“What are all these things?” she asked, gesturing to numerous tools hanging from pegs on a rough wood wall above Hal’s bench.
“It’s everything I need for building furniture.” He lifted a chisel and told her it was a socket chisel.
And then he gave Nancy his abbreviations for grading lumber, and she made a reference list in his journal. As he worked, Nancy took notes, documenting his process, time and expense related to each piece of furniture he had recently built for Edwards. With each new tool Hal used, he gave Nancy a quick education. She learned about joining tools like a smoothing plane and a Tenon saw. Hal had other furniture making tools, too. A compass saw and a keyhole saw and pinchers and awls and augers and gimlets and gouges, and a multitude of chisels she couldn’t remember the names of, as well as levels and mallets and an ax-like tool he called an adze either hanging on the wall or stored in drawers and crates.
Her poor mind was awhirl, but her heart was soaring. Hal was working hard, but he seemed to be enjoying their time together as much as she was. He was playful with his instruction and had even pretended to use one of his gouges on her side, tickling her and making squirm away in a fit of laughter. It was as if here in the cozy wood scented workroom, he could shut out the world and allow his grieving heart a moment of lightness.
Even Captain seemed to sense a difference in Hal, because the little rascal kept swatting playfully at Hal’s hand each time he reached for a tool. Hal’s amused chuckle warmed Nancy’s heart. He threatened to banish Captain from the barn, but she knew he was jesting.
In the face of Hal’s threat, Captain just yawned and stretched his lithe body across Hal’s chisels.
Hal turned to her, shaking his head in amazement. “Are you giving him lessons on how to distract me?”
She laughed. “Although I’m in awe and rightly proud of Captain, I can’t claim any of the credit for his behavior.”
The evening flew by with Hal working and Nancy taking notes and the two of them talking about safe subjects like his work and her garden and the aloof and disdainful Captain.
The evening grew late and Hal stretched his back for a final time. He laid his tools on the bench and turned and cupped his palms beneath Nancy’s elbows, bringing her to her feet — and the two of them face-to-face.
Nancy’s breath caught and she barely moved. Would he kiss her after all?
He smiled a tired smile and gazed down at her, a new warm and tender look in his eyes. “Thank you for all your help and for making an evening of work feel like an evening of play.” He lowered his head then... and Nancy held her breath in anticipation.
His lips pressed to her cheek, warm and tender. His hair tickled her nose and smelled of fresh air and wood shavings. “Goodnight, Nancy. I’ll be in shortly,” he said, stepping away.
For a moment she stared in stunned disappointment. She ached to feel the comforting warmth of his arms and the tender connection she’d felt blooming between them.
But she walked through the chilly evening alone.
She entered her new home alone.
She went to bed…alone.
Chapter Sixteen
July sunshine warmed Nancy’s shoulders, but she felt chilled and heavy-hearted as she and Hal walked home after Sunday morning service. The Tucker’s had invited them to stop in for tea, but Nancy pleaded a headache because... well, she felt lonely and miserably homesick.
It had been well over a month since she’d last seen or confided in her sister or felt her mother’s warm hug or heard her father’s amused chuckle during one of their lively debates. Her father had delighted in her spirit... and she had delighted in his adoration. Leaving her family had cut deep into her heart and the bleeding was growing more profuse and more painful by the day.
“Shall we walk a bit further?” Hal asked, giving her arm a light pat as if to draw her thoughts back to the present. “I need to retrieve my tally sheet from the mill. Won’t take but a minute.”
She struggled to dredge up a smile. “You go on without me. I need to change. It’s getting warm and I don’t want to soil my dress.”
“All right then, I’ll return shortly,” he said, leaving her at the end of their driveway.
She watched him continue out Liberty Street, his long legs quickly eating the distance. Would he return shortly as promised? Or would he get caught up in some project or another and leave her home alone?
Sighing, she went inside. After slaking her thirst with a small glass of water, she wandered into her bedroom to change. Unmindful of the open door, she stood in her corset, chemise, and drawers, looking around the barren room, feeling wretchedly alone. Although Hal had been more attentive and kind of late, she still spent the majority of her days and nights alone.
Nancy tossed her dress onto the bed. If only her sister were here, they would share lively conversations and would laugh until their cheeks and stomachs hurt. But this coming Saturday, for the first time in their lives, she and Elizabeth would celebrate their seventeenth birthday without each other. That day had always been met with joy and celebration by their parents, and by them. Memories of the many girlish talks and youthful dreams she and Elizabeth had shared brought a smile to Nancy’s lips.
And then they made her cry.
With her face in hands, Nancy wept, recalling her last glimpse of home. She had left to spare her sister a lifetime of heartache and herself an unbearable marriage, but her own heart bled and she longed for a pair of comforting arms to hold her.
Hal’s concerned voice came from the open doorway. “Nancy? Are you all right?”
She spun to face him, shocked to find him home, embarrassed to be caught with tears soaking her face. Unable to speak, she turned her back to him and bit down on her lip.
“Are you in pain? Shall I fetch a doctor?”
“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice wobbled and she wasn’t at all fine.
Ignoring her state of undress, he strode into the room as if they were a real married couple. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “You’re terrifying me, Nancy. Are you ailing?”
The arms she’d longed for were her husband’s and they felt strong and capable and exactly right as he held her against him. His firm chest was wonderfully warm against her cheek. Fresh air and soap clung to his neck and collar. For a moment, she simply clung to him, needing his tenderness and supportive embrace, needing to know she wasn’t alone and unwanted.
“You’re trembling,” he said, his breath warm against her ear. “What troubles you, darling?”
For an instant she thought to say something inane or to blame her upset on a headache, but doing so would push him away. And she desperately needed the moment of intimacy and so she told him the truth. “I’m homesick,” she whispered, loathing herself for her momentary weakness. “And I’m angry with my father. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t seem to get hold of my emotions today. I’m sorry.”
“No, Nancy, I’m sorry,” he said, and she could hear regret in his apology. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own troubles I haven’t given a thought to how difficult all of this must be for you. Of course you miss your family. I miss mine, too, and I should have been more considerate of your feelings.”
She leaned back in his arms and met his eyes. “Of course you understand because... Oh, Hal, I’m so sorry. I’d never met John Radford so he’s not often at the forefront of my mind, but I know his absence weighs heavily on your heart. I feel positively selfish indulging in my own small discomforts while you’re soldiering on so bravely.”
Hal’s jaw clamped; his eyes dark pools of grief. “That doesn’t mean you’re not entitled to your feelings as well, Nancy.”
“I’m being childish,” she whispered. She suddenly realized her state of undress and the inappropriateness of conversing in her undergarments. Face burning, she stepped away. “I’m acting like a foolish girl and being wholly inappropriate.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I need to dress.”
“Bein
g homesick doesn’t mean you’re being childish.” Instead of leaving the room, he pulled a quilt off the bed and draped it around her shoulders. “Could any of those tears in your eyes be for Stuart Newmaine?” he asked, shocking her with his question and the change of subject. “Do you miss him?”
“What? No,” she said with certainty. “I had no feelings for him whatsoever.”
He cocked his head and studied her. “Then you’re not crying over another man?”
She opened her mouth to assure him that, no, she wasn’t weeping for another man, but as the truth dawned a new surge of emotion flooded her eyes with tears. Her father had betrayed her trust and that betrayal lay at the root of everything. Horrified by another flood of tears, she clapped her hand over her mouth.
For the second time, Hal drew her into his comforting embrace. This time, however, he simply held her and let her pour out her heartache. She told him how she and her father would debate everything from how to best set up an account ledger to what a woman’s proper place was in the world. She challenged him at every turn, raising his blood pressure one minute and reducing him to belly laughter the next. He spoiled her and indulged her every request — until the day she asked to be released from her arranged courtship and ultimate marriage to Stuart Newmaine.
“He wouldn’t hear of it,” Nancy said, wiping her eyes. “I couldn’t tell him that Stuart and Elizabeth had been stealing time alone each Tuesday afternoon when Stuart met with my father. He would have forbidden Stuart to call again, and it would have broken Elizabeth’s heart. So I told him I didn’t love Stuart and debated with him about the logic of the arrangement and pleaded and pushed my father to acquiesce. But all I succeeded at was pushing him to the limits of his patience. He grew so vexed with me he forbade me to speak to him again until I could mind my tongue.”
“I’m sure that hurt you deeply,” Hal said.
The painful memory left her shaking her head in confusion. “It doesn’t make sense why he would be so protective and indulgent all my life and then refuse me the thing I wanted most. I know that sounds childish, but it wasn’t the fact that he wouldn’t give in to my demands that upset me. It’s that he couldn’t see that he was breaking my heart by pushing me into a relationship I didn’t want. Even Mother intervened on my behalf, but he claimed I was young and dramatic and would soon see that Mr. Newmaine was the perfect man for me. That’s when I realized Daddy couldn’t be moved off his position on the subject, and I was honestly stunned. It was the first time my father had refused me anything. I know it’s selfish of me, but I felt betrayed that day. His refusal to end what could only become a disaster on all fronts forced me to leave a home and family I love.” She bit her lip. “That’s why I feel betrayed and angry and... homesick.”
“I’ve been a selfish fool,” Hal said, drawing his hands down her forearms to clasp her hands in his. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own troubles I’ve been blind to your struggle. I’m sorry, Nancy.” He drew her against him and gave her a gentle hug. “Truly, I apologize. I’m usually a better man than I’ve been.”
She wanted to stay in Hal’s arms forever, but she heard his stomach growl... and she had already said too much. Hal had his own troubles and didn’t need to be burdened with hers. And she didn’t need him to start asking questions she couldn’t answer. Lifting her chin, she stepped away and clutched the quilt around her shoulders. “Let’s forget about apologies and tears for the day and I’ll get dressed and prepare our lunch.”
“I have a better suggestion. Put on a walking dress. I have something I want to show you.” In two strides he was at the door. “I’ll fetch some of the cold chicken and biscuits we had for supper and we can take our lunch with us. I know the perfect spot to eat.” With that, he was gone.
Chapter Seventeen
As Hal guided Nancy across a worn path through the grassy field behind their house, his mind was in turmoil. He was worried about her and the secrets she was keeping. He knew there was something she wasn’t sharing with him, but was she keeping it to herself because she wasn’t yet comfortable with him? Or because it was something too terrible to share?
That thought bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
But Nancy’s heartache wasn’t the only issue burdening Hal’s mind on what was otherwise a beautiful summer day. He couldn’t afford to sacrifice desperately needed work hours to take a walk, no matter how blue the sky or how refreshing the breeze. It was Sunday and he knew shouldn’t be working today, but the hard truth was if he didn’t work every day, he couldn’t put food on the table. That thought made him think about his recent conversation with Thomas Drake, who was pressing Hal to lease his sawmill out for a year.
Leasing the mill to Drake would be an intelligent solution to the overwhelming load of work that burdened Hal’s mind and body nearly every minute of every day. Drake was willing to pay a healthy fee to lease the mill for twelve months. Hal wasn’t even making that much running the mill, mostly because he was doing it alone.
Hal had never wanted to own or run a sawmill – that was John Radford’s dream. And yet Hal found himself doing just that, and all the while his dream of building furniture was getting buried beneath the burden of the mill. He finally understood his father’s struggle as the desire to work on his craft continued to be supplanted by the needs of the mill and providing for his family. Leasing the mill to Drake would provide enough monthly income to allow Hal to focus on building furniture and a life with his wife. It would be a wise decision.
But the thought of turning the mill over to anyone twisted Hal’s gut. He’d promised John they would build a successful mill together. For Hal to consider abandoning that dream, for even a brief time, was like abandoning his brother and killing the memory of their shared dream.
He couldn’t do it.
“You’re awfully deep in thought,” Nancy remarked, startling him out of the basement of his mind where he’d been rooting around for answers that just weren’t there.
Her puffy, red eyes tugged at his heart and he felt ashamed that his thoughts had drifted to other matters when he needed to be attentive to his wife.
Her hand still trembled slightly in the crook of his arm and told him he needed to be here physically and mentally with her. She’d done so much for him, supported him all these many weeks. And today she needed him. So he would lay aside all else and give her a day to remember. She deserved that much.
Adjusting the picnic basket on his arm, he said, “You can blame this path for carrying my thoughts away. Seems every time I walk this field, I end up on the other side wondering how I got there.”
Her smile pleased him and made him feel as if he’d done something good for her. “It’s easy to understand how one can get lost in thought here. It’s so peaceful,” she said.
It was peaceful, and they both seemed to enjoy listening to the twitter and chirping of the birds, the buzzing of bumble bees dipping into clusters of beebalm and wild chives that grew in the field.
Hal drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling his tight shoulders unlock. The deep, vibrant green grasses of the pasture behind his home gave way to the shaded deep greens and browns of the woods. They walked a wooded path that led along the steep bank of Canadaway Creek. Birdsong mingled with the burbling sounds of the creek. Periodic yelping of a distant fox interrupted from time to time. A rustling in the underbrush along the creek betrayed the presence of a wayward raccoon or some other creature trying to remain hidden.
Hal and Nancy continued their walk in companionable silence. He couldn’t help but smile at that thought – they were companions. His life had certainly been upended by Nancy’s arrival.
The bright blue sky was now muted by tree branches heavily covered with their full summer leaves. Splotches of sunlight danced on the hard dirt beneath their feet.
“Step carefully, Nancy,” he cautioned, gesturing toward the jutting tree roots growing across the path.
She lifted her skirt a little higher and
gracefully stepped over them.
At times, he would reach out and place a supportive hand on Nancy’s elbow, or a guiding hand on the small of her back. He found himself relishing the opportunity to touch his wife, even in these little ways. Despite her starch and backbone, she was a gentle and compassionate woman, and to see her in tears had torn at his heart. He understood her homesickness and wished he could take away her heartache. He was sorry for her pain, but he was secretly relieved to know that her tears hadn’t been for a love she’d left back home.
“Gracious, how I’ve missed walking through grassy fields and pine-scented woods,” she said. “I haven’t taken such a walk in months.”
Despite her earlier tears, however, Nancy’s heart seemed lighter. Her steps beside him were lively, as if the walk was rejuvenating her spirit as it always did his. Perhaps the setting calmed her as much as it did him. She seemed content not to talk much as they walked; a quality he appreciated today while his mind was burdened with problems. He wasn’t an overly talkative man himself and appreciated that Nancy recognized it was simply his way and that it bore no reflection on her company.
“This is such a treat today. It’s just so lovely here,” he heard Nancy say, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hal smiled down at her. He had thought the walk would sooth her heartache and was pleased that she was taking as much comfort from the jaunt as he was. “In the months I’ve lived here, I’ve walked all over this town, and this is one of my favorite places.”
“I can understand why. I hope you don’t mind sharing it with me.”
He looked down and was rewarded with her smile. “I’m honored, Nancy.”
They walked a few moments longer, each enjoying the setting and the leisure to drift in their own thoughts a while.
Always and Forever Page 14
