Chapter 7

On Wednesday, Melody used her midday break to run to the bank for their weekly money. Da said he'd be busy all morning and asked her to take care of going to the bank, as well as stopping by the mercantile on her way home that day. Melody had no idea what was going to occupy him, but he seemed to have his thoughts elsewhere. Perhaps he was interviewing potential suitors. After all, they needed to move quickly. On the other hand, he had still said nothing about the letter from Uncle David.

The bank was unusually quiet when she entered. A quick glance at the large lobby clock revealed five minutes past the noon hour.

"Hello?" She saw nothing of Jefferson, and the door to the president's office was closed. She thought perhaps she'd leave, but then the door opened and two men exited. One was Charlie, and he shook hands with the other.

"I'll look forward to hearing back from you, Mr. Dawes."

"I should have all the information by Friday." With that, the man turned to go. He spied Melody and tipped his hat. "Ma'am."

Melody nodded with a smile and waited for him to leave before approaching Charlie. "I've come to withdraw some money from our savings," she told him.

"How's your father feeling?" Charlie asked as he made his way to the teller's cage.

"He's doing well, thank you for asking." She pushed a slip of paper to him with the amount she needed written down. Charlie glanced at it, then went to work getting the money and noting the withdrawal in the ledger.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said after counting out the money in front of her.

Melody slipped the cash into her little purse. "Da's got a strong constitution and a heart of gold."

"From what little chance I've had to talk to him, I have to say I found him to be quite amiable. His faith is clearly revealed in his actions and speech."

"It wasn't always so. Before Da found the Lord, he was always drinking and fighting. He once told me that people in five counties of Ireland regretted seeing him come their way."

"Well, he certainly changed for the better."

She nodded with a smile. "He did, to be sure. God nearly had to kill him to get his attention, but Da finally learned his lesson and changed his tune. Now he's better than most men. And I don't just say that because he's my da."

"Of course not. I wouldn't say such things about my father, necessarily. He's not a bad man, just very serious and driven in regard to his goals and accomplishments. I fear he may have never truly enjoyed his life for even a single day."

"That is something very sad. My da taught me early on that life should be enjoyed, as well as worked."

"I agree with him. If there is nothing but strict adherence to work, we suffer in other areas. In our spiritual well-being, for instance. I think we should devote time to spiritual renewal. My father thinks that kind of thought is a waste of time. He believes God will show us what He will and draw from us the things He wants. Otherwise, prayers and spiritual meditations should be left to Sunday services."

"I know a great many people who are like that. They put God in a trunk until they need Him. That would never work for me. If I didn't have my quiet time with God, I doubt I could face tomorrow or even the rest of the day."

"I agree. There is just something special about sitting with God in the still of the morning. Then taking time to reflect on His mercy and goodness through the day. I recall to mind some Scripture or promise He's given, and it bolsters my spirit." Charlie closed the ledger book. "Some folks would call me overly religious, I suppose."

"I wouldn't. In fact, your words could well be my own." Melody hoped he didn't think her forward. "I would go so far as to say our hearts are one on that matter."

Charlie smiled. "It does me good to hear you say as much. It's a comfort knowing someone understands, especially when living so far away from friends and family."

"Well, you have a friend in me, Charlie Decker. You needn't fear being alone. You should stop by and see Da sometime. He loves a rousing game of checkers and to tell tales of Ireland. You might find yourself completely entertained."

"I might at that. I'll try to take you up on the offer as soon as possible."

Melody bid him good day and headed back to the Coopers' house. She checked in with Mrs. Cooper, then went immediately to work in the garden. Mr. Cooper had ordered a load of manure, and she had promised to help spread it around the garden.

Working in the garden was another moment when Melody found time to meditate upon God and pray. She hadn't done much gardening here in Cheyenne, but elsewhere she had learned quite a bit about growing fruits and vegetables. Potatoes had always been a mainstay to her Irish ancestors, and now in America was no exception. Da loved potatoes in almost any form. A good boiled potato with a few pinches of salt was an entire meal to him. Melody had already made sure to plant several hills of potatoes in the community garden near their tent, knowing they would benefit the others if she and Da moved on. Mrs. Cooper was anxious to get her potatoes planted as well.

Melody and Mr. Cooper had managed to thoroughly mix the manure into the plowed soil when Marybeth Vogel and her daughter, Carrie, arrived.

"I brought those potato eyes," Marybeth announced, holding up a bulging flour sack. Carrie had a smaller sack and held hers up as well.

"Perfect timing. I was just getting ready to make rows. I should be able to have all of those planted in no time at all." Melody went to where Carrie stood. "Thank you for bringing me potatoes, Miss Carrie."

"You welcome." Carrie grinned and handed her sack over to Melody.

"I'm glad you found the Hendersons' already had these drying. That saves a lot of time," Melody said, coming to take the sack from Marybeth as well.

"Edward and I planted quite a few hills. Should have a large crop just for ourselves. I told Mrs. Cooper that we would definitely have plenty left over if she wanted them."

"With the boarders, they use a lot of potatoes. We have them most every evening and sometimes with breakfast." Melody took the bags to a wooden table and deposited them. "What else are you and Miss Carrie doing today?"

"We've been quite busy," Marybeth replied. "Sorry we missed your birthday last Monday. Carrie and I have been making you a present."

"Oh, you didn't need to do that. Da and I celebrated by eating out, and it was quite good. Then Da surprised me with my gift. He always comes up with unusual ones. This year he gave me stock in the UP. He said it wasn't worth a lot just yet, but it would be, and I should hold on to it and even add to it if I have the chance."

"And how goes the search for a husband?" Marybeth asked, her expression showing doubt.

"I have no idea. Da told me he had been approached by quite a number of gentlemen. He's still making his choices."

"Oh my. Doesn't that make you nervous?"

Melody shrugged. "It did at first, but then I remembered that I don't have to pursue any of the men. If none of the men Da deems acceptable strikes me as a match, then I'll just move on with Da."

"But I want very much for you to stay here."

"I want that too." Melody had never wanted anything more.

"I wanna dig," Carrie announced.

Melody went to the gardening table and took up a small gardening shovel. She brought it to Carrie. "Here you go. Dig all you want." She glanced over Carrie at Marybeth. "Oh dear, I forgot to ask if that was all right with you."

"It's fine," Marybeth laughed. "She's quite good at digging."

As if to prove it, Carrie immediately went to work. Melody watched for a moment, then clapped her hands. "Very good, Miss Carrie. You dig very well."

"I dig and dig," Carrie replied, never stopping in her work.

Melody couldn't help but chuckle. "She's very helpful. May you have a dozen more just like her."

"Not a dozen, hopefully, but I'd settle for a few more. What about you?"

"I've always wanted to be a mother," Melody admitted. "I figured by twenty-six I'd already have three or four, but it hasn't been what God had planned. I'm trying my best to be content with how things are, but I have to admit there are times when I feel quite empty at the sight of others with babes in their arms."

"Me too." Marybeth met Melody's gaze. "I'm so hoping we'll have children."

"I know, and I'm praying that for you as well." Melody knew that Marybeth had raised her little sister since she was an infant. But it wasn't the same. Marybeth wanted to have Edward's children and to know what it was to carry that life inside of her own body. Carrie was special, and would always be so, but Melody understood how Marybeth felt.

For a long moment neither woman said anything, but the unspoken longing seemed to wrap around them.

"I'm praying for just the right husband," Marybeth said. "Someone you can love and who will love you as you deserve. I know you want to stay behind when your father moves on—I want that too—but even more I want love for you. I want you to fall in love with the right man and for him to love you as you deserve. You've become like a sister to me, and I can confide in you that a marriage of convenience is not nearly as satisfying as one of true love."

"I'm sure you're right." Melody glanced away to where Carrie continued her labors. She had prayed for God to send just the right man and for his love to be sincere. She would continue to pray for God's grace to make her the right woman with the amount of love that her husband would need. The proposition Da had recommended wasn't a simple one, to be sure, but Melody trusted both her earthly father and her heavenly one. Neither had ever let her down.

"And why would ya be wantin' to marry me daughter," Clancy Doyle asked Jefferson Lane.

Jefferson hadn't been sure he even wanted a wife, but with Melody's hand up for grabs, he thought it couldn't hurt to consider the matter. After all, the Doyles had a considerable amount of money in the bank that he hoped would be used for a dowry, and Jefferson needed a thousand dollars to prove to his father that he was successful so that the man would match it. Just the thought of having that kind of money at his disposal was enough to make Jefferson consider marriage to Melody Doyle.

"I find Melody a very amiable person. She's kind to everyone she meets, and my mother taught me that such a quality was important. God calls us to love one another, and you certainly cannot do that without kindness. Not only that, sir, but she's beautiful, and when I see her, my heart beats a bit quicker." He smiled. "I've long been moved by her grace and beauty."

"And for sure I'd be wantin' me son-in-law to find his wife appealin'," Mr. Doyle said, his expression quite stern.

Jefferson sat only inches from the tent flap opening, but every muscle in his body felt ready to spring if the older man so much as made a threatening move. He supposed Mr. Doyle sensed his uneasiness and probably used it to his advantage. Folks all around town knew Mr. Doyle was quite capable in a fight. He had a reputation for putting men much bigger than himself on the ground. But only with cause. It was often conceded that Mr. Doyle was never one to be fighting just for the sake of fighting. With that in mind, Jefferson didn't intend to give the man any reason to want to fight him.

"And are ya a God-fearin' man, Mr. Lane?"

Jefferson had been expecting this question. He didn't attend church, and Mr. Doyle would no doubt know that for himself.

"I am God-fearing," Jefferson began. "However, I'm not religious. I haven't yet found a church that I felt at home in. My mother trained me in the ways of God and the Bible when I was young, and when I was older my father did as well. I put my trust in God long ago and know that the Bible says salvation comes alone through Jesus. I'm certainly not opposed to attending church, but not having been here even a year, I find it easier to study the Bible at home on Sunday." The mix of truth and lies was easy enough for Jefferson to share.

"A man is a fool who stands as his own counsel." Mr. Doyle's eyes narrowed slightly. "However, I do understand yar thinkin'. I've been there meself. I'd encourage ya to come join us at the Methodist services on Sunday night. We meet at the school."

"Yes, I know. Melody invited me to attend on Easter. I didn't make it because I was feeling under the weather. However, I hope to go this Sunday."

Jefferson could see that his answer helped Doyle to relax a bit. He knew from comments others had made that the older man was definitely firm on his beliefs about God. He had known from his first thoughts to seek Melody as a wife that he would have to convince both that he was a man of God. Given his background, Jefferson knew all the right things to say and do. It shouldn't be that hard to convince them of his sincerity.

"And ya have a good job, do ya, Mr. Lane?" the interview continued.

"I do. I work for Cheyenne Savings and Loan. I've been managing it since the owner's son fell ill and had to move back to Chicago. Now another son has come to take the helm, but he's very much dependent upon me."

"And do ya like what ya do there?" Clancy Doyle's gaze never left Jefferson's face. It seemed the man was looking straight into Jefferson's soul.

"I do, for the most part. I enjoy meeting the folks from town and helping them with their needs. I've studied money handling and bookkeeping and find it very satisfying when all those ledgers add up and match." Jefferson smiled. At least that much was true.

"And what about a home, Mr. Lane. Would ya be livin' in a place of yar own or a rented apartment?"

"I currently live in a small apartment, but my savings are growing every day, and I intend to purchase a home of my own in the near future." Another lie, but hopefully the older man wouldn't realize it. Besides, what should it matter if Jefferson wanted to remain in the rented place? It was his decision as the head of the house, not Clancy Doyle's as father to the bride.

Clancy took out his pocket watch and checked it. "I'll have to be askin' ya to go now. Me daughter will be comin' home most any time. It's best that she not be here for the interviews until I figure out which men are worthy of her courtship."

Jefferson jumped up, quite anxious to leave. "I appreciate that you would consider me, sir."

Melody's father looked him over one more time, leaving Jefferson with the distinct feeling of being livestock at auction. It really was ridiculous that in this day and age a woman would be managed in such a way. Worse still, that he should have to endure it for the sake of marrying someone with money.