Waiting on Love

by Tracie Peterson

  “Did he say that?”

  “Yes. Not in those exact words, but it was definitely implied. Still, what can he do? He can hardly leave her to be abused by that man. I don’t believe that is the will of God.”

  “Nor do I. I hate that it is even an issue for Papa to deal with. He’s so broken over this entire matter.”

  “He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’ll do what’s best.”

  “The anger in me wants someone to pummel Nelson as he did my sister.” Elise was surprised by her own response. She had worked hard to be forgiving but certainly hadn’t come to a place where she felt she could forgive Nelson Worthington. Especially since he didn’t think he was in the wrong. He saw no need for anyone’s forgiveness.

  Nick paid for dinner, and they began their walk back to the ship. The skies had long turned dark and the breeze cold. Elise pulled her coat close.

  “I’m sorry it’s so gloomy tonight,” he said.

  “It fits what is happening in our life right now.”

  “I hope not. Not everything going on between us is gloomy. Is it?”

  She shook her head. “No. My feelings for you are hardly that.”

  “Nor mine for you. Still, I wouldn’t be offended if you were put off the idea of marriage and romance, given what your sister has gone through.”

  Elise was glad for his hold on her elbow as she took a misstep. He held fast and straightened her just as they reached the docks.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I am. Thanks to you.” She stopped. “You’ve been a support to me in so many ways.” She considered what he’d said. “I’m not against the idea of marriage and romance to the right man. A man of God who clearly knows what it is to love is certainly worthy of such things.”

  “I won’t feel that I’m worthy until I attempt to resolve matters with my father,” Nick said, moving her to face him. “But you know my feelings for you are growing ever stronger.”

  “Yes. As are mine for you.” She saw no reason to pretend otherwise, even though she didn’t want her feelings to make his leaving even harder.

  “I’ve never known a woman like you, nor the feelings that you have stirred to life.” He gave her such a look of tenderness as they stood beneath the gaslight. “Will you wait for me, Elise?”

  She almost burst into tears, but instead she forced them back and gave a nod. “I will. I will wait for you no matter how long it takes.”

  He pulled her into his arms and brushed back the wisps of hair that had escaped her bonnet. “I promise I’ll return as soon as I can.” He pressed his lips to hers.

  Elise was lost in the moment. She easily let go of her fears of Booker Duran and the worries she held for her sister and father as she put her arms around Nick’s neck. She knew they must be a rather wanton display, but she didn’t care about that either. She loved this man, and he loved her.

  She was no longer waiting on love. It had arrived, and it was glorious.

  Chapter 19

  Nick embraced the old housekeeper. “It’s so good to see you again, Mrs. Schmitt.”

  She pulled away, her eyes teary. “I wondered if I would ever see you again on earth. Just look at you. You’ve grown so handsome and rugged. I almost don’t recognize you.”

  “Well, I recognize you, dear woman. You are a steadfast part of my life. Perhaps the only one. Now, tell me everything.”

  “I don’t think your father has much time.”

  “Then he’s still alive?” Nick felt a wash of relief.

  “I think he’s been holding on in hopes of you coming.” She dabbed her eyes with the hem of her apron. “You need to go straight to him. There will be time for us to talk later.”

  Nick nodded and let go of the housekeeper. He unbuttoned his coat, and Mrs. Schmitt helped him out of it, then took his hat.

  “I’ll have your bags delivered to your old room. He’s hardly in a position to refuse you staying here.” She met Nick’s gaze. “I don’t think he would anyway. He’s different now that he’s dying. He’s been kinder since his heart attacked him.”

  Nick nodded and headed for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he was soon bounding down the long hall to his father’s bedroom. Glancing around him, Nick could see that nothing had changed in ten years. In fact, it hadn’t changed since his mother died. Why hadn’t he realized that before?

  When he reached his father’s bedroom, he paused. He suddenly felt like a child again. A lost and broken child who wanted only to find that his wrongdoings had been forgiven. The wreck of the Polaris and the eight men he’d lost came unexpectedly to his thoughts. They were good men, men he’d worked with on other ships and had stolen away for his own. They might be alive today except for their loyalty to Nick—their friendship.

  “And I killed them.”

  He looked at his father’s door, wondering if he had the strength to go through with this. Why had he come here? Why, after all this time, had he come?

  Nick had no answer. He supposed it was to do his duty, but he knew he also wanted his father’s forgiveness. Didn’t all children long for the approval of their father, heavenly or earthly?

  Lord, please let him be willing to receive me. Let him forgive me. Nick felt the muscles in his chest tighten. Let me not be too late.

  He opened the door without knocking. “Father?”

  He moved into the dimly lit room. A fire burned in the hearth, and a single wall lamp was lit. The flame was set low.

  “Father, it’s Nicodemus.” There was a chair beside the bed, and Nick stood behind it for a moment, using the back for support.

  The man in the bed looked small and fragile, perhaps even dead.

  Nick called to him again. “Father.”

  This time the old man opened his eyes. He studied Nick for a moment, then held up his hand for just a second. “Is it . . . really you?”

  Nick smiled. “It is. I heard you were sick and came to see you.” He moved from behind the chair to take his father’s hand. He had no way of knowing whether the old man would despise him for the act of tenderness or cherish it, but it seemed worth the risk. If for no other reason than that Nick needed to feel that connection.

  “The letters,” his father murmured.

  Nick shook his head. “What letters?”

  “The ones . . . you sent Mrs. Schmitt.” His father seemed a little more alert as the stupor of sleep lifted.

  “What about them?”

  “I read them.”

  Nick was surprised by this and tried to remember everything he’d ever said. “Why? I thought you never wanted to see me again or know anything about my life.” He regretted his words. He’d not meant to sound accusing.

  “I know. I was . . . wrong.”

  Nick had never known his father to apologize or admit wrongdoing. He couldn’t keep the surprise from his face.

  “It’s true. I know it comes as an unexpected . . . confession.”

  His father struggled for breath, and Nick wondered if he should do something. “Can I help you sit up? Would that be better for your breathing?”

  Father shook his head. “No. Nothing . . . will help.”

  Nick could hardly bear watching his father struggle. He fought to focus on something less difficult. “If you read the letters, you pretty much know everything about me and the years between us.”

  The older man’s breathing was raspy but returned to an evenness that suggested calm. “I do. You’re . . . a ship’s captain.”

  “I was. I’m working as a first mate right now. I’m on the Mary Elise. I’ve met the woman I intend to marry.”

  “Elise,” his father whispered.

  “Yes.” Nick smiled at the mere mention of her. “I think you’d like her.” He never would have said this to the man he knew as Father ten years ago.

  “She sounds strong . . . and smart.” His father closed his eyes for a moment. “Like your mother.”

  In all of his years, Nick had never heard his father regard Nick�
�s mother as either strong or smart. He ignored the old feelings of bitterness. There was no good purpose served by holding on to them.

  “Yes. Like Mother.”

  “I’ll see her soon. Much . . . to apologize for. To you . . . as well.” Father reopened his eyes. “I am sorry.”

  The words were almost as powerful as a blow. Those three words left Nick with no doubt that his father was dying.

  “About what, Father?” He lowered into the chair, feeling almost weak.

  “Everything. I wish I’d been better . . . a better father. It wasn’t until you’d gone . . . that I could . . . see what I’d done.”

  Nick didn’t know what to say. The room seemed to close in on him. He’d come here not even knowing if his father was still alive. Now his father offered an apology for the past. It was completely unexpected. Especially since Nick had been the one to come seeking forgiveness.

  “I know you are . . . surprised.”

  “I am. I wasn’t even sure I’d be allowed in the house, and now you tell me you were wrong.”

  “I suppose . . . knowing death is near . . . makes me remember. I don’t . . . like some of the memories.”

  Nick took his hand again. “Father, all is forgiven on my part. I came here seeking your forgiveness. I hope you will forgive me for the pain I caused you.”

  “No pain. You made me . . . proud. You were strong. I was the . . . weak one. Didn’t want you to leave me . . . like your mother. I was deep . . . in sadness.”

  Nick had never considered that. His father had never once let Nick see him mourning. Nick hadn’t been sure his mother had meant anything to the old man.

  “I’m sorry. I never knew if you really loved her.”

  His father struggled to breathe and began to cough. It lasted only a moment, however, as if his body had no energy for anything more. “I loved her . . . so much. Now . . . I’ll see her again.” He gave a hint of a smile.

  Nick dared a question. “Did she know—that you loved her?”

  His father nodded. “She did. I might have . . . left you with questions . . . but she knew.”

  It made Nick glad to know this. His mother had never spoken a word against his father, but Nick had always thought that was just her way of being an obedient wife.

  “So it is well between us?” Nick asked, giving his father’s hand a squeeze. “You forgive me the mistakes—the disappointments?”

  “I do. Do you . . . forgive me?”

  “Yes.” Nick’s word was barely murmured, but the impact was monumental.

  “When I thought . . . how I might have lost you . . . on the Polaris . . .” Father paused for a moment, then began again. “It made me . . . mindful. I felt . . . such regret.”

  Nick thought back to that moment. “There was much regret to be had.”

  “I . . . hired a man. Wanted him . . . to investigate the wreck.”

  Nick stared at his father. “You hired an investigator to check into the wreck of the Polaris?”

  “Yes. Wanted to make sure . . . you were treated fairly.”

  “I was.” Nick had never known or even suspected that his father had sought to investigate the wreck. Nick remembered a man who’d come to talk to him and take notes, but he’d assumed the man was from the insurance company.

  “You weren’t to blame. The storm . . . shifted. Caught . . . two dozen ships unaware.”

  “I’m to blame because it happened on my command. I was responsible for the ship and those men. Midwest storms can be tricky things. Then you add in the lake, and it only adds to the situation.” Nick shook his head. “I wanted so much to prove myself to you.”

  His father smiled. “You did, son. The investigator . . . told me how . . . you risked your life . . . trying to save your men.”

  Nick remembered it as if it were yesterday. He’d tried to save them all, but there hadn’t been time. Just as now, there was no time to spend with his father. No time to renew their relationship. No time.

  “You’re a . . . good man, Nicodemus. I am . . . proud of you.”

  Nick was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to say. It was all that he’d wanted to hear from his father. That, and to know his father loved him.

  “Was afraid I’d never . . . see you again.” His father closed his eyes. His voice was much weaker. “So . . . glad you came.”

  Nick could see that his father was exhausted and got to his feet. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll come back in a little while, and we can talk more.”

  His father nodded. “Must say this . . . first.” He paused, and his eyes widened as if to see Nick more clearly. “I hold . . . abiding love for you . . . my son.”

  Nick bent down and kissed his father for the very first time in his life. “And I for you, Father.”

  After he’d settled in his room, Nick decided to stretch out on the bed for a few minutes. The twenty-some hours of travel and layovers had taken all of his energy, and even though it was breakfast time and he was starved, sleep appealed more. A short nap would refresh him.

  When he woke and found the sun setting, Nick couldn’t believe he’d slept so long. Someone had thoughtfully lit a lamp and turned it down low, and covered him with a heavy quilt. No doubt that had been Mrs. Schmitt. There was also a pitcher of water sitting in a beautiful porcelain basin of matching design. A towel was folded neatly beside it.

  Nick washed off some of the travel grime. He went to the wardrobe, wondering what he might find there. To his surprise, the clothes from his duffel had been pressed and hung up. He pulled out a clean shirt and donned it before heading downstairs to speak to Mrs. Schmitt before visiting his father again.

  He found her in the dining room. She must have heard him stirring, because she was setting a plate of food on the table.

  “I knew you’d probably be hungry,” she said as he entered the room.

  He glanced around the elaborate dining room. His mother had ordered the walls papered in a beautiful gold and mauve. The rug had been specially woven to the precise measurements of the room, and the enormous mahogany table could seat forty when all of its leaves were in place. For now, it was better suited to no more than a dozen. In the ornate marble-framed fireplace, someone had built an ample fire to warm the room. It reminded him of days before his mother died. She had loved to have dinner parties, and even though the children weren’t invited, Nick had often seen the servants putting the room together for such events.

  “I’m hardly dressed for dinner,” he said.

  “No one here dresses for dinner anymore,” Mrs. Schmitt declared. “Since your father fell ill, no one has even used this room.”

  “Perhaps I should just eat in the kitchen.”

  “That would hardly be appropriate. You’ll soon enough be master of the house.”

  Nick had just pulled out the chair by the plate of food and stopped. “I was disowned.”

  “You were reinstated,” Mrs. Schmitt said, smiling. “Three weeks ago, Mr. Clark called the lawyers and had a meeting. It was the last time he was out of bed, but he was most assuredly in his right mind. Your sisters and their husbands were present, as was I. I think he wanted me to be there so I would write to you about it, but then he fell so gravely ill that I forgot.”

  “My sisters know I’ve been reinstated in our father’s estate? How did they receive the news?”

  Mrs. Schmitt looked at him rather oddly. “They were happy. Deborah wept. I think Miriam did as well, but she’s so private with her feelings.”

  Nick was deeply touched. He’d never known how his sisters felt about any of this, because he’d never written to them to ask. Mrs. Schmitt had told him of their affairs, but Nick never asked her to relay any of his actions to them.

  “Will you join me?” he asked, looking at the abundance of food.

  She smiled. “I will.” She gathered another place setting and then took the chair to his right.

  Nick prayed a blessing, and then they began to eat and talk about all the years that had separated
them. All the while, Nick was aware of the man dying upstairs. How amazing that God could bring them together again. Had he not come home, he might never have had the chance to make things right.

  “What caused Father’s change of heart?”

  Mrs. Schmitt shook her head. “I can’t really say. I personally think it was staring death in the face. He talked very little of you after you left. One day I received a letter from you. I accidentally left it on the mantel. When I remembered and went to retrieve it, I found your father reading it. I thought he might throw it in the fire afterwards, but instead he refolded it and placed it back on the fireplace ledge. I was so surprised, but he seemed quite content. So the next time you wrote, I left the letter there again. It wasn’t long before he found it and read it.”

  “He said he read them all. I suppose I’m glad he did.”

  “I think he needed to. You spoke of your sorrow in disappointing him, as well as your love of sailing. I think with their blend of homesick moments and self-doubt, as well as the pride in your accomplishments and interesting adventures, he looked forward to them just as much as I did. I think they also helped him better know you as a son.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. I just never imagined I would come home to his welcome. I didn’t even dare pray for it.”

  Mrs. Schmitt smiled. “Well, I did.”

  After supper, Nick went to his father’s room with his Bible in hand. His father was awake, as if he were waiting for Nick. He seemed stronger, more like his old self, but a kinder version.

  “I thought maybe I had just dreamed you were here, but Perkins, my valet, assured me you had really come.”

  “Perkins. A new valet?”

  “Yes. Halsberg retired to go live with his daughter.”

  It was remarkable how much better his father was breathing. Nick silently thanked God for the improvement.

  “I read my Bible on the long journey here from Oswego. That was where I left my ship and caught the train to Boston.” Nick held up his Bible. “I brought it now in case you wanted me to read to you.” He had no idea what his father’s standing with God was, but it was weighing on Nick’s heart.