by Lisa Harris
So it was true. He was leaving and had never intended for their relationship to continue.
“If you’ll excuse me, I—” The room began to swirl around Rebecca, and her stomach clenched as she ran onto the terrace and into the night air.
six
Rebecca knew she shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t care that Luke Hutton was leaving on a whaling voyage that would take him away from Boston for the next three years. Shouldn’t care that she’d more than likely never see the handsome sailor again. And why should she? She’d known him a mere few weeks, and in all that time he’d never spoken of his interest in her or said he wanted to call on her. He had no claims on her, nor did she on him.
But he still ought to have told her. How could she dismiss the look in his eyes as he held her in his arms tonight? She’d been so sure of his intentions. Now she knew how wrong she’d been. She was nothing more than another pretty face to him. Someone who could amuse him with animated conversation and other such pleasantries before he had to run off to sea without any thoughts to the future or further commitment. He’d poured on the charm, never once caring that she’d lost her heart in the process.
Drawing back into the shadows of the garden to gain a few moments of privacy, Rebecca took in a deep breath. The sweet scent of the rosebushes did nothing more than remind her of what she’d carelessly dared to dream of having with Luke. A house with a garden, a family … How could she have been such a fool to lose her heart again?
And no doubt that was exactly how he saw her—a fool who had misinterpreted his intentions. Didn’t Luke Hutton have the choice of every girl here tonight? Their mothers were inside right now, plotting how to get him to notice their little darlings, their sights set on his substantial inheritance. What were a few years of waiting when it came to marrying into a good family with financial stability?
She, on the other hand, had no intention of waiting for months on end for someone like Luke. She wasn’t the kind of woman who would pine like a lovelorn maiden for her sweetheart’s return—that is, if he’d ever had any plans to ask her, which he obviously hadn’t.
“Rebecca?”
She leaned into the flora at the sound of Luke’s voice. She should never have run away from him. What kind of undignified behavior had she displayed? Fleeing his mother’s party and hiding in the garden were certainly not the actions of a proper lady and only showed him she cared for him. Her heart, though, wasn’t acting in a rational manner tonight. Her heart was breaking.
“Rebecca, are you there?”
Swallowing her pride, she knew facing him would be wiser in the long run. “Luke—”
Something pulled against the back of her bustle as she tried to take a step toward him.
“Before you say anything”—he stepped in front of her—“I need to apologize about what happened inside. There are some chairs on the terrace where we could sit, and I could explain—”
“I can’t—” Momentarily distracted, she struggled in the dim light to discover what her dress was caught on.
“I never meant for things to turn out this way.” He reached forward and brushed his fingers down her sleeve. “I never meant to fall in love with you.”
She jerked to face him and heard the ripping of fabric behind her. “You’re in love with me?”
Luke was proclaiming his love for her, and she was stuck in the bushes. Of all times for something ridiculous like this to happen. “I think my dress is caught on a thorn—if you could help me.”
“Of course.”
He reached around to unhook her bustle from the cluster of roses. He was so close she could smell the woodsy scent of his cologne and feel his warm breath against her neck. She tried to steady her rapid pulse. This couldn’t be happening. Just when she had decided to take a chance with her heart, she discovered he was leaving. Was it true he wasn’t the cad she’d assumed him to be and he really loved her?
“I’m afraid your dress is torn slightly.” He picked up a perfect red rose that had fallen to the ground and, after breaking off the thorns, handed it to her.
“Thank you.” With the rose in one hand, she stepped into the silvery light of the moon to inspect the garment, but a tear in her dress seemed insignificant at this point. “It’s only the bustle and shouldn’t be that noticeable.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken so openly,” he began, “but I meant what I said. I didn’t think it would happen, but you’ve captured my heart.”
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried to make sense of her jumbled emotions. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me you feel something, too?”
A woman’s shrill laugh erupted from the terrace, competing with the soft strains of a violin. Snippets of conversation floated past them. Dogs barked in the distance. Crickets chirped. Each sound gained intensity in her mind, throwing her normally organized thoughts into further confusion.
She wanted to ignore his question, but she couldn’t. “How can I let myself continue to care for you now that I know you’re leaving?”
“So you feel it, too.”
Picking up the hem of her dress, Rebecca escaped toward the terrace. Being alone in the shadows of the garden wasn’t proper. And besides, she wasn’t sure she could handle his nearness. Not when she knew how much he affected her—and what it meant to her heart to know he was leaving.
She chose a padded bench in the corner of the stone terrace and sat down. Music continued to filter out the French doors and into the night air. On any other summer evening, the verdant garden would have been a sight that took her breath away. But tonight the willows and rhododendrons and the lilacs and roses blurred before her tear-filled eyes until they disappeared, like the sweet scent of the honeysuckle that was evaporating into the night air.
Luke slid onto the bench beside her.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” she asked, breaking the awkward silence that gathered between them.
“I was wrong not to.”
“But why didn’t you?” Her heart ached with the realization of how much she’d come to care for him. “Wait—you don’t owe me an explanation. You never said or did anything to state your feelings.”
He moved toward her, allowing the glow from the gas lighting to illuminate his face. She wanted to reach out and smooth a lock of his dark hair away from his forehead. To trace the curve of his strong jawline. But those were intimate things she would never do.
“I wanted to tell you how I feel,” Luke began. “Every time I saw you at the shop or at the house, I had to stop myself from coming to you and asking you to wait for my return.”
Rebecca stared at her hands. “Why didn’t you?”
“It wouldn’t have been fair to you. I won’t be a man who leaves his family behind for years at a time. And besides that, I know how you feel about sailors.”
Catching the sadness reflected in his eyes, she raised her brow in question. “What do you mean?”
“Do you remember when I walked you back to the shop shortly after we met? You told me—”
“That I’d never live that way.” She nodded at the memory. “I could never wait year after year for the one I love to return.”
That’s why he’d left her so abruptly that day in front of the shop. He’d known she would never agree to wait for him. Tonight the words seemed harsh and insensitive. Nevertheless, they still rang true. She’d never have the courage to wait, wondering if he’d return to her or if the sea had swallowed him into its depth. No, living like that would be far too painful. It was better to put a stop to anything that might have started between them right now.
He caught her gaze. “Do you ever wonder what God’s will is for your life?”
His question surprised her. Pulling off the velvety rose petals one at a time, she pondered the issue. Hadn’t she asked God the same thing dozens of times? “It seems to be a constant question of mine lately. I want to follow His will, but more often than not I can’t seem to see cl
early what His will for my life is.”
“Then maybe you can understand how I feel.” His eyes seemed to plead with her. “I’ve spent my life trying to follow God’s will, but more often than not I find myself pursuing the plans laid out by my parents. My father was the captain of a ship, and now my mother expects me to take the same path. Money might not be an issue, but following in my father’s footsteps has always been of first importance to her.”
“What do you want?”
“To work with my hands building ships.”
Rebecca let the last petal fall to the ground. Building ships would mean he would no longer have to spend years at a time away from home. Instead of being a career officer at sea, he’d have time for a wife and a family….
“What about this upcoming voyage?”
“I’m committed to this last trip, but after that I won’t go back to sea. My mother will have to understand that I’m not my father, and what was a proper occupation for his life’s work isn’t the right choice for me.”
A couple waltzed out onto the terrace, the woman’s blue satin dress flowing in the gentle wind. They looked content and carefree as they laughed about something together. Rebecca had grown up believing God’s will for her was to marry and raise a family. If that were true, then why had God put Luke in her life only to lose him so quickly? Could it be that God’s will was bigger than she’d imagined?
“What if God’s will is simply to live completely for Him wherever we are?” She pondered the implications of her own question. “Following Him in whatever situation we find ourselves?”
“Like your work with the orphanage?”
She nodded. “Exactly. In helping to get the quilts made for the orphans, I feel as though I’m serving God with my talents, and for the first time in a long time, I feel a deep satisfaction in what I’m doing.”
Luke studied Rebecca’s face in the amber light. He heard the passion in her voice and saw the obvious joy she felt in what she was doing. It was easy for him to see why he’d fallen in love with her. The difficult part was in knowing he shouldn’t have.
“What about when God gives you more than one choice?” he asked. “But you can’t have both.” Like the woman I love and the job I’m obligated to finish.
“Two choices don’t necessarily mean one has to be wrong. But when they conflict with each other …” Her smile faded.
There were no easy answers. He could speak to Captain Taft and tell him he wasn’t going. Many a sailor had backed out at the last minute, knowing the hardships ahead of them. Life on a whaling vessel was grueling. Not only was the pay for the crew minimal; a good fourth of them would never make it home because of death or desertion. But no matter what was ahead, he always strove to be a man of his word. A man whose word could be counted as an unqualified guarantee. And Captain Taft was counting on him to be his first mate on the upcoming voyage.
He sat up straight and tried to loosen the tense muscles in his back. Surely God’s will didn’t include his losing the woman he loved merely because he’d given his word to someone else? There had to be another way. Three years would seem like an eternity, knowing he’d lost her. She’d go back to Cranton and find someone else to marry who would give her a home and a family.
The thought was sobering. Would he regret it if he never asked her if she would wait for him? Surely he had nothing to lose.
“Rebecca, I—”
“Please don’t ask me to wait for you.” She laid her gloved hand gently on his arm, and he flinched at her touch.
He’d known she couldn’t make that kind of promise, and he wouldn’t ask it of her. “Just know that if the circumstances had been different or if the timing of things would have been different—”
“I know.”
He watched as she stood to leave and caught the glisten of tears against her dark lashes. What a fool he had been. He’d never meant to hurt her. If only he’d kept silent, then maybe the pain of his leaving would have been lessened. Without knowing how he felt, surely she would have quickly forgotten him.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca.”
“So am I.”
His hands balled into tight fists at his sides. Was it really God’s will for him to lose her forever? With one last fleeting look, she hurried into the house—and out of his life.
seven
It had been only three days, and Luke already missed Rebecca. He missed her bright smile and their stimulating conversations. Missed the sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him. She’d cared for him, and in turn he’d broken her heart. If only he could make her understand that he’d never intended to hurt her. That he’d never intended to come to care for her. But he did care for her, and now he was faced with the knowledge that he’d lost her forever.
Still, he wanted to see her, even if it was only for one last time. But was it worth the pain it would inflict on both of them? He knew the wisest thing for him to do was to set sail on that whaling vessel without ever seeing her again.
His shoes clicked against the hardwood floors as he strode down the hallway of his mother’s home. The overcast sky created morning shadows that merged into the cream-colored walls, causing the darkened corridor to echo the gloom in his heart. Finding his mother writing letters in the parlor, he first glanced at the Baltimore clock that had characteristically stopped.
“What time is it, Mother?”
“Eight thirty,” she said, glancing at the jeweled watch pinned to her dress. “I’m expecting Rebecca any minute now. She’s coming with fabric samples for my bedroom. She’s done such a fine job in here.”
“I’m glad she’s helping you, but I can’t stay. I’m on my way out.”
He reached down and kissed her on the cheek, wanting to escape not only a possible confrontation with Rebecca, but the constant reminders of the parlor as well. Like an artist she’d managed to brighten the room with her sense of style and color. But he barely saw the intricate details of the room. He just saw Rebecca.
“Don’t forget to mail your letters,” he said, turning to leave. More than once he’d found a pile of his mother’s unsent letters. Attention to detail was not her forte.
“You’re avoiding her.” His mother dipped her pen into an ink bottle and signed her name in elegant pen strokes to the bottom of the letter she’d been writing.
“I’m not avoiding her. I’m just …” Just what? He shook his head, realizing that in trying to avoid her, he was trying to avoid his own guilt. Nothing he could say or do, though, could take back the events that had transpired the night of his mother’s party. “Could we please not talk about this right now?”
The narrowing of her eyes made him feel like a schoolboy who’d been chastised for stealing a handful of penny candy. “It was no way to treat a lady, you know. Leading her on with no intentions of furthering your relationship.”
“That was never my objective, Mother, and you know it.”
“Maybe not, but how do you think she views the situation?” She smoothed out the silky folds of her blue morning dress. “You visit her numerous times at the shop with an obvious hidden agenda and then bring her flowers. She couldn’t help but interpret your actions as interest in her. Then without warning she finds out you’re leaving, and in a most unscrupulous way, I might add.”
Luke let out a long sigh. Reviewing the facts did nothing to relieve his guilt. “Then what do you propose I do? I have no doubt that at this point she wants nothing more to do with me.”
“Why don’t you invite her to tomorrow’s baseball game?”
“What?” Surely his mother was losing her mind. How could she, in good conscience, even suggest he do such a thing after all that had transpired between the two of them?
“We’ll invite her aunt and uncle and make an enjoyable time of it.”
Luke leaned his palms against the top of his mother’s secretary. “And why would she agree to something like that?”
“Why wouldn’t she? If nothing else, the two of you can work things out
so that when you leave you won’t have this vast barrier between you.”
He ran his fingers across the smooth grain of the wood and shook his head. “What has come between us can’t be erased with one afternoon at a ballpark. Besides, by the time I get back from the voyage, she’ll more than likely be married with a couple of kids in tow.”
“You don’t know that. Rebecca’s a fine woman, and you’d do well to mend the situation between the two of you. She has more passion and integrity than the majority of those empty-headed girls who are always chasing after you.”
Luke squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to grasp what his mother was implying. “Is that what you think? That I can somehow make things right between us and she’ll change her mind about me? She won’t wait for me, Mother. She’s already made that quite clear.”
“Your father and I—”
“I’m not my father.” He struck his hands against the table. “Can’t you see that? You expect me to live out my life the way the two of you had planned, but—”
The front door slammed shut, and he looked up to see Rebecca walk through the doorway of the parlor. His stomach churned as he drank in her beauty. She wore her hair in its normal fashion, parted in the center and secured at the nape of her neck. Her short, curly bangs framed her face and gave it a gentle softness. He had no doubt that the image of her dark brown eyes and heart-shaped face would remain etched in his memory. The same way it haunted his dreams at night.
“The housekeeper let me in. I hope you don’t mind,” Rebecca said.
“Not at all. I’m glad you’re here.” Luke’s mother picked up a stack of lavender-scented sheets of paper and slipped them into the top drawer. “We were just speaking about you.”
“Really?” She smiled at Mrs. Hutton but avoided Luke’s gaze. Her hesitation at seeing him at home was obvious.
“We were wondering if you, along with Ben and Clara of course, would like to spend part of tomorrow with us watching the Boston Beaneaters play.”
“Oh?” Rebecca’s eyes widened at the suggestion. “You like baseball, Mrs. Hutton?”