Paradise Falls

By Ruth Ryan Langan

"Ruth Ryan Langan tells a story that's warm as a quilt on a snowy evening and tender as love's first kiss. PARADISE FALLS is a book that touches the heart and comforts the soul." - NORA ROBERTS

In 1890 Massachusetts, Fiona Downey accepts a teaching position in rural Michigan, populated by few farms and even fewer people. Living with the Hayden family in Paradise Falls, she is drawn into their complex relationships, especially the uneasy dynamic that seems to pit brother against brother: the older, taciturn Grayson, and Fleming, a handsome charmer. Attracted to Grayson -- but pursued by Fleming -- Fiona must decide where her true love lies -- and whether that love is worth sacrificing her dearest dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruth Ryan Langan
• Release date: Apr 29, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301704255

Ruth Ryan Langan

New York Times best-selling author Ruth Ryan Langan, who also writes under the pseudonym R. C. Ryan, is the author of over 100 novels, both contemporary romantic-suspense and historical adventure. Quite an accomplishment for this mother of five who, after her youngest child started school, gave herself the gift of an hour a day to follow her dream to become a published author. Ruth has given dozens of radio, television and print interviews across the country and Canada, and has been quoted in such diverse publications as THE WALL STREET JOURNAL and COSMOPOLITAN. Ruth has also been interviewed on CNN NEWS, as well as GOOD MORNING AMERICA.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

The Atlantic Ocean—1879

"Am I dead then?" Bridget Downey opened her eyes and struggled to make out the figure of her husband, Daniel, kneeling beside her.

You’re alive, love.

Fiona?

Daniel looked down at the little girl beside him, the mirror image of her mother. Hair dark and curly, and skin so fair she could have been made of spun glass. Laughing eyes as blue as the sky over Galway. She was the love of his life. Fiona’s fine.

The little girl snuggled closer to her father. Throughout the long voyage from their home in Ireland she had clung to him, watching as he’d lovingly tended her mother.

The storm? Bridget’s eyes widened in fear.

It’s gone now. We made it through, love. Such simple words to describe the terror he’d felt during the storm that had raged for three days and nights, tossing the ship about like a child’s toy, leaving almost everyone aboard the Molly B out of Dublin desperately ill.

While other passengers had fled the stench of sickness and death to seek the fresh air topside, Daniel had remained beside his Bridget, cleaning her, spooning what little food he could manage to beg, barter, or steal to keep her alive. When he wasn’t tending his wife, he was seeing to the needs of his beloved Fiona.

To pass the long, desperate hours he’d regaled the child with tales of his own childhood in Galway, and of his hopes and dreams for the future. Of his determination to leave the only life he and Bridget had ever known, in order to carve out a better life for their daughter in this strange new world.

Your mother fears this new land, thinking they’re barbarians because of their long Civil War. But they’ve put that behind them now. President Rutherford B. Hayes has brought dignity and honesty to the government. Daniel grew somber. You must remember his name, lass. To be a good citizen, you must know about the ones who lead your country. Education is the soul’s food, Fiona. In Ireland, all we could ever hope for would be scraps. But in America, it will be a banquet. And I intend that we will eat our fill of it. Here in this great land, instead of marrying to secure your future, you can do whatever you choose with your life.

Shouldn’t I ever marry, Da?

His eyes crinkled with humor. I hope you will one day. But only if it’s for the right reason.

What’s the right reason, Da?

Love. That’s the only reason to bind yourself to another for a lifetime, Fiona. He glanced over at his wife, and his eyes softened.

But how will I know, Da?

He took her hands in his. You’ll know, though it won’t be easy. It isn’t just the way a man looks, although that may be what first attracts you. Nor will it matter what he does. Whether a man works with his hands, or has the greatest mind in the universe, it’s what’s in his heart that matters. Never waste your love. Remember that, child. Give your heart to someone whose own heart is worthy.

Fiona knew, from her father’s solemn demeanor, that he was telling her something of great importance. And because it mattered so much to please him, she listened intently and nodded in agreement. I’ll remember, Da.

From the upper deck a great roar went up that seemed to send a shudder rippling through the entire ship.

Bridget cringed. What’s happened now?

We’ll see. Daniel removed his damp coat and wrapped it around his shivering wife before lifting her into his arms. Take hold of my belt, Fiona, so we don’t get separated.

The little girl did as he commanded, and the three of them struggled up the slippery steps, making their way cautiously to the ship’s rail. After the fetid air below, the cold, bracing wind was a shock to the system. The sun had already set, leaving the sky an inky canvas above their heads.

The ship slowed, then stopped, and the anchor was lowered as they entered the harbor.

They stared in fascination at the strange sights that assaulted their senses. Lights, so many of them—from ships at anchor, from lanterns in carriages and pony carts racing along the docks, fetching passengers and cargo in a frenzy of activity. People shouting in a dozen different languages. Men cursing. Dock workers milling about, all with a purpose.

Look, Bridget, Fiona. Daniel’s voice was hushed, as though they were in a great cathedral. We’ve reached New York harbor.

The little girl looked up at her father, tugging on his leg. Is this America, Da?

It is. And so much more, Fiona. This is why we left home and family and risked everything. I knew the crossing would cause us suffering, and for that I’m truly sorry. But this... He lifted his little daughter up, so that both his women were in his arms, staring at the dizzying blur before them. This was worth every painful moment. For that is all behind us now. What you see here is our future.

ONE

Bennett, Massachusetts – 1890

"I made it. I made it." A freckled youth of eighteen jostled his way through the crush of eager young students gathered around the list that had been nailed to the door of Bennett College. Each summer, after rigorous examinations in history, geometry, and mathematics, the list of students accepted for entrance to the small New England college was posted on the door of the chapel.

Fiona Downey took an elbow to her ribs and was shoved to one side. Though she was as eager as the others to learn her fate, she resisted the urge to push her way to the front. It wouldn’t do for the daughter of a respected Bennett professor to behave in an unruly fashion.

A respected Bennett professor. How grand that sounded. Her father had begun life in America as a gardener to a wealthy family in Boston. Fiona and her mother had lived with him in a shed on the grounds of a fine, big home with rolling lawns and an army of servants. Bridget had helped the cook in the big house until her health had begun to fail her. When Daniel found work on the grounds of Bennett College, he knew he was one step closer to his goal. He’d studied early in the morning and late into the night and had taken every test required, until at last he’d been accepted as a teacher.

For Daniel, it had been the culmination of a lifetime dream. At last, he and his family would live the good life he’d envisioned when he’d left his childhood home to seek a better life.

And now, hopefully, it would be Fiona’s turn. She stood, feeling more than a little breathless, and waited for the crowd to thin.

What about me? The freckled youth’s friend struggled to make it to the front of the crowd but was quickly shoved aside by a taller student.

I didn’t see your name. A moment later, he was greeted with a dazzling smile. You’re in, Ethan.

You’re sure? The two ignored the jostling as they studied their names on the precious list. With matching grins they raced off to share the news with family and friends.

When at last the others drifted away Fiona hurried up to scan each name until she came to her own.

She closed her eyes a moment, and fought the sting of tears. I did it. She hugged her arms about her chest and took in several deep breaths. Oh, Da, you’ll be so proud.

With a laugh of pure delight she turned and began racing across the campus, her mind awhirl. Within a few weeks she would be living her dream, preparing herself for a life as a college student.

Not many women achieved such a goal, but Fiona had never doubted she would do it. She’d had a rare opportunity that few girls her age ever experienced. With her father a history professor at Bennett, and her mother devoted to reading aloud from the classics, it was inevitable that Fiona’s mind had been filled with knowledge beyond her tender age.

Perhaps it had been the crushing poverty her parents had experienced in their homeland, or perhaps they were simply driven to succeed. Whatever the reason, they had instilled in Fiona a need to excel in everything she pursued.

She glanced skyward. Had the sun always been this bright? Or was it because of her happy news? That had her looking around, as though to store up as much of this special day as possible, so that she would never forget it. The sky was palest blue, with just a few high, puffy clouds on the horizon. The hollyhocks that climbed to the roof of the Johnson cottage seemed even more colorful as they danced on the slight breeze. Up ahead a horse and cart slowed while the driver tipped his hat to a lady with a basket on her arm. Their voices drifted toward her, and Fiona recognized the trill of Mrs. O’Connell’s laughter.

Fiona’s heart was nearly filled to bursting as she moved along the tree-shaded street lined with neat little houses owned by the college. The smallest ones were offered to the newer professors, with the larger, grander houses given to those who had been teaching the longest. The one Fiona shared with her parents was a tiny white cottage with shutters painted soft butter-yellow. A picket fence groaned under the weight of climbing roses, which her mother lovingly tended each summer. Fiona inhaled their perfume as she sailed up the steps of the porch.

Mum. Da. The door slammed at her back. Oh, you’re going to be so happy when I tell you... Her voice trailed off when she caught sight of her mother’s tear-stained face. What is it, Mum? What’s happened?

Instead of a reply, her mother collapsed into a chair and buried her face in her handkerchief. A bearded man stepped from her parents’ bedroom, unrolling his sleeves.

Fiona recognized Dr. Hadly. His grave manner had her heart skipping several beats. What’s happened to Da? Has he been hurt?

The doctor shook his head and placed a hand on her arm. I’m sorry, Fiona. Your father’s gone.

Gone? She shrank from his touch. What are you saying?

The old man sighed. Of all the things he was called upon to do, this was always the hardest. Especially when the loved ones were given no warning. It was his heart, Fiona. He glanced at Bridget Downey, who sat quietly weeping. You’re going to have to be strong now for your mother.

No! Fiona started past him, determined to see for herself. You’re wrong, Doctor. Da isn’t dead. He can’t be. He can’t.

Child. The doctor was about to stop her until he saw her eyes—a little too bright. And the way she was holding herself, so rigid and straight, as though afraid to bend even an inch, for fear of snapping. He stepped away from the closed door and watched in quiet resignation as Fiona shoved it open and stepped inside.

Da. She stared at the figure on the bed. He was dressed, as always, in a proper dark suit. Despite the expense, he owned two of them, so that one would always be clean and perfectly pressed. His tie had been loosened, the neck of his crisp white shirt unbuttoned, the only sign of anything out of the ordinary.

Fiona had always loved the way her father looked. A bit stern, perhaps, to his students, but the twinkle in his blue eyes always gave away his sense of humor. Beneath his professor’s demeanor lurked the heart of a sweet, gentle tease.

She loved the way his slightly graying hair was always perfectly combed. Seeing it mussed, she reached out and smoothed it away from his forehead. Her hand paused in midair. Had his eyelids flickered just a bit?

Of course. The doctor was wrong, as she’d suspected.

She dropped down onto the edge of the bed and caught her father’s hands in hers. There was still some warmth there, though they seemed heavy to the touch. She’d always loved Da’s hands. So big and yet so gentle. The way they squeezed her shoulder when he was pleased with something she’d done. The way he tugged on a lock of her hair when he was teasing her about something silly.

I made it, Da. She stared hungrily at his face, desperate to see him open his eyes and give her that smile that never failed to lighten her burden and touch her heart. I’ve been accepted to Bennett College.

Had he squeezed her hand? She looked down, but could see no movement.

Releasing his hands she leaned over him, pressing her ear to his chest, desperate to hear his calm, steady heartbeat. I couldn’t wait to tell you, Da. I know how proud this makes you. We’ll be together now in the classroom. You’ll lecture and I’ll take notes. And afterward, we’ll walk home together and talk and talk. Oh, the things we’ll be able to share now.

In the other room she could hear soft weeping, but here in the bedroom, there was only an eerie silence. It frightened her more than her mother’s cries.

Don’t leave me, Da. She shook him slightly and waited to hear him say something. Anything. Please, Da. I can’t bear it.

She could hear the high, sharp edge of hysteria in her voice and bit her lip to stop the trembling. To keep from screaming, she turned her face into his shirt and breathed him in, filling her lungs, her heart, her very soul with the smell of him, needing to store it up for all the long, lonely years to come.

Even while she struggled to deny the truth, it slipped through her defenses. The tears she’d been fighting now spilled over, adding to her pain. Through the mist, through the numbness that settled over her like a shroud, came the awful realization that her father was gone. Truly gone.

This day that had begun as her greatest triumph was now a day of bleak, unrelieved pain. Somewhere in a small, dark corner of her mind was the knowledge that her world of books and letters, her life on this cozy, comfortable campus, all her sweet dreams for the future, had just died along with her beloved Da.

* * *

It’s time, Mum.

Fiona drew an arm around her mother’s shoulders and led her toward the waiting horse and wagon, where their trunks were already stowed.

A long, drawn-out sigh seemed to well up from deep within as Bridget trailed a hand along the porch railing and plucked a rose from the vine, before burying her face in it. The look of her, so frail and beaten, twisted a knife in Fiona’s heart.

Mother and daughter spoke not a word as they rode to the train station. Once there they watched in silence as the driver unloaded their meager belongings..

So little, Fiona thought, to show for a lifetime. A life filled with love and laughter, a life of struggle and happiness they’d shared together.

Together. How was it possible that now, just two weeks after losing her father, she must lose her mother as well?

The days since her father’s death were still a blur. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The simple box in the parlor, flanked by vases filled with Bridget’s precious flowers and Daniel’s beloved books. Students and faculty forming a steady stream as they stopped by the house to offer condolences. The funeral, a solemn affair held in the chapel of the college, and afterward, the storm-tossed skies opening up to drench the mourners who stood in a small cluster around the open grave.

The day after Daniel Downey was put in the ground, an official from the college had arrived to announce that Bridget and Fiona would have to vacate the house, to make room for the professor who would take Daniel’s place on the faculty. A family friend, Professor Norton, aware of their dire circumstances, had offered Fiona an opportunity to teach in a school in northern Michigan, and live with a host family.

Paradise Falls is nothing like Bennett, my dear. It’s a farming community, and the work will be hard. Because it’s so late in the summer, most positions have already been filled, and there are few choices left.

I don’t mind hard work, Professor.

I know. He patted her arm. Fortunately, you’ll have very few expenses, since your lodging includes meals. But you’ll be far from home, living among strangers.

She’d felt a moment of absolute terror, before seeing the questioning look on her mother’s face. She owed it to Bridget to be brave and strong. Owed it, as well, to her father’s memory. I’ll take the position, Professor. I’m grateful for the opportunity to earn my keep.

And you, Bridget? Philip Norton turned to the woman who seemed to have aged years since losing her beloved Daniel. She was like a flower cut from the vine, wilted and fading a bit more each day. Where will you go?

I’ve written my sister, Nola, in Chicago. She has agreed to take me in until I can find some means of supporting myself.

The professor turned away, but not before Fiona caught his look of utter disbelief. The thought of Bridget Downey supporting herself seemed ludicrous. It only reinforced Fiona’s realization that her mother’s situation was desperate. Daniel had always been his wife’s fierce champion, treating her with such great care. Fiona had followed his example, shouldering more and more of the responsibilities as she’d watched her mother’s strength ebb through the years.

Now mother and daughter stood in the train station, stiff and awkward, as they struggled to hold back a torrent of conflicting emotions.

The days will go quickly. You’ll see, Mum.

Bridget twisted her handkerchief around and around her hand.

Such a soft hand, Fiona thought. Guilt and fear lay like a stone in her chest at the realization that she was abandoning her responsibility. It didn’t matter that she had no choice. It was just one more layer of pain to endure. It’s only for a year, Mum. I’ll save my money and as soon as I have enough to send for you, we’ll be together.

At a call from the conductor, the two women fell into each other’s arms and choked back sobs.

I’ll be fine, Fiona. Bridget’s voice was little more than a strained whisper. We’ll both be fine. You’ll write often?

Every day, Mum.

Hush now. Don’t make idle promises. Bridget pressed a finger to Fiona’s lips. You’ll be busy with your new responsibilities. Just write when you can.

The conductor gave a final call and the two women peeled apart, step by painful step. Fiona stood watching as her mother climbed aboard the train that would take her to Chicago, and her sister’s tiny row house, where Bridget would share a bed with several little nieces.

As the train slowly slipped from the station, Fiona caught sight of her mother’s tear-streaked face in the window. She waved until the train dipped out of sight, then sank down on a wooden bench, drained beyond belief.

When the boarding call sounded for the train that would take her to Michigan, she refused to think about what she was doing as she put one foot in front of the other, forcing herself to climb aboard and find a seat.

The cars overflowed with businessmen in stiff, dark suits and women carrying squalling babies, calling sharply to older children who giggled and fidgeted. In the oppressive summer air the cars reeked of sweat and humanity, of rotting meat and overripe fruit carried in baskets or wrapped in linen. A childhood memory, of a ship’s fetid hold crowded with moaning passengers, crept into Fiona’s mind, leaving her momentarily stunned.

As the train pulled from the station, Fiona closed her eyes and fought the weariness that seemed to have drained her of all her strength. At first she was annoyed by the clatter of wheels, and had to fight a feeling of nausea at the awkward swaying motion of the car. What had she been thinking, to accept a position so far from home? She began to entertain thoughts of getting off at the next stop and making her way back to Bennett. At least there she would be surrounded by people and places that were comfortable and familiar. What did it matter if she had no home, no means of supporting herself? Even if she couldn’t use her education, she could always take a job as a housemaid.

Though it was more than a little tempting, she knew she wasn’t ready to give up the dream. She had a fine mind. Hadn’t Da said as much? She owed it to herself, to Da, to her mum, to teach. Still, the thought of giving up, of returning to Bennett, was so tempting.

As the train gradually ate up the miles of track, she was lulled into a troubled sleep. It was the first rest she’d experienced in days.

Dear Mum

I hope your train ride was of much shorter duration than mine, and more pleasing to the eye and ear. I was recently jolted from sleep by a series of ear-splitting whistles as our train came to a sudden, shuddering halt. I watched as the conductor stepped down and shouted to a farmer and his dog herding cows across the tracks.

I suspect, from the flat fields stretching as far as the eye can see, that we must be in Ohio.

Fiona paused in her letter to her mother to stare out the window. From the map she’d prepared before leaving Massachusetts, she was able to keep track of her journey. The first rush of passengers had disembarked in New York, with more following in Pennsylvania. Now the train car was nearly empty, except for an old man and a little boy. Grandfather and grandson? she wondered.

She couldn’t recall her own grandparents, or the life she’d known in Ireland. Her mother had come from Cork, her father from Galway. Both her parents had carried the lilt of home in their brogues, as did their daughter, despite her many years in this land.

Fiona glanced at the wee lad, asleep on the old man’s lap, and felt a sudden rush of pain at her loss. It was still so fresh and new, this idea that her father was truly gone, and it hit her at the oddest times, leaving her struggling not to weep aloud.

The herd of cows cleared the tracks and the conductor climbed aboard. After a series of toots and whistles, the train began inching forward. Mile after mile of flat fields followed, and though Fiona tried to absorb as much as she could of the countryside, the monotony of it had her closing her eyes once more. The pencil slipped from nerveless fingers; the letter to her mother forgotten.

After several hours Fiona again awoke. Someone had opened a window, and she breathed in fresh clean air that carried the hint of evergreen. There were clear sparkling lakes and apple orchards, the fruit heavy on the branches. As the hills became steeper, she could see, off in the distance, a farmhouse looking lost in the fields of wheat and corn and tomatoes stretching as far as the eye could see.

Despite her weariness Fiona sat up straighter, wondering again at the strange fate that had brought her so far from all that was comfortable and familiar. She couldn’t deny the little ripple of excitement at the thought of the town that held her future. Paradise Falls. She’d seen pictures of Niagara. Would this be as impressive? Did people come from all over to see this natural phenomenon? And what of the children she would be teaching? She imagined herself opening all those eager young minds to history and mathematics and literature, could see in her mind’s eye a lovely ivy-covered schoolhouse, and perhaps a chapel nearby, much like the one at Bennett.

Oh, it was such a lovely dream. One that had her smiling as she bent to her letter.

I anticipate the end of my journey, Mum, and the beginning of my new life. I tried to find Paradise Falls on my map, but to no avail. No matter. Soon enough I shall be there, to see and experience it firsthand.

With love and prayers that you are resting comfortably,

Your loving daughter

The train moved through a forest of pine trees tall enough to blot out all trace of the sun. By the time they came out on the other side, the air had grown cold, forcing Fiona to reach for her shawl. With her face to the window she watched a spectacular sunset reflected in the water of the lake that seemed to stretch all the way to the horizon.

Seeing the conductor passing through, she lifted a hand to stop him. How long before we reach Paradise Falls?

The old man tugged on his beard. Not until morning, miss. That’s the end of the line, just after Little Bavaria.

Little Bavaria? She liked the sound of it. Will we cross the ocean, then?

He chuckled. "It’s right here in Michigan. These are German settlements, miss. As you’d expect, most of the folks living in Little Bavaria are from the Alpine regions of Germany and Switzerland. I guess the rocky hillsides of northern Michigan remind them of the land

Reviews for Paradise Falls

[wndy2011 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Fiona had lost so much already. And now as she traveled across the country to become the teacher in Paradise Falls, she began to hope that her life would turn a corner and the teachings her father and mother had taught her would truly be a blessing to her and all those lives she touched. Grayson was a man who had worked hard all his life to eek out a living on the land. Everything he had was earned from hard work and sweat. When the two meet, lives will forever be changed and love will find its way into hearts grown cold as the winter lands of Paradise Falls, Michigan.

[benn9314 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A great book. Has everything ,love,history, and entertaining all the way through