Where the Heart Is Romance Collection

by Andrea Boeshaar

“I remember.”

  “He did indeed open a way to Olivia’s heart. It involved bee stings and broken honeycombs, but the outcome was forgiveness and redemption. Olivia and I get along fine now.”

  Caleb leaned forward. “You’re not going to tell me more, are you?”

  Leah smoothed her skirt then folded her hands in her lap.

  Caleb leaned back. “Very well. Who gave Joseph permission to bring a woman to the farm?”

  “Your aunt. Delia, that’s Joseph’s intended, is a wonderful cook, and Rose offered her a position.”

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “Christmas Day, I believe, although it may be earlier. Joseph and Delia plan to be married during a First Day meeting.”

  “Joseph is going to the Quaker meetings?”

  “He is. Stephen goes with us, too.”

  Caleb leaned forward, his hands gripping the chair’s arms. “My son is becoming a Quaker?” he asked, his surprise evident in his voice.

  “No, although I don’t think that would be a bad thing. He comes to play with my youngest cousin, John.”

  “Hmm.” Caleb relaxed in his chair and turned his gaze to the window once again. “How much money did Rose send?”

  Leah thought about the bulging pocket underneath her skirt. “Hundreds of dollars. Shall I give it to thee now?”

  “Is it in your reticule?”

  Leah looked at her small bag. “No. I’ll go into the bedroom and get it.” She stepped into a bedroom, closed the door, and lifted the hem of her skirt. She’d just begun to unbutton the secret pocket when she heard the door swing open.

  “Aren’t you the smart one?” Caleb asked. “Surely there’s no place more secure than a Quaker’s petticoat.”

  Leah dropped her skirt and whirled toward the door. Her husband stood in the doorway, a look of amusement on his face.

  Leah smoothed her skirt. “Doesn’t thee knock before entering a lady’s room?”

  Caleb bowed. “My apologies. I thought you’d come in here to get your traveling bag, and I wanted to tell you Matthew had put it in the other bedroom.”

  Leah tucked wisps of hair under her prayer cap. Then, aware that her hands were flying around her face like moths to a lantern, she clasped her hands behind her back. “I was afraid to leave such a large sum of money unguarded.”

  “So I see. Will you give it to me now?”

  “Will thee please wait in the other room?”

  Caleb crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned on the bureau. “I don’t think so.”

  Leah narrowed her eyes. What game was he playing? She had no reason to be modest around her husband, and yet he wasn’t her husband. Not really. She turned her back to him, reached under her skirt, and retrieved the money. She placed it on the bureau and stepped back.

  Caleb took the money and counted it. “This should be enough to last us several weeks if we choose to stay at the hotel. But I have been given medical leave and am anxious to return home.”

  Leah thought of how difficult the trip to Washington had been. “I’m concerned about thy ability to make the journey. Would thee consider waiting until thy strength returns?”

  “Perhaps. But if I have to sit in this hotel room with nothing to do but worry about my family and wonder about my regiment, I’ll be as miserable as I was in the hospital.”

  “Does thee enjoy reading? There’s a stationer’s shop nearby. I could buy some books for thee.”

  “That would be a good start. And while you’re out, see if you can find information about concerts or lectures or plays in the city. Anything to break the monotony of being in the same room, hour after hour.”

  Leah brushed past Caleb, returned to the sitting room, and retrieved her bonnet and cape. “I understand thee is tired of bed, but try to rest until I return. There are worse treatments than radish leaves, and I’m not above trying them on thee.”

  For the first time that day, Caleb smiled. “Did my Quaker wife make a joke? Why Leah Wall, I didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”

  There was a lot her husband didn’t know about her, but Leah declined the opportunity to point that out. She smiled and walked out of the room. Concerts, lectures, and plays. Life in the capital certainly was different from Newport.

  Caleb closed the novel and looked over at the park bench where Leah sat with her sewing. “I believe this is my favorite of Mr. Dickens’s novels. I’ve read them all, you know.”

  “What is it thee likes so much about Great Expectations?”

  “The main character, Pip, is a fine fellow. He’s been mistreated, as all of Mr. Dickens’s characters seem to be, and I fear love will play him for a fool. But he’s got a brave heart, and that will most likely see him through to the end.”

  Leah looked at the book on Caleb’s knee. “I’d like to read it when thee has finished, but thee mustn’t spoil the ending for me.”

  “Have you read any of Mr. Dickens’s stories?”

  “None. Reading novels was considered a waste of time in Uncle Abram’s house.”

  “I have several of Mr. Dickens’s books at home. I’ll gladly lend them to you.” Caleb covered his mouth with his hand and yawned, leaned his head against the back of the bench, and closed his eyes.

  Leah waited for the steady breathing she’d come to recognize as sleep. During the first nights at the hotel, she’d sat by his bedside and nursed him through feverish dreams, but bit by bit, the fever had left his body, and peaceful slumber had done its part to restore his health.

  Matthew took over the nursing duties in the daylight hours, allowing Leah a chance to sleep on the sitting room settee. But as Caleb’s health improved, the sleeping arrangements had become more awkward. Husbands and wives slept together. That was the way Leah had been raised, and that was what Matthew had expected when he’d placed Leah’s traveling bag in Caleb’s bedroom. But once Caleb began sleeping through the night, there was no reason for Leah to keep vigil.

  One night after Matthew bade them good night, Caleb asked Leah to join him in the sitting room. “You’ve been a most attentive nurse,” he said, “but your eyes are showing the effects of sleepless nights.”

  Leah’s fingers had automatically gone to the dark circles she knew were shadowing her eyes, but she said nothing.

  “You will take the bed from now on, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  “No,” Leah protested. “Thee needs rest and the cold floor will do thee no good. I can continue to sleep on the settee.”

  Caleb’s frown communicated his disdain for her idea. “You’re too tall for that tiny settee. How you’ve curved your body to fit into it is a mystery. If you don’t get real rest soon, our roles as patient and nurse will be reversed. And I warn you, I do not make a good nurse. Would you prefer me to speak to Matthew? He could share my room, or I could rent a room for you.”

  “No,” she answered, more forcefully than she intended.

  Caleb raised an eyebrow in question, and Leah hurried to explain. “Matthew doesn’t need to know the details of thy agreement with my uncle.”

  “I see. You’ve spoken with your uncle about that agreement?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And what did you think about it?”

  Leah felt her heart shutter itself against the pain of her uncle’s bargain. She’d been so foolish on her wedding day, secretly rejoicing to be a wife. Who had she been to think a man like Caleb had truly desired her? “Does it matter?” Leah said in what she hoped was a casual tone. “I am married. I made a vow before God to love, honor, and obey thee until death parts us. I will do my best to fulfill those vows.”

  “To love, honor, and obey me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well I certainly have no complaints about your obedience, and your behavior has honored my name, but how can you vow to love me? You don’t love me, do you Leah?”

  How could she answer such a question? She loved his family, she loved her new home, but she didn’t know her husband. “I
could ask the same question of thee, Caleb Whitaker. Thee vowed to love, honor, and comfort me. How does thee plan to fulfill thy vows?”

  Caleb couldn’t meet her gaze, and Leah knew her words had hit a sore spot. “I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. “Perhaps it’s best if we don’t speak of such matters. I confess my pride took a beating when Uncle Abram told me he’d bartered me away like a bondservant, but the Bible teaches us pride is a barrier to the Lord’s will. I’ve tried to humble myself and listen for the Holy Spirit’s guidance.”

  “And what has the Holy Spirit told you so far?”

  “That perhaps I am of use to thee and thy family.” Leah smiled as images of Stephen and Olivia formed in her mind. “Thy children have captured my heart. Stephen’s mind is open to all the wondrous things of God’s universe. He marvels at the wings of dragonflies and the swiftness of squirrels, and his questions never, never stop. Thy beautiful daughter is like a young bird, perched on the precipice of adulthood. One day she is eager to try her wings and fly toward independence; the next day she clings to her girlhood, fussing with her dolls or playing make-believe with school friends.”

  Caleb held out his hands, palms up. “You have indeed been of use to me and my family, and I thank you for it.”

  Leah looked at her husband’s hands. He was clearly waiting for her to place her hands in his. “It’s hardly necessary to thank me.”

  “And yet I do.”

  Leah’s heart warmed at his words. She gently laid her hands on top of his, and he closed his fingers around them.

  “But we still have the issue of beds to solve,” Caleb said. “If you do not wish Matthew to know of our arrangement, we’ll share the bed. You have no need to fear any unwanted actions on my part.”

  How Leah wanted to tell him she’d never been afraid of him. How she yearned to tell him she longed to be a true wife. But she couldn’t. The gift of bold speech had never been one of her talents, and her tongue failed her once again. “Very well,” she said meekly.

  She’d gone into the bedroom, undressed, and pulled the wrapper tight against her shift. She slid under the covers and lay on her side, her face to the wall, and her muscles taut. Caleb followed a few minutes later and dimmed the oil lamp on the bedside table. As she listened to him undress in the semidarkness, her mind filled with questions she’d never ask. Did he regret marrying her? Were his few months of military service worth the sacrifice he’d made?

  Caleb eased into the bed beside her, and Leah’s breath caught in her throat. Every nerve stretched to feel his presence beside her.

  They lay in silence, side by side, for several minutes, until Caleb whispered her name. “Leah?”

  “Yes?” she whispered.

  “Tell me about the farm.”

  She turned over and studied his profile. He lay on his back, one arm at his side, the other resting on his stomach. Neither darkness nor illness could diminish his handsomeness. His dark brows framed eyes that glistened in the soft moonlight, and his breath passed through his perfectly formed lips. He was homesick, she realized. Wistful for his family and home. She paused to gather her thoughts and sent a quick prayer heavenward. She needed the right words to comfort him.

  “My favorite spot is the orchard,” she began. “I put my beehives there in a shelter Joseph built, and I often go to tend the bees when they don’t really need my attention.”

  “What is it about the orchard that attracts you?”

  “The active stillness of the place.”

  A glint of moonlight shone on Caleb’s teeth as he smiled. “What does that mean?”

  “The orchard pretends to be a peaceful place, but it isn’t. At dawn the birds sing a raucous chorus as they flutter through the trees, quarreling over which tree belongs to whom. In the evening, it’s the insects’ turn to chirp and whirr as they fight over the last scraps of food, and at night, the trees are limned in silver as they dance at the wind’s command. Thy orchard is a place of promise. After the first snowfall, the trees will go dormant, protecting the forthcoming fruit as though it were King Solomon’s treasure. But spring always comes. No matter how bitter the winter, spring always comes.”

  “And my children? Tell me more about them.”

  Leah conveyed a second quick prayer, waiting for the words to form in her mind before answering. “In a few years, Olivia will undoubtedly marry and begin a family of her own, but her heart will always belong to thee. How she loves thee, Caleb. ‘My father is fighting in the cavalry,’ she tells her friends. ‘He rides better than any man in the county, and he knows everything about horses.’ She yearns for thy approval as she leaves her childhood behind and becomes a woman. Stephen, however, has no such qualms. He seldom pauses to consider our approval before acting. Joseph caught him climbing the barn rafters one day, and when I asked Stephen what he’d been doing, he simply answered, ‘Looking for bats.’ Such curiosity and adventurousness is a blessing, I think. Thy son’s bravery will serve him well as he grows into manhood.”

  Caleb closed his eyes and moved his hand toward Leah. Leah’s heart quickened as she placed her hand in his. “Thank you, Leah.” Then he rested their hands on the bed and surrendered to sleep.

  Leah let happy tears fall onto her pillow. Holding her hand was such a small thing, but Leah’s heart sang with hope.

  Chapter 8

  Leah sat at Caleb’s side, counting the hours until the train pulled into Newport Station. Caleb was not yet the healthy, robust man she’d met on her wedding day, but the combination of fresh air, good food, and her honey concoctions had restored some of his strength and vigor.

  She longed to see Olivia and Stephen. How their faces would glow when they saw their father again. But she dreaded giving Uncle Abram and Aunt Cynthia the news that Matthew had stayed in Washington. He’d chosen to work as an orderly at the same hospital where Caleb had convalesced, and although she carried a letter he’d written to his mother and father explaining his need to do something to help the cause, Leah knew it would be little comfort to her aunt Cynthia.

  Caleb closed the book he’d been reading for the last hour and passed it to Leah.

  “Finally finished?” she asked. “How was it?”

  “Very good. There’s an unexpected twist in the story and redemption in the end, but I’ll say no more, lest I spoil it for you.”

  “Redemption in the end? That’s a worthwhile promise. I’ll start on it tonight.”

  Caleb stretched his arms above his head. “We’ll be pulling into the Newport depot in less than an hour. I can smell it.”

  Leah grinned. “I didn’t know thy nose had such power.”

  “It’s the smell of rich Indiana farm land. Makes me eager to get back to the fields. I’ve missed the apple harvest, but there’s still plenty of work that needs doing.”

  “I hope thee doesn’t push thyself too much. Thee doesn’t make a good patient.”

  Caleb returned her smile. “I don’t?”

  “No thee doesn’t. Cranky. That’s the word for thee.”

  “Humph.” Caleb’s mouth drew downward, as though he was considering her words. “There are worse affronts. Besides I would find it difficult to refute that description.”

  Leah threw her head back with laughter, and Caleb joined her.

  “But didn’t you enjoy some part of your trip to our nation’s capital?” he asked.

  “It was an adventure, I have to admit. I can’t wait to tell the children we saw President Lincoln’s pet goats.”

  Caleb shook his head slowly. “One has to wonder at the nature of our president. What type of man is prepared to wage war to keep the Union together, and yet is tenderhearted enough to keep goats as pets?”

  “Does thee really believe this fighting will continue?”

  “Who knows? But the Southern states show no sign of coming to their senses, so I fear our nation is headed for a true civil war.”

  “I’m glad thee is finished with fighting.”

  “Don’t be so su
re, Leah. I’ll go back if my regiment calls me.”

  Leah’s chest hurt with the thought of Caleb leaving again. During the past three weeks, she’d come to care for him, to appreciate his kindness, and to tolerate his impatient nature.

  She placed a hand over her aching heart. “But how can thee? Thee knows what battle is like, I heard thee shouting during thy fevered dreams, yelling orders to invisible soldiers, and cursing the death of thy comrades. And thee would go back to that?”

  “If I’m needed, I’ll go back. I know we differ on this, Leah. Quakers are well known for their pacifist beliefs. But I’m not a Quaker.”

  But he was her husband, and she’d vowed to obey him. She had many more arguments against war stored in her mind, but she’d keep quiet for now. Keep quiet and pray for Caleb.

  Caleb nudged her with his shoulder. “Was there anything else you enjoyed about Washington? Other than the president’s goats, that is.”

  “The hotel was an eye-opener. So many people! The chambermaid told me the Willard had space for a thousand guests. Can thee imagine it? A thousand people in one place?” Leah shuddered at the thought.

  Caleb chuckled and slid his arm across her shoulders. “Anything else, Leah?”

  What was he hinting at? “The food was very good. I’d never eaten at a hotel before, but it was very appetizing.”

  Caleb moved closer, until his chest nudged her arm. “Wasn’t there anything else you liked?” He pulled the strings of her prayer cap. “Maybe in the evenings?”

  “Is thee referring to the concert we attended? That was most interesting. We Friends avoid music since it is a worldly pursuit, but I have to admit the concert was a wonderful experience.”

  Caleb frowned. “I’m glad you enjoyed the orchestra, but I wasn’t referring to the concert.” He moved closer.

  What did Caleb want from her? “No?” she whispered.

  “No.” He caressed her jaw. “I was thinking about the nights, Leah. Lying side-by-side, whispering in the dark. Did being near me please you?”

  Leah straightened her body and took a deep breath. What should she say? How could she answer him? Should she admit how difficult it’d been to stay on her side of the bed? Could she tell him she’d longed to lay her head on his shoulder and feel his arms around her?