twenty-five

Zoe placed a steaming cup of tea on the table for the bishop and one in front of Abe before returning to the bed and picking up Violet.

The bishop hadn’t been in their home for more than five minutes and already Zoe was ready for him to leave. She didn’t feel that way about too many other people who came to visit, not even some of the loud and brash miners who smelled as though they’d bathed in rum. At least those fellas accepted her.

The bishop, on the other hand, was watching her like she was a bug on the wall that he’d like to either squash or toss outside. He probably didn’t think she was worthy of a man like Abe. Maybe Bishop Hills had known Lizzy and wished Abe had found someone more like her. Or maybe he was comparing her to his own wife and seeing nothing but shortcomings.

As the bishop sipped his tea, he questioned Abe about his endeavors in Yale. For all the many things that Abe did every day to love the people in the community, the bishop only seemed to point out Abe’s faults.

The longer the two conversed, the lower Abe’s shoulders sank, until Zoe wanted to step forward and speak her mind. Before she could formulate the words to defend Abe, the bishop changed the subject to the church construction plans. But as before, the bishop found fault with Abe’s ideas at every turn.

Finally, Zoe couldn’t stand in the room’s shadows any longer.

“Your Grace, pardon me for saying so”—she stepped up to the table and poured more tea in the bishop’s cup—“but Abe’s doing lots of good here in Yale. The people here love and respect him because of how much he cares for them.”

Once the words were out, she realized she sounded unpolished and uneducated, much like the people who lived in the community. But she squared her shoulders and met the bishop’s gaze anyway.

The older gentleman sat straighter, his cup poised halfway to his mouth.

“If anyone needs something, Abe’s always there willing to lend a hand. Just yesterday he helped rebuild one of the homes damaged in the recent fire in—”

“Thank you for the kind words, Zoe,” Abe said hurriedly. “But the bishop and I have different perspectives on how a minister should fill his spare time.”

From the furrow in Abe’s brow, Zoe sensed she wasn’t helping matters. Even so, she felt as though she needed to defend him. “Abe fits right in with the people here, never putting on any airs, and they love him for it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Merivale.” The bishop’s voice contained annoyance rather than gratitude. “However, as this concerns matters far above your reasoning and understanding, you should stick with the tasks to which you are suited—taking care of your home. And, of course, the infant.”

Violet, who was in the midst of gnawing her fist on the bed, stopped and babbled, as if voicing her concerns too. If the bishop hadn’t been there, Zoe would have remarked on it to Abe, and they likely would have shared a laugh.

“Speaking of the native infant.” Bishop Hills eyed the child with undisguised disdain. “Mr. Merivale, I hope you are making good efforts at locating a permanent home among the natives as I instructed you to do.”

Zoe’s spine stiffened. “Violet lives with us. She’s our child now.”

“This is only a temporary arrangement.” The bishop waved his hand at the cabin interior. “I was quite clear about that during my last meeting with Mr. Merivale.”

“You’re mistaken, Your Grace. Abe and I are keeping Violet and raising her.” After the past weeks of living in Yale, Zoe had almost begun to forget Violet wasn’t her flesh and blood. She loved the little girl. And Abe had grown attached too. He couldn’t deny it. Surely he wasn’t planning to find a new home for Violet.

“Bishop Hills, I realize you consider our arrangement with the baby unnatural.” Abe’s expression was grave, which only made Zoe’s heart pound harder. “However, as you can see, we’re having no trouble caring for Violet. She fits right into our family. Moreover, the people here in Yale have been very accepting of her.”

“The people here may be accepting, as they are mostly of a baser nature. What about your parish in Yorkshire? I doubt your parishioners there will be so indulgent.”

“Surely they will love Violet as one of God’s little children,” Abe said, but his voice lacked confidence.

“You will not be able to take the child with you,” the bishop insisted. “She might fit in here in the colony, but she most certainly will be an anomaly in England. Most people wouldn’t be able to accept her as your child and would likely shun you as a result. The matter would most surely cause a great deal of scandal.”

Zoe hugged Violet closer. “I don’t care what people think.”

“You may not care, Mrs. Merivale. But Mr. Merivale could very well bring disgrace to himself and the church. And as a result would find himself without a parish and ruin his chances for any advancement. If your husband’s well-being isn’t enough, then think of the child having to grow up in such an environment. She would be ostracized and ridiculed and would never fit into society.”

The bishop’s words cut off any further protest Zoe could offer. The bishop was right. Violet would be an oddity in England. Wherever she went, people would stop to stare or whisper. What kind of life would that be for Violet?

Abe watched Zoe with somber eyes.

“We’ll stay here,” Zoe stated. “We don’t have to leave and go back to England.” Even though Abe had informed her of his intentions, she’d secretly been hoping that when his assignment came to an end, he wouldn’t want to leave, that he’d stay. Now, with the difficulty in taking Violet with them, this would make their decision easier, wouldn’t it?

“Mr. Merivale most certainly cannot remain here in the colonies if he wishes to be chosen as a bishop. He knows his service here is merely a stepping stone for greater work within the church.”

A stepping stone for greater work? Zoe couldn’t contradict the bishop. Abe’s compassion and energy were boundless. He was already doing great things for the Lord, and she had no doubt he would do even more once he became a bishop.

Abe bent his head and closed his eyes, and Zoe guessed he was either discouraged by the turn of the conversation or he was praying. Or perhaps both.

“That is precisely the point I have been attempting to emphasize, Mr. Merivale,” the bishop continued sternly. “You must always consider future implications. Your hasty wedding and your poor choice of a marriage partner have already placed your chances at becoming a bishop in jeopardy. As such, you cannot afford to do anything else to stain your reputation, including keeping the native child.”

“Pardon me, Your Grace. But Zoe is not a poor choice.” Abe stood and shoved his chair back, his arms and shoulders rigid. “Nor is she a stain on my reputation.”

Even with Abe’s defense, the bishop’s words chopped into Zoe’s heart. Poor choice of marriage partner? Stain on Abe’s reputation? Although she’d known Bishop Hills wasn’t happy about the marriage, she hadn’t realized exactly how displeased he was or the repercussions Abe would face as a result of marrying her.

The bishop pushed away from the table. “Let us be frank, Mr. Merivale. You know as well as I do that when you return to England, people will have a difficult time accepting a mill girl as your wife. You will already have enough obstacles to overcome, and bringing home a native infant will only make matters more difficult.”

The muscles in Abe’s jaw flexed as though he wanted to reply but was holding himself back.

“Since the two of you clearly have a great deal to discuss, I shall take my leave.” The bishop took a final sip of tea, placed his cup on the table, and then rose from his chair.

“Do take care, Mr. Merivale,” the bishop said as he crossed to the door. “It is rumored that Mr. Dawson is planning another altercation with you.”

“Dexter Dawson?” Abe asked.

“The man you fought with before leaving Victoria.” Bishop Hills’s eyes filled with censure. “If he seeks you out, you must absolutely refrain from any more fighting. You know as well as I do that such interactions are not befitting your holy station and are a detriment to your aspirations of becoming a bishop.”

“I realize that. And I have no intention of quarreling.”

“Good. See that you refrain from all appearance of evil.”

A moment later, when the door closed behind the bishop, Zoe collapsed into the nearest chair. She hugged Violet to her chest as if that was the answer to all their problems, but the infant released a cry of protest, wiggling so that she could resume playing with the buttons on Zoe’s bodice.

Abe remained unmoving, staring at the door.

A mill girl. The bishop had spoken the words as if they were a curse.

She appreciated Abe’s defense. He was a good man. But maybe she was no good for him. From the start of their marriage she’d realized she wasn’t the typical genteel, well-bred pastor’s wife. Now she understood even more starkly Abe’s need for a woman who was his equal so that when he returned to England he could enter into a new parish without the condemnation he was sure to receive with his marriage to her—a mill girl.

Not only would their marriage make his work as a minister difficult, but it would diminish his opportunity of becoming a bishop. His dreams and future plans were in jeopardy because of her. Maybe he didn’t recognize the issues now. But someday he’d realize she was to blame for the censure and missed opportunities. And no doubt, he’d come to resent her for being a blight on his promising future.

In addition to everything else, they also had to think about Violet’s future.

Zoe pressed a kiss against the infant’s downy hair, fighting back an ache at the prospect of losing the babe. “Why didn’t you tell me the bishop wasn’t planning to let you keep Violet?”

Abe expelled a long, weary sigh. “I didn’t know until after we were already married, and then he gave me the ultimatum of returning her to the natives by spring.”

“So all along you’ve been making plans to find another home for her?”

“No,” he said quickly, his attention landing upon Violet. “I honestly haven’t given the bishop’s ultimatum much thought. Maybe at the back of my mind, I’d hoped the bishop would see how well she fit into our lives and put aside his demand. Or maybe I was hoping he’d forget all about it, and we could go on as we pleased.”

“I think it’s safe to say neither of those things happened.”

“I’m sorry, Zoe.” His shoulders drooped.

She could admit all of the bishop’s reasons for finding Violet a home here in British Columbia made perfect sense. Violet wouldn’t thrive in England. And Zoe knew she wouldn’t like living there again either.

But here . . . here they were free, free to grow unhindered, free to live as they chose. Sure, there would still be people who judged and discriminated. But she’d learned the harsh wilderness of this new land put them all on more level ground.

Abe rubbed at the back of his neck. “Maybe I can make a trip up into the canyon and search again for my friend Sque-is. If he won’t take Violet, maybe he’ll know someone who can.”

Violet had hold of one of Zoe’s buttons and was trying to put it into her mouth. Under other circumstances, Zoe would have laughed at the infant’s antics. But this time, tears stung at the back of her eyes. She bent and kissed Violet’s head again.

“I don’t think I can give her up, Abe.” Zoe’s throat was tight with unshed tears.

“I know,” he whispered hoarsely in response. “But we have to do what’s right for Violet.”

She nodded and swiped at a tear that had escaped.

Maybe she had to do what was right for Abe too. With everything the bishop had revealed about how she would hurt his opportunities in England, maybe it was time to admit their marriage had been a mistake, give him an annulment, and stop holding him back.

With the coming of spring, she could find someone to take her and Violet up the Fraser Canyon to Williamsville. Once there, she’d track down Zeke, beg him to forgive her, and ask if she could live with him.

And if Zeke wasn’t there . . . or if he refused to forgive her . . . then she’d have to figure out how to survive without him. She’d do it. She was strong enough.

The only trouble was whether she could survive leaving Abe. Because the truth was, whether she admitted it to herself or not, she didn’t want to leave him. Just the thought of walking away was torture, and she couldn’t imagine actually doing it.

But because she cared about him so much, she suspected the time was fast approaching when she’d have to do the impossible.