“You came because of Thomas, even though he wrote to another woman? Is that why you said you fell in love with someone else’s love story?”
“Yes . . . well, no. Not exactly. I did find his letters moving. So much so that I went to Alexandria to find his Clara. I wanted to help him avoid a life of loneliness. But once I was there, I learned she had died in a tragic accident.” Penny put her hands on her heart. “I ached for him. I was sure he didn’t know of her death, so I wrote him an anonymous letter telling him of the accident. Then when my uncle stepped back into our lives, the only thing that felt right was coming here. I needed to see for myself that Thomas was well. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I thought he would understand me. Azure Springs was the only place outside of DC I could think of.”
“And now that you’ve met him?”
“Oh, Margaret. The moment I saw him, well, not exactly the moment I saw him. That moment was spent trying to pull Honey from the mud. But after that when he came to help me and every time after. Especially when I danced with him and when he walked me around his land. And when he helped me bathe my muddy dog. And even when he offered to take her into his home. All those times I felt my heart beating faster within me.” Penny looked down. “I realize I’m too easily overwhelmed by emotions. I know I should not be, but sometimes feelings just capture me. And then when life falls apart, I’m left so hurt.”
“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. There’s nothing wrong with a beating heart or even with one that feels pain.” She stroked Penny’s hair. “What happened? Did he learn the truth of why you came west?”
“No, he didn’t. The truth is, I read a letter, well, part of a letter, that he had changed his mind about sending. Reading it, I was reminded of all I do not know. I have big questions about his past. I can’t get the pieces to fit together. The one truth I’m certain of—he loves Clara. Even though she is gone, he wishes for her. I haven’t the means to wait for a man to heal and no right to expect him to turn to me when he does.” She stopped herself. Hearing her own words aloud only made the hurt grow deeper. “I suppose I realized this was all just a dream.”
Penny took a steadying breath. “The letter awakened me to reality. I see now how wrong I was to come west. I need to start planning for my future. This”—she took a deep breath—“this is not my life. This is not my home. I can’t stay here.”
“I think it’s time for a bit of honesty.” Margaret nodded as though she were agreeing with her own idea. “You do have to think about tomorrow, and tomorrow you ought to ride out to the old Dawson place and ask Thomas all your questions. Remember, that letter wasn’t meant for you. It might all make sense when he explains it. And when you’ve run out of questions, tell him the truth of why you came. Give him a chance to hear your story. Until then, stop fretting. It’ll do you no good.” Margaret walked to the mantel and took down a small painting. “This was my Wyatt.”
“He’s very handsome,” Penny said, taking the image into her hands. The man in the frame had a thick beard and friendly eyes.
“The handsomest man who ever walked these streets.” She took it back and stared at it. “Handsome and good.” She looked up and smiled a crooked smile at Penny. “But before he was good, he was a man with a past.”
“A past?”
“Mm-hmm. He gambled, even lost his family’s prized horses once. He also got into more than one brawl over crop prices and who knows what. I remember watching him then. He was so reckless. But he turned his life around. He changed.”
“How did you know?”
“Well, I didn’t all at once, but it started with little things. He’d ask me questions and I could tell he cared about my answer. I could feel it. I knew deep inside he had become a different man.”
Margaret ran her fingers over the edge of the little frame. “I don’t know what Thomas’s past is, but I believe he’s becoming a better man. And there’s nothing so fine as a man who knows to turn down a different road. Get some sleep, and when you see him next ask about his past. Be sure, though, to ask about his future as well. And tell him of your past and your future. Otherwise, there’s little purpose in talking at all.”
19
Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope.”
Thomas closed his Bible as the words from Romans filled his mind.
Hope. Joy.
He had found both—in his growing faith, the town, the people, the land, the beautiful dark-haired girl. For a moment he wished he had found them earlier. It was a useless thought. He shook it away, not wanting to go where those dark memories often took him.
Instead, he retired for the night with his mind on the future.
Staring up at the ceiling, he found himself smiling at what the coming day would hold.
“Penelope Ercanbeck.” There in the dark of his room he could see the curve of her lips when she smiled. The green of her eyes and her fair skin. She was kind and thoughtful. Funny and beautiful. More than that, he liked the way he felt when he was with her. Her spirits were bright. She seemed to have a laugh always near the surface. Penny made him want to smile and to dance. She made him want to be a better man. What he saw in Penny he’d never seen in a woman before. She was different from anyone else, even Clara. He didn’t doubt many noble and good women were out there, but she was the first he had noticed since changing course. And he wasn’t sure he ever wanted or needed to find another one.
He closed his weary eyes, reminding himself he’d see her tomorrow. Tomorrow would be another day to seek out hope, purpose, and joy. Sleep came easy. The nights of endlessly tossing and turning were past.
Penny tiptoed to the front door. It creaked when she opened it. Quickly, she looked over her shoulder.
“You thought you could leave without me knowing?” Margaret asked from the chair in the front room.
“Do you spend your time just listening?” Penny looked at the stockings on her feet and the boots she held in her hand. “I was so careful.”
“I’ve owned a boardinghouse long enough to always have one ear open. You never know when someone’s going to try sneaking out or sneaking in. I heard the boards creak and decided I’d get up so I could greet you.”
“I wasn’t sneaking. Not exactly. I just didn’t want to wake you.” She covered a yawn with her free hand. “I remember the way to Thomas’s, but it’s so far and I wanted to start early.”
“Tell me, how did you sleep?”
“One moment I was lecturing myself on jumping to conclusions and the next I was jumping to conclusions.” Penny fidgeted with a loose strand of hair. “I need to go there and confront it all. I’ll feel better leaving town knowing I’ve asked what needed to be asked and told him the truth. He deserves that.”
“I wish I could be a bird above you listening to the two of you bare your souls.” Margaret motioned toward the kitchen. “Come get some food first. It’s always easier to talk on a full stomach.”
“Thank you. You’re always good about seeing me fed,” Penny said as the two stepped into the kitchen.
“Food is what I do best. What will you say to him?” Margaret asked while wrapping biscuits and putting them in a basket. She handed one to Penny. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I believe I’ll begin by telling him the truth about why I came. I’ll tell him I’m sorry I concealed who I was. Then I’ll confess to reading part of his letter. I will say whatever comes to my mind and my heart.” She picked at the biscuit Margaret had given her. “I wish I were braver or at least one of those women who can command language and say the right thing in the right way. But I’m not brave or articulate, so I’ll just be honest.” She wiped a crumb from her mouth with a cloth napkin. “If he chooses to despise me, so be it. When it’s done, I’ll walk back and buy a train ticket. I’m really just here so I can delay what’s to come. And that can only last so long. It’s time to face it all and leave the fantasy behind.”
“It�
��s not fantasy. You are here in the flesh.” Margaret continued filling the basket as she spoke. “Besides, you said you loved this town. You’d have never found that love if you hadn’t come.”
Penny rubbed her tired eyes. “You’re right. I’ve never regretted a beautiful dream, so I will try not to waste time regretting this.” She smiled at Margaret. “I do love it here. I love the people. I love that they share food at socials. I love the friendliness. I love the wide-open spaces. All of it is beautiful. This brief time away has been a precious reminder of all that is good. I only wish it could go on without ending.”
Margaret crossed the room and put her motherly arms around her. “What would your father tell you right now?”
“I wish I knew.” She sighed. “He always had the right words.”
Margaret patted Penny’s back. “Think. I’ve heard you speak often of his wisdom. What would he tell you? I’m certain his words are written on your heart. What would he say?”
Penny closed her eyes for a moment. “He’d tell me . . .” She tried to think back, to hear him again. “He’d tell me it is my job to do all I can in this life to make each day better. He’d tell me to get in and change what I can. And what I cannot, he’d tell me to hand over to God.”
“A wise man,” Margaret said. “Go today and change what you can and follow your father’s advice with the rest. Then brush off your hands and go on living. No matter the outcome of the day, you’ll carry on.”
“I know the bread won’t mix itself. I’ll have to. It’s time to go back.” She stood and brushed a few crumbs from her skirts.
“You could stay here.”
“I’ve thought of that. But I’ve no skills to earn money out here. I was raised to be nothing more than a genteel woman. Thankfully, my father thought languages should be part of my education. I believe that’s why I was hired so quickly at the dead letter office. Working there is the best way for me to support myself.” Penny tried to put on a brave face, but the thought of being a clerk again seemed daunting.
Margaret picked up the basket she had packed and handed it to Penny. “Go to Thomas. Take this so you aren’t hungry. There’s plenty in there for you two to share. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that no one should have an important discussion on an empty stomach.” She put a gentle hand on her shoulder and directed her to the door.
“Thank you,” Penny said. “You’ve been so kind.”
“You’re most welcome.”
Penny stepped out into the street, only to hear Margaret call to her. “I’m hoping you come back to tell me that it’s all sorted out. I do love when two people I care so much about get to weave their lives together. Makes me feel like my meddling ways are worth something.”
Penny waved as she walked from the safety of the boardinghouse toward the old Dawson place, where she was fairly certain Thomas would declare her a fool.
As she walked the long and dusty road, Penny filled the time with thoughts of Dinah and Lucas, of her mother and father, and of the story she hoped to write. She marveled that her fictitious alibi had become her real ambition.
Something caught her eye—a rabbit hopping for its burrow—and she paused. A hawk circled overhead. For no explainable reason she began to feel an urgency to get to the old Dawson place. Nature and its serenity no longer distracted her. Her heart raced, but she didn’t know why.
She walked a bit farther and then there it was—just over the next little rise—the old Dawson place. Only something wasn’t right. The sky was dark. A black cloud billowed above the farm, growing larger and larger.
Penny could smell smoke. Something was burning, something big.
Forcing her tired legs to move faster, she dropped the basket of biscuits from Margaret and ran as fast as she could toward the farm. Her heart pounded in her chest, telling her to slow down, but she would not. Confessions, interrogations—they did not matter now.
Only Thomas mattered.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a rider on horseback. It was a man, she could tell that much, but his face was turned away from her. His horse was still as he looked at the fire. Like a sentinel, he watched, then slowly turned and rode off into the distance. Why wasn’t he helping?
There was no time to worry about the rider. Not now. Not while Thomas’s fate was unknown. She forced herself to go faster still, despite her aching legs and raw throat. The worn and uneven road was the only thing that kept her from the blaze. She tripped, landing hard on her side. But as quickly as she went down, she got back up and hurried on.
A few more strides and she could tell it was the barn that was up in flames. She ran to it.
Where is Thomas? Where is Honey?
He had to be here. He had to be safe.
“Thomas!” she yelled as loudly as she could. The crackling, hungry fire muted her efforts. “Thomas!”
Frantic with worry, she raced around the barn, screaming as she went.
At last she saw him, his skin darkened from the thick smoke, beside a small, charred side door. His shirt was untucked and blackened.
“Clara!” he yelled as he pushed against the door.
She heard him, but she couldn’t have heard correctly. She shouted again as she stepped closer. His head turned, and for a brief moment she saw his face. His eyes were wild and unfamiliar.
Like a madman, he flung the door open. Smoke poured from within, racing to the fresh air with speed and mass. Thomas disappeared into the blackness. It was as though the fire had consumed him in one giant gulp.
She would not let it have him. Somehow she would save him. She ran into the smoke. Her eyes burned, but she would not close them. Not with him inside. Her eyes fought to adjust and soon she saw his dark shape moving deeper into the barn. Penny reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling at him with all her might.
“Stop, Thomas!” she screamed.
Penny darted in front of him and clutched the front of his shirt and pulled him toward her. “Stop this!”
He looked past her as though she were not even there. Penny let go, unsure what to do. A board crashed down only feet from them, launching burning shards of wood in all directions. There was no time to think. She had to act. She had to save him.
Penny looked to Thomas, hoping the caving roof would be enough to scare him from the barn. But his eyes were still wild. He pushed past her and took a giant step farther into the building.
She covered her mouth with her hand and followed. “Thomas, you have to stop. It’s burning. We’re going to die.” Her lungs screamed for air, but she could not leave him.
A frightened horse cried from its stall.
“It’s Josephine.” Penny struggled to get the words out. She took Thomas’s hand. “You can save her. Save Josephine!”
He said nothing but went to the gray mare and opened her stall door. Josephine reared and then ran for freedom, jumping over the obstacles in her way. She at least had the sense to leave the building. If only Thomas were as sane.
“We have to leave.” Penny coughed. She felt weak. When she tried to breathe deeper, her lungs only burned more. “Now. We have to go!”
A section of the roof fell. The already thick air became thicker still. Penny looked around her. They could still get out. She moved closer to him, searching for something or some way to bring him back to reality.
A beam fell from the rafters, knocking her to the ground.
“Thomas!” She cried out in agony. Sharp pain shot through her leg, stealing her breath and causing her head to spin.
Their eyes met for a fraction of a second. It was enough.
Something changed in him—like a bear awaking from his winter slumber. He lifted the beam and threw it away from her. Then he scooped her into his arms and ran from the dying building. Out of the mouth of the fire they emerged. Thomas ran with her to safety, then carefully set her on the ground. She felt him searching her body for injuries. All she could think was that she needed more air. And then she could think nothing at
all. The world, the barn, even Thomas faded away.
20
You carried her all the way here?” Margaret stepped from Penny’s room and sat beside Thomas on a narrow wooden bench in the upstairs landing. The doctor was in with her and the two were alone for the first time since he’d stormed through the boardinghouse door with Penny in his arms.
Thomas kept his face buried in his hands.
“The doctor says her leg will be scarred from the break, but it’ll heal. The smoke caused as much hurt as anything. I don’t think she could have taken much more of it. But even her lungs will heal.”
He didn’t look up. His only movement was from the persistent cough that racked his lungs and sent his body shaking.
“Doc says she’s lucky you got her out of there as quickly as you did. You’re both lucky.” She paused. “I can tell your lungs are hurting as well.”
As the coughing subsided, he sniffled but said nothing.
She put a hand on his back. “You saved her. She’s going to be all right.”
“She saved me.” Tears ran from his eyes, dripping between his fingers. “I was out of my head. I was mad. The fire awakened something in me. Something I’ve tried hard to forget.” His body shook again as he remembered the events of the day. “If she hadn’t come, I’d be dead. I know I would be.”
“She did come though. The dear girl could not sleep all last night. And on her own, she decided to go to you.”
“I ran in from the fields when I heard Honey barking. The barn was on fire, then the next thing I knew she was there beside me, pleading with me.” He looked up at Margaret. “The whole way to town, she didn’t speak once. She didn’t even open her eyes. I was afraid she’d be lost forever. I thought I’d killed her.” Then very softly he said, “I wish she hadn’t come. I wish the fire had just taken me. Then she’d be well. I didn’t mean for any of this—”
Margaret roughly put her hand under his chin and turned his face toward her. “Don’t you ever say that again. Not around anyone. Especially not her. She’s hurting now. You don’t get to wallow in misery and regret. Get her well and she’ll tell you why she came to you. But don’t you dare make her feel bad for coming. She’ll carry the scars of that decision her entire life. Give her a reason to wear those scars with pride. Let her be grateful she saved you. And she ought to be. And you ought to be thankful too.”
Yours Truly, Thomas Page 18
