Fourteen

The whole evening, Gerda couldn’t get her conversation with her brother out of her mind. August didn’t have any reason to lie to her, so she believed him. He was there when Frank knelt at the church altar and asked Jesus into his heart. So was Gustaf. Surely Frank didn’t do it just to impress her. If so, why spend so much time asking questions about what Pastor Harrelson said? Besides, in his sermon on Sunday, Joseph had told about his life as a gunman before he gave his heart to Jesus. Frank had lived by the gun, too, but he hadn’t broken the law. He upheld it. God could reach out to him just as well as he could reach into that prison to save Joseph Harrelson.

All the time Gerda dressed for bed, she thought about Frank. She brushed her hair one hundred strokes before plaiting it in a loose braid for sleep, remembering every expression on his face during each of his visits to the store that day. Looking at that tall man with a bouquet clutched in his masculine hands touched something deep inside her. Those hands were working hands—strong hands, bronzed by the sun, with fingers that could wield a hammer as well as a gun. She wondered how gentle those fingers would feel if they brushed her cheek.

Frank brought gifts to her and treated her with respect, even as his gaze seemed to devour her every expression. His eyes were like quicksilver, always changing. The blue going from light to a medium hue as he seemed to be memorizing her features. When his gaze connected with hers, his eyes were aflame with something that Gerda wasn’t ready to put a name to.

She set her hairbrush down, walked over to her rocking chair, and picked up her Bible. When she sat down, it fell open in her lap at the first chapter of Job. Maybe his story of woe would take her mind off the puzzle that was Frank Daggett, handsome lawman and new Christian.

When she got to the eighth verse, she stopped.

Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?

These words fell into her heart. She remembered the day Anna brought her Bible to the shop and shared this verse with her. If God was bringing it to her attention more than once, maybe God saw Frank in a different way than Gerda had seen him all along. Maybe He saw the man Frank was going to become, not the one he had been. Maybe Frank was becoming an upright man who feared God and turned from evil. From what she knew, he certainly fought evil every chance he got.

Gerda bowed her head and closed her eyes. Father God, are You trying to tell me something? I have begged You to take the temptation of Frank Daggett out of my life and heart, but he’s still there. Now he knows You. Is he the man You prepared for me? Is he the reason I haven’t felt drawn to any other man?

She opened her eyes and lifted her head, then looked across the room at the empty settee. “God, I wish You were sitting there talking to me. I want to hear Your voice. I am so uncertain. Why does it have to be so hard to know for sure that I’m hearing from You?”

❧

About midmorning on Tuesday, July 1, Frank went into the Dress Emporium. Gerda and a customer were looking at a stack of bolts on the counter. The colors of the fabrics ranged from indigo blue all the way through the colors of a rainbow and beyond. The woman seemed to be having a hard time deciding which to choose, so Frank walked around the store and looked at all the doodads sitting on shelves and furniture. Gerda or Anna had skillfully draped lacy things around them to display the items in an artistic manner. What was it about women that they could do that naturally? Frank knew he had never arranged anything to look that good. He pictured things lined up and in order, but usually they were boring to look at. That’s why a man needed a woman to bring beauty into his life. A woman like Gerda.

When the customer finally went out the front door, Frank turned from where he was studying a display of gloves, handbags, and scarves. Gerda stood close behind him.

“Can I help you with anything, Frank?” The wary look that had been on her face yesterday was gone, and in its place was peace. Frank took that as a good sign.

“I came to ask you something, Gerda.”

Her eyebrows lifted as if in question, but she didn’t ask one.

“The picnic.” Frank cleared his throat. She was so close that his nostrils filled with the delicate fragrance of some flower, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Roses, maybe. He just knew that it came from Gerda. It drew him toward her like a bee to honey. He wanted to take her in his arms and bury his face in her abundant corn silk colored hair, but he held back. “Would you accompany me to the Independence Day picnic?”

Gerda stared into his eyes as if looking for something. “That would be nice. I can make a basket of food to take.”

“No need.” Frank wanted to cradle her cheek in his hand. He was sure it would feel soft and smooth. Instead he stuffed both hands into his pockets. “I’ll bring everything. All you have to do is get ready.”

“Why, Frank.” Gerda chuckled low in her throat. The sound caused a trembling in Frank’s midsection. He had never had that happen before. “I didn’t know that you could cook, too.”

He laughed with her. “I wouldn’t want the meal to be a disaster. Bacon or ham and eggs aren’t right for a picnic. No, I’ll have Mrs. Olson at the boardinghouse do the basket. I often eat there, and she’s a good cook. She sure likes to mother the single men who frequent her place.”

Gerda walked over to the counter, talking to him as she went, so he followed. “I didn’t know you still ate there—since you moved into your house.”

“It’s easier than trying to cook for myself. As I said, my cooking abilities are limited.”

She walked around the counter and reached behind it to lift something off the shelf. “I never thanked you for your gift.” She held the figurine that had belonged to his mother in the palm of her hand. Her fingers caressed it as she talked. “I enjoy looking at her. I often put her near me when I’m working.”

Frank leaned one hand on the counter. “Does she make you think of me, Gerda?” For some reason, the answer to this question was very important to him.

She didn’t take her eyes off his and hers twinkled. “Oh, I don’t need reminders to think of you.” She must have realized how that sounded, because she looked down and blushed.

Frank smiled. That was the best thing anyone had ever said to him. He was glad it was Gerda who’d said it. “Well, I’ll come by your apartment at about ten o’clock on Friday.”

“I’ll be ready.” Her whispered words reached him just before he went out the door.

❧

Gerda awoke early on Friday. Her stomach fluttered too much to eat any breakfast, so she just made a pot of tea. She took a leisurely bath and trimmed and buffed her nails until they had a healthy shine. After splashing on some rose water, she braided her hair and fastened it into a figure-eight bun at the nape of her neck. It took her a long time to decide what to wear. She tried on three different dresses before settling on a navy skirt and a crisp, white middy blouse with a sailor collar. The braid on the collar matched the color of the skirt. She liked the way the outfit emphasized her waist, and it wouldn’t be too dressy for a picnic.

Gerda sat on the settee, listening to the traffic in the street. Too restless to stay seated, she went into her bedroom and peeked between the ruffled curtains. It looked as if everyone in town was headed in the direction of Lake Ripley. The people in Litchfield really liked to celebrate freedom. She glanced at the watch pinned to her collar. It was only 9:30.

When she sat in the rocking chair with a book of poetry, she didn’t mind the wait. She enjoyed the rhythm and beauty of the words and the emotions they spoke about. Before she knew it, footsteps were coming up the wooden stairs. Gerda put down the book, looked at her watch again, and smiled. Frank must have been eager, too. He’s early.

The knock was gentle but firm, just like Frank. Gerda opened the door. The man who stood there took her breath away. He was not the cowboy or the lawman. Frank was dressed in navy twill trousers and a navy-and-white-striped shirt. Without his hat, guns, and boots, he looked younger, more carefree. She liked what she saw.

“Gerda, you look wonderful.” His eyes showed his appreciation.

“So do you.” Gerda stood there for a minute, just looking at him. “Would you like to come in?”

Frank glanced past her. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. You’re here alone, aren’t you?”

His thoughtfulness touched Gerda’s heart. “Do we need one of my quilts to spread on the ground?” She turned to go get one.

“I brought one. Let’s go down to the buggy.”

Frank closed the door behind her and held her arm as they descended the stairs. The warmth of his touch spread up and down her arm, tingling as it went. When they rounded the corner of the store, Frank gestured toward a surrey with a fringed top. Its horse was tied to the hitching post.

“I haven’t seen this buggy at the livery stable. Where did you rent it from?”

Frank helped her down from the boardwalk and up into the buggy. “It’s mine, Gerda. I went to Minneapolis on Wednesday. It took me awhile to find just the one I wanted and the right horse to pull it. I drove it back yesterday.” He untied the animal and climbed up on the seat beside her. “I couldn’t take you places on my saddle horse, and I didn’t want us to have to walk everywhere.”

Gerda could hardly believe it. Frank had bought a buggy to take her places. The thought brought visions of being with him through all the seasons of the year—with autumn leaves falling, in the snow, when spring flowers were budding. . .

All the way to Lake Ripley, their conversation was light and refreshing, but she was constantly aware of the lithe man sharing the seat with her. His hands on the reins were skilled at controlling the horse, and muscles in his arms rippled as he moved with the action of the surrey. Occasionally, when the buggy hit a bump in the road, their shoulders touched. Each time it happened, Gerda’s heart leaped. She hoped she wouldn’t be breathless by the time they reached the picnic area.

The day was perfect. Although the sun shone brightly, it was cool under the trees where a gentle breeze blew across the lake. They spread their quilt near other members of her family. Soon everyone was visiting. At about eleven o’clock, the men decided to play a baseball game before lunch.

“I’ve never played before.” Frank looked doubtful.

“That’s all right.” Gustaf clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll teach you.”

Gerda was proud of Frank. It didn’t take him long to get the hang of it, and he could hit the ball farther than any of the other men. As she watched him run and play, something inside Gerda melted. This man was amazing in every way.

Olina sat down beside Gerda. “I was surprised to see you come with Frank. Is he calling on you now?”

“This is the first time he has asked me to go anywhere with him.” Gerda felt a blush creep over her cheeks.

Anna smiled. “I think it won’t be the last.”

I hope not. Gerda didn’t dare say her thoughts aloud. She didn’t want there to be too much talk about them.

Frank’s team won the game. She was glad that her brothers were on his side.

The men jumped around as if they were boys. They clapped each other on the back and shouted.

“Playing baseball is hot work.” Frank took his handkerchief from his back pocket and mopped his brow.

“Let’s go wash up.” Gustaf led the way to the stream that fed Lake Ripley.

The men washed their hands and faces in the cool, clear water. Gerda enjoyed watching the way Frank interacted with the others. He wasn’t the sheriff today. He was just a man enjoying his friends, and it was a good thing. When the men returned to where the quilts were spread, water droplets decorated Frank’s hair, looking like diamonds nestled in the curls.

The men had brought Pastor Joseph to eat with them. Before they said the blessing, Frank asked if he could tell them something. Gerda stood back and listened to every word he said. Each syllable sounded as if it came straight from his heart.

“I want to thank Joseph for the sermons he’s been preaching, especially the one last Sunday.” He nodded at the pastor. “And I want to thank August and Gustaf for taking the time after the service to answer all my questions. Because of these three men, I have accepted Jesus as the Lord of my life.”

Everyone clapped and cheered. Other groups scattered around the lake looked at the ruckus, probably wondering what was going on.

After Joseph said a blessing for those gathered near, he sat on the quilt with Gerda and Frank. She was glad their pastor had joined them. The discussion centered on the Bible, and she enjoyed hearing what they talked about.

“Frank, have you thought about being baptized?” Joseph asked.

Frank put down the piece of fried chicken he was eating. He sat for a moment mulling it over.

“I think I’d like that.”

“We could do it before we leave today. In Lake Ripley. The water isn’t too cold, and I wouldn’t mind riding home in wet clothes. They would probably dry out pretty quickly.”

Frank looked at Gerda as if asking her permission. She knew it wasn’t her place to tell him what to do, but she wanted to let him know that it was fine with her. She gave him a slight nod.

“All right, Preacher, we’re going to have a baptism today.”

❧

As neighbors wandered from quilt to quilt, Frank relished the intervals when he and Gerda were by themselves. They shared stories of their childhoods and youths. The more he heard about Gerda, the more he loved her. He only hoped that the same was true for her.

As she talked, he watched the expressions that flitted across her face. She was so animated. He loved everything about her. The wind blew tendrils around her neck and face, and he wished that it would be appropriate for him to push them out of her way. He could imagine the feel of her silky hair in his fingers. One day, maybe it would be his right to touch her in such an intimate way. He could hardly wait.

About four o’clock, Joseph returned, bringing quite a crowd with him. He had found three more people who wanted to be a part of the baptism. Soon everyone who had scattered around the lake joined them on the side that held a small beach. The pastor took the four candidates for baptism to the edge of the water and decided what order they would go in. The sheriff would be last.

Frank watched as the man of God waded out into the water until it was up to his waist. Each person went to him, one at a time. He spoke solemn words over them then helped them bend over backward until they were completely under the surface of the lake. As they each came up out of the water, their faces beamed. When it was his turn, Frank went to his pastor and good friend. He listened to the words the man spoke over him and relaxed in his arms. When Frank came up out of the water, he knew that his face was shining, too. It was as if the symbolic baptism magnified the cleansing he had received when he accepted Jesus as his Savior. Some of the water streaming down his face wasn’t from the lake.

Gerda stood on the bank holding his quilt ready to wrap him in it, but he didn’t need it. He wanted to just drip dry.

“Why don’t you put it on the wagon seat? That way, I won’t get you wet as we drive home.”

A heavenly melody was playing in his heart, and he knew it would continue until the day he died.

❧

Frank often called on Gerda after the picnic. They spent time with her family or took walks in the evening or they drove through the countryside in the surrey. Every time they were together, they bonded on a deeper level. Gerda knew she didn’t want to think about the possibility of Frank ever not being a part of her life.

Finally, one day, Frank put his arm around her when they were driving in the country. He pulled her against his side. Gerda thought she might faint from the wonderful way it felt to be so close to him. Every time he held her arm to help her across the street or her hand as they walked in the twilight, the connection had caused her to melt inside. But to be so close to him was heavenly. She sighed and nestled closer.

Although June and July had been cooler than usual, August was a scorcher. People were uncomfortable in the heat and disagreements often broke out, keeping Frank busier than usual. He even had to lock a couple of troublemakers in the jail, so he had to keep an eye on them. It had been a couple of days since Gerda had seen him, and she was missing their times together. Frank was becoming a necessity to her.

Gerda went into the mercantile to ask Marja Braxton a question. While she was there, a young man with low-slung guns came through the door. When Gerda first saw him, a shiver of apprehension coursed down her spine. Something wasn’t right about this man. The two women watched him as he made his way around the store. He didn’t really seem to be looking for anything in particular. Finally, he arrived where they were standing by the cash register. Because he made Gerda uncomfortable, she decided to go back to the dress shop. She could keep an eye on what was going on from there. When she turned to go, he pulled his guns and pointed one at her and one at Marja.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His harsh words brought Gerda back to stand near her friend.

“How much money do you have in that?” He nodded toward the register, never taking his eyes off of Marja and Gerda.

“Not very much.” Gerda could tell from the sound of her voice that Marja was just as scared as she was. “We haven’t been very busy today.”

Gerda glanced at Marja, and she looked pale. Gerda inched closer to the older woman in case she fainted.

The gunman had to be in his teens, he looked so young. He pulled a dirty pillowcase from inside his shirt. “Put all the money in this.” Then he shoved it toward Marja.

Marja was shaking so badly, Gerda didn’t think she would be able to move. “I’ll do it for you,” she whispered to her friend. Marja nodded, and Gerda took the bag from his hand.

She opened the drawer and removed the bills from each compartment, stuffing them in the case. Then she scooped up the coins and put them into the bag. She tied a loose knot in the end to keep the money from coming out. She didn’t want anything to upset the man. He might shoot one of them. He took the bag and stuffed it back inside his shirt. Now it wasn’t as flat as it had been when he came in. Through his shirt, it looked like a tumor on his stomach. Gerda almost giggled at that thought, but she knew it was because she was close to becoming hysterical.

“Lay facedown on the floor.” His words sounded harsh.

Gerda was getting tired of this. She hadn’t seen a robbery in all her life until this year. Now she had experienced two. She got as close as she could to Marja and slid her hand over to clasp Marja’s icy one. They heard the robber clomp to the door.

❧

Frank was sitting in his office, thinking about Gerda. One day soon, he was going to ask her to marry him, but he wanted to plan the right time to do it. It had to be perfect. . .for her.

Hank from the livery ran to the door of his office. “Come quick, Sheriff! Someone’s robbing the mercantile!” The man was so excited his voice trembled, and he was almost gasping for breath.

Frank jumped up and grabbed his guns. “How many men? I didn’t hear a gang ride into town.”

“It wasn’t no gang.” Hank hurried along with Frank as he went toward the store. “I was just going in when I noticed a man in the back holding his guns on Marja and Gerda. I ran over here as fast as I could.”

Frank’s heart dropped to his toes when he thought about a man holding a gun on Gerda again. For a moment, red-hot anger swelled within him. Then reason returned. Frank was a lawman. He had to think rationally. Besides, he didn’t think a Christian should be having such hateful thoughts. This was the hardest thing he’d had to face since becoming a believer.

Why had he taken so long to get around to asking Gerda to marry him? He hadn’t wanted to rush her, but what if the man’s trigger finger got itchy? He might shoot either one of the women with very little provocation. Frank hoped he’d get there in time to avert a tragedy.

❧

When the man ran through the door, Gerda got up and rushed to look out the windows at the front of the building. She got there just in time to see the gunman run straight into Frank. The two men crashed to the boardwalk in a tangle of arms and legs. In the struggle to get free from the mess, the thief’s pistol fired, even though he seemed to be trying to shove it into his holster. Frank went still. The kid jumped up and sprinted across the street. Hank and the stationmaster tackled him before he reached his horse. They held him and looked back toward the boardwalk.

She could hardly believe her eyes. Frank was lying in a pool of blood. She ran to him and dropped to her knees, frantically feeling for his pulse. At least it was strong.

Gerda shouted to Hank. “Please! Go get Dr. Bradley!” The pool of blood didn’t seem to be getting any larger, and Gerda was afraid she would hurt him if she tried to move him. Then she began to weep over the man she loved with all her heart.

❧

Frank could hardly believe it. That juvenile robber shot him while he was trying to catch hold of him. His shoulder felt like it was on fire. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. Before he opened them again, Gerda had dropped to the boardwalk beside him and she was yelling for someone to get the doctor. He relaxed and kept his eyes shut. There was nothing else he could do until the doctor got there.

Gerda’s hot tears began falling onto his face, and she started praying for him. Her prayer warmed his heart.

“Oh, God. I love Frank and can’t live without him. Please make sure he stays alive.”

Oh, he was alive all right. He hurt a lot, but he was alive and aware of every word she said.

Frank slowly opened his eyes and gazed into Gerda’s troubled face. “Gerda, will you marry me?”

She looked startled, but she nodded just before Doc took her place beside him.