“I was just telling Lola about Jimmy, that’s all.” Hope looked over at her father, hoping he’d have some wisdom to impart for her.
“Oh, I see.” He patted her shoulder but didn’t say more. She had already spoken to him briefly about Jimmy’s request, and Jimmy had stopped by the bank to discuss it with him, but being the diplomat he was, Will had told him he needed some time to consider the situation, and Jimmy was likely halfway across town by now. Hope hadn’t even looked his direction during the service for fear he might think she had an answer for him—which she supposed she did, though she didn’t want to speak it.
“Daddy, do you think I’ve given up on my dreams?” She blurted out the question before she could even consider how harsh it might sound spilling out of her mouth when she was still upset at Lola.
He raised an eyebrow at her, and Hope dropped her eyes to her boots, thinking he might agree with Lola’s assessment. “Why would you ask that?” Will finally asked. “Who’s puttin’ thoughts in your head?”
“No one.” She glanced back up and could tell instantly he didn’t buy it. “Lola. She said I should just marry Jimmy and be a farmer’s wife.”
Will nodded. “And how exactly does that mean you’ve already given up on your dreams since you haven’t done that?”
Hope spun around, putting her knee up on the seat for a second before she dropped it and took a more ladylike position, still turned to face her father. “Don’t you remember, Daddy, when I used to say I was going to head out West and teach at a school where the kids really needed me? Where the parents were outlaws and saloon girls?” She lowered her voice for that last phrase, afraid some of the other church goers flocking across the yard might overhear.
He chuckled. “I remember that. Are you saying you think you aren’t doing what you always intended because you are here and not out in Colorado or California or some place?”
“Or Texas….”
“Now, that’s south, honey.”
Hope cocked an eyebrow at him, and her father laughed. “I know that, Daddy. It’s still lawless.”
“I think, if you were to do that, Hope, you’d find out people are about the same wherever you go. Besides, you are making a difference here. I see it. People come in the bank all the time talking about how wonderful you are with their children, how much they’re learning.”
“But Daddy….” She wasn’t even sure how that sentence was supposed to end. “What if I did miss my calling because this was the comfortable, safe choice?”
Her father looked over his shoulder, and Hope realized her mother and sister were outside of the church building now, though they continued to speak with some other women, and Hope knew it could still be several minutes before they made it over to the carriage. Frankie hung back a few feet behind Faith, likely trying not to listen to women-talk but not able to give his betrothed more than few feet of space either.
“Hope, you know I’ve always encouraged you to do what speaks to your heart. Your mother, on the other hand…. She doesn’t do so well with loved ones being away. If you were to try for a position in one of those lawless lands you speak of, you do need to talk it over with her first. I know you can handle yourself. You been shooting bottles like a deadeye since you were knee high to a grasshopper.” She laughed. “But I can’t imagine not having you here, and I’m not sure you understand how lonely it can be, striking out on your own and leaving everything you know behind you.”
She soaked in his words, knowing he spoke from experience. He was about her age when he’d joined the Union Army and marched his way across several states, all on his own. She saw her mother laughing with Susannah, carefree, and knew she’d likely break her mother’s heart if she pursued leaving Lamar. Deep inside of Hope, there was a fire still burning, telling her she needed to try or else she’d always live with regret. It had been just an ember this morning, but Lola had stoked the flame, and now, Hope felt she had more to consider than just Jimmy Brooks and his proposal.
“What was it like, Daddy?” she asked. “Being out there all alone.”
He shrugged, and she thought he might not answer. She knew he didn’t like to talk about the war much. “It was lonesome most times. I made friends quick. People like Frank.” She nodded—Frankie’s father. “But I wanted nothing more than to come back here, to your mother. To my sister. Family’s the most important thing in the world, Hope. You can’t forget that.”
Hope stared into her father’s eyes for a long moment before she nodded. The sound of her mother and sister brought her back to reality, and she remembered she was sitting in her mother’s seat. “Thanks, Daddy,” she said quietly, and he tilted his head down to let her know she was welcome before turning to step down from the cart so he could help her mother in. Hope jumped down, too, and as she turned her head, she saw Jimmy Brooks standing by the church. She’d thought he’d left, but he was still there, staring at her. Tears filled her eyes, and Hope had to look away. Maybe he was just one man, maybe there were others in town she hadn’t thought about, but Hope realized if she wanted a love like her parents’, she’d have to look elsewhere. She climbed into the back seat of the cart and listened to her sister tell Frankie she’d see him later, her heart longing for something like that more than she’d even considered before Jimmy Brooks had asked the question that led to a thousand others.