Uncharted Promises

by Keely Brooke Keith

  After Isaac won his fifth straight round, Eva leaned over to Zeke’s table. “Leonard, Claudia, would you like to swap Solo and I places to play Bluff?”

  Claudia was mid-yawn. “I think it’s time for Leonard and I to go out to the cottage for the night.”

  Zeke groaned. “Aw, please one more hand.”

  Solo reached behind Eva and tapped Zeke’s back. “Come on, partner. It’s time for your bath.”

  The little boy didn’t protest to Eva but accepted Solo’s direction. He gathered the cards from his table mates. “This was fun!”

  Claudia waited for Leonard to slowly rise from his seat. “Yes, it was.”

  While they hobbled out of the room, Isaac shuffled cards and laid them on the table. Bailey gave Sybil a sly look then stood and pushed her chair back under the table. “Yeah, I’ll go too. I have to see a guy about a horse. Or is it a horse about a guy?” She smirked at her own joke. “I never can remember. Night.”

  Eva handed the card decks to Zeke. “Put these on the shelf where Grandpa keeps them, then we’ll go up for your bath.”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  Eva looked at Solo before leaving the room. “Meet me on the porch in an hour?”

  “I’ll be there.” Solo pushed away from the table and rubbed his neck. He looked at Sybil then Isaac. “I need to… um… check on the horses.”

  Isaac stood and pointed at the tables. “We can straighten up here. Can’t we, Sybil?”

  She snapped to her feet, eager to be alone with Isaac. “Indeed.”

  Before the side door closed, Isaac slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close to him. “Finally.”

  Her breath caught between her pounding heart and her waiting lips. She didn’t have time to form a reply, nor did she have anything to say. She simply wanted to live in this moment where his mouth met hers. The desperate tug of desire hinted a promise of forever with every jagged breath.

  But these kisses would be nothing compared to a real promise and certainly nothing compared to forever. They were but a foretaste, a glimpse of what could come if their love was allowed to flourish.

  If he stayed.

  If he promised forever.

  All that she wanted but didn’t have wrestled to steal her attention from the moment. She fought it by deepening the kiss, every sensation new and undefined. No future was ever guaranteed. He could propose to her tonight and they could both die by morning. If he kept kissing her like this and her heart kept up this pace, her death would be no mystery.

  His hand left her waist and cradled the back of her neck, touching softly as if she were delicate. But the urgency in his lips knew nothing of delicacy and claimed the breath she held.

  Then all at once, he pulled away and lightly touched his forehead to hers. There was a tremble in his usually steady hands. “I should go.”

  She dared not open her eyes for fear she might wake up from a perfect dream. “Now?”

  “If I don’t, your father will never give me his blessing.” A smile came to his voice. “Believe me.”

  “I do.” She didn’t need for him to explain. Desire had overcome her every thought too. “You should go.”

  He gently kissed the crown of her head then gazed at her with as much hope as regret. “Good night, my Sybil.”

  * * *

  Isaac couldn’t have asked for a more perfect evening with Sybil, and later that night as he sat on his bunk, the sweetness of her kiss still lingered on his mouth. He’d never felt like this about anyone before. It sort of felt like a dream. It wasn’t. She was real and she was his.

  Or she would be soon, anyway.

  He’d easily win the job because of the way Eddie had slacked off from work. After Leonard made it official on the spring equinox, Isaac would propose to Sybil, whether her father was lucid enough to give his blessing or not.

  By lantern light he tinkered with his grandfather’s broken pocket watch. Anything he’d ever planned had come to naught, but his plan to make a life at Falls Creek with Sybil looked possible. Probable even. He would build a cottage for them down the road—not too far for her to walk to the inn during the winter, but far enough away to give them privacy.

  Once he built their cottage, they would have a quiet wedding ceremony after the church service one Sunday. Then, he would take her to their new home, carry her over the threshold, the whole bit.

  He set the old watch on the crate at the foot of his bunk and remembered the letter from Southpoint that the trader had given him before dinner. He’d stuffed it into his coat pocket and immediately forgotten about it. Maybe he should read it before he turned out the light. That way, if his family just wanted to berate his choices some more, it would ruin the rest of today but not tomorrow.

  The cursive writing on the envelope was definitely his sister’s hand, but Penny usually wrote much prettier. The script of the letter was even more sloppy. As he read it, he knew why.

  Penny said she was pregnant.

  Surely that lout who always met her behind the barn or the church or any sturdy bush had married her! He read on.

  No, she wasn’t married.

  The boy had left town as soon as she told him she was expecting. She hadn’t yet told their parents, but they would find out, as would the whole village. By tradition she would be put out of the church, shunned for her indiscretion. If their parents took any pity on her, they might send her away to another village before anyone in Southpoint discovered the truth.

  Her letter’s final sentence was a plea for Isaac to come home at once. She wanted him there when she told their parents. Though she hadn’t asked, she likely intended for him to take her to another village. She would probably concoct some story about her husband dying and now she needed room and board with a large family where she could serve as a nanny once her child was old enough to let her have a spare hand.

  He remembered a story in one of his school readers about an unwed mother doing that. The truth came out in that story, and it would come out for Penny too.

  After he finished her letter, his teeth ground together. He wadded the paper into the tightest ball his fingers could produce, then threw it across the bunkhouse, narrowly missing Eddie’s snoring face.

  How could she do this to herself, to their family, to him? How could she fall for such a loathsome man? And now that he’d gotten her into trouble, she expected her brother to save her?

  Eighteen measly days until the spring equinox and his competition with Eddie for the job would be over. Eighteen! It would have been an easy win after how hard he’d worked. If he left Falls Creek now, all his effort would be forgotten. The final test was supposed to be the field planting. He was almost done with his, yet Eddie was still plowing. This challenge was supposed to seal the deal for him, supposed to justify Leonard choosing him even if Frederick’s memory failed him and he insisted on Eddie.

  Isaac’s stomach burned. He sat on the edge of the mattress until his aching back convinced him to put out his lantern and lie down.

  He tried not to picture his sister scared and crying. She must feel terribly alone. She was right that their parents wouldn’t be fair in their response. Even if they were fair, they wouldn’t be kind.

  He had to help her.

  Long past midnight, he convinced himself Sybil would understand why he needed to leave Falls Creek. He could trust her with the entirety of Penny’s situation, but he couldn’t tell anyone else all the facts, even Leonard. He doubted the older man would tell anyone in hopes of the truth getting back to Southpoint and shaming Penny, but news had a way of spreading from the inn faster than Chloe could run. He would simply say there was a family emergency and he had to leave.

  Sybil would understand after all the years she’d pined for her brother to do right by their family. Isaac’s family was in a different situation but required the same devotion Sybil demanded of Revel. Once Isaac told her why he was leaving, her respect for him would only grow.

  After half a night’s sleep, he dress
ed and walked across the dewy yard to the inn’s side door. Acres of freshly turned soil beyond the pastures filled the early morning air with the earthy aroma he lived for. He would ride to Southpoint at once, make sure Penny was taken care of, and come back to Falls Creek as hastily as he could.

  The wall lamps were already burning in the kitchen. He closed the side door loud enough to give Sybil a warning that someone was coming. She insisted the attack in her room two months ago didn’t haunt her, but she still flinched if someone walked in abruptly.

  When he rounded the kitchen doorway, she smiled at him from where she stood at the sink filling a copper kettle. “Good morning.”

  He kept his coat buttoned but took off his hat. “I don’t know how good it is.”

  As she dropped gray leaf wood chips into the stove’s firebox, she raised an eyebrow at him and chuckled. “That’s an odd joke.”

  He held up Penny’s letter, still wrinkled from where he’d balled it up. “I wish I were joking.”

  Her smile vanished. “Isaac, what’s wrong?”

  After a quick check of the hallway, he crossed the kitchen, holding out the letter to her. “My sister is with child. Unwed. Not yet eighteen.”

  Sybil covered her mouth with her fingertips and glared at the wrinkly paper he held. “Poor girl.”

  “Poor nothing. It’s her own fault.”

  “Isaac, don’t be so harsh.”

  “The village will be even more harsh than that.”

  “They shouldn’t. It could happen to any woman in love.”

  She looked up at him, the passion from last night’s kisses still glowing in her gaze. In her eyes he saw all that he’d wanted when he’d kissed her. He folded the paper as calmly as his anxious hands allowed. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right. I knew you would understand why I have to go.”

  “Go?”

  “Yes, to Southpoint. I have to help her.”

  “Now?”

  “She doesn’t feel as though she has anyone else she can trust.”

  Her voice grew louder. “What about your parents?”

  “They won’t help her. If they do, they won’t be kind about it. She needs me. My family needs me.”

  “We need you here. The crops must be planted on time. We depend on those crops and Leonard is too feeble and Eddie is no use and you can’t leave.” Her chin crinkled, forcing her bottom lip to tremble. “Please, don’t leave.”

  “I have to.”

  Her tone took on a sarcastic note that didn’t suit her. “Sure you do. Fine! Leave just like everyone else had to leave.”

  “No, that’s not it.” He reached to touch her face, to sooth her quivering jaw, but she stepped back. “Please, Sybil, you must understand. I must honor my family. That’s exactly what you wanted Revel to do for years. Imagine how Penny feels right now. The man who did this to her left town. She has no one.”

  Sybil spun on her heel and flattened her palms on the countertop. “Oh, I can imagine plenty. And I’m thankful I didn’t become overwhelmed with passion for you last night and end up like your sister. I already know my brothers wouldn’t come home to help me. Lord knows they would hunt you down for their honor, but they wouldn’t come back to Falls Creek for me.”

  “I will.” He closed the distance between them and rubbed her shoulder. “I promise I will come back.”

  “I’ve heard that before too.” She shook away from his gentle grip. “Don’t promise me anything.”

  It was probably too much for her to grasp this early in the morning. He’d dealt with it all night. Once she thought it through, she would come to her senses. “I’m leaving Falls Creek after breakfast. You’re the only person I’ve trusted with Penny’s secret. I’ll tell Leonard there was a family crisis and pray he lets me come back to work, but even if he doesn’t, there’s no law stopping me from building a house down the road.”

  He nudged her to turn and look at him. He had a charming smile ready to reassure her. She kept her back to him, and it wrenched his heart with every passing second that he waited for her. Finally, he let go of her and put on his hat. “I will come back to Falls Creek, Sybil. I promise you, I will.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Before Sybil’s feet touched the chapel steps, Philip opened the windowless door. Compassion filled his eyes as he watched her trudge up the stairs. “Now, Miss Sybil, it’s too early for such a frown.” He spread a palm toward the glowing eastern sky. “God’s mercies are new every morning.”

  She couldn’t smile—hadn’t been able to since Isaac left—but did her best to make her face less morose. “Good morning, sir.”

  He closed the door behind her and followed her across the narrow chapel’s unpolished floor to the piano. His voice lost its jubilance and took on a sympathetic tone. “How long has it been now? Two weeks?”

  “Thirteen long, cold, bleak days.” The threat of crying tightened her throat. “Somehow I knew all along he would leave. It still hit me hard.” She set her hymnal on the piano’s stand and lifted the keyboard cover. Her hands felt as lethargic as an overcooked noodle. “When I was a child, I fell out of the big gray leaf tree on the northeast side of the house and landed flat on my back. It knocked the wind out of me. That was nothing compared to Isaac’s leaving.”

  Philip sat beside her on the piano bench. He’d never done that before. She waited for him to speak, to say something profound that would lift her from her doldrums or shame her out of them or whatever reverends were supposed to do, but he only sat there, gazing at her unopened hymnal with his hands folded loosely in his lap.

  They’d spent several Sunday mornings alone in the chapel preparing for services, and she’d never felt awkward around him when it was silent. Then again, he’d never sat beside her like this, giving her emotions his full attention. No one had.

  It compelled her to speak freely. “I never minded being by myself until Isaac came to Falls Creek. I rather liked it, in fact. But a few days after he arrived, I started feeling uneasy when I was alone in the kitchen early in the mornings or during the afternoons when I was the only person in the house. Before Isaac, I used to cook and bake for hours alone all day, perfectly content. Now, I just want people around me. It’s like I’m almost scared to be alone.”

  Philip steepled his fingertips and looked down at them instead of making her feel worse by watching her. He spoke with a voice so gentle it didn’t reverberate in the room like it did during his sermons but only hung in the air around them. “Miss Sybil, forgive me if I’m wrong, but a few days after Isaac arrived… wasn’t that when the young trader attacked you in your room?”

  She’d spent over two months doing her best not to think about that horrid incident. Whenever a rogue memory was triggered by a sensation or the air or a certain smell flashed through her mind, she made herself think of Isaac’s bravery that night and how he’d held her afterward. She’d determined from the day it happened to only look forward and never look back at those terrifying moments. “Yes, it was. What of it?”

  Philip shrugged a little. “I wonder if maybe your discomfort with being alone has less to do with missing Isaac’s company as it does with the panic you felt while being assaulted.”

  The good preacher was mistaken. She had believed the trader’s claim that he only grabbed her because she startled him when she came into the room. The men—including Isaac—had dealt with him, and she’d put it all behind her. She had even donated to the church all the trade goods that were left as restitution.

  However, that was when she started looking through the darkness at every shadow in the house when she rose before dawn. Each morning, relief came only when she saw the full egg basket on the counter because she knew Isaac was up and working. Even though she couldn’t see him in the barn, he was there. And then in the evenings, she wouldn’t go up to her room like she used to before bed, but would stay in the kitchen until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.

  And the best night of her life was two weeks ago when t
hey had all played cards after dinner. Not just because she was with Isaac, but because there were people around at night—people she loved and who loved her and could keep her safe. Even though she hadn’t felt like playing cards since Isaac left, that night proved having company briefly filled the deep ache of loneliness.

  The realization stunned her. Philip was right. It had all started with the attack.

  “I didn’t think of that.” She looked at him, unafraid to get caught in his knowing gaze. “I still miss Isaac very much. I’m trying not to, but I do.”

  “He told Leonard he will return as soon as he can.”

  “Everyone leaves Falls Creek with promises. They don’t come back. Neither will he. And now when I’m by myself, the darkness is even darker. I don’t want to be alone. It’s childish isn’t it?”

  “Childish? Not at all. God didn’t intend for anyone to be alone.”

  “I don’t mean alone in life—I don’t want that either—but I meant being alone in my kitchen. Being alone in my bedroom.”

  “Because of the attack.”

  “I thought if I ignored it, it would go away.”

  He folded his arms. “Some feelings cannot be ignored. It’s like having a beast rapping on the front door. If you ignore it long enough, you might think it has gone away when really it’s found an unlocked window to slip into.”

  Now she had to smile. “That sounds like something from one of the children’s stories Solo writes.”

  He returned her grin. “Yes, Zeke has read them all to me.”

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “You have a good family. Don’t hide your pain from them. For the past two weeks, I’ve heard Eva ask if anyone would like to stay and play cards after dinner. She’s doing that for you. Go into the dining hall and be with your family and the guests at the end of the day.”

  He was comforting to talk to, and right. Perhaps she not only had ignored the painful feelings buried inside but also the good things God had put in her life. It reminded her of a verse from the Psalms, so she recited it aloud. “In the multitude of my thoughts within me, Thy comforts delight my soul.”