“But Pastor Burns, he took me under his wing, mentoring me and teaching me about God, helping me grow in my faith, and being that father figure that I never had in my own father. And now that he’s gone, I just feel so… alone. That’s why I come here. To think and pray and feel close to him.”
Roy’s throat swelled as he listened to Cora’s words. Hearing Cora speak about his father was like getting to know him all over again but through someone else’s eyes. Cora saw a value in his father that he’d never fully appreciated, and he wondered why he had spent so much of his youth blind to what was right in front of his eyes. Cora and his father clearly had developed this bond while he was still living here in Lakewood, but he was too absorbed in his own angst to pay any notice.
“I know you think that I don’t care about my father or his passing, and I know I’ve given you every reason to think that,” Roy said when he finally spoke, staring down at his calloused hands.
“My father and I had our baggage, and we didn’t always see eye to eye. I guess I thought there would always be the chance to reconcile one day. Now it’s too late.”
Roy’s heart was heavy as he admitted this out loud for the first time, staring out the window at the field where he and his father used to go for walks and toss a ball back and forth. This was when he was younger, before everything got so complicated. He could see the scene unfold before him as if the window was a picture frame, freezing that moment in time.
His shoulders tensed just slightly when he felt a warm, soft hand land on his. He was not used to being touched so tenderly, and the action caught him off guard. He looked down at Cora’s hand on his. Her fingers wrapped around his palm in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. The smooth, fair skin of her hand was a stark contrast to his, so bronzed and calloused from working in the sun.
Roy didn’t move his hand, allowing himself to be comforted by her soft touch. He looked up into her blue eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. Roy quickly looked away. The feeling he got when he was near her scared him, and he didn’t know how to disentangle those feelings from the grief that was ravaging inside of him.
“It’s not too late,” Cora said softly. “You still have an opportunity to reconcile with your father in a different way.”
“How?” Roy asked, his voice cracking. He didn’t want Cora to see him cry, but he was dangerously close to losing control.
“You can stay,” Cora said, empathy evident in her voice. “You can stay here in Lakewood, at least for a little while. To honor your father’s last wish.”
Every impulse Roy had to leave this town and never look back began to dissolve at Cora’s words. He did not know if his father was sending him a divine message through Cora or if she just knew the right words to say to weaken his resolve. Perhaps it was a combination of both. Regardless, Roy knew that she was right. He knew what he needed to do.
He nodded, looking into her eyes once more and fighting back all the terrifying emotions that came from locking eyes with hers.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
Chapter Eleven
Ever since Pastor Burns’ illness, the residents of Lakewood traveled a mile down the road to Magnolia Grove to attend service there. The small church was overwhelmed by the increase in numbers from taking in the parishioners of Lakewood, but they were understanding, and welcomed them with open arms.
Without the generosity of Magnolia Grove, Lakewood would not have a church to call home; the existing church had fallen into disarray since Pastor Burns became too ill to maintain the building, and now they were without both a pastor and a suitable building to worship.
Cora stood with her father in the Magnolia Grove churchyard after Sunday service the following day. Leaving church was always a lengthy process; since her father was the town sheriff, he was acquainted with everyone and always had to stop and converse with everyone they passed. While she waited for her father to end the conversation with a group of men and their wives about the expansion of railroads and the possibility of a track running near Lakewood—topics that did not interest Cora in the slightest—she found her eyes scanning the churchyard in hopes of spotting Roy.
She didn’t know why she was disappointed when Roy was nowhere to be found in the crowd. She was well aware that he no longer had an interest in church, and he certainly didn’t want to socialize with the people of Lakewood. Nevertheless, she thought that perhaps her prayers had been answered, and Roy’s heart would be drawn to church that morning.
While Cora was once more scanning the crowd just in case she might have missed Roy, her father approached her with a man by his side.
“Cora,” her father said proudly, “I’d like to formally introduce you to Alfred Mills.”
Cora stared into the face of the man that her father wished for her to marry. He was a tall and well put together man, his black hair slicked to one side and his facial hair neatly trimmed. Cora might have considered him handsome if not for the chill he brought with him when he stood nearby. He seemed to wear a permanent smirk, as if he thought entirely too highly of himself.
Alfred tipped his hat cordially at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Cora. I am pleased that your father has agreed to our marriage.”
Cora’s stomach turned at the wordmarriageand the overall arrogance that saturated his tone, but she didn’t want to upset her father, especially not in the company of others.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Mr. Mills,” Cora said politely, searching his face for any sign of tenderness that might allow her to open her heart to the idea of marriage toward him.
But when she looked into his eyes, there was no sign of warmth. The coolness in his eyes caused the hairs on Cora’s arms to stand up, and she knew in her gut that he was a man of opportunity, not sincerity. Through this one, brief encounter, her aversion to marry this man only intensified.
“Alfred,” Sheriff Williams continued the pleasantries, “Cora and I would be honored if you would join us at our home this afternoon for lunch.”
Cora shot her father a scathing glare at this invitation. The last thing she wanted was to spend her afternoon with Alfred Mills. However, if Alfred noticed Cora’s expression, he gave no indication.
“It would be my pleasure,” he accepted, his voice smooth and cool. “I would enjoy nothing more than spending the afternoon getting to know you and Cora better, and I’m sure that Cora is anexcellentcook.” He looked at Cora as he spoke, and she thought his attempt at a smile came across as a sneer, intensifying the coldness in his eyes.
Sheriff Williams placed his hand firmly on his daughter’s shoulder and squeezed. “She is indeed an excellent cook. I don’t think you will be disappointed.”
“Well then, I will meet you there in half an hour,” Alfred said, nodding at her father. He didn’t look at Cora again as he walked back toward their own wagon.
