Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania

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Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania Page 14

by Melanie Dobson


  She closed her eyes, worshipping their Savior as she felt the warmth of His love wash over her along with the sacrifice of His death and miracle of His resurrection. She was still praying, still worshipping, when Lily elbowed her.

  “What?” she whispered.

  Lily didn’t speak. Instead she pointed to their left, and Susanna followed the trail of her finger to two men who’d joined them in the rear. Her heart leaped within her.

  Christian had come home.

  Elder Graff began to pray, and Susanna squeezed her eyes shut before he saw her, trying to steady the rapid breaths that rushed out of her mouth. Her heart rejoiced at the safe return of her husband, and she wanted to stand up and run to him, to tell him how much she had missed him, but she sat silently among the others, knowing he was there but pretending she hadn’t seen him.

  The elder’s prayer ended quickly, and then he waved Christian and Samuel toward him. Elder Graff spoke to Christian, and then she watched as Christian’s gaze roamed over the crowd of women. She didn’t look away this time, didn’t cower at his search, and when he found her, she smiled at him for the briefest moment.

  “Happy birthday,” he mouthed.

  As the flame from the lantern flickered in Susanna’s hands, a fire sparked inside her and roared through her skin.

  “Welcome home,” she whispered back.

  He smiled at her before she looked away.

  She didn’t dare look back, not when her eyes would betray all the emotions that blazed inside her. She couldn’t let him know, not until the same feelings raged through him as well.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christian followed the slender figure of his wife as she walked down the hill with the other sisters. Her head was bowed, but before she left the cemetery, she glanced back at him one last time with her gentle smile. And in both her smile and her words, she welcomed him home.

  He didn’t move from his place among the brothers as he watched Susanna—not Catharine—leave the service. He’d worried that someone would tell her about him and Catharine, but perhaps she had yet to know the truth.

  Last night he and Samuel had spent part of the night in a tent, but he’d risen hours ago, wanting to return to Nazareth for Susanna’s birthday. In the final hours of hiking, he was propelled forward not by the possibility of seeing Catharine, but by seeing Susanna. He wanted to see her again, to remember what she looked like. He wanted to talk with her and thank her for letting him go to the Indians. Most of all, he wanted to tell her what had happened with Chief Langoma and his clan.

  Then when they were finished celebrating, he would tell her about Catharine.

  His own joy dimmed at the thought of telling her, at her disappointment, but he had to confront his own sin, expose his darkest secret with her, and ask for her mercy. One day, perhaps, God would give her the strength to forgive him and maybe even love him.

  Brother Edward directed the married men back toward the village, and Christian hurried around his fellow brothers so he could speak with the laborer.

  “I want to see Susanna,” he whispered to the man. “Today.”

  Edward shook his head. “I can’t arrange a time with her laboress on such short notice.”

  “It’s her birthday, Edward.” His mind wandered to her face in the sunrise this morning, holding his gaze. He must see her, speak with her. “And I’ve been gone for six months.”

  “You should rest on the Sabbath.”

  “I’m not asking something improper,” Christian insisted. “I only want to visit my wife—in the kitchen or in the bedchamber, it matters not to me.”

  “You must calm yourself, Brother Christian.”

  “Calm?” The word came out like a shout, but at the moment, he didn’t care.

  He’d spent the past six months apart from this community, and during that time he’d made most of his own decisions and learned to be flexible for the sake of the Gospel. He’d walked and paddled hundreds of miles in the rain and then the snow. He’d spent three nights instead of one with Chief Langoma and his people so he could answer their questions. He’d met with Indians who had scalped men for being white, and he’d hidden from those who might scalp him even with Samuel at his side.

  And now, all he wanted to do was see the woman he’d married.

  “I brought her a gift,” he said. “It will only take minutes to give it to her.”

  “I will speak with Annabel as soon as I’m able.” Edward clapped his back. “She will be there after Sabbath, Christian.”

  Christian slowed his pace, letting the laborer walk in front of him. As they descended the hillside, his gaze wandered toward the stone house across the grass. What would Edward do if he strayed from the pack to knock on the ladies’ door? He didn’t care so much what Edward did, he supposed, but he knew Annabel would dismiss him as Edward had done.

  But at least Susanna would know he tried.

  Sunlight reflected off the windows of her dormitory, and he stopped on the steps of his house, searching for a face in the windows.

  Susanna would know he tried, but his efforts might embarrass her, humiliate her even, among the other sisters. He’d already done enough harm to his wife.

  “Go rest.” Samuel placed his hand on Christian’s shoulder. “Edward is right. She will be there tomorrow.”

  “I wanted to see her when I returned.”

  “You did see her this morning, my friend. And you will see her again very soon.”

  The fatigue from his long journey washed over Christian. Perhaps it would be better if he visited his wife after he had rested. If he could rest.

  He stepped up into the house. Tomorrow morning Edward would have to let him see Susanna, or he would find a way to visit her on his own.

  “Wake up,” someone whispered with a nudge to her side.

  Susanna turned under her heavy quilt. After being up most of the night, shaken by Christian’s presence and then disappointed that he hadn’t called for her, she finally fell asleep. It was too early—and too cold—to get up now.

  “Wake up, Susanna.”

  The voice was more insistent this time, and she opened her eyes although she could only see the shadow of Annabel’s face in the darkness. “Is something wrong?”

  “Your husband wants to see you.”

  She pushed herself up on her elbows, trying to process her words. “What time is it?”

  “A quarter till five.”

  Susanna pressed her hands against her head, pushing back her tangled hair. “Are you certain he wants to see me?”

  “Oh, I’m certain.” Annabel sniffed. “He’s been awake for over an hour now, pestering Brother Edward for a visit.”

  Susanna threw back her covers and her toes touched the icy floor. “When—” She chattered. “When does he want to see me?”

  “Right away if he could, but I told him to meet us in thirty minutes in the chamber room.”

  Susanna forgot the chill on her feet and her skin as she stood. “I must hurry.”

  Women slept on both sides of Susanna as she washed herself with cold water and brushed her hair. She pulled her petticoat on over her shift and then she laced her blue gown. She almost didn’t put on her haube—after all, Christian was her husband and not even Annabel could insist that she wear her cap into the bedchamber at this hour. But she felt too vulnerable without it, so she brushed her hair one last time and then lay the brush down on the bureau before tying the ribbons of her haube under her chin.

  She glanced down the rows of women, and all were in their beds except Lily. Lately Lily had been leaving the dormitory while the rest of them slept. She didn’t know where her friend went on these nights nor how long she was gone, but she imagined her out dancing in the cool air, spinning in the fields, when no one was watching as she worshipped God in her own way.

  Three beds down, Catharine inched herself up on her elbows. “Where are you going?” she whispered.

  “To see Christian.”

  “Oh…” Ca
tharine’s voice was sad. “Elias hasn’t called for me since we returned.”

  Susanna edged around the beds and sat down beside Catharine. “Someday soon, you and Elias will reconcile.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Catharine’s hands covered her belly, and Susanna wrapped her hands over those of her friend’s. Underneath, the baby moved. “When the littlest Schmidt arrives, it will be better.”

  “Susanna—”

  She kept her fingers over Catharine’s, alarmed at her friend’s solemn tone. “What is it?”

  “I never meant to deceive you.”

  She leaned closer to Catharine. “What are you talking about?”

  “Never mind.” Catharine shook her head, pushing her hand away. “Go—before Annabel changes her mind.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Susanna’s heart fluttered as she quietly followed Annabel up the stairs and down the hall to the bedchamber. Not only had her husband returned, but he wanted to see her. Perhaps he had missed her like she had missed him.

  There was much to tell him—about Lily and the beautiful songs that were teaching her the language of the Delaware, about her hours in the Nursery, about the renewal of her health. There was much to tell and much to hear about his journey, stories that could probably last for hours. But more than anything, she wanted to be near him, even if it were only for an hour. She was grateful beyond words that he had come back safely to her from the wilds.

  The door to the bedchamber was already open. She paused in the doorway, and Annabel nudged her forward. Breathing deeply, she stepped into the room, and then her breath seemed to escape her.

  Instead of leaning back on the pillow with his legs stretched out on the bed like the last time they were together, Christian paced the few steps between the bed and the window. When he turned and saw her, his eyes seemed to swallow her in the lantern light. Her heart leaped at his gaze.

  They eyed each other silently, waiting for Annabel to close the door, but when she did, neither of them reached for the bolt. Christian motioned to the stool, and after Susanna sat down, he sat on the bed. Instead of leaning back, though, he arched forward, his hands together. She looked at the shadows along the wall, swaying with the firelight. The quiet engulfed them as she waited for him to speak. When he didn’t speak, she met his gaze again.

  “Thank you—” she whispered. “Thank you for coming home for my birthday.”

  He nodded. “I wanted to see you, Susanna.”

  Her heart stirred again. “You did?”

  “The past few nights,” he started, rubbing his hands together, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “Nor I you.”

  He smiled at her, and she was glad for his smile. He had changed during his months away, though she didn’t know exactly how. It didn’t matter, she supposed, as long as he wanted to be with her.

  “I brought you something.” He reached under the pillow and took out a necklace of sorts. It was shiny with color.

  She ran her fingers over the smooth beads and shells. “What is it?”

  “The Indians call it wampum.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said as she clutched it to her chest. “Please tell me about the Indians.”

  He inched closer to where she sat. “What do you want to know?”

  She strung the necklace over her head, fingering the beads. “Catharine said you and Samuel spent most of your time traveling to visit clans who never heard the story of Christ before.”

  “The Indians love stories, but most of them wanted to be entertained more than they wanted to hear the truth.” His lips turned up in another smile. “There was one clan though, not far from Gnadenhutten. The chief decided to follow Christ, and when he did, his entire tribe followed his lead.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said with a clap. “I want to go visit them.”

  He reached for her hand, and when he took it, her skin warmed with delight. “One day I will take you there.”

  “Perhaps in the summer months.”

  His smile dimmed. “There is much talk of war outside our community.”

  “You won’t be able to go visit them?”

  “I will go, but I don’t want to take you until it is safe.”

  “But Rebecca went to the Indians,” she insisted. “And Catharine.”

  “They both stayed in Gnadenhutten.”

  She couldn’t imagine saying good-bye to her husband again for six months, not knowing when or if he would return. God had planted the desire to go the Indians in her heart as well, just as He had done with Christian. She wanted to go with him like her mother had gone with her father, visiting this chief who had found Christ and sharing God’s love with all the women in his settlement and settlements who had yet to embrace the great story.

  Christian took a deep breath, releasing her hand. “There is something I must tell you.”

  She put her hand back in her lap as she studied the drawn lines of his face, the worry in them.

  The warmth from his grasp faded away. “What’s wrong?”

  “A long time ago, back in London, something happened.” In his grasp for words, her heart began to plummet. It was too much to hope that all would be well between them now that he returned.

  “What happened in London?”

  He lowered his gaze. “I met Catharine Weicht and her family.”

  The way he said Catharine’s name sent a shiver down Susanna’s spine. Catharine had never mentioned that she knew Christian before Marienborn. Was this what she trying to tell her this morning, that she’d never meant to deceive her? But what was there to deceive her about?

  Her head felt faint, and she prayed that she wouldn’t slip away again like she had done in Bethlehem. No matter what Christian had to tell her, no matter what he had done, she had to stay strong.

  When Christian looked up, he watched her expectantly, like he wanted her to say something—but she didn’t know what to say.

  “Her father was ready to join the Brethren, but his wife and daughter weren’t quite ready, so I spoke with them.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding, scolding herself silently for doubting her husband and friend. So Christian had brought them into the fold of the Brethren. That was to be commended. But she still didn’t understand the solemnity in his eyes.

  She folded her hands in her lap. Part of her longed to flee the room, yet she remained. She wanted to hear what he had to say; she knew so little about this man she had married. Yet she didn’t want his story—their story—to involve Catharine.

  “Catharine and I—we courted during this season.”

  Her breath was sharp. “Courted?”

  “During this season, her family seemed to become my family and we talked of marriage.”

  She blinked. She would not allow her husband, this man she barely knew, to see her pain at his revelation.

  She stiffened her back. “Did you make plans?”

  “Nothing was certain.”

  “But—,” she started, knowing her voice sounded as wounded as her heart felt. “Back in Marienborn, why didn’t you ask for Catharine as your wife?”

  When he hesitated, her heart seemed to stop. “You asked for her?”

  At his nod, as slight as it was, her heart crumbled within her. Her husband had wanted to marry her best friend, and somehow he’d gotten stuck with her instead.

  “What did the lot say?”

  “It refused me.”

  She stood up and walked slowly to the window.

  “So when the lot didn’t give you the woman you wanted,” she said slowly, her eyes on the dark pane, “you agreed to marry me instead.”

  In his silence, the truth was finally known. She could never compete with a woman like Catharine. Her friend’s beauty was like a garden filled with roses while Susanna was more like a wilted flower. Or a weed.

  The laboress in Marienborn was wrong—she had nothing to offer Christian Boehler.

  And he had noth
ing left to offer her.

  “You should have told me.” She stepped toward the door. “The elders, they should have told me when I agreed to marry you.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “You should have known before we married.”

  The strength drained out of her along with her tears, down her cheeks, smeared onto her sleeves. She couldn’t offer him anything right now. She reached for the latch on the door.

  “Susanna—,” he called out, but she didn’t turn back.

  She’d agreed to love this man, but he…

  How could she do that when he loved someone else?

  Christian didn’t move from the bed. Part of him wanted to chase Susanna down the hallway to tell her how sorry he was for his deception and his ineptness. He should have told her about Catharine long ago…or perhaps he shouldn’t have told her at all.

  He banged his head against the wall. He hadn’t known how she would react to his confession, but it seemed the news frightened more than angered her, sending her away from him. When she walked into the chamber, he’d seen the pleasure in her eyes. She’d wanted to be with him. He’d also seen the concern in her eyes—she had missed him while he was gone. He’d welcomed her with his words, and then he’d sent her running away.

  Samuel had been right; he couldn’t withhold the truth from her. Not if he wanted to grow a strong marriage with her to last a lifetime. They needed a foundation of truth between them, but what if the truth destroyed what little they had, like it had with Elias and Catharine, instead of building it back up?

  He raked his fingers through his hair. For someone who traveled around telling stories, he was horrible at communicating with those closest to him. Not that he expected Susanna to forgive him right away—he hadn’t even had the opportunity to ask for her forgiveness. He had wounded her, and he didn’t know how to heal the wound he’d inflicted.

 

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