by Linda Ford
“Time and again.”
“I didn’t realize I did.” He was quiet a moment. “It’s just that I feel so brittle inside, I’m afraid if anyone touches me, I’ll crack into a hundred little splinters.”
“You’re holding me now,” she pointed out. “And you’re even telling me what you’re feeling. Do you find it frightening?”
He pulled her closer in a warm embrace so different from the desperate way he’d clutched her in his arms the past few days. “It feels good. I don’t ever want to let you go.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll always be here.”
He nuzzled her hair. “I’ve thought about what Frankie said. I wish I could be different, but I don’t know if I can. Maybe, if I try—” He rubbed her back. “Just don’t lose patience with me.”
“Never,” she promised. Caleb had taken a big step. Tears of joy had stung her eyes.
She pulled herself back to the present.
At that moment, Caleb lifted his head and looked around the crowd at the graveside. When he found her, his eyes darkened with pleasure. He held her gaze for a moment, his look full of promise and love. His lips lifted just enough to let her know he was all right; then he turned back to his task.
She smiled to herself, her sorrow over Frankie’s death eased by the joy of Caleb’s changed behavior.
The pastor made an announcement that the ladies had prepared refreshments to be served at the Duncan home, and the crowd moved down the street.
The house was too small for everyone, so people milled around outside.
“You played lovely.” Mother Hughes was at her elbow.
Lizzie almost dropped her cup of tea. “I wondered if you would be offended.”
Mother Hughes gave a sweet smile, though Lizzie wasn’t sure if it went as far as her eyes. “Not everyone agrees with us. And it seemed fitting for Frankie. I know you played for him often.”
Lizzie stared after her mother-in-law as she slipped away to speak to someone else.
“Why the shocked look?” Caleb asked at her ear.
Lizzie turned to face her husband, her answer disappearing at the warm look in his eyes.
“Come on—I have some people I want you to meet.” Caleb drew her arm through his and led her toward the group of veterans. “These are the men I served with.” One by one, Caleb introduced them.
Lizzie shook hands and greeted them. They were all rigidly straight men in uniforms with matching serious expressions. Except for one, a youngish looking man with a wide grin. Caleb introduced him. “This is Carson Buttes. We fought side by side in France.”
Carson grinned down at her. “So this is the young lady who sent you all those letters? You should have seen him. He read every one so often the pages eventually crumbled.”
Lizzie glanced at Caleb. “He never told me that.”
“No, I don’t expect he would. He took a lot of teasing about it. Bet you’re glad to have him home safe and sound.”
She hugged Caleb’s arm. “I surely am. I’m sorry you’ve lost another of your comrades.” She addressed the whole group.
They mumbled their appreciation.
Carson sobered a moment. “Poor Frankie.” Then he punched Caleb on the shoulder. “But it’s good to see this old dog again. How are you doing, Caleb?”
Caleb shrugged. “All right, I guess.”
Carson nodded. “Hard to fit back in, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes,” Caleb mumbled, shifting his weight from side to side as if the conversation made him nervous.
“But then you’re one of the lucky ones.”
Caleb scowled at his friend. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’ve got a home to come back to. A pretty wife waiting. And a job.”
Several of the others murmured agreement.
Lizzie silently echoed Carson’s assessment, though she wondered what he would have thought if he knew Caleb’s father had planted the crop without help from his son while Caleb spent his days working on a fence that needed no work.
“What is your situation?” she asked.
Carson grimaced. “My pa died while I was away. Ma sold the house and moved in with my sister. There’s no room for me.” He shrugged. “I got no home, no job.”
Caleb shifted uneasily. “How about the rest of you?”
A chorus of replies. “I’ve been trying for months to find work.” “My brother lets me sleep in the attic.” “My fiancée decided not to wait for me.”
“I had no idea.” Caleb sounded confused. “I guess I never realized I had it so good.”
The men fell quiet for a moment; then one said in a low voice, “It’s hard to fit back in.”
There was a restless silence. Lizzie realized they were uncomfortable speaking of their troubles in front of her. “Excuse me. I see someone I need to talk to.” She slipped away, heading toward the house, wanting to check on Pearl and the children.
A throng of people surrounded Pearl. She met Lizzie’s questioning gaze and nodded a silent signal that she was doing okay.
Lizzie slipped through to the back door and looked out at the yard full of children. She picked out Frankie Junior and Violet playing with the others. Her gaze rounded the yard, but she couldn’t spot Robbie, so she edged her way toward the barn.
Molly grabbed her arm. “Who’s the man with Caleb?”
“Ex-soldiers who fought with Frankie and Caleb. Have you seen Robbie?”
“Robbie’s in the barn with some older boys.” She planted herself in front of Lizzie, demanding complete attention. “I mean the man Caleb is in hot conversation with.” Molly dragged her into the room. “See for yourself.”
Caleb, Carson, and another of the veterans huddled together talking and gesturing.
“Probably talking about the war,” Lizzie said.
“Isn’t he a dream boat?”
Lizzie jerked around to stare at Molly. “Caleb?”
“No, Silly. That one at his right. Look at him.”
Lizzie took another look. “You must mean Carson.” He appeared ordinary enough to her, though he did have a quick smile.
“Is that his name?” Molly’s eyes widened.
“Would you like to meet him?”
Molly gasped. “Would I?” She pushed Lizzie forward. “Lead on.”
Giggling, Lizzie allowed herself to be manipulated through the noisy crowd to Caleb’s side. Caleb smiled at her even as he listened to every word of Carson’s. It had been a long time since Lizzie had seen him so animated, and she silently thanked Carson.
“Ahem.” Molly pushed between Caleb and Lizzie.
Carson broke off and gaped at the girl before him.
Lizzie introduced them, allowing Caleb to fill in the names of the four others, though she was almost certain Molly never heard anything but Carson’s name.
“How about some more sandwiches and tea?” Caleb asked, and the other men followed him inside.
Carson hesitated. “How about you, Molly? Would you like to see what there is to eat?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Lizzie chuckled as the two wandered away, oblivious to the crowd around them.
“You coming?” Caleb called, and she hurried to catch up.
He draped his arm across her shoulder, pulling her close as they entered the house. In the press of people, Caleb pulled her closer. She smiled up at him, wishing they were in private so she could kiss him.
10
“I’m exhausted.” Caleb groaned, throwing his jacket across a hook. “I thought some of those people would never go home.”
Lizzie sank into a chair and propped her feet up. “I don’t know how Pearl held up so well.”
Caleb stretched out on the sofa. “I wish she would have let us stay to help get the children to bed.”
“Me, too, but I think they were feeling the need of being alone so they can comfort each other.”
“I suppose so.” He grew thoughtful. “It really changes things for them.”
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Lizzie nodded. Frankie’s passing would leave a huge hole in their lives.
Caleb pushed to his feet. “Let’s go to bed.” He held a hand out to her.
In bed, wrapped in Caleb’s arms, Lizzie tried to relax; but despite her tiredness, her mind remained too active. She felt the same restlessness in Caleb. “You had a good time with your comrades.”
“I did. They helped me see things more clearly.”
She waited, wondering what he meant.
“I truly am fortunate. I have so much. Some of these men have nothing.”
She hugged him. “I’m glad you’re able to see that.”
He pressed his face to her head. “I’m especially blessed to have you.” His voice was thick with emotion.
“Caleb, we have each other. That’s the best thing.”
He shuddered. “I almost forgot. Seems like I wandered around in a fog for a long time not able to see anything but the dreadful things of the war.” He shuddered again. “From now on, I’ll take one day at a time and try to put the war behind me.”
She hugged him tighter, kissing his chest and neck. “Now that you’ve dealt with it, things will get better.”
“I hope so, but sometimes things will get to me.”
“One day at a time.” She continued to place little kisses across his skin.
The pressure of his arms changed from desperate to gentle. He stroked her hair.
She snuggled against him. “I love you, Caleb Hughes.”
He grasped her chin and tilted her head back. “I love you, too.” His mouth found hers, his kiss blotting out everything but her love for him.
The days that followed were all Lizzie had dreamed of when she thought of moving to Canada as Caleb’s wife. Caleb was the man she had fallen in love with back home—full of tenderness and the joy of life. Suddenly he wanted to show her everything.
“We’re going to town,” he announced. “I want to have a look around.”
“At what?” she asked as she hurried to join him.
“The town. I haven’t taken a look at it since I got back. Not a real look.” He paused. “You want to go in the buggy or walk?”
She stopped and looked at him. This was the first time he had offered to ride rather than walk. She knew how much he liked walking. No, it was more than liking it; somehow the exercise seemed to enable him to deal with his tortured thoughts as if every thudding step could drive them farther away. “I’d be glad to walk.”
Side by side, hand in hand, they headed toward town.
Several yards down the road, Caleb pulled her to a halt. “Listen to that.” He tilted his head, smiling.
Lizzie listened, too. The wind hurried over the top of the grass, whispering secrets from the past. Half a dozen different types of birds called out to each other. Off in the distance, she thought she heard the sound of a horse clomping along. “What are we listening to?”
“The quiet. I’ve never noticed how blissfully quiet it is.”
Lizzie nodded. “It is nice.” She took his arm and pulled him close, grateful the thundering echoes of war were fading from his mind. “So peaceful.”
He grew thoughtful. “Yes.”
They stopped to see Pearl and ask how she was doing. Busy canning rhubarb, she wiped her forehead and replied, “The house is empty without Frankie. I’m grateful for the children to keep me busy.”
“Where are they?”
“Violet and Frankie Junior are in their room. Someone was kind enough to give them crayons and coloring books. They’re thrilled with them.”
“Robbie?” Caleb asked. They both worried more about him than the other children. He had seen more of Frankie’s illness, and now he had more to deal with in caring for the horses and facing Audie’s indifference to the business.
Pearl nodded toward the barn. “He said something about one of the wagons needing to be cleaned out.”
Caleb hurried to the barn, while Lizzie lingered to visit with Pearl; but Pearl was busy. “I’ll come back later,” Lizzie promised and went to find Caleb.
He was in the barn, showing Robbie how to grease the wheels properly. “They’ll last forever if they’re taken care of properly.”
“I know.” Robbie sounded upset. “I told Audie that, but he says I’m only a kid. He says he won’t be taking orders from a kid.”
Caleb’s expression hardened. “I’ll have a word with Audie.” He squeezed Robbie’s shoulder. “You hang in there. Things have a way of working out.”
“That’s what Dad always said. I try to pray about it like he said, but sometimes it’s hard.”
Lizzie hung back, giving Caleb a chance to speak to the boy.
“I know. Sometimes it feels like God isn’t listening. But remember that it isn’t God who’s changed. It’s us. But God finds ways to help us back to Him.”
Robbie stared at Caleb. “What ways?”
“It’s different for everyone, I expect.”
“For you?” Robbie persisted.
Caleb’s expression softened. “That’s easy. Your dad and Lizzie.”
“How is that?”
“Well, seeing how your dad was able to stay cheerful helped. And then he made me see how much I was missing—wasting, really.” He hesitated. “I suppose you might say he gave me permission to be happy. You see, I thought I didn’t deserve to be happy when he and the others had lost everything.”
Robbie nodded. “And what about Lizzie?”
Caleb smiled so bright it made Lizzie blink. “It’s hard not to be cheered up when someone loves you as much as Lizzie loves me.” He looked up and saw her. “Here she is now. You ready to go?”
Her heart brimming, she nodded. She waited until they were back on the street before she said, “That was nice. What you said to Robbie.”
“He’ll be all right. He’s a good kid. But handling Audie is too much for him.” And then he pointed to the house past the Duncan barn. “Mr. and Mrs. Murdock lived there when I left for the war. They were an elderly couple who came over from the old country all by themselves. I wondered why they left everything and started over at their age. Mr. Murdock was a cobbler. He made my first pair of boots.” He stared at the house, once painted white, but now peeling. One shutter hung loose. The screen door lurched to one side. Lace curtains hung at the window, but the house had the lonely feel of being abandoned.
Caleb seemed to have forgotten her presence.
“What happened to them?” she asked.
He turned slowly. “They both died in the flu epidemic.”
He headed down the road, pointing out houses and telling her who lived in each. They passed another silent, vacant house. “My old schoolteacher lived there.”
“Did she die of flu, too?”
He nodded. “War and the flu left a lot of families with empty chairs.” He stopped at the gate of a large yellow house. “This is the Carlson house.”
Her mouth dried as if she’d swallowed the desert wind. “You mean August and Gustave?” Two of the men who had died at his side.
“They were the oldest of five children. Only nineteen and twenty when they died.” He struggled with his emotions. “I’ve never spoken to their parents. I could never face them. How do I stand in front of them with not so much as a scratch and say I saw your sons die?”
She slipped her hand into his and let him squeeze hard. “It’s difficult.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look their mother in the eye again.”
The door opened. Caleb jerked back and spun on his heel, but the woman at the door saw him and called, “Caleb, is that you?” Her voice was thick with an accent, making her words round and musical.
Caleb turned—slowly and reluctantly. “Hello, Mrs. Carlson.”
“Come in. Come in.” She rushed down the steps and grabbed his arm. “I been wondering when you come by and see me. And this be your nice little wife from over there.”
Lizzie introduced herself, giving Caleb time to collect his thou
ghts.
“Now you come have coffee and tell me everyt’ing.”
She hustled them into a big warm kitchen. Blue and white china loaded every shelf and the plate rack circling the room. “Now you be sitting down while I pour coffee.” Not only did she pour black coffee, but she also sliced huge pieces of moist raisin cake and set a serving before each of them, then shifted her chair close to Caleb. “You tell me about my boys, yah?”
Caleb’s fists closed. Lizzie wrapped her fingers around one bunched-up hand. He lifted hollow, desperate eyes to her. Don’t go back inside yourself, she begged silently. Don’t go back to your black memories.
He held her gaze. Slowly his expression softened, and he turned his hand over so her fingers rested in his palm.
“They died brave?” Mrs. Carlson’s face wrinkled with worry.
“They died very bravely. Not one word out of either of them.”
She settled back in her chair. “That is good. Very good.”
“You must have taught them how to take care of others. They should have been orderlies. Every time someone else got hurt, one of them was right there applying pressure to the wound and encouraging them.” Caleb chuckled lightly. “They always said the same thing. ‘Looks like you’ll live, but if you’re going to die, do it bravely without complaining.’ It became our motto.”
Tears flooded down Mrs. Carlson’s face, but she didn’t sob. “I tell them that all the time—in joke, you understand. I never think it might come true.”
Caleb placed his hand over Mrs. Carlson’s. “I’m sorry you lost them. They were wonderful and brave.”
“Everyone lose someone in the war.”
Lizzie felt Caleb stiffen. She could hear his silent protest. Not me. Not me. How he hated being the only one to come back without so much as a physical wound to show for his agony.
Mrs. Carlson patted his hand. “Poor Caleb. You lose all your friends. You must hurt. Here.” She patted her chest.
“I be so grateful the war ended before Anton could sign up. He be set on joining his brothers. After they die, he want to take their place.” She smiled at Caleb. “I am glad you tell me about them. Now I rest easy. They make me proud.” She nodded slowly. “I tell their father.”
Lizzie looked at Caleb out of the corner of her eye. His face was awash with relief. At least one of Caleb’s demons had turned out to be a kindly welcome. If only the other dark torments of his mind could as easily be faced and conquered.
