He looked at her oddly as he pulled away. “I didn’t know it had been so hard for you.”
“I missed you. You had to know that. I wrote it in all my cards and letters home.”
He glanced down and shrugged. “I’m sorry I wasn’t up to the task of having you home for the holidays.”
She gave his arm a squeeze. “It’s all right. Let’s put it behind us. We have each other now. Come and sit. I have some gifts for you.”
Laura had brought trinkets of affection to give her father. She had purchased three books she thought he’d like, a new fountain pen carved from whale bone, and decidedly masculine-scented cologne bags for his dresser drawers.
He had arranged presents for her as well, including a beautiful necklace of exquisite diamonds and sapphires. Laura argued that the gift was much too expensive, but her father told her it was in keeping with her new status and that he hoped to give her most everything she asked for. The only thing he refused her was her request to attend Christmas church services.
“It’s far too cold, and besides, I don’t have a church to attend.” He dismissed the subject then, since Mrs. Duffy announced breakfast was served.
For the rest of the day, they quietly read in the front room. From time to time, one or the other made a comment, but it was a rather uncomfortable time for Laura. She had hoped she’d return to the loving father she remembered. Instead, she found herself wondering if she had simply invented that person in her mind. Surely not. She had good memories of him and her mother. Of course that had been a long, long time ago, but people didn’t change that much. Did they?
The next day, Laura was determined to talk to him about rectifying the matter. “Father, I hope you don’t mind, but I was rather hoping to talk to you about something,” Laura began, midway through breakfast.
“Whatever it is, speak up.” Her father had been balancing his attention between her, the food, and the newspaper.
“I was wondering why we did not attend Christmas services. I remember Mama was quite fond of us going to church together on Christmas morning. Through the years, I’ve found it to be such a glorious time.”
His expression saddened. “I haven’t been in church for years, if you want an honest answer. I’m afraid my anger at losing your mother left me unable. I haven’t yet worked out a way to make peace with a God who would steal away a child’s mother and a beloved wife when so many evildoers go unharmed.” He picked up his coffee and met her gaze. “I’m sorry if that offends you, but I have no use for religion.”
Laura tried to choose her words carefully. “I can understand your feelings. Losing Mama sent me in the opposite direction, however. And in your absence, I was most desperate for a father’s love and attention.”
“You always had both from me, just not face-to-face. For that, I’m deeply sorry. I wasn’t a strong man back then. Your mother’s death nearly brought on my own. I sent you away, Laura, because I knew I could not be a decent father to you. It wasn’t for lack of love.” He put the coffee down untasted.
“I had little love in my life as a child. Your mother’s love was my first real experience with it. She taught me to feel and care about things and people. I had so carefully guarded myself against such things that it was an entirely new way of living for me. Then you came along, and it was easy to lose my heart to you as well.”
Laura smiled. “And you were a very good father. You still are. I hated our separation, but you explained it quite well, and I held great sympathy for you. And even though I needed your attention and affection, there was a part of me thatknew such a tenderness for your needs that my own seemed unimportant.”
“Still, it was wrong,” her father replied. “I should have been there for you. Your grief was great. It wasn’t right that I should have sent you away, but please know it was never for lack of love.”
She had always been certain of this and gave a nod. “You have always proven to me that your love was sincere and never-ending. I suppose that’s why it was easy for me to accept God’s love and to build my faith ever deeper. Mother always encouraged it, and without you to guide and encourage, I sought my heavenly Father. I hope you don’t find it offensive, but my faith is a big part of who I am. I can’t deny it just because you have no interest in it. I mean to attend church on Sunday and to continue being a woman of faith.”
“I have no problem with that,” her father replied, once again picking up his coffee. He took a long drink, then seemed to consider the contents before speaking. “Faith in God is a very personal thing. I’m sure you would agree.”
“Of course.”
He put the cup back on the saucer. “It’s difficult for me to make peace with God. That doesn’t mean that in time I won’t seek to do so, but for now, I am unable to reconcile the matter. I beg your indulgence and patience, and I ask that you refrain from any attempt to rush my reconciliation.”
“Of course. I have no right to impose my faith on anyone else.” She felt sorry for her father. He was still deeply wounded by the death of his wife. Laura whispered a prayer for guidance. Her heart’s desire was that her father would find peace once again and come to realize God’s grace and mercy in the midst of his pain.
“Good,” her father said, pushing back from the table. “Now finish up. As soon as you are done with breakfast, we’ll make our way to the Cheyenne Ladies’ Department Store. I think you’ll be quite impressed. I’ve patterned various sections off some of the finer stores in Paris, London, and New York.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He seemed so excited to show her what he had created. “I’m ready. I couldn’t eat another bite.” Laura folded her napkin and scooted back. “Let me get my things.”
The short ride through town was only slightly hampered by the snow. The blizzard winds had blown much of the snow into large drifts, and Mr. Grayson capably maneuvered the team as they made their way through the neighborhood.
Cheyenne in a cover of white seemed pristine and vast. The centralized downtown was nestled snuggly together in a crisscross of streets and contained a wide variety of businesses with everything from dressmakers and milliners to jewelry stores and an entire shop devoted to glassware. Skirting the edges of these were collections of houses and churches, expanding out to neighborhoods where even now children played in the snow. But the thing that most intrigued Laura was the noticeable lack of trees. How fascinating that the town simply rose out of the prairie, seemingly from nothing.
“We’ll soon have a very fashionable city,” Father declared. “Cheyenne hopes to one day be the capital of a great state. It’s already an important crossroads.”
“You’ve only just become a territory,” Laura reminded. “No doubt the government will take its time in seeing it become a state. From what I’ve learned, Congress has the power to create states but not a set plan for how to do it. Isn’t it based somewhat on population?”
“You seem to have learned a great deal at school,” her father said, looking somewhat impressed.
“I did. My school was quite progressive in seeing women obtain as good an education as that offered by the various men’s universities. However, they also instructed that each and every bit of knowledge we obtained would be useful in running a proper Southern household. I intend for my children, be they male or female, to value education. It’s very important to be knowledgeable. Don’t you think, Father?”
