“Mrs. Vestal has offered for him to stay in her parents’ old cabin.”
“The one past the graveyard?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He has to stay somewhere.”
“Why not with us?” Bethany asked, knowing the answer. When Connor only shook his head, her frustration grew. “Father welcomed you into the house before he knew you. He let you stay in our home when you and Lydia were courting. Why not Justin?”
Connor rubbed the back of his neck. “First of all, Lydia lived here and your dad took me out of here the minute I recovered from my injuries. I lived in the house and I played by your father’s rules, which aren’t stupid by the way—they are the traditions this culture is built on. I respected Lydia and didn’t touch her until we were married. Justin isn’t interested in courting. He won’t restrain himself with you.”
“Well, he is interested in me and I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be.” Connor stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Whatever he said to make you feel special—it’s part of his game. You mean nothing to him as a person. He would say the same things to any woman.”
Bethany thought of how Justin praised her innocence and even said she was different from other women. Connor did not know what Justin had said; he could not understand. She shook her head. “I’ve been getting to know him and—”
Connor held up his hand. “Let me guess: he let you tell him all about yourself and it made you feel close to him. He gave you a few compliments and now you think he loves you. Am I close?”
Her mouth opened to answer, but the truth of Connor’s summation stung too much for her to think of a response. She heard Justin at the top of the stairs and closed her mouth.
Connor looked up the stairs at Justin and then back at her. “Go to bed.”
Humiliated, Bethany turned and walked up the stairs. She would obey and go upstairs, but she would not condemn Justin for not sharing their restrictive customs. As she passed Justin, she reached a hand out to touch his, but he passed without acknowledging her.
Chapter Eight
Everett brushed the hay fragments from his sleeves as he slipped into the pew behind two rows of village elders. Though he had their approval to train for his father’s position, Everett felt out of place, and it did not help that he was late to the meeting.
Levi was sitting at the opposite end of the otherwise empty pew, scowling, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The elders were discussing raising a new barn for a village family, but Everett doubted that was why Levi looked perturbed. He wondered if the issue of Justin Mercer had already been discussed and, if so, to what extent.
The afternoon sun had warmed the chapel, and sweat began to bead beneath Everett’s shirt. He loosened the button at his neck and moved down the bench beside Levi.
“Where is Connor?” Everett whispered.
“He took Mercer to the old Vestal cabin.” Levi angled his chin. “He wants to keep an eye on him for a while.”
“Good.” Everett kept his voice quiet. “Connor found Mercer and Bethany together last night after you went home.”
Levi snapped his head toward Everett. “Doing what?”
“They were sitting on the stairs talking, but apparently they grew fond of each other during the quarantine.”
Levi blew out a breath as he turned his face toward the front of the church. “I don’t like that.”
“Me neither,” Everett mumbled as the elders’ discussion about the barn raising ended. Then he leaned toward Levi. “Has anyone mentioned Mercer yet?” Levi shook his head once.
John glanced at his notes and began to address the elders. “Thanks to Connor’s diligence, we have contained the illness. The gray leaf medicine worked against the bacteria, so the disease is no longer a threat. The quarantine is over and Justin Mercer will be staying in the vacant cabin owned by Mrs. Vestal. Mr. Mercer is still not sure if he will attempt to leave the Land or not, but until he decides, he must work. I spoke with Justin this morning, and he understands we all eat because we all work. He has agreed to accept whatever employment is offered. Does anyone have—”
“I will give him work.” Everett stood as he declared his offer. The elders in the rows in front of him shifted in their seats and craned their necks to see him as he spoke for the first time in an official meeting.
“Very well.” John raised an eyebrow but gave no other indication of the unnerving developments regarding Mercer. He scribbled a note on his paper. “I will tell Justin to report to the Foster property first thing in the morning.”
Everett sat back down. He did not look directly at Levi, but he could tell Levi was looking at him.
“That was charitable of you,” Levi whispered.
“It wasn’t charity at all.”
“Are you going to let him live long enough to regret coming here?”
“Regret it? Yes. Let him live? That I can’t promise.”
John pointed his pencil at Everett. “Also, Everett, many of the villagers have asked if you plan to continue your father’s tradition of hosting the autumn party. Have you given that any thought?”
Everett stood again but this time with less vigor. “Yes. My mother will be organizing the party this year. Several of the village women are helping her. She has asked for extra time to prepare, so I decided we’ll have the party at the end of April.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Everett.”
Everett sat and leaned his back against the hard pew. He looked at the front of the chapel and studied the wooden cross that hung from the vault in the ceiling. John closed the meeting with prayer, and then the men filed out of the pews toward the tall chapel doors. Everett stayed in the pew and stared at the bare cross.
John stepped away from the podium and stopped in the aisle near Everett. “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
Everett glanced at the overseer. “My father used to say that phrase.”
“That is probably where I got it.” John lowered himself into the pew next to Everett. “I know you had to put in a full day of work by noon to get here today. I am pleased you came. Are James and Nicholas good workers?”
“They are.”
“And you will have more help starting tomorrow—that is, if your offer was sincere.”
Everett nodded. “It was sincere—self-serving, but sincere.”
“Ah. I wondered.” John leaned back and crossed his arms. He allowed a few moments of silence then drew a breath. “I remember when my father was no longer able to carry out his duties as overseer and it was time for me to take the position. I was trained and ready but terrified to accept my inheritance. Hannah and I had only been married a short while. I wanted to prove to her more than anyone that I could do it. I remember going home at the end of a particularly hard day and instead of showing her kindness, I lashed out at her about something trivial. She saw right through me.” John gave a short chuckle. “She told me to never try to hide my insecurities from her again because I was robbing her of the opportunity to love me through a difficult time.”
Everett took his eyes off the cross. “I’m sorry, but I fail to see your point.”
“Whom do you most want to prove yourself to?”
“My father. I know it doesn’t make sense—he is dead.”
“Of course it does—he gave you a fine example and a weighty inheritance.”
As much work as Everett had to do, it was not the farm that burdened him or even the fact that he had his father’s reputation to live up to. He stretched his collar away from his sweaty neck. “I’m twenty years old and I’m running the largest farm in the village and declaring my decisions among the elders. I want to be a man my father would be proud of. He told me to hire men and treat them fairly. He told me to take care of my mother and sister.”
“These are all things you have been helping him with since you were young. You know how to run the farm and take care of family.”
Evere
tt shook his head, recalling his father’s dying wishes. “He also told me he wanted me to marry Bethany.”
“Is that his wish or yours?”
“Both. It was his wish because he knew it’s my greatest longing. Now she’s intrigued with another man—this outsider—and though I know he will not marry her, I fear he will sully her.”
John shifted in the pew. “Bethany may be naïve, but she is morally grounded. I do not think it will come to that, but if you do, the question is: would you still love her?”
Everett did not want to imagine it let alone postulate his ability to forgive. His breath burned in his dry throat and he glanced at the cross as he waited for the words to come. “I would forgive her, but I’d rather protect her from it happening in the first place.” He swallowed hard and looked at John. “I miss my father a great deal and I cannot ask his advice, so I’ll ask you… what should I do?”
* * *
Bethany dumped the contents of her satchel onto her bed. Having spent the morning scrubbing the cottage, she was tired of cleaning and decided to put her things away later. She looked around her bedroom, grateful finally to be back in her own space. A wooden trunk in the corner of the room caught her eye. She focused on the flowers painted around its edges and the row of dolls arranged on its top as she stepped toward the heirloom box. The dolls had gone untouched for years, aside from Lydia’s occasional dusting rampage. Bethany could not recall the last time she opened the lid. She knelt on the floor and looked at each doll, trying to remember their names as she moved the toys to the floor. As she lifted the trunk’s lid, Lydia stepped into the room. “Did you miss your toys, little sister?”
Though Lydia smiled when she said it, Bethany thought the question held more jest than sentiment. She did not smile back. “I’m not a child anymore.”
Lydia sat on a half-size school chair that was pushed against the wall by the trunk. “That’s not what I meant.”
Bethany looked inside the trunk. It was full of play clothes, ribbons, toy teacups, and doll blankets—all the girl toys passed down from her three elder sisters. Levi always had his own toys; they were still in the trunk in his old room, which was now Andrew’s nursery. As a child Bethany had preferred Levi’s toys because they could be taken outside and played with in the dirt.
“I missed you,” Lydia said.
“I missed you, too.” Bethany pulled a painted conch shell from the bottom of the trunk. “Remember when I found this shell on the shore and brought it home? I wanted to paint it, but you and Adeline and Maggie all told me to leave it how it was.” Dried paint flaked onto Bethany’s fingers as she rubbed her hand across the shell. She chuckled and held it up. “I’m not sure what I was trying to prove. I painted an ugly design. Now I see how pretty the shell would have been unpainted. I guess that’s why you all told me to leave it alone. But I enjoyed painting it at the time and that’s what matters. Right?”
“With a shell—yes. With bigger matters in life—you need to listen to those who’ve gone before you.” Lydia’s maternal tone irritated Bethany’s already frayed nerves. Lydia sat forward in the little chair. “Ten days… that was the longest you’ve ever been away from home, isn’t it?” She was trying to get her to talk. When Bethany did not respond, Lydia continued. “Well, I’m glad you’re back in the house and… safe.”
“Justin isn’t dangerous.” Bethany laid the shell back inside the trunk and covered it with a heap of play clothes. “I don’t know what Connor told you, but I got to know Justin and he is a good man. He’s actually a lot like Connor.”
“You just think that because he sounds like Connor?”
“No. You don’t know him.”
“Do you love him?”
Bethany wondered that herself. She liked him and—with little effort—could imagine loving him, but their connection lacked something unnamable. She picked up the old dolls from the floor and began stuffing them inside the trunk. “I don’t know. Maybe. I think I could love him. He’s smart and charming and has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. And the way he looks at me when no one else is around…”
“It sounds like you’re intrigued with him.”
Bethany closed the lid on the trunk, satisfied that all her childish possessions were now out of sight. “So what if I am? So what if we are attracted to each other and love each other?”
Lydia stood and folded her hands. “Those are two different things. Attraction is a biological help to ensure procreation. It’s an enjoyable benefit of romance, but it isn’t love.”
“Is this a medical lecture?” Bethany pushed away from the floor and walked back to her satchel. “You have Connor. Now another outsider has arrived—a charming and mysterious man who will no doubt intrigue every woman in the village—and he is interested in me. You should be happy for me. You had your fun, now why can’t I have mine?”
Lydia stabbed her finger into the air at Bethany. “You think I’m trying to keep you from something good when I’m actually concerned you are making a bad choice.”
Bethany boosted her volume. “I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you.”
Lydia’s eyes widened. She blinked rapidly then glanced at the door. Footsteps echoed in the hallway as Connor climbed the stairs. His brow furrowed when he rounded the landing and looked at Bethany. She wondered how much he had heard and glanced back at Lydia. The tip of Lydia’s nose was red like she was about to cry. Guilt gripped Bethany’s throat and she regretted what she said. She knew she should apologize in the moment, but she could not get herself to say anything.
Connor leaned a hand into the doorframe and sighed when he looked at Lydia. “The elder meeting is over, but your dad won’t be home for a while.” He looked back at Bethany and his scowl returned. “There’s someone downstairs who wants to talk with you.”
Bethany assumed he meant Justin. She controlled the beaming smile that threatened to splay across her face. “Does he have my father’s permission?”
Connor glanced at Lydia then back at Bethany and grinned. “Yes, actually, he does.”
* * *
Everett used the reflective glass door of a bookcase in the Colburns’ parlor for a mirror and combed his hair with his fingers. His reflection blurred as he focused on the books inside the glass. The inscriptions on several leather bound volumes attested to the Colburns’ long lineage of faith. It was a heritage he planned to pass to his future children, but first he had to get the woman he loved to let him court her.
Everett looked away from the books when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Bethany’s fingers skimmed the handrail as she descended the steps into the parlor. Her smile faded when her eyes met Everett’s. The change was subtle, but he noticed. He grinned anyway. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“I’m glad you came. I missed you.” Skirting his question, Bethany reached her arms up and hugged him the way a child hugs her father. She let go quickly, but he held her for one more heartbeat. After she pulled away, she flopped onto the divan and gave her voice a dramatic inflection. “You have no idea how awful it was being trapped in that cottage for ten days. I was so bored. I wished you would have come to see me more, but I understood why you couldn’t.”
Everett rounded the edge of the divan and sat beside her. “I would have slept on the ground beneath your window the entire time if I could have, Beth.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” She shifted sideways and propped her arm on the back of the divan. Then her smile mellowed into a caring grin and her voice lowered from its ebullient tone. “And after all you’ve been through. This has been a hard time for you too. It didn’t seem fair—our being separated when we needed each other. I wanted to go to the funeral so badly. I hated being apart from you while you were grieving.”
“Don’t worry. There’s plenty left.”
“Grief?”
Even while sitting beside the woman he loved, Everett ached from losing his father. He pressed his lips together and nodded. “We’re together now. L
et’s focus on that.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About losing Father?” When she inclined her head, he watched the light hit her blue eyes. “My sweet Beth, I know you’re willing to share my grief, but that’s not why I came.”
“Oh?”
“I thought I was going to lose you.”
“But you didn’t. I survived the illness. The boredom afterward turned out to be a far greater threat to my survival. I was so lonely at times, I thought it would kill me.”
Everett grinned at her exaggeration. “People do not die from boredom. Besides, you had Mercer in there with you. I’m sure you enjoyed getting to know the newcomer, didn’t you?”
A sullenness marked Bethany’s expression. She pulled her arm off the back of the divan. “I suppose.”
“I know you’re fond of him.” Everett had promised himself he would not ask, but the words slithered from his tongue. “Do you love him?”
“Are you asking as my friend or as an elder?”
“Are there two different answers?”
Bethany’s eyes glanced to the left then back at him. “No.”
“Be honest with me.”
She looked at her hands. Everett watched her face as she picked at a cuticle. Finally, she glanced back up at him. Her fingers continued their nervous picking. “I don’t know. And that is the truth.”
Hearing her indecision was better than hearing her declare her love for another man. If she did not love Mercer, Everett still had a chance. He would fight for her. He would give her the space and the time John advised, but he would not give up. He reached his hands to hers and pulled her fidgeting fingers apart. “Do you love me?”
Bethany’s eyes widened. She sat silently and left her hands under his. Then she smiled and dimples pitted her cheeks. “Of course, Everett. You’ve always been my dearest friend.”
“I cherish our friendship too, Beth, but that’s not what I meant. I asked you to be honest with me and now I am going to be honest with you.” His heart hammered against the wall of his chest as her smile disappeared. He drew a deep breath. “For the past two years I planned to declare my love for you on your eighteenth birthday, but when it got close, you complained about the boys who were waiting to court you. You said you weren’t ready. So I decided to give you time. Then you almost died and I was so scared I would lose you before I had a chance to tell you how I felt. I don’t know if you still want more time, but if you are willing to consider Mercer, then you need to know that I love you.” He left his hands piled on hers, desperate for the connection.
Uncharted Inheritance (The Uncharted Series Book 3) Page 11