by Jody Hedlund
“That doesn’t sound very exciting.”
“Scientific explanations usually aren’t. The folklore is always more interesting. For example, the natives believe the lights are spirit guides holding torches in the sky to direct the departed to the next world.”
“Maybe the lights belong to angels guiding people to heaven.”
“I honestly don’t know, so instead of trying to figure it all out, I just enjoy the beauty.”
“I like your plan.” She paused in the climb up the hill toward the cabin. With the display illuminating their way, he hadn’t bothered to turn on the lantern, which made the heavenly lights even brighter. “Maybe we can check on Violet and Will, and if they’re asleep, we could stay out for a little longer to enjoy the beauty.”
At her suggestion, pleasure rolled through him, although he didn’t quite know why. Was it because the sightseeing was exactly the kind of thing he would have done if she hadn’t been along? Or was he pleased because he could prolong this brief time alone together?
Abe poked his head into the cabin to find Will and Violet slumbering soundly. He led Zoe a short distance farther up the hill to a clearing where the sky spread out endlessly. He brushed the snow from a log—the remnant from a cabin that had once stood on the spot—and they sat down to watch the spectacular whirling colors.
As they took in the view, they talked quietly about the fire, the people who’d lost homes, and what could be done for them.
“Zeke got blamed for starting a fire that burned down part of the mill where he worked.”
Zoe’s statement about her brother seemed to come out of nowhere, and she stared at the northern lights, her eyes sad.
He didn’t say anything but instead waited patiently for her to continue when she was ready.
Finally, she heaved a sigh. “The fire killed several power-loom weavers who’d been kept on when everyone else had been let go.”
“But Zeke didn’t start the fire?”
She shook her head. “He’d had an argument with one of the supervisors earlier that day when he came in pleading to have his job back. Others had heard Zeke making threats, so when the news of the fire and deaths spread, everyone assumed Zeke was the one to blame.”
“Surely they investigated before accusing him?”
“That’s not the way of things where I come from. But fortunately, one of his friends warned him that the constables were coming for him, and he left town before they could arrest him.”
“That’s when he left his faith behind and sailed to British Columbia?”
“Aye.” Her voice dropped. “And it’s all my fault.”
“How could it be your fault?”
She was silent for so long he’d almost decided she wouldn’t say anything more, until she spoke softly. “The day of the fire, I begged him to go to the factory and ask for his job back. He didn’t want to, and we argued about it. But I was afraid for him. Ever since he’d lost his job, he’d started getting in with the wrong crowd—union fellas who took to violent methods to solve problems. When I heard the mill might be hiring back weavers, I begged him to go, told him God wanted him to work honestly rather than side with violence and anger.”
“Sounds like you did the right thing.”
“But if not for my badgering him, he wouldn’t have been there that day of the fire, and he wouldn’t have gotten blamed.”
“You couldn’t have known that.”
She stuck her hand into her pocket, and he suspected she was holding on to Zeke’s pendant, the only part of him she had left. “After another identical fire at the mill a few months later, the culprits were caught. And it turns out Zeke’s union companions were responsible for both incidents. They let him take the blame, but finally under pressure they admitted to the crimes.”
“So you’ve come to tell Zeke he’s been acquitted?”
“Aye, and to beg his forgiveness for my part in everything that happened. Only I’m afraid I might not be able to find him. And then if I do, what if he doesn’t want to see me?”
Abe sensed the guilt she’d carried with her since Zeke’s leaving. He offered a silent prayer for wisdom and then said, “Once the mountain roads are safe for traveling, we’ll see if we can find Zeke. And then once we do, we’ll go talk to him together.”
“Really?” She lifted her beautiful eyes to him, so full of hope.
“Really.”
She smiled. “What about you? Now that I’ve confided my deepest, darkest secrets, you must share yours.”
His deepest, darkest secrets? A part of him resisted saying anything. But the other part of him knew it was only fair that he share the same way Zoe had. He sensed she’d be a good listener and offer him compassion.
Swallowing his pride, he began to share with her about his parish in Sheffield, the rising tensions between the laborers and their bosses, and the violence that had left people dead and disillusioned. He explained how his own frustrations and guilt for not being able to make changes had led him to come to the colonies, and how he hoped one day to become a bishop in order to advocate for the people better.
“Then you hope to one day return to England?” Her voice was laced with surprise.
“Yes.” He hadn’t thought about how that would affect her. “You don’t mind, do you?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I guess I thought this would be my new home.”
He was silent for a long minute. Although he hadn’t planned to stay in the colonies indefinitely, perhaps he could consider extending his five-year commitment. Regardless, if he hoped to become a bishop, he would need to return to England and start the process of applying for the position.
She shivered and hugged herself.
He’d kept her out long enough, and now they needed to head home for warmth. “Would you mind if I prayed before we go? I’d like to lift up your situation with Zeke before our heavenly Father.”
“I don’t mind.”
He nodded and then bowed his head. Although he prayed with people everywhere he went, he suddenly felt shy about doing so with Zoe. Yes, he’d prayed with her after Jane had died. And he prayed before their shared mealtimes.
But out here, alone, with God’s glory surrounding them, the moment was different, somehow more intimate. And yet, it was important. He’d always anticipated that he’d lead his wife in prayer, that together on their knees they’d face their challenges and grow stronger as a result.
He peeked at her sideways to gauge her reaction. But she’d already bowed her head and closed her eyes and was waiting for him without a trace of shyness or awkwardness. Taking a deep breath to quell his own discomfort, he began his prayer.
When he finished, he rose and offered her a hand up. As she took hold, she smiled so that her dimples made their appearance. The sight was nearly as breathtaking as the colorful lights in the sky. He circled his fingers around hers and didn’t want to let go of the connection. Instead, he longed to hold on to the moment and to her for a few more minutes.
Thankfully, once she was standing, she didn’t make an effort to pull away. Rather, she seemed content as they walked along to keep her hand within his—at least he hoped she was. “A hot spring. Northern lights. What other surprises await me here in British Columbia?”
“The beauty of the wilderness never ceases to amaze me.”
“You’ll have to introduce me to more. Perhaps another surprise?”
“What kind of surprise would you like next?”
“Surprise me with your surprise.” Her answer was playful.
He was learning that when she was teasing him, she didn’t expect a serious answer. Nevertheless, he wanted to reply with a witty response and said the only thing that came to mind. “I’ll do my best.”
She bumped her shoulder against his arm. “I like it when you’re home.”
“I like it too.” The past few days while he’d been in Hope, he’d kept busy with making arrangements for all the supplies his new church would need when the
y started construction next month, particularly figuring out the number and sizes of windows—regular and stained glass. He’d also spent some time helping John Roberts install a new and bigger stove in his rectory.
All the while he’d been gone, thoughts of Zoe and Violet had been at the forefront of his mind. By the end of the second day, he’d been strangely restless. Even John had noticed it and had commented on his disposition. “Does this mean what I think it does?” John had asked.
“Something’s wrong with me,” Abe had admitted, “although I don’t know what.”
“I know what’s ailing you.”
“Then do not mince words and tell me straightaway.”
“You miss your wife.”
Abe had shaken his head in denial, unable to believe he could miss a woman he’d only met and married a month ago. But now that he was home with Zoe, he realized John had been right.
He loved being with Zoe, loved the time reading and talking with her in the evenings while she played with Violet or worked on her knitting, loved her teasing and her smiles, loved that she asked questions about everywhere he’d been and all the things he’d done while he was gone. He loved seeing her first thing when he awoke in the morning, loved sitting at the table across from her with a cup of tea, loved the brightness of her presence and beauty in his home.
As they all too rapidly reached the cabin, his footsteps slowed with the unwillingness to let the time together come to an end. And yet, he knew from experience he’d regret the late night and lack of sleep. Once daylight came, he’d have to drag himself out of bed. . . .
Bed.
He stopped abruptly in front of the door. With Will moving in, he and Zoe would have to share a bed tonight and every night.
As if remembering the same, she grew quiet and fumbled at the door nervously.
He released her hand and took a step back. “I think I’ll take in a few more minutes of night air.”
“’Course. I understand.” She let herself in and closed the door quickly as if to block him from following.
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at the vacant spot she’d just occupied. Even after a month of marriage, clearly she wasn’t excited about his joining her in the bed. To some degree, he supposed he’d never really expected a wife would be excited about marital intimacies. From everything he’d ever learned, most women took little pleasure in such things.
When the time finally came, he couldn’t fathom pushing himself on Zoe if she had no desire for him. At the very least, he wanted her to care about him, maybe even welcome his embrace—certainly not scuttle away from him as fast as she could. Was that too much to ask for?
The truth was that he needed to put forth more effort to win her affection. So far he hadn’t exactly been doing a stellar job of that. He could blame his absence and busyness. But even when he was with her, was he more enamored with all she did for him than with what he was doing for her? He hung his head and chastised himself to do better, to be the kind of husband God wanted him to be.
Even if he won her heart, he couldn’t expect more of the new sleeping arrangements. They still had many months left in the colonies, and he couldn’t let their marriage progress yet and risk having children and additional responsibilities that would take him from his work. He might have to share the bed with her, but that’s all it would be—sharing the bed.
The moment Zoe heard the door open and then close, she froze and held herself motionless. Having already moved to the far side of the bed, she stared at the wall, reminded all over again of the first awkward night she’d spent with Abe . . . except he was no longer a stranger.
She could hear him drop the latch to lock the door, kick off his boots, shed his coat, then tread quietly toward the bed. When he reached the side, he paused. She stiffened as she waited for him to slide in next to her.
Did he expect her to turn over and acknowledge his presence? To say something? Or was he as reluctant to share the bed with her as she was with him?
When he finally lowered himself, the mattress sank under his weight and seemed to pull her away from her side toward the middle. She clung to the edge to keep the distance. Once he was beside her, she held her breath, expecting him to roll over, hesitantly touch her back, and maybe whisper something.
But like that first night together, he held himself just as rigidly as she did. And he didn’t move. Except for the steady rise and fall of his chest.
After a moment, she let herself relax. And then felt a tiny pang of disappointment, although she wasn’t sure why. Had she hoped he would desire her more now that they’d been married awhile? Had she only imagined the attraction at the hot spring? Was she reading more into his desire to hold her hand tonight?
Whatever the case, his even breathing calmed her racing heart. And within minutes, her lashes fell and exhaustion claimed her so that when she awoke hours later, she was startled to realize she’d actually slept.
At the first moments of wakefulness, peace and warmth enveloped her, and she realized she’d had nothing to worry about with Abe. She should have known he’d treat her as respectfully and carefully as he always did.
But even as the peacefulness came, it drifted away, replaced instead by strange, tight longing. Would he never get over Lizzy and learn to like her instead?
At the shifting pressure against her, she was suddenly alert to the length of Abe’s muscular body pressing against her back, his strong arm resting on her, and his long leg draped over hers.
For several heartbeats, all she could think about was his touch, his full, solid contours leaning into her. His head practically shared her pillow, and his chest rose and fell in the rhythm of heavy slumber. His hand was splayed across her hip with a familiarity that sent warmth into her face.
The quiet and darkness of the cabin told her morning hadn’t yet dawned but that it wouldn’t be long before Violet awoke, hungry for her first meal of the day. A part of her urged caution, warning her to slip out of bed now before Abe roused. From the care he’d taken earlier in the night, he’d likely be embarrassed to find himself wrapped around her and handling her so intimately.
But the other part of her wanted to stay right where she was for a few more minutes so she could relish the security of his hold along with the delicious sensations humming through her blood.
From the sagging of the mattress and the rope frame that held it, she supposed it was inevitable they’d end up together in the middle. In fact, noticing the way she’d rounded her body, she was embarrassed at her own brazenness in melting into his embrace.
At a deep exhalation, he shifted his head closer so she could feel his breath against her neck.
Tingles shimmied down her spine. And unexpected warmth unfurled in her stomach. She closed her eyes and let herself simply bask in his closeness, unwilling to bring the moment to an end. In some deep part of her, she knew this was what she wanted and where she wanted to be. But she also sensed the fragility of the hold, that one wrong move could snap the few threads binding them together.
Violet gave a soft squeak, the telltale sign she was beginning to awaken.
Abe shifted again, stirring with a soft, contented noise that made her melt even more. A second later, though, he stiffened and jerked his arm and leg off her, apparently no longer asleep. In the same motion, he rolled away, putting space between their bodies.
“Zoe?” he whispered.
“Hmmm?”
“You’re awake?”
“Aye.”
He groaned softly.
She rolled so she could see his outline next to her by the early light of dawn.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to—didn’t intend to . . . well, you know.”
“You didn’t mean to snuggle with me?” She tried to keep her whisper light and teasing.
“The problem is with the bed,” he whispered hurriedly. “I’ll take a look at the frame today and see if I can fix it.”
“It’s alright, Abe.�
�� Once the words were out, a flush flooded her chest and cheeks. She sounded wanton. “What I mean is that without Violet to snuggle with, I appreciated having the warmth.”
He didn’t respond for a moment.
Violet squeaked again, this time louder. Zoe pushed herself up, letting the covers fall away, but Abe’s touch against her arm stopped her. “I’ll tend to her.”
“She needs a bottle.”
“I can get it ready.”
“But I don’t want to bother you.”
“I want to do it.” His voice was earnest.
She shivered against the chill of the cabin.
He tugged the covers back up. “Then you can stay in bed until I get the cabin heated.”
“How can I argue with that?”
As Abe rose from bed, she wanted to reach for him and draw him back. Instead, she burrowed deeper under the covers, knowing she had to be more careful. She was starting to like Abe too much. And she suspected such feelings would only lead to heartache and trouble.
twenty-three
The level flooded land near the river provided a hockey rink, and Zoe stood with the other spectators along the side and cheered as the puck slid across the ice into the goal.
Abe raised his broomstick in a sign of victory and grinned at his teammates. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold and exertion of the game. With the afternoon sunshine glinting off his fair hair, he’d never looked more rugged and handsome, and Zoe’s heart pattered faster with both pride and admiration.
Abe was the best player on either team. He was strong and fast and aggressive. And yet, he’d proven himself to be fair and kind not only to his teammates but also to the other players.
“Good game, Pastor Abe.” One of the miners on the opposite team shook Abe’s hand. “You won fair enough this time.”
Abe traded compliments and wove among the men, backslapping with his usual good-natured affection.
