Fields of Grace

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Lillian carefully considered his arguments. While she saw the sense of his suggestion, one question remained. But how could she ask it? She had loved Reinhardt. Slipping into his bed had never been distasteful. But although she knew, liked, and respected Eli, she could not profess to feelings stronger than simple friendship. Would he expect her to be his wife in every sense?

  The silence lengthened, and Eli heaved a huge sigh. “I know you have much about which to think. I will not press you for an answer tonight. You take your time. Pray about it.”

  Lillian licked her lips. Yes, she must seek the Father’s will.

  Eli went on quietly. “If you decide yes, the captain will marry us before the ship docks.” He pulled in a deep breath that expanded his chest. “If you decide yes, we will start out in the new land as a new family.”

  He didn’t say what they would do if she chose to decline his offer.

  9

  Eli crept to the deck, mounting the stairs on tiptoe to be as quiet as possible. His fellow passengers slept; he didn’t want to disturb them. But he must follow Henrik. Only moments ago, he had wakened and spotted the boy slipping around the corner toward the stairs.

  In the three days since they’d lowered Reinhardt and Jakob into the sea and moved Joseph to sick bay, Henrik had been uncommunicative, holding himself aloof from everyone. Eli had witnessed Lillian’s despondence at her eldest son’s withdrawal, and her heartache ate at him. Henrik must be made to see how his coldness affected his mother. A quiet chat at night, with no listening ears of other passengers or with Lillian at hand to interfere, might be what was needed to bring a change in Henrik’s behavior. At least, Eli prayed it would be so.

  The moon hung high and bright in a cloudless sky, bathing the deck in soft light. Henrik sat with his back against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees and his gaze heavenward. Wind ruffled his brown hair and lifted the open flaps of his jacket. For a moment, Eli resisted approaching him. The boy looked deep in thought. Should he intrude? But then an image of Lillian’s worried face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, drove him forward. As he approached, Henrik turned his head. A scowl creased his face.

  “I came up here to be alone.”

  Eli sat and pulled up his knees, imitating Henrik’s pose. It provided a bit of warmth against the night air. He looked at the bone white moon suspended in a velvet black sky and spoke in a mild tone. “You have been alone for days. Is it not time to set aside your pout?”

  Henrik huffed and pressed his palms to the wooden deck, poised to jump up and flee.

  Quick as a striking snake, Eli threw out one arm and caught Henrik’s wrist, preventing him from rising. “We must talk.”

  The boy’s expression soured. He jerked his wrist free. “I have nothing to say.”

  “Then listen.” Eli shifted his head to look directly into Henrik’s narrowed eyes. “You want to be a man. I understand that. Every boy is eager to assume manhood, and in only weeks you will reach the age of manhood. But there is more to manhood than age, Henrik. There is maturity, which includes setting aside one’s own wants to see to the needs of others.

  “Your mother has suffered great loss. She has need of your presence now, of your support and understanding.” Again, Lillian’s pain-filled face appeared in Eli’s memory, spurring him to assume a sterner tone than he had ever used with Henrik. “By holding yourself distant, you are piling more hurt on her already broken heart. Is that what you intend?”

  Henrik’s scowl didn’t ease, but he shook his head. “I am not trying to hurt Ma.”

  “Then what is it?”

  The boy stared into Eli’s face, his lips puckered. Eli waited, silent, giving Henrik the opportunity to collect his thoughts. But several minutes ticked by without Henrik speaking. Finally, Eli opened his mouth to question him again.

  “I have been trying to figure out how I will take care of Ma and Joseph.” The words blurted out, as if Henrik shared them against his will.

  “I see.” Eli offered a slow nod. He glanced at the speckled pathway cast by the moon on the water and then looked again at Henrik. “Have you reached a decision?”

  Henrik’s sigh formed a brief cloud in the cool night air. “I will have to work, at least until Joseph is old enough to earn money to provide for Ma. When he is old enough, I will go to a university, just as I had planned in Russia, and become a teacher. When I have my certificate, then I will take care of Ma and give Joseph his freedom to pursue his own dreams.”

  Eli’s heart swelled. Henrik had been using his time of isolation to make good plans. He only wished the boy had shared his ideas with his mother; her worry would have been eased considerably had she realized she was at the center of his thoughts.

  “I can see you want what is best for your mother and your brother.”

  Henrik nodded and looked away. The pinched look around his eyes led Eli to believe other thoughts rolled through the boy’s mind, but he wouldn’t press him to reveal them. Sometimes a man needed to hold thoughts inside.

  “When do you plan to tell your mother this idea?”

  Henrik’s shoulders rose and fell in one shrug.

  “We reach New York in only a few more days.” Eli waited for acknowledgment. When none came, he added, “I, too, have an idea for caring for your mother.”

  Henrik turned his face in Eli’s direction, and suddenly Eli felt shy. Yet Henrik wasn’t a little boy to be kept out of decisions. He should be told. So Eli drew in a big breath and admitted, “I have offered to marry Lillian and be a provider for her and for you boys.”

  Henrik spun, fully facing Eli. “Marry her!”

  “Jo, that is right.”

  The boy shook his head. “B-but Father only just died. Mother loves him still. How can she marry you?”

  Eli felt heat rise in his cheeks. He didn’t need Henrik’s reminder that Lillian held no love for him. Setting aside his deep desire for a wife who was devoted to him was difficult, yet he believed taking care of Lillian was the honorable thing to do.

  “People marry for many reasons.” Eli spoke to himself as much as to Henrik. “Love is one reason. You are right in that . . . that love beyond Christian caring does not exist between your mother and me. But sometimes a union is made because it is the sensible choice.”

  Eli swallowed the disappointment that accompanied his words and went on firmly. “For your mother and me, getting married is sensible. We respect and admire each other, and we share a faith in God. We both love you boys. It is a more solid foundation than many have, and I believe, for the two of us, it will be enough.”

  He tugged his jacket flaps together to block the slight spray of water that spritzed over the edge of the deck. “I respect your desire to become a teacher, and I know your mother wishes to see you complete your education. If she and I marry, then you need not provide for her. You could go to school, just as you had hoped, and not be burdened with caring for a mother and brother.”

  “Has Ma agreed to marry you?”

  Eli crunched his eyebrows. “She has not given me an answer yet.” Lillian would need to decide soon. The days were slipping by quickly.

  Henrik pushed to his feet. “I will talk to her in the morning. She needs to hear my plans.”

  Eli rose and put a hand on Henrik’s shoulder. “Yes. Talk to your mother. She hungers for time with you. And it will do her much good to know you are concerned for her.”

  “I am more than concerned. I am—” The boy stopped, turning his face toward the water and pressing his lips together.

  “You are . . . ?” Eli prompted, giving Henrik’s shoulder a slight squeeze.

  But Henrik stepped away from his touch. “Nothing. I will speak to Ma in the morning.” He strode away.

  Eli watched Henrik until he disappeared around the corner. He should follow, return to his bunk, and sleep, but he remained on deck, shivering in the night breeze.

  If Lillian agreed to Henrik’s plan, then Eli would not be needed as a provider. He wo
uld have lost not only his dear foster brother Reinhardt, but all of Reinhardt’s family, too. He would be—just as he had been at the age of six—alone.

  Lifting his face again to the moon, where it seemed a placid face peered back at him, he asked himself a question: Was it selfishness or selflessness that had prompted him to ask Lillian Vogt to become his wife?

  “Oh, Henrik.” Lillian embraced her son, pulling his head into the curve of her shoulder just as she had when he was a little boy. He didn’t fit as well, but still it felt good to hold him, if only for a moment. She released him and cupped his cheeks, offering a quavering smile. “I am so proud of you for wanting to take care of your brother and me.”

  Henrik nodded, his face solemn. He shifted slightly on her bunk, making the straw-filled mattress crackle. His gaze flitted briefly to the bunk Jakob had occupied, which was now folded against the wall behind their heads. Did the sight of that unused bunk pierce him with pain as it did her?

  Her son cleared his throat and swiped his hand over his face. “I looked in on Joseph this morning. The doctor said he is much improved. He should be well enough to leave the ship when we dock.”

  Lillian nearly sagged with relief. Two constant prayers had hovered on her heart: Lord, bring healing to Joseph and Lord, return my Henrik to me. Now it seemed both prayers had been answered. A dark thought intruded: If God had answered her prayers to restore Reinhardt’s health and to protect her children, perhaps her family would still be intact.

  She refused to give that thought root. Instead, she chose to praise God for Henrik’s change in attitude. Warmth flowed through her chest as she recalled his fervently worded plan of caring for her and Joseph. He was such a good boy.

  Tipping forward, she kissed his cheek. Whiskers pricked against her lips, and she reared back in surprise. Her boy was fast becoming a man. “I thank you, Henrik, for your concern.”

  “So you will let me provide for you?”

  Lillian opened her mouth to give a positive response, but something held her tongue. Was it fair to expect Henrik to assume such responsibility at his young age? He had hopes and dreams that deserved fulfillment. God had gifted him with intelligence. Henrik was a scholar—Lillian had always recognized that. If she accepted his offer, he would be forced to push his dreams aside for her. That didn’t seem right.

  Licking her lips, Lillian formed a cautious response. “En Sän, I love you, and I want what is best for you. Will you give me time to pray and seek God’s will? I must have complete peace before I give you an answer.”

  A scowl briefly puckered Henrik’s forehead, but he nodded. “Very well, Ma. I understand. I will give you time to pray.”

  She caught his hand. “And you pray, too, Henrik. We must follow God’s will.”

  The scowl returned, more fierce than before. He gave another brusque nod and rose from the bunk. But then he stood, staring down at her with an unreadable expression. “Ma?”

  “Yes, son?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing. You . . . you pray, and we will talk again tomorrow.” He departed, leaving Lillian alone. Since the storm, when they had all been forced to remain in the hallway all day and all night, most passengers avoided the sleeping hallways when they could. Lillian appreciated the privacy, for it gave her an opportunity to think and pray without distraction.

  She sat with her eyes closed, her mind bouncing back and forth between Henrik’s offer and Eli’s. Which would benefit her sons most? Which held God’s will for her? She spent the entire morning wrestling with herself, but when noon arrived, she still had no answer. With a sigh, she rose from the bunk and stretched, easing the taut muscles in her back and neck.

  Slowly, she walked up the stairs to the upper level. Passengers filled the sunny deck, waiting for the cook to ring the dinner bell. Some stood in groups, visiting quietly; others sat with their backs against the wall, snoozing; still others paced slowly back and forth. A couple ambled from her left, their hands clasped and their gazes pinned to each other’s faces.

  Envy struck, harsh and unyielding. She missed Reinhardt. She missed having a husband to hold her hand and peer into her face with a smile that spoke of devotion. Although he had never been overtly affectionate, Lillian always felt secure in Reinhardt’s love for her. A lump of sorrow filled her throat, and she swallowed hard to hold back the tears that longed to follow.

  She turned away from the couple, and her gaze fell upon Henrik and Eli. They stood side by side at the edge of the deck, leaning their arms on the railing. As she watched, Henrik pointed at something out on the water. Eli nodded, then he put his arm across Henrik’s shoulders and gave a quick squeeze before leaning again on the rail.

  Something pleasant coiled through Lillian’s middle at the sight. Was this glimpse of Eli and Henrik meant to provide her answer? In every way, they appeared to be father and son. Realization swept over her. Eli might not love her, but he loved her boys. He had promised to care for them as well as for her. She knew he would encourage both Henrik and Joseph to love and follow God. Marrying Eli, although perhaps awkward for her, would be best for her sons.

  She needn’t wait to make a decision. The answer stared her in the face from twelve paces away. Catching her skirt between her fingertips, she squared her shoulders and moved toward Eli and Henrik to give her answer.

  10

  Lillian stood in the center of excited female attention. All through the long voyage, the women had mostly kept to themselves, but today every woman on board, from the youngest to the oldest, took an interest in Lillian.

  For today was her wedding day.

  Lillian allowed the women to fuss, one smoothing the wrinkles in her dark blue dress, another tucking stray wisps of hair into her bun. Someone had unpacked a delicate lace scarf of purest white and pinned it to Lillian’s hair. She had no flowers to carry, but a blushing young woman had offered a cluster of bright ribbons tied in the middle with a loose knot. The rumpled ends trailed over Lillian’s clasped hands and lay like a sleepy rainbow against her full skirt.

  While gazing down at the flurry of bright colors, the image suddenly blurred. Despite her best efforts to leave the past in the past, she couldn’t help but think of the day she’d pledged her love and life to Reinhardt. That day, her heart had been so full, she feared it would burst from her chest. Joyous anticipation had made her giddy. Oh, Lord, how I wish I could feel . . . something . . . for Eli. A woman should not enter into a union so beautiful and holy as marriage with only emptiness in her soul. She blinked rapidly to clear away the tears in her eyes.

  The women, their fussing complete, stepped back and nodded their heads in approval. They knew nothing of her inner turmoil. The woman Lillian had helped to the sick bay stepped forward and cupped her cheek. “You look lovely, Frau Vogt.”

  Lillian fought an urge to snatch the scarf from her head, toss the bright bouquet of ribbons on the floor, and confess that she did not want to marry a man she did not love. But what choice did she have? She must proceed with her plans; she must do this for her sons. Eli was a good man—a kind man who was willing to set everything aside to meet the needs of his foster brother’s family. Eli would see that Henrik went to school and that Joseph grew into a godly man. Squaring her shoulders, she staunchly lifted her chin. So she didn’t love Eli. There were worse things than a loveless marriage.

  She sent a tremulous smile around the circle of eager faces. “I thank you all for your help. You have been very kind.”

  Like a wave, the women moved in unison and propelled her toward the stairway. She stepped onto the deck and turned the corner to find Eli, the captain, and Henrik waiting.

  The captain’s serious, chin-held-high pose brought an air of formality to the simple setting. Just as she had chosen her best dress, Eli and Henrik had donned their finest suits. Although the jackets and pants bore wrinkles from their time in the tightly packed trunks, Lillian still appreciated the touch of elegance the fine clothes provided.

  A hand applied lightly
to her back sent her forward, away from the supportive circle of women, and she stepped to Eli’s side. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and then he angled his elbow for her to take hold. Her fingers trembled as they made contact. His muscles quivered beneath her fingertips, and she jerked her gaze to his face. Was he also nervous? She watched his hazel eyes drift from her head to her toes and up again. When he met her gaze, a slight smile curved the corners of his lips, forming a look of tender approval—one a groom fully in love with his bride might give.

  Her cheeks grew hot, and she quickly faced the captain.

  The man cleared his throat, opened a little book, and began to read. “On this day we join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony . . .”

  With his hands clasped tightly behind his back, Henrik listened to the captain read the wedding ceremony. The man’s emotionless tone contrasted starkly with the myriad of feelings coursing through Henrik’s middle.

  He glanced at his mother’s flushed face, and anger rose above all the other emotions. What did she think she was doing marrying Onkel Eli? Why hadn’t she trusted her own son to take care of her? His chest constricted painfully. He knew why. She blamed him for being on this ship—for the loss of her husband and youngest child. She didn’t want to be beholden to the one who had inflicted so much pain.

  He could no longer look at Ma’s solemn profile. Jerking his head to the side, he focused on a gull that circled far in the distance, a tiny speck floating above the water. She is only doing this out of desperation. She and Onkel Eli do not love each other!

  As if from a distance, he heard the captain say, “Elias Bornholdt, do you take this woman to be your legally wedded wife?”