Callie watched the humble woman leave and realized she was relieved that other than to ask her to stand with them at the burial service, Ruth hadn’t really spoken much about the infants.
She dozed off until Sarah returned from MaryBeth’s. They passed the rest of the day carding wool and kneading bread, being careful not to talk about Sophie Ruth. After eating, Callie began to feel better physically, and Sarah caught her up on the goings-on at the mission, at least the ones important to her young mind.
Callie’s weariness returned by evening, and her meal consisted of a slice of bread with butter on it. Her arms and legs felt as if she had been dragged for miles by a horse-drawn wagon; and as soon as she lay on her bed, she fell into a deep sleep.
It seemed she had no more than closed her eyes before she was awake again. Dawn’s soft light had climbed the yellowed paper covering the one window. In the distance she could hear the familiar crows of roosters welcoming the day.
Swinging her legs over the bedside, she wished she had not awakened so early, as it only gave her more time to decide if she would go to the funeral. She had no real reason to stay home. The nausea she had experienced yesterday had passed and all that remained was bone-weary despair.
Callie’s subconscious pleaded with her to remember what Suzannah must be feeling. In the end, the thought of her closest friend saying farewell to another child convinced her she must go. She would stand with the family as Ruth had asked, regardless of the pain she felt herself.
Chapter 8
Your eyes look sad,” Sarah commented as they made their way north on the hard-packed dirt trail to the cemetery called God’s Acres.
“Thanks for not mentioning how red they are,” Callie replied. Once she was up and about, she had spent the morning crying for Suzannah and the children she had borne but never had the opportunity to love.
She didn’t know which was worse, losing a child or losing your parents. It was a question she had often asked over the last few years. How can you mourn what you cannot remember having? she often scolded herself as she lay tossing and turning in her bed.
She glanced down at the dreary gray dress she wore. It seemed to mirror the low clouds that encompassed as much of the sky as she could see, and was even plainer than normal today without its slash-of-white bib that she had taken off as a sign of mourning.
She joined the quiet crowd gathered around the tiny wound in the earth. Most of them wiped at their eyes periodically and sent short glances down the path as they waited for the grieving parents to arrive.
For lack of anything better to do, Callie took the opportunity to examine the land she had come to call home. Tall, elegant oak and walnut trees seemed to bow under the weight of the sorrow they were witnessing. Only a gentle breeze filtered through them, as if they knew a harsher wind might undo the shattered hearts in attendance.
Then the Solomons could be seen coming, and an ominous silence settled over the gathering. People moved into place, hands linked with hands. The words of the mercifully short service Brother David preached trembled through Callie’s heart. She stood to Ruth Lyons’s right, holding her own sorrow at bay by concentrating on the way Ruth conducted herself.
She had marveled more than once at how someone who had lost grandchildren could remain so serene as they huddled in a light drizzle to lay another babe to rest in Jesus’ arms.
Callie’s heart melted twice; once when she saw Abe’s arms tenderly surround his wife, and again when she heard Hannah Grace’s soft mewing sounds in the background.
First the family, then the others who could bear to do so, threw handfuls of dirt on top of the cradleboard wrapped in several layers of buckskin as they passed by the hole in the earth. All too soon a patch of brown dirt joined the others in the section reserved for female children—set apart by tradition from the men, women, and boys.
Callie viewed through misty eyes the two earlier graves of the Solomon children, noting that grass had refused to grow on them. There should be flowers, she thought, renewing an earlier vow to plant something there. As she stared at the plot allotted to Sophie Ruth, all she could think was that the three Solomon children were together in death as they had never been in life. And she had been present at each of their births, unable to change the tragic outcomes. Her heart contracted brutally at the thought.
She started to ease away from Ruth’s side when a hand came to rest lightly on her upper arm. She turned, thinking it was Sarah. From the moment she first gazed into the anguish she saw in Joshua’s gaze, she was lost.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She forced a tight smile as she tried to recover from the hurt she saw on his face. She hadn’t given a thought to how deeply losing the child might touch him, but the evidence was there for all to see. His normally bright blue eyes were twilight dark, and his characteristic smile was missing. She realized she did not like seeing him without that smile.
“I will be all right,” she finally responded. “Why do you ask?”
“Because Sarah mentioned yesterday that you were not feeling well.”
“You do not have to worry about me.” She glanced around to find her sister chatting with friends. “And Sarah says too many things she should not say.”
“That is possible, but I …”
“Yes?”
“I worry about you.”
Joshua’s words surprised her, but with them a strange sense of comfort settled over her tattered soul; she tried to ignore it.
“Well, there is no need. I am fine.”
She lightly brushed with her hand at a stray curl that had fallen from her bonnet and wondered silently if he was staring at her red eyes or at the warm color she could feel splashing her cheeks.
“I have done this before, you know,” she said.
“Yes, but that does not mean it does not hurt.”
At a loss for words, Callie gave him a cursory glance. Joshua’s lean frame was attired in a mud-brown jacket and trousers. He had shaved this morning, and a small cut ran under his chin. She had the urge to reach up and smooth her finger across it. She resisted.
Anyone looking at him would see a well-mannered individual with deep worry lines creasing his forehead. He was no longer the stranger he had been a few short weeks ago. With the slight beard he had been growing gone, he somehow looked more mature. And her feelings toward him were not as clear as they had been when he first came to town.
Realizing that he, too, must have suffered through the last few days, Callie almost admitted how desolate she felt. She stopped short. To do so would be to admit to him that she couldn’t handle this on her own. And she could, she reminded herself; she did not need others to help her make it through tough times.
“Dying is a fact of life,” she said. “Especially out here in the wilds where there are so many things that can go wrong.”
Joshua arched his eyebrows. “That is true, but there is more to death than dying. And having said that, are you coming to the meeting house for the gathering?”
“The meeting house? I do not think so.” If she did, she would end up having to speak with Suzannah, and she was certain she wouldn’t be able to think of a thing to say.
“Afraid someone will point at you and say it was all your fault? There were two of us there, Callie. You were not at fault on your own.” His words left her shaken.
A rustle of bodies pressed toward them. Callie knew the rest of those gathered there were preparing to leave. She sought her sister and found her immediately, standing with Levi and staring up into his eyes with admiration.
Callie also caught the disgruntled glances of several other women who were looking Sarah’s way. Callie tried to catch her sister’s eye by waving her hand, but failed. Sarah was oblivious to everyone else.
“She is not doing anything wrong,” Joshua interjected. “I suspect she is just trying to be an adult and make others feel better.”
“She is my sister and I will thank you to let me tend to her,” Calli
e said.
She instantly regretted her outburst. He had only meant to help, but whenever he was around she seemed unable to think clearly, something she had to work on immediately. She was a grown woman, responsible for the health of over one hundred sixty people. She simply could not allow herself to be bowled over by a good-looking man, regardless of how compassionate and disheartened he looked at the moment.
Joshua bowed. “You are right. I apologize if I violated your duties.”
Callie clenched her teeth together. Is that how he saw taking care of family? As a duty? Then he is no better than Levi, she thought, recalling Levi’s comments about Storm’s mother being the one to care for her sick son.
“I need to talk to you,” Joshua continued when she failed to speak up.
“Talk? We have nothing to talk about.” Callie couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “There is nothing you could tell me that would make me feel any better.” Even as she said the words, she knew they were false.
“What if I said it was about you?”
He put his arm on her elbow and steered her toward the trail, pointing in the direction of the meeting house, where grief was softened and morale bolstered.
“A–about me?” She didn’t mean to stammer, but hadn’t she been thinking about this very thing lately? “I suppose we could discuss it on the way,” she offered. Where were her good intentions now, she asked herself. Why were her knees suddenly resisting holding her up?
“Somehow I do not think that will be a sufficient length of time to say what I have to say, but …” Joshua halted as Brother David walked past. They exchanged greetings, and when the elder had departed, he began again. “I have never been one to turn down the offer of having a fair-haired woman on my arm. Shall we?” He held out an arm to her and motioned down the trail with his other hand.
Callie swallowed hard. Her heart was racing in her chest, which was hardly an appropriate reaction for someone who had just attended a burial. Oh, why had he chosen now to want to speak with her? Why couldn’t he leave her alone? Since he didn’t appear about to do so, it was up to her to control herself. She was weak, just as the Bible said.
But didn’t the Bible also say, “There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it”? a little voice in her head argued.
What harm could come of her talking with Joshua? He said he planned on enlightening her about some of the things she wanted to know about the orphanage, about herself. Smiling more broadly than she could control and forgetting for the moment how upset she had been at seeing Sarah ogle Levi, Callie slipped her arm naturally through Joshua’s. Her fingers lay lightly across his muscular forearm, and she inhaled sharply as he smiled down at her. She had rarely touched Levi in this fashion, but with Joshua it just seemed so natural.
It was not a great distance to the meeting house, a half-mile or so. The grass along the pathway poked green tips through loamy dirt, and here and there a robin searched for food. Crows mingled at the tree line, screeching and performing some sort of ritual walk.
A thunderstorm could have erupted overhead and Callie would have paid it no attention. She could only concentrate on the man beside her. He towered above her, rugged and strong. Other men had walked beside her, but she had never felt as protected as she did with Joshua.
“Brother Joshua,” she began as seriously as she could. It was the only way she could maintain her perspective while walking with him.
When he lowered his head to look at her, a warm smile crinkled his blue eyes. “Yes?”
“What brought you here?” She hadn’t planned on being so forthright, but she did want to know, if only to satisfy a small portion of her curiosity.
“I have wondered when you would ask.”
She thought he might slow down the pace of their walk, but he didn’t.
He did, though, reach up with his free hand, remove his hat, and hand it to her. She took it without thinking, watching as he ran his fingers through the locks of thick black hair that chased across his forehead.
“It is a long story, and one I have not shared with many. But since you asked, I will tell you. I fell in love with a woman and planned to marry her. A situation arose and she, well, she was not free to marry me.”
Callie pulled back and almost dropped his hat, which she was carrying in her right hand. Why was he confiding in her? She gazed into those blue eyes of his that lately seemed so very capable of upsetting her world.
“That is terrible, but I hardly think you should be telling me this.” Did she look as confused as she felt?
“I have no one else to tell,” he went on in a whisper. “It is such a relief to finally share it. You see, I carry my love for her in my heart, waiting for the day when she realizes I will never forget her.”
Callie pondered his words for a minute, while his fingers tightened a bit on her forearm.
“You make it sound as if she is here, in Schoenbrunn.” She flashed a glance at the log cabins of the mission that lay ahead. “That cannot be. No one here has ever mentioned being in love or running from someone.”
His eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you are right. Wherever she is, she no longer knows how I feel about her.”
“Then you should find her and tell her that instead of hiding out in the wilderness.”
Callie had forgotten he was supposed to be talking about her. She marveled he would search so far for a woman he loved.
Joshua smoothed the lines on his forehead. “That was my intent when I began my journey, but certain events have changed my mind.”
“Then you have given up your search?” Was she being too inquisitive? She watched him carefully.
He lowered his eyelashes briefly then shook his head. “I am rethinking my approach. I had planned to confront her and demand we wed immediately.” He closed his eyes. “I have decided that will not do at all.”
A burst of envy for the woman he loved coursed through Callie. Imagine having a man who would do anything, go anywhere, to find the one woman he wanted above all else.
“I hope you find her one day, Brother Joshua,” she said.
Sarah and Levi strolled by, their arms linked lightly and slight looks of astonishment on their faces. Callie recalled that she had not yet spoken with Sarah about Levi’s behavior at the spring. She made a mental note to do so as soon as they were alone tonight. The way they were looking at each other made her very uneasy.
As Sarah and Levi followed the trail of tears headed toward the meeting house, Callie turned her thoughts back to Joshua. She admired his determination in the face of adversity, but she did not feel she should tell him that. It seemed too personal, too private. He was holding her arm while they walked and had given her his favorite hat to hold for some strange reason, but she hardly knew him.
Joshua regarded her quizzically. “So do I.”
He guided her back onto the path, and she watched as he compressed his lips into a tight line. Clearly, their discussion was over and she had not learned a thing about herself. Instead, she had listened to him speak of the fact that he loved someone whom he had come in search of. Someone who had left him? Turned him down? Did not love him? She could hardly pry further. Why did she always find herself in these situations where she couldn’t ask what she most wanted to know?
As they walked, Joshua did not take hold of her elbow as he had before. Callie missed his nearness more than she was willing to admit. Just having him touch her had made her feel warm and safe, so different from being with Levi.
She turned her mind back to what he had told her. He had loved, or rather, still loved, a woman who no longer returned that feeling. And he seemed determined to find her again, which meant he would one day leave Schoenbrunn. Had she hurt him, Callie wondered, the woman responsible for the silent mask of pain on his face?
She sighed. It was a tragi
c tale, but what could she do? Other than the “family” she had established here with the Moravians, she had no basis on which to judge love that occurred between a man and a woman. Early in life, before she was old enough to understand, her parents had cast her away. She had decided in recent years that no one would ever hurt her that way again. Strangely, Callie now found herself questioning that vow.
A shiver ran up her backbone as she remembered what Levi had proclaimed he felt for her. She might be lacking in actual experience, but she was sure that could hardly qualify as love. Other than seeing him with her sister after the burial, she had not seen or spoken with Levi since the episode at the spring. She was convinced he would not pursue her any longer. No, she assured herself, their relationship, if there had ever been one with Levi Lyons, was over.
But why, then, did she feel such a deep sense of loss for Joshua? Because he had come alone to Schoenbrunn? Because he had confided his search for the woman he loved? It was her nature to care deeply when others were hurting, though she had learned how to keep their pain at a safe distance from her own heart. That way she would survive, just as she had been doing since her accident, and probably as she had been doing all her life but just couldn’t remember.
She thought back to what Joshua had entrusted her with as they had stood off the path. The fact that he had given her a quick look at a small part of his past secretly thrilled her. Perhaps others would think it improper that he had confided in her, but since he had brought the issue up, she’d had no choice but to allow him to continue.
After all, he was a man and she had learned that sometimes men did strange things. Yet, there was an emptiness inside her that left her feeling as if they had left things unsaid in that short conversation. And he had not talked about her as he had suggested; he had talked about him. It all made no sense, so she pushed it away, saving it for a later time when she could concentrate.
“So you finally made it,” Brother David greeted as they walked around the side of the meeting house.
The Memory of Love Page 9
