by Lisa Harris
He’d seen the glimmer of hope in her expression as she spoke about God’s unfailing care and love and wished he could feel the peace she exhibited despite her confessed uncertainty at times.
All week her smile had given him a reason to fight. The doctor might not be sure how far his recovery would go, but with Rebecca’s encouragement he’d made significant progress. His biggest hurdle now was getting out of the chair to which he was temporarily affixed. But he was determined to walk. He’d overcome numerous obstacles in the past, from a life-threatening case of measles as a child to the sun-scorched conditions on a whaling vessel. His own fortitude of mind refused to allow this newest barrier to stop him. The doctor had managed to save his leg. It was up to him to get out of the chair.
Luke stared out his window as a shooting star streaked across the blackened sky. Higher on the horizon the moon hovered like a brightly lit whale-oil lamp. He knew that the God who displayed His majesty in the heavens above as well as the earth below could bring healing to his battered body, but would He bring peace to his troubled soul, as well?
Turning away from the window, Luke edged his way toward the bed as fatigue took over his body. Philip’s presence in the house tonight at dinner had affected him, as well. As Philip spoke about his wife and new daughter, Luke could vividly imagine the joy he hoped to feel one day about his own family. Isn’t that what he wanted at some point? A wife, a family, and a place to call their own? And he was certain he wanted to spend that life with Rebecca. Before Philip had interrupted them in the garden, he’d planned to speak to her about his intentions. He yearned to tell her it was time they took a step forward with their relationship if she would agree to allow him to court her officially.
He gripped the arms of his chair as the reality of his situation rushed over him. Maybe it was good he’d missed the chance to say anything. Certain questions haunted not only his waking hours, but also his dreams at night. What if he was never able to walk again? How could he, as a cripple, support Rebecca? He’d always felt that God’s will for him revolved around the bounty of the sea, both through his past whaling voyages and his dream of building ships. Without his legs, though, finding a purpose for his life seemed hopeless.
Parallel to the edge of his bed, Luke stifled the urge to call for the man his mother had hired to assist him. A week had already passed, and while he felt somewhat stronger, it was time to push his physical limits. He refused to rely on this chair or other people for the rest of his life.
Forcing his tired arms to push his body out of the chair, Luke felt his muscles burn with the effort, but he refused to give in to the pain. He set his good leg on the floor and stood slowly. He swayed with the effort then caught his balance. One step was all he needed to take. One step and the exertion would be over. He felt a spasm in his leg, and it refused to move.
Struggling to fill his lungs with air, he let his other foot touch the ground. Tiny beads of perspiration broke out across his forehead. Closing his eyes, he could envision Rebecca’s face before him. She would tell him to keep on no matter how much his body revolted against the effort. And that’s exactly what he planned to do.
His injured leg brushed against the floor, shooting a wave of fire through the extremity. Clenching his teeth, he fought the swelling pain that surged within him and tried to regain his balance. But determination wasn’t enough. With a loud groan Luke crumpled into a heap on the rug.
thirteen
“You haven’t heard a single word I’ve said, have you?” Rebecca sat back in the padded wicker chair on the Huttons’ terrace and frowned at Luke’s somber figure.
For the past few days, she’d managed to juggle her time between fulfilling her responsibilities at the furniture shop and staying up late into the night to complete the remaining quilts for the orphans. In addition, she’d continued to keep Luke company in the afternoons. While spending time with him was something she’d come to enjoy during his recovery, his sullen attitude these last couple of days had tempted her more than once to send her regrets that she would not be available to stop by. If he simply wanted someone to be around, the maid could do that.
Matching her frown, he said nothing as he slid his knight across the wooden chessboard.
She folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t come to sit and talk to the wall.”
“Then why did you come?” He looked up, exposing the pair of atrocious muttonchops he’d allowed to grow along the sides of his face. Others might contend that such a look was fashionable, but she did not.
Rising from the table she glanced into the house, wishing Mrs. Hutton hadn’t gone out. Luke’s mother had assured her the daily afternoon visits lifted his spirits and had invited her to continue coming until he was walking again. It was something she’d done with pleasure. Until today.
At the moment she wasn’t even sure why she had come. Not once had he made further mention of his intentions toward her, leaving her at a loss as to where their relationship, if there even was one, was headed. In fact, the conversation they’d begun the other night regarding their future had seemingly vanished along with the fading daylight.
“It’s your turn.” Luke’s fingers gripped the armrest as he rocked his chair back and forth.
The slight squeak coming from the left wheel was enough to drive her mad, and while she hated venting her own frustrations on him, she was tired of his unpleasant moods. “I’d rather not play anymore.”
“Would you prefer reading to me?”
“Reading to you?” Rebecca plopped back down in her chair, exasperated. After his long-winded complaints about the ending of the last dime novel she’d read him, she was surprised he had the gall to ask. “You want me to read to you?”
A fire blazed in his eyes as he looked at her. “Honestly? No. I don’t want you to read to me. I want to go down to the harbor and start building another boat. I want to wear my ice skates and spend the afternoon at the indoor rink. I want to—”
“Luke—” She clenched her teeth together.
“What? What do you want to say? That I can’t do any of those things now?” He leaned forward in his chair. “Don’t you know I’m fully aware of what I can’t do anymore?”
With one long brush of his hand, Luke swept the chessboard onto the stone floor of the terrace, its wooden armies scattering in every direction. The following silence was deafening. Rebecca stared at the jumbled pieces strewn across the ground and was overcome with a sense of guilt.
He may have lost his temper, but she’d helped drive him to it. Who was she to judge his unpleasant attitude when he’d been through so much? On top of watching the horrendous deaths of his crewmates, he’d possibly lost not only the use of one of his extremities, but his dream to be a shipbuilder. Didn’t the man have a right to go through a time of mourning?
“I’m sorry.” Their apologies came at the same time, bringing a slight grin to Rebecca’s lips.
Luke ran his fingers through his wavy hair. “You have nothing to regret. I’m the one who’s been truly horrible these past few days. I really am sorry.”
“Wanting to quit the game because I was irritated at you wasn’t exactly model behavior either.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Why do you keep coming every day to see me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Look at me.” He lifted the blanket off his useless leg. “The doctors aren’t sure I’ll ever walk again on my own. I’m grumpy and more ornery by the minute. Why do you bother coming at all?”
She picked up one of the chess pieces that had fallen into her lap and rolled it between her fingers. Why did she continue to come, day after day? Why did she put up with his cantankerous attitude and his impossible disposition? It wasn’t as if she had to come. She had no claims on him.
You’ve come every day because you still love him, Rebecca Ann Johnson.
Rebecca swallowed hard at the confession. As afraid as she was to love him, it was an emotion she couldn’t ignore. And she rea
lized now the question she had to ask despite the searing pain his rejection would bring.
“I need to know your intentions by me, Luke. I know the accident changed you. If you want me to walk out of your life today, then I’ll never bother you again. But if what you said to me that night in the garden is still true … I need to know.”
“I’ve been such a fool.” He shook his head slowly then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.
Her heart thudded as she studied his solemn expression, dreading his response. She was the one who had been the fool. He didn’t love her anymore. She could see it in his face. His head dropped as he avoided her gaze. He may not want to tell her the truth, but she had to know.
Besides, she should have known that now that no excuses stood between them—no three-year voyage saving him from having to make a commitment—his true feelings would eventually surface. She’d seen what she wanted to in the situation, not the true reality of what was. Had she believed Luke Hutton cared about her when he could have any woman he wanted? Nausea washed over her. They lived in two different worlds, and she’d been childish to believe their relationship could have a happy ending like one of her cheap dime novels.
He leaned forward in his chair. “I told you the other day that everything has changed for me, but one thing I don’t think ever will, and that’s how I feel about you.”
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I—I thought—”
“I still love you, Rebecca.”
Any traces of anger or frustration vanished from his face. She couldn’t breathe. Had he really told her he still loved her? A smile broke out across her face as the reality of his words began to sink in. Luke Hutton loved her. But as a shadow crossed his face, she knew there was more.
“What is it?”
He pressed his fingertips together before speaking. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to walk again. I might have a nice-sized inheritance from my father, but I don’t know if I can survive that way. Living day after day in this chair, being forced to rely on others for everything I want to do. You deserve more than a man who’s an invalid.”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she shook her head. “When you left on the Liberty, I thought I’d lost you forever. I was the foolish one who refused to wait for your return even though I knew I loved you. If you really love me, please don’t let this get in the way of us.”
Luke felt the tension grow along his jawline. His first impulse at her question had been to tell her a lie. If he told her he didn’t have feelings for her, it might make it easier for her in the long run. She’d go home to Cranton and forget about the washed-out sailor who’d more than likely never navigate another ship again, let alone build one. He didn’t want to be a burden to her.
But as much as he’d wanted to, he knew he had to tell her the truth. How could he deny his feelings to the one woman who had completely stolen his heart? No matter what he did, he felt trapped.
“What if I never walk again, Rebecca?”
“What if you do?” A look of determination flashed in her eyes. “It hasn’t been that long since they dragged you out of the ocean, clinging to a dilapidated lifeboat. You’re going to walk again someday—I know it.”
He laughed aloud as all the frustrations from earlier melted away. “Now I know why you’ve been coming.”
“And why is that?”
“To give me the swift kick of motivation I need each day. You’re right for me, Rebecca Johnson. I need you in my life.”
He noticed the crimson blush that crept up her ivory skin, giving her a radiant glow. A smile lingered on her lips. “Then we’ll have to take things slowly so I can make sure you’re going to behave.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Fumbling with the pawn in her hand, she laid it on the chessboard then knelt on the ground to pick up the other escaped soldiers.
I don’t deserve her, Lord. But whatever Your will is for my life, after all that’s happened, she’s the one thing that still makes sense.
But would she decide to stay? She was close to her family, and the desire to be with them was pulling her away from Boston. It was something he understood, but would she stay long enough for them to see if a relationship between them would work? And what about after that? Could he move to Cranton, leaving behind his mother and the sea that still called him? He seemed to have far more questions than answers.
“What about your going home to Cranton?” he asked.
“I’d still like to go and visit my family, but now I’d have a reason to return to Boston.” She looked up at him. “And if you’re up and walking by Christmastime …”
He couldn’t help but hope her subtle invitation was one offered in all seriousness. Throughout the time they’d known each other, he’d enjoyed numerous stories of her six brothers and sisters, from how Samuel presented their stepmother, Michaela, with a frog the first time they met her, to how they had adopted little Anna from the Mills Street Orphanage. While he had never met any of them, he could picture them clearly in his mind. Sarah, who loved to talk almost as much as she loved her animals; Adam, who dreamed of running his own maple syrup farm …
All his life he’d longed for a big family, and while the thought of meeting Rebecca’s relations might be a bit overwhelming, he wanted to be a part of them.
Luke watched the hem of her purple dress sweep against the stone flooring as her slender fingers scooped up the remaining pieces. He’d never noticed how her lips pressed together when she concentrated on something or how when she tilted her head she gnawed on her lip.
Trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his knee, he thought about the night the Liberty sank. He’d thought she was there with him. He remembered now. He’d heard her voice as he clung to the board. She told him not to give up. Not to let go of hope. Frigid waters had swirled beneath him, threatening to ravage his weakened body. He remembered the warmth of her kiss and the taste of her lips, and as he prayed for deliverance, he somehow found the strength to hold on.
Slowly he rolled the chair around the table and across the terrace. Even from where he was, he could smell the flowery scent of her perfume captured by the afternoon breezes. He moved until he was mere inches from her.
“You know you need to grease your wheel.” She turned to him, her hands filled with the last of the chess pieces.
“Really? I didn’t notice.” How could he when she was all he noticed?
She moved to stand then stopped at the sound of ripping fabric. She let out a sharp breath. “Luke, my dress—it’s caught beneath your wheel.”
Unable to stop himself, he laughed aloud but made no attempt to move the chair. “I seem to remember another time you were entangled by my charms.”
“It was a rosebush,” she said with a giggle, examining the front of her dress.
Resting her hands on one side of the chair, she pushed it back slowly until the garment was free. He leaned toward her until he could feel the whisper of her breath against his cheek.
“You’re going to have to be more careful with this contraption.” She let go of the chair but didn’t move away. “You’re liable to catch some poor girl in it.”
“There’s only one girl I have any desire to capture.”
“And who would that be?”
“You.”
Laughing, she tried to pull away but not before he caught her in his arms. Lightly he brushed his lips across hers before letting her go.
The sun spun a halo of gold above her. “What happens next?”
“I believe I have some hard work ahead of me.” He squeezed her hands between his fingers. “If I’m ever going to court you, I have to be able to walk again.”
Rebecca ambled up the brick walk toward Aunt Clara’s home, a lazy smile across her face. The two-story home loomed ahead of her with its corbeled brick exterior and arched windows, obstructed only by the giant oak trees whose yellow leaves fluttered to the ground around her. Back in Cranton, Michaela had recounted dozens of stories pertaining to her g
rowing-up years in Boston with Aunt Clara. Fond memories of Christmases spent in front of the stone fireplace, evenings singing carols and drinking hot chocolate, and especially the fact that the house had been filled with love. In the short time Rebecca had lived here, she’d come to feel as if she’d known Aunt Clara her entire life. She was the grandmother she’d never known.
Taking the porch steps two at a time, she wondered if maybe God’s will for her life had always been right in front of her. She hadn’t known how much she cared for Luke until she lost him. Now that he was back, she knew she never wanted to let him go.
Aunt Clara opened the door, and Rebecca wrapped her arms around the older woman, content with the way her life had turned. After a moment she stepped back, but before she could say anything, she caught the quiver in the older woman’s chin and the white pallor of her face.
“Aunt Clara? What’s happened?”
Aunt Clara squeezed Rebecca’s shoulders and didn’t let go. “We received a telegram from your parents a short while ago.”
Rebecca’s hands covered her mouth. Her parents had never sent anything but letters. If something was wrong with a member of her family …
“Come inside, Rebecca, and sit down.”
Obeying, she followed her aunt into the parlor. The normally cheery room turned gloomy. Even the pale rays of sunlight spilling across rose-colored walls couldn’t brighten the impending despair she felt.
Sitting next to the older woman on the flowered slipcovers, Rebecca leaned forward. “What is it, Aunt Clara? Please tell me.”
Aunt Clara gathered Rebecca’s hands between her wrinkled fingers. “The telegram was brief, so we don’t have all the details, but your brother Samuel was involved in a serious accident.”
Rebecca worked to slow her breathing. He’d sent her a letter a few weeks ago telling her about a girl he’d met. At seventeen he might not be ready for the responsibilities of starting a family, but from his penned words he was quite smitten with the girl.
Please, God, whatever it is, let him be all right.
“What happened? How is he?”
