by Peterson, Tracie; Davis, Mary; Hake, Kelly Eileen; Stengl, Jill; Warren, Susan May
But tiny sputters of doubt began to explode deep inside her heart.
“I saw Erica Torgesen in town today,” commented Reggie as they sat together on the porch steps, bundled and staring at the hazy sputter of the sun.
Lilly peered at him sideways.
“She asked if you had time to sew her something for the New Year’s social.” He gave her a stern eye, his mouth a firm line. “I took the liberty of telling her you wouldn’t be doing that sort of thing anymore.”
Lilly looked past him, north toward the Torgesen T, and said nothing.
Sunday, after church, Reggie closed in during the walk home. “Mother told me you haven’t been attending the Ladies Aid meetings.” His hand seemed rough on her arm. “I thought we agreed you would help with tea, Lilly.”
She shot him a frown. Did she agree to help? Or had Reggie and Mrs. Larsen consented for her?
Lilly beat back the flames of doubt, however, with prayer and a patient spirit. She was just nervous, as any bride would be. She clung to the faith that God had her future in His hands and would lead her to a lifetime of joy. God would give her peace as she walked forward in faith. She just had to be patient.
Snow peeled from the clouds in soft translucent layers and melted on the hard-packed road. Lilly meandered toward Mobridge, her hands tucked in a beaver skin muff, occasionally catching a few flakes on her tongue and nose. The sun was a glittering pumpkin, brilliant against a silver gray sky and frosting the bluffs orange.
Lilly sighed and picked up her pace. She was already late, expected by Mrs. Larsen and the others on the Ladies Aid committee to help decorate the church. Her family would join her in an hour or so, Olive and her mother each toting the Clark family’s contribution to the Thanksgiving pie social—pumpkin and apple pies.
Next year she would be appearing with Mrs. Larsen, toting her own pie, as Reggie’s wife. Reggie had already prepared a room for them at the Larsen home while he readied himself to take on a congregation of his own. He mentioned a year of preparation while he worked with his father and learned the “trade.” Lilly had considered, with the anger that bubbled out occasionally when he mentioned Chuck, Harley, the Germans, or anything that had to do with the Great War, it might take him longer to find the peace to minister to others. But she’d clamped her mouth shut after he told her it was none of her business and asked how she could possibly understand his nightmares. So, she determined to find a way to live in the Larsen household until she could create one of her own.
Mrs. Larsen was thrilled to have another helping hand around the house and told her so.
The town was barren; the shops closed, customary on the day before Thanksgiving. Lilly heard the train whistle skip along the frozen prairie in the distance and recalled the days when she would race the wind to greet the mail train with a letter. It was a time of innocence and naive hopes, a lifetime apart from what she knew now—the reality, and cost, of love.
She rounded the armory and was passing Miller’s when she spotted him. She almost didn’t recognize the man, dressed in a pair of forest green woolen pants and a knee-length matching wool coat—standard issue brakeman’s uniform for the Milwaukee Road. He could have been any other railroad man, toting a lead lantern, headed for work. But he wasn’t. She knew him the minute her gaze traveled upward and took in the long blond hair trickling out in curls from his wool railroad cap.
“Heinrick,” she breathed into the wind. He whirled and saw her.
He paused, as if determining the distance between them, in so many ways, then turned and strode toward her. As he drew closer, she reached out her hand. He caught it in his and purposefully led her to the small alley between Bud’s and the armory, where they had nearly kissed and been discovered. Where her heart had entwined hopelessly and forever with his.
Heinrick set down his lantern and glanced into the empty street. He released her hand, gripped her upper arms, and pinned his eyes to hers. “Lilly.”
Lilly’s breath caught. She heard in his raw tone and saw in his eyes what she hoped for—a longing for her, a missing so intense it was etched into his heart.
“Are you all right?” she whispered.
He cracked a crooked grin, and Lilly’s heart thumped.
“I’m all right.”
Three words, and yet with them, fear broke free and relief crested over her. Her voice shook. “I’ve been so worried, Heinrick. Clive said he was going to hurt you, teach you a lesson.”
Heinrick closed his eyes and nodded. “Well, he tried, that’s for sure.” Then he opened his eyes and they twinkled with a familiar mischief. “But those boys never fought a man who worked shoveling sand ten hours a day. Besides, Erica Torgesen doesn’t like roughhousing, and she put it to Clive to either let me go or leave me be.”
Lilly squinted at him, noting an unfamiliar scar above his left eye. She wondered what he wasn’t telling her. Lilly arched her brows. “So Clive let you go?”
“Ja. Did you get my note?”
Lilly nodded.
“I wrote it after I got my job on the line. I was passing through here and dropped it off.”
Heinrick looked away. “I have bad timing.”
Lilly frowned, then remembered the day she’d received his letter. The day Reggie came home.
“You saw Reggie.”
Heinrick’s mouth was pinched, and when he looked at her, hurt ringed his eyes. “I’m very happy for you, Lilly.”
Lilly’s eyes misted.
“I’m stationed in Sioux Falls now. I just stopped in today to pick up some gear I had in storage.” He nodded to a rucksack on his back.
He bent to grab his lantern, as if intending to say good-bye and walk out of her life forever.
“Heinrick, wait.” Lilly stepped toward him, not really knowing what she wanted to say, but realizing she had to say something, anything to keep him there long enough for her to know….
Heinrick paused and looked down at her, almost wincing. He reached for a rebellious strand of hair that had loosened from her bonnet and rubbed its softness between his fingers.
“Lilly, I can’t take you away from Reggie. You have to choose, on your own. You have to come to me freely. Because if you don’t, you’ll be exchanging one prison for another.”
He dropped her hair, ran his finger along her jaw, then lifted her chin. “More than that, you must do what God wants you to do.”
Lilly opened her mouth, and her thoughts spilled out. “But I don’t know what that is.”
Heinrick considered her a long moment. “Have you asked Him and really listened for the answer?”
Lilly gave him a blank look while her mind sifted through his question. He was right. She’d never seriously listened to God’s answer, never considered any reply but the one she already knew.
But it was too late to change course. Her wedding was two days away. She shook her head.
Heinrick’s jaw stiffened. “Then I can’t make your decision for you.” The train whistle screamed as it pulled into the station. “I have to go, Lilly. May God bless your marriage.” He turned away.
Lilly put a hand on his arm and folded her fingers into the wool. “I have to know, Heinrick.” Her tone betrayed her heart.
He frowned.
“Do you love me?”
His mouth curved wryly, and she thought she saw a flicker of sadness in his stormy blue eyes. He covered her hand with his own. “I’ve loved you since the day you saved me on the street.”
“I thought you said you didn’t need any help.”
His voice turned raw. “I needed help, Lilly. I needed, more than anything, for someone to walk beside me, to be my friend and encourage me to fight for a place in this country.” He touched her cheek. “God sent you to do that for me. And now, because of you, I have a future here.” His gaze lingered on her, and she felt the strength of his feelings sweep through her.
Then, he snatched the lantern and strode away. And, with each long step, Lilly knew he was taking with hi
m her heart.
Chapter 25
Lilly headed for the cloakroom and pulled off her coat. Mechanical. Steadfast. Resolute. She walked into the sanctuary and presented herself for service. Alice Larsen shot her a scowl. Lilly ignored it.
The pews in the small sanctuary were pushed back against the walls, creating a large square gap in the center. Two cloth-covered tables lined the center of the room, a throne for the pies.
Ernestine put her to work lighting candles. Lilly glanced out a window. Pellet-sized snowflakes fell from the darkening sky and covered the fields in a thick blanket. Families began to stream in, pies gathering on the two tables. Lilly smiled, nodded, and greeted.
Her mother and Olive arrived and added their pies to the table. Bonnie peeled layers of wraps off DJ and Frankie. Her father came in, a film of crystalline snow on his wool jacket. “We’re in for it, folks,” he commented wryly.
Reverand Larsen offered Mr. Clark his hand. “Nothing like the winter of 1910, though. It started snowing in June that year and didn’t let up ’til the following July!”
Lilly’s father guffawed and pumped the preacher’s arm.
Lilly slid up to the two men. “Excuse me, Reverend. Do you know where Reggie is?”
Reverand Larsen raised his eyebrows. “Lost track of him already, Lilly? And you aren’t even married yet!” He eyed her father, who smirked.
Lilly blushed. Reverand Larsen put a hand on her shoulder. “He rode out earlier with Clive Torgesen and some of the other boys, hunting pheasants. He’ll be here.”
The crowd thickened quickly. The Thanksgiving pie feast was akin to the fair in terms of pie competition. Everyone had a favorite. Lilly favored Jennifer Pratt’s vanilla crème. She surveyed the crowd but didn’t find either Marjorie or the Pratt family.
Reverand Larsen led them in a time of Thanks-sharing, then the pies were attacked. DJ and Frankie grabbed their favorites, a tart crabapple from the Ed Miller family and a fresh peach from Ernestine’s, which Willard admitted he’d made. Lilly accepted a bite of each, but wasn’t hungry for her own. Her thoughts were occupied with a still missing Reggie, and Heinrick.
The crowd began to scatter, the adults bundling up the children for the ride home.
“Coming with us, Lilly?” Her mother’s voice carried over the room as she tugged DJ’s cap over his ears.
Lilly shook her head. “No. I’ll wait for Reggie.”
Her father looked worried. “Don’t stay out too long, Lilly. That storm is whippin’ up.”
Lilly helped clear tables with the Ladies Aid, but avoided the women when they clumped in gossip. The wind outside began to moan, but it drew her to the church entrance. Perhaps a blast of cold air could untangle the knot in her heart. Pulling on her coat, she cracked the door open and slipped outside. The wind encircled her, groaning in her ears, and pawing at her coat. She stuck her hands in the pockets and wrapped it around her.
Instinctively, her hand closed around an object in the well of her pocket. She pulled it out and her heart tumbled. Heinrick’s butterfly comb. She turned over the exquisite gift, and the dull, throbbing wound in her heart ripped open.
How had it landed in her pocket? She shifted through memory and found the day when she’d pulled it from her drawer and tried it on. The ginger-colored wings illuminated the few gold threads in her hair, and Lilly had left it in as she read her Bible that morning. She’d lost herself in the Beatitudes and completely forgotten the butterfly comb until she made ready to run into town with Bonnie for supplies. The comb had tangled in her wool bonnet. She’d pulled it off and slipped it into her coat pocket.
Tears welled in her eyes. Heinrick had given her a gift of his heritage. To complement her gift to him—his future.
“What are you doing out here, Lillian?” Mrs. Larsen’s crisp tone scattered Lilly’s thoughts. Mrs. Larsen yanked Lilly inside and shut the door behind her. “What’s the matter with you, are you trying to make yourself sick?” The older woman pushed her toward the sanctuary.
Lilly bit the inside of her mouth and tried in vain to conceal her tears. But they spilled out. Mrs. Larsen looked at her, her brow puckered. “Reggie will be fine, dear.”
Lilly watched her pinched, soon-to-be mother-in-law join a group of cackling women and suddenly knew only one thing: She couldn’t marry Reggie. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life living a halfhearted love. She whirled and made for the door.
The door shuddered open just as she laid a hand on the latch. Reggie caught her as she stumbled forward.
“Where’re you goin’?”
Her breath left her, and words locked in her mouth.
“You weren’t going to wait for me?” Reggie’s dark brows folded together. “What’s this?” He snatched the comb from her hand. Turning it over, he examined it. His face darkened. “Where did you get this?”
Lilly balled her hands in her coat pockets. He looked at her, read her face. Then gave a sharp intake of breath, as if he’d been stabbed. He stared at her, shaking. “So it’s true, then.”
Her eyes widened.
“I know all about it, Lilly.” His face tightened into a glare. “I know all about how you disgraced me, how you kissed another man, a German.”
She saw the hate pulsing in his eyes, and her mouth went dry. She shuffled back into the church foyer. Help me, Lord.
“No, Reggie. You don’t understand—”
Reggie hurled the comb out into the darkness. Then he stepped inside and pulled the door shut. The world seemed suddenly, intensely, still.
Lilly’s pulse roared in her ears.
Reggie sucked a deep breath. He spoke quietly, through clenched teeth. “I can’t believe you betrayed me with a German! If you were going to be unfaithful, couldn’t you have chosen an American?”
Lilly’s knees shook. “I’m sorry, Reggie.”
Reggie must have detected her fear, for his glower softened, leaving only cool, stony eyes. He backed Lilly into the wall, put a hand over her shoulder, and leaned close. She felt his hot breath on her face and couldn’t move. He seemed to be making an effort to keep his voice calm. “Listen, Lilly, I’m willing to marry you anyway. Because you’re mine and all I’ve ever wanted.”
She fixed her eyes at the snow melting on his shoes, not wanting to speak the truth. But she owed him honesty. She’d never sent the letter she’d written explaining everything, so he didn’t know. Didn’t know the painful news about Heinrick, yes, but he also didn’t know about the joy and life she’d found. He didn’t know that God could change the plans, and everything could still turn out all right, even better, for both of them.
She summoned her courage. “But I don’t know if that’s what God wants,” she said softly.
He took it like a blow and recoiled. “What?”
“I don’t know if I am supposed to marry you, Reggie. I don’t know if that is what God wants. I, we’ve, never really asked Him.”
Reggie frowned at her. “Of course not! We don’t have to ask God whom we’re to marry. We just decide what we want, and if we do it right, He blesses us. God doesn’t care whom we marry. He just wants us to go to church, to obey His commandments, to do what is right.”
“I think He does care. I think He cares so much that if we don’t ask Him, it’s a sin.”
Reggie blew out an exasperated breath. “Lilly, what do you know? I’m the one who is going to be a pastor.” He looked at her steadily. “I want you. That’s enough for me. Even though you betrayed me. Doesn’t that prove my love for you?”
Confusion rocked her. Reggie’s love felt constricting, suffocating—so different from Heinrick’s.
“I don’t need God’s blessing to marry you.”
Lilly raised wide eyes, thunderstruck. Embedded in Reggie’s words, she discovered what was missing from their future, their plans, and her heart. She realized why her soul had never been, could never be, at peace about her marriage to Reggie. She didn’t feel God’s blessing.
“I…I can
’t marry you right now,” Lilly stated in a faltering voice. “I have to wait on God. I have to know what He wants. Because I know He loves me, I want His plans for my life.”
Reggie pounded his chest and stared at her, desperation punctuating his voice. “I’m His plan for your life!” He raked a hand through his snow-crusted hair. “Maybe Mother was right. I should have picked Marjorie.” His expression darkened. “At least she would have been faithful.”
Lilly felt a cold fist squeeze her heart.
Reggie’s voice turned wretched. “But I chose you. You were the one I wanted. I’ve been planning this for years.” He punched the wall behind her. Lilly trembled. “It isn’t fair, Lilly. I’ve been through hell itself, and I return to find that someone’s stolen my girl?”
Reggie’s voice curdled in pain. Lilly closed her eyes and felt ill. He was right. This wasn’t what he deserved. But they couldn’t base their marriage, the rest of their lives, on pity.
“It wasn’t like that,” Lilly said evenly. She opened her eyes. “Heinrick didn’t steal me. But you’re right. It isn’t fair. Not to you—or me!” She thumped her own chest. “I found something, Reggie. I found God. I found freedom and joy.” Her voice slowed. “And maybe that’s how God wanted it. Maybe He wanted to give us some distance so we could see He had something better for us. That’s how it’s supposed to be, I think. His will and not ours, and that’s better, even when it doesn’t make sense.”
Reggie buried his head in his forearm. “This can’t be God’s will. God wouldn’t take you away from me. Don’t throw our lives, my life, away.”
He drew back and fixed her with a desperate intensity, as if, by his gaze, he could control her bizarre thinking. “Lilly, listen, you belong to me. You don’t have a choice.”
Lilly put a hand on her chest and pushed back an odd panic. “I do have a choice. You can’t force me to love you. If you make me marry you, it still doesn’t mean I’ll love you. Love can’t be forced or, for that matter, earned. It has to be a free gift. Like God’s love for us, and ours for Him.”