A Love to Heal a Broken Heart: An Inspirational Historical Western Romance Book Read online

  But what Jodi was to become, she could not guess even as it was happening.

  God, she thought, faith, surely the answer lays somewhere in those divine secrets. Is that what I’m here to learn, that my life was entirely misguided all this time?That I should have been pursuing a more righteous life?

  Jodi could imagine herself in a nun’s habit, perhaps standing at the head of a classroom of children. Either would be a wholesome life, worthwhile, helpful to the community and honorable in the eyes of God. Those would be worthy lives, but something about the notions did not ring true in Jodi’s heart or her mind or her soul.

  But the idea of simply marrying some other man, one she hardly knew, for the sake of something she still could hardly understand seemed even more hollow. I won’t marry simply because society expects me to, Jodi silently determined. Amy would never do such a thing, and neither will I. If I am meant to be alone then I shall be; if I am meant to love and be loved, then I shall be so! God will see to the broad strokes, and I shall be ready for whatever the details require.

  Jodi’s true destiny lay ahead of her, though she could still not see it clearly. Surely God was creating something new, but she could not perceive it.

  Chapter 5

  Jodi was going about her chores, enjoying the warm spring sun over Rhode Island. Hanging the wet laundry on the line to dry, Jodi was able to preoccupy herself and not have to think too much about life after Giles.

  It hadn’t been easy.

  People in town were looking at her askance; some sadly, with arching, furrowed brows, others shaking their heads or turning away. It was as if Giles leaving her for her cousin, Alice, was somehow Jodi’s fault. She had begun to wonder the same thing herself.

  Maybe there’s something wrong with me, Jodi had started to ask herself while going about her sundries shopping and other chores in town. Did I fail Giles somehow? Did I betray Alice and force her to do this? Perhaps I’m just not lovable, that nobody will ever truly love me. Surely, some poor souls must go without. Not everybody goes about in a happy coupling, after all. Maybe God simply intends for me to be one of those solemn spinsters, a lone soul in a world of conjoined soulmates.

  And she’d stayed out of town for other good reasons, too; namely Giles and Alice themselves. Jodi knew that every trip into town held a risk of bumping into them, something Jodi dreaded. She hadn’t even spoken to Alice in the weeks since Giles broke the news. Alice hadn't approached her, and Jodi certainly didn’t want to approach Alice, lest she be taken for aggressive or angry. She didn't want to approach her in prostration either, of course, as if it really had been Jodi’s own fault.

  Jodi’s conscience had told her to go to her cousin and wish her well with Giles, to tell her that their family bond would always be strong. But when it first happened, the pain had been too great. Jodi had retired to the safety of the home, then only went out with the greatest of both need and courage.

  As the weeks went on, it just became easier to ignore the whole matter, to let that sleeping dog lie. If and when I see her, Jodi told herself, I’ll tell her then. But with no word from Alice, and an increasing disinterest in seeing her cousin, Jodi couldn't be sure when or if that would ever happen.

  When an envelope arrived with her name and address written in a familiar hand, Jodi couldn’t help but smile. But then she recalled the bad news she’d shared with Amy in her last letter, the generally somber tone. Jodi opened the letter, not looking forward to her best friend’s pity, even if Jodi knew her words would be comforting.

  My dearest friend, Jodi,

  My heart aches to read your last letter. And I am shocked at the turn of events! I know you and your cousin were never very close, but even so! And Giles had seemed like such a good man, so worthy. Well, it only goes to demonstrate that the secrets of a person’s heart are not always what they seem… lest they not be secrets at all!

  I know you spoke words of courage and faith, and that gratifies me. But I also know that you must surely be in pain. I can only hope that your selfsame courage and faith has brought you some solace in the weeks since you felt to write me that sad communique.

  Perhaps some good news for me will raise your spirits, I hope so! For it is very good news, indeed. Not only is my marriage to Clinton strong and satisfying for us both, but I have just discovered that we are in the family way! I expect my child to be born in this November. Clinton and I are both so excited, though we know it won’t be easy.

  Clinton and I agree, in fact, that you would be a wonderful addition to our household during this time. We have plenty of room, and I would so appreciate your company. The midwife thinks I may not have an easy time of it, it would seem.

  We hope you’ll accept our invitation and come out with the greatest dispatch. I am so anxious to see you again, my lovely friend. Please give my love to your admirable parents and let us know by wire if you can and wish to come to New Mexico, and when we can expect you. If you need any assistance with the arrangements, we will take care of them.

  Yours in Christ,

  Amy.

  *

  “Please, Father! I want very much to go!” Jodi sat on the loveseat in her father's study. Ellen sat next to her, holding her daughter’s hands.

  But Martin paced around the little study, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t doubt it, Daughter. But… alone on a train, all the way to New Mexico?”

  “It’s not dangerous,” Jodi argued, “not terribly so.”

  Martin glared at her. “These trains are being robbed, Jodi!”

  Ellen said, “It’s very rare, Husband. And even more rare for any civilians to be hurt.” Martin stared at his wife as if struck dumb, unable to ask why she’d be so interested in sending their daughter more than halfway across the country. “Her friend needs help, Martin.”

  “I’m sure she’s got a midwife,” Martin pointed out with his usual distaste. “What the girl needs is a proper physician. And you should know better than anyone that a physician’s daughter is no reasonable substitute!”

  “Of course not, Father. And as far as I know, she has a midwife, who says she may have a hard pregnancy. I want to be able to help her, if I can.”

  “Then send her my professional recommendation and be done with it. That’s the best service you can do for her, to stay out of it.”

  Ellen shook her head. “Oh, Husband.”

  “Do not Oh, Husband me! What’s this child going to do for her pregnant friend? And what are you going to do for her?”

  Jodi ventured, “Whatever I can, of course.”

  A long, thoughtful silence passed, but Martin’s expression didn’t seem to be softening. Ellen’s hands tightened around Jodi’s. “I do not doubt that you wish to help your friend,” Martin said with a deliberately calm tone. “I know how long you two have known each other, how much you mean to one another. However, I hope you will admit that there is more to your desire to go to New Mexico, things which have nothing to do with your friend’s condition.”

  Jodi knew he was right, and she wasn’t about to lie to her father about that. But before she could say anything, her mother was quick to speak in her defense.

  “Things have become difficult for her here, Husband. Her friends, Giles and Alice—this isn’t the place for her, not at the moment.”

  Martin stopped pacing and turned to his wife. “But here you reveal the entire weakness of your position, my wife. Do we want the child to run from her every difficulty? Is that what manner of a family we are? Or do we face our problems head-on?”

  Ellen asked him, “What can she do? There’s no solution to the matter of Giles and Alice. And to linger here, in the shadow of that cruelty, it’s… it’s not reasonable, Martin.”

  “Reasonable? I’ve never been less than reasonable, Ellen. In fact, I am the one being practical.”

  Jodi interjected, “I am twenty-three years old, Father. I’m not a child. There’s a matter of personal freedom, as well.”

 
“That’s true,” Martin conceded. “But you are also a ward in my care, a resident of my home, and you bear my name!”

  “Husband!”

  “It’s no matter of… of propriety,” Martin continued, softening his tone. “I love you, Jodi, it is my job, my duty, and my desire to prevent harm from coming to you, whatever your age!”

  “But the harm to our daughter comes from this place,” Ellen argued, “things that happened here, things that go on happening here.”

  “Then perhaps this is where God wishes her to be!”

  A long, thoughtful pause filled the study, Martin sighing and once again rubbing the back of his neck. “I do not wish for you to be unhappy, Jodi.”

  Jodi’s heart sank to hear such a thing. “Yes, Father, and I do not wish to disrespect you.” Jodi thought about Amy, how strong-willed she could be, stubborn. But Jodi was never that kind of person, and this was not the time or place to experiment with new ways of communicating—especially not with Martin Hoffman.

  “She needs time away, Martin.”

  He gave it some thought, then nodded. “I will give you my blessing, Jodi. But there are conditions.” Jodi clutched tighter to her mother's hands. “Firstly, you promise to wire us upon your arrival, and regularly thereafter… so your mother doesn't have to worry for your wellbeing.”

  Jodi cracked a smile and nodded. “Secondly,” Martin went on, “You will represent the family with the greatest decorum at all times.”

  “Of course she will, Husband.”

  “Thirdly,” Martin pronounced, “I do not want you to simply run away from your difficulties with your cousin and Giles.”

  “She’s already had to do with Giles, Husband.”

  “But not Alice.” Jodi’s heart sank a bit with a cold knot in her stomach as her father persisted. “If you wish to go to New Mexico, you will first go to your cousin and give her your blessing to marry Giles.”

  “Oh, Husband.”

  “I will not be moved on the issue,” Martin declared, turning his attention to Jodi. “Trust me, Daughter, though you will not look forward to it, I promise you will look back on it with a considerably warmer feeling.”

  Jodi knew he was right, at least in part. She was most certainly not looking forward to it.

  Chapter 6

  Jodi took the family carriage across Providence to the small home owned by her cousin, Alice Tremont. The place was quiet, the property echoing with the loneliness which had haunted Alice her entire life. But even weeks in the glow of her new premarital bliss with Giles didn't seem to have lifted the shadow looming over the property.

  Alice must have seen Jodi coming, as she stepped out of the front door to greet her as the carriage rolled up. She looked well enough to Jodi's eyes; face aging a bit more than her twenty-four years would suggest, hair black and pulled back from her big, brown eyes. She smiled as Jodi rolled up, but Jodi could tell it was a forced, awkward expression.

  “Jodi, hello.”

  “Alice,” Jodi said, pulling the horse to a stop and climbing down from the carriage. She took Alice’s hand. “I… I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner.”

  “No, please,” Alice replied clumsily, pointing at her house. “Come in.” Jodi followed her into the pleasant little house, nicely decorated with local artifacts and paintings.

  Jodi said, “The house looks good, much the way your... your parents left it.”

  Alice looked around, nodding. "It helps me to feel that they're still here, somehow.”

  A long, sad silence filled the big living room as Alice led her to the sofa and they both sat down. “We’re coming up on the anniversary of the accident, aren't we?”

  Again, Alice nodded. “I try not to think about it. Every time I smell burning wood, I… Well, I won’t even burn a fire in the fireplace. Can you imagine?” Alice cracked a sad and embarrassed smile.

  “I can,” Jodi responded, sorrow and sympathy welling up in her. Alice was vulnerable and lonely, and all at once Jodi could see what Giles was attracted to, at least in part. She’d been orphaned, married, and then widowed all in the course of almost two years; parents to a fire, husband to consumption.

  Truly,Alice had reason to be sad and lonely. More so than I, Jodi had to silently admit. How can I begrudge whatever happiness she may find in this world? Perhaps Giles was right and this truly is God's intention for us all, at least for them.

  “Why I’m here, Alice—”

  “No, Jodi, you needn’t explain. I’ve dreaded your coming, the shame of having to face you. Whatever your feelings, about me or Giles or our union, I do not contradict or deny or refute them. You have every right to be upset, unforgivingly so. And if you've come to chastise me, with however much vigor, I will accept it. You have that right, at least.”

  Jodi sighed, unsure of how much to say, how honest to be with that fragile soul sitting next to her. “Well, at first, I was a bit... taken aback, I cannot lie.”

  “Please don’t,” Alice encouraged, “promise me your rage, your fury!”

  “No, Alice, no, I have no rage nor fury. I've come to give you my blessings, you and Giles both.”

  Alice leaned forward a bit. “Jodi?”

  Jodi’s words came to her brain and tongue almost more quickly than she could control them. “I admit, there is a lot to take in with all this, but… that’s the nature of life, I suppose. It's not always what we expected, but it is often quite a delightful mystery to watch unfold.”

  Alice turned away and murmured, “Quite often not.”

  “That’s true, Alice, but if this is your opportunity for happiness, then I want you to have it, and to savor it. And if Giles is in love with you and not me, then I insist you be married and I would refuse him outright. I cannot nor will I marry a man who does not love me, or whom I do not love.”

  “Nor should you,” Alice agreed.

  “And any two who do love really ought to be married, must be married.”

  Alice shrugged. “It’s a matter of respect, to each other, to society, to God—”

  “It is, Alice, quite so. And I'd never have you disrespect God… or anyone.”

  Alice smiled, and it seemed uncomfortable, unfamiliar to her. “Jodi, I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear this. These weeks, I've dreamed of your contempt, it’s haunted me every second.”

  Jodi tapped her hand reassuringly. “Then be haunted no longer, Alice. Be free to be happy, to be married; and know that, after all, we still are and will always be family.”

  Chapter 7

  Jodi sat in the B&O Railroad car, rolling westward. The train bumped and jostled her a bit, which wasn’t so bad, at first. But after two days, it was starting to get to her. It only occurred to Jodi as she pulled out of that train station back in New York that the nation’s former capital had been the furthest she’d ever been from Providence.

  She’d certainly never been out west, but she’d heard a lot about it, much of what her father had also heard. There were still Indians of various tribes, and many of them were said to seethe with hatred for the White Man and with desire for the White Woman. The west was said to be populated with cutthroats, gunmen, banditos. And those were not the only predators. Wolves, coyotes, rattlesnakes, cougars, bears—animals which had learned to keep away from cities on the East Coast were still comfortable with the rustic environs of those under-developed deserts.

  And there were other horrors to report, as far as Jodi had heard; crazy weather patterns that could pick up an entire building and hurl it into the air; heat so strong it was said to have the power to cook a man to death. The desert sands were said to be strewn with bones, and there were places where there was no water at all.