by Dawn Kinzer
“Mary cried in my arms that night until she fell asleep, exhausted. When the police came, the nanny wanted to take her, but I just couldn’t let her go.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Peter.”
He embraced Sarah and held her against his chest. “For a long time, I blamed myself. If I hadn’t given in to fighting with her—been more patient and understanding. If I hadn’t been so determined to get my way...I sometimes wonder why I didn’t reach for her sooner, or hold on tighter. Was there something I could have done to save her? The truth is that I was tired of her cruelty and coldness, and I couldn’t tolerate her taking Mary. So, for a moment—just a moment—I was relieved she was dead.”
Sarah gasped. “Peter.”
“It’s painful to confess it out loud. How could I feel or think such a thing?” Peter groaned. “I’m human, Sarah. When those rumors about us affected my ministry, I was afraid of losing everything. It doesn’t justify my actions, but not forgiving myself for what happened with Lily and feeling the need to prove myself worthy of serving God has consumed me. I’d vowed to never let anyone—especially a woman—come between me and my calling again.”
Peter, weary from purging, had to push through and finish. “I should have stood up to the church council and anyone else, regardless of the accusations. You have no reason to compare yourself to Lily. I think one of the reasons I could never really love her was because I was always comparing her to you.”
Everything he’d buried deep within had been exposed. He could only hope it made a difference in her understanding, but not in her feelings for him—if she still did care for him.
He raised her chin and held her eyes with his. “I love you, Sarah McCall.”
***
“Peter, I’m so sorry.” Sarah’s heart ached for him. He’d not only suffered, but he’d kept all that pain to himself. What happened between him and Lily was horrible—ugly—but her death was an accident. Although grateful to hear the truth, his words cut through her like pieces of sharp, shattered glass. He hadn’t trusted her when she desperately needed to understand him and the decisions that had kept them apart.
“Can you forgive me?” Peter’s warm, heavy breath brushed against her cheeks.
Sarah turned from him and rose from the ground. “Yes, of course I forgive you. That’s why I’m here.” Peter stood, and Sarah stepped back from his reach. “I couldn’t move to Milwaukee without knowing we’d made peace.”
“You’re still leaving?” Peter clasped his hands behind his head. “After all that I told you? You can’t be serious.”
Oh, no. He’d misunderstood. He believed she’d stay if he shared his story. “Peter, you kept the truth from me, even after you promised to never keep secrets.” Her eyes burned, and her voice shook. “So much pain—so much time wasted. Because you didn’t trust me or our love for each other.”
“I was wrong, Sarah, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” Desperation filled his voice.
“That’s not good enough.” There remained too much at stake.
“What if—what if I said I was willing to find a new church in another town? We could start over as a family. The two of us and Mary.”
He’d do that for her? Despite everything, her heart still belonged to Peter, but she couldn’t risk being hurt again. Sarah had made up her mind, and he wasn’t going to change it. She’d forgive, but she’d never forget.
“Peter, it wouldn’t work. You came here for your fresh start, to give Mary a home where she could be surrounded by family. It wouldn’t be fair to take her away from Ellie, Thomas, and the children.”
“She’d adjust.” His voice sounded confident, but his eyes said Sarah had hit a mark.
“Adjusting and being happy aren’t the same thing, and you know it.” She needed to be honest with him. “You’re not the only reason I’m leaving. I still feel this tug in my heart to make a difference somewhere. I need to discover what God wants to do with my life, and I’m afraid if I stay, his voice will be drowned out by others.” Sarah clutched her skirt and pushed herself up from the ground. She’d done what she’d set out to do—she told him she’d forgiven him.
Now to force her legs to move in the opposite direction before she found herself flying into his arms. “I’ve made up my mind. It’s the right thing for both of us.” Sarah offered a weak smile, the best she could do with a breaking heart.
She turned and hurried up the path toward the woods.
“Sarah! Wait!”
Peter, vulnerable and hurting, had poured his heart out to her, yet she was still walking away. Her leaving had nothing to do with wanting to hurt him, but her stomach sickened at one possibility.
Was she treating him no differently than Lily?
chapteR FORTY-FIVE
Sarah tucked her grandfather’s copy of David Livingstone’s journal into the bag sitting on her bed. Even though her trip wouldn’t take her to Africa, the book would still offer encouragement and comfort. Today, more than ever, she felt her grandfather’s absence. What would he think of all that had transpired with Peter and the decision she’d made? Grandfather had always been fond of Peter.
But that didn’t matter anymore, and she needed to stop thinking about the preacher she loved with the sensitive eyes, strong arms, and a caring heart. She was beginning an adventure, something she’d dreamed of not for days, weeks, or months, but years. But instead of feeling giddy with excitement, her nervous stomach churned the scrambled eggs and fried bacon Gram insisted she eat for breakfast. It had taken two cups of strong coffee to pry Sarah’s eyes open after a sleepless night.
The decision to move to Milwaukee would prove right for both her and Peter. She’d begin a new life where she could find purpose and leave painful memories behind, and he could get on with his life as a leader in the community without anything holding him back.
Sarah wanted to believe—she needed to believe—that God had called her to serve him in a noble way. But questions had plagued her thoughts throughout the night. What if things didn’t go well in Milwaukee? It would be humiliating to return a failure.
Maybe she was being selfish for leaving. She’d accused Peter of not loving her the way he should, but was her love strong enough to stay and give up her dreams for his? In her eagerness to feel free from the past, she’d made a life-changing decision without God’s direction or confirmation. What if this wasn’t what he wanted for her?
Lord, if I’m making a mistake, please show me. Sarah closed her bag, carried it downstairs, and put it next to the trunk sitting near the front door.
“I’ve packed ham sandwiches, fruit, and gingersnap cookies for your trip.” Her grandmother dabbed her nose with a handkerchief. “It’s not fancy, but it will keep you and William from starving.”
“That’s sweet of you to go to all that trouble.”
“There’s a dining car on the train, and you’ll be making stops along the way, but nothing is as satisfying as what’s prepared at home.”
“I agree.” Sarah had taken Gram’s tasty dishes for granted. She should have accepted the cooking tips Gram had offered instead of brushing them off as a nuisance.
The older woman blinked and wiped her nose again. “With Thanksgiving only six weeks away, you’re not apt to make the trip home then. But I hope you’ll try to be here for Christmas.”
Sarah kissed her grandmother on the forehead. “I’ll do my best.” After struggling with the ornery, strong-headed woman for years, it unexpectedly hit Sarah that she’d miss Gram.
“I think someone is knocking at the front door.”
The hands on the kitchen clock had moved to eight and twelve, and the grandfather clock in the parlor bonged. “It’s Will. As always, right on time.”
“Don’t forget this.” Gram handed Sarah the basket filled with food.
“He’d be upset if I did.” Sarah grasped the handles, surprised at the weight. “Are you sure you didn’t make enough sandwiches for everyone on the train?” She winked a
t her grandmother, who managed a slight smile in return.
“Go on. Don’t keep him waiting.”
A man’s silhouette showed through the lace curtains hung on a front window. Sarah set the basket next to the bag stuffed with personal items and opened the door. Disappointment rushed through her, overtaking other emotions. In that brief moment before seeing Will, a flicker of hope sparked within that she’d find Peter standing there.
“Ready to go?” Will pointed to a small wagon with two plush benches where a young man sat in the driver’s seat. “George is sending us off in comfort. Oliver will take us to the train station in Martindale.”
“Mr. Carter is very kind.” Sarah glanced at the belongings sitting next to the door.
“There’s plenty of room in the back for your trunk.” Will picked up one end and put it down. “What did you pack in this thing? You know two horses can only pull so much weight.” A smile flashed across his face. “I’ll need Oliver’s help with this one.”
Nothing compared to the weight she carried in her heart. This was it. She was really saying good-bye to Peter. Had he felt any sadness when he left her behind for college all those years ago? Or had he only been enthusiastic for what lay ahead?
“If you’re so concerned, we could always leave behind the lunch basket Gram packed for us. It weighs almost as much as my trunk.”
Will chuckled. “Not acceptable.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to pray the animals are strong enough for the load, or you’ll have to lighten it by walking.”
He whistled and waved to Oliver. The young man jumped off the wagon and took the porch steps two at a time.
Her shoulders relaxed. Will seemed to accept the kind of relationship she was willing to offer. If true, he’d be a welcome companion in an unfamiliar city.
The trunk and other bags loaded, Sarah gave her grandmother one last hug at the wagon. She’d said good-bye to Mrs. Jorgenson the night before, and Ellie, Thomas, their children, and Mary while at the farm yesterday. No turning back now.
Over her grandmother’s shoulder, Sarah spotted Peter and Mary running toward them. Sarah almost had to lean on Gram for support. Why? Why would he come now and make this even more difficult than it was already?
“Sarah!” Mary let go of her father’s hand and wrapped her small arms, as far as they could reach, around Sarah’s hips.
She couldn’t look at Peter, not yet. Sarah grasped the child’s hands in her own and held them in front of her, kneeling so she could be at eye level with Mary. Tears streamed down the child’s face, and her nose ran.
“Oh, my...” Sarah’s heart crumbled. Fumbling through the small bag hanging from her wrist, she found a clean handkerchief and wiped first Mary’s cheeks and then her nose.
“I’m sorry.” Stubble covered Peter’s jaw, and his eyes were bloodshot. “She insisted on seeing you off.”
Had he come only because of Mary? Or did he—like her—yearn for one last look? It appeared that he hadn’t slept any better than she had the night before. Now maybe he understood what she’d gone through each time he’d slipped away from her.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Sarah brushed several curls from the child’s face.
“I don’t want you to go...” The little girl’s chin quivered. “I prayed that God would make you stay. But you’re going with that man, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” Sarah released a sigh, wishing she could undo Mary’s hurt with the same ease. “And I’m sorry that makes you sad. But I’ll write letters, and I’ll visit at Christmas.”
Mary laid her head on Sarah’s shoulder. “But I’ll miss you.”
Sarah held the child tightly and rubbed her back. “I’m going to miss you, too, honey.” Even more than she’d realized. How was she going to let go of this sweet little girl?
“Come here, sweet pea.” Peter grabbed Mary and swung her up into his arms. “Sarah has a train to catch.”
“Are you ready?” Will stood waiting patiently, and Oliver sat in the driver’s seat with reins in hand. Sarah’s belongings had been loaded. She only needed to join them.
Peter set Mary on the ground and grabbed Sarah’s arm as she raised her foot to step up into the wagon. “Please stay.” His voice, kept low, held a hint of hope.
Both Peter and Mary had begged her to stay, and now they stood before her, tugging on her heartstrings. Lord God, is this what you want?
“I have to do this.” Aware that others watched, Sarah spoke as quietly as she could.
“No, you don’t. We can find a way.” Peter’s firm tone sounded confident, but she’d never seen his eyes so full of pain.
To see him struggle with tears unsettled her. He’d broken a promise, and he’d let her down more than once. How could she be sure that his feelings were about her and not just his daughter’s happiness?
“Peter, please understand. I—can’t.” Sarah choked out the words, then picked up her skirt, and with Will’s help, stepped up into the wagon. He jumped in on the other side and settled next to her. “Gram, I’ll write once I get settled.” She waved at Mary. “I’ll send you a postcard as soon as I can.” Her eyes locked on to Peter’s, and the raw hurt she witnessed tore her heart to shreds.
“Let’s go, Oliver.” As the wagon lurched forward, Will settled back against the seat.
They approached Mrs. Jorgenson’s home. She must have been watching for them, because the door flung open, and the gentle woman stepped out on her porch and waved. Sarah returned the gesture, a lump forming in her throat.
As they drove through town, she drank in the surroundings they were leaving behind. The church where she and Ellie had become close friends and where she’d encouraged young people to trust God for their futures. The Home Store, where Mr. Carter had taught her about treating people fairly. She’d experienced God’s presence at the river more than any other place. Alice had offered her wisdom and kindness whenever Sarah had visited the Carters’ home. Sarah had grown up without parents, but people in this town had become her family.
Her eyes misted at seeing the bluff where she and Peter had shared so much. Somehow, the good memories she’d gathered over the years finally outweighed any hurtful words or actions toward her. Sarah’s past had been filled with much pain, but those experiences didn’t compare to the joyful moments.
They reached the outskirts of town. The wagon bounced along, but not as hard as another model would have, given the rough country roads.
Will sat on the edge of their bench and leaned over the one in front of them. “Oliver, pull over.”
The driver guided the horses to the side of the road.
“Why are we stopping?” Sarah glanced behind. Nothing had fallen out the back. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes, there is.” Will leaned his arm along the back of the seat and faced her. “Having second thoughts?”
Sarah tried to sniff without making it obvious. “Why do you ask?”
“For someone who claims she’s getting something she’s wanted, you’re not acting very happy about it. Instead of a smile, all I see is a young woman about to fall apart. You’ve got enough water in those pretty blue eyes to fill a swimming hole.”
She swallowed. “I just...Yes, I’m having second thoughts.”
“Sarah, look.” Will groaned. “You know I want you in Milwaukee. I’d settle for being friends, but I’ve kept holding on to the chance it could grow into more—at least once I got you away from here.” He rubbed his jaw. “But I know what I saw back there. You love Peter, and he’s so tortured by you leaving he’d probably pack up his daughter and come with you if you asked.”
“You have a big imagination, Mr. Reed.” Sarah bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering.
“Not this time.” He drew a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
“You can’t run away from mistakes or memories, can you?” Sarah drew the handkerchief over her cheek. “You have to deal with them, or they follow wherever you go.”
<
br /> He managed a weak smile. “Like my gambling problems.”
“Yes.” She fingered the handkerchief in her hands. “I forgave Peter for hurting me, but I’m not sure I can trust him again.” But how could she forgive him and then withhold her love and willingness to heal their relationship?
How self-righteousness. She’d been too stubborn to accept Peter’s request that she stay because a small part of her wanted him to hurt like she had those years before, when he’d left her behind.
But that wasn’t love. That wasn’t living by faith. She was acting like she hadn’t learned anything at all about God’s desire for relationship with him and others. Her place remained with Peter—it always had. He’d made mistakes, and it had cost him. Now he needed grace. They both did. Father, please forgive me.
“So, are we going to keep going straight ahead or change direction? What do you want to do, Sarah?”
“Will, I can’t go with you.” Sarah felt light enough to float away with the brisk October breeze.
“Oliver, turn this thing around and take us back into town. No—make that the parsonage.” A smile, ever so slight, grew on Will’s face. “I hope you know how much I’m giving up right now.”
“Thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek.
The horses couldn’t move fast enough to suit Sarah, but in less than fifteen minutes they pulled up to the parsonage.
Mary dropped the ball she’d tossed into the air. “Daddy! Sarah’s back!”
Peter stood, dropped his Bible, bolted from the porch steps toward the wagon, then halted in the middle of the yard while Will helped Sarah down.
Will climbed back into the wagon next to Oliver, then leaned over. “I’m going to miss you, Sarah McCall.”
“The truth—I’m going to miss you too.” Sarah’s change in plans was bittersweet. She would miss him. She couldn’t give him what he wanted in a relationship, but she’d pray that he’d find someone special soon. “Thank you, Will. For everything.” She reached up and grasped his hand. “You’ve been a good friend.”
“We’ll swing by the house and drop your things off there.”
