“What did that lowlife do this time?”
“Actually, he did me a favor. He exposed my father for the coward he is.” She gripped her shaking hands together and turned to face him, needing to see his reaction to what she was about to say. “Not only did Randall deny that I was his daughter, it turns out he’d been lying to me all along.” She drew in a breath. “He never married my mother. That’s why my grandparents let me believe he was dead. They didn’t want me to know that . . . I was illegitimate. The product of a sinful union, not a romantic fairy tale after all.” Fresh tears burned her eyes. How humiliating to admit that everything she’d believed about the man had been false.
For a moment, she thought Jonathan was going to take her in his arms. Tell her it didn’t matter to him.
But instead he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, Em. You must have been terribly upset.”
She nodded. “I finally realized I was wasting my time. My father was never going to love me the way I wanted, since I’m nothing but a reminder of his sordid past. His dirty little secret now exposed. That’s when I decided to come home.” She held her breath. Would Jonathan let his guard down at last? Tell her he was happy to have her back? That he’d missed her?
But his face went blank, the light of compassion fading from his eyes. He gave a laugh that sounded more like a sneer. “It all makes sense now. Your father let you down, shattered the last of your illusions, and you ran away.”
The harshness of his tone twisted her heart like wet laundry through a wringer. Her lungs ached. Her throat burned. She took a jerky step back. “I didn’t run away. I came back because I finally figured out where I belong.”
He stared at her warily, like she was a stranger. When had she lost his trust?
“I came back,” she said slowly, “because I’m in love with you. And I needed to tell you that.”
She swallowed, her pulse beating wildly in her throat. This was not how she imagined revealing her feelings to him. It was supposed to be a happy moment over candlelight and shepherd’s pie. She blinked away the moisture in her eyes, willing him to understand that she was telling the truth.
He closed his eyes, his face awash with pain. Tired lines formed around his mouth.
“Don’t you see, Emma?” he said wearily. “I’m always your second choice. Your father broke your heart, and you beat a hasty retreat home to the next best thing. Good old Jonathan. Always there when you need him.” His jaw tightened. “Sorry, but I’m not willing to settle for second best anymore.”
She inhaled sharply, her hand fluttering to her neck. “You’re wrong, Jonathan. I chose you over my father. Randall wanted me to stay. He even pulled out of the election to focus on his family. But I told him it was too late because I’d finally realized where my heart belonged. Where it’s always been. With you.”
He stared at her for a few long seconds, his brown eyes now filled with what looked like pity. Then he shook his head. “Tell Aunt Trudy I’ll stay at the inn tonight and be back for my things in the morning.”
Then he turned on his heel and left her standing alone, the smell of her untouched dinner lingering in the air, as the sound of his retreating footsteps echoed down the stairs.
CHAPTER 38
In the lavatory at the Cricket Bat Inn, Jonathan sluiced cold water over his head, shivering as the droplets slid down his neck and chest. The frigid tiled floor added to his discomfort, but he welcomed the pain. After an agonizing night spent reliving the horrid day before, he couldn’t stay in bed for one more second. Now in the predawn darkness, he toweled himself dry and considered his next move.
Too early to go home. Knowing Aunt Trudy, she’d likely put Emma in his room while he was away in London. He’d wait until later in the day to go back there, but for now, he needed clarity and perhaps some divine guidance. He hoped to find that in the solitude of their parish church.
Jonathan returned to the room he’d rented, got dressed, and vacated the premises, welcoming the hush of the morning that enveloped the streets as he walked.
After about twenty minutes, when he reached the old stone building, he quietly let himself inside and slid into one of the pews. Kneeling, he bowed his head and waited for God’s presence to wash over him, anticipating the measure of comfort it would provide.
Lord, help me to understand why you brought Emma back into my life. I’d made peace with the fact that I’d never see her again. I’d dealt with the grief and the heartache, believing it was your will for me. But now . . . now I’m not sure of anything. What would you have me do?
He waited, listening for the still, small voice inside him.
Love. The word floated into his consciousness.
Yes, he loved Emma. Probably always would. But he couldn’t be sure the feelings she now professed for him were real. Her timing was more than suspect. If she’d told him back in Canada when he asked her to marry him that she loved him, he might have believed her.
But she hadn’t said a word. Only cited the reasons why she couldn’t leave Canada. Was it so wrong for him to want to come first for once?
You’re mine.
The random thought jarred him. “Yes, I know,” he muttered aloud. “I’m a child of God. But so is everyone. How does that make me special?”
“It doesn’t.”
Jonathan’s head whipped up, and he expected to see the vicar. Instead, an older gentleman stood in the aisle, leaning on a broom. He wore a burlap apron over a beige shirt and red suspenders. The caretaker, most likely.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.” The man’s chest shook with a chuckle.
Curiosity won out over Jonathan’s desire for solitude. “What did you mean when you said it doesn’t make me special?”
The man entered the pew and sat down beside him. “Everyone is equal in the eyes of God. If you’re looking for Him to make you His favorite, you’ll be waiting a long time.”
Jonathan gazed ahead at the cross on the wall. “Actually, I’m more interested in being the favorite of someone here on earth. Unfortunately I came in a dismal second.”
“A woman?”
“How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.” The man folded his hands over his belly. “May I offer a word of advice?”
Jonathan sighed and nodded.
“Love should never be viewed as a competition. Take it from a man who’s been married nearly forty years. Love requires compromise and sacrifice. There’s no place for an ego in marriage. Whenever I get caught up in anger or resentment, I try to remember my favorite verse from Ephesians: ‘Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.’” His voice rang with certainty over the cavernous space. Then he turned kind eyes on Jonathan. “Do you think you can put your pride aside and simply love this woman without expecting anything in return?”
A thousand emotions flooded Jonathan’s chest as the truth resonated within him. His ego had gotten in the way. It had swelled like a bloated river, wiping out the pureness of his devotion. He’d loved Emma unconditionally for so long without asking anything of her. Yet recently, he’d turned their relationship into a contest, a battle of wills and self-righteousness.
He hung his head. “You’re right. My pride did get the better of me, and I did something I said I’d never do. I made her choose. When she didn’t choose me, I left her. And when she changed her mind, I punished her.” A hot wave of shame engulfed him. He was no better than Randall, rejecting her that way.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, son. Selfless love is difficult to achieve. Even after all these years, I still struggle with it.” The older man chuckled again.
“What do I do now?” Jonathan’s voice scraped over his raw emotions.
“I guess you have to ask yourself one important question.” The caretaker stood and looked down at him. “Is she worth it?”
Jonathan closed his eyes, allowing the walls to fall away and love to surface. “She is. Most definitely.
”
“Then that’s all you need to know.” The man nodded. “You have a nice day now.”
Jonathan watched him push his broom up the aisle and disappear from view. The fellow was right. What did it matter how Emma had come to the realization that she loved him? Didn’t he owe it to himself to explore the possibility that her feelings were genuine?
He said one more round of prayers, asking for God’s guidance, before he grabbed his cap off the pew and set out for home.
Emma awoke with the thrum of a headache. Little sleep after hours of crying would do that to a person. She shifted to her side and inhaled Jonathan’s scent on the pillow. Why was she torturing herself this way? Tonight, she would find a new pillow with a freshly laundered case. Maybe then she’d be able to forget Jonathan long enough to get a decent sleep.
Lord, please take this heartache away. Allow me to let him go, to wish him well at Oxford while I get on with my new venture.
Releasing a heavy sigh, she dragged herself out of bed. Jonathan would be returning soon to pack his things. And she needed to be out of the flat when he did. She’d go for a long walk through the village. Maybe catch up with some old friends and neighbors while she was at it. Hopefully that would take her mind off Jonathan and the pain he’d inflicted last night.
What about his pain? The unwelcome thought mocked her.
She could only imagine how hurt he’d been the day she’d dismissed his marriage proposal. If only she’d been ready to accept his love then, how different it might have been. But there was no use in wasting time on regrets.
After dressing quickly, Emma went out to the kitchen, prepared to tell Trudy her plans. But there was no sign that she was up yet. So Emma jotted her a quick note and propped it against the vase of now-wilted flowers.
After grabbing her shawl to ward off the morning chill, she descended the stairs. Outside, she paused to breathe in the wonderful heather-scented air before heading down High Street, where she passed the butcher shop, Franny’s bakery, and the post office. Realizing it was still too early to call on anyone, she turned down the dirt road that led toward the river. Her pace increased with a sudden urge to reach her favorite spot—the sloping banks near the old stone bridge. There, under the ancient willow that bent toward the water, was Emma’s sanctuary. The place she felt safest, the place that brought her closest to God.
Emma made her way past the low branches and sat down. Even though the grass was damp, she didn’t mind. She tucked her skirt around her ankles and inhaled the cool air, allowing some of her tension to seep away. For a minute, she could almost pretend that nothing had changed, that Grandad was alive, and that her friendship with Jonathan was still strong.
“Oh, Grandad,” she whispered. “Did I do the wrong thing buying Trudy’s shop? I only wanted to help her . . . and Jonathan.”
She swallowed a lump in her throat and stared out over the water, watching a pair of ducks bob for food. Gradually her muscles relaxed as she soaked in the calming atmosphere. She drew in a few deep breaths and dug deep for her usual optimism. No matter how it turned out with Jonathan, Emma would do her best to help Trudy make the dress shop a success. And eventually Jonathan would forgive her. They might never get back to their former closeness, but in time, she prayed they could at least get past the hurt and remain friends.
“I thought I might find you here.” Jonathan’s voice came from behind her.
Emma jumped, her pulse sprinting like an overwound watch. What was he doing here? Was he too seeking peace in their old haven? Or had he purposely come to find her?
She glanced over her shoulder as he descended the slope. When he reached her, he pointed to the space beside her. “May I?” Haggard lines hugged his cheeks. It looked like he hadn’t gotten any more sleep than she.
Emma nodded, pulling her shawl tighter across her shoulders. A breeze teased strands of hair out of her braid. “Why are you here, Jonathan?” she asked quietly.
“I wanted to talk to you. When you weren’t at the flat, I knew you’d be here.”
She faced out over the water, her heart hammering hard against her ribs. He seemed somewhat wary, but at least not openly hostile like the previous evening. She’d wait for him to say his piece and then attempt to make amends.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said at last, “and I believe I owe you a long-overdue apology.”
“What for exactly?” she asked cautiously.
“To start with, that terrible marriage proposal back in Toronto. That was no way to go about asking you to marry me.” A nervous energy surrounded him. He plucked a stone from the grass and tossed it into the river.
Unconcerned, the ducks floated past them on the rippling waters.
Emma drew in a shaky breath. “It did come rather out of the blue.”
“Seems you’re not the only one given to impulsive actions.” He gave a rueful smile. “I had no right to expect you to drop everything to marry me. Since that day, I’ve let my pride override all common sense and turned our relationship into a competition, which is the opposite of what it should be.”
Jonathan reached for her hand, and her heart jumped in her chest. With the warmth of his fingers engulfing hers, she couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. She turned to look at him, and her insides relaxed for the first time in days. Because in the depths of those chocolate-brown eyes, she found her old Jonathan. Her best friend. The one she could always rely on.
“I need to start at the beginning,” he said. “You see, I’ve known for a long time that my feelings for you were more than friendship, but I was afraid to say anything.” He shrugged. “Then you started seeing Danny.”
Her breath caught. He’d loved her even then? Her mind went back to the day she’d agreed to marry Danny, recalling how Jonathan hadn’t seemed happy when he heard the news. She’d thought it was due to the timing with the men leaving for war. In reality, he must have been dying inside. Her throat constricted. “You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to hurt us.”
“You were both too important to me to risk losing either one of you.” Jonathan’s thumb caressed her palm in mesmerizing circles. “Then I planned to tell you when I got home from the war, but you were involved with Terrence, and again, the timing wasn’t right. You had enough to deal with without me creating more problems.”
“Oh, Jonathan.” What could she say? She’d had no idea he’d been in love with her for so long.
“When you said you were going to Canada, I couldn’t let you go by yourself. Part of me hoped that during our shared adventure”—one brow quirked up—“you’d fall madly in love with me.”
She covered her mouth with her free hand. How could she not have seen the clues? The fact that he’d insisted on coming with her, then stayed in the room above the garage so he could be near her, and then done everything possible to help her get close to her father. She recalled the excitement on his face when they’d gone out for dinner. The romantic dance. The kiss on the swing. She bit her lip. How could she have been so insensitive to his feelings? It had been all new for her, but it was a culmination of years of yearning for him.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t more considerate.” She stared down at their joined hands. “That I took you for granted.”
He squeezed her fingers. “You had no idea what I was feeling until I blurted everything out in that rash proposal. Reggie was quite annoyed with me for that, by the way.”
Emma gave him a watery smile. “Did I ever tell you how much I adore Reggie?”
“Not too much, I hope.”
She laughed and shook her head.
A soft breeze stirred around them, blowing some hair across her face. He reached over and gently brushed the strands away. “What I’m trying to say in a horribly roundabout fashion is that I love you, Emma. Plain and simple. And I won’t rescind that love if your feelings don’t match mine.” He gazed into her eyes and drew in a long breath. “No matter what happens, I know now my love for you will never e
nd.”
Her heart beat too hard in her chest. She blinked furiously to hold her tears at bay. After everything she’d done, all the pain she’d caused him, he still loved her. It was more than she deserved. More than she’d dared hope for. But now she had to make him believe she felt the same.
“I love you too, Jonathan. It took me a while to recognize that my feelings were changing—to understand why I was suddenly nervous around you, and why I knew the moment you came into the kitchen every morning, and how my day didn’t seem complete until I’d shared everything with you.” She shook her head. “I pushed my feelings aside, too concerned about winning my father’s affection when I should have been paying attention to you. Can you ever forgive me?”
He moved one hand up to caress her cheek. “Already done.”
There were no words for the joy that entered her heart. She placed her hand over his and looked deeply into his eyes. There, she found the look of adoration she’d always craved.
It had been there all along. She’d just been too blind to see it.
He lowered his head toward her, and then very slowly, his lips met hers.
Her soul sighed on a wave of pure love. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. He tasted of acceptance and hope . . . and home.
A groan rumbled through his chest. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
“I think I do.” She pulled back to look at him. “For the first time since I left Canada, I feel like I can finally breathe again. When I thought you hated me, I couldn’t bear it.” A tear slipped down her cheek.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I never hated you, Em. Not even for a second. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” With his thumb, he wiped the tears from her face. Then he tenderly kissed her again.
When they finally drew apart, he gave her a serious look. “Are you certain you really want this dress shop? Because if not, we can figure out another solution.”
The Highest of Hopes Page 32