by Bonnie Leon
Willa, Callie, and Lily busily moved from window to window, door to door, sealing off cracks, anyplace dust and dirt might find its way indoors.
Callie hurried to Rebecca, leaned close, and whispered, “It’s a bad one, mum. Ya’ll be stayin’ home for a while.”
Disappointment swept over Rebecca. She must leave before the men returned. “How long do these storms usually last?”
“Never know. Day, maybe more.”
Carrying a damp towel, Willa stepped in from the kitchen. “There’s only one thing I detest about living here, and this is it.” She pressed the towel along the bottom edge of a window. “It seems that no matter what we do, the dirt finds its way inside. We’ll be tasting it long after the wind stops.”
“Callie said it could last more than a day,” Rebecca said.
Straightening and brushing a loose strand of hair off her forehead, Willa said, “My, yes. I’ve seen it go on for days and days. I pray this one will be short-lived.” She gazed out the front window. “And may the Lord watch over our men and provide them with shelter. They must be close to home by now.”
The wind and dirt roiled around the house for three days. Trapped, Rebecca paced and waited. Now that she’d made the decision to go, she felt driven to leave. And with each passing day, she feared the men’s return. Surely they must have found shelter somewhere, she thought. They couldn’t possibly travel in this weather. Still, she watched.
Finally the wind quieted and the air cleared. Rebecca made plans to leave the following morning. She’d packed only two bags; the rest of her things could be shipped later or replaced.
That day the men returned.
Daniel walked from the barn to the house. His step seemed to have more life to it than it had when he’d left. Rebecca felt a sense of the old Daniel. She longed to sit and chat. Memories of mornings spent in his arms haunted her.
Bertram stepped out of the barn. He looked at the house, then settled his gaze on Rebecca. It lingered on her abdomen, and Rebecca felt heat in her cheeks. Although innocent, she felt the reproof of his accusation.
Daniel stepped onto the porch. “G’day. Hope you fared well during the storm.”
“Yes. We were fine, thank you.”
He stood there a moment longer as if he had something more to say, then walked inside the house.
At supper Bertram was animated, talking about the journey, the fact that few animals were lost, and the good prices they’d managed to get. Rebecca, on the other hand, remained quiet and was barely able to choke down her meal. Afterward, Bertram went to the library and Daniel said something about going out. Willa and Rebecca moved to the parlor.
The clock ticked away the minutes. Rebecca tried to read, but the words couldn’t penetrate her mind as she contemplated what lay ahead. When it was time for her to go up to bed, she longed to say a proper farewell.
Willa sat in the glow of a lantern, continuing her work on the baby’s blanket. She held up the nearly finished piece. “It’s coming along quite nicely, don’t you think?”
“Yes. It’s beautiful,” Rebecca said, swallowing past a lump in her throat. The baby would never use it. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
She gazed at Willa. She’d accepted Rebecca into her home, then loved her as she would her own daughter. Rebecca bent and kissed her cheek. “You’re a lovely person, Willa.” She dared not say more.
“Why, thank you, dear.” She took Rebecca’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. I know it’s not been easy for you, but life has a way of working out. You’ll see.”
Rebecca squeezed Willa’s hand and retreated.
Feeling miserable, Rebecca climbed beneath the covers and tried to relax. Hoping for a few hours’ sleep, she closed her eyes. Her mind reeled with plans and fears. Finally she lay staring into the darkness, working through the process of hitching the horses to the surrey and the techniques of steering the team. What if she couldn’t handle the horses, or what if she lost her way in the early morning gloom? What if . . . The questions went on and on.
She pushed aside her worries, but they were only replaced by thoughts of Daniel.
Memories tumbled through her mind—how she’d met him, their days in Boston, and the plans they’d shared. She pictured his handsome face and sympathetic blue eyes. The heavy weight of loss felt suffocating. She would raise her child in Boston, alone. Daniel would live here on the plains of Queensland. Never again would she know his tender touch. Darkness pressed in, and tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.
More than once Daniel had started up the stairs. He and Rebecca couldn’t go on as they had been. He must speak to her.
Everyone had gone to bed, leaving the house dark and quiet. She’s no doubt asleep, he told himself and sat on the bottom step. What good will it do to talk? What have I to say? I don’t even know how I feel. He scrubbed his face with his hands. He was weary, not the kind of weariness that comes from hard work but the sort that evolves from emotional emptiness.
“I love her,” he said to the quietness. He stood and gripped the handrail. I can put her indiscretion behind me. We’ll begin again. He took a step, then stopped. Could he really put it behind him? Yes, he told himself.
With a feeling of urgency, Daniel headed up the staircase and walked toward Rebecca’s room. The closer he got, the heavier his steps became and the less confident he felt. Finally he stood in front of her door. He didn’t knock but stared at it. He could see Jim and Rebecca . . . together. The knot in the pit of his stomach ached. I’ve no choice. I can’t stop loving her. He knocked.
“Who is it?” Rebecca asked.
“Daniel. Can we talk?”
“It’s awfully late.” There was a long pause, then Rebecca said, “Tomorrow after breakfast?”
“No. It can’t wait.”
“All right. Just a moment.”
Daniel waited until Rebecca opened the door. She had a bathrobe pulled tightly about her, and dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her eyes looked wide and anxious. A wave of love and desire crashed over Daniel.
“I didn’t mean to awaken you.”
“It’s late, Daniel.”
“Yes, I know. But I just need a few minutes.” When Rebecca didn’t respond, he stepped inside and closed the door.
Clutching her robe close, she moved to the window. “What is it you want?”
He knew she’d shut him out and felt the chill of her scorn. “Right.” He glanced at his feet, then continued, “While I was gone I did some thinking.”
“Oh, what about? You and Meghan? Did you enjoy her company?”
“Rebecca, don’t. There’s nothing between ’er and me.” He worked to gather his thoughts. He had to do this right. “I may have misjudged you a bit. Perhaps I’ve been too hard on you.”
“Too hard, you think?” Rebecca’s tone was bitter. She turned scornful eyes on him. “You believed the lies without even allowing me the courtesy of defending myself.”
“You’re right. I did. I just kept seeing you two, and I knew how much you liked Jim, and you both being Americans, well . . . I’m like any other bloke, I guess. I got a bit carried away. But I saw the two of you together . . . more than once. What was I to think?” He forced a smile. “I want to put all that behind us, eh? I’ve decided to give you another chance. I’ve forgiven you. We can begin again.”
“You’ve forgiven me? I did nothing wrong.” Rebecca swept a hand through her hair. “You believed the lie. You gave no thought to who I am or my promise to you. If you knew me, you would have known I could never do such a thing. And this baby, you still don’t believe it’s yours, do you?”
Daniel couldn’t answer right away. He didn’t know what he thought.
“I see. And what kind of life can a child have when his own father won’t claim him?” Rebecca sighed heavily. “We have nothing to talk about, Daniel.”
“I need a bit more time is all. I’ll come ’round. I do believe you.” Even as Daniel said the words, he kne
w they weren’t true. He didn’t believe, not completely, anyway.
“You can say the words, but they don’t come from your heart. Until they do, we have nothing to say to each other.”
“All right, it’s true. I don’t know what I believe, but I’ll manage.”
“I refuse to live in a house where my own husband, not to mention my father-in-law, can’t trust me.” She met his eyes squarely. “There’s only one way I’ll believe you’re ready to at least try. You must stand up to your father. Be the man God intended you to be. Go to him and tell him I’m innocent of the accusations. Tell him he will no longer bully me, and tell him I’m not his daughter but your wife! You’ll have to choose, Daniel—me or your father.” Rebecca folded her arms over her chest.
Daniel couldn’t say what she wanted to hear. “It doesn’t have to be a choice. We can have a fine life and still get along with my father.” He glanced at the burning lantern. “He’ll not listen. He’ll quote Scripture and tell me that a man is the head of his wife and that I’m to control you. He’ll not change. And I can’t make him—this is his house,” Daniel said, knowing he’d put an end to his marriage.
“It seems you and your father have conveniently forgotten an important part of what God has to say about marriages. Your father likes to quote Ephesians 5:22, but he fails to mention the part that says a man is to love his wife as Christ loved the church—as Christ loved the church, Daniel. Jesus Christ died for the church. He gave everything, including his life. He made the ultimate sacrifice, and all that was required of the church was to love him in return. I had hoped to love you. I’ve even wondered a time or two if I might . . . love you. But that’s not enough anymore. You and your father have seen to that.” Her voice turned soft, the fight seeping from her.
Daniel was confused. He’d never paid any mind to the portion of Scripture Rebecca mentioned. And his father had never brought it up. He took a step toward Rebecca and grasped her hand. “I love you. I ache for you. But there’s nothing I can say that will change my father’s mind. He is who he is. We must accept that. If we live ’ere, then we must do things his way.”
“Why must we live here?”
“You know I can’t leave.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and wrenched her hand out of Daniel’s. “Please go.”
Daniel felt powerless. He couldn’t please his wife; he couldn’t please his father. All his life he’d answered to Bertram. He tried to imagine what it would be like to defy the man. It would be an all-out war. There must be another way.
Rebecca turned her back on Daniel. “Good night.”
Revolted at his own weakness, he walked to the door. What more could he say? What could he do? There was no way to save his marriage and preserve his relationship with his father. He would have to choose.
24
Rebecca woke with a start. She pushed up on one elbow and looked about. Already morning light illuminated the room. She hadn’t meant to sleep so long. Was the staff up? What about Bertram?
She listened for activity. There was only silence. “Thank you, Lord,” Rebecca said, throwing off the sheets. Her feet found the floor. While removing her nightdress, she hurried to the armoire.
Pulling a chemise over her head, she was struck by the magnitude of what she was about to do. Her fingers felt clumsy, and her hands shook while she dressed. It took several tries to manage the buttons on her gown. In the semidarkness, she pulled on stockings and pushed her feet into sensible shoes. If she was to spend the next several days traveling, comfort would be important.
Opening the bedroom door just a crack, she listened. The house was still. She peeked out into the dimly lit hallway. It was empty, but soon the family would be up. She must hurry or be found out.
Leaving the door ajar, she moved to the closet and retrieved the two bags she’d packed. It would scarcely be enough, but she had little choice. After taking another glance up and down the corridor, she cautiously set the bags in the hallway and stepped out, closing the door with care. Her heart pounded hard beneath her ribs. Pressing a hand to her chest, she took in a deep breath, then started toward the staircase.
A loud pop from the floorboards startled her. She stopped and pressed her back against the wall. Lord, help me to move soundlessly, like Callie. The thought of her aborigine friend brought a pang of regret. She would miss her.
Rebecca started down the stairway but stopped when she heard noise coming from the kitchen. Sitting on a step, she pressed close to the wall and listened. The grate on the kitchen stove rasped as it was moved; then the crunch of paper being shoved into the firebox disrupted the quiet of the house. Lily was up and already at work.
Rebecca pushed to her feet and swiftly took the final steps. Her eyes swept over the parlor as she passed, hesitating on the chairs where she and Willa often sat and visited while doing their needlework. Sadness pressed down on her. From the start Willa had been family. Losing her daughter-in-law and grandchild would leave a painful wound. I’m so sorry, Willa. I wish there were another way.
Ghosts of those she loved and cared about followed her as she crossed the foyer. She remembered her first day—Woodman’s friendship and Jim’s contrary behavior. Her friendship with Jim had been a pleasant surprise. She hadn’t had any premonition of the heartache that would come from it. I should have seen the danger. It’s too late now, she thought, realizing that no matter what she’d done both Daniel and Bertram would have eventually rejected her.
At the front entryway Rebecca set down one of her bags and opened the heavy front door. It groaned. She was certain someone would hear. Holding her breath, she waited. No one came. With a small sense of triumph, she stepped onto the veranda, picked up her bag, and closed the door.
The sun touched the edges of the morning sky, reminding her of evenings spent with Daniel on the veranda, watching as a descending sun burned the heavens with vibrant color. They had often stayed until the sky went black and stars emerged to wink down at them as if encouraging love.
How could it all have changed so completely? She’d started to hope there could be love. Tears threatened, but she blinked them away and walked down the steps, a bag in each hand.
When Rebecca was several paces from the porch, she turned and looked at the house. It glowed in the coming dawn. It didn’t look at all evil.
She stared at Daniel’s bedroom window. A curtain trembled in the breeze. What would he think when he discovered that she’d gone? Would he be bereft or relieved? She would have liked to say good-bye.
Her resolve wavered. Was there another way? She thought over all that had happened and where the events had led—her relationship with Bertram, Daniel’s lack of trust. No. There’s nothing I can do. With fresh determination, she hurried toward the carriage house.
The horses stood quietly in their stalls, tails swishing, teeth grinding the last of the previous day’s hay. Rebecca took only a moment to give the matched set of Morgans a pat before running to the tack room to get the harnesses. A bird trapped inside during the night fluttered past in a flight for freedom. Startled, Rebecca stopped and caught her breath. She watched as the bird soared through the open door.
Grabbing pads and collars, she hurried back to the stalls. Setting some of the gear on the floor, she stepped in beside one of the Morgans. With a soothing stroke, she placed a blanket on his back, then reached under his chest, lifted the collar, and fastened it at the top of his neck. After doing the same with the other horse, she grabbed a light driving harness and, careful not to tangle it, placed it along the Morgan’s back, then fastened the harness strap to the collar. Hands shaking, she pulled the breeching over the gelding’s rump and lifted the animal’s tail, then dropped the breeching into place.
She returned to the tack room for the remainder of the gear. Then, once back with the horses, she closed her eyes and struggled to remember the next step. What had Woodman done? She’d watched him so many times. Lord, help me remember.
Taking a deep breath, she hooked
one end of the belly strap to the pad, then leaving it hanging, moved around the gelding, grabbed the belly strap, and hooked it to the other side of the pad. Finally, she placed a headstall on the animal, guided the bit into his mouth, and made sure the blinders were in place.
Out of breath and shaking, she hurried to do the same with the other horse. A feeling of success began to grow. She’d nearly done it. She led each horse to a hitching post and tied them side by side. Well trained, they stood quietly.
She glanced at the sky. It was becoming brighter. There was little time.
Half running, Rebecca returned to the carriage house and pulled the surrey out. It was lighter than she’d expected, and the large wheels made it easy to maneuver. She lined it up behind the Morgans and hooked the traces to the harness and ran them back to the surrey, then grabbed the pole and moved it into place between the team. She lifted it up and hooked it to the neck strap of each horse. Out of breath from her efforts, she ran the tugs down the sides of the horses and connected them to the chain links on a wooden doubletree at the front of the surrey.
She’d done it!
Taking a quick glance at the horizon, she realized the sun was up. She was out of time. After quickly checking the lines to make certain everything was in order, she loaded her bags and climbed into the surrey. Carefully backing up, she turned toward the road. With a soft flick of the reins, the team moved away from the carriage house.
A light glimmered in Callie’s cabin, and Rebecca wished she could say good-bye. She didn’t dare stop. She walked past, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friend, but Callie didn’t step outside.
The horses tossed their heads. Rebecca gripped the reins tightly but dared not yank on them for fear of distressing the animals. The sound of jangling harness and the creaking wagon seemed exceedingly loud. Everyone will hear. She glanced at the house.