Scott paused momentarily outside the closed parlor door, trying to collect his thoughts. Some of his earlier apprehensions had returned when Mary mentioned James waiting to meet him alone. It could be a good sign, he reasoned, indicating that James had already guessed what Scott would ask him and was giving him the perfect opportunity to do so. Or, Scott reflected wryly, maybe he just didn't want any witnesses. There was only one way to find out. He knocked on the door.
"Come in," said a gruff voice from the interior.
With only a quick glance at the heavens, Scott complied, closing the door firmly behind him. Mr. Roberts sat in a comfortable, well-used armchair which was pulled close to the crackling blaze in the fireplace, an unlit pipe protruding from his mouth. He didn't rise upon Scott's entrance, but remained seated, regarding him steadily over the top of his newspaper from dark blue eyes that, Scott was thankful see, held more than a hint of humor. The expression under his slightly wavy gray hair was suitably stern, however, plainly showing Scott that he had his work cut out for him.
"Scott Sherwood," he approached the older man confidently, hand extended.
"James Roberts," he accepted Scott's hand, then indicated the chair facing him. "Have a seat."
"Thank you," Scott sank gratefully into the chair, but didn't lean back, believing his case would be received better if he appeared completely alert. He waited, wondering if he should speak first. Mr. Roberts seemed to make the decision for him by simply observing him gravely from the other side of the fireplace, unmoving, with an air of austere expectation. Scott couldn't have said why but, he suddenly felt like a squirming schoolboy who'd attracted the teacher's ruthless scrutiny for not completing an assignment. Scott cleared his throat. "Mr. Roberts- sir," was there the hint of a smile in those knowing blue eyes? "I'm glad we have a chance to speak privately because there is something I'd like to talk to you about. Well, it's about Betty..."
The newspaper suddenly rustled. With exaggerated care, Mr. Roberts folded the sheet and laid it on his lap before steepling his hands under his chin, elbows planted firmly on the armrests of his chair. "Go on," he invited quietly.
"Sir..." Panic suddenly engulfed him as his mind went blank. All of the speeches he'd considered before were worthless; they'd do nothing to help him here. He forced himself to focus on Betty: her eyes, her smile, and relief flooded through him. He only needed to think of her and somehow, he would make Mr. Roberts understand. "I've traveled a lot in my life, always moving from place to place, never settling anywhere for very long. I've seen things most people can only imagine. The point is, it's as if I've always been looking for something, even though I didn't know what it was I was looking for. I know what I've been looking for now, sir. It's Betty. I realize I'm probably not even half good enough for her, but I love her more than anyone else ever will and I promise that I will always take care of her. Mr. Roberts, I'd like your permission to marry your daughter."
Scott waited, his nerves on edge, as James silently regarded him for a moment. At last, he spoke quietly. "There's a war coming, I think you know it," Scott briefly nodded his agreement. "When it does come to us, what are you going to do?"
"I'll fight," Scott answered simply, his lack of hesitation indicating that it was a subject he'd already put much thought into.
James nodded gravely. "That's what I thought you'd say. I only ask because traditionally, war tends to precipitate hasty marriages that all too often lead to regret for any number of reasons. Before I can give my permission, I need to be sure this isn't one of those occasions."
Scott met the other man's eyes unflinchingly. "Mr. Roberts, I've loved Betty practically since I first stepped in the door at WENN; nothing's going to change that. I'd want to marry her with or without the war," he paused, drawing a deep breath. "And if anything should happen to me during the war, well, at least we'll have had some time together and as the widow of a soldier she'd be entitled to-"
Mr. Roberts waved this aside. "That's noble and shows you've put a lot of consideration into this rather unusual situation by providing for her future, but Betty doesn't want that. She wants you." At Scott's surprised look, James half-smiled. "I've read my daughter's letters; it's obvious how she feels about you. Tell me, have you proposed to her yet?"
"No, I thought I should speak with you first, but I'm sure she suspects that's what we're talking about."
"My daughter's independent," James' eyes twinkled, but he kept his expression stern, "intelligent and headstrong. Takes after her father," he spoke with a confidential air, leaning slightly forward. "You can have my daughter, if she'll have you. I've always preferred Craig Atwater myself," Mr. Roberts shook his head regretfully as he once again sat back in his chair.
The muscles in Scott's stomach and throat that had momentarily loosened in a wave of relief suddenly clenched tenfold, threatening to strangle him. His distress showed plainly on his face as his brow furrowed. "Mr. Roberts-" he began anxiously, wondering if he'd have to explain Atwater's true personality to him.
"I'm teasing you now, son," James' face broke into a wide grin, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Anyone who has a reaction like that at the mere mention of Craig Atwater's name clearly has more good sense than a great deal of people I've known in my lifetime. And call me James. You and I are going to be very good friends."
"Very exciting," Scott answered, crossing his arms in satisfaction and leaning back in his chair at last.
The two men, now completely at ease, talked on for several minutes, their feet propped on the table that separated them, until they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in," James called, much more cheerfully than he had earlier.
Betty's head peeked around the partially open door. When she saw how relaxed they were, she stepped fully into the room. "Well, don't you two look cozy?" she smiled at each of them in turn before her eyes narrowed a little suspiciously. "And what have you been finding to talk about?"
Scott was uncharacteristically at a loss, but James was in his element. "Oh 'of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings'," he quoted with a knowing smile. "Well, are you going to give your father a hug or aren't you?" he teased her as he rose from his chair.
"Of course," she crossed the room to embrace him for a long moment. "I've missed you," she whispered.
"I've missed you, too," he responded tenderly, kissing her forehead. "Now, is there some reason you've disturbed my mid-afternoon laziness?" he demanded with mock-sternness and twinkling eyes.
"Yes, actually there is. You've both been drafted for kitchen duty. Mom needs you to put the leaf in the table," she explained.
Scott rose to his feet. "I'll do it, if you'll just point me in the right direction."
James winced. "It'll take both of us, the damned thing weighs a ton. I guess our leisure time is over, son. Let's get to work." James clapped Scott on the back before heading for the parlor door.
"You two certainly seem to have hit it off," Betty observed.
"Better than the Pittsburgh Pirates hit it all last season," he joked. "I really like your parents, Betty."
"They like you, too, I can tell. You're not done yet," she told him.
"I'm not?"
Betty shook her head. "No, you still haven't met my brothers. They should be here in just a little while, though. Are you ready for them?"
"Betty, at this point, I think I'm ready for just about anything," he said as he dropped an arm around her shoulders and led her from the room.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mary Roberts was so engrossed in her dinner preparations that she didn't know James was right behind her until he wrapped his arms around her and placed a warm kiss on the side of her neck. She spun quickly around. "James! What are you doing? They'll see," she admonished him, though she laughed a little breathlessly.
"And if they do, so what? I don't think they'd even notice. Look-" James turned his wife around so they were able to see Betty and Scott through the open door connecting the kitchen and dining room. They watched with subdued laughter as Betty slapped Scott's hand away from the food they were putting on the table and Scott returned the gesture by playfully kissing the tip of her nose.
"Well, what do you think?" Mary asked, turning her head to the side so she could see James' profile.
Her husband looked down at her. "I think I have a beautiful wife," he said, kissing her cheek.
Mary snorted in disgust. "Not about that, you ridiculous man! What do you think of him?"
"Oh, that!" James looked appraisingly at the younger man. "He's lived a hard life without much love in it. That much is clear from speaking with him for just a few minutes. He's sharp, though, and he knows what he wants. Yes, I do like him, and more importantly, he loves our little girl very much."
"That's obvious, isn't it? I think he's wonderful," Mary smiled indulgently at the oblivious couple across the room.
"Ah, but you think everyone's wonderful," James smiled just as indulgently at his wife and was just bending down to kiss her when they heard the sound of a car pulling up outside.
Delight showed clearly on both their faces. "Our boys are home. We finally have the whole family under one roof again," Mary sighed happily as she at last kissed her husband.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Betty ran down the porch steps just a few steps behind her parents, as eager as they to meet the brothers she hadn't seen for so many months. Scott hung back on the porch, leaning comfortably against a post, to give the family a chance to greet each other. He watched as two young men emerged from the automobile, both bearing a striking resemblance to Betty. The taller one turned back to the car to assist a young blonde woman who held an infant protectively in her arms. The family hugged and kissed amid exclamations of joy. Scott couldn't remember the last time he'd been glad to see anyone from his own family, except Aggie, of course.
Betty hugged her older brother, Ben, who embraced her, then held her out at arm's length. "This can't be Betty Roberts!" he exclaimed. "The Betty Roberts I know is all scrawny arms and legs with freckles on her nose!" he teased her. Then, under his breath, "Is that him?" he asked, indicating Scott with his eyes.
"Yes, that's him. Be nice," she instructed him sternly.
"I'll be nice," he promised, "just as soon as I'm sure he's worthy of you."
"Ben," Betty began in an exasperated undertone. "I don't need you to play the protective older brother. You could at least meet him before you decide-"
"C'mon, Betty, it's part of my duty as the oldest-"
"Are you two fighting already?" Their younger brother came up beside them, a wide grin splitting his face. "Don't start without me!"
"Charlie!" Betty turned to embrace her brother. "When did you get so tall?" she laughed. "When did you get so pretty?" he teased her. "I guess being in love agrees with you. Is that the new in-law?"
"Charlie," Betty groaned.
"Relax, I'm just teasing you. He looks nice," Charlie admitted.
"He is. If only you could convince Ben of that," she told him.
"I've never known anyone who could convince Ben of anything before he was ready," Ben's wife Eileen joined the group. "How are you, Betty? You haven't even met Molly yet, have you?" she offered the baby to Betty who eagerly took the little girl as Mary and James began shepherding the noisy group into the house.
"Now everybody can meet Scott inside," Mary instructed firmly. "There's no reason we should all stand out here catching our death."
The boisterous group entered the house amid teasing and laughter. Betty brought up the rear, still holding Molly. She cooed at the infant who happily gurgled back, entranced with her new-found aunt. A warm feeling engulfed Scott and he reached an arm around her waist as she came abreast of him. Seeing her with the baby had triggered something inside him, something he hadn't even known existed before. It was as if time and perspective had slipped a bit and he was being given a glimpse of his own future through hazy glass. He could so easily envision Betty with a child, their child, and he suddenly found the only other thing he'd ever really wanted to have. With his arm, he drew her tight against his body, taking her lips passionately as her free arm curled around his shoulders. When they parted, he kept his arm firmly at her waist.
"What was that for?" Betty asked breathlessly.
"Nothing. I just love you," a slow smile stole across his face and Betty's heart turned over as his heated gaze found hers. She couldn't seem to catch her breath or find her voice to reply. Molly answered for her with a delighted squeal as she wrapped her hand around Scott's tie.
Betty swallowed and took a breath, hoping to slow the frantic racing of her heart. She at last found her voice. "I think Molly likes you. Do you want to hold her?"
"Uhh, Betty, I don't think-" Scott couldn't recall the last time he'd held a baby, if he ever had.
"Oh, it's easy. There," she placed the baby in his arms, "she's taken with you. Scott, you're a natural."
He looked down at the baby who, indeed, seemed only too happy to snuggle against him. "Betty, I had no idea-" the rest of his reply trailed off as his attention was drawn back to the baby. When he looked back to Betty, she was smiling at him warmly and he could guess where her thoughts were. "C'mon, we should all go inside. They're waiting for us." Still holding Molly with one arm, he took Betty's hand with the other and led the way into the kitchen and the welcoming warmth of her family.
Far From Pittsburgh
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