“And are ya a God-fearin’ man, Mr. Lane?”
Jefferson had been expecting this question. He didn’t attend church, and Mr. Doyle would no doubt know that for himself.
“I am God-fearing,” Jefferson began. “However, I’m not religious. I haven’t yet found a church that I felt at home in. My mother trained me in the ways of God and the Bible when I was young, and when I was older my father did as well. I put my trust in God long ago and know that the Bible says salvation comes alone through Jesus. I’m certainly not opposed to attending church, but not having been here even a year, I find it easier to study the Bible at home on Sunday.” The mix of truth and lies was easy enough for Jefferson to share.
“A man is a fool who stands as his own counsel.” Mr. Doyle’s eyes narrowed slightly. “However, I do understand yar thinkin’. I’ve been there meself. I’d encourage ya to come join us at the Methodist services on Sunday night. We meet at the school.”
“Yes, I know. Melody invited me to attend on Easter. I didn’t make it because I was feeling under the weather. However, I hope to go this Sunday.”
Jefferson could see that his answer helped Doyle to relax a bit. He knew from comments others had made that the older man was definitely firm on his beliefs about God. He had known from his first thoughts to seek Melody as a wife that he would have to convince both that he was a man of God. Given his background, Jefferson knew all the right thingsto say and do. It shouldn’t be that hard to convince them of his sincerity.
“And ya have a good job, do ya, Mr. Lane?” the interview continued.
“I do. I work for Cheyenne Savings and Loan. I’ve been managing it since the owner’s son fell ill and had to move back to Chicago. Now another son has come to take the helm, but he’s very much dependent upon me.”
“And do ya like what ya do there?” Clancy Doyle’s gaze never left Jefferson’s face. It seemed the man was looking straight into Jefferson’s soul.
“I do, for the most part. I enjoy meeting the folks from town and helping them with their needs. I’ve studied money handling and bookkeeping and find it very satisfying when all those ledgers add up and match.” Jefferson smiled. At least that much was true.
“And what about a home, Mr. Lane. Would ya be livin’ in a place of yar own or a rented apartment?”
“I currently live in a small apartment, but my savings are growing every day, and I intend to purchase a home of my own in the near future.” Another lie, but hopefully the older man wouldn’t realize it. Besides, what should it matter if Jefferson wanted to remain in the rented place? It was his decision as the head of the house, not Clancy Doyle’s as father to the bride.
Clancy took out his pocket watch and checked it. “I’ll have to be askin’ ya to go now. Me daughter will be comin’ home most any time. It’s best that she not be here for the interviews until I figure out which men are worthy of her courtship.”
Jefferson jumped up, quite anxious to leave. “I appreciate that you would consider me, sir.”
Melody’s father looked him over one more time, leaving Jefferson with the distinct feeling of being livestock at auction. It really was ridiculous that in this day and age a woman would be managed in such a way. Worse still, that he should have to endure it for the sake of marrying someone with money.
8
“I’ve selected five different fellas to pay court to ya,” Da told Melody as she served their supper. “Ya can be considerin’ each choice.”
“Five? Well, I suppose that will be more than enough.” She put a bowl of her father’s favorite corned beef and cabbage on the table and took her seat. She began dishing up the food as her father sliced into the fresh loaf of soda bread.
“It’s a variety, to be sure. Their ages range from yar own to about fourteen years older. All have good jobs, seem to have good reputations in the community, and find ya attractive.”
Melody laughed. “Well, I suppose that’s a good thing.” She placed a bowl of food in front of her father, then dished up her own. Once that was done, she took a piece of bread offered by her father and set it beside her bowl to wait for him to pray.
“Oh, gracious Father in heaven, we thank Ya for all that Ya’ve given. Bless the food and the day that we might serve Ya faithfully. Amen.”
“Amen,” Melody replied. She took up the bread and began to butter it. “So when will we start to see these fellas paying court?”
“Yar first outin’ is Friday the twenty-fourth. And the second is on Saturday the twenty-fifth.”
That was barely a week. Melody cut her bread into four equal pieces and took a bite. She trusted that her father had found good men to consider, but the entire matter still made her uneasy. After all, this was a lifelong mate she was searching for. Could she really figure out who to marry in a little more than a month?
“I want to be warnin’ ya about that Jefferson Lane, the fella at the bank. He’s not to be trusted.”
Melody pushed aside her concerns and looked at her father. “He wants to court me?”
“Aye. He came to see me.” Her father sampled the corned beef and smiled. “Yar a good cook, daughter.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She waited a moment, then posed another question. “So what about Jefferson made you uneasy?”
“He’s a liar. I could tell he was lyin’ the minute he opened his mouth. He couldn’t look me in the eye for long at all. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but I’ll not have him courtin’ ya.”
“That’s just as well. He doesn’t appeal to me at all. Whenever I go to the bank, he’s all sweet talk and attention, but there’s something quite unappealing about him.”
