What Once Was Lost

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Levi paused in carving a rose petal into the fragrant piece of cedar and glanced at Tommy. The boy hummed as he twisted the ends of two lengths of reed across each other. A smile grew on his face of its own volition. How good to see Tommy’s cheerful countenance restored.

  Such a time of healing the two of them had shared the past few days. The boy had asked forgiveness for keeping silent about smelling Dresden’s cigar when Francis accompanied him to the outhouse the night the poor farm caught fire. He’d wept, his face pressed to Levi’s chest, and lamented how much trouble could have been avoided if he’d told instead of allowing fear to keep him quiet. Levi had assured the boy he shouldn’t carry regret and said, “From now on we’ll trust each other, yes?” And with a shuddering sob, Tommy had agreed.

  With the release of regret, peacefulness descended. Levi sent up a quick, grateful prayer for the lessons learned and then set aside his tools. He strode across the floor and put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Levi examined the frame and woven pattern formed by thin strips of reed. He shook his head, awed. Tommy’s nimble fingers, keen sense of touch, and abundance of determination had brought success.

  “You did it, Tommy. It’s perfect.”

  The boy beamed upward, his head bobbing in excitement. “It is?”

  “It is. I’m so proud of you.”

  “I can do the chair now?”

  Levi ruffled the boy’s hair. He needed a haircut. But then, so did Levi. They’d both get one so they’d look spit-shined and presentable when he delivered his gift to Christina. “You know what, Tommy? You already did.”

  Tommy’s mouth fell open.

  Levi chuckled. “That frame I made for you to practice with the reeds will fit the opening in the seat. So now all I have to do is pry out the old one and put the new one in its place.”

  Tommy jumped up and pounded the air with both fists. “I did it!” His flailing brought one hand against Levi’s arm. He gripped Levi’s shirt. “Can we show Miss Willems? Huh? I want her to see what I done.” Then his excitement faded. “But she might still be mad at me … for telling that lie about her to the sheriff.”

  “She won’t be mad,” Levi said, certainty squaring his shoulders.

  Tommy’s expression didn’t clear. “You sure? ’Cause of me, she got put in jail. She oughta be powerful mad.”

  Levi slung his arm around Tommy’s shoulders and pulled him close, emotion clogging his throat. “She won’t be mad, Tommy. She loves you too much not to forgive you.”

  Tommy blinked, his cheek pressed to Levi’s chest. “Even after all I done?”

  “She’ll never stop loving you, Tommy.” Levi’s heart swelled. Christina loved the boy the way God loved Levi. Tommy just needed to accept its offering.

  Tommy snuffled and pulled loose. “Then I wanna show her. Can we go?”

  The desire to see Christina nearly turned Levi’s chest inside out. But he couldn’t go yet. Not until he had his own project finished. A man needed more than a few flowery words when he asked a woman to become his life partner. And he wasn’t ready yet. He pulled Tommy into another hug. “Soon, Tommy.”

  The boy wriggled in Levi’s light embrace. “When? Tomorrow?”

  Levi looked at his workbench. He’d spent the last three days ignoring everything except this special project. Just like Tommy, he wanted his work to be perfect. A load of logs still waited on the riverbank. More logs were piled in the yard, ready for cutting. But he wouldn’t touch any of it until he’d finished this gift.

  Apparently Tommy grew tired of waiting for an answer. He tugged at Levi’s shirt and demanded, “When? Tomorrow? Saturday? Sunday?”

  Levi considered the amount of work remaining. He could have it done by Saturday, but wouldn’t it be better to wait until Sunday? The Lord’s day, when they would gather for worship. He’d go in his best suit, meet her in the churchyard with his gift in his hands. Then after he’d made his intentions known and she’d accepted—she would accept, wouldn’t she?—they’d enter the church together for worship.

  Anticipating the moment gave him tremors.

  “Mr. Jonnson!” Tommy’s patience had worn out.

  Levi laughed and pulled Tommy backward against his hip in a mock wrestling hold. “I hear you, I hear you. You can show her Sunday, all right? Now, scoot over there”—he landed a light pat on the boy’s backside—“and clean up your mess. Can’t leave those little pieces of reed all over my nice clean floor.”

  Laughing, Tommy returned to his corner of the mill, dropped to his knees, and did as Levi had requested. Levi turned back to his own work. He touched the partially completed rose, and his chest expanded. Sunday … Three more days. He hoped his heart could wait that long.

  Saturday morning, as Christina stood at the washstand in her hotel room fastening her hair into its usual twist, a light tap sounded on the door. At once hope rose in her chest—could it be Levi and Tommy? She’d missed them terribly these past days. Jamming the last tortoiseshell comb into place, she scurried to the door and opened it. Her hopes immediately plummeted. Ben stood in the hallway, his hands locked behind his back and a bright smile on his narrow face.

  He took one look at her, and his smile drooped. “You look as though you lost your best friend.”

  He had no idea how astute he was. She sighed. “I’m terribly sorry. I was expecting someone else.”

  “Ah.” Ben nodded, his expression wise. “Well, perhaps the next visitor will be the one to put the sparkle in your eyes again. In the meantime”—he withdrew one hand from behind his back and held out a long, thick envelope—“this can keep you company.”

  The promised letter … Christina took it, curiosity rising. Although she’d repeatedly asked Ben what business Mr. Dunnigan needed to complete with her, he’d remained aggravatingly vague. She fingered it, eager to tear it open. “Are you to read it with me?”

  He held up both hands, his smile wide. “My work here is done. As a matter of fact,”—he pulled a watch from his pocket and clicked open the case—“my train will leave in less than thirty minutes. So now is when I tell you good-bye, Miss Christina Willems.” He captured her hand, slipping something into her palm as he leaned forward and kissed her knuckles. He straightened and offered a teasing wink. “Serving you has been a distinct pleasure. I wish you much success in your future endeavors.” Then without offering her a chance to reply, he released her hand, turned, and briskly strode to the stairway.

  Christina turned her hand over, and joy exploded in a gasp. Papa’s watch! He’d regained it for her! She hugged it to her chest, its steady tick, tick matching the tempo of her heartbeat. She closed her eyes, savoring the wonder of reunion. Then, wanting to offer a thank-you, she scampered after Ben. But she’d waited too long. His long legs had already carried him away. Slowly she returned to her room, cradling the watch in one palm and holding the letter in the other.

  Settling herself on the foot of the bed, she returned Papa’s watch to its chain and hung it around her neck. Its weight rested comfortably against her bodice. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the reunion, and then finally slipped her finger beneath the flap of the envelope. She removed the contents and unfolded the letter. A single thin slip of paper slid from her grip and landed, facedown, on the floor. She’d retrieve it later. The typewritten words on the pages in her hand begged her attention.

  Dear Miss Willems,

  By now you must realize the poor farm house, outbuildings, and surrounding land have a new owner, namely myself. You must also wonder why I would go to such lengths to procure such a property and keep it secret. Well, now is the time for my secrets to be unveiled, and I trust when you have completed the reading of this missive, you will forgive me for my rather clandestine arrangements.

  You see, Miss Willems, although I enjoy wealth and the honor of high society, that was not always the case. My early life was quite dismal, being born to a woman in very poor health and to a man who was a common laborer. When I was but a toddler, my mot
her passed away, and my father could not care for me. So I was given over to an orphanage. Being very young and charmingly handsome (so I was told),

  Christina giggled aloud. What a proclamation!

  I was adopted fairly quickly by the Dunnigan family, who, although already parenting two children of their own, never treated me as an outsider. I was quite loved, and upon the death of my adoptive father, I received an equal inheritance.

  Just as your parents impressed upon you the importance of benevolence, I was raised with the same expectation. My father’s most oft-quoted admonition was “To whom much is given, much is expected.”

  Therefore, I have sought to honor him by sharing my wealth. For years I’ve harbored a very personal desire to do something specifically for children who are left without the tender care of parents. The crossing of our pathways finally allowed me the opportunity to see my long-held aspiration to completion.

  In speaking with the director of the mission board, Mr. Regehr, I realized the property would be dispensed with. Thus, knowing you would be displaced regardless of who purchased it, I chose to act hastily and secure it not only for me but for you as well. Have I completely befuddled you by now, Miss Willems?

  A smile pulled at her lips, and she shook her head, imagining the man’s impish smirk as he tapped out the question. Bending back over the page, she continued reading.

  The house will no longer serve as a poor farm but as a refuge for orphaned children. I would like to make available to you the position of headmistress if you’re so inclined to accept it. If not, I shall proceed with securing another able woman or perhaps a couple to assume leadership. (Initially, I assumed you would leap at this opportunity, but I have since learned from Ben Edgar that perhaps another opportunity, one involving matrimony, might be forthcoming.)

  Christina slapped the pages to her chest, heat filling her face. Why had Ben told Mr. Dunnigan such a preposterous thing! But then again, was it preposterous? Oh, how her heart yearned to hear words of love from Levi’s lips. But she couldn’t dwell on unrequited longings. This offer of Mr. Dunnigan’s was solid, tapped in black ink on white parchment. She’d received nothing remotely close to a promise from Levi.

  Pushing aside the melancholy wiggling its way through her middle, she opened the letter once more and read it through to the end.

  And so, Miss Willems, when the work is completed and I have a staff available, the doors will be opened to the Dunnigan Orphans’ Asylum. I pray you understand now my interest in the house and my need to keep quiet my dealings until all was approved. I have taken the liberty of enclosing a money order in the sum of fifty dollars to serve as your first month’s salary as headmistress.

  Stunned, Christina lifted the piece of paper from the floor. Just as Mr. Dunnigan had indicated, it was a money order made out in her name. Fifty dollars! He would pay her this amount each month? She’d never dreamed of receiving such an extravagant salary. She lay the money order on the bed and returned to the letter.

  Should you choose not to take the position, please accept the money as a token of my appreciation for your wonderful care of my dear son and daughter and use it to fund your new beginning.

  I remain your faithful servant,

  Mr. Maxwell Dunnigan

  Below his flamboyant signature, a postscript written in bold and somewhat sloppy penmanship filled the bottom of the page.

  P.S. I have taken yet one more liberty and inquired of the Kansas City School for the Blind about an availability for Tommy. They assure me they can enroll him for the coming year. It would delight me to cover his expenses there, should you decide to have him attend. I believe the school would do an excellent job of teaching him the greatest level of independence. When you reply concerning the position as headmistress, you may tell me your desire concerning Tommy’s education.

  Such a giving man was Mr. Maxwell Dunnigan. He’d certainly taken his father’s admonition to heart. Christina reeled, considering everything he’d done thus far and all he wanted to do. He’d made fine offers, and accepting them would ensure a home for her and a bright future for Tommy. What should she do?

  In response to her inner pondering, she recalled her father’s sage counsel. She slipped to her knees beside the bed, folded her hands, closed her eyes, and petitioned her heavenly Father for guidance.

  Chapter 46

  The church bell beckoned Christina as she walked toward the building for morning service. Already people milled in the yard, putting their heads together and visiting while waiting to go inside. In past weeks their chatter had held notes of condemnation and distrust. Her feet slowed in their brisk pace, the memory of the hurt inflicted by her fellow townsmen rising up to torment her. Should she escape back to the hotel? But the peace she’d discovered yesterday evening during prayer crept over her once more, offering strength. She had no reason to hide. No matter what others chose to do, she would worship the God who had welcomed her back into fellowship.

  Her chin high, she clutched her Bible in the crook of her arm and marched forward, nodding a greeting to any who turned her way. When she reached the stone pathway leading to the church’s porch, a subtle hush fell across the waiting folks. All heads turned in one direction. A few dropped their jaws in surprise. She came to a halt, unease sending a prickle across her scalp. But they weren’t gaping at her.

  Curious, Christina looked in the same direction, and her heart leaped like a nimble deer. Levi Jonnson, his tawny blond hair combed back from his forehead in a smooth sweep, set the brake on his wagon. He stood, revealing his attire, and Christina was captured by the sight. Without deliberate thought she examined him by increments, beginning with the dark trousers, which set off his long, muscular thighs. A dove-gray jacket fit his torso the way skin fit a potato and emphasized the breadth of his shoulders. Beneath his clean-shaven chin, a black floppy bow tie nestled within the folds of his crisp white collar.

  Her limbs went weak. This cultured, handsome gentleman? This was Levi?

  But then she received a glimpse of the mill owner as he placed his hand on the edge of the seat and gave a lithe leap that brought the soles of his polished black boots to the ground. He glanced down his length, swatting at his legs to dispel dust, and when he raised his head again, his gaze met hers. A soft smile formed on his handsome face.

  Looking upon his perfect appearance, she became aware of a strand of hair tugged loose by the Kansas breeze. She lifted her hand and fussily pushed the waving lock behind her ear. His eyes seemed to follow her gesture, and a knowing expression crept across his face. Was he thinking of their time on the swing when he’d tucked her hair into place?

  She’d never been as aware of another person as she was of Levi Jonnson in that moment. Everything else—the townspeople, the endless wind releasing her hair from its spot once more, even the resounding toll of the church bell—faded away until it seemed all that existed in the world was Levi and her. What was happening to her?

  Levi suddenly turned and strode to the back of the wagon. Christina tipped her head in his direction, unwilling to lose sight of him. He reached into its bed, the fabric of his suit jacket going taut across his back, and he lifted something out—something rectangular, wooden, and richly stained. Then he turned toward her, cradling in his wide hands a beautifully crafted box with carved feet resembling an eagle’s claws.

  New murmurs broke out behind her, reminding her of the presence of the parishioners, but she kept her gaze riveted on Levi. He walked slowly toward her, dust rising with each step. She wanted to move forward, to meet him partway, but her quivering legs seemed incapable of carrying her. So she stood still on the boardwalk, her breath releasing in tiny puffs and her chest rising and falling with such quickening she feared she might swoon.

  He stepped onto the boardwalk and stopped directly in front of her. His eyes glittered, the gold and green flecks prominent in his irises of blue. Not a word left his lips, but his eyes spoke volumes. Christina became lost in the sweet message flowing fr
om his fervent gaze. His arms lifted slowly, holding the box toward her, and his chin gave a subtle bob, as if inviting her to see what he held.

  She accepted the silent invitation. Carving decorated the top of the box—delicate swirls and intricate roses. And in the center, carefully formed letters proclaimed a scripture from the Song of Solomon.

  RISE UP, MY LOVE, MY FAIR ONE,

  AND COME AWAY.

  FOR, LO, THE WINTER IS PAST.

  Her hand flew upward, her fingertips covering her trembling lips. Her gaze bounced from the beautiful carving to Levi’s handsome face. In a voice so tender it raised a rush of tears in her eyes, he said, “Christina, I love you. I’ve moved beyond the bitter cold and am ready for a new beginning. Will you partner with me in a fresh start? Will you become my wife?”

  Christina drew in a deep breath, basking in the wonder of the moment—of this man declaring his love to her. She opened her mouth, words of acceptance on her tongue, when Tommy suddenly sat up in the wagon bed and grabbed the tall side.

  “Hurry up an’ answer, Miss Willems, ’cause I got somethin’ to show you, too!”

  Laughter exploded behind Christina—loud and intrusive. And she couldn’t resist joining in. Levi’s grin spread across his face, and then he tucked the box under one arm and swept her into a hug with the other, lifting her onto her toes. Her arms around his neck, she exclaimed in his ear, “Yes! Yes, Levi! Yes!”

  And finally his lips found hers, the kiss firm and warm and possessive. Christina never wanted it to end, but fortunately Levi exhibited greater restraint. He lowered her feet to the boardwalk, his arm remaining loosely around her waist, and brushed a kiss across her forehead. Nose to nose, he whispered, “You’d better go see what Tommy has, and then we need to head inside before Reverend Huntley thinks the entire town has deserted him.”