"Are you certain that Mondays are always this...slow?" Lucy asked. . It was close to noon, and aside from five-or-so tables at breakfast, Grace's Cafe had been virtually empty. Grace, standing over a pot of steaming soup, nodded.

"Something about Mondays always keeps things down here," she replied, stirring the soup. Lucy inhaled the aroma. Even outdoors, she could smell the savory chicken broth flood her nostrils. There was a hint of cabbage as well, but it only blended with the dominant smell of the chicken.

"I wish I could cook," Lucy said, drying the last dish of the morning.

"You can't cook?" Grace asked lightly, with perhaps a hint of teasing.

Lucy shook her head and set the dish aside. "I was a maid in New York, not a cook. The boardinghouse had a separate chef to make meals, or the matron would do the task.

"I only know of a few women in town who don't cook. Dr. Mike is one of them," Grace noted.

"Well, she's too busy breaking gender molds," Lucy said with a smile.

"That she is," Grace said admiringly.

Lucy looked off in the direction of the church. The notion had been eating away at her since yesterday: had she been too hard on Timothy? It was probable, and he probably wasn't even used to a woman rebuffing him. One thing Lucy had picked up on immediately was the general passiveness and conservatism the ladies adopted in Colorado.

"Back in New York, ladies, especially ladies from poor families, are braver than what I've seen out here," she sighed. "Whole groups of women came together in public to demand things limke suffrage and more rights, and men support them."

"You wont find that so quickly in Colorado Springs," Grace rebuffed. "Men out here still think they deserve to be the heads of the town, and women belong in the home with children."

"I guess that's why I haven't made any real friends out here yet," Lucy mulled. Grace stopped stirring and looked at Lucy with disbelief.

"That's not what I hear. I hear you've made two special friends already..."

"Who?" Lucy asked. Grace raised an eyebrow.

"A certain Mr. Lodge and a certain Reverend-"

"-Oh dear," Lucy groaned softly. Rumors were abound already?

"Truly, this is a small town," was her answer. "I mean, Preston is a decent sort, I suppose. But I...the Reverend...I mean..."

"I hope I'm not too early for lunch?" chirped a voice behind Lucy as she stuttered. She turned to see Timothy's Louise Chambers standing before her. Grace quickly (almost too quickly) went back to tending the chicken soup. Lucy shook her head.

"Of course not," she said with courtesy. "Please have a seat right here."

Lucy guided Louise to the nearest table and seated her. "May I take your order or would you like to hear the menu?"

"I'd just like a cup of coffee to start," Louise said curtly.

"Right away."

Lucy dashed inside to pour coffee into a ceramic mug. Grace met her in the doorway.

"Why is she back?" Grace mumbled.

"That woman?" Lucy indicated. "I hear her previous stay in town was met with...shall we say...mixed reviews."

"That's a polite way to put it," Grace scoffed. Lucy decided to ignore the sudden rudeness in Grace's tone and rushed out with the coffee.

"Lucile, that was your name, yes?" Louise asked. Lucy nodded silently. "I would like you have a talk with you if you wouldn't mind."

Lucy looked around. No one else seemed to be headed in the cafe's general direction, so she figured a moment wouldn't back things up.

"Please, sit," Louise asked, as if they were sitting in her parlour. Lucy obeyed after another moment's hesitation. "I wanted to talk with you about a job proposal."

This was not what Lucy expected to hear. "A job proposal?"

"Yes," Louise replied. "I am travelling to California and will only be here for three weeks. I hope to find a young lady to be my travelling companion. Once we arrive, I'd let her stay with me until we could secure another job and lodging for her. I just feel lonely sometimes and forget what it's like to have someone, particularly a woman, to talk to."

"California? Where in California?" Lucy asked, her attention now fully on Louise.

"San Francisco," Louise said matter-of-factly.

What luck!

"I was hoping to end up there myself," Lucy admitted. "I...well, let's just say I was stuck here en route from New York."

Louise smiled. Lucy wasn't quite sure what to make of her perfect teeth and enormous dimples. They made her look doll-like and artificial.

"If I hired you, I would compensate you as well. Perhaps fifty cents a day until we found you a room in California."

Fifty cents! That wasn't too bad of a wage at all.

"I will consider it," Lucy said. Louise stifled a giggle.

"Oh, I see the glint in your eye that appeared when I mentioned San Francisco," she mused. "But of course, I will let you decide. But, if you want my two cents, it doesn't seem like there is much here for you."

"Perhaps not," Lucy agreed. "I've been here myself only a few weeks."

"This town doesn't take kindly to women like us. Women who want more than marriage and...children." Louise practically spat out that last word as if it were poison on her tongue.

"Oh, I want that," Lucy retorted. "Perhaps not tomorrow, but I suppose I would like a family one day if I'm so blessed."

"If you're so blessed?" Louise said with mild disdain. "You sound just like Timo-" she stopped herself.

Lucy dropped her shoulders. That was a phrase she never had used before. Was Timothy rubbing off on her so soon?

"Well, I was almost married once, and I thought that maybe I could be a wife. But a mother? No. Children...children are an occupation to me and nothing more. I have no desire to give birth either and lose my fine figure," Louise said with dignity.

Lucy frowned and looked down at her own body, which wasn't at all graceful or frail like Louise's frame. Lucy was aways bigger-boned. She had grown breasts before turning twelve, and her wide hips also sprouted sooner than her female peers in New York. It didn't help that she began her monthly bleeding at that age as well. Overall, Lucy was wide and tall. Not particularly fat, but large. Louise's comment about her figure felt almost like an affront to Lucy.

"Well, I should get back to work," Lucy said quickly. Louise nodded permissively.

"Do think on my offer," she asked. "And...one last thing."

"Yes?"

"Timothy likes his women as tiny and traditional as they come. I was even too progressive for him. It's natural, his being a clergyman, of course. You understand, I'm sure."

Lucy bit her lip and turned away. It seemed to be Louise's special gift, back-handed comments of that caliber.

Grace had been right about her, after all.

The afternoon passed quietly, and at about four-o-clock, Timothy arrived. Lucy was washing a few mugs in preparation for the dinner rush when he made himself known.

"I'm here," he announced with enthusiasm. Lucy turned around as he tipped his hat respectfully. Lucy felt her heart bounce against her chest.

"Just one moment," she said. Lucy then quick found Grace pulling a blackberry pie from the stove.

"May I have permission to leave for a moment? I have something to settle with The Reverend," Lucy asked.

Grace looked Lucy up and down and set the pie aside. She walked up to Lucy and, without any warning, reached out and tucked some loose tendrils of red hair behind Lucy's ears.

"You have a beautiful face," Grace said softly and kindly. "You should keep your hair back more."

"Thank you," Lucy replied unsteadily. Grace smiled.

"Go. I have everything covered here for now."

Lucy smiled. Grace was such a gentle, motherly soul.

Lucy returned to Timothy a moment later. She was suddenly very conscious not only of her hair and face, but of her large figure and height. Timothy smiled and sighed awkwardly. "Is there anywhere you would prefer to go in order to give us more privacy?"

Lucy shrugged. "Let's just walk."

They did so in silence for several minutes. They crossed the foot bridge and began strolling into the trees.

"About yesterday-" Timothy started.

Lucy quickly interrupted. "-I owe you an apology for yesterday."

"Me? You owe me an apology?" Timothy asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes," Lucy said. "I treated you very coldly when all you were doing was being polite. I am such a rash, emotionally-driven person that I didn't think to consider your position. I hope that you'll forgive me and not see me as some kind of shrew."

"A shrew?" Timothy asked, chuckling. If only she knew how I really felt...

"I know you prefer women to be rather conservative like they are out here, and I know it is what you're used too."

...they way your words sound like poetry no matter what they are...

"I know I'm some liberal-minded city girl who literally was thrown off a train as a stowaway, but I can make the effort to be less of an annoyance."

...the way I see the Miracle of God in your beautiful eyes...

"I even promise to integrate myself better in the way you'd find acceptable if you'd just give me the second chance."

...your violent passion and how it makes me feel like no woman ever has before...

"So please accept my apology, Reverend," Lucy finished. "I hope you'll see fit to forgive me."

...and how I feel like I've known your for my whole life and can't get along without you...

"Forgive you?" Timothy replied. "Lucile, you silly woman, I was trying to apologize to you for the way I brushed you aside for Louise yesterday!"

Lucy looked into Timothy's eyes, stopping in her tracks. "So you aren't afraid of me? Or upset with me?"

"How? How can I be upset with you!" Timothy said. He felt his chest loosen and his mind begin speeding by like a train. "Lucy, when I first saw you, lying on my back covered in mud, I thought you were an angel taking me to Heaven! You were the first face I laid my eye on after being blind for years, and I thank God every day that you were there! And these past two weeks I've only felt the need to be beside you grow and grow, as if we've known each other much longer than a fortnight."

Lucy took a long time to process each delicious word Timothy was saying to you. He didn't stop there, either.

"I am supposed to be a quiet, patient man, and I am most of the time. But whenever I see Preston speak with you, it frightens me because I feel as if it is my duty to defend your honor against him, and I feel like I would do something very impatient and very inappropriate of a man of God to him if he ever touched you. I am confused and exicted, I afraid and bold all at once. I don't even know which way is up these days, and yesterday I was going to ask if you would allow me to call on you in a courtly manner before we were interrupted!"

Lucy searched for what felt like a full minute before she could respond. She genuinely felt at a loss for words. Her forehead began to produce a nervous sweat, and her pulse quickened.

"You were going to...ask to court me?" she stuttered, unsure if that was what she even heard.

"Yes," Timothy said after a breath. He toom a second to re-collect his rational thoughts, then took Lucy's hand in his own, looking her in the eye. "Most people don't think a Reverend can feel rash or passionate about a woman...but I'm still a man, too. You make me feel this way, Lucile Greene. I...want to court you if you would accept me."

Lucy felt a tear in her eye. She had the sudden urge to do flips around the glen, screaming at the top of her lungs, letting her limbs fly every which way in a fit of childish happiness. How she kept control of her manner and senses, she wasn't even aware of.

"Preston will be quite disappointed," she laughed. Timothy bit his lip.

"If you would rather wait and see where your relationship with him goes, I understand."

"No," Lucy said quickly. "Preston isn't for me. You are."

Timothy felt a lump rise in his throat. The good kind, the kind that comes when one anticipates a big, happy announcement.

"Timothy...yes. You would make me quite happy if you did call on me."

Timothy couldn't help but allow the lump in his voice to escape as a strong, brief laugh of joy. "Oh, thank you, Lord!"

Lucy joined in his laughter with the same amount of happiness. Timothy moved in closer. Lucy threw her arms around his neck and touched his nose with hers.

"You're certain about this?" she whispered. "I don't want my heart broken by a parson."

"I will never break your heart. I promise this before you and God. I am yours," he replied.

And with those words, he kissed her, moving his lips gingerly over hers as he tightened his embrace. His kiss was gentle and tender, but also confident and passionate.

There they stayed in each others' arms in the middle of the glen until sunset. Lucy had completely forgotten about the dinner shift at Grace's.

I am so blessed, she thought as she kissed Timothy and held him tightly to her. Perhaps I am blessed after all.

The next afternoon, when Preston heard about the Reverend entering a courting relationship with Lucile Greene, he at first felt insulted. Then defeated, but only momentarily.

The fact was, Lucile was from a city. She was healthy, charming, quick, and beautiful. Preston knew that she would be an ideal wife for him. They weren't just matched in wit and intelligence, but she had a strong body, which could finally give him a son. Preston had the notion of having someone to inherit his businesses and his name. He was in his thirties already, and Lord knew if some Western disease would come and kill him any season. Having a wife to give him children had slowly become a priority in Preston's mind. Lucile was his best, and perhaps his last, chance to have a family. And perhaps a Preston Lodge IV.

Lucile must have been a silly girl who was being swept up in the romantic idea of a Western romance. There was no way possible that Timthy Johnson could offer her the romance that he, a dashing, courtly man from the East, could provide her with. The fact that the modest, slow-going Reverend had actually beaten him to a proposal did momentarily put his ego in check.

But Preston Lodge III never gave up. He certainly wouldn't surrender so easily now.