Farmer's Daughter Romance Collection : Five Historical Romances Homegrown in the American Heartland (9781630586164)
Page 68
Since her mouth was dry and wordless, Lilly nodded.
“Let’s sit by the river.”
Heinrick led her into the sunshine, down the bluff, and they sat on a piece of bald cottonwood. Lilly pulled out her Bible, and passed it to him.
He held it in his large, rough hands and caressed the smooth leather with his thumbs. “A Bible,” he murmured.
“Do you have one?”
“Of course, although mine is in German.”
She nodded, letting that information digest. Then she flipped the Bible to Genesis. and read the first verse. “Reading is just a matter of decoding the letters, sounding them out to form words your ear already knows.”
“My ear doesn’t know many words.”
“Heinrick, I’ve heard enough to know that you will read just fine. You have a wonderful vocabulary. And what words you don’t know, I’ll explain.”
He nodded, and she continued the lesson. “Our English alphabet is made up of twenty-six letters. From these letters, you form words, using a few basic rules, which I will teach you. First, let’s learn the letters.”
She pointed out each letter from the text in Genesis. He was a good student, despite his warning, turning each one over his tongue with little accent. Recognition came more quickly than she expected, and by the time the bluff swathed them in shadow, he’d read all the words in the first and second verses.
Lilly beamed at him. “You’re a good student.”
“Thanks,” he said, his gaze buried in the Bible. He was running his finger over the third verse when she pulled the book from his grasp and folded it on her lap.
“Enough school,” she declared. “Tell me why I’ve never met you before. I’ve been working for Erica Torgesen for almost a year.”
“I only just arrived to the Torgesens. I’ve lived many places in America: New York City, Ohio, Milwaukee, Iowa, and now Dakota.”
He acted as if it was normal to live so many places, like a homeless stray.
“I see,” Lilly said, realizing how lonely his life must be. “Do you miss your home?”
He was silent, and when he turned to her, a thousand images gathered in his eyes. He blinked as if trying to get a fix on just one. Then the images dissolved, leaving a residue of pain in their wake. “Yes.”
Lilly noticed how his hands curled over his knees, completely encasing them.
“But Germany isn’t home anymore.”
Lilly’s eyebrows gathered her confusion.
“Dakota is home now. I am home wherever God puts me, because I am in God’s hands.”
Lilly shook her head. “Home is family. Home is friends. God gives us those, but you certainly can’t say that Reggie, or Chuck, or Harley are home.”
“Perhaps. But to spend your entire life yearning for something else, instead of surrendering to God’s plans seems like a foreign land to me. Home is peace. And peace is being where God puts you.”
“And God has put you here, in bondage to the Torgesens?”
“For now. But I know He has a plan, just like He had a plan for Joseph in the book of Genesis. I just have to trust Him and wait.”
“But what if…?” The words lodged in her throat. She looked downstream, away from Heinrick.
“What if what, Lilly?”
“What if things get messed up; what if life doesn’t go according to plan?” Lilly felt Heinrick’s gaze on her neck and bit her lip. She knew she’d just opened her heart for his scrutiny.
“Whose plan?” he asked softly. His knee bumped hers as he turned toward her.
Lilly swallowed her leaden heart. “Well, our plan, of course. The plan of life, the one we spend our entire lives creating.”
“Whose plan is it, though? Don’t you think Joseph struggled over the death of his dreams, while trudging behind a caravan of camels on his way to Egypt? But he trusted God’s plans, even while sitting in a prison, accused of a crime he didn’t commit. God delivered him and a nation. Shouldn’t all our plans belong to God?”
Lilly studied her fingernails, acutely aware of his gaze on her. “But God’s plans are what the church and your parents say they are, aren’t they? Isn’t that God’s voice?”
“It could be. God does speak through our church and family.” He nodded slowly. “That’s one way.”
“How else, then, do you know what God wants you to do?”
Heinrick tapped her Bible. “God’s Word. You have to read. God’s plans are revealed one day at a time, through His Word and the Holy Spirit working in our lives.”
Lilly rubbed the leather. “Listen, Heinrick. This is all very interesting, and I am sure, where you come from, it is part of your religion. But here, God leads me through my pastor, through my parents, and through Reggie. I just have to obey them to do what God wants.”
Heinrick stared out over the water and beyond. “Lilly, do you know the difference between faith and obedience?”
Lilly’s eyes narrowed and she shook her head warily. Whose lesson was this, anyway?
“Why wasn’t Cain’s sacrifice acceptable to God?”
Lilly frowned, confused. Heinrick’s eyes gleamed, so intent was he on his sermon. He tucked a hand over hers on the Bible.
“Because it was a fruit offering?” she stammered, her gaze on his warm hand.
“No. It wasn’t about the offering; it was about his heart. God looked at Cain and Abel first, then upon their offerings. He looked at their hearts and their faith. Cain’s offering was all about fulfilling the law, about serving himself, about doing what was necessary to secure his forgiveness. But Abel’s heart belonged to God, and he offered his lamb out of worship and faith in God’s salvation. Abel’s sacrifice was accepted because of his faith.
“Lilly, faith is an action. Obedience is a reaction. We obey God because we love Him, not because we want God to love us or want to earn a place in heaven.”
Lilly lifted her chin. “Show me your faith, and I will show you my faith with actions.”
Heinrick pulled the Bible from her hands and flipped through it. Silently he scanned the pages, then, blowing out a breath, he handed it back to her. “Could you read Hebrews 11:1 for me, please?”
She scowled at him, but found it and read aloud, “ ‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’ ” Lilly closed the Bible.
“ ‘If you love me you will obey my commands,’ ” she countered. She hadn’t spent years softening a pew for nothing.
Heinrick sighed and again pulled God’s Word from her lap. He flipped, wearing his determination like a mask. But, in time, his resonant tenor voice stammered out the verse. “ ‘For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.’ ” He paused. Lilly listened to the hammering of her heart.
When he at last spoke, the words seemed to unroll from his very soul, passionate, authentic, and nearly desperate.
“Lilly, God loves us so much that when we were still sinners, before we obeyed even His slightest desire, He died for us. We don’t have to earn His love or His salvation. He has good things waiting for us, even if sometimes it doesn’t seem like it. We have to be like Joseph. He put his life into God’s hands on a daily, moment-by-moment basis. But to put your life into God’s hands and to surrender to His plans, you need to know Him. You have to read the Bible to know what He wants you to do.”
“I know the Bible. It says that faith is obedience.”
“Obedience is evidence of faith, Lilly. It isn’t faith itself. Faith is unwavering trust in God to lead and to guide, wherever He wants. And it is knowing, in the pit of your soul, that He loves you and knows best.”
His eyes glowed with their intensity. She wanted to flinch, but his gaze drew her in, like a warm fire on a cold night. Heinrick passed her the Bible. “Hebrews 11:6.”
No one had ever spoken to her this way, not Revernad Larsen and certainly not Reggie. It seemed edging near impropriety to be talking abo
ut God so openly, so intimately with anyone, let alone Heinrick. Yet she was drawn to the mystery of his God, and when she read the words, something seemed to ignite deep inside her.
“ ‘But without faith it is impossible to please him: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and that he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.’ ”
Lilly closed the Bible and rubbed the smooth leather.
“Lilly,” Heinrick whispered, “do you have faith in God? Do you trust Him to plan and manage your life on His terms? Do you know He loves you?”
Lilly bit the inside of her lip to keep tears at bay. “I’m confused. I don’t know God that well, maybe.”
Heinrick’s voice was soft, like a caress on her skin, yet his words still bruised. “Lilly, perhaps you’re afraid. Do you think that if you knew God and heard His voice, He might tell you something you don’t want to hear?”
Lilly swiped away a tear.
The sun polished the surface of the river platinum. “I need to get home,” Lilly mumbled.
“And I have chores,” Heinrick agreed, but his voice betrayed disappointment. He pushed himself from the driftwood, then turned and offered her his hand. Lilly deliberated, then slipped her hand into his.
“Tomorrow?” he asked. “I promise I’ll be a good student.”
“You were a good student today,” she replied, lifting her chin. She stood almost to his shoulder and noticed how the buttons to his shirt pulled slightly across his wide chest. He put an arm around her waist and hauled her to the top of the bluff. They stood there for a moment, the wake of their conversation shifting between them like a fragrance neither could acknowledge.
“Tomorrow, after supper,” Lilly blurted. Then she yanked her hand from his and ran toward home.
Chapter 14
Lilly sat on the bald cottonwood by the river watching the amber sky melt into the mud, listening to the crickets scold her for her naiveté. Why had Heinrick stood her up? After four days, she’d learned to count on his punctuality. He read with remarkable precision, and although she hated to admit it, his accented voice made warm syrup run through her veins. Her heart began to long for that moment when he turned his blue eyes into hers and asked for another lesson.
Where was Heinrick? Tears bit her eyes. How rude! Didn’t he know that she dodged suspicion every time she raced down to the river to meet him? It was becoming harder to weave tales that only skimmed the definition of lies.
But she ached to see him. Heinrick was no longer a mystery, an enigma, to her. He’d ended each lesson with a story, something from his childhood. He wanted to own land. To travel. To have a family. And he longed for, more than anything, to find a niche for himself in this new world. He’d left it unspoken, but Lilly guess that Heinrick’s deepest fear was his harsh reality—being forever a foreigner in his adopted homeland. She couldn’t help feel as if he had handed her the delicate pieces of his heart.
And now that she’d seen it, she was drawn even more to the mysterious German, to his gentle character, his passionate love for God, his simple yet noble dreams.
Was this the end? Was it the end of his infectious laughter, his enthralling stories of an unruly boyhood in the Black Forest? Lilly dug her nails into her bare arms and steeled herself against the ripple of sorrow. How could she expunge the flame that he had ignited in her heart? The warmth of their friendship drew her to the bluff every evening like the glow of a beckoning campfire on a brisk autumn night. Somehow, even the July twilight would seem cold without Heinrick’s smile.
Was Heinrick playing games? Maybe all he really wanted from her was language lessons. Had she imagined the warmth in his eyes and the softness of his touch on the small of her back?
A sour brew of fury and hurt burned in her throat. She jumped to her feet and scrambled up the bluff. It was all for the best, anyway. Heinrick was nothing but trouble, and she should have seen that when his horse almost trampled her.
Lilly marched through the grove, her feet pounding out a rhythm with her heart. Tears dripped down her cheek, and she violently whisked them away. She’d been a fool to trust him, to let him into her heart. At least she would be free of his endless probing questions about her faith. His God was simply different from hers…closer somehow, but perhaps that wasn’t a good thing. She hardly wanted to trust a God who might cast her into the hands of a person like Clive Torgesen. Heinrick must have fallen out of God’s favor, somehow, although she questioned the idea of such an honorable man offending God. Still, surely, God blessed those more who obeyed Him best. It just made sense that God balanced things out, and if she managed her side correctly, He would keep things even.
Lilly skidded to a halt in the middle of a withered clump of goldenrod. Maybe this was God’s way of punishing her! She’d betrayed Reggie and deserved to have her heart ripped out, even by another man. Shame wound into her soul.
She’d made a terrible mistake. The only thing left to do was to forget. Thankfully, Reggie would be home soon, and the entire horrid experience could be safely tucked inside a secret chapter of her life, never to be read.
Lilly tightened her jaw as she climbed up the porch steps. She tiptoed into the house, noting her mother knitting at the kitchen table, lost in conversation with her father. Lilly ducked her head, scampered up the stairs, and threw herself across the bed. There, in the privacy of her folded arms, she cried herself to sleep.
Her subconscious put a picture to her fears. She found herself on a battlefield, searching among wide-eyed, lifeless soldiers. Some clutched pictures of sweethearts; others embraced their weapons like teddy bears. Lilly whimpered as she peered into faces, finally uncovering the one she feared to find. She cried out when she saw him, his dark hair hanging over his closed eyes, lying upon a pile of erupted earth as if he was sleeping. She crawled to him, gasping, and removed his helmet. His face was covered in a layer of black stubble, and he seemed warm. But she knew, as she curled a hand under his filthy neck, Reggie was dead.
In the background, she heard the rat-a-tat-tat of machine gun fire. A voice, crisp and clean and accented in German, rose over the clatter. “Trust me.”
Lilly shuddered, for in its wake came a knowledge that if she surrendered, it would cost her everything she held dear, her dreams, her will, her very life.
Lilly woke herself up screaming.
Chapter 15
Five days crawled by, and the dream, instead of dissolving into the hazy folds of memory, invaded like a virus, multiplying in strength and repeating itself in crisp, horrifying detail every night. Lilly awoke each time gasping, tears rushing down her cheeks, hands clenching the snarled bedclothes. Twice she woke up Bonnie, who frowned with worry in the streams of dawn. Perhaps her sister had even mentioned it, because once, while Lilly and her mother gathered in the sun-dried laundry, her mother questioned Lilly about not sleeping well. Her mother hesitated when Lilly brushed off the matter, but didn’t pursue the truth.
Lilly clawed through the days, trying to drown the German-accented voice in her ears. She pulled weeds, the only things that seemed to be thriving in the kitchen garden, canned cucumbers, and stirred jam on the potbellied stove. Not once did she wander down to the river after dinner hour.
On Thursday, Olive returned from Mobridge with two letters, one for herself and the other for Lilly. Olive tucked the letter from Reggie into Lilly’s apron pocket while Lilly was wrist-deep in a bowl of bread dough. The kitchen smelled of dill weed and onions, and jars of pickles cooled on the washboard. Lilly, shocked at the addition to her apron pocket, glanced at Olive. Her sister returned a glower.
“Did you forget the mail train came today?” Olive balled her hands on her.
Lilly’s mouth dropped open, not only at Olive’s loaded accusation, but also at the knowledge that she did, indeed, forget about the train and for the briefest of moments, Reggie.
“What is wrong with you?” Olive’s screeching voice summoned their mother to the kitchen. “You’re stumbling around the
house like a drunkard, not paying attention to anyone! Why, yesterday, Alice Larsen came by, and you didn’t even come out of your room to greet her.” Olive’s lip curled and she nearly snarled. “What sort of daughter-in-law are you?”
“That’s enough, Olive,” her mother said sharply. “Please leave us.”
Olive shot an exasperated scowl at her mother, then stormed out of the room.
As Mrs. Clark sat on a straight-backed chair, Lilly dove into her bread dough and kneaded with vigor.
“You have been acting strangely, Lilly. I’d call it snippy, and that’s not you.” She paused and touched Lilly’s forearm. “Bonnie told me about the nightmares. Sit, child, and talk to me.”
Dread multiplied through her bones as Lilly met her mother’s gaze. But her eyes beheld a tenderness that reached out and enfolded her, and Lilly’s fear ebbed. She wiped her hands on her apron and drew up a chair, wondering what to reveal, opting for the truth.
“I taught that cowboy who saved Frankie how to read.”
The shock Lilly expected was strangely absent. The older woman folded her hands together on the table. “Hmm, so that’s what you were doing.”
“You knew?”
Her mother’s eyes twinkled. “I know a lot more than you think, Lilly. I watched you every night clean up, fix your hair, and change your dress. I knew it wasn’t for the prairie dogs. And, when you finally floated home, I knew something other than the sunset had touched your heart.”
“Why didn’t you stop me?”
Mrs. Clark studied her clasped hands. “Because I trust you. Obviously more than Olive does. And I know in your heart is a seed of goodness and wisdom.”
Lilly blew out a ragged breath. “Does Father know?”
Her mother shook her head. “He’s too worried about the wheat and the drought to be caught into the tangled mystery of his daughter’s heart.” She reached for Lilly’s hand. “Darling, this nightmare. Does it have to do with the cowboy?”
Lilly closed her eyes, seeing Heinrick’s heart-catching smile and his mesmerizing blue eyes. “Mother, do you pray?”