CHAPTER 12

C HAPTE R 12

Time marched on and Ava's life took on a new outlook. Each day, she worked at the hotel from ten until three, helping with lunch and preparations for the supper meal. She marveled at the food she produced while apprenticing under the skilled tutor. From the occasional slip of the tongue, she drew the conclusion that Orson had encouraged the chef to give her a chance, and after meeting the cook briefly that first day in the restaurant, the man had agreed. Chef Platie must have somehow seen the hidden genius Ava possessed but never knew she had. The meals she turned out from tried-and-true recipes, in addition to the new ones she experimented with, became the talk of Blazer. Patrons flocked to the hotel to eat, and Chef Platie gave Ava the credit, saying they were an excellent team.

Even though young Sheena could be a handful of mischief at times, she took on the role of clearing the tables after customers had left the diner and washing their dirty dishes. She was a joy to have in the kitchen, passing the time while her father worked feverishly to complete his construction project. Each Sunday afternoon, Orson would take Ava and Sheena to the site to show them the latest developments. The structure was taking on a massive and showy form, and Ava considered the full, covered porch that faced the lake to be its finest feature. The buyer was certainly getting her money's worth, and Orson seemed thrilled at the new design Ava's dream house had helped him fashion. Each week, Sheena and Ava would throw in another detail to further enhance the house, and it soon became a fun project involving the three of them.

The regular picnics there by the lake, watching Sheena play in the shallow water while she and Orson dipped their feet in and splashed each other as if they were children, were the highlights of Ava's week. She was falling in love with the Shilling family, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the heartbreak when they moved back home.

It was Wednesday and the lunch crowd had filtered out of the dining room. Sheena and Blanche were gathering dishes from the tables while Ava stirred up the batter for a lemon cake when the sound of shattering dishes reached the kitchen.

Ava put up her hands to stop the chef from joining her to see which of the girls had caused the clatter. "I'll go. I feared the youngsters might load their trays too full and have an accident with the dishes one day. Please, take the price off my wages."

Ava hurried from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron as she fled the room to investigate the clatter. She stopped dead in her tracks when she witnessed an older woman holding a stunned Sheena by the ear and twisting it until the child's knees buckled, and she squirmed in agony. The tray of broken dishes lay scattered at their feet.

"Let her go," Ava shouted after the shock of viewing such behavior in the hotel had diminished somewhat.

The woman whirled around and glared at Ava, who stood her ground.

"And who might you be?" she stated, releasing her hold on the child.

Sheena shifted out of harm's reach and spoke; "That's Miss Gardner. Me and my friend Blanche, are helping her out in the kitchen." She ducked from a swat that nearly missed the back of her head.

The woman was abusive, yet Sheena appeared to know her.

"The Miss Gardner your father praises?" the woman asked the child.

"Yes, Granny. She's the one Papa loves."

Ava gulped down that unexpected piece of information. Apparently, he'd vocalized his feelings to his daughter and his mother, but he'd forgotten to tell her.

The woman came closer, and her study of Ava grew quite uncomfortable. "You work here? "

"Yes, I do. Would you be Orson's mother…in the flesh?" Ava said, determined to keep control.

"I just came in on the stagecoach. Such a horrid trip," she said, wiping invisible dust from her gown. "My dress is now only fit for the rag bag."

"I'm sure it can be cleansed back to its original beauty, Mrs. Shilling." Ava said, annoyed at such a fuss. "The hotel has a laundry service."

"Thank goodness this tiny town offers at least some of the comforts of home." She turned to her granddaughter while pointing to the mess on the floor. "See? This is why children should not dabble in grown-up affairs. Apologize to Miss Gardner, then take me upstairs to our suite." She gave Ava one final glance before grabbing the child and walking out the door. "Put this breakage on Orson's bill," she said and then was gone, half dragging a reluctant Sheena by the arm. The girl glanced back and shrugged her shoulders. Ava took it to mean that Granny's presence had come as a surprise. Ava wondered where that would place her in the mix. It was clear the woman liked to rule the roost, and she appeared to have a strong hold on her son and his daughter.

Orson stopped the buggy in front of the Yaggers' and jumped down from the driver's seat. It had been a good day at the job. The new roof had closed in the bulk of the house to protect it from any bad weather.

Ava answered his first knock, came out on the porch, and shut the door behind her. "Your daughter is not here."

"Oh? Did you leave her with the sitter at the hotel?"

"I left her with her grandmother at the hotel, and reluctantly, I might add."

He was confused. "My mother would not set foot in South Dakota for anything. How do you know it was her?"

"Sheena introduced us."

He noted that her responses were short and standoffish in manner. "And leaving Sheena with her grandmother upset you?"

"I do not wish to badmouth anyone, particularly your mother, Orson, but her conduct with Sheena did not meet my approval. Which, of course, I realize does not matter, but I have known control in my lifetime, and that woman has it in spades." She inhaled and bit her lip nervously. "I am concerned for your daughter; which, I daresay, is also none of my business."

"Mother can get a bit overzealous at times, but you must understand that she sees Sheena as the next debutant in training."

"Perhaps you should ask Sheena how she views herself. No one should force another to be who they were not meant to be."

"You speak as though you've worn those shoes…perhaps in the past?"

"We are not discussing me, Orson. Sheena's future is in the making, and she should have a say as to which direction it will take."

"She's but a child—what does she know about hardship?"

"Nothing if you continue to pamper her. God has created us each with special giftings, and if we are lucky, the opportunity to use them will come to pass."

"Like you in the kitchen? You love it there, don't you?"

"I do. It's like a world that has been created just for me. It's a perfect fit," she said. "It took me a while to get here, and I have my benefactor and you to thank for the journey. Sheena deserves to make the same choices without the scars."

"Thank you for your insight, Ava," he said. "I suppose I should go and confront the woman to see why she made the trip."

"To check up on the woman her son apparently loves, a fact which you have not bothered to voice," she blurted out, unable to hold back the secrets between them—at least some of them. "I am glad to have met you, but I will never belong in your world. Goodbye, Orson. You probably shouldn't call on me anymore."

She went to the door and disappeared inside before he could digest the rejection he had just received.

All the way to the hotel, Ava's face taunted him. She did belong in his world— their world—however that unrolled. How could he make her see that? Better yet, how could he make his mother see that?

His family had known poverty in its early years when his father was still alive, but his wealthy stepfather had erased that from his mother's soul, and her new affluent lifestyle had become like a god to her. Why hadn't he seen that before? Orson had enjoyed watching her dabble in the rich man's world, relieved that her days of sorrow had ended. His own success in the man's business had influenced him for the upper-class life he led, but now he wondered if it held him captive to some degree.

But the childhood scars were nevertheless there, as mere scratches in the polished silver of their hearts. He recalled the piercings he, Frances, his mother, and more recently, Ava Gardner had experienced. How did one go back to redo it all, putting the healthy parts into place to bring into the future?

Young Sheena was ignorant of it all, her grandmother and mother insisting that knowing the pain suffered in her family's past would hinder the molding of the darling of society she was destined to be. That day, while riding down the main street of small-town Blazer after a full day of physical labor, it all sounded so egotistical. His life had become superficial, and he hadn't even noticed the transition.

He could, however, pinpoint the moment the gray lines had washed away from his soul, and that moment was now.

Tears pooled in his eyes as he fought the inner battle to accept the Lord's forgiveness and the strength to move forward. He had run from the message that Sunday Ava had gone forward at church, figuring his trip home to unleash the partial truths that had sunk in would settle his account with the Good Lord and his mother. And he thought it had, but in truth, it turned out to be just one step in the process of surrendering. He fell to his knees in the horse stall and gave his life, his money, his family, and Ava over to the one who knew the secrets of their hearts better than they did.

He stored the wagon in the utility shed behind the hotel, unhooked the team, and brushed them down, all in the hope that caressing the animal's exterior would somehow embrace his inner heart.

It became clear that even him rescuing the saloon girls from their destructive paths was tainted with ego, and for once, he understood Frances's need to escape her stepfather and a lifestyle she never understood. She and Orson had both made choices on different sides of the balance scale, but both had left scars.

Granted, Orson saw nothing wrong with wealth in and of itself, for his stepfather had been gracious and giving, with no hint of ego in his walk. He was also aware that Slate had a lot of it stashed away, but not a single dime of it was allowed to rule their family. That was the key; knowing if the man owned wealth or the wealth owned him.

That day he knew the answer and shook free of its hold.

He did not owe Frances any restitution for the life she had chosen, nor did he love Ava simply because she needed help getting her life together, as his mother had, once upon a time. He loved Ava as his stepfather had loved his wife, and welcomed the son and daughter she brought into the marriage unconditionally. For what was a person's life? Everyone was equal in God's sight.

Orson brushed off his clothes, knowing that would be the first thing his mother noticed when he entered the hotel room, and made his way inside. The clerk shouted a friendly "Good evening" his way, but he did not mention the arrival of the hotel's latest guest.

As his hand touched the doorknob, Orson inhaled and exhaled, long and hard. This was his turning point, and whether his mother agreed or not, he and Sheena would live the life they were destined to live.

"Orson," his mother gasped when he stepped inside. Her hand went for the handkerchief she kept tucked up her sleeve and she brought it to her nose, as if the smell of hard work was offensive. "You are filthy. Do you not have an office set up at the construction site?"

"I don't need an office, Mother, but the locals need guidance. I want this house to be perfect."

The woman groaned. "Yes, a perfect dwelling for an imperfect occupant."

He went over and kissed her cheek, and stood with arms open for Sheena to jump into. Orson chose not to let his mother's disgust shadow his homecoming or steal his joy. "And how is my sweet Sheena? You must have been very surprised to see your grandmother show up today."

"Did you know she was coming, Father?"

"I did not, but I am pleased to introduce her to our little town of Blazer."

" Our little town?" his mother shrieked. "Surely, this place cannot hold a candle to our vast city."

"Both have different qualities, Mama, but to answer your unasked question, I love Blazer, and I love who I am in this town."

"I do too, Papa," Sheena said excitedly. "Did you see Miss Gardner? I missed out on a knitting lesson this afternoon."

"But you did get the chance to catch your grandmother up on what goes on here, I hope."

"I don't want to know," his mother said. "The child blabbers on about nothing. It shall take me months to undo the damage this visit has caused."

Orson held Sheena out, met her gaze, winked, and set her down on her feet. "Why don't you scat downstairs and ask Chef Platie to set up a table in the dining room for us? Tell him we'll be down in about an hour. Perhaps he has a few dishes in the sink for you to do."

When the door closed behind the girl, whose face had shone as if she were escaping jail, his mother wailed from behind him. "Really, Orson? Dishes? Like a commoner? I thought better of your good sense."

He turned slowly. It was time. "Please, Mother. Sit. We have much to discuss."