by Cathy Marie Hake, Lynn A. Coleman, Mary Davis, Susan Page Davis
Edward had spent the weekend visiting with his family. His sister, Anne, and her family had driven up from Saco in their farm wagon and spent a night at the Hunter house. Edward had made the acquaintance of his two-year-old nephew and Anne’s new daughter, a babe of three months. On Sunday they had all taken dinner with Aunt Ruth and Uncle Felix Price. Jacob had excused himself shortly after the meal, and Edward had no doubt he headed to Dr. Bowman’s residence. Perhaps it was time to speak openly about Abigail.
Edward didn’t want to avoid his cousin. They worked at the same business, and he couldn’t see any sense in not speaking to each other. So far they had kept any necessary communication brief. But Edward’s hopes of being welcomed into the Bowman family circle decreased with each day, and there was no sense in not acknowledging that.
He found his cousin at the chandlery, helping the man who managed the store for them. The chandlery specialized in ships’ supplies, and several of the warehouse laborers were carrying goods from the store out to the sloop.
“Jacob, could I speak to you?”
“Of course.” Jacob handed the list to the chandler and followed Edward outside. The wind whipped their coats and the rigging of the sloop that lay secured at the side of the wharf. Edward took Jacob around the corner and into the lee of the building, letting it shelter them.
“What is it?” Jacob asked.
Edward sighed and leaned on a piling, looking off toward the next wharf. A brig was docked, and men scrambled over her decks, laying in supplies by the look of things. “We need to find room for an office for you.”
“I’m getting along fine.”
“No, you’re not. I saw you bending over the apprentice clerk’s desk to work on an order yesterday. You need your own desk and space to lay out your work. I’ve displaced you.”
“Edward, there’s no need—”
“I say there is.” He turned to face Jacob. “You’re a 10 percent partner in this company, and a valued member here. You’re much better at some aspects of the business than I am. There’s no reason we can’t work together. We’ll partition off some space at the end of the front room. It won’t be as large as my office, but I daresay we can make you comfortable.”
Jacob pursed his lips for a moment, studying Edward’s face. “I won’t say no to that proposal.”
“Good. That’s one thing we agree on.”
“What do you mean by that?” Jacob leaned forward, frowning. “Ed, we’ve been friends since childhood, not to mention our blood ties. Can’t we be frank with one another?”
“Yes, of course.” Edward walked over to a stack of crates piled against the back wall of the store and sat down. Jacob hesitated a moment then joined him.
“You want honesty?” Edward asked. “All right, I’m getting tired of this game we’re playing with Abigail, and I expect you are, too.”
Jacob ran a finger around the inside of his collar, not meeting Edward’s gaze. “Well, cousin, you know she’s promised to give me her decision by Friday.”
“Yes, well, we both know what she’s going to say, don’t we?”
“Do we?” Jacob stared at him, an open challenge charging the air between them.
Edward jumped up and strode to the edge of the pier. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stood still for a moment, then exhaled deeply. “This is difficult for me, but I’ve got to face facts. She loves you. She no longer …”
He clamped his lips together and stared out at the waves troubling the harbor. “She no longer feels about me the way she did five years ago. That much is obvious to me.”
He heard Jacob’s footsteps and knew he had come to stand just behind him.
“Edward, I never … Please, you’ve got to know I didn’t intend to spoil anything for you.”
“I know, I know.” Edward swung around and forced a smile. The pain he had expected wasn’t in his heart. Instead, he felt chagrin. Jacob’s face bore a bulldoggish look that Edward had often seen Uncle Felix wear.
“I’ve seen it coming,” Edward said. “I just didn’t want to admit it. She loves you. And you’d better love her as much or more, because if I find out you don’t …”
Jacob’s lips drew back, and his brows lowered in a good-natured wince. He extended his hand, and Edward shook it.
“I love her,” Jacob assured him. “I would do anything for her. You know I love sailing, but I shall never sail again unless it’s a short hop up the coast on business. No more voyaging for me.”
“That seems extreme.”
“It’s not. I’ll never do to her what you did. Oh, I’m not blaming you for getting shipwrecked—it could as easily have been me on that island. But knowing Abigail as I do now, I can see that the mere prospect of me not returning from a voyage would kill her. I’m staying ashore for the rest of my life, Ed. For her sake.”
“Does she know that?”
“Yes.”
Edward drew in a deep breath. Dear Lord, should I just give up altogether? If I promised to stay on land, would she change her mind? Should I even attempt to find out? God, give me wisdom.
He walked once more to the edge of the wharf and leaned on the piling.
“I think Deborah is getting tired of it, too. Last night she made no secret she despises chaperoning her sister.”
Jacob laughed. “Yes, she made her father supervise Abby and me on Sunday. But if Abby affirms that I’m her choice, I should get more private time with her soon.”
Edward nodded and managed a feeble smile. His disappointment ached in his heart with a dull, constant throb. So be it, Father in heaven. Give me Your peace, and bless their union.
“I’ve made up my mind,” Abigail announced at breakfast Thursday morning.
Deborah’s stomach twisted, and she laid down her fork.
“About time,” her father said, not looking up from his copy of the Eastern Herald.
Mother was more sympathetic. “And which young man can we anticipate becoming our son-in-law?”
“Jacob, of course,” Deborah muttered.
“You needn’t scowl at me.” Abigail broke a small piece of crust off her toast and tossed the morsel across the table, hitting Deborah’s shoulder.
“Abby!” their mother scolded.
Abigail turned back to her mother. “Deborah thinks she knows what is best for me, but this is something I must decide for myself.”
Deborah felt the accusation was somewhat unjust. It was true she had hoped her sister would choose Edward, but she had never tried to persuade Abigail to do so.
“I haven’t attempted to influence your decision.”
“Haven’t you? You’re always telling me how fine and upstanding Edward is.”
“I just think you need to consider all aspects of the two gentlemen’s characters.”
“I have,” Abigail said. “And I have made up my mind. Both are admirable, but Jacob is more … civilized.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Here, now,” their father interrupted. “You sound like a gaggle of geese fighting over a handful of corn, not two genteel ladies.”
Deborah sank lower in her chair. It wasn’t easy to disturb her father’s placid nature. Abigail’s turmoil must have bothered him these past few days, no matter how calm he appeared.
“And when will you tell the favored gentleman?” their mother asked, smiling. Deborah imagined that in her mind she had already resumed the wedding plans interrupted so rudely a week ago.
“This evening. And I’ve asked Edward to come by this afternoon if he can get away from the office long enough.” Abigail glanced at Deborah. “I thought I should give him a private audience before my renewed betrothal to Jacob becomes public.”
It was less than Deborah had hoped for, but more than she’d feared.
“Do treat him gently. He’s loved you for such a long time, Abby.” Annoyed with her own tender emotions, Deborah blinked rapidly and succeeded in keeping back tears.
“I shall. Of course, you understa
nd that when I say ‘private,’ I mean that you shall be present as a chaperone.”
“Never.”
“What?” Abigail’s rosebud mouth hung open.
Before her sister could wail to their mother for support, Deborah said, “I’ve sat by and listened to both these poor men lay their hearts at your feet. I do not wish to be present when you dash Edward’s hopes.”
“But—”
“Surely you can do this one thing on your own.”
Abigail frowned. “Perhaps Father will tell him for me. I could send him around to your surgery, Father.”
The newspaper shivered, and a deep, foreboding voice came from behind it. “I shall do no such thing.”
Abigail looked to the other end of the table.
“Nor I,” said her mother.
Tears streamed down Abigail’s cheeks. “You all think I’m horrid, don’t you?”
“No.” Her mother rose and began to stack the dishes. “Jacob is a splendid young man, and we shall be proud to have him in the family. But you must do your own work with Edward, Abby. Don’t send him away thinking you are a coward.”
Abigail inhaled and looked at Deborah.
Deborah tried not to return her gaze, but the sound of Abby’s shaky breath pierced her armor.
“Please?” Abigail whispered.
Deborah threw down her napkin.
“All right, but this is the last time. I mean the last. Don’t come looking for me tonight. I intend to be far away when Jacob reaps the reward of his persistence.”
“Thank you, dear sister.”
Deborah stamped her foot. “Abby, you aggravate me so. If I ever ask you to chaperone me, please remind me of this moment and say no.”
“In order for that to happen, you must stop ignoring all the young men who hover around you after church every Sunday.” Abigail’s watery smile was as exasperating as her comment.
As Deborah stomped from the room, she glanced at her father, not trying to suppress the resentment she felt. Hiding behind that newspaper! He ought to have interfered. Sometimes she thought he used his medical practice as an excuse to avoid the feminine intrigues that seethed at home.
She was startled when his complacent voice came once more. “Perhaps she will do that when she finds one who matches the young man she’s been defending so passionately.”
Deborah stopped even with his chair and stared at him.
As he folded his newspaper precisely, his eyes turned her way, and he threw her a conspiratorial wink.
Chapter 7
For once, Abigail was waiting in the parlor before her guest arrived. She sat on the sofa, twisting her handkerchief.
Deborah stood at the window, watching for Edward. The sooner this was over with, the better.
“Do you hate me?”
Deborah sighed and let the sheer curtain fall back into place. “No. But I shall be disgusted with you if you’re not frank and to the point with him.”
“I’ll try.”
“Oh, Abby, pretend you are Father doing surgery. This is a necessary procedure. Make it clean and quick, will you?” She plopped down on one of the velvet-covered side chairs.
“Do you think he knows why I’ve invited him here?”
“Of course.”
Abigail’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Oh dear.”
Deborah threw her hands up in resignation. “You love Jacob. That settles it. It would be wrong for you to accept Edward now. You can’t marry a man you don’t love.”
“Well, yes.” Abigail wiped an errant tear from her cheek. “So … you think it’s all right?”
Deborah was glad her sister could not see the chaos in her heart at that moment. “I know you’ve thrashed this out with God.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Are you at peace with your decision?”
“I am.”
Deborah moved to the sofa and slipped her arm around Abigail’s shoulders. “Then this is right. Thank God, and carry it through.”
Abigail squeezed her in a suffocating embrace. “I love you, Debbie.”
“I know.”
They leaped apart as the thud of the knocker echoed through the house.
“Oh, he’s here.” Abigail dabbed at her face with the wilted handkerchief.
“Calm down,” Deborah advised. “Deep breaths. Elizabeth is getting the door.”
A moment later, Edward stood in the doorway. He nodded to Deborah with a slight smile, then centered his attention on Abigail.
“Thank you for inviting me,” he murmured as he advanced.
Abigail shoved her handkerchief up her sleeve and extended her hand to him.
“It was kind of you to come, Edward. Please, sit down.”
She resumed her place on the sofa, and Deborah tiptoed to the window, where she sat down on the cushioned window seat.
She couldn’t watch, and she wished she could plug her ears and not hear without being outrageously rude.
Abigail cleared her throat. One quick glance showed Deborah that Edward had sat down beside Abigail on the sofa but was keeping his distance.
He still has hope, Deborah thought. This will crush him. And how will he feel toward Jacob now? They’ve been inseparable since boyhood. Will this drive them apart forever?
She considered her closeness to Abigail. The events of the last week had tested their loyalty, but Deborah knew she would always love her sister. She hoped Edward and Jacob’s bond was firm enough to take them through this and bring them out still friends on the other side.
“Edward, I …” Abigail cleared her throat.
Deborah stared out the window at the sunlit garden. How she wished she were the little phoebe perched on the syringa bush, chirping in blissful unawareness. “Edward, I am ready to give you my decision.”
Abigail’s voice had an icy touch, and Deborah winced. She knew her sister found her task excruciating and had retreated into coldness to make it easier. Tears were no doubt lurking, and she wanted to complete the interview without breaking down.
“I’m ready.” Edward’s voice was as stony as hers, and Deborah’s heart ached for him.
“I …”
The pause was too long, and Deborah gritted her teeth, eyes closed. Tell him! Just tell him.
After another long moment of silence, Edward’s voice came, quiet and gentle now.
“Perhaps I can help you, my dear. You wish to say that you’ve decided to marry my cousin.”
Abigail sighed and whispered, “Yes.”
“And you … regret any pain you have caused me.”
“Very much.”
“But you feel this is the only true and honest thing you can do.”
“Stop being so … so good!”
“How would you have me be?”
Something like a hiccup came from Abigail, and Deborah couldn’t resist turning her head ever so slightly and peeking.
Edward was drawing her sister into his arms, but it was not an embrace of passion. Abigail laid her head on his strong shoulder and let her tears flow.
“It will be all right, you know,” he said.
“I hope so.”
“It will, dear. If God had wanted us together, He wouldn’t have kept me away so long.”
“Really?”
“Really. I think I saw that when I first came home. I simply didn’t want to admit it. But there’s no denying it. You love Jacob, and you were meant to be his wife.”
He stroked Abigail’s hair and leaned back against the sofa with a sigh.
More than ever, Deborah wished she were not in the room. Yet she was glad in a perverse way that she was allowed to see the true mettle Edward was made of. His heart was breaking, yet he was comforting the one who’d delivered the blow.
She turned back to the window view. The phoebe was gone, but a chipmunk was scurrying about the garden. She felt a tear slide down her cheek and brushed it away with her sleeve.
“So … you aren’t angry with me?” Abigail asked.
>
“All is forgiven,” he said.
“And Jacob?”
“There’s no bitterness between us, nor will there be.”
“Thank you, Edward.”
The sofa creaked, and their clothing rustled. Deborah turned to see that both had risen.
“Would you please excuse me?” Abigail asked.
“Of course, my dear.”
Edward bowed over her hand, then watched her leave the room.
Deborah wondered if he remembered she was there. Should she jump up and offer to fetch his hat? What was the etiquette for ushering out rejected suitors?
He turned slowly, and his thoughtful gaze rested on her in the window seat.
“It seems your duties are ended.”
“Oh, yes.” She hopped up, her face flushing. “I’m sorry, Edward. It was not my choice to witness that.”
“I know.” His smile was a bit thin, but even so, it set her pulse tripping. “I believe her declaration was final.”
Deborah nodded. “I’m afraid so. She won’t change her mind.”
They stood for several seconds, looking at each other. At last, Deborah said softly, “My condolences.”
“Thank you. Perhaps you’ll be kind to me at the wedding, and we’ll laugh together about this. That way, maybe folks won’t gossip about my despair and desperation.”
“Is that what you’re feeling now?”
“One thing I learned in my long exile, Deborah, is that God alone controls my destiny.”
“So … perhaps even this is a part of His providential plan for you?”
“I must say yes to that, decidedly yes, or deny the faith I’ve gained. It is disheartening now, but I’m sure God can use this disappointment to prepare me for a different future, just as He used the shipwreck to prepare me for this.”
Deborah eyed him for a moment, gauging his mood. “Do you have to go back to the office right away?”
“No, I’ve nothing more exciting than a stack of ledgers to draw me.”
“Would you care for lemonade? I’d love to hear more about your experience—if I haven’t badgered you enough about it already.”
He smiled and nodded. “Lemonade sounds refreshing.”
The next hour flew as Deborah plied him with questions about the men who fled the shipwreck with him and about his life on the island. He brought her near weeping again, telling how they had drifted for days in the longboat. Three of the men in the longboat had died and one was lost overboard before they reached the island. He then changed his tone and recounted humorous incidents that he, Gideon, and John went through as they became accustomed to their island home.