Natasha's Diary

by Heather Greenis

  “I intend to stand in front of the preacher and commit myself to you one day, but right now, my heart isn’t prepared to release Natasha. I can only pray you will continue to be patient.”

  “I also require your patience, Stewart. I adore spending time with you, but I am not able to consider marriage right now.”

  Stewart felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders.

  “Accepting your invitation to spend so much time with you was a big step,” she continued. “In order to accept a marriage proposal, I must release Charles to give you my heart, my body, and my soul. I’m not capable of that at this time.”

  “You will never be rushed,” he assured her. “I find myself relieved you’re not ready. I simply wished you to know my intentions are honourable. I plan to set an example and wait until we’re married.”

  “You’ve entered my heart. I’m ashamed to admit, my body craves your touch. There are evenings I climb the staircase of my empty home burning with desire, but I still hear Charles’ voice in my inner ear.”

  “We must proceed with patience. I can wait until our wedding night. As I stated earlier, this is no need to rush.”

  There was still the issue of enlarging the family and providing a sibling for Hope. Although he hadn’t planned to become a father again at this stage in his life, he would be willing if it pleased Izabella. In his mind, once they were married they would attempt to conceive without delay. “If you wish to start a family with me though, we do need to have a serious discussion,” he added. Stewart didn’t mean for the tone of his voice to sound negative.

  “I dreamed of a family in my youth. Charles wished to wait until he was established in his business. He was determined to leave his heirs a legacy. If I were given one more night with Charles, I would seek to conceive a baby. I’d be proud and honoured to raise his child. My one regret about my marriage was our decision to avoid pregnancy. As for our relationship, my body yearns for you, but emotionally, I’m just not prepared. My humble apologies.”

  “No apologies, no regrets. Your heart needs more time to heal and move on. When you are ready to take the next step with our relationship,” he smiled and winked at her, “I believe I’m closer to a commitment than you.”

  Stewart looked around for the dog. “Brodie. Come.”

  They worked their way back to the house.

  “Stewart! I need your assistance.”

  “I’ll help Greg. I encourage you to go inside.”

  Stewart finished assisting with the chore and went into his home. Not seeing Izabella on the main floor, he walked up the steps and looked in his bedroom. Izabella met his gaze over the open diary on her lap. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks streaked with tears. He extended his arms. She jumped from the chair and ran to his embrace.

  “You finished.”

  “I recall you saying that Natasha had emotional strength that amazed you. I don’t possess her strength. I don’t know a living soul that does. To take her own life with such determination? It’s impossible to understand the depth of her fear and desperation. I admire you and your entire family. You rose above the pain and anguish and raised your daughter.”

  “It was the worst day of my life,” he admitted, keeping his arms around her. “I was tempted to end my life and join her, spend eternity with the woman I loved. But I couldn’t leave Hope—leave the daughter we created.”

  Releasing her, he walked to his wardrobe and reached for a small box. He removed the paper and motioned for her to join him on the edge of the bed.

  “I read this before the diary, but without knowing her, it’s logical to read it afterwards.”

  Izabella opened the folded paper. He watched her eyes, having memorized the letter line by line. She looked up at Stewart, and then turned her attention back to the page. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. It was quickly followed by a stream of tears.

  “Natasha would be proud of both her husband and daughter,” Izabella said brokenly. “She knew you loved her, but I cannot imagine possessing the strength to write a letter knowing she would never hold either you or her baby again. The fear of losing you and Hope must have been unbearable.”

  Stewart rose, closed his bedroom door, and returned to the wardrobe. He removed an envelope from the bottom drawer.

  “Which explains this.” He handed Izabella the will. “Natasha left nothing to chance. I was furious and terrified after reading this document.”

  Izabella glanced at the paper, her lips wordlessly forming the words ‘Last Will and Testament,’ and turned her attention back to Stewart. With a simple nod from him, she read the legal document before handing it back to him.

  “She blackmailed her mother from the grave.” Izabella finally managed, still attempting to comprehend the words she read.

  “Natasha was never given the opportunity to walk into a mercantile or boutique. She was never given the opportunity to look at fabric from which to choose a dress or gown. Yet, with her intelligence, and the anger she felt toward her parents, she forced her mother to pay for the privilege of seeing her granddaughter.”

  “Oh, my. I cannot imagine her fear that Hope could be raised by her parents. Nanny was her salvation, but….”

  “That haunted me while we lived in relative seclusion. It would have become more difficult as Hope aged. If we’d been discovered, I would have been fortunate if my life was spared. It’s doubtful I’d be alive today. Hope would have been taken from my family and raised by a governess. Natasha rebelled from that life. Would the repercussions have been taken out on my daughter? My wife cherished her bond with my family. She called my parents Momma and Poppa, an endearing term she did not use for her own parents. After reading her diary, I learned we shared the same fears. They simply weren’t discussed. In Natasha’s mind, Hope’s life without her momma was better than the alternatives. A life in hiding or a life under the rule of her father. Her parents’ lack of compassion forced her to make a choice.”

  “To leave both you and the child you created.”

  “Yes.”

  “I cannot imagine your emotions, the day you watched Hope leave with Nanny, releasing your daughter to a family you had no reason to trust.”

  “Hope’s first visit with her grandmother terrified me. I watched her leave and prayed to God I would see her again. I would have ended my life had they taken my little girl away from me. With my wife gone, my baby girl was my sole reason to remain on this earth.” He lowered his voice. “Hope is yet to see the will. She is not aware her momma left me a wealthy man. My pride sent me back to university. I experienced two exhausting, challenging years, but do not harbour any regret. I completed my education and have personally supported my daughter through a business I’m proud of. My hope, someday, is to find a purpose for the money that will make both Natasha and Hope proud.”

  Izabella stood up and embraced him. “You’re an amazing man, Stewart Donovan.”

  Should I show Izabella the journal? Allow her to read it? He pondered a moment. No. Not yet.

  That evening, when they reached her home, Izabella led Stewart inside, closed her door, and kissed him passionately.

  “My stars! If you inform me the reason for that kiss, I shall attempt to repeat it.”

  “I beg of you, please wait for me. I cannot push myself beyond small steps, but I’m certain we will have a wonderful future together. I’m afraid you shall tire of waiting and become acquainted with a woman that is prepared to offer you more than friendship.”

  “It took me ten years to find you. I’m not looking beyond the woman in front of me,” he promised.

  After exchanging a gentle kiss, he returned to his buggy with a warm heart. It was a wonderful night.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Stewart stood by the window in the parlour fastening his suspenders to his casual trousers and ensuring his white shirt was tucked into his pants. Hearing movement, he turned and saw Hope walking down the steps from the second floor.

  “You’r
e ready?”

  “I am, Poppa.”

  In short order they were approaching Izabella’s. She was waiting and joined them in the buggy without delay. They continued toward Adam’s home. Hope was quiet during the journey but began to fidget with her yellow dress as they approached the orphanage.

  “Hope. It is not like you to appear nervous,” Izabella remarked.

  “Adam is shy. I’m nervous for him.”

  Adam appeared in the doorway in his best finery. He rushed to the buggy to assist Hope down. Stewart jumped down and extended his hand to assist Izabella.

  “Adam, this is my poppa, Stewart.”

  “Adam Venderkemp,” he announced, bowing his head slightly.

  Taken aback by the formal greeting, Stewart extended his hand. He had to remind himself this young man had captured a piece of Hope’s heart. “Stewart Donovan. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Adam. Allow me to introduce Izabella Herrmann.”

  “Poppa.”

  Stewart turned. A couple his age approached. His mind could grasp numbers and formulas, but he had always struggled to recall faces and names with any accuracy. He worked under this man in his youth, but couldn’t remember him. “Stewart Donovan,” he announced, extending his hand. “And Izabella Herrmann.”

  After introductions and small talk, Adam offered to give Stewart and Izabella a tour of the building.

  “I appreciate the offer, but would prefer to spend the time to become acquainted with your parents. I realize how valuable their time is.”

  * * *

  A short while later, Adam stepped into the buggy with his head down and a deep flush staining his face. Hope had reminded Stewart more than once that Adam was shy, but the degree of the lad’s reticence surprised him. Once in the restaurant, Stewart and Izabella took their seats across from the young couple, and the conversation and questions began. Stewart saw the kind, educated, compassionate young man his daughter spoke so highly of.

  By the time their plates were empty the young man was speaking with a bit more comfort. Glancing toward his daughter, he hid a smile. Hope was glowing, obviously smitten with her companion. Impressed with his daughter’s new beau, Stewart could only hope he would remain in her life for more than a few weeks.

  Izabella suggested a leisurely walk after their midday meal. They strolled up and down the city streets admiring the wares in the shop windows. When they returned to the orphanage Stewart and Izabella walked around the area where the children were playing, giving Hope and Adam a few minutes together.

  The sight of the young children playing triggered vivid memories of his youth. They were memories of Natasha—the time they spent together in this very place, the birth of their daughter. He took a deep breath. It seemed like a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime ago. Hope had grown up before his eyes. It was impossible to imagine his life without her. Now she was entering into a relationship of her own. He approved. Natasha approved. That made his heart tingle, but the idea of a future without Hope scared him. He turned his attention to Izabella.

  “Do you believe Adam has kissed Hope?”

  She chuckled. “You never cease to surprise me. I expected you to ask my opinion of Adam.”

  Stewart hadn’t approved of all the young men who knocked at his door, but based on his first impression he would open his home to this young man. He’d be proud to welcome Adam into the family. “I don’t see the value in that question. We’d be fools to think poorly of him. You haven’t responded to my question.”

  “He’s an impressive gentleman. I’m not able to guess if he has kissed her or not.”

  “I shall ask her.”

  Izabella’s face clouded with dismayed anger. “No. You’ll embarrass her, for heaven’s sake!”

  “I won’t speak of it in Adam’s presence,” he responded, determined to have an answer.

  Izabella rolled her eyes and shook her head. It was apparent she wasn’t pleased, but Hope was his daughter. He needed to know.

  “Adam is a remarkable young man who is mature beyond his years,” Izabella remarked. “Hope has searched to find a man she could respect. Adam has the level of intelligence, the maturity, and the compassion she was seeking. He is very much like her father.”

  His heart melted. His lips curled into a smile. “Pray tell, where were you ten years ago?”

  “Happily married,” she responded with a wink.

  Stewart glanced around to ensure no one was watching and gave her a gentle kiss. He took her hand in his and they walked back to the entrance of the building.

  That night, once the family was sitting for dinner, Hope spoke of their day with Adam. When the topic turned to the orphanage Stewart glanced toward his sister. After years of attempting to become parents, Vicki put up a brave front and seemed happy to hear of Hope’s adventure. He was proud of her. Her heart must be filled with anguish, hearing of children in need of loving homes. Once Hope finished her meal, she retreated to her room.

  “Izabella. Would you give me a few minutes with Vicki?”

  Greg followed Izabella out of the room. Stewart reached for Vicki’s hand.

  “My humble apologies. Hope is not aware you and Greg are trying to start a family.”

  “I’ve come to accept the fact we are not meant to be parents. After ten years we are still without a child. We’ve never considered adoption, but perhaps it’s a discussion we should have while I still possess some energy.”

  Giving her a minute to wipe her tears, Stewart leaned over and gave his sister a hug. “Don’t become discouraged.”

  Izabella was alone in the parlour when Stewart joined her.

  “Let’s take a stroll with Brodie.”

  Stewart closed the door to his home and gripped Izabella’s hand.

  “I wasn’t aware of Vicki’s desire for a family,” she admitted once they were a distance from the house. “She’s never spoken of it to me.”

  “It’s a topic that brings pain to her heart. It frustrates Vicki to know Natasha was impregnated so easily. As you recall from reading the diary, Hope was a blessing, but a surprise. I will never understand God’s reasoning. Greg and Vicki love each other.”

  “Greg joined me on the sofa when we left the dining table, but excused himself and left when he heard the conversation. I feel for both Vicki and Greg. I dreamed of a family in my youth, but after we married, Charles became busy with his vision of a successful business, a legacy. In my mind, we had time for a family. Financially, I need not worry, but that does not ease my conscience with regards to his legacy. Stepping back in time, I should have insisted we begin our family. I would oversee Charles’ business until it could be handed to our child. I am fortunate we have nieces and nephews, but that is not the same. They are not his own flesh and blood.”

  “It would have been pleasing to have had another child with Natasha. A son,” Stewart admitted.

  “You must be proud of your accomplishments, though.” Izabella intentionally changing the tone to something positive, a fact Stewart appreciated.

  “Personally and professionally, I know both Natasha and Hope are proud of me. Although I believe in personal pride, and supporting one’s family, my daughter won’t be a wealthy woman if she pursues a relationship with Mr. Venderkemp.”

  “Pride comes in different forms,” Izabella reminded him. “It’s pleasing to have wealth, but it’s not the base for happiness.”

  “Indeed, it is not. My heart will be content if my daughter’s eyes sparkle when she thinks of her husband.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Stewart tapped on Hope’s door, waited for a response and entered her room with Izabella behind. Hope placed her novel on her lap and readjusted her position, sitting upright, resting against her pillow.

  Stewart sat on the edge of her bed while Izabella remained standing.

  “Adam is an attractive man with a wonderful smile,” Izabella remarked.

  Hope’s face took on a beautiful, magical glow. “He smiled the day I made hi
s acquaintance. That beautiful, sincere smile.”

  Pleased, Stewart winked at her.

  “Wha-at?” Hope questioned, allowing the word to drag out of her mouth.

  “I must know. Have you kissed?” Stewart asked.

  “Stewart!”

  “Poppa!”

  Their voices rose in unison. Stewart chuckled.

  “In your youth, you were vocal on the topic of my relationships on more than one occasion. You expected a response. I recall being accused of giving an unacceptable kiss. That, my dearest Hope, was equally embarrassing, especially with the recipient standing by my side.”

  Izabella smiled and caught his eye.

  “I don’t appreciate the comparison,” Hope moaned. “I don’t want to be teased. That was not your first kiss.”

  Stewart stared at his daughter. Could it be true? “Hope Donovan. Are you telling me you have never been kissed?”

  Hope stared at her novel “I have allowed a….” Her tone was so soft, he barely heard her.

  When the uncomfortable pause developed, Stewart saw Natasha in their daughter. Hope had truly inherited Natasha’s reticent nature.

  “A kiss to touch your lips?” he questioned. “A soft kiss as you witnessed that night in the pond?”

  “Nay,” she responded, her voice barely audible. “I allowed men to kiss my cheek.”

  “You’re a beautiful young woman, just like your mother. I’m certain they hoped to kiss more than your cheek.”

  Hope remained silent.

  “You possess many of your momma’s qualities.” He leaned toward her until he was able to place his forefinger comfortably under her chin. With her head tilted up, she met his gaze. “You have yet to respond to my question. Have you shared a kiss with Adam?”

  The magic sparkle was gone from her face, replaced with sadness. “Nay,” she admitted.

  “But you wish to?”

  She never responded. The solemn expression remained on her face. “I’m able to feel Momma’s anguish as she awaited her first kiss, wondering whether it would occur. I don’t want to wait a year, but I question whether Adam likes me in that way. I’m not sure he desires more than a study partner.”