Touching Heaven

by Marie Higgins

  “Why does that make you happy?”

  “Well, you mentioned earlier how you lost your faith in God. Apparently, you still have a little faith left inside you.” She patted his chest.

  Quickly, he took her hand and held it to his heart. “Don’t be getting too excited. I’m still angry at God for ending Matthew’s life so suddenly.”

  She frowned. “Why? Don’t you believe that everyone has a place and time on this earth? It even says so in the Bible.”

  Frustrated anger rose inside him, making his forehead pound. “You don’t understand, Cecilia. Matthew was a good person. He went to church every Sunday, prayed, and wanted to raise a religious family. So why would God do that to Matthew?”

  Cecilia’s eyebrow arched. “You don’t think I understand?” Chuckling softly, she shook her head. “Peter, my parents died a few years ago in a carriage accident. They were happily married, upstanding Christians in the community, and taught me and my brother about God and His love. Out of everyone for God to take back to Heaven, it shouldn’t have been my parents. Their children needed them desperately. They had spoiled their children and we didn’t know how to take care of ourselves without them. Since their death, the plantation has been slowly dwindling down to nothing. As you know, we don’t have many servants, and the few men who still work there need help to run the fields.”

  Peter pulled her closer, clutching her shoulders. “Then you should feel as much anger as I do for this injustice.”

  “Believe me, Peter, I did have those feelings right after my parents’ death. I questioned God as to why He took those two beautiful and loving people from their children. But I had no other choice but to trust Him. God was the One in charge and I had to have faith He would lead me down what path I needed to take. And do you know what?”

  He shook his head.

  “God knew what he was doing. My parents’ time on earth was over, and God needed them in Heaven. Yet, blessings poured upon me in abundance. I had to learn quickly to become more responsible and to think of others beside myself. I’m still waiting for Hank to grow up, but I know in God’s time, Hank will.” She moved closer to Peter and slid her hands up his chest, slowly. “I’m sure God has many blessings for you, too. You just have to wait for them...and have faith they’ll come. God hasn’t forgotten about you, and he certainly hasn’t punished you in any way. However,” she swallowed hard, “I believe you have punished yourself enough with your drinking and gambling. Wickedness never was happiness, and what you have been doing to yourself is definitely wicked because it keeps you away from the Almighty—the only One who can help and comfort you in times of trial.”

  Peter couldn’t tear his eyes away from the beautiful woman in his arms who voiced her opinion so strongly...so assuredly, that it made him want to believe her words. Doubt crept in the back of his mind, and soon he questioned his own rash decisions. Why had he really pulled away from God? Was he really happier now as a gambler then he’d been working the cattle ranch with his brothers and Pa?

  “Peter, how can God help you if you don’t allow Him into your life?”

  “What makes you think I need Him in my life?”

  She arched a critical eyebrow. “Because you are gambling and drinking as if it’s the only important thing in the world. It’s not. Family is. Family will always be there for you through thick and thin. All drinking teaches you is to drown your sorrows in a bottle—or two—of whiskey instead of dealing with your problems like a real man. All gambling teaches is greed. The more you win, the more you want. Gamblers cannot think rational, either—especially if they’re drinking. Look at my brother, Hank. He gambled away most of our inheritance only because he wasn’t thinking straight and he was greedy.”

  Peter opened his mouth to argue—to let her know that there were good things about gambling. True, drinking until he lost consciousness was probably unhealthy, but gambling... Well, there must be something good about gambling. Wasn’t it because of his gambling that he was able to help Cecilia out with this harvest? Before he could voice his thoughts, more couples spilled out on the porch, interrupting Peter and Cecilia’s privacy. Cecilia quickly moved away from him and turned toward the others.

  “Oh, look. Just the people I wanted to talk to,” the middle-aged man said, coming nearer.

  “Good evening, Mr. Black.” Cecilia smiled. “You were looking for me?”

  “You, and your overseer, Mr. Grayson.” Mr. Black stopped right in front of them. “I’ve been trying to round up some help to fix my roof before the heavy rain season.” He focused directly on Peter. “I probably can’t pay as well as Miss Ashby, but I’ll pay you some. Money has been tight lately.”

  A sense of belonging built in Peter’s chest and he grinned. Finally, he felt like he was home. Of course—he glanced at Cecilia—she definitely had something to do with this new feeling. He met the other man’s stare. “Mr. Black, I would be more than happy to help you with the roof. And don’t worry about paying me. I understand how it is to be tight on money.”

  “Oh, Mr. Grayson,” Mr. Black said, clapping Peter on the shoulder, “you have a very big and giving heart. May God bless you for your kindness.”

  Peter smiled wide as his heart grew larger.

  “I have a few men coming to help me tomorrow morning. If I can find a few more, we’ll have enough to fix the roof within a day’s time.”

  “Mr. Black,” Cecilia cut in. “Would it help if I sent over my servants?”

  The other man clasped Cecilia’s hands in gratitude. “Would you do that, Miss Ashby? Your servants are very dependable and quite strong.”

  “Of course I’d do that. I will even come over and help your wife, and I’ll bring Anna-Mae with me. She’s a wonderful cook.”

  Mr. Black’s face beamed. “You are so generous. Thank you, Miss Ashby. May God bless you as well. I shall see you two bright and early tomorrow morning, then.”

  “Yes, you shall.” Peter winked and shook Mr. Black’s hand.

  As the others walked away, Cecilia turned to Peter and smiled. Her eyes were softer...dreamier than before.

  “What a kind heart you have, Peter. Thank you for volunteering to help.”

  Peter shrugged. “It’s what neighbors do, right?”

  “Yes, it is. It’s also showing Christ-like love.” She squeezed his hands. “Remember that, will you?”

  She didn’t give him a chance to reply because she turned and sauntered back into the ball. But then Peter really didn’t have anything to say. However, he had a lot to think about.

  THE NEXT DAY PASSED in a dream-like state for Cecilia. True, she enjoyed her visit with Mrs. Black, but it was more than that. It was seeing her servants giving other people their time and talents. It was especially nice to watch Peter. When she’d first met him, she could tell he was a little bit selfish. Of course, being a gambler didn’t help this particular fault, either. But other the weeks since he’d been working at her plantation, she saw him slowly growing and becoming a different person.

  Her heart melted. How could it not? Especially when lately Peter had been thinking of others first.

  When she went to bed that night she was tired, just as her servants were. There weren’t many times she could talk with Peter alone, but that was probably a blessing. Her happy heart and the warmth in her chest would have probably ended her in Peter’s arms locked in a lover’s embrace.

  The next morning her feelings were still at the surface. With a smile she couldn’t get rid of, Cecilia worked in the garden the next day beside Anna-Mae. The older woman whistled a lively tune, and Cecilia hummed along with her. Although her gloved hands and fingers moved in the motion of pulling weeds, her mind drifted to Peter.

  Heaven help her, she loved him. She loved him despite his gambling habits and that he wanted her brother put behind bars. She loved the kind man with the giving heart she’d come to know. That man would listen and understand about her brother, wouldn’t he?

  All morning she and her se
rvants worked outside, even if the wind blew most ferocious today. Most of the time she spent gazing in Peter’s direction as he helped the other servants prepare the fields for burning. Usually, Peter had his head turned toward her, which made her heart skip a beat. A few times he’d walked past her and winked. His smile softened her heart, making her want to throw herself in his arms and stay that way forever.

  Anna-Mae’s chuckling brought Cecilia from her inner thoughts, and she glanced at the other woman. She stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head as she looked at Cecilia. The rushing wind ruffled the woman’s hair, making it go in different directions.

  “Chile, Ah’ve never seen ya so cow-eyed before.” Her laughter grew. “If’n ya love the man so much, why don’t you jus’ tell him?”

  Cecilia gasped, and her dirt-crusted glove flew to her throat. “Anna-Mae, how dare you—”

  “Miz Celia.” She waved her hand through the air. “Everyone here can tell ya love him.”

  She hitched a breath. “Everyone?”

  “Yas’m. It’s only obvious, ’specially to those of us who love and care about ya.”

  Within seconds, her shoulders relaxed and her mouth tugged into a grin. “What am I to do, Anna-Mae? I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never known such a giddy yet confusing emotion in my life.”

  The older woman threw back her head and laughed. The volume of her voice overrode the fierce wind whipping around them.

  Cecilia smiled fully. “You are just awful. Do you know that?”

  Anna-Mae shrugged. “Ah can’t help but tease. Yer like a daughter to me.”

  Stepping with great caution over the rows of vegetables, Cecilia made her way to her servant. When she reached her, she threw her arms around the other woman’s wide shoulders and squeezed.

  “I love you, Anna-Mae.”

  The older woman pulled away and grinned. “Ah’m not the only person ya love, so why don’t ya tell him, too?”

  Cecilia glanced toward the fields. Even from this distance, his muscular frame drew her attention. His singing voice rang above the fierce wind, and she smiled. “I’ll tell him when the time is right.”

  Anna-Mae grasped her hands. “How ‘bout tonight? I’ll fix a nice dinner for two, and y’all can dine alone.”

  Cecilia looked back into her servant’s big brown eyes. “Trying to set the mood, huh?”

  “Don’t ya know the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

  Cecilia couldn’t stop the laugh springing from her throat. She hugged the older woman one more time before pulling away. A strong wind hit her, and she stumbled backward. Shielding her hand over her face, she glanced up to the sky. Big gray clouds had grouped together and thickened by the second. The temperature in the air changed within seconds, cooling her skin.

  Her heart sank.

  Hurricane weather.

  She hated this time of year with a passion. Yet, there had really only been a couple of bad years when hurricanes had destroyed her fields and threatened to damage her home.

  Another gust of wind blew against her. Wind chimes from the front porch clanged together much too loud. She glanced at Anna-Mae. The older woman’s attention focused on the sky, as well.

  “What do you think?” Cecilia asked, almost in a shout to be overheard above the wind.

  “Ah’m thinkin’ we’re in for a big storm.”

  “Me, too.” Inwardly, she groaned. “Gather the others so we can board the windows.”

  “Yessum.”

  Anna-Mae clutched her skirt and hurried toward the field. The men stopped and faced their direction. Apparently, they knew hurricane weather just as well as she did.

  Leaving the shovel and rake in the garden, Cecilia ran toward the house. By the looks of the thick clouds, the storm would be here within hours. That didn’t give them much time to prepare.

  She scurried around the house, closing the shutters and locking the windows. She even collected the lanterns to keep in one spot. By the time she rushed downstairs, everyone had gathered. Peter seemed to have taken charge and paired everyone off to board a window. After picking up a couple pieces of wood, she moved to the window where he worked to assist.

  When he met her gaze, the worried lines in his face softened, and his eyes twinkled.

  “I thought you might like some help.” She returned a smile.

  “Thank you, darlin’.”

  After that exchange, they worked silently side by side, moving from one window to another until they were all boarded. Anna-Mae had fixed some sandwiches, and they ate while continuing to prepare the house for the storm.

  Outside, the wind howled and shook the windows. A couple times, it rattled so hard, she swung her attention to the window and held her breath, inwardly praying there’d be no damage done. She couldn’t afford it right now.

  Clouds darkened the afternoon sky, and she lit the lanterns. Everyone gathered in the parlor, all sitting around the fireplace on the floor. Peter sat behind her, offering his body as support for her to lean against. The warmth from his body overrode the heat from the fire, and it was more pleasing, more exciting, and definitely more relaxing. Thankfully, the others were around or she’d have forgone propriety and snuggled against him in an indecent manner.

  After they talked about the old days when her ma and pa were alive, the room grew silent. Only the popping of the burning wood and the wail of the wind outside could be heard. She’d kept her back straight so as not to go with her urges and lean against Peter, but as the pendulum of the grandfather clock ticked and time passed, her shoulders sagged and the stiffness had left her body.

  Behind her, Peter’s hand touched the small of her back as it began to stroke up her spine. Shivers of delight ran amuck over her, and she bit her lip to keep from sighing aloud. His warm breath fanned her neck, sending another multitude of quivers through her.

  A soft hum came from him, growing louder by the second. When the others recognized the tune, they too began humming until Anna-Mae voiced the lyrics. Cecilia closed her eyes, content to hear nothing but his deep baritone tone. He sang beautifully, and if she had her way, he’d be singing to her for the rest of her life.

  She had no idea how it had happened, but within minutes, she found herself leaning against Peter, his arm around her waist holding her to him. Keeping her eyes closed, she caressed his strong arms then rested her hands over his. He opened them for her to entwine her fingers with his. Although the storm grew worse outside, peace settled in her chest, and she smiled.

  Without a doubt, she loved this man.

  A resounding crash startled her. Everyone in the room jumped to their feet.

  She gasped. “What was that?”

  “Sounded like part of the roof tore off,” Samuel said.

  Peter shook his head. “But not part of the roof from this house.”

  Cecilia’s heart hammered in panic. “What do you mean?”

  “It almost sounded like something was thrown against the house...like a piece from a cottage.”

  She groaned and buried her head in her hands. Where would she find the money to fix this?

  Another loud bang hit the house again, and she jumped, this time moving toward Peter. He opened his arms for her, and she pressed against his chest.

  “I think we should get to the lowest point in the house,” he said.

  She looked up at him and nodded. She broke up the wood in the fireplace while Anna-Mae poured water over it to saturate it.

  Peter took her hand in his and led the way. Keeping her beside him, he took the group downstairs. Everyone carried a lantern. On their way, Anna-Mae grabbed blankets as she passed the closet. Once they reached the safer destination, they found a place on the floor and sat, bundling the blankets around them.

  After Cecilia had a little warmth surrounding her body, another form of heat merged with her when Peter wrapped her in his arms once again. She looked from person to person, wondering what they thought about their mistress and another
servant being so open with their affections, but none held an expression that showed any surprise. Apparently, they’d known all along just as Anna-Mae had.

  Even with the lamps, the lighting didn’t seem effective. The room grew darker, more eerie. If not for the comfort Peter offered, she’d be a nervous woman right now.

  The storm seemed louder for some reason. The fierce rattling made the house sound as if it were being torn apart. As the rain pounded on the roof, memories flooded her mind—a time she’d chosen to forget.

  She cleared her throat. “This reminds me of the year we moved to Belle Grove.” When all eyes turned her way, she continued. “I was a young girl of fifteen, but I remember that year vividly. There was a storm such as this, and we boarded up the windows and doors and hid down here. Pa tried to keep me and my brother entertained during the downpour, but the house shook so much it frightened me nearly to death.”

  Peter’s arms tightened around her, and she continued. “Many homes were ruined by the storm that year. Belle Grove had minimal damage, but the barn and the sheds...”

  She gasped and straightened. “Oh, no—” She glanced at Peter. “The horses. The sheds. The new tools...”

  “Shhh.” He placed his fingers on her mouth and grinned. “The doors to the barn and shed are boarded, also.”

  She narrowed her gaze on him and pulled away from his tender touch. “When did you do that?”

  He chuckled. “What do you think the boys and I have been doing most of the morning?”

  Around her, the others chuckled. Heat rose to her face, and she could have slapped Peter. Apparently, she’d been off in her thoughts and not noticed.

  “So the horses are all right?”

  He nodded and grasped her hands. “Unless the storm becomes worse, I don’t think our horses are going to fly away.”

  She scowled. “Don’t worry me so. I couldn’t stand for that to happen.”

  The smile remained on his face as he stared at her. Then he dropped his focus to her mouth. Her heart beat in a fierce rhythm. As much as she wanted him to kiss her, it wouldn’t be proper in front of the others.