One day, she dug scraggly dandelions from a patch growing wild and planted them carefully on the three Solomon graves. Her tears mingled with the clumps of dirt as she patted the earth into place around their roots. Occasionally she looked toward heaven for an answer.
God seemed strangely silent, and she couldn’t help but wonder if He had forsaken her much as Sarah had turned from Him.
July was half over when Brother David announced plans for a fellowship day. According to the nineteen rules of conduct each member of their society had agreed on when they established the mission, dancing and drinking spirits were not allowed. The children played games in the newly cleared pasture, and the adults spent the day feasting and moving about among the small groups that formed.
Contentment flowed among the settlers, but their happiness did not improve Callie’s outlook. Soon it would be fall, and Callie knew no more of the whereabouts of Joshua, Sarah, and Levi than she had when they left. Unaware, Joshua’s name had gradually crept to the forefront of her thoughts. When winter arrived, how would he stay warm and dry? What would he eat? And most of all, she wondered if he ever thought about her.
Callie had volunteered to watch Storm, the young Delaware who Joshua had helped to save, for a few hours, and she took him to sit under the large oak near her cabin to eat lunch.
Since recovering from the fever that a few months ago threatened his life, Storm had literally grown by leaps and bounds. He was a strong-willed, energetic child with no signs that his illness had weakened him. When he was on the move, Callie had to struggle to keep up with him. While infants continued to frighten her, she was comfortable with those who walked upright, and she enjoyed answering Storm’s curious questions.
She hastily prayed a blessing then handed Storm two slices of bread with creamy apple butter slathered on them. He ate as if he had not yet eaten that day, despite having finished his morning meal just a few hours earlier. When he was finished, he toddled off. Callie leaned back with her palms behind her on the blanket of soft green grass and watched him. Thick black hair dangled around his face as he shouted in glee at the caterpillar he had found crawling up the tree.
“Put it down,” Callie admonished gently.
Storm dropped his head until his miniature chin clipped his chest. “My bug.”
“It is God’s bug. Put it back on the tree so it can climb.”
“I climb, too.” His eyes shone.
Callie knew he was recalling the walk they had taken yesterday when she had allowed him to totter across a fallen tree. She had kept his hand firmly clasped in hers, but he had thought he had done it all by himself.
She patted her lap. “Sit here and I will tell you a story.”
Storm loved stories, for his mother insisted he learn his heritage, even if she could no longer practice what had once been essential ceremonies. Callie smoothed her skirts after she got the child settled. Her fingers traced the features of his sloped jaw, his baby-soft skin tugging at her heart. She wondered what a child of Joshua’s would look like.
Heat flamed in her cheeks. What was she doing thinking about Joshua and having children? Children brought heartbreak, if not through dying before they could live, then they might contract a fatal illness or grow up to run off as had her own sister. She would do well to put the idea of what a young version of Joshua might look like out of her mind.
“Do,” Storm ordered impatiently.
Thankful for the interruption that pulled her away from dangerous thoughts, Callie began the well-loved tale of how Rabbit got his tail. Storm listened intently, begging her to repeat the part where bits of fluff like feathers fell from the sky and startled Rabbit so much that he began to run around and around.
When she talked about the fluffy stuff falling thicker and deeper, Storm clapped his hands together, though he quieted when the fluff stopped and Rabbit looked around.
As she whispered how Rabbit slept and woke to find himself at the top of a tree, Storm relaxed against her, but she could feel him hold his breath as she talked about a hawk diving toward Rabbit.
“The hawk had huge wings, and though he was after Rabbit, those frightful wings were so big they knocked Rabbit off the branch.”
Storm hugged her, bringing a swell of emotion to her heart. By the time she finished the story with Rabbit’s ears stretching as branches tugged at them and how his front feet got shorter when he landed on them first, Storm had dozed off.
Callie gently maneuvered him off her lap and onto the blanket, absentmindedly patting his back and feeling his chest rise and fall. Giving in to the peace she was experiencing, she closed her eyes and let the unseasonably warm sun bathe her face.
“You seem to be quite the picture of contentment, Sister Callie.” The male voice startled her until she realized it was Abe, Suzannah’s husband.
She opened her eyes guiltily. “Uh, yes,” she replied, checking Storm to see if he had slipped away while she had been indulging in reverie.
Abe’s weathered face was covered with a fine sheen of dust acquired when he worked with the oxen to dig a new garden patch.
“I heard you have given up teaching the small ones in Sunday lessons,” he began. “It is good to see you have not totally given up being with children.”
Not too long after losing Sophie Ruth, Callie had begged off working with the toddlers. Did Abe know that since they had lost Sophie Ruth, she was terrified to be around helpless infants?
“I am so sorry….”
Abe held up a hand. “I did not come to get your apology. I came to ask a favor.”
“A favor?” What could she do that no one else in the mission could?
He gave her a solemn nod. “I want you to go to Suzannah.”
Callie twisted her hands together under her apron so Abe would not see. Go see Suzannah? They had once been the closest of friends, but in recent months Callie had looked for ways to avoid her. The thought of having to look Suzannah in the eye, knowing she had failed her, settled like a boulder in Callie’s stomach.
“I do not think that is … something I can do.” The words strangled her.
“I think it is.” There was a subtle plea in his tone.
“But what will I say?” She had thought that over many times without ever finding an answer. She could share, but she could not understand the depth of the other woman’s pain. After all, Callie had never had a child and never would. All she had to compare motherhood to were her feelings surrounding the loss of Sarah, something she still struggled with and found easier to ignore than to think about.
“You know her well enough that the words will come naturally. I only ask that you do not tell her you are sorry. Neither of us wants to hear that.” He cleared his throat. “And do not ask for our forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive. What happened was God’s will. We have made our peace with it, even if we do not fully understand.” His jaw tightened momentarily.
Callie knew the longer she postponed going to Suzannah, the harder it would be. Had she really thought she would never speak with Suzannah again? No, she had always understood that she would someday have to but had thought that day far off in the future. The issue was easier to deal with that way.
“So it is time for me to make my peace?” she whispered, the words catching in her throat.
“Yes, Callie. It is time. Suzannah knows the pain you are experiencing. She knows the grief you feel. By sharing, you will help to lighten your load and hers.”
Brother David once told her joy and disaster were to be shared. Joy brought smiles, while disaster refined the gold hidden deep within each person. What was the rest of that verse in First Peter? She had forgotten it.
“Perhaps I will go after I have returned Storm to his parents.” She glanced at the boy who continued to sleep.
Abe rubbed the side of his neck. “No. Please go now. I will watch him.” He looked at Storm, whose thumb had crept to the circle of his mouth, and a brief twinge of pain crossed his face.
Callie cring
ed. She felt as if she were drowning; but if it was something Abe wanted her to do, she would do it. Somehow.
“Is she in the cabin?” How Callie could even enter that cabin, she didn’t know.
“No. At the graves.” His shoulders sagged. “Did you plant the flowers?”
Callie nodded.
“I told her that, but it just seemed to go over her head. She has been spending all her time there. I do not know what to do. She is so different than she was before … the last time. She will not leave Hannah Grace with anyone. She will not do any sewing. No cooking. Nothing. It is as if she is a hollow shell.”
I feel the same way when I think about Joshua, Callie thought, but it was a thought better kept to herself.
“Perhaps she is just tired, Abe.” She had not seen Suzannah in a while, since the burial service, actually. How long ago had that been? Days? Weeks? No, four months!
“Every woman is tired for a time after giving birth, but that is not it,” Abe said. “It is something else.” He threw his hands up in the air. “I do not know how to say it. She is not herself, not the Suzannah I love. Will you go to her?”
Abe looked so sure she would refuse that Callie couldn’t turn him down. Hadn’t he had enough disappointment in his life lately?
“Of course I will.” She rose and dusted off her hands. But what will I say to her when I see her? That, too, she kept within her.
Chapter 12
Joshua muttered under his breath as the rope bindings around his wrists were cinched tighter. Raw and burning, his arms were tied behind him and felt as though they would fall off at the shoulders. If they did, it would be a relief.
Two British soldiers had taken him hostage. The one glaring at him now did so through a whiskey-induced haze. How men tolerated what spirits did to their bodies and minds Joshua would never understand.
Though their accent was heavy, he could follow what they said and he did not like the sound of it.
“The man will be proud when we drag this fine catch in,” the heavy-set one with a double chin crowed.
Joshua contemplated the use of the word “man.” Not once had they given any clue as to who “the man” was. Perhaps it was better he not know.
“Aye, he will,” agreed the lanky, bearded one that had been Joshua’s downfall. His piercing eyes glared at Joshua.
The one behind Joshua guffawed and shoved at him. “Get a move on, mate. We have miles to cover before ye rest now.”
Turning to his partner, he snorted. “And we thought we would not find anything worth bringing in once we missed that fiery young lass and her man last week.”
Ignoring the way the rope cut into his skin, Joshua focused on what they were saying. He had been close to Sarah and Levi for some time, but he was always one settlement behind, a week too late. These men who had captured him had apparently been hoping to waylay Sarah and Levi. What they probably would have done with Sarah, he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy.
Be that as it may, he would have no opportunity to catch up with the couple now. No, all he could do was pray as he had since the day the Moravians had taken Callie away with them: unceasingly.
Callie found Suzannah kneeling in front of the three little mounds of dirt that contained the children she grieved for. A light breeze gusted occasionally, tossing crinkling leaves around as if they were children’s playthings.
Normally, Callie enjoyed seeing the colors of autumn. Today she had no interest in her surroundings, not even in the shrieks of children who had just been let out for a break from school. It was simply background noise to her now.
She studied the huddled figure. Suzannah had her legs tucked under her, her hands clasped in prayer. She was back to her normal thin self, though her dress appeared to hang on her more than it ever had before. A handwoven reed basket sat off to one side. It was Hannah Grace’s sleeping place. A swift stab pierced Callie’s heart.
“Suzannah?” She muttered the name from a distance, thinking that if she was not heard, she would turn around and leave. The hope was short lived.
Suzannah jerked upright and turned her head, while wiping away crystal drops that were bursting from her eyes. She stared at Callie for a moment then slowly rose from the soft earth.
“You have come.”
It was as if the woman had been waiting for her forever. The words slashed into Callie. Her shoulders shook as she was overcome by guilt for having deserted her best friend when she most needed her.
“Suzannah, I …” There were no words. She had searched for them many months ago when Suzannah’s twins were born dead. She had done the same after Sophie Ruth, but she had not found them then either.
There was a rustle of long skirts and the crackle of dried leaves underfoot. Suzannah flung her arms around Callie’s shoulders and emitted tiny sobs, which disappeared into the woven material of Callie’s dress.
There was nothing she could do but stand and allow Suzannah her grief. Her own feelings were unsettled right now; and if she spoke, who knew what she might say. Instead, she raised a slender hand to stroke Suzannah’s hair.
“Yes, I have come,” Callie whispered, feeling even more overwhelmed by guilt than she had imagined. The tremor that passed through Suzannah’s body was matched by one of her own.
Suzannah raised her head and put on a brave face. “Do not ever leave me alone again,” the woman begged, her hands clasping Callie’s and squeezing hard.
Callie returned the pressure, her eyes as bright as her friend’s. Without speaking, they strolled to a nearby walnut tree and settled themselves upon the ground. They were not far from Hannah Grace’s basket, and Callie felt relieved that Suzannah had not insisted on bringing the sleeping baby with them.
When the significant hush around them seemed too much to bear any longer, she began bravely, “I have been a fool.”
She wanted to be honest, to rid herself of the horrible lack of good sense she had exhibited when she deserted Suzannah in her time of need.
Suzannah shook her head. “We have no fools at Schoenbrunn. You did all that you were able to do, and the rest …”
But Callie wanted to take the responsibility for her actions. “I came here to tell you …” She broke off when she realized she had been about to say she was sorry. It was the one thing Abe had warned her not to say.
“To tell me you are sorry,” Suzannah finished for her tightly. She patted Callie’s hand. “I know, and we need speak no more of it.”
Callie saw there were very few tears in Suzannah’s eyes. Enormous relief flowed through her. Without much having been said, they seemed to have breached the gulf between them. Surprisingly, the burning behind her own eyes seemed on the verge of going away for the first time in months.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
Above them, a gaggle of geese announced their impending departure to a warmer climate. The sun silhouetted the fowl as they flew on, two pairs of eyes riveted on them until they became specks in the sky. The sharp scent of burning wood drifted to them from a fire burning where the men were clearing another section of woods.
“I have often wondered what it would be like to be up there,” Suzannah mused, still looking at the sky. “To see the world as God sees it. It must be breathtaking.”
Callie glanced toward the spot in the sky where the geese had disappeared.
“You would go up there if you could?” For some reason she had never imagined Suzannah having any desire other than to be a wife and mother.
“If I knew I would return to those I love,” she confirmed. “Do you not have a dream you wish to see fulfilled more than any other?”
Yes, to see Joshua, Callie thought.
“I do want to see Sarah again, even if she chooses not to stay or to explain why she did what she did,” she admitted. No tears pressed at her eyes, and she marveled at how serene she sounded.
“I know. It is as if you have lost a part of yourself and know you will never recapture it.” Suzannah’s eyes drifted to
ward the graves, and she studied them with deep concentration. “But beyond that, is there anything else you truly wish to do or have in your future?”
“I suppose that someday when I am old and withered and gray I will wish I had found someone to wed, to share my days with, but there does not seem much hope of that.”
She closed her mouth as rapidly as if she had just swallowed a pesky gnat. Where had that come from? She had never thought about regretting she had no one beside her. Why had that answer popped out so readily?
“You do not see what is under your own nose, do you?” Suzannah chuckled. “It is so plain to the rest of the mission, and yet you …” she threw Callie a slightly amused look, “you do not see.”
“See what?” Callie demanded. What was there to see that was so obvious?
“That Joshua traveled here because he loves you!” the woman exclaimed, her eyes shining as if she had just revealed a well-known secret.
“Where did you come up with that foolhardy notion?” Callie asked with more than shock in her voice. She gave Suzannah a long sideways glance. “I think you have been sitting in the hot sun too long.”
Suzannah returned the look, unable to hide the smile flitting across her face. She said nothing, though, and Callie thought about what she had just heard. Silently repeating the words, she found they had latched onto her heart and refused to let go.
Without warning, the conversation she’d had with him after the burial flashed into her mind. He had confessed to her that he was in love with a woman who had met up with circumstances that prevented them from marrying. Was it possible the flood that had taken her memory was the circumstance he referred to? The tiniest flicker of delight shuddered in her soul.
She had naively taken his comments to mean he was searching for that woman, and she had been jealous he would travel alone through dangerous wilderness to find the woman he loved. Even though she knew he had come from the same orphanage she had grown up in, she had never thought his sudden appearance at their mission might be because it was she he was looking for.
The Memory of Love Page 14