a slight pause. “I’m sorry, sir, but the Foxes don’t have a telephone at their house. Would you like me to connect you to their business?”
Jen tromped in, shook the snow off her mackinaw and threw her gloves on the table.
“Never mind,” Dan told the operator before hanging up the receiver. “Miss Fox. Glad to see you could make it this morning.”
She shot him a scathing glare. “I happened to have business. Considering this is a volunteer position, it hardly matters if I am here early or not. You, on the other hand, are being paid, a fact you seemed to have forgotten on Friday when you didn’t work at all.”
“Ouch!” Dan mimicked being struck by an arrow. “You know how to wound a guy.”
She peeled off the mackinaw despite the fact that the office was freezing. “So, what did you get done?”
“I rearranged your supply lists.”
“You did what? Those were already in perfect order. Now you’ve gone and made more work for me.” She grabbed the lists and one by one slammed the papers down on the tabletop, lining them up in an order that only she understood.
Dan had been mistaken when he described her as a prickly porcupine. She was something a whole lot more dangerous. A warthog came to mind. Maybe a charging bull. Or a grizzly mother protecting her cubs. Best to steer clear.
“You could do something,” she spat.
That sounded like a challenge he’d better not ignore. He surveyed the remaining stack of papers. “What order do you want those in?”
She glared. And didn’t answer.
Fool that he was, he tried again. “Something bothering you?”
“No!”
That woman was definitely upset. He’d weathered his share of pouts and tears. Anger was refreshing. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Who said I wanted your help?”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “That’s my girl.”
She slammed the papers down and glared at him, hands on hips. “First of all, Wagner, I’m not your girl. Secondly, I didn’t ask for your help. Third, you couldn’t help even if I did tell you what’s wrong. It has nothing to do with you, all right?”
Dan did his best to hide the belly laugh that was building inside him, but it was tough not to grin. He did love a gal who could speak her mind.
She stabbed a finger at him. “Stop smirking, Mr. High-and-Mighty. You won’t have to deal with me much longer.”
“What do you mean?” He slid from his perc
h on the corner of the table. “Did Hunter call off the expedition?”
“No. I’m leaving.”
The announcement hit with the force of a bad landing. “Leaving? Why?”
“Because I have to make money, that’s why. I’m not rich like you. In a couple months, I’m going to lose my home. It’s time I grew up and took responsibility for myself.”
“Admirable,” he murmured, but that picture she’d painted didn’t make sense. “What do you mean you’re going to lose your home?”
“My mother is selling it and moving to New York with my sister Ruth and her family.”
That explained the short temper. He’d be upset, too.
He drew in a deep breath. “I couldn’t imagine losing the ranch.” That’s why he’d propped it up all those years, and why he’d gone out on a limb asking for an advance from Kensington.
She stared at the papers, which she kept shuffling. “Yeah, well, it’s not pleasant to lose the only home you’ve ever known, but I guess no one can stop change.”
“I suppose not,” he said slowly. “What do you plan to do?”
She shook her head. “Nursing school.”
“You?” He tried to swallow that image. Jen Fox was strong and sure of herself, but she was not the nurturing sort.
“Yes, me,” she snapped. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, I suppose not.” He rubbed his jaw. His quick reaction had put them on opposite sides when he wanted to get on the same side. She was clearly upset over the decision but felt she had no choice. If he said she couldn’t do it, she would go ahead just to prove him wrong. He needed a different tactic. “I was just surprised. I hadn’t heard you mention an interest in nursing.”
Her scowl wavered. “It’s a job.”
“It’s a demanding profession.”
“A nurse might have saved my father,” she whispered.
Her words sent a shiver deep to his gut. That was why she wanted to become a nurse. “That’s a noble reason to join the profession.”
“No, it’s not.”
Now he was confused, but she didn’t explain further.