by Jody Hedlund
Abe expelled a long, weary sigh. “I didn’t know until after we were already married, and then he gave me the ultimatum of returning her to the natives by spring.”
“So all along you’ve been making plans to find another home for her?”
“No,” he said quickly, his attention landing upon Violet. “I honestly haven’t given the bishop’s ultimatum much thought. Maybe at the back of my mind, I’d hoped the bishop would see how well she fit into our lives and put aside his demand. Or maybe I was hoping he’d forget all about it, and we could go on as we pleased.”
“I think it’s safe to say neither of those things happened.”
“I’m sorry, Zoe.” His shoulders drooped.
She could admit all of the bishop’s reasons for finding Violet a home here in British Columbia made perfect sense. Violet wouldn’t thrive in England. And Zoe knew she wouldn’t like living there again either.
But here . . . here they were free, free to grow unhindered, free to live as they chose. Sure, there would still be people who judged and discriminated. But she’d learned the harsh wilderness of this new land put them all on more level ground.
Abe rubbed at the back of his neck. “Maybe I can make a trip up into the canyon and search again for my friend Sque-is. If he won’t take Violet, maybe he’ll know someone who can.”
Violet had hold of one of Zoe’s buttons and was trying to put it into her mouth. Under other circumstances, Zoe would have laughed at the infant’s antics. But this time, tears stung at the back of her eyes. She bent and kissed Violet’s head again.
“I don’t think I can give her up, Abe.” Zoe’s throat was tight with unshed tears.
“I know,” he whispered hoarsely in response. “But we have to do what’s right for Violet.”
She nodded and swiped at a tear that had escaped.
Maybe she had to do what was right for Abe too. With everything the bishop had revealed about how she would hurt his opportunities in England, maybe it was time to admit their marriage had been a mistake, give him an annulment, and stop holding him back.
With the coming of spring, she could find someone to take her and Violet up the Fraser Canyon to Williamsville. Once there, she’d track down Zeke, beg him to forgive her, and ask if she could live with him.
And if Zeke wasn’t there . . . or if he refused to forgive her . . . then she’d have to figure out how to survive without him. She’d do it. She was strong enough.
The only trouble was whether she could survive leaving Abe. Because the truth was, whether she admitted it to herself or not, she didn’t want to leave him. Just the thought of walking away was torture, and she couldn’t imagine actually doing it.
But because she cared about him so much, she suspected the time was fast approaching when she’d have to do the impossible.
twenty-six
Abe straddled the ceiling joist and hammered another nail into the rafter, relishing the sunshine on his head. Since the April day had dawned without rain, he’d joined the Royal Engineer construction crew at the work site.
He’d gathered as many other men as he could find to take advantage of the clear sunny day to finish the frame on the new church that they’d started several weeks ago when Bishop Hills had been visiting.
His superior had insisted on being a part of laying the foundation, no doubt to make sure the Royal Engineers followed his more ornate architectural plans rather than Abe’s design, which better met the needs of the simple community folks.
The bishop had been adamant that his ideas were best, so Abe had conceded. He’d decided the fight for his way wasn’t worth the additional tension and had resigned himself to the fact that God could use him anywhere and in any church building.
“Look who’s coming!” shouted Mr. Hemming from below, where he was assisting as best he could. The stoop-shouldered man cocked his head in the direction of the livery down the street.
Zoe had just exited and was walking their way carrying a basket, bringing him a noon meal as she’d done on the couple of other occasions he’d helped with the church construction. No doubt she’d taken a portion of the fixings to Will first. She was thoughtful like that, and probably would have brought enough food for the whole construction crew if she’d had the means to do so.
Now that Violet was seven months old, the infant had grown too big and heavy for Zoe to comfortably hold in a sling. So Zoe had started carrying Violet in a cradleboard on her back. One of the native women in Shantytown had helped Zoe assemble the carrier and had demonstrated how to use it. Though it was heavy and at times cumbersome, Zoe never complained.
“Mrs. Merivale is a mighty fine woman,” Mr. Hemming remarked, watching Zoe’s approach through the open walls. “Never met a kinder woman. Or one as pretty.”
With the sunshine warming the day, Zoe had tossed aside the usual scarf she wore over her head, revealing her dark, glossy hair, pale skin, and lovely features—features he dreamed about every single night without fail, features he wanted to caress and kiss.
He dropped from the rafter and landed among the debris of shavings and damp sawdust. His stomach chose that moment to growl loud enough that Mr. Hemming’s brows shot up. Beneath his bushy gray beard, his lips cracked into a grin. “Guess you’re hungry. From that expression, I’m guessing you’re hungrier for your wife than food.”
“Now, Mr. Hemming, that’s not true.” But even at his denial, warmth streamed into Abe’s face, and he fumbled with his hammer in one hand and tried not to drop the nail from the other. Was his desire for Zoe that obvious to everyone?
It apparently wasn’t obvious to her. Ever since the bishop’s visit, she’d kept him at a distance. He understood that some of what the bishop had revealed had come as a surprise, especially the news that they must find a native family to take Violet. Zoe had a right to be angry and hurt that he hadn’t told her about the bishop’s decision. But she’d accepted his apology and had indicated she agreed Violet couldn’t go to England and that it was best to find the baby a home now rather than in a year when the parting would be even more difficult.
Though Zoe seemed to understand, something was different between them, something Abe couldn’t figure out. The camaraderie, the teasing, the laughter were gone. On the evenings he was home, the sweet fellowship and friendship they’d developed were no longer there.
Of course she was cordial and kind as always—like she was now by bringing him a noon meal. And yet, she had closed herself off to him and wouldn’t open back up.
He had to admit, he hadn’t tried too hard to get her to open up, had assumed a little time and persistent kindness on his part would be enough. When she’d had another one of her headaches the night after the bishop left, he’d thought by his tending her, she’d be able to see he still cared. But she’d pushed away his ministrations and turned down his offer to go to the hot spring.
“Go on out there and kiss her,” Mr. Hemming teased with a nod toward the street. “You know you want to.”
“I can’t do that.” Abe’s face burned hotter. He hadn’t realized that half the town had witnessed his kissing Zoe the day of the hockey game. But Mr. Hemming and plenty of others had seen the passionate display and now liked to jest with him every chance they got.
Abe wanted to kiss her again. He was embarrassed at how much he thought about the kisses they’d shared, about the pleasure he’d found in her embrace, and about the desire she’d shown in response. She’d enjoyed the kissing every bit as much as he had. Surely he hadn’t been wrong about that.
Even so, he was biding his time and waiting for the right moment for another kiss. And now, with the strain lingering from the bishop’s visit, he couldn’t push her into more than she was ready to give.
As she strolled nearer to the construction site, she drew the attention of more workers, who paused to watch her approach. Even though most of the young Royal Engineers respected Abe enough not to flirt with Zoe or make suggestive remarks, they couldn’t hide their interes
t in the town’s prettiest woman. And Abe couldn’t suppress his need to have Zoe to himself.
Amid good-natured teasing, he wound through the shell of the building until he stood outside on the plank sidewalk that the workers had already constructed to connect the church to the rest of town.
At his appearance, Zoe’s steps slowed. He waited for a smile to light her face or for her eyes to brighten, but she watched his approach warily.
When he stopped in front of her, she held out the basket. “I thought you might be getting hungry.”
“I am. Thank you.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, knowing if he took the basket, she’d leave and he’d lose the chance to be with her. Deep in his pocket, his fingers connected with the jade center of the ring he planned to give Zoe as a wedding band. Natives as well as miners dug up the gemstone in Lillooet, along the rivers, and in the surrounding mountains. And Abe had discovered a piece during one of his circuit rides last summer.
The vibrant green reminded him of Zoe’s eyes. And shortly after their arrival in Yale back in January, he’d asked his friend to make a wedding band using the gem. The silversmith had delivered the finished product last week before he’d left for the goldfields. Abe had been carrying it around ever since, waiting for the perfect opportunity to give it to Zoe.
Maybe he needed to figure out another way to surprise her. He could take her someplace special and unique and give her the ring then. Maybe with such a gesture, he’d be able to bridge the gulf between them.
She looked behind him to the construction area. “You’re making good progress.”
“Having so many helping hands is a blessing.” He drew in a breath of the crisp air that teased them with a warm breeze and hinted at the summer days that would soon be upon them. They were working on the roof so that during the next bout of rain, they’d have a measure of covering to allow the construction to continue.
“How long before everything is completed?”
“I’m hoping we’ll finish by the end of the month.”
Behind her in the cradleboard, Violet babbled something. Abe was tempted to step around Zoe to see the baby and perhaps earn one of her smiles. But he forced himself to remain where he was, determined not to allow himself to get closer to the child than he already was. Doing so would only make the parting all that much harder. And he needed to stay strong for Zoe’s sake to support her during the loss.
She glanced toward the bend that took the river straight north. “So many fellas have already headed into the canyon and mountains. With the warm weather, I was hoping we could leave soon too.” The brown waters rushed swiftly, flooded from the recent rains as well as the thawing snow in higher elevations. Fishermen dotted the riverbank, angling for the sturgeons that migrated into the Fraser River from the Pacific Ocean.
Abe had tried his hand at fishing for sturgeon in the spring and the salmon that were more plentiful in late summer. The fishing, like hockey, was another way he bonded with the men in the community. He only wished the bishop could see the benefits of building relationships. As a result of their trust, the men came to him when they had problems and listened when he shared God’s truth. He’d witnessed numerous souls repent of wandering away from God and place their hope in Him.
“I’d like the chance to find Zeke.” Zoe jutted her chin with a look that told him she was determined.
“If he’s up in the Williamsville area, he’s surely gotten your letter by now. Let’s wait and see if he sends you a response.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have sent him the letter. What if he doesn’t want me to find him and decides to move away before I can get to him?”
“Or just maybe he’ll be glad to see you.”
“He might still hate me for what I did.” She thrust the basket at him again.
Slowly he slid his hands from his pockets and took the offering. He peeked inside to discover bread, cheese, dried venison, and a crock of soup. “Thank you, Zoe. You’re very thoughtful.” Even as he said the words, somehow they didn’t seem adequate to express his gratitude or feelings toward her.
He had a strange urge to give her the ring right then and there and tell her he cared about her. He wanted to reassure her that whatever the future brought, they’d handle it together with God’s strength guiding them. But standing there holding the basket and watching her, his inadequacies reared up to taunt him.
Some part of him knew he needed to talk to her about the issues and about the future. But a strange fear pulsed underneath everything—the fear that perhaps she didn’t want to be with him anymore, that she’d reject him just as Lizzy had, and that maybe she’d even leave.
It was easier to stay busy and pretend that everything was fine—or at least would be fine eventually.
“Will you promise to take me up to Williamsville by the end of the month?” she asked.
Abe was sorely tempted to agree to her request, not only to make her happy but because he wanted to do his own search for his friend Sque-is. He’d already sent out word with the miners that he was looking for the native, as well as a letter to his friend explaining the situation with Violet and the need to find her a home. But so much time had elapsed since he’d last heard from Sque-is that he couldn’t count on any help. Even so, he clung to the hope his friend was alive somewhere.
As much as Abe wanted to go, he couldn’t push past the inner warning telling him of the danger, not only on the roads but for his relationship with Zoe. What would happen if she found her brother and had a happy reunion? Would she decide to stay with Zeke so she could keep Violet? The very possibility sent his heart into a downward tumble that landed with a painful thud at the bottom of his chest.
He squared his shoulders. “I’m sorry, Zoe. I cannot make any promises. Even though the Royal Engineers are working hard on the road, it’s not near completion. And with the wet conditions, I’ve been getting reports that the way up the canyon is treacherous. It’s no place for you or Violet.”
“Surely there are other women who’ve traveled to Williamsville already this spring. I wouldn’t be the first woman to make such a dangerous trip.”
His muscles tensed. “Please, Zoe. Put the trip from your mind for now.”
“For now? Or forever?”
Before he could think of how to respond, someone down the street called his name. His relief was short-lived when he realized the diminutive, olive-skinned man rushing his way was Mr. Ping, Wanda Washington’s Chinese servant.
“Pastor Abe, sir,” he called, his clogs pattering hard against the planks. “The missee is asking for you, Pastor Abe, sir. She asks that you come visit her right away and says she needs you very much.”
Zoe’s brows rose as she took in Wanda’s servant.
Abe squirmed. Was Zoe thinking of his admission over what had happened the last time he’d been in Wanda’s house? When Wanda had insisted on needing him?
Mr. Ping arrived breathless, his straw hat askew over his short cropped hair. He bowed, and when he straightened, his normally placid façade was crinkled with obvious worry. “She is very sick. I never see her so sick before.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I think missee is afraid to die, Pastor Abe, sir.”
“Surely she’s not dying?” Zoe interjected.
“I’d heard she’d taken to her bed,” Abe said. “But I didn’t realize her condition was so serious.”
Mr. Ping glanced away, but not before Abe saw the sadness in the man’s eyes that told the truth. Wanda was sick, likely with one of the diseases that afflicted prostitutes. Perhaps she’d even been sick for a while, having caught something during her days as a madam before she’d gotten married—although Abe suspected Wanda hadn’t honored her marriage vows either. And now she was succumbing to whatever had plagued her.
If she was near the point of death, Abe couldn’t ignore the opportunity to lead her to the Savior. “Very well, Mr. Ping. Tell Mrs. Washington I’ll be along shortly.”
Mr. Ping r
ushed away, his clogs clattering again. As soon as the manservant was out of earshot, Zoe turned on Abe, her eyes flashing. “How could you fall for that? Unless you really do want to be with Wanda after all.”
Quick denial formed on his lips but then stalled at the realization that Zoe was jealous. It was there in her eyes and her tone.
The tension eased from his shoulders. Certainly she wouldn’t be upset if she didn’t care about him and want him all for herself.
Summoning courage, he set the basket down and closed the distance between them. Before he changed his mind or she could retreat, he took hold of her arms and drew her almost flush. “Zoe.” His voice came out low and husky, and he fought away his embarrassment, focusing instead on her. “You’re the only one I want to be with.”
Thankfully, she didn’t wrench away and instead peered up at him, the green of her eyes as bright as the new buds on the aspens.
“Truly.” It was the truth, and he hoped she could read it in his eyes.
“Kiss her!” came a teasing shout from the construction site.
Zoe’s eyes rounded at the same time that mortification flooded Abe.
“Just kiss her!” called another of the workers.
Within seconds, the air was filled with the men chanting at him to kiss Zoe.
“I guess I need to kiss you,” he said, trying to gauge her reaction.
Her lips quirked into the smile he loved, the one that showed her dimples. “I guess you do. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would you?”
His pulse picked up speed. “No, I wouldn’t.”
She waited, unmoving.
This wasn’t the romantic surprise or setting he’d wanted for their next kiss, but he couldn’t turn down an opportunity to kiss her any more than he could resist breathing. Drawing her imperceptibly closer, he bent and touched her lips. With the construction crew providing an audience, he held his urges in check, brushing a soft kiss before tilting back.