by Jody Hedlund
Drew lay silently without moving. He didn’t refute her or change the subject, so she took that as her cue to keep talking and share the lesson she’d been learning lately for herself. “But don’t you think sometimes it takes even greater courage to accept our losses? And not just accept them, but move on and continue to live?”
He didn’t answer her.
When she glanced sideways at him, he was staring straight up at the sky, and in the dark his expression was unreadable.
She swallowed the fear that rose and threatened to constrict her voice. After all, what did she have to lose by encouraging him to make peace with his past? “I lost Sophie and Olivia and Nicholas. I can hate and blame myself forever. That’s actually the easy thing to do. What takes strength is to finally forgive myself and make peace with what happened. No, I won’t ever forget about them, but I can’t continue to live in the shadow of my mistakes.” She held her breath, praying she hadn’t offended him.
“So you’re saying that sometimes it takes courage to stop living in the shadows and move into the sunshine?” His question was genuine and warm.
She exhaled her relief. “Yes.”
A distant bleat of a sheep and the continuous song of crickets settled around them. When his fingers brushed against hers, she didn’t move them away. And a moment later when he laced his fingers through hers, she smiled and didn’t fight against his hold or the deep joyous ache that sprang to life inside her.
She simply gazed into the night sky and let herself savor the moment thoroughly. She wanted to imprint every second of it on her mind so she could treasure it long after it was over. It wouldn’t last forever, even though she wished it could.
“So,” he said quietly after a long while, “maybe the first thing I need to do to move out of the shadows is honor my commitment and finish the work on this trip.”
“I’d like that.”
“Are you sure you can put up with me?”
“You are rather difficult to endure,” she teased, “but I’ll do my best.”
“What do we have left to do?”
With his hand still intertwined with hers, she told him about the children and families she’d already visited over the past weeks. He listened attentively to her concerns about some of the children whose new homes had appeared questionable.
“We’ll revisit them together,” he suggested. “And if we don’t like the situation, then we can work on finding new homes or take the children back with us.”
She nodded. She didn’t want to remind him that Jethro was still in Quincy and waiting for their return.
“I’m sure Jethro is worried about us by now,” Drew said, reading her mind. “I hope he doesn’t think we’ve abandoned him.”
She prayed so too. He was a good boy, but curious and talkative and sometimes very tiring. She could only imagine the hassle he’d been to Mrs. Gray when he’d started to feel better and had gotten out of bed. Marianne would have to think of some special way to thank the dear woman for taking Jethro under her wing.
“How do you think he’ll react when he discovers . . .” She was about to mention her upcoming marriage to Reinhold but suddenly felt embarrassed about bringing it up.
“Discovers what?” Drew tightened his hold on her hand. “That we’re not getting married anymore?”
“Do you think he’ll accept Reinhold as a father instead?” she asked in a rush. “Reinhold said he was willing to keep Jethro . . .” Again the awkwardness of the conversation stopped her.
At the mention of Reinhold, Drew sat up and frowned. She rose more slowly and at the same time extricated her hand from his. Guilt pushed at her, urging her toward the ladder to put an end to her time with Drew.
She wasn’t being fair to Reinhold. She shouldn’t be spending intimate time with Drew, holding his hand and talking so deeply with him. If anything, it was something she should be doing with Reinhold, although she couldn’t imagine practical, level-headed Reinhold coming to her hotel window and asking her to come out and see him. He would have considered such a thing scandalous. And she couldn’t imagine him climbing a water tower to stargaze, much less goading her into it.
She reached for the ladder, but Drew beat her to it. “Let me go first so I can assist your descent if you need it.”
She nodded mutely and waited for his head to disappear before beginning to climb down after him. When he reached the ground, he waited with his arms stretched toward her. As she touched the last few rungs, his hands encircled her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly the rest of the way down.
With her bare feet just inches from the tickly grass, she expected him to release her, but he didn’t. His hands fit perfectly on her hips, spanning her waist around to her back. All he had to do was put the slightest pressure at the small of her back and she’d stumble against him.
She wanted to lean into his touches, feel the strength of his presence, to rest her head against his chest and hear the ever-quickening thud of his heartbeat.
Though he didn’t tug her closer, he didn’t move away either. He drew in a ragged breath, one that made her pulse increase with sudden need.
“Marianne?” His whisper was hoarse and laden with longing.
She closed her eyes for a second to block him out, to stay rational, to keep herself from doing anything she would later regret. She forced out the words she knew she must. “I’m engaged to Reinhold.”
Her statement had the wake-up effect she’d hoped for. Drew released her and took a step back. “I’m sorry . . . I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“No, Drew.” She crossed her arms over her chest to ward off a sudden chill. “I’m glad we could talk. I’d hoped for the chance.”
“But . . .”
“But we have to remain friends now.”
“I understand.” He tugged at his collar, sliding another button open as though his shirt was strangling him.
“Can we go back to being partners, like we were at the beginning of the trip?”
He blew out a long breath. “I don’t know if I can ever go back, Marianne. But I’d rather be your friend and partner than nothing at all.”
She wanted to throw away caution and tell him she couldn’t go back either and that she wasn’t sure how they could be only friends and partners. Not when the attraction between them was still very much alive.
But she’d made a commitment to Reinhold that she’d marry him, and she couldn’t go back on her word. He needed her now more than Drew did. And she wouldn’t let him down. Besides, everything that had happened between her and Drew had been impulsive and reactionary. They could both recognize that they’d acted hastily, couldn’t they?
“Yes, I’d like to remain friends,” she said, hoping that would be enough for them both.
“Then friends it shall be,” he said with forced cheer.
“Drew, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. It’s my fault. I was a weak man. I pushed you away when I should have cherished you most.”
“Our relationship happened so fast. We hardly knew each other when we made our decision. And it was all because of Jethro—”
“It was long enough for me to know,” he added, cutting her off.
“We let things get out of hand and became infatuated. That’s all.” She tried to keep the longing out of her voice. “And now we need to set boundaries and keep them there.”
He didn’t answer. Instead he blew out a tense, exasperated breath.
“Reinhold is a good man, Drew, and I don’t want to hurt him. He needs me to take care of his sisters. And I can’t go back on my word to him. I just can’t.” If she rejected Reinhold, she’d not only hurt him, but she’d hurt his sisters too. And she wouldn’t do that to either Reinhold or the girls. Not even for Drew.
Drew stood rigidly for a long moment, staring at the sky again.
She reached out to touch his arm but then caught herself. If they were going to remain friends and nothing more, then she’d have to do her part and n
ot lead him on. She clasped her hands together and put another foot of distance between them.
“You and I . . . we can’t be anything more than friends. We have to agree to that or it won’t work for us to travel together.”
He radiated frustration and seemed to be waging a private battle within himself. Finally he cleared his throat. “If that’s what you want, I’ll respect your decision.”
“Thank you.” She knew she was doing the honorable thing, but the pain in her heart kept deepening. “Now promise me.”
“Promise what?”
“That you and I will be friends and nothing else.”
He nodded. “Friends and nothing else, I promise.”
She wasn’t sure why his words didn’t reassure her. And as he started to walk her back to the hotel, she couldn’t keep from wondering if this time she’d made her worst decision yet.
Chapter 26
Drew sprawled out on the train bench, his hat low over his eyes. It was low enough he could stare at Marianne on the seat across from him without her realizing it. It was a trick he’d perfected with the orphans, and now it came in handy.
Marianne was reading through the notes she’d made in the record book and now and then jotted something new down. He loved the way she chewed at her bottom lip when she was trying to make a decision. Or how she tapped her pencil against her chin when deep in thought. Or how she scrunched her nose at something that bothered her.
As if sensing his staring at her, she glanced at him. He feigned sleep for a few seconds before looking again. She’d shifted her attention to the landscape, prairie mostly, passing by outside the train car. The light coming in from the open window highlighted her elegant chin and cheek. Her thick wavy hair was pulled back, revealing her long and smooth neck, where he imagined burying his face and getting lost in the sweetness of her skin.
He’d done his best over the past ten days to remain strictly friends with her. The self-restraint had nearly killed him. He wanted to keep his promise but didn’t know how much longer he could hold out.
They’d finished visiting the orphans placed in Dresden and had also gone back to some of the placements Marianne had found questionable during her first round of visits. Drew had found one excuse after another to extend their time together. But finally he’d run out of reasons to prolong their trip. This morning they’d boarded the train bound for Quincy where they’d pick up Jethro. In a few days they’d return to Mayfield, where she was planning to get married to Reinhold.
Panic seized him, as it had done every time he thought about how the clock was ticking and he still hadn’t figured out a way to win Marianne’s affection. Even after hours of contemplating the problem, he couldn’t think of a way to convince her to marry him instead of Reinhold.
The problem was, she couldn’t let Reinhold down. He needed Marianne. And she’d made a commitment to him. Drew was hesitant about stepping between the couple. Besides, she’d eventually feel guilty for not honoring her commitment to Reinhold. And he’d feel guilty for breaking his promise to her. Hence they’d always have a wedge between them.
No, if he was going to win her heart, he had to do it right, honorably. He just hadn’t figured out what that right way was yet. And now he was running out of time.
“Drew?” she said softly.
He pretended he was sleeping and hadn’t heard her. If she knew he’d been staring at her, she’d only be self-conscious and sit in a different seat. As uncertain as he was about the future and what to do after this trip, he’d never wavered in how much he loved Marianne. His time in jail and especially the trial had made him want her even more. After she’d heard the details of his past, he expected her to be disgusted with him. Charlotte certainly had been. He didn’t blame her for calling off the wedding. Who wanted to be married to a man who’d stood trial for murder?
Even worse, who would want to be associated with a man who’d stood trial for murder twice? And yet Marianne hadn’t bolted. Instead, she’d stood beside him, never wavering in her belief in him, and had even gone to a great deal of trouble to help him. He loved her for her unswerving and unconditional acceptance and wished he could tell her.
More than that, he wished he could go on loving her for the rest of his life. She’d been strong when he was weak. And now he wanted to do the same for her. Over the past week of thinking and praying, Marianne’s example had helped him begin to understand the verse from the Second Epistle to the Corinthians: “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
He’d likely experience times where the guilt of all that had happened would overwhelm him again. But perhaps God was trying to show him that during those times, He wouldn’t leave and would in fact be strong in the midst of Drew’s weakness—just as Marianne had been.
“Drew, wake up,” she said louder.
He pretended to stir.
“Before we arrive in Quincy, we have to talk.”
He pushed up the brim of his hat and made a point of yawning noisily. “Talk?”
They’d spent hours over the past week discussing all the things that were right and wrong with the Children’s Aid Society placing-out program. He appreciated seeing things from Marianne’s perspective as a new agent. But he also knew from experience that she was a bit idealistic. In Drew’s opinion, even though there were problems with the system Brace had developed, overall the resettlement was working well.
Nevertheless, he’d taken her concerns to heart and was pondering them. Especially because in Dresden the stationmaster had handed him a week-old copy of the Chicago Tribune, which had an editorial comparing the Emigration Plan to slavery. The editor said, “If an agent had taken that many little Negroes from the plantations of Louisiana to Springfield and should have prepared to do the very thing with them that everybody knows will be done directly or indirectly with these poor children from New York, our good abolitionist friends would all have fainted at the horrid thought.”
While the article had irritated Drew, he simply attributed it to ignorance. The editor clearly didn’t understand the stipulations of the placing out. There was some truth raised in that Brace’s plan did contain similarities to the indenture system that had been prominent for decades during the early days of the country’s founding, but it also contained significant differences.
For example, the children were not bound to the families they went to live with. The relationship could be dissolved at any time if either the child or family was dissatisfied with the arrangement. Marianne had argued that such an open-ended policy contributed to turnover for certain children rather than stability, that it allowed for parents to give up a child at the smallest hardship rather than stay committed.
Drew, however, saw the flexible nature of the agreement as beneficial to the children who could then be placed in better living situations or brought back to New York City instead of being relegated to a family who didn’t want them.
Drew could admit that Marianne had raised many good points, and he’d thoroughly enjoyed discussing them with her. She’d challenged him to move beyond the complacency he’d fallen into during his years of working for the Children’s Aid Society and to realize that even if they were doing well on behalf of many children, they needed to evaluate ways to improve the program.
He sat up and stretched his arms above his head before settling back into his seat. “What would you like to discuss this time? Better methods for interviewing prospective parents? Or establishing regulations for children’s work?”
They’d already discussed both, but he loved listening to her talk and watching the emotions that played across her face, the way her eyes lit up, and the sincerity that made lines in her forehead. She was smart and logical and full of interesting ideas.
“We passed through Wellington,” she said. “Quincy is the next stop.”
Actually, he was well
aware of exactly where they were and how little time they had left together.
“So we need to discuss something that won’t take all day?” he asked.
“I’m afraid this one will take all day and longer.”
Something in her tone and expression set him on edge. “Which one?”
“Jethro.”
“I’m sure he’s much better by now and able to travel.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what’s worrying you?”
“Elise said he’s excited to see us again. And I’m sure he’s still expecting us to get married and adopt him as our child.”
Drew was tempted to tell her in that case they would simply have to go through with marriage plans so they didn’t disappoint Jethro. But he knew such an answer would frustrate Marianne, so he made an effort to weigh their options. “I think we have to be honest with him, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Then should we tell him I’m marrying Reinhold?”
“If we don’t, he’ll find out soon enough.” Unless Drew could find a way to get Marianne to cancel her plans. But how?
She was contemplative for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt him.”
“I don’t either, but unfortunately he’ll be disappointed.”
“He’ll be absolutely crushed.” Marianne sniffled, fighting back tears. “I hate to do this to him, especially since he’s so excited about it.”
Drew considered playing on Marianne’s sympathy for Jethro and in that way making her change her mind about marrying Reinhold. But he had to be completely honest with her, even if doing so cost him his last chance at having her.
“Marianne,” he said gently, “Jethro’s a resilient young boy. With the kind of life he’s lived, he’s had to be. In the short term, the news that we’re not getting married and adopting him will make him sad. But he’ll get over it soon enough and will be fine.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I’m positive.” If only he could say the same thing about himself.
