Apples of Gold Read online

  Praise for

  Apples of Gold

  “Lisa brilliantly weaves the important message of purity into this powerful little parable—a must-read for every young woman you care about!”

  —SHANNON ETHRIDGE, MA, best-selling author of Every Young Woman’s Battle

  “Lisa Samson’s Apples of Gold is the perfect apple of a story—a beautiful tale on the outside with delicious substance underneath! In an age when too many girls are confused about what real love involves, mothers and daughters should not miss this important parable.”

  —ANGELA HUNT, author of Uncharted

  “A beautiful tale, simply told, Apples of Gold shines with truth. Give this book as a gift to the young girls in your family. You’ll be glad you did.”

  —ROBIN LEE HATCHER, author of A Carol for Christmas

  “My fifteen-year-old daughter stayed up late to finish Apples of Gold. She loved the story’s fairy-tale format, and the message came through beautifully yet subtly.”

  —DEBORAH RANEY, author of A Vow to Cherish and Remember to Forget

  With love and prayers

  for Ty, Jake, and Gwynnie;

  in thankfulness for Joy and

  Bill, who chose the better path;

  and for Will, who stood strong.

  Once upon a time, many years ago, true love walked hand in hand with kisses and promises, and decisions were made to last forever. In such a time, two girls received a summons to appear before the governor. Governor St. Juste tended the island with the gentle care of a loving father. He knew each inhabitant by name, and on the morn of each one’s birth, she expected to discover a basket of chocolate and fruit on her doorstep. No one was ever disappointed.

  “Are you nervous?” Kate asked her sister as they stood in the governor’s palatial waiting room.

  “Terrified!” whispered Liza, reaching out for the comfort of Kate’s hand.

  “But he’s always been so kind.”

  “It’s true. Which leads me to wonder what we’ve done that he should call us before him!”

  Governor St. Juste welcomed the young women into his office, a large room paneled in walnut carved with designs of fruit and flowing ribbons. Towering mirrors opposite a wall of windows reflected the blue of the afternoon sky. The appointments of the room appeared almost as magnificent as the governor, but in truth, upon close inspection, the most majestic wood and mirrors could not eclipse the character of the man himself. Even the shining golden medallion of his office, hanging from a stain band around his neck, did not outshine the regal air with which he moved or the kindliness that glowed in his eyes.

  He beckoned them in with a sweep of his arm. “Liza and Kate, come sit here by my desk. I have something to give you.”

  The girls, pink with relief and delight, settled themselves upon two chairs facing the gleaming surface. They adjusted their skirts just so and crossed their feet at the ankles as their mother had taught them. They dared not speak, but nodded as though his words held almost as much importance as, “Let there be…”

  He eased back in his chair and clasped his hands across the front of his light blue, quilted waistcoat, idly fingering the medallion. “You’re both getting older now, you know. Many years ago your father and mother approached me and asked me to set you aside for a special purpose. The time has come for me to fulfill that promise.”

  Kate, just seventeen, wiggled in her seat and raised her eyebrows at Liza, soon to turn eighteen.

  Liza refolded her hands in her lap. “Thank you, sir.”

  He cleared his throat. “You know your father and I go back to our boyhoods together, don’t you? My father’s carpenter was his father.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Liza said. Father told them often how their family had served the St. Justes for generations. How Father had even saved the governor’s life years ago, before they came of age. Father said a strong bond like no other knit them together that day.

  “Yes, well. In a week’s time, my eldest son is returning home from his tour of duty with the Royal Navy. He will need someone to care for his house. You’re from a good, hearty family, hard workers all. Your parents are responsible, faithful citizens of the island, completely reliable and dependable.” He rapped his knuckles on the beautiful desk the girls’ father, a carpenter like his father before him, had made only the previous year. “Not to mention the history between your father and me. No doubt he’s regaled you with stories of how much we loved to fish together and wander the hills.”

  The girls nodded. If James Carpenter, their father, carried one regret, it was his inability to step into the life of his good friend. Privilege like that belonged to only a few. On the other hand, James was known and respected as a gifted craftsman, which was a privilege in itself.

  “All in all, you seem to be strong, able girls.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Kate.

  Her voice echoes sweetly, Liza thought.

  “Of course, m’lord,” said Liza. Not nearly as pretty as her sister, or as silver throated, she tried to sound as agreeable as she felt. Truly she couldn’t remember ever being this excited, this honored. Or this nervous.

  “Good, then!” The governor reached down and opened a desk drawer. From its recesses he pulled out two large wine red apples. Beautiful, shining, perfect specimens of fruit.

  Liza had never seen such pleasing food in all her life, for her father, royal carpenter though he was, possessed not the riches for such luxuries. The crimson skin glowed as if from within, and Liza just knew the flesh was the sweetest found anywhere.

  “Oh my!” Liza said. “How beautiful!”

  The governor nodded. “Yes, quite. Lovely, aren’t they?”

  Kate reached out. “I’m sure it is the tastiest fruit on the island. I cannot wait to try one!”

  The governor’s brows leaped toward his hairline. “Oh, but they’re not for you. They’re for Claude, my son. I’m entrusting them to your care until he arrives, after which time, you’ll join him at his home. But we have need for only one of you to accompany my son. It will be up to him to decide between the two of you.”

  Liza’s heart stuttered. To work in the home of the governor’s son! More than a simple girl dared to hope for. Only the most trusted citizens of the island cared for those in the governor’s household.

  Kate thrust out her hands. “Oh I’ll take perfect care of them, Your Grace!”

  “Wonderful! But do take only one.” And he placed a single apple in her hands. “And what of you, Liza? Will you care for the fruit until his arrival?”

  “I’d be honored, sir. But might you hold on to the fruit for just a few minutes more? I shall return with a basket and a length of cloth in which to cradle the apple.”

  “Good! Good! I like the way you think, Liza.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Kate immediately held out her apple for the governor to retrieve. “Perhaps this would be safer in Liza’s basket as well.”

  “Oh no. No, no. Liza can’t take care of your fruit, Kate. That is impossible.”

  Kate blew out air softly over her bottom lip. “It’s such a long walk back to the cottage. I do believe I can hold it tenderly enough on my own.”

  “As you wish, child. You are the guardian. I will not make you care for it in any other way than how you see fit.”

  When the girls walked away from his office, Kate displayed the apple with pride and a bit of bravado. “I’m certain everybody we pass thinks I am the luckiest girl in the world!”

  The prettiest, too, thought Liza, as she walked along empty handed. If not a bit of a showoff. Certainly Liza appeared out of favor somehow, the girl with neither the apple nor the pretty face. No matter. When Mother and Father needed something done right, they came to Liza. When
the children chose participants in schoolyard games, they always snatched up Liza in the first round, knowing her heart was strong, her aim true. She rarely received invitations to the parties, and never inherited the castoff clothing of the rich girls the way Kate did, but Liza relished one thought: she was smarter than Kate and knew that prettifying oneself or laughing like a crystal brook didn’t ultimately please anyone for very long.

  Oh, but Kate could be such fun! And to her credit, she walked slowly enough, even if she was only doing it to show off.

  They strolled past the governor’s palace and soon came to the smaller house, large by the standards of regular folk, that the governor had commissioned for his son. The girl’s father had worked hard on the new interior, and before the final painting was hung in place and the new furniture arranged, he’d guided them on a tour through dozens of rooms. Besides the palace of the governor himself, no finer place existed on the island, Liza was certain.

  “I can hardly imagine working here,” she breathed.

  “I can all too easily imagine it,” Kate laughed, “which defines my lot in life! Too expensive a taste for the circumstances.”

  Liza rubbed her sister’s arm. “No doubt someday a rich merchant will come into town, see you down at market, Kate, and fall quickly and completely in love with you.”

  “I’d rather have the governor’s son!” she giggled.

  With a final glance at the house, Liza hurried on ahead to fetch the basket and the cloth from home as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t do to keep the governor waiting. Though nice enough, he remained the governor, and who knew what milled inside the heads of powerful men like him?

  She breezed into the house where her mother busied herself at the table. “Good afternoon, Mother.”

  Mother was a comfy woman, with ankles that matched her large heart and eyes greener than the water of the bay. She set down a freshly peeled carrot. “Liza, dear! How did you fare with the governor?”

  “Splendidly!” Liza kissed her mother’s cheek. “The governor gave us gorgeous apples to tend for his son, who’s coming home in a week’s time. We may be hired to work in his house!”

  “Lovely! It seems like only yesterday Master Claude went away for his stint in the navy. So where is this splendid apple, then?”

  Liza related her plan.

  “Good thinking, lovey!”

  Her father, sanding a freshly built table out in the sun, said through the window, “That’s using your noggin! I suppose your sister’s still on the way home? Carrying her apple in hand, no less?”

  Liza and her mother laughed. But not too long or too hard, for Liza quickly gathered her basket and cloth, then sped out the sunlit doorway back toward the palace.

  She passed Kate, talking to Ian, their neighbor.

  “Kate! What are you doing?”

  Ian held the apple in his hands. True, Liza would never describe him as reckless, but for Kate to take such a chance!

  Kate retrieved the apple and tossed her hair. “Ian only wanted to see it. Look! It’s just the same.”

  But Liza noticed that fingerprints, like yeast on a grape, now dusted the shining crimson. “No matter, Kate. You can polish it up just fine at home. I’m off to fetch mine. Wish me luck.”

  The two offered good wishes and, smiling, waved her off.

  Liza picked up her pace. Hurried past the shops and church. Called only brief greetings to friends and neighbors.

  Finally, she waited again outside the governor’s office to be summoned inside. When she stood before his desk once more, he nodded and held up a finger. “I have a good feeling about you, Liza. You seem like a young woman with her head firmly attached to her shoulder. No fooling you, eh?”

  “I hope not, Your Grace. I try to keep my wits about me at all times.”

  “That’s plain to see. Well then, here you are. Come get the apple.”

  “If you would, sir, I have just the spot.” Liza stepped forward and opened the lid of her basket. A nest of fabric readied a perfect resting place for the fruit.

  “Indeed!” The governor placed the apple just as Liza herself would have. “Do you know much about my son, Claude?”

  “Only that he’s been away and that he’s favored in your eyes. Father speaks well of him.”

  “Then you have heard correctly. It’s an honor for you to be considered for this position.” He laid a hand on her arm. “I have a feeling you’ll present him this apple in as fine a condition as you’ve received it yourself.”

  “By the grace of God, m’lord.”

  “Oh, surely you speak the truth. Now, off with you. In one week’s time, on the stroke of noon, Claude will be arriving for the first time at the house built for him. I expect you and your sister to be there waiting. With your apples.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  After exchanging good-byes and good wishes with the governor, Liza curtsied and left.

  For Liza, the week stretched out more slowly than a lazy river. She kept the apple tucked away in the basket and removed it each morning only to shine it. Perhaps her imagination ran wild, but the apple seemed with each sunrise even more beautiful, more ripe, and more delicious.

  Poor Kate. Polish the apple though she might, Ian’s fingerprints still sullied the gorgeous scarlet skin. The fruit had lost the brilliance and the value it once possessed. Trying to convince herself that she was only sharing its beauty with those around her, Kate placed it on the kitchen table. She even accused Liza of selfishness for keeping hers hidden away. But Liza knew in her heart she was doing the right thing. The governor had not given her the apple for others to enjoy, not even for her own delight. He had entrusted it to her care for Claude on that special day when he would set up his fine new household.

  Let Kate point her finger all she wanted; Liza would continue on exactly as planned. Mother and Father both agreed, but not too loudly lest they hurt Kate’s feelings. For although Kate was more beautiful than most, and so a little vain, and careless as well, they loved her and wanted only the best for her.

  Soon Ian had spread the news of Kate’s beautiful apple far and wide. Islanders knocked on the door begging for a peek. Kate, happily the center of attention, showed off the apple with pride. Ian’s fingerprints concerned her at first. But before long, after hearing all the compliments and flattery-filled pleadings to hold the fruit, Kate relented, letting the onlookers take the apple into their hands.

  The son of the admiral of the navy was a handsome fellow named Stuart and was one of the most sought-after young men on the island. When he looked deep into Kate’s eyes and asked for a bite, Kate lost all reason. She’d admired Stuart from after ever since she could remember. Like someone in a trance, she offered the fruit up to him, and as his hand reached forward, she panicked for a moment, thinking about what would happen next week on the steps of Claude’s home. But Stuart caressed her cheek and complimented her on her eyes, hair, and feet. Before Kate could gather her senses, his bite mark marred the precious skin. The sweet meat inside at once began to wither.

  And Stuart, having gotten what he wanted, left.

  After that, Kate cared little about the apple. One bite or seven or twelve, what did it matter? Imperfect, unwhole, unlovely, it would never please the governor’s son. Not now. Not ever. But perhaps her beauty might win his favor. Men appreciated a comely face and a winning smile more than apples anyway! Yes, she would make sure that Claude had never seen a prettier girl than Kate Carpenter. She sunned her face so that her skin glowed with a coppery cast and her fair hair shimmered in long golden streams. She flaunted her beauty before her sister.

  Poor Liza became more unsure of her attributes with each passing day. But she persisted in her plan, certain that in a few days’ time she would hold out her basket and watch Claude lift out the perfect fruit, smile, and say, “Well done!”

  A plain girl like her could at least hope for that.

  Of course, his eyes might then turn to Kate, and the sight of her graceful
beauty would ensure him, ushering him into love for her alone. And Liza would stand there, holding out an apple, accepting the position of housekeeper, while Kate was invited to flounce about in fancy dresses, attend endless parties, and order her sister about.

  After such thoughts, Liza considered pitching the apple into the bay, but something inside her, all the love and prayers heaped upon her by Mother and Father, bade her to hang on tightly, respect what she’d been given, hope for the best, and cling to the belief that her sacrifice would deliver its own reward.

  The seventh day dawned over the island like a warm Easter morning sun after a windy, rainy night. Liza threw back the bedclothes and jumped to her feet. What lay ahead remained a mystery, but she prepared herself as well as she knew how.

  Kate prattled on with excitement at breakfast, more beautiful than Liza had ever seen her. Mother had rolled her shining hair in rags the night before, and curls played about her face like water sprites. Her blue eyes mirrored the splendor of the sky and the sea, and her lips, pinker than geraniums, smiled as though the best day of her life had just begun.

  Liza suspected maybe it had, despite the condition of Kate’s apple. Her sister’s fruit—bitten, brown, and a soppy mess—turned Liza’s stomach. But Kate didn’t seem to care at all. Liza wished she might own such confidence.

  Nevertheless, Liza bound her dark hair in a scarlet ribbon to match the apple, and slipped into her best gown, simple and pale yellow, and not nearly as pretty as Kate’s.

  It won’t get any better than this, she thought with a sigh.

  Hand in hand, the sisters set out toward Claude’s new home. Her step light, Kate chattered and waved to all her friends. But Liza squirmed uncomfortably in the grip of her own nerves. Still, poor Kate. That apple remained the saddest little piece of fruit Liza had ever seen. Even now, Kate held it behind her in a small drawstring bag.

  By the time they reached the marble steps of the ornate home, painted a cheerful salmon color, thirty minutes remained until noon.