Page 13 of May I Kiss the Bride
Should Viola be worried even more now? She fetched the cream that the town doctor had said would ease the swelling and aching in her aunt’s hands. Sitting next to her, Viola began to rub the cream in.
“You have a nice touch,” Aunt Beth said in that faraway voice again. “You know, I wanted to go into nursing too.”
Viola’s mouth did drop open then. “You—you heard what I said to Sheriff Rey last week?”
Aunt Beth’s mouth curved into a smile. “Yes, of course. I couldn’t leave my niece alone with a virile and unmarried man. Doesn’t matter how ill he might be. Wouldn’t be proper.”
“The sheriff would never—” Viola cleared her throat. “He’s an honorable man, but I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that.” She was still trying to remember their conversation exactly and what Aunt Beth might have overheard.
“He’s been keeping an eye on you, you know,” Aunt Beth said.
“Onme?” Viola rubbed her aunt’s wrist a little harder than she’d intended to. When she realized it, she softened her touch. “He’s looking out for all of us in the shop. It’s his job.”
Aunt Beth chuckled at this, then she drew her hands back. “Viola, you’re a grown woman, but sometimes I think you only see what you want to see—and ignore what’s right in front of you.”
Heat climbed up Viola’s neck. “I see what’s in front of me—”
But Aunt Beth held up her hand. “Now, sometimes it’s better to listen, especially to a woman who has years more experience than you in matters between men and women.”
Viola could only stare at her aunt. Beth had never been married or engaged, never had children … Had she a string of lovers in the past no one in the family knew about? It was hard to imagine her wild-haired aunt, in her plain cotton dresses and perpetual flour underneath her fingernails, with extensive experience with men.
“I’m listening,” Viola said, because what else could she say? She was more curious and eager than a mouse searching for crumbs in winter.
“When your mother and I were young women, she was always considered the pretty one. The bright, sparkly, outgoing Cannon sister. I was the studious one. Always reading. Always dreaming of far-off places. I read everything. Medical books in which I imagined myself as a nurse. Legal books in which I wondered if I could follow in Clara Foltz’s shoes and become a female lawyer in California. Science books in which I dreamed of joining a safari trip to the African continent.”
Viola had read books about all those subjects, but she’d always known she was meant to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a society miss. “So nursing was one of the things you considered?”
“Yes,” Aunt Beth said. “I wasn’t like you—invested in it—because I loved to dream so much. I used to go on long walks with a book tucked under my arm. I’d slip into one of the San Francisco hotels and sit in the lobby. Not to read, but to listento the conversations of those around me. Travelers intrigued me. And that’s when I met your father.”
Viola moved to the edge of the sofa and turned more fully toward her aunt. “I thought you and my mother met Father at the governor’s ball.”
“Oh, that’s when yourmothermet him.” Beth released a sigh accompanied by a smile. “I fell in love with him first, you know. I still remember the moment your father walked into that hotel lobby. He was dressed like a gentleman, and his eastern accent only added to his intrigue. He spoke rapidly to the hotel concierge, then swept his gaze about the lobby, stopping on me.”
Aunt Beth touched a hand to her throat as she continued. “He asked me for restaurant recommendations, and we fell into a conversation after that. For over an hour we talked of everything, and he told me he was interviewing for a job at the bank. That he’d be in town for a week or two, sightseeing. I had planned to show up in the lobby the next day, and maybe the next, if only to speak with him more. But that night, he arrived at the governor’s ball.”
Viola had heard stories about the governor’s ball—from her parents, never from Aunt Beth.
“That night at the ball, your father only had eyes for your mother. It was like someone had snuffed out the candle burning inside of me, forever plunging me into the dark.” She gave a sad laugh. “At least that’s what it felt like at the time. Nineteen-year-olds can be dramatic.”
But Viola didn’t smile or laugh. How had she not known Aunt Beth had loved her father? She felt both repelled and fascinated. “Did Mother know? Did my father … ?”
“No one knew,” Aunt Beth continued. “At least not directly. I think they both suspected. I left the morning after they’d announced their engagement at Christmas dinner. Packed my things, jumped on a train heading east, and got off at Cheyenne.”
Viola had no words. She hadn’t known any of this.
“I refused to go to the wedding,” Aunt Beth said. “I made up an excuse of being ill.” She shrugged. “Never had the desire to see the two of them together. Thought that maybe I’d find another man, or I’d follow one of my dreams after all. But none of that happened.”
Viola released a breath. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
Another shrug from Aunt Beth. “How could you?” She reached out and patted Viola’s hand. “Now, run along. The shop will be opening soon, and you have a lot of admirers coming to see you.”
“None I could ever take seriously,” Viola said. “My parents would have a fit.”
Aunt Beth chuckled. “That’s what makes it so entertaining. I know you’ve been smarting over your broken engagement, but it’s quite comical that your parents would make you hide out here. The one place they’d never stoop to visit. And the one place where you are at the most threat of having your heart stolen.”
“What do you mean?” Although Viola knew what her aunt meant. Her racing heart was proof enough.
“You’re not one of those stuffy city folks,” Beth said. “You might look like your parents, and you might have finer manners than most people in Wyoming, but you’re a dreamer. You want to look beyond the trappings of wealth and privilege. You want to make a difference in the world, and how will you do that living under the weight of someone else’s expectations? If there’s one thing I could tell you to do—based on all my experience and all my regrets—it’s to take a chance on your dream. If you don’t, you’ll never know if it would have worked out.”
