by Amy Rognlie
Mr. Duncan straightened in his chair. “Anyway, I gathered the staff together and we prayed. We kept watch on the ship day and night, trying to find a time when the guard would be the least likely to be alert. We were getting concerned about you being down there for so long, Raine, but they had someone posted constantly. Finally, we heard them talking excitedly about a big party planned for the next evening.”
Mr. Duncan’s gaze swept over her short hair and still-pale cheeks. “I didn’t know what kind of condition I would find you in, Raine. It was pretty risky to try it in broad daylight, but in the end, I think it worked out fine.”
She nodded, astounded at the risk that had been taken on her behalf.
Mr. Duncan’s eyes traveled to her hair again. “We figured it would be less noticeable if you were not quite so, ah, so. . . noticeably a woman,” he ended lamely, his face turning red. “Anyway, you’re small enough that we hoped that everyone would think you were a young boy. I’m sorry I had to cut your hair.” His eyes dropped to his hands. “So, I guess that’s all. God was with us.”
eight
Ben groaned as Violet captured yet another one of his pawns. “I just can’t keep my mind on the game today, Violet,” he apologized.
She eyed the young man sitting across from her. “I know it’s hard, son, but surely you’ll hear from Raine or her father soon.”
“I hope so.” He stared absently at the chess board, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s just so hard not knowing what’s going on!”
“The Lord has His hand on that gal, Ben. She’ll be fine.”
Later that evening, Ben sighed as he punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape. He had been in bed for hours, tossing and turning. Christ, I know that I gave my life to You, and that I’m supposed to trust You. But I don’t understand how You could let something bad happen to Raine. She loves You! I thought I was starting to get to know You, but I guess I don’t. . .
Unable to deal with his troubling thoughts, Ben got up and lit the lamp. Shivering, he grabbed his robe out of the massive wardrobe at the end of the bed. Being as quiet as possible, he eased the wardrobe door closed—and caught his toe on the leg of the bed as he turned. Losing his balance, he crashed into the wardrobe, sending an avalanche of boxes and bags crashing to the floor.
He sat up ruefully, certain that he had awakened Violet. He was silent for a long minute, listening, but he heard nothing except the faithful bonging of the grandfather clock. His shoulder ached from its meeting with the heavy oak door.
He stood, surveying the mess he had created. Feeling rather like a naughty little boy, he peered into one of boxes, laughing out loud as he pulled out a very fancy hat. Large and purple, it was covered with faded violets. Hastily putting the creation back in its box, he couldn’t resist opening another box.
Another hat. This one was brown felt with a mink band. A matching mink muff lay in the bottom of the box. He carefully stacked the rest of the boxes, pushing them onto the top shelf of the wardrobe where it was apparent they had resided for quite some time. He brushed the dust off his hands, smiling as he imagined Violet wearing the wild purple hat. She must have been quite a fashionable lady in her day. He chuckled.
Closing the wardrobe firmly this time, he inched around the bed to avoid repeating the mishap. He glanced down as he heard the crunch of paper. Deciding that the yellowed paper must have fallen out of the wardrobe along with everything else, he stooped to pick it up.
He hadn’t meant to read it, but as he glanced at the old letter, a sentence jumped out at him. His heart stopped. Sinking down on the side of the bed, he scanned the letter. Could it mean what he thought it did?
❧
Raine stood in front of her father’s house, feeling her mouth grow dry.
“You can do it,” Charlotte said.
Raine glanced at her friend. “I guess I’m just not sure I want to, Char.” Grasping her bag, she marched to the big red door, wishing for Ben’s comforting presence. It was nice to have Charlotte along, but it just wasn’t the same.
She knocked. Hearing no movement from within, she knocked again with more energy. The house remained silent. She tried the doorknob, surprised as it turned easily in her hand.
Slipping through the door, she was gagged by the stale, closed-up odor of the house. Surely Papa hasn’t. . . She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. She set her bag down and tiptoed through the darkened living room, Charlotte close behind.
Reaching the hallway, she heard a faint sound coming from the bedroom. She felt like an intruder as she peeked around the corner. There. In the bed by the window. Her heart began to pound as she spotted him. “Papa!” She ran to him, taking his thin hand in hers. He moved restlessly, but didn’t respond.
Raine was shocked at the gray in his hair, the dark hollows under his eyes. “Oh, Papa.” she glanced around the room. Where was Dr. Delfin? She could tell someone had been here recently; her father’s bed was neat and clean, a vase of fresh flowers was on the bedside table.
She settled herself in a chair next to her father, noticing that Charlotte had disappeared. She looked at the man lying in front of her. How he had changed! There were lines etched on his face that she had never seen before, lines of remorse and grief. She put her hand out, smoothing the graying hair off of his forehead. “I’m here, Papa,” she whispered. “Please come back to me!” Exhausted, she let her head drop against the side of the bed.
She woke with a start as she sensed another’s presence in the room. Recognizing Dr. Delfin, she sank back down in her chair. “I’m so glad you’re here, Dr. Delfin. What’s wrong with Papa?”
A smile lit the old doctor’s face. “It’s so good to see you, Raine,” he said heartily. “We were concerned that something had happened to you.”
“Yes, I was. . .delayed.” Raine felt reluctant to add to his worries by telling of her abduction. “But how is Papa?”
She saw the shadows in the old doctor’s eyes before he concealed them from her with a cheery smile. “I think you’re going to be his best medicine, Raine.”
“Doctor—”
“Ah, Raine. I can’t lie to you. I can’t help your father—he’s dying of a broken heart. That’s my best diagnosis.”
Raine bowed her head. “If only he’d told us,” she whispered.
“Then you know?” The old doctor sounded relieved. “You know that Paul was your half-brother?”
She nodded. “Paul evidently came across a copy of his birth certificate. He left it for me in a safety deposit box in Boston.”
He sighed. “Miriam was so young. She had a terrible time delivering Paul. She hung on for a couple of hours, but I just couldn’t save her.” Dr. Delfin closed his eyes, reliving the painful day. “Your father was crushed. He had planned on marrying her, you know.”
Raine shook her head. “No. All I knew was that the name listed on Paul’s birth certificate wasn’t the name of my mother. I didn’t know any of the details.”
“Paul’s grandmother, his mother’s mother, helped your father care for him for awhile. Then Richard met Ellen. She was willing to take Paul as her own.”
Raine was silent, pondering the strength her mother must have had.
“It was a happy day when they added you to their family, Raine.”
She smiled absently, her thoughts perplexed. “But why. . . why did they keep it all such a secret?”
Dr. Delfin shrugged. “It’s not easy to admit failures, Raine. Especially to your children. And when he became a clergyman, your father felt even more pressure to keep his past sins a secret.”
“But for Papa to accuse Paul of doing the same thing he had done. . .” Raine’s sentence trailed off as she thought of her brother. What added pain it must have been to discover his father’s sin, hidden all these years.
The doctor nodded, his face grave. “It was your father’s own guilt that made him so furious with your brother. But he only made his guilt worse when he sent Paul away.
All these years, for all that he’s a man of God, he’s let guilt eat at him, consuming him. I suspect he became a clergyman as a way to try to atone for his sins—but of course we can never create our own atonement. God’s forgiveness is the only medicine that can cure him now.”
❧
John waved the paper wildly in front of Ben’s nose. “Praise God! She’s safe!”
Ben snatched the telegram from his hand. Reading the brief message, he let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he murmured, longing to hold her in his arms, to reassure himself that she really was fine.
“It says she’ll be writing soon to tell us everything. I can’t wait to hear what happened.” Noticing Ben’s silence, John put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “What is it, Ben?”
Ben stared at John, misery filling his eyes. “I doubted God,” he whispered, dropping his gaze. “I questioned Him. I was angry that He would allow something to happen to Raine.”
John’s eyes softened. “Ah, Ben,” he sighed. “Everyone has questioned God at one time or another. We’re human, and humans are weak sometimes. But He still loves you. Just because you failed doesn’t mean it’s all over.”
Ben looked up hopefully as John smiled. “Just ask Him to forgive you, son. Then ask Him to help you do better next time. You’re going to be just fine, Captain,” John continued, “especially when that pretty little niece of mine gets back!” He chuckled at the look on Ben’s face.
“I love her, John,” Ben said seriously.
“I know you do, son. I know.”
❧
Raine tossed and turned on her makeshift bed. She strained to hear her father’s breathing. Convinced he was resting comfortably, she lay back down on the cot she had set up next to his bed.
Morning dawned at last, and she felt his eyes on her face before she was even fully awake. “Good morning, Papa,” she said softly.
He started. “I thought I was imagining things!” Slow tears trickled out of his eyes as she rushed to his side. “I thought I would never see you again in this world, Raine.”
She smoothed his hair back with gentle fingers. “I’m here now, Papa,” she assured him. “I’ll take care of you.” She longed to ask him about Paul, but that would have to wait until he was stronger. He closed his eyes then, a faint smile on his lips, and she sat by his bedside until he fell asleep.
Studying him, she was amazed at the changes that had overtaken him since the last time she had been home. Richard Thomas was just a shell of the handsome, robust man he had once been. Pondering this, she felt the last shreds of bitterness toward her father dissolve. Sorrow took its place, sorrow that a once-strong man of God had allowed himself to slip into so much sin and pain.
Why, Papa? she cried silently for the hundredth time. We loved you. You didn’t have to deceive us. We wouldn’t have forsaken you even if we had known the truth.
Dr. Delfin stopped by in the evening, thrilled to find his patient resting quietly. “Ah, I knew you would be the best medicine in the world, Raine. Now, if we could only find that brother of yours.”
Oh, no. “Papa doesn’t know where Paul is?”
Dr. Delfin looked surprised. “Not to my knowledge. Do you know where he is?”
She shook her head, disappointment flooding through her. “I thought, well, I assumed that. . .”
“Your father lost contact with Paul just after he learned that Paul survived the shipwreck.”
Raine frowned. “He knows as much as I do, then,” she said, sighing. “I thought for sure Papa could tell me where Paul was.”
Had she come this far only to be stymied again? She felt hot tears begin to gather, and she saw Charlotte and the doctor exchange glances over her head.
“Come on, Raine,” Charlotte said. “Let’s get a breath of fresh air.”
She nodded, following Charlotte out the door. It did feel good to be out in the warm sunshine after being in Papa’s dark little room for so long. She took several deep breaths of pine-scented air and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Char.” She bent to pick a sprig of lily-of-the-valley. “I should be happy that Papa’s doing some better, and I am, but I was just so sure that he would tell me where Paul was.”
“God’s timing is perfect, Raine.”
Raine lifted the tiny flowers to her nose, breathing in the delicate perfume. Charlotte was right, of course. She should be used to unfamiliar paths by now. “Don’t stop praying for me, friend.”
Charlotte smiled. “Never. Now, let’s go get something to eat. I know how grumpy you get when you’re hungry.”
“I can’t help it that I’ve been blessed with a healthy appetite, can I?”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Healthy? Try hearty. Or hoggish. Or manly. Or. . .”
Raine laughed, in spite of her worry. “All right, all right. Lead the way to the pig trough.”
❧
But disappointment still lay heavily on her that night as she tried to sleep. Her father had only awakened for brief periods throughout the evening, so she had no opportunity to question him about Paul. Where are you, Paul? I thought I was so close.
She pulled the covers up more snugly around her neck. Father, I know You’ve led me thus far. Thank You for delivering me from my captor, and thank You for keeping Papa until I could see him one more time. Please continue to guide me to Paul. Finally drifting to sleep, she dreamed sweet dreams of Ben. Waking in the morning, he filled her thoughts. If only he weren’t so far away!
“Raine?” She jumped as she heard her father’s weak voice.
“Coming, Papa!” She hurriedly brushed her hair, smoothing it back as she entered her father’s room. “How are you this morning, Papa?”
“I was hoping I hadn’t dreamed that you were here.”
“I’m really here, Papa,” she assured him again. “I came as soon as I got the telegram from Dr. Delfin, but I was delayed in London for a few days.” Giving him no time to question her, she quickly asked, “Are you ready for breakfast this morning?”
Her father raised an eyebrow. “Did Dr. Delfin appoint you as my personal nurse?” he teased, showing the first hint of his old self that Raine had seen since she arrived.
“Yes, he did, as a matter of fact.” She smiled at him. “So—will it be oatmeal or toast?”
After he had eaten, her father put his napkin down with a tired smile. “Thank you, Raine. That was delicious.”
“Are you ready to rest, Papa? Here, I’ll help you. . .”
He pushed her hand away. “I’m tired of resting.”
She sat back on her heels, waiting as he shifted restlessly, avoiding her gaze.
“I think we need to talk, Raine,” he said at last.
Her heart began to pound. Now that the time had come, she wasn’t sure she could handle hearing everything. “Papa—”
“I need to do this, Raine.” Her father looked her in the eye. “I need to make things right.” Averting his eyes again, he stared at the wall. “I just don’t know where to begin.”
Raine put a gentle hand on his. “I love you, Papa,” she said quietly. “No matter what you have to tell me, I love you.”
Richard Thomas heaved, and then sobs forced themselves out of his mouth in great gasps. It was long moments before he could speak. “You don’t know what I’ve done, Raine. I’ve been so miserable.” Tears poured down his face. “I forced my own son away, condemning him for something he didn’t do. In my heart I knew all along he didn’t do it—and then when that girl finally admitted publicly that the father of her baby was someone else. I was wrong. . .so wrong. . .”
She let him cry, knowing that he had to deal with it in his own way. Richard finally pulled himself together. Reach-ing for his daughter’s hand, he held on tightly as if to gain strength from her. “I accused Paul of the very thing I was guilty of,” he whispered in agony. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Raine, but. . .”
“I know, Papa.”
“
What?”
“I already know.” She explained how Paul had left his birth certificate in the safety deposit box. “Dr. Delfin filled in the details for me, Papa. You don’t have to talk about it any more.”
Her father hung his head. “I thought you and Paul would never have to know, that it would somehow be easier that way. But I’ve never forgiven myself. I should have. . .”
“Papa—”
“There’s more, Raine.” Richard looked at his daughter intently now, seemingly determined to get everything out in the open. “I’m sure you’ve agonized over not hearing from your brother all this time. He wrote you many letters, Raine.”
She gasped. “Then why. . .?”
He closed his eyes in pain. “I was being eaten alive by guilt, Raine. When it appeared that Paul had committed the same sin that I had been hiding, it just compounded my own guilt and pain. I felt that I had been a failure as a father; that somehow my sin had been passed down to my son even without his knowledge. I’m afraid I took out all those frustrations on Paul.”
“But—the letters?”
“I was so angry, Raine. I didn’t want to ever see Paul again. Just the sight of him enflamed my guilt. I didn’t even want you to have anything to do with him, so I read the letters myself—something inside me still cared enough about him to want to know where he was and how he was doing. But then I burned every letter.” He buried his face in his hands. “You’ll never know how sorry I am,” he groaned.
“Oh, Papa.” No wonder Paul thought I had turned my back on him, Raine mourned.
Her father took a deep breath. “I still loved your brother deeply, even though I was furious with him. I couldn’t bring myself to speak his name out loud—but I had to know if he was safe, if he was telling the truth in his letters to you. I. . .I had him followed.”
Raine stared at her father, feeling befuddled. What was he saying?