by Gail Sattler
Once again, Anna glanced toward his car. Unlike her mama, she hadn’t been in it often, but she could understand her mama’s fascination with it. Riding in Chad’s car was fun, except for the time he’d played some horrible music. “This is fine. Let us go. I suppose I will not need my purse if we are only going for a walk at Cass Lake.”
“And a picnic supper.”
She sighed. “Ja.” Mama would have plenty of food in the fridge for her to eat when she got home. Of course the evening would not be over, because Mama would invite Chad in to eat, and he never turned down Mama’s cooking.
Like he did every time she got in his car, he held the door open for her as she slid into the seat, and then he made sure she had her seatbelt buckled, as if she were incapable of clicking it together herself. In some ways it annoyed her, but another part of her liked his concern.
While he walked around the car to get in, a piece of paper lying on the dash with a badly drawn map complete with landmarks and mileage caught her attention.
She smiled. It was a map of how to get to Cass Lake.
As soon as the car started moving, Anna picked up the map. “I could have given you directions. Anyone could have given you directions. But this looks like Brian’s bad handwriting.” A smudge of grease on the edge of the paper also gave away its origin.
“Yes. This was Brian’s idea. I trust him because I’ve never been there.”
“Cass Lake is beautiful. In the summer, there is good fishing, and in the winter, it is good skating.”
“Skating? Why didn’t anyone ask me to go skating?”
The memory of his struggles the first time he tried to walk in snowshoes flashed through her mind’s eye. “I would think it is because everyone was too afraid that you would break your leg or hurt yourself. Or maybe no one has skates in your size they could have loaned to you.”
His cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. “My feet aren’t that big.”
She’d seen his boots beside all the others when they went to Bible study meetings. When they went to someone’s home in the winter, everyone brought extra shoes or slippers and left their boots on a mat beside the door. Chad’s boots were the largest by at least two sizes. “You are tall, so it is natural that you will have large feet. But I think after helping you with the snowshoes, everyone wanted to be cautious. It does not hurt to fall on snow, but it does hurt to fall on ice. No one would like it if you were injured. I am sorry, I did not mean to hurt your feelings.”
Chad shrugged his shoulders. “It’s okay. But since I know now, I’d like to try skating. I’ve never done it before.”
“You have not? How can this be?”
“I don’t know. I guess when I grew up I spent more time in the winter in a warm living room playing video games than outside in the cold. But if I can do snowshoes, I can do skates.”
She wasn’t going to tell him that balancing on skates was harder than it looked and it would take him a while to build up the strength in his ankles, just as it had taken him a while to build up the muscles in his legs to keep up with the rest of the men on snowshoes.
Anna pointed forward, to the side of the road. “Be careful. There is a moose. It should not walk onto the road, but you must be careful.”
“I see it,” he muttered as he slowed his speed. “My camera is on the floor behind my seat. Can you reach it and get a picture of him as we go past?”
“Ja, I have taken pictures with Brian’s camera. I think I can do that.” She turned and reached behind the seat, but instead of touching a camera, she felt a large shape. She squirmed to look behind the seat. “You have your guitar down there.”
“It’s not mine. I’ve only got an electric guitar. This one is an acoustic and it’s Brian’s. He let me borrow it for the night.”
“Why have you brought a guitar?”
“I thought we might sing together. You have such a beautiful voice. I remember you singing the part of the angel at the Christmas play the first night I got here. Why don’t you sing like that in church? You’re so quiet I barely hear you on Sundays.”
Anna felt her cheeks grow warm. “If I sing loud at church, then sometimes people close to me stop their own songs of worship and watch me. That is not right or good that I would overpower them. I will not distract people who have come to worship for themselves in God’s house.”
“Now I’m really glad I brought the guitar. You can sing as loud as you want, and I’ll bet the birds and animals will stop what they’re doing and sing along with you.”
Before Chad had come to a full stop, Anna found the camera and snapped a picture of the moose. “You are a crazy person,” she muttered, wanting to reproach him, but at the same time, she did miss singing loud and clear on Sundays. After Christmas, the church had meant to start a choir, but with both Miranda and Ted gone no one had volunteered to take on the job of leadership.
He followed her directions instead of Brian’s map. She showed him where to turn and the best place to park the car. “There is the path. We can walk to the lake from here.”
After he opened the door and escorted her out, Chad stepped back. Instead of opening the trunk, he extended one arm toward the path’s entrance. “This is it? It looks like it’s only single file.”
“Ja. For much of the way there is no path except for the one leading to the area where people can swim without getting tangled in seaweeds.” It appeared Brian hadn’t told him a walk around Cass Lake meant exactly that—walking around the lake, at the shoreline, single file. “We will probably work up quite an appetite after walking around the lake, and then we can eat the picnic you have brought.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Actually, there’s more to it than that. I brought the small barbecue I used to have on my balcony.”
“You have brought a barbecue? Is that not a lot of work?”
“Not really. I thought it would be fun, barbecuing for two out here in the middle of nowhere. Nothing I brought is heavy, but it looks like it’s going to take two trips.”
“I will help carry things.”
Chad shook his head. “No. This is my treat for you, and I’m doing all the work.”
“That makes no sense. However, if there is much to carry, there is no one here except us. We can have our meal here, where the ground is level, and when we are done, we can go walk around the lake.”
At first she thought he was going to argue with her, but he only shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. I guess there’s no reason why not. It will also be harder lugging everything back to the car uphill. We’ll eat up here, but I want to check out the lake first.”
Anna looked down the hill to the lake. “That would be good. Also, the sunset is always very beautiful over the lake. We can watch it for a short time, as long as we leave with enough time to get back to the car before it is dark.”
“Sunset over the lake? Brian never told me about that.”
“That is strange. Brian has a camera and he enjoys taking photographs.”
She waited while Chad walked to the car and opened the back door. He removed the guitar from behind the seat, slung the strap over his shoulder, hung the camera around his neck, picked up a book, and turned toward her. “Lead the way.”
She led him down the path to the lake, making sure to go slow to account for the extra height of the guitar over his head, as he had to duck beneath the lower branches. Once at the shore, they stood and looked out over the calm lake. In the distance, birds chirped and ducks quacked, accompanied by the rustle of leaves in the wind. The only movement was a slight ripple of waves, and every once in a while, a fish broke the surface of the water to catch a bug.
“Brian was right. This is so peaceful.”
“Ja. Today is a busy day for everyone on the farms—that is why it is so quiet. Tomorrow, after church, many will be here fishing and swimming.”
He snickered. “I hope not in the same place.”
Anna pointed across the lake. “Everyone goes to fish over there.
Everyone says it is a secret spot. But since everyone knows about the same spot, it is not a very good secret.”
“You said everyone is busy on the farms today. I know a lot of the people who work at the factory only work a few days there and the rest of the days on their farms. But there are many who work five days a week. Are you saying on Saturday, most of them go work on the farms, too?”
“Ja. They will be helping their friends. But no one will work on Sunday.”
“I found that out the hard way. I don’t mean about working at the factory, I mean everywhere else. Even the restaurant is closed on Sunday.”
“Of course.”
“Back in Minneapolis, all retail stores and restaurants are open and in full operation on Sundays. In fact, it’s their busiest day. Many factories run 24–7. Nothing shuts down, ever, except maybe on Thanksgiving and Christmas. Of course, the hospitals and police work Thanksgiving and Christmas, too, but on reduced staff. Sundays are business as usual. I think I’m used to it here with everything shutting down every Sunday, but it took a while.”
Anna couldn’t imagine working Sundays. She turned to Chad. “When I find a job in the cities, will they expect me to work on the Sabbath?”
“It depends. Most offices, no. But if there is a crisis, yes. The Lord’s Day doesn’t mean the same thing there as it does here. Many Christian people work Sunday as a normal day because they have to or they won’t have a job. They choose to take another day as their Sabbath. But for the most part, Sunday as the Sabbath day has completely lost its meaning.”
She couldn’t imagine that. If getting a good job might mean working on the Lord’s Day, Anna had some very serious praying to do.
Chad slung the guitar off his shoulder, carefully set it on a fallen log, found a safe place to rest his camera, and opened the book to a page he had marked.
“You have brought a hymnal.”
“Yes. Ted left it for me. All the hymns are chorded for guitar in this one. He said Miranda did it for him. He left it behind for me because she has a full selection of chorded hymnbooks at home, including this one.” He played the introduction for “Blessed Assurance, Jesus Is Mine,” one of her favorite hymns, then stopped and looked up at her. “I don’t have any of these memorized, which is why I brought it. Besides, the hymns have a lot of words. Would you like to sing with me?”
The only times she’d sung outside, it had always been with a group and they’d gone caroling, of course without an instrument. It had only been a few years ago that they had started using a guitar in church, when Ted returned from college. Even though it felt less reverent singing with a guitar than with a piano, she enjoyed the sound. “I would like that, but only if you sing with me. I do not wish to sing alone.”
“That was my plan.”
He played the last line again as the introduction, and they began to sing. When they got to the chorus, Chad changed from singing unison to a harmony line that was so beautiful she nearly lost her concentration and stopped. At the last verse they sang the chorus a little slower, which seemed to emphasize the words, bringing the meaning closer to her heart. As Chad played a few more chords to close the hymn, she watched his hands, then looked up to his face while he continued to read the chords from the book. Her eyes started to burn and she struggled not to cry, which made no sense, because she had sung this same hymn more times than she could count, and this had never happened to her before. As he played the last chord, he closed his eyes, sighed, and smiled. While she watched, he raised his head, opened his eyes, and, still smiling, turned to her.
The second they made eye contact, his eyes widened and his smile dropped. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”
Anna nodded, then shook her head. She wanted to say she was fine, but she was too afraid. If she tried to speak, her voice would crack, and then she really would start to cry and there would be no stopping it.
Completely serious now, Chad quickly shrugged the guitar strap off his shoulder, gently set the guitar down, and reached toward her, resting his hands on her shoulders. Very slowly, he lifted one hand and, using his thumb, brushed one tear off her cheek. “I know. That was really something, wasn’t it?”
“Ja,” she choked out, barely able to speak, knowing she couldn’t say more.
His eyes softened, and his hand returned to her shoulder. Very gently, he pulled her toward him while leaning forward to meet her in the middle. As he shuffled his bottom closer to her, his hands slid to her back. Because it felt so good, she leaned into his chest and tucked her head beneath his chin. His hands slid further down her back, his fingers splayed, and his grip tightened, pressing her firmly into his chest; but not so firmly that if she tried to push herself away, he wouldn’t let her. Slowly, he rested his cheek against her hair. She felt the expansion of his chest as he sighed, and then his embrace tightened as he released his breath.
Anna closed her eyes and leaned into him, enjoying his warmth and the steady beat of his heart. William had hugged her a few times, but it didn’t feel like this.
Not able to help herself, Anna slowly ran her hands to the center of his back and gave him a gentle squeeze. For a brief second, he stiffened slightly, and then his heart started beating a little faster. He gave her a tiny squeeze, then released her, forcing her to lower her arms and sit straight.
The second they were no longer touching, Chad reached for the guitar, picked it up, and stood. “We should get back to the car. I wanted to cook supper, and if we’re going to be finished before the sun sets, I have to start now.”
She looked at her watch. The sun wouldn’t be setting for hours, but then she had no idea of his plans. While part of her wanted to sing another hymn with him, part of her needed to move. “Ja, we probably should start to make our supper,” she said as she pushed herself up off the log.
By the time she was standing, he already had the guitar slung on his back, the camera hanging from his neck, and the hymnal tucked under his arm.
“When I said I was cooking, I meant it. All you’re going to do is watch and talk to me as I cook, then eat what I made.”
Anna looked at him, his face stern, allowing no room for argument. All she could do was nod, then follow him back to the car.
20
As he ducked beneath the low-hanging branches, mentally Chad kicked himself around the block and halfway down the next one as he slogged through the path back up to his car.
He didn’t know how something that felt so right could at the same time feel so wrong.
Anna felt so perfect in his arms. He’d almost nestled in a little more to kiss the top of her head when she gave him that little squeeze that nearly made him come undone.
He couldn’t believe it. Just that small, innocent action sent his brain into a tailspin. It had been all he could do not to stop everything he was doing and kiss her senseless.
Except the senseless one was him. He knew a little about her history, but more about the history of the society in which she lived. Because of the lifestyle here, he wasn’t even sure if she’d ever kissed a man before, but he doubted it. If she had, it would have been only a kiss of friendship or fondness, not a kiss of heart-pounding passion.
He’d done so much more than that. He was going to be a father. She was a complete innocent, and he . . . wasn’t. He had no business touching her, and he especially had no business kissing her, without telling her the whole story of his sordid past. She really knew nothing of the man she’d just allowed to hold her.
From the depths of his soul he wanted to tell her everything, but now when he had the perfect opportunity all set up, all his plans fell apart like his first car. He hadn’t even kissed her, and his brain was completely rattled. He couldn’t blame the pounding of his heart on the walk up the hill. Just the thought of Anna holding him and responding to his touch made it beat even faster. He’d been fooling himself when he planned this evening, telling himself that he would be satisfied with a few small kisses. Touching her, holding her, he realized what
he really wanted was to kiss her with all the passion in his soul and tell her how much he loved her—and he wanted to hear her say the same.
And then he wanted to ask if she’d marry him.
But he wasn’t going to do that. She had no idea of all the baggage he would bring with him into a relationship, including what was going to be an ugly custody battle. In her eyes, he was only her boss—a poor hapless city boy still reeling from being recently jilted, having a hard time adjusting to laid-back, rural life. All he’d meant to do today was start to show her a small sample of how special he thought she was. He was hopeful that, by the time he told her about his potential son or daughter on the way, she’d love him enough to stand with him in whatever battle he would face. He’d nearly jumped way ahead to the last page. Fortunately, he’d come to his senses before he’d blown any chance he could have. He’d brought Anna here to surprise her and treat her like someone special, and that was all he was going to do.
Once they arrived back at his car, he pulled out the soft fuzzy picnic blanket he’d bought and spread it on the ground for Anna. When he stepped back to allow her to sit, she turned to him and started to open her mouth, but when she made eye contact with him, she quickly closed her mouth and sank down. Afraid his voice wouldn’t come out the way he wanted, he simply smiled, then returned to the car to unload everything he’d brought and set up his portable barbecue.
After he hooked up the propane cylinder and turned the barbecue on to let it heat up, he hauled the cooler out of the car and set everything out within easy reach.
“What is all this? What have you brought?”
Back into his game, he grinned. “My own secret recipe potato salad, deviled eggs, Caesar salad; and when the barbecue is ready, I’m going to make the best hamburgers you’ve ever tasted in your life. Then for dessert, we’re going to have double chocolate brownies and end everything with my special lemon iced tea.”
“All this, for just the two of us?”
He cleared his throat. “Ja.”