Hearts Rekindled

by Patty Smith Hall

  The low hum of coffee boiling saved her from a quick response. She turned the stove down and lifted the coffeepot. “Want some?”

  Sidestepping the question. Well, he wasn’t easily dissuaded. “Yes, please.”

  “I haven’t gotten as far as the pantry yet so I don’t know if there’s any sugar or not. You always liked a couple spoonfuls in your coffee, didn’t you?”

  “Black is fine.” The idea she still remembered how he took his coffee made his thoughts scatter into the four winds. What else did she remember about their short time together? His memories of their marriage had been all that had gotten him up in the morning those first few months after they’d parted. The need to come back to Marietta and prove he was every bit as good as any man her father had deemed worthy to court her had driven him to work harder. He’d scrimped and saved like a madman, hoping to show her all that he’d achieved for her...but his efforts were for nothing. At least, that was what Jacob Daniels had told him. Merrilee had forgotten him.

  Or had she?

  John watched Merrilee as she walked to the table, a graceful efficiency in her movements. Did it really matter now? Their marriage had ended years ago. They’d moved on, at least, she had. The only bond to remind them of what they had once shared was Claire. And while he wanted desperately to connect with his daughter, he didn’t know how long he’d be able to stay with her.

  But he could help Merrilee, bear her troubles even for a little while. Help her find her faith again. “You didn’t answer my question. Don’t you think we need to pray about the ration books?”

  The lines of her mouth tightened as she poured first one cup, then the other full of coffee. “Prayer is always good.”

  Noncommittal, but a start. He pulled out the chair next to his, and waited for her to sit down before continuing. “Remember how old Otis Zimmerman used to pray over your daddy’s fields before work started every morning?”

  She smiled softly. “Mr. Zimmerman used to say the work wouldn’t be as hard with the Lord on our side.”

  “He prayed for each one of us by name.”

  “He was a good man.”

  John nodded, wishing he could hear those words falling from her lips about him. “He’s a good example to follow.”

  She laced her fingers around her cup. “I don’t understand.”

  “Billy had a right to be worried. Even if Aurora recovers, she won’t have much of a legal foot to stand on to keep the kids if the state gets involved.” He drew in a deep breath, the scent of strong coffee filling the tight space of the kitchen. “It might take a lot of praying to keep this family together.”

  “And if God doesn’t answer your prayers?” she whispered.

  Was that it? Was Merrilee waiting for an answer God hadn’t yet sent? “Then He has a better plan for the children than me or Aurora or anyone else might have.”

  A white cloud of steam from Merrilee’s cup swirled toward the ceiling. “I don’t see how an institution could be a better plan.”

  “Me, neither,” he admitted. He could only pray it didn’t come to that. “Anyway, I was hoping you would join me.”

  “I don’t know, John. I mean, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, really I do.” She hesitated, a pained expression briefly shadowing her face. “But there’s so much to do, with taking care of this place and the children, and not to mention keeping tabs on the boardinghouse. I won’t have much time.”

  Disappointment slid through him. He’d been sure this was the way to help Merrilee, but he wouldn’t force her. She had to come to this decision on her own. He could leave the door open for later if she changed her mind. “Well, if you’d ever like to join me, you’re always welcome.”

  She gave him an aloof nod. “Could we talk about what we need to do to get ready for the state’s visit? Maybe make a list we can knock out?”

  “Sure.”

  “Let me get some paper and a pencil.” She rose and hurried across the room to her purse.

  John watched her as she dug through the contents. Well, if she was having a hard time praying at the moment, he’d have to do enough praying for the both of them, with prayers for Merrilee Daniels Davenport at the top of his list.

  * * *

  “Never thought I’d see the day you’d come back to Marietta.”

  John crouched back on his knees, his wide brim hat shielding his eyes from the midday sun as he looked over to his visitor. He scrubbed his dirty hands against the denim leg of his overalls, a smile tickling the corners of his mouth as he watched the younger man cut a path through the newly plowed rows. The white, thigh-length coat, starched shirt and plain black tie were as far removed from the tattered jeans and cotton T-shirts Beau wore in his days in the Civilian Conservation Corps as night and day, but he wore both with an ease built of confidence and age.

  “Never thought I’d see you hitched,” John replied, “but wonders never cease.”

  Beau chortled. “How have you been?”

  “I made it back home in one piece. How about you?”

  “Spent some time enjoying the German’s hospitality, but what’s that saying? What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”

  John nodded. He’d worried when he heard his nephew had been captured and sent to a German prison camp, but any concerns he’d had faded at the sight of the man standing in front of him. In fact, this Beau was in far better shape than the man John had loaded on an army bus years ago. Solid, more at peace than that boy. “Marriage seems to agree with you.”

  The corner of Beau’s mouth lifted into a familiar crooked grin. “You said God had a woman just for me, and now that I’ve found her, I have no intention of ever letting her go.”

  Sounded like something he’d have said, but he’d been as green as a crab apple back then, naive and very much in love with his wife. Little did he know she’d already abandoned their home. John planted the shovel into the mound of dirt, leaned on it and stared at the man. At least Beau seemed happy. “Did your wife come with you?”

  Beau shook his head. “She’s at work. She’s a draftsman over at the bomber plant.”

  A college girl. She’d keep Beau on his toes. “Sounds like a real peach. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” Beau shoved his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “I take it you got the letters I sent you. That’s why you’re here, right?”

  “I only got one letter.” John brushed the dirt from his hands, then pulled Claire’s folded letter from his back pocket and handed it to Beau. “This.”

  Beau glanced over it, then shook his head. “That little sneak. I knew she wanted to hear everything she could about you, but I didn’t think she would go through my stuff to get your address so she could write you herself.”

  “Did you know about Claire?”

  “Not until I showed up at Merrilee’s last spring. She’s a great kid, John. Smart, always asking questions. The most determined little person I’ve ever met. Almost as bad as Merrilee.” Beau looked up at him. “You didn’t get anything from me? Judging from the postmark here, I’d guess I sent them off right after Claire mailed this to you.”

  Beau seemed awfully concerned over a couple letters. “Does it really matter? I’m here now.”

  “It’s just...” Beau’s mouth straightened into a sharp line before relaxing. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, I’ll bet Claire loves having you here.”

  If only he could tell the child he was her father. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

  “Why?” Before John could answer, Beau held up his hand. “Don’t answer that. Merrilee, right?”

  John drew in a deep breath. “She’s afraid if Claire learns I’m her father that she won’t be able to handle it when I have to leave again.”

  “Why would you leave? You just got back.”

  He didn’
t want to drag Beau into his mess, but it didn’t look like he could avoid it. “You remember Peter Oahu?”

  “Yeah, he worked with us on the aqueducts out in California. The two of you were good friends.”

  “We were.” A pang of loss speared through John at the thought of his old friend. “Anyway, right after you shipped out, Peter and his wife, Grace, received orders to report to the W.R.A. relocation center at Manzamar.”

  “But Peter was born in the United States, wasn’t he?”

  John nodded. “Both he and Grace were, but he still had a grandmother and uncles in Japan.”

  “That’s rotten luck.” A line formed between Beau’s furrowed brows. “But what has that got to do with you?”

  John probably sounded like he was stalling, but Beau needed all the facts to understand the situation. “Peter wanted to fight in the war, but he was declared unfit because of his heritage, until last year. He shipped out with the 442nd Combat Team last April.”

  “Probably needed all the warm bodies they could get by then.” Beau grew quiet, clearly sensing that this story had an unhappy ending. “What happened?”

  John didn’t answer right away. It still hurt to say the words out loud. “He was killed in Belvedere.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, John.”

  He was, too. Peter had become almost a brother to him after Beau enlisted. The pain of his death clung to John like a death shroud. “Before he left, he asked me to take care of Grace. She was pregnant, and he wanted me to check in on her, see if she needed anything.” He hesitated. “The shock of Peter’s death sent her into labor. I barely had time to round up a doctor before the baby was born. A little boy.”

  “Peter would have been happy about another son,” Beau said with quiet respect.

  “The baby was born early, and Grace was too weak to nurse. The doctor said he needed some kind of homemade formula to stay alive, but it required canned milk, and that’s rationed.”

  “And you did what you had to do to save Peter’s son.”

  He knew Beau would understand. If only the homeland informant who’d reported him to the camp’s commanding officer had had half a heart. “I’m to be called up in front of an investigative committee to face disciplinary action. I could end up in jail.”

  Beau sighed. “What does Merrilee say about all of this?”

  John rubbed his palms down his denim-clad thighs. “She doesn’t know.”

  His friend crossed his arms over his chest in a tense stance. “You’ve got to tell her, John. She deserves to know. And anyway, she’ll understand.”

  Would she? John wasn’t so sure. And this time, it wasn’t just Merrilee he worried about. There was Claire to consider. “It’s my mess, and I’ll clean it up. Then I’ll come back here and work the old Todd farm.”

  “You bought Mr. Todd out?”

  John smiled. “Thought it would be a good place for Claire to come out on the weekends and spend time with me.”

  “And if you go to jail?”

  He didn’t want to think that far ahead. “Then I’ll give it to her. She could sell it and take the money to go to college or something.”

  Beau’s jaw tightened, then he shook his head. “I still think you should tell Merrilee. You owe it to her.”

  John’s back stiffened, a spark of irritation flaring to life. Explaining everything to Merrilee would only complicate matters. Best to keep her in the dark until he had his day in front of the investigative committee. No sense leaving her or Claire open to scorn until then. “What are you doing here, Beau?”

  The man glared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. “I convinced Dr. Adams not to report Aurora to the state, at least for right now.”

  An answer to prayer! John’s muscles loosened slightly. “I appreciate you doing that.”

  “I don’t know how long I can hold him off.”

  But at least it gave them some time. “It doesn’t matter. Just thanks for doing it.”

  “One thing, John.”

  John glanced at Beau, his expression more serious than the day he left for basic training. “What is it?”

  “You can tell Merrilee what’s going on or not. That’s your business,” he answered with a sternness John had never heard from his former nephew in all the years they’d worked together. “But don’t break my aunt’s heart again.”

  John yanked the blade of the shovel out of the ground with a quick movement. “She’s the one who filed for divorce.”

  “I know, and it doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t make sense? The woman divorced me.” Even now, the words caused an ache to form around John’s heart.

  “But I’m not sure that’s what she wanted.” Beau grimaced, as if he’d spoken too much, then shook his head. “There’ve been certain things she’s said since I’ve been home that make me think Merrilee still cares for you.”

  John scoffed. The only feeling his former wife had for him was a kind of wariness, and could he blame her? He constantly reminded her he would have to leave Marietta without giving her any reasons as to why. Was Merrilee holding him at arm’s length for their daughter’s sake or to protect her own heart?

  No, Beau was probably reading more into the situation than he should. Merrilee’s only interest in John now was as Claire’s father. The thought only made the painful grip on his heart worse. John snatched his hat off his head, plowed a hand through his unruly hair then shoved it back on. “Don’t you have better things to do than nosing around in other people’s business?”

  Dark auburn brows rose in an arch over dark eyes. “So that’s how you’re going to play this.” Beau gave a decisive nod of his head. “Fine, then you can have your job back.”

  John blinked. Had the sun gotten to Beau? “What are you talking about?”

  Beau grabbed the lapels of his coat and gave them an authoritative tug. “When you left to train Seabees, you made me promise that if I ever got back here, I would keep my eye on Merrilee. Make sure she was provided for, that she was safe.”

  John drew in a sharp breath. Yes, he remembered, but he hadn’t figured on Beau having to make good on his promise. From what Jacob Daniels had told him when the judge granted the divorce, Merrilee would soon be settled with a new husband of her father’s choosing, and in no time would have a fine house just off the square full of perfectly behaved children who would do the Daniels’s legacy proud. Only she hadn’t remarried, choosing instead to raise Claire alone. “What about it?”

  “It goes without saying that I’ll watch out for them until you get everything straightened out. But you’ll be back. You wouldn’t dare let Claire think she’d been abandoned by her daddy like you were. And once you’re settled here, looking out for Merrilee and Claire should be on your shoulders again.”

  His friend knew him too well. “Why are you pushing this?”

  Beau shifted his gaze over John’s shoulder as if looking for the answer in the plowed fields. “I remember how torn up you were in those days after the divorce. I was angry Merrilee had hurt you like that.” His gaze met John’s. “But after I came back, after I spent some time with Merrilee, I knew she’d been hurt as much as you had. And when Edie and I found those letters at Dad’s place, I knew he’d played a part in busting up the two of you.”

  “What are these letters you keep talking about?”

  “They were from Merrilee to you. Dad somehow incepted them before they made it to the post office.”

  John nodded. He’d had his suspicions about James trying to separate him and Merrilee—the man always did his daddy’s bidding. But he’d never had anything concrete against the man that he could take back to Merrilee. Not that she’d have believed him. She loved her brother and only believed the best about him.

  Even at her husband’s expense.

  W
hat did it matter now? “A few letters aren’t going to make much of a difference, Beau.”

  “I’m not talking about one or two.” The cockeyed smile the younger man gave him struck him as odd considering the conversation. “The woman sent you dozens of letters.”

  Dozens? It had to be a mistake. Surely one letter would have gotten through to him. “How many?”

  “I lost count. It took me a week to find a box big enough to send them in.”

  His heart flip-flopped in his chest. If only he’d gotten just one! He could have lived off her words, held out hope that she’d be waiting for him once he’d saved up enough money, ready to build a home with him, raise a family. Jacob and his son had robbed them of that chance, all because of Jacob’s ideas about his daughter’s future. A husband with a good family name who would be a credit to the Daniels family, even if it meant a lifetime without love.

  But Merrilee had refused to settle for anything less than love. How many times in their short courtship and marriage had she mentioned her happiness in finding him? Of discovering that death-till-you-part kind of love that would last all their days? He’d held those moments sacred.

  How could he begin to hope for a future with Merrilee and Claire when a possible prison sentence hung over his head like a guillotine? Being so close to Merrilee, sharing her life for just this small amount of time, sparked emotions he had no business feeling now.

  “Will you read the letters if they ever are delivered?”

  No, what’s done is done, John thought.

  Only he found that even now, he wanted to know what she’d written, if there had been any hints at what was about to take place. If Merrilee had explained why she wanted the divorce, if she’d let him know that she was unhappy. John shook his head. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

  Beau’s face relaxed into a smile. “Good, at least you’re keeping an open mind about it. And if the box is returned to me, I can bring it out Sunday morning when Edie and I come to sit with Ms. Aurora while you and Merrilee take the kids to church in our car.”