25

I believe the ball is a great success,” Miss Poisie declared.

“But of course it is,” Wade said, smiling at the room of dancing couples. “Your dances are always successful.”

The older woman nodded wistfully. “I do wish my Captain Jonathan could have lived to see this. I think he would have appreciated the nautical motif. He was always such a deep thinker when it came to the sea.”

Wade felt sorry for the woman. Her ongoing love for the dead sea captain was something that he couldn’t begin to understand, having never loved someone in such a manner, yet he held great tenderness for Miss Poisie. Even so, he didn’t want her to dwell on her loss. Seeing Priam Welby had captured Abrianna for yet another dance, he turned to Miss Poisie. “What say we do something in honor of your captain. Would you care to dance?”

The woman’s face lit up. “I would be delighted. I haven’t danced at all this past year, and I believe Jonathan would heartily approve.”

He led the old woman to the floor and swept her into a gentle waltz. They moved much slower than the others, but Miss Poisie didn’t seem to notice. As she closed her eyes, the look on her face seemed more youthful. Perhaps in her thoughts she was young again and dancing with her beloved captain.

Wade kept his steps slow and steady, all the while keeping his eyes on Priam Welby. The man seemed far too familiar with Abrianna. He held her much too close, and the impropriety of it bothered him. Wade had certainly not been raised to concern himself with such rules, but his time spent at the school had taught him about the social etiquette of such affairs. Clearly Welby hadn’t been taught or simply didn’t care.

Welby momentarily let go his hold around Abrianna’s waist and brushed back a stray curl. He let his fingers linger on her cheek longer than necessary before reclaiming his partner. Wade tried not to let his feelings control him. Making a scene was out of the question. Not only would it hurt the old ladies, but he’d promised himself he would allow Abrianna to manage her own affairs that evening. Still, it wasn’t easy.

She can’t understand that there are a great many people like Welby who seem destined to take advantage of others. Abrianna just assumes that everyone has goodness inside them, and no matter how deep that might be hidden, she is determined to find it. Even in the case of Mr. Welby.

The music ended and the orchestra took a brief intermission. Wade led Miss Poisie back to the refreshment table and gave her a slight bow. “Would you care for refreshments, Miss Poisie? Perhaps some punch?”

“Yes, that would be quite satisfying,” she replied. Wade quickly took up a cup offered by one of the newer bridal students and handed it to Miss Poisie.

“Oh look,” she declared, “Miss Fulcher’s parents have arrived. I believe I will go and greet them.” She padded off across the room, punch in hand, to welcome the newcomers.

Wade watched as Lenore quickly crossed the room to hug her mother. She beamed smiles upon each person as she introduced her parents to Kolbein’s sister and brother-in-law.

“Doesn’t she look absolutely radiant?” Abrianna asked, coming alongside him.

“She does, but then so do you.”

For once Abrianna didn’t correct him. “Thank you. You look nicely done up yourself.”

Wade touched the collar of his suit coat. “Thanks to the secondhand store.”

“You look quite fine,” she said, turning her attention back to Lenore. “You will look perfect tomorrow at the wedding.”

“I must say I didn’t expect Kolbein to ask me to stand up with him.”

“It isn’t so strange,” Abrianna countered. “You have been a good friend to him here in Seattle. I think he appreciates all you did to help look for Greta. I know I do. At first you feared he was a scallywag. It was a relief to see that even a man from Chicago could turn out to be an asset and a friend.”

Wade started to comment, but just then Priam Welby interrupted their conversation. “I do hope you won’t keep her all to yourself, Mr. Ackerman. I find that Miss Cunningham is the best dancer here.”

“Oh, hardly that,” Abrianna protested. “It’s true I’ve had a great deal of practice in all my years of living in the bridal school. It would have been impossible to avoid dancing lessons. However, my skills are minimal, at best. There are far better dancers in this company. Not only that, but Mr. Ackerman is not keeping me. Keeping me would suggest I’m unable to keep myself, and that simply isn’t the case. I am, of course, influenced by Mr. Ackerman’s suggestions for my welfare, but no more so than I am of my aunts’ directions.”

“Which often is very little,” Wade said with a chuckle. “I doubt anyone will ever ‘keep’ Abrianna.”

“Perhaps she’s not met the right man to do the job,” Welby said, further irritating Wade with a suggestive smirk.

Wade wasn’t to be outdone, however. He fixed Welby with a knowing look. “I don’t believe Miss Cunningham has yet met a man who deserves her.”

The musicians started tuning up again, and Wade offered Abrianna his hand. “Would you care to join me on the floor?”

She surprised him by refusing. “I believe I’m done with dancing.” She fanned herself for a moment. “Oh, look. Lenore is going to dance with her father.”

Wade heard something akin to longing, perhaps regret, in Abrianna’s voice. Was she once again missing the father she’d never known? He wanted to say something to encourage her, but what could he offer as solace?

Miss Poisie rejoined them and offered her thoughts. “I find that it’s always touching to watch a father and daughter share a dance. I remember once dancing with my beloved father.” She didn’t seem to notice the change in Abrianna’s countenance, but Wade did.

Reaching over, Wade gave Abrianna’s hand a squeeze. “Would you care for something to drink? You seem to have gotten overly warm.”

She looked at him with an expression of appreciation. “Perhaps we could get some air.”

Wade nodded. “I think I can arrange that.” In that moment he would have done most anything Abrianna asked of him. He hated that she was once again reminded of all she did not have.

“I’m so glad that you and Mother came to the ball,” Lenore told her father as they danced.

“Well, it hardly seemed I could refuse your request. After all, you will wed tomorrow and then be my little girl no longer.”

“Oh, Father, I will always be your little girl,” Lenore said, beaming at him. “Have you and Mother given any more thought to taking a trip to Europe?”

“We have discussed it at length,” he replied, “but nothing will be decided until after we get you wed.” He faltered in his step but corrected it before causing them both to misstep. “I’m afraid it’s been a while since I danced.”

“You’re doing fine, Father.” Lenore could see Kolbein dancing with her mother. “And Mother and Kolbein seem to be in perfect step.”

Father smiled. “They do seem quite adept. It would seem your young man has won her over.”

Lenore couldn’t contain her glee. “Once Mother realized that I wouldn’t live in poverty, she could find nothing with which to condemn him. Not that she would. Mother has always been very supportive of my finding true love just as she did.”

“And of course she was right. I only wanted to see you safely cared for. The future isn’t always something we can make plans for. I know . . .” He paused, panting. “I’m afraid I may not be up to this.”

“We don’t need to continue,” Lenore told him. “It was wonderful that you could be here, and that we could share this moment.” Her father slowed their steps and then without warning stopped altogether in the midst of the swirling dancers.

“Oh dear,” he gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Lenore could see the strange look on his face as his color drained. “Father?”

People around them slowed and then stopped as Lenore’s father clutched his chest and collapsed on the floor.

“Father!” Even the music stopped when Lenore let out a scream.

Kolbein was at her side almost immediately, bringing Lenore’s mother with him. “What happened?” He knelt beside the now unconscious man.

“He just stopped and then fell.” She took hold of her mother’s arm. “He just dropped to the floor.”

Her mother nodded, fearful, but not looking overly shocked. “It’s his heart,” she said matter-of-factly.

Lenore looked at her in stunned confusion. “What are you saying?”

By now several people were attending her father. She looked to her mother for answers. “Mother, why do you say it’s his heart? Is something wrong with Father’s heart?”

“The doctor told him that his heart is weak.”

“Then why . . . why did he dance with me?” Lenore looked back to her stricken father. “This is all my fault.”

Her mother took hold of her. “No. It’s not your fault. He knew the risk. He wanted very much to dance with you. It was all he could speak of prior to our arrival.”

“Let me through,” a man declared from the onlooking crowd. “I’m a physician.”

It seemed to take forever, when in fact it was only minutes. The man spoke momentarily to Lenore’s mother before kneeling beside the now still man. “We need to get him to the hospital. It would seem he’s had some sort of attack.” The doctor straightened and looked at the crowd. “I need some men to carry him downstairs to a carriage.”

Wade, Thane, and Kolbein quickly stepped up, as well as several other men, and lifted Lenore’s father. Nothing felt real and Lenore could only watch after them as they worked to maneuver out of the ballroom. Her mother trailed after them, but Lenore felt as if she were nailed to the floor.

Abrianna was quickly at her side, taking hold of her arm. “I heard you scream, and now I see that the reason was sound. How can I help you, my dear friend?”

Mrs. Madison took hold of her on one side, while Abrianna continued to support her on the other. “Help me walk her downstairs to join her mother,” the older woman commanded.

Lenore looked to Mrs. Madison. “I . . . don’t know what to do.”

“Dear, you must not worry about anything. Your father is a sick man, and you must attend him.”

“But the ball . . . our wedding . . .” She shook her head. “Someone will need to contact people . . . to cancel the wedding.”

“You needn’t worry about such things. We can take care of everything,” Mrs. Madison soothed.

“I’m surprised you could even manage a rational thought about it,” Abrianna offered. “In times of great stress one is often given over to a muddled mind.” She looked at Lenore and nodded. “I can see that you are a much stronger woman than I gave you credit for.”

“Abrianna, get the door,” Mrs. Madison said as they reached the front room. “Now, Lenore, you do have one responsibility. You must see to your mother. She will need you at a time like this.”

Lenore found rational thought difficult. Nothing seemed real, and for several minutes she wondered if this was a nightmare. Abrianna patted her arm, but Lenore felt no comfort. Her father might well die, and all from straining his heart by dancing.

“Might I go with them to the hospital, Aunt Miriam?” Abrianna asked. “In times like these, a trusted friend would surely be a fitting companion, even if one does have the support of a fiancé.”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Madison replied. “I suppose someone should.”

Lenore heard the exchange but said nothing. When Mrs. Madison finally agreed to let Abrianna go with her, they had reached the bottom step. Just then Wade was making his way back into the building.

“Abrianna wishes to go with Lenore,” Mrs. Madison declared. “Would you stay with her and see her home?”

Wade nodded. “Of course. I was just coming back to tell Lenore that her father is in his carriage. Her mother, too. I’m sure they have already left. One of the other men offered his carriage to transport you and Kolbein. I’m sure there’s room for us all.”

He led them outside, where Kolbein quickly joined them. “Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry.” Lenore fell into his arms sobbing.

“Come on,” Wade encouraged. “There will be time enough for that.”

They climbed into the offered carriage, and Kolbein took the seat beside Lenore, while Wade and Abrianna sat opposite them. Kolbein drew her close and kept his arm around her, whispering words of comfort in her ear. Abrianna and Wade looked to be in prayer with heads bowed and hands folded. Lenore thought it all a strange sort of act—a tragedy—where each of them had a part to play.

Tears still flowed down her face, but a numbing sort of sensation was gradually sinking over her. She looked to Kolbein for answers, but his grave expression offered little consolation. No one said a word. Even Abrianna had nothing to say, and perhaps that worried Lenore most of all.

The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever, and all Lenore could imagine was a scene where her father lay dying in her mother’s arms. Tomorrow she was to have married, but now she might well be burying her father instead.

When they arrived at the hospital, Lenore allowed Kolbein to help her from the carriage and lead her up the hospital steps. He held her tightly at the elbow and maneuvered them through the building to where her mother stood watching and waiting.

“Is he . . . has he . . .” Lenore sputtered the words and broke into sobs.

Her mother took hold of her. “He isn’t dead, Lenore. You need to be strong now. I need you.”

The tone of her mother’s voice was one Lenore had never heard. She sounded frightened yet appeared so stoic. How long had she known of Father’s illness? Why had they kept it from her?

Lenore forced her tears back and took a handkerchief that Kolbein offered. “Why didn’t you tell me he was sick? I would never have let him dance.”

“Which is why we didn’t tell you. Your father didn’t want people fussing over him. He wanted to live out his life without people fretting about his heart.”

“But dancing with me caused him to have this attack. I may well have killed him.”

“Lenore, you must stop this.” Her mother reached out and took hold of her. Several nurses hurried past them, but Mother kept her gaze fixed on Lenore. “I can’t bear to think of him dying. Oh, it’s times like this that I wish I . . . well . . . I wish I knew God better. Perhaps then I would know what He has planned and what I should do.”

The reality of the moment hit Lenore hard. Her mother had always been nominal in her spiritual beliefs. “We should pray,” Lenore said, taking hold of her mother’s hands. She glanced over her shoulder at Kolbein and her friends. “I’m not so very good at this myself. But maybe one of you might petition the Lord for us?”

“I’m not sure what to say,” Kolbein admitted. “Perhaps Wade might lead us?”

Wade nodded. “Let’s join hands.” They did and bowed their heads. “Father, we ask your blessing on Mr. Fulcher. He has suffered this attack, as you know, and we ask that you would heal him and restore him to his family. We know that difficulties like this must plague us in this world because we are fallen from that perfection you once had for us. However, we also know that you are merciful and loving. So no matter the outcome . . .” He paused for a moment. “If you restore Mr. Fulcher here or in heaven, give us the strength to endure the circumstances. Help Mrs. Fulcher and Lenore to be strong and at peace, completely assured that you are with them and will never leave them to face such storms alone. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

“Amen,” the others murmured.

Lenore felt a modicum of peace. How she wished her faith were stronger. She looked to Abrianna. “If only I had paid more attention to the sermons as you did and studied my Bible, I might be strong enough to bear this burden.”

“You are stronger than you know, Lenore. And God knows your heart. Just trust Him.”

“Trust is hard,” Mrs. Fulcher interjected. “Like Lenore, I’ve not given much attention to things of spiritual depth. I suppose now I am paying the price.”

“No,” Kolbein said, putting his arm around his soon-to-be mother-in-law. “Situations like this draw a person closer to God or send them far away in anger. Even so, dying and living are all a part of our lives. But good friends recently taught me that there is always time while we have breath to make things right with God.”

“I pray you’re right,” Mother declared. “Oh, I pray you are right.”

The doctor who’d helped at the ball came from a room across the hall. “He’s stable for now.”

Mother dropped her hold on Lenore and turned to the doctor. “Can I see him?”

“Not just yet. The hospital physician gave him some medication to help his heart, and he must rest for the time. You should be able to see him in the morning. However, he will need to remain in the hospital for a time.”

Lenore let out a long breath. She had fully expected the man to announce her father’s death. She looked to Kolbein, who offered her a reassuring smile. It was the first moment since her father’s collapse that she dared to hope.

“Will he be all right?” she asked.

“As right as a man with his condition can be,” the doctor replied. “I presume you know that your father has a weak heart.”

“We hadn’t told her,” Mother interjected, “but she knows now.”

The doctor nodded. “Good. I would suggest you two return home and get some rest. He’ll be ready to see you tomorrow.”

“But if anything happens . . .” Mother let the words trail into silence.

The doctor understood and nodded. “We would send someone to let you know.” Mother considered this for a moment and then nodded.

“Come, I’ll take you both home,” Kolbein announced.

Mother turned to him and surprised Lenore with a request of Kolbein. “Would you please stay the night with us? I’d feel better if you were there, should something happen. And, perhaps we might . . . pray again?”

“Of course,” Kolbein replied. “I would be honored to stay, and also to pray with you . . . both.”

Abrianna watched the scene unfold, feeling ever so worried for her friend. Nothing like this had ever happened to Lenore. She wasn’t accustomed to loss, and Abrianna worried that should her father die, she might not be able to bear the situation.

Wade led her from the hospital, following Lenore and Kolbein as they assisted Mrs. Fulcher into the carriage. Abrianna watched until the carriage had driven out of sight and then turned to Wade.

“Thank you for praying. It was a lovely prayer.”

“I was happy to help. Now I need to get you back home.”

“I suppose so,” she murmured. “I suppose, too, that we must take the carriage back rather than walk. Although a good long walk is exactly what I need, it would hardly be appropriate in the gown and these shoes. Goodness, but I don’t know how anyone wears shoes like this all the time.” She lifted the hem of her skirt just enough to reveal a pair of lovely silver satin heels.

Wade shook his head. “I’m certain I don’t know.” He grinned. “They look rather like torture devices.”

Abrianna nodded solemnly. “Indeed they are. I’ve never felt my little toe so pinched. I told Lenore they were too small, but she insisted they were the only thing for me to wear with this gown. So I was quite fashionable but in pain. Even so, what a positively terrible end to our evening.”

Wade signaled the carriage driver and assisted Abrianna down the hospital steps. “At least Mr. Fulcher is stable, so it’s not a complete tragedy.”

“But it will alter everything for poor Lenore. Her wedding will be postponed, and her thoughts will be consumed with guilt. I know her. She will continue to blame herself for this mishap, even though she had no way of knowing that anything was wrong with her father.”

Helping Abrianna into the carriage, Wade offered his thoughts. “Lenore will listen to you. If you tell her . . . better yet, if you show her through the Word that she can take comfort in God, perhaps she will be able to dwell on Him rather than her feelings of guilt.”

Abrianna settled into her seat and waited until Wade took his place opposite her. Now that they were alone, there was no need to crowd together on one side. Even so, she missed his closeness.

“I have to admit, I have guilty feelings of my own.”

Wade looked at her strangely. “But why?”

“I was feeling sorry for myself. I was quite immersed in envy, if the truth is told.” She shook her head. “I found myself wishing that I might have known what it was like to have a father’s love, to dance with him and know his pride in me.”

“Abrianna, if your father were alive today, he would no doubt take great pride in you. You are a remarkable young woman, and I’m proud to call you friend.”

She smiled, doing her best to put aside her feelings of sadness. “I’m proud to call you friend, as well, Mr. Ackerman. You have been quite tolerant and patient with me these many, many years. I thank you for enduring such difficulties.”

He chuckled. “It wasn’t so much of a chore, Abrianna. It was worrisome at times, but our friendship was worth the endurance.”

“I quite agree, even though you are often bossy and disparaging of my goals.” She thought to go into more detail, then fell silent. “But those are better discussed another day. For now, I’m just thankful that you are here.”