“Of course. That’s why I’m going.”
“Besides,” added her mother, “you can always come back here afterward. You needn’t be such a stranger this time.”
Rianna nodded, thinking of the additional reason she wanted to come back home now.
She went to see Mrs. Myers, but didn’t find her at home. Her heart sank when she was told to come back at four. Just when she’d be on the lookout for Noah.
By four, she had her bag packed, supper on the stove. All that remained was to change into her traveling clothes for the steamer at six. She dashed over to Mrs. Myers, but was told the woman hadn’t yet returned. She was expected back any moment. Rianna waited for her half an hour, taking a peek out the window every few minutes in case Noah walked by. But she didn’t see him.
By the time she ran home, everything arranged with the good lady, it was five o’clock. Shading her eyes against the late-afternoon sun, she gazed toward the harbor. With a sharp pang of disappointment, she recognized Noah’s boat, moored and empty.
How had she missed him?
She had no time to dwell on it. Gathering up her skirts, she hurried up the stairs to change, mindful that it should have been her new lavender dress she would have been wearing instead of her dark serge traveling outfit.
Noah whistled all the way home. The Devon house seemed deserted when he passed by, but then he hadn’t really expected to see Rianna. He glanced up at the second-story windows, wondering if she was getting ready.
When he came through his own door, he was glad to see the kitchen empty except for Mrs. Avery.
“Hello there.”
“Where’s Melanie?” he asked.
“Well, now that she’s all better, Amelia stopped by and invited her for a ride over to my sister’s. Poor child has been getting quite restless. They’ll probably stay the night. I hope you don’t mind?”
“No, of course not.”
Mrs. Avery peered at him. “You’re looking pleased with yourself. Good catch?”
“Yes.” He laid some cod in the sink. “They’re all cleaned.”
“Oh, thank you, dear.”
He stood a moment, hesitating. “Mrs. Avery, mind if I use the kitchen after supper? I thought I’d take a bath.”
“Why, no. Go right ahead.”
He cleared his throat. “I thought I’d go on down to the Farmer’s Club this evening. They’re having a little to-do.”
“Yes, of course.” Mrs. Avery patted his arm. “You go on and have a good time. I’m glad to see you gettin’ out. Since Ria—Mrs. Bruce has come back…I mean—” She turned and busied herself at the counter as if she’d said too much. “She’s such a nice young woman. Still in her prime.”
Noah didn’t say anything, afraid that if he did, he’d wake up and find it all a dream.
As he went about heating some water and pouring it into the tin tub, he couldn’t help smiling at his fear the day before when he’d asked Rianna to the Farmer’s Club. He hadn’t felt this scared since he’d been nineteen and had asked her the first time. His smile disappeared, thinking of the look in her eyes. She, too, must have been back at the time. But the woman who’d said “yes” this time spoke with the quiet certainty of someone who knew her own mind.
Noah began whistling, thinking that perhaps this time, things would be different. After scrubbing and soaping till he shone, he rubbed himself dry. Thankfully he’d just gotten his hair cut before the camp meeting, but now he trimmed his beard and nails. He paused a moment to look at his hands. He hadn’t continued Rianna’s treatment, so they looked about the same. But they had sure felt good that day after her ministrations. He thought that was due as much to the feel of her fingers massaging his as any ointment.
He dressed in his best broadcloth suit, which he hadn’t worn since the beach picnic. He combed his damp hair, tidied up the kitchen then went out into the garden to pick a few flowers for a posy, laughing at himself as he did so. He hadn’t done anything even remotely resembling courting since he was nineteen.
After Rianna’s decisive rejection, he’d made up his mind he was through with courting. Then he’d met Charlotte, a girl as different from Rianna as night from day. He’d proposed after a couple of months, and put the whole procedure of courting firmly behind him, relieved he’d never have to face it again.
Now he was thirty-one, and he felt more awkward than that nineteen-year-old boy. A lot more was at risk. But he couldn’t contain the hope that swelled in him when he thought of the woman who’d accepted his invitation the day before. The woman who’d been by his side through Melanie’s fever. The way she’d looked at him yesterday promised much, much more than he’d ever dared hope.
He bid Mrs. Avery good evening, and stood patiently while she exclaimed over him. Nothing could mar this evening for him.
He took the wagon over to the Devon house. As soon as he neared the house, he received his first inkling that things weren’t quite right. Rianna was standing with her father by the gate, as if on the lookout for him. As he descended the wagon, he noticed she was dressed in black. He’d expected to see her in her lavender dress at the least, not looking as if she were going to attend a funeral.
“Evenin’, Mr. Devon, Rianna.”
Mr. Devon nodded his head before turning to his daughter. “I’ll wait for you down there.” With those words, he began walking down the street toward the harbor. It was then Noah noticed the portmanteau he carried in one hand.
“Noah.” Rianna turned to him as soon as her father was out of earshot. “Something’s happened. I wanted to see you as soon as you got in from fishing, but there’s been so much going on—”
He could feel his heart begin to thud against his chest, but he kept his face and voice emotionless. “Slow down. What’s happened?”
She took a deep breath. “I have to go back to Mr. Whitestone this evening.” At his frown, she added, “Mr. Whitestone, my patient. You remember my telling you?”
At his nod, she continued. “I received a telegram today that he’s very ill. They say…” She paused, swallowing. “That the end is near.” Her amber eyes seemed to implore him. “I have to go back right away and be with him. You understand, don’t you?”
He nodded, the gesture automatic, as he was still unable to comprehend fully what she was saying. All that seemed to register was that she was going away and not attending the dance with him.
“Oh, I knew you would!” She grabbed one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. It was then she saw the posy, which he’d forgotten he still clutched. Before he could hide it from view, she grasped it. “Is this for me?” She brought them up to her nostrils. “Oh, Noah, how sweet of you. Thank you.” With another squeeze to his hand, she affixed the posy to her buttonhole. “I’m so sorry about the dance tonight. I really wanted to go.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Will you tell Melanie goodbye for me?” She looked genuinely distressed. “I haven’t had a moment all day to run over to Mrs. Avery’s and say goodbye.”
He shook his head. “She’s not there anyway.”
“Oh, where—”
“Off with Mrs. Johnson for a visit to her aunt’s.” His answers were abrupt, his mind on one thing only. Rianna was leaving. And now a new worry formed in his mind. What would Melanie think when she discovered her new friend had up and left without warning?
“Oh, thank you. Will you…will you tell her I’ll miss her…and that…” She hesitated then plunged on, “That I’ll write to her? If that’s all right with you?”
His eyebrows drew together. She’d write to his daughter? He’d believe that when he saw it. Before he had a chance to express his doubts, her father called her. “Come on, dear, or you’ll miss your boat.”
Rianna gave Noah one more look, as if pleading with him. “I have to go. Would you…would you walk with me down to the landing?”
Again, a mechanical nod. He followed her out the yard, feeling like a tin soldier, obeying commands. The three of t
hem made their way down past the wharf to the steamboat landing. A few other people already stood congregated. Moments later, someone spotted the ship entering the harbor, churning its way toward them.
Rianna felt awful, torn at having to leave Wood’s Harbor just when she’d begun to hope for a future there. She stole a peek at Noah’s stern profile.
Most of all, she ached at the thought of leaving the man who’d begun to mean so much to her again. There remained so many things to say to him. And she felt awful about not having a chance to bid young Melanie goodbye. Would the girl understand? How would Noah explain it to her? He hadn’t answered her when she’d asked if it was all right to correspond with Melanie, but he looked so forbidding she didn’t broach the subject again.
As she studied his face, his eyes fixed on the approaching steamer, she wished she could leave him something—but what?
She could read nothing from his countenance. It was as unyielding as the slate rocks edging the harbor. She didn’t dare offer him empty reassurances. The truth was, she couldn’t promise him anything. Her life was not her own. She’d guided her life for so many years on which needy patient the Lord would lead her to next that she hadn’t dared think that perhaps now He would guide her to a home and family of her own.
Oh, but why did Noah look so devoid of emotion? He didn’t even look at her, just stared out to sea. If she couldn’t make him any promises, what could she give him? The answer popped into her head: her Bible.
No!
She normally carried an extra New Testament in her reticule, for the purpose of giving away. But she hadn’t carried one since her return to Wood’s Harbor. All she had was her own dog-eared, marked-up Bible, which the nurse had given her when Rianna had sat at Ralph’s bedside, and which she’d carried ever since.
It was like a part of herself. But the thought persisted, even as they lowered the gangplank and the few passengers disembarked.
Her father touched her elbow. “Come on, sweetheart, if you want to get a good place. It’s quite a ride to Bangor.”
She’d have to change steamers there for the overnight one to Boston. She nodded, but still didn’t move. It was as if something held her to the ground until she complied with the urgings in her heart. It was always so when the Lord was telling her to do something.
No, Lord, not my Bible. I’ll write Mother as soon as I arrive and tell her to buy Noah a brand-new one.
Only stillness greeted her silent plea. A stillness that held no peace.
Already the few people waiting with her began to board.
“Well, Rianna, I guess this is it.” Her father turned to her, and she embraced him. “You’ll let us know as soon as you arrive? We’ll be praying for you and Mr. Whitestone.”
She nodded, but couldn’t speak. Then he released her and she knew it was now or never. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to go up that gangplank. “Mrs. Myers says she’ll come in every day,” she told her father. “I’ve told her I’d send her her wages.”
“Don’t you worry about that. We’ll settle up here.”
“No, Papa. I want to. Please.”
He nodded.
“You’d best get aboard.”
She turned to Noah, wanting to touch him, but suddenly afraid, feeling bereft at the moment of both his support and the Lord’s.
She reached into her reticule and extracted the worn black book. Quickly she thumbed through it, taking out her own markers and placing them where she wanted Noah to read.
“Rianna,” said her father.
“I’m coming.” She still had no inkling of what was going through Noah’s mind, but she now felt she had the Lord’s support. For by Thee I have run through a troop; and by my God have I leaped over a wall.
“Here, Noah, I want you to have this.” She was obliged to place it in his hands, almost forcing him to take it. “I want you to take care of it for me. It’s very precious to me. Please.” She smiled but received no answering smile. “Please read it sometime.” His hands were as cold as a granite slab. She tightened her grip. “Thank you for being such a good friend.” She looked at him warmly, but felt she wasn’t reaching him at all. On the spur of the moment, she reached up on tiptoe and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Goodbye, Noah. I’ll be praying for you. Give Melanie a kiss for me.”
Her father hurried her aboard then came back to stand beside Noah. The gangplank was raised, and the steamboat made its way back out the harbor.
Noah stood through it all, feeling nothing. He sensed Mr. Devon’s gaze on him, but he didn’t return the look. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. But all the man said was, “She’s a good woman, son.”
Noah made no reply, simply turned on his heel and walked off the landing.
Chapter Ten
Noah marched down the clamshell-crushed road, along the main street and up the hill, not slowing until he reached his rooms. The faster his pace, the stronger his rage grew. The only words going through his mind were, The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Over and over in his mind.
He’d taken away Charlotte, and now He’d taken away Rianna before anything had even had a chance to start.
When Noah finally reached his room, he noticed he was clutching the Bible Rianna had given him. He glared at it a second before flinging it across the room. It slid down the wall and landed facedown, its binding split open.
“Well, He’s not going to take from me anymore! There’s not going to be any more to take from me!” Noah surveyed the room in front of him, the rage in him swelling so greatly it would explode if he didn’t find an outlet for it soon. If he didn’t respect Mrs. Avery so much, he’d begin destroying the things before him right then and there. Before the temptation overcame him, he flung off his clothes, pulling at the tie and tearing away the stiff collar, finally leaving his one good suit in a heap on the floor. When he was back in his work clothes, he slammed out of the house, keeping up the rapid pace until he came to his own property—the house by the sea.
He fumbled with the rusted padlock, swearing at it and kicking at the door. Finally he was inside the abandoned house. What came to him in a vivid flash was the night so long ago when he’d asked Rianna to dance. The house had been redolent of the scent of Rosa rugosa, large bouquets in every corner. It had taken him a long time not to notice that scent anymore.
The parlor had been full of young people, but Rianna had stood out like a princess among them. But it had been more than her appearance. Her personality—vivacious, lively, enthusiastic—had enchanted him. And later, when they had sat together on the back porch, hearing the sound of endless waves in the dark, drinking lemonade, they had talked and talked and talked.
He who’d never been much of a talker, especially around females, had opened up as never before, confessing his hopes and dreams for the future—to save up for a boat of his own and to help his grandfather when he grew too old to sail.
And Rianna had confided her dreams to him of going away and seeing the world. She’d devoured books that had opened up a world to her and made her hungry to explore it. He should have known then how things would end.
When he’d asked her to that farmer’s dance a few weeks later and she’d turned him down, her words and expression had left no doubt in his mind that she was not interested in any kind of future with him. And it appeared that was still the case.
Shaking his head to clear it of those unwanted memories, Noah looked at the house in loathing. Suddenly, he started grabbing anything at hand and throwing it. He overturned tables, flung chairs against any furniture too heavy to budge, threw shelves of books to the floor. Spotting a crack in the plaster on a wall, he whacked a chair against it until a whole section came off, leaving the naked laths exposed. When there was nothing left to destroy, he slid to his knees on the floor, trying to hold back the choking feeling in his throat.
But it wouldn’t be restrained. Like a flood tide, the years of loneliness and bitterness surged within him
, refusing to be suppressed any longer. Finally, a sob erupted, and he couldn’t stop the tears. His shoulders shook and his chest ached with the wrenching sobs.
By the time he returned to Mrs. Avery’s, the house was dark and quiet. He’d survived the war, he’d survived Charlotte’s death and his own feelings of responsibility for it. He’d survive this.
Glad he didn’t yet have to face his daughter with her inevitable questions over Rianna’s departure, he headed to his room.
Despite physical exhaustion, he couldn’t fall asleep as he normally did as soon as his head touched the pillow. Rianna’s smiling face teased him every way he turned, through closed lids and opened. Finally, exhaustion won out, and he fell asleep.
It seemed as if he’d just shut his eyes when he was awakened suddenly. His body was so accustomed to rising at four that he expected it to be that hour, but after a few seconds of lying in the darkness he sensed it was earlier. He finally turned up the lamp and read the clock face. A full hour too early to get up. Already his eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep. As he reached to lower the lamp, his gaze fell on the Bible resting awkwardly against floor and wall. He ignored it, plunging the room once more into darkness. Though he tried to fall asleep again, it was a vain hope. He finally rose, dressed and went to the kitchen to eat his bowl of porridge.
He followed the same routine every morning except Sunday, when he got up a little later than usual and Mrs. Avery fixed him a big breakfast. He knew the routine by heart, he could do it in his sleep. He wondered if he would be doing it until the day he died.
That afternoon when he returned from fishing, Melanie was waiting for him. She ran up to him as he lifted the latch at Mrs. Avery’s gate. “I’m back, Papa! I missed you yesterday, but we picked so many blueberries.” She giggled and stuck her tongue out at him. “My tongue was all blue from eating so many. I’m going to help Mrs. Avery and Mrs. Johnson can them.”
To Be a Mother Page 20