A Different Kind of Heaven

by Tammy Shuttlesworth

  Levi took a step toward her, his arms stretched out in front of him menacingly. Her breath rasped in the back of her throat. A thousand different images flashed through her mind. She saw herself fleeing without facing the threat, turning tail and running as fast as she could. How many times in the last few years had she allowed the relationship between them to progress against her will? And where had that passiveness gotten her?

  Callie kept a wary eye on every movement Levi made while she considered what to do next. She had to make him see what he was doing, not just because she was furious with him for acting so foolishly, but because she needed to make sure she could stand up to him and survive. For all she knew, in the past she may have been as timid as a field mouse hiding from a night owl in search of its supper.

  Callie decided at that moment that no man was going to tell her what she would or would not do. For if he did, she would lose the new self she had worked on becoming since the flood swept away her past.

  She ground her teeth together and glared at him. She would not allow Levi to make her feel insignificant.

  “Did you hear what I said?” she prodded.

  Levi didn’t answer right away. Instead, he straightened and looked as if he were considering how they had come to be standing here so at odds with each other. Confusion glittered in his eyes briefly, then was replaced by something Callie could not define.

  “I am not a trinket to play with,” she repeated, more for her benefit than his. The words were a small comfort, coming as they did in such a meek tone.

  She cleared her throat. Birds quarreled in the distance, forming an apt backdrop to what was going on here. The sun peeked through the heavy tree cover, warming her skin. The damp earth around the spring emitted a rank odor that wafted around her.

  “I heard.” His voice had changed. Gone was the malice she had heard earlier. Now there was gentleness and remorse. She could almost believe he was the old Levi she had known not long ago.

  The Bible spoke of people doing strange things because evil had inhabited their bodies. Was it possible Levi’s actions were directed by demons? No, she would not believe that. Levi alone was accountable for his behavior. And because he seemed so skittish, she must remain polite and courteous. Not to mention determined to find a way out of this without damaging her virtue, which she suddenly felt was what he intended.

  “I will not mention this to anyone,” she offered, her pulse pounding in her ears. There was no going back now.

  Levi didn’t answer for a moment. He took advantage of her discomfort to cross one ankle over the other and dig the toe of one boot into the ground. He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. His expression clouded and he pounded a clenched fist against the side of his leg.

  “I am so sorry, Callie,” he said heavily. He ran a hand through the too-long curls on the back of his neck. “I only wanted to see you. Will you forgive me?”

  She glanced up at the clouds gathering in the sky; they now covered the sun. Shadows filled the glade and Callie’s soul. She had known Levi long enough to know something was making him behave this way. But what?

  She wanted to forgive him, wanted him to be the old Levi, but she also wanted him to know he could not treat a woman, or any human, in such a way.

  It took an enormous effort for her to speak. “I will work on doing that, Levi.” Her tone hardly conveyed earnestness. She watched him, sure he would advance toward her again.

  When Levi did nothing but stare off into the trees, she blew a sharp breath between her teeth. What was he thinking? Was he planning how to retract everything he had done? She didn’t know. But she did know one thing—she was going to get away.

  Levi had crossed an invisible line in their relationship. There was no going back, no going forward, not for them. Callie glanced back only once as she pushed aside a branch to begin her trek. Despite a racing pulse, she refused to run. Running was a sign of weakness, and she was not weak. Nevertheless, she had to force her feet not to hurry.

  ❧

  Inside the Solomon cabin, surrounded by a quilt damp with perspiration and tears, Suzannah sat upright, her hands wrapped around her abdomen. Joshua took one swift look at the woman and knew she had waited too long to send for his help. Regardless of what he had said to Callie two weeks ago, he was not sure either of the twins would survive. He calculated they were at least two months early. He had learned in medical training that single births sometimes had a chance at this stage, but a double birth? Very unlikely.

  “Go get Callie.” His command was intended to occupy Abe without unduly upsetting him. He described where he had last seen her headed and sent the disconsolate man on his way.

  “Make it stop!” Suzannah wailed in an eerie repetition of two short weeks ago.

  “We have no choice.” How he wished there were some way to soften the words! He had grown up in the orphanage his parents ran, among those who had no family. His mother had always insisted that no matter what his station in life, he was to be compassionate for and understanding of those less fortunate. Yet no matter how many times he faced death or disaster, it never became easy.

  Suzannah raised pain-filled, defeated eyes to meet his. “You have to! They will not live if they come now!”

  They? Callie must have told her to expect twins again.

  “We shall see.” He patted her arm gently. “I cannot give you any more of the potion.”

  Suzannah produced a strip of rawhide that she bit into savagely during the worst of her pains. She twisted the thin piece of leather over and over. “I will do it if it will save my children,” she begged.

  He wished it were that easy—to simply administer another dose and forget the consequences. He could do it, he knew, and if something happened to her, who would be the wiser? It would be thought an accident, and Suzannah would become just another casualty of the cruel wilderness. He could leave the mission to find a new life, a new woman, a new home.

  Joshua shook his head. He was not cut from secondhand cloth. His mother had also seen to that.

  “You can have no more because I am not sure what will happen if we continue to use it,” he said. A sudden burst of remorse flowed through him. If he had stayed in Philadelphia and finished his medical training, he would have learned more about the drug’s effects. He had always thought things through before acting on them. Except this time, when finding the woman he loved had proved more important than anything else.

  And now he was trying to save two infants who would probably not survive and a woman who was the closest friend of the woman he loved, Callie. And she didn’t remember him.

  “I am willing to risk it.” Suzannah’s voice was strong despite the pain and heartache written across her pinched face.

  “I am not.” Joshua shoved his sleeves up above his elbows, conscious of the ragged scar that ran down his forearm. “There is no telling what could happen to you or the babies if we continued.”

  He moved to the fireplace where water simmered in a kettle, stirred the embers, and added a log before returning to Suzannah.

  She seemed to realize there was nothing she could do to convince him otherwise. “Get Callie,” she whimpered.

  “Abe has already gone for her.” At least he could appease her on that.

  “She will help me,” Suzannah insisted. “You stay away.”

  ❧

  Coming through a gap between homes, Callie caught sight of Abe. Her heart fell at the look on his face. She grabbed the sides of her long skirt and rushed toward the cabin, a prayer beating in her heart. Please, God, more time.

  She tore through the partially open door, heedless of the fact that she had left Abe standing outside. Her eyes quickly appraised the situation.

  As she did, she felt Joshua’s gaze rake over her. Callie gave him an accusatory stare in return, one that demanded to know why he had not worked his healing again.

  He continued to look at her through dark, brooding eyes. His lips were a slash across the beard stubbl
e on his face, and even the smattering of freckles on his nose seemed subdued. She supposed he would somehow place the blame for Suzannah’s predicament on her, just as he would also point the finger at her for Storm’s dilemma.

  Suzannah growled, a deep, agonizing sound that drew Callie to her friend’s side. She whispered encouraging words that she knew Suzannah would not hear. She had to say them in order to fill her own mind with thoughts of things other than what she could not change.

  “Now.” Joshua’s command came from behind her.

  Before she could properly settle into position, there was an infant in her hands, a girl with dusky red hair. Sophie Ruth, Callie thought, knowing the names Suzannah and Abe had picked out for the twins once they were over the shock of learning there would be two again. The birth cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck and she was a horrible blue.

  One of them. . . Joshua’s prediction came out of nowhere and slammed into Callie. This was what he had meant. That one of them would not live!

  Callie gritted her teeth, determined to show him how much he knew. She stared into the lifeless eyes of the tiny babe, willing her to take a breath. Nothing. The infant lay like a piece of driftwood against her arm. A wave of weariness engulfed her, but she was not about to give up.

  Again and again she petitioned God to allow Sophie to breathe. Time ceased to exist. She had been so determined that Suzannah and Abe would have two infants to replace the two little girls they had already lost.

  “The second one,” Joshua barked.

  She wanted to scream, “No. I am not ready.”

  A glance at Sophie Ruth lying across her forearm, her color no better, her life over before it had begun, brought a bitter taste to her mouth. But Suzannah’s shriek brought her back to the task at hand.

  I must be strong, she told herself.

  Quickly, reverently, she wrapped Sophie Ruth in a blanket before laying the infant gently on the end of the bed. It took all the determination she could muster to turn around. Joshua was watching her again. He had positioned himself near Suzannah’s head and was patting her brow with a damp cloth. His hair fell in disarray, partially covering his shaggy eyebrows. He gave Callie a tight smile, which shored up her nerves, and she turned back to await the next infant.

  Hannah Grace had none of the sickly pallor of her twin. She came out kicking, her lungs filling with air and her lusty cry breaking the tension in the room, reminding Callie that her own despair must wait. But the joy of hearing Hannah Grace did not remove the stain of Sophie Ruth’s death from her heart. She would carry that pain with her forever.

  Callie looked back and forth from Suzannah to the precious infant in Callie’s arms who nuzzled against her. Frightened at the jumble of emotions within her chest, Callie abruptly held the baby away from her.

  Joshua had coaxed Suzannah into lying back and she was reaching out with both hands, fingers fully extended, eyes full of tears, searching for her babies.

  Hot drops stung Callie’s eyes as she handed the squirming infant to her mother.

  “Hannah Grace,” Suzannah cooed, sensing this was the second child she had delivered. She snuggled the infant tightly against her breast. While the weary woman stared into the barely open eyes of her daughter, Callie brushed away tears that slipped down her cheeks.

  Joshua moved toward Callie, a handmade quilt dangling from his fingers. “There was nothing you could do,” he said.

  Callie glanced at Sophie Ruth, a still, silent bundle on the end of the bed. A fresh round of tears threatened to overtake her.

  “How can you say that?” Pain slashed her soul for the grief Suzannah would carry with her for years. Two brown patches of dirt would become three.

  “Because if it had not been for your care in the beginning, she would not have made it this far.” His voice became so low she had to strain to hear him.

  Callie wanted to believe him. She ached to believe him. But it had been Joshua that night who had spoken the enigmatic words, “One of them. . .” Why hadn’t she pursued his meaning? Knowing his thoughts, no matter how speculative, might have helped prepare her for this grief that wrenched her heart.

  She jerked away from the bed, crossed to the fireplace, and hugged herself, hoping to stem the fresh round of tears that stormed her cheeks. He must not see me cry, she said silently. She didn’t ask herself why that was important. It just was.

  From across the room, she heard Suzannah’s shaky voice ask, “The other one? Sophie Ruth or Isaac Daniel?”

  Callie bit her bottom lip until she noticed the taste of blood on her tongue. She had no words to tell Suzannah she had lost another child. She couldn’t even recall what she had said last time this had happened. Desperately she flicked her eyes heavenward, hoping the heavenly Father would assist her in her time of need.

  “Do you not know,” Joshua began, “that ‘in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father’?”

  His calm, gentle voice softened the edge of her grief as she recognized the words were from Matthew, chapter eighteen, verse ten. But she felt Suzannah’s torment as Joshua continued. In phrase after phrase he talked about the wonders of heaven, the golden streets, the freedom. “No tears fall there,” he whispered. “There will be only joy and reunion with our loved ones.”

  Callie sought solace in staring at his dusty boots. She wondered how she would ever face Suzannah and Abe again. She had failed them terribly. Joshua was now gently informing Suzannah of the truth, but someone would have to tell Abe. And the grandparents. And the rest of the mission. Who would do it? Callie? Never. She had done that once before and she would never forget it.

  Callie’s shoulders shook as she understood the burden God had given her. She would have to do it. A stranger should not be asked to do something of such significance. It was her place, her responsibility.

  She stared down absently and only realized after a few moments that a pair of boots had come into view, obstructing her view of the straw covering the floor.

  Her name came to her as a whisper. Then she felt his fingers gently nudge her chin upward so that her gaze would meet his. Bright blooms of color burst upon her cheeks, but she was unaware of that as she lost herself in the solitude of eyes bluer than an April sky after the rain.

  Silent messages passed between them, as if they were two souls who had found a way to communicate without speaking. She felt her fears subside.

  They stood like that for an eternity, each willing the other not to speak about what had just happened between them. Joshua’s fingers rested just behind her chin in a soft hollow she had not been aware of before now. Tiny ribbons of enjoyment raced through her. . .until she remembered the woman lying on the bed behind them.

  What was she doing? Her pulse raced. Her hands were damp, her insides churning. What power in the universe had led them to this? Callie pushed away the curious feeling that left her insides turned upside down. No matter how much she wanted to continue exploring the craggy features of his face, no matter what his touch had done to her, she could not forget he knew things about her that she didn’t remember. That frightened her more than anything else.

  ❧

  Joshua stood aside and gave Callie time to grieve with Suzannah. It had been reckless of him to reach out and touch her, but he had not been able to will away the desire to do so. It was becoming increasingly difficult to fight what came naturally to him: the desire to take care of the person he loved above all else. The fact that she didn’t know the depth of his feelings only made it more difficult to appear detached.

  He studied her, his gaze lingering on her fragile shoulders and the tendrils of slightly blond hair that had crept out from under her bonnet. How the Calliope he had known had changed. She was no longer a carefree young girl. She was Callie, woman of the wilderness, helper to those in pain.

  He ached to hold her against him, to feel the strength of her heartbeat. But how could he? She had no idea what they had planned years ago. And he had no right to tell her, t
o drop it in her lap like a too-hot potato. No, he had promised David he would bide his time and wait. And he would pray she would remember who he was, who she was, what they had been to each other. And no matter what, he would carry with him forever the memory of her soft brown eyes staring into his as if she remembered every vow they had ever made to each other.

  Abe’s rap at the door interrupted Joshua’s misery. Joshua admitted him, feeling useless as the rangy man bent in sorrow by his wife’s bedside.

  Joshua heard Callie explain about the loss, his admiration for her bravery growing as she did so. It seemed that only a few moments passed before she joined him at the table. Her petite oval face was flushed, her eyes fringed with crimson, clearly a result of her grief. Again Joshua wanted to touch her, to assure himself that five years of waiting was over.

  “I must thank you,” Callie said after she settled onto a chair. She used both hands to smudge away the tears she had cried as she spoke with Abe.

  “It is you who deserves the credit,” he replied. He was amazed at her ability to put aside her pain and attend to those who needed her compassion. Without thinking, he reached out and squeezed her hand, suddenly realizing that her reaction would likely be shock.

  Callie didn’t pull away. She only looked at him with huge dark eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever known, but he was sure she viewed him through eyes of friendship, not love, something he was powerless to change. After arriving at the mission, he had learned she was expected to wed Levi. Joshua didn’t care for the situation, but he would not damage what she and Levi had established together.

  As if uncomfortable with his gaze, Callie abruptly stood and went over to the hearth, where she prodded the embers of the fire. When she turned back, he was gone.