<< Go Back

Revealing Fire

By Connie Stevens

Order Now!

Chapter One
Willow Creek, Iowa
May 1884

“Oh, for mercy sakes! Stop flittering about like a silly schoolgirl!” Pearl Dunnigan glanced over her shoulder, thankful there was no one to hear her self-admonishment except Maggie, the cat. Perhaps she should have declined when Hubert Behr asked her to dinner. How preposterous for a woman in her September years to experience flutters over a man’s attention.
She propped her hands on her hips and frowned at the two dresses carefully arranged on her bed. Her newest, a dark blue with tiny flowers, was simple, just an everyday housedress. No elaborate trim or fancy buttons adorned the bodice, no special tucks or decorative stitching embellished the garment. The other was her Sunday best. Dove gray with purple ruching around the neck and cuffs and exquisite little purple buttons; the dress was elegant.
Every time she donned the dress for church, she’d pictured fine Eastern socialites sitting down to tea, holding delicate bone china teacups with gracefully gloved hands. The image always made her snort. She’d be as out of place at a fancy tea party as Queen Victoria at a hog calling contest. But every lady should have something special to make her feel dressed up, even for just one day a week, and Pearl loved feeling like a lady.
Cooking and cleaning all day for a house full of boarders provided her an income, but at the end of the day all she felt was exhaustion. When Hubert smiled at her, she felt. . .revived.
She picked up the gray dress and turned with it in front of her to face the small mirror over her washstand. What would folks think if they saw her on the arm of a gentleman like Hubert in the middle of the week, and in her Sunday best no less? She held the dress against her and smoothed her hand over the precise gray tucks, each one embroidered with purple silk thread. Glancing back at the dark blue still laying on the bed, she knew her mind was already made up.
A knock drew her attention. “Miss Pearl?”
She recognized the voice of Tessa Maxwell, a dear friend who was like a daughter to her. Hastily returning the gray dress to the wardrobe, she called out. “I’m in here.”
The young woman with honey brown hair, holding a blond-headed toddler by the hand, poked her head in the door of the bedroom. “We stopped by to see Grandma Pearl while we were in town.”
Pearl crossed the room with her arms held out. “Come here, punkin?”
“G’ma!” The little girl pulled away from her mother and ran to Pearl.
Gathering the child to her, Pearl inhaled the child’s sweet scent. “How is my sweet little Susan today? My goodness, how fast she’s growing.”
Susan stretched her hand up over her head. “I dis big.”
Tessa gave a sad little smile. “You know I’ve already had to pack away so many things that she’s outgrown.” The young mother heaved a deep sigh. “I wish she could stay little.”
Pearl nuzzled the little one, her own sigh matching Tessa’s. “I don’t think I realized all I’d missed by not having young’uns of my own. But I’m grateful that you’ve let me be a stepgrandma.” Pearl planted little kisses all over the child’s head, and the tot rewarded her with a smile.
“G’ma, cookie?”
“Not before supper,” her mother admonished.
Tessa hugged Pearl’s shoulders. “I just came from the mercantile. Mr. Behr asked if I could bring in some gingerbread cakes and sugar cookies to the store.” She reached out to catch Susan’s hand to keep her from investigating Pearl’s bureau drawers. “Taking care of a home and a husband, and now this little sweetheart, doesn’t leave me much time for baking like I used to do. But Mr. Behr said anytime I can bring baked goods in, he’d be pleased to have them to sell.”
At the mention of Hubert Behr, Pearl’s heart did a giddy flip and telltale warmth stole into her cheeks. Her mouth took on a mind of its own and stretched into a wobbly beam of pleasure.
Tessa cocked an eyebrow at her. “What’s this? A smile through the blush?”
Pearl stroked Susan’s yellow curls and shrugged. “Don’t suppose I can keep it to myself much longer. I’d like to tell you and Gideon before the whole town knows about it. Hubert and I—that is, Mr. Behr has asked me to join him for dinner tomorrow night.”
Tessa’s eyebrows arched a notch higher, and Pearl decided to blurt out the rest before her friend’s imagination got carried away.
“He—Mr. Behr—asked me two weeks ago if he could. . .”
“If he could what?”
Pearl bent and straightened Susan’s pinafore to cover the nervous tremble in her voice. She cleared her throat twice. “He asked permission to—” Her voice cracked. “Oh mercy sakes! He asked permission to call on me.”
Tessa’s eyes widened along with her smile. “Call? You mean he wants to court you?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Her pulse tapped an erratic rhythm. “He just asked if. . .”
“Mr. Behr is taking you to dinner? That’s so exciting.” Her friend appeared genuinely happy at the news. “Mr. Behr is such a nice man. Where is he taking you?”
An involuntary smile tweaked the corner of Pearl’s mouth. “He said he’d reserved the best table at the hotel dining room.”
“Really?” A grin split Tessa’s face.
Pearl took a deep breath. “Really. I was just trying to decide what I’ll wear when you came in.” She crossed to the bed and looked down at the dark blue dress draped across the end of the bed. “I think I’ll wear this. It’s new and quite serviceable.”
Tessa’s lips pursed and her eyebrows dipped as she looked over the dress. “Miss Pearl, you’re not wearing a housedress for your dinner with Mr. Behr, no matter how nice it might look on you when you’re sweeping the front porch.” Her young friend opened the wardrobe and fingered through the garments hanging there. “Here. This will be perfect.” She extracted the light gray with the purple trim.
“Oh, honey.” Pearl lowered her voice like she was telling a secret. “Don’t you think people will think I’m being a foolish old lady, getting all gussied up to have dinner with a friend?”
Tessa gave Pearl a quizzical look. “A friend? Is that why Mr. Behr spent every minute with you at the church potluck supper a couple of weeks ago? Is that why he started stammering a little while ago when I told him I was planning on stopping by here, and why you blushed when I mentioned his name? Because he’s your friend?”
Pearl took the gray dress from Tessa and laid it on the bed. “Honey girl, I’m fifty-four years old—too old for such nonsense.” Susan cackled as though she understood Grandma Pearl’s joke.
Tessa plunked her hands on her hips. “Who says you’re too old? I don’t ever remember hearing there is a certain age at which people are no longer allowed to enjoy each other’s company.”
The two women watched as Susan sat on the braided rug and pulled off her shoes. “Besides, you’re a lovely lady and. . .” She leaned forward and finished in a conspiratorial whisper. “And Mr. Behr is a handsome man.” She straightened. “And furthermore, I think the occasion calls for a new bonnet, as well. Mrs. Pettigrew is displaying some pretty new things in her shop. She could fashion something for you with some lovely purple flowers on the brim that will go with the trim on this dress.”
“Oh, pshaw!” Pearl flapped her hands. “There are plenty of things I can spend hard-earned money on besides a new bonnet.” She caught her reflection in the mirror and hesitated. Her hair used to be honey brown. Now there was much more gray than brown. A new bonnet might make her look like a girl again. As quickly as the thought crossed her mind, she dismissed it. Such nonsense. She picked up Susan’s shoes. “Come sit on the front porch with me a while.”
The scent of the lilac bushes by the porch beckoned Pearl to spend time with Tessa and little Susan. They settled themselves on the swing, and Pearl reached to tickle Susan’s tummy.
“I remember one time.” Tessa’s teasing smile pulled the corners of her mouth upward. “You told me once that I needed to buy myself some new hair ribbons. I think you need a new bonnet.”
Pearl squirmed “That’s not fair. You’re using my own words against me.” She reached through the railing and plucked a lilac blossom and held it to her nose. The sweet fragrance pulled a soft sigh from her, but the contentment that normally accompanied her brief respites on the porch swing surrounded by the scent of lilacs eluded her. She pushed against the railing with her toe and set the swing into a gentle motion.
“Part of me is afraid of what folks will think and part of me doesn’t care what they think. Maybe I’m still trying to figure out what I feel.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tessa smile.
The young woman laid her free hand on Pearl’s arm. “Remember the day we sat at your kitchen table and I told you how confused I was about my feelings for Gideon?”
Pearl chuckled at the memory and halted the swing so Susan could scramble aboard. “Seems to me I recall you asking if anybody ever tried to kiss me.”
Tessa giggled. “Yes, I suppose I did. But do you remember what you told me about how to sort out my feelings?”
Pearl shrugged. “I probably told you to take it to the Lord.”
“Mm-hmm, that’s exactly what you told me.” Tessa picked up Pearl’s hand and squeezed it. “I can’t tell you what to do, but God can.”
Pearl sighed. “When did you get to be so wise?”
Tessa’s laugh filled the air between them. “Between my mama first and then you, I had two wise teachers.”
Perhaps taking her own advice given through heart of a friend wasn’t such a difficult thing to bear. “How about a cup of tea.”
“No thanks, we have to get home. Gideon will be looking for his supper soon.” The younger woman hugged Pearl, and bent to put Susan’s shoes back on. “Tell Grandma Pearl she needs a new bonnet.”
Susan chortled and shook a chubby finger at Pearl. “G’ma need a new bonnet.”
Pearl captured Susan’s finger and gave it a kiss. “You come back to see me real soon, punkin.” Looking at Tessa and reading her eyes, Pearl added, “And I’ll think about the bonnet.”
After Pearl waved good-bye from the front porch, she walked back to the kitchen to push the kettle over the hottest part of the stove. New bonnet, indeed. It wasn’t enough that she’d be making a spectacle of herself, dressing in her best dress to be seen on the arm of the dapper and distinguished Hubert Behr. Her friend thought she should have a new bonnet to mark the occasion.
She scooped tea leaves into the china teapot and waited for the water to heat. The truth was she wanted that new bonnet. But the sudden desire for the bonnet didn’t surprise her as much as the unexpected quiet longing that tugged from deep within her. She’d never loved another man in her whole life but Jacob Dunnigan. She couldn’t remember another boy in school who even remotely drew her attention. From the day Jacob kissed her out behind the old willow tree when they were children, she knew he was the one she would one day marry.
She fingered a gray tendril by her ear. After being a widow for twelve years, this desire to be with another man—to be with Hubert—so startled her, she felt like she needed to ask Jacob’s advice in the matter.
The kettle began to boil, and she poured steaming water into the teapot and set the tea to steep. She sat and propped her elbows on the kitchen table with her forehead in her hands. No, Jacob couldn’t tell her what was right or wrong, but God could. She folded her hands and closed her eyes.


“You are a doddering fool!”
Hubert Behr pulled the end of his bow tie loose and began retying it for the fourth time. When his thumbs got in the way again, he sighed and yanked the blue silk cravat from his neck and tossed it on the dry sink.
What was he thinking, asking Pearl Dunnigan if he could call on her? One thing was certain, he was supplying the town gossips with a new topic to occupy their tongues.
He could only imagine what people would say when they saw him parade into the hotel dining room with Pearl on his arm. Sitting together at the church potluck supper was one thing, but asking her to accompany him to a public place for dinner looked like. . .well, it would look like they were courting.
“Courting!” Hubert blew out a stiff breath. He hadn’t courted a woman since—“Since Lucinda.”
A familiar jolt shuddered through him again. He wasn’t sure if it was still the pain of Lucinda’s betrayal or the guilt he bore for driving her away that kept him from seeking female companionship all these years. Twenty years to be exact.
Should a man of his age even be thinking about enjoying the company of a lady? He stared at his reflection in the mirror. “Why not?” Was there a law written somewhere that forbade him to take a lady to dinner? The gray in his mustache and muttonchops reminded him he was no longer of the age when one commonly courted a woman.
“But isn’t that what I intended when I asked Pearl for permission to call?” Hubert remembered Pearl had blushed to the roots of her hair, but it was her smile and her demure reply that made him feel like a schoolboy. He shook his finger at his reflection looking back at him from the mirror. “She said, ‘Yes, Hubert, I believe I’d like that.’ That’s what she said.” He nodded as if reconfirming Pearl’s agreement.
“And what will Everett think?” His son’s latest letter lay on the table. Hubert crossed the room and picked up the single sheet of paper. Many years had passed since Everett had willingly revealed his emotions to his father. Doing so now indicated the young man cared what Hubert thought. Despite the years and miles that separated them, Hubert had never stopped caring about what Everett thought. He’d loved his son from a distance. Holding the missive in his hands brought a fresh wave of joy. The letter was tangible evidence that the desire of his heart—the restoration of the relationship between him and Everett—was truly coming to pass.
Hubert fingered the corner of the page, reflecting on the long list of missed opportunities that had escaped during the years his son was reared by his wealthy grandparents. If he could turn back the calendar, he’d do things so much differently. “Lord,You know, Lord, it is my biggest regret, not having been a godly influence in my son’s life. If only I’d not let my own faith grow cold during those early years, Everett might have grown up in a Christian home.”
Hubert sighed and turned his gaze to Everett’s carefully penned words.
Dear Father. . .He scanned down the page to the last two paragraphs.

"I, too, am pleased that we are working to put our differences behind us and find a common ground on which to build a friendship. Of course, Grandfather was a good man and I admired him, but I am now beginning to understand what I missed over the years by resisting your efforts to take your rightful place as my father.
"I hope you are now comfortably situated in your new home. Your reasons for wanting to operate a general merchandise store since your retirement are still a mystery to me. I would think after years of moving around conducting investigations for the Pinkerton Agency and apprehending criminals, you would be ready to take your ease. I am trying to imagine you behind the counter of your establishment selling harnesses and work gloves to farmers, and cannot understand your desire to do so. Does your decision have anything to do with the woman named Pearl you mentioned in your last letter? Perhaps you can enlighten me in your next letter."

Everett

The woman named Pearl. Everett’s question gnawed at him. He barely knew Pearl when he decided to purchase the mercantile, so he really couldn’t say she was the reason for his decision. But after many months of filling her grocery orders and sitting across the aisle from her in church, listening to her laugh when she played with Gideon and Tessa Maxwell’s little daughter, hearing her kind words for friends and neighbors, and finding himself included in that circle, it happened. So gradually he couldn’t tell where or when it began. But there it was—the dawn of attraction, like a soft inhalation of fresh air in spring. The realization came upon him so quietly he was mesmerized by its onset until it enveloped him like glove. The thought quickened his breath.
In hindsight, he suspected her blue eyes were probably the first thing that caught his attention. Watching her eyes when she spoke, he saw tenderhearted compassion and the kind of joy that one can know only through a relationship with God. Her eyes spoke to him even when she didn’t say a word.
He ran his finger over the carefully inked words of Everett’s letter—the woman named Pearl. His pulse accelerated at the thought of telling Everett about the lady who so captured his senses, he couldn’t direct his fingers to tie his own cravat. But what should he say? It would take a sheaf of paper to tell Everett about the woman named Pearl.
Hubert pulled his watch from his pocket and his heart caught. Time to go and pick up Pearl for their dinner date.

Order Now!

<< Go Back