by Amy Rognlie
“Look at this little tunnel!” Raine called to Grace. Peering through the wrought iron gate, she saw that the narrow passageway led under the house to a beautiful courtyard garden. Standing on tiptoe to see better, she felt the gate catch on her voluminous skirts. Still standing on tiptoe, she tried to extricate herself. She was afraid if she moved too much, the thin fabric would tear. And her favorite blue silk, too, she thought mournfully.
She glanced in her aunt’s direction, but she and Uncle John were energetically discussing the architecture of the house. Besides, Uncle John would tease her unmercifully if he had to rescue her from a gate. This is ridiculous, she scolded herself. I can’t just stand here stuck on this gate forever. Besides, what if the owner wants to visit his garden? Excuse me, miss. Could I just swing you aside to get through my gate please? She rolled her eyes.
“Raine!”
Prepared to yank her skirt loose, her hand froze. Had someone whispered her name?
“Raine Thomas!”
Her heart hammering, she surveyed the grounds. There, in the bushes. “Who are you?” she called.
The blond man stepped away from the shrubbery, his disfigured face in plain view. “Raine, I’ve been wanting—”
She heard the tear of fabric as she fled.
❧
After that a cloud of anxiety seemed to descend over Raine. Her anxiousness increased as the week wore on and she did not see Ben. Finally on Friday afternoon, a note was delivered to the house.
Dear Raine,
I’m finally free of my duties. May I come by tonight? Send a reply back with the messenger.
Yours,
Ben
Joyously, she scribbled a response. Handing the note back to the young messenger, she danced into the kitchen. “Auntie, Ben is coming tonight!”
Grace took in the sparkling eyes and glowing face of the younger woman. “I’d better bake an extra pie, then,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “You’d best get upstairs and get ready.”
“Thank you, Aunt Grace.” Raine pecked her aunt’s heat-flushed cheek. “What do you think I should wear?”
Her aunt rolled her eyes. “Good heavens, Raine. You act like you haven’t seen the man in a year! You look beautiful in anything. Now get out of my kitchen!” she ordered with a smile.
Raine dutifully trotted up the stairs, only to return minutes later. “How does my hair look like this?”
Grace glanced up from her pie crust. “You look lovely, dear. I’m sure your Ben will be pleased. Now, if I’m to get these pies done. . .”
“I’m going, I’m going!” Raine backed out of her aunt’s kitchen, almost knocking her uncle over. “Uncle John! I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were standing there!”
“Apparently not,” he agreed wryly. “You look especially glowing tonight. Are we going to be graced with the company of the dashing Captain Ben?” he teased.
Raine’s cheeks grew hot. Were her feelings that transparent?
“He’ll be here at six.”
“Good, good!” Uncle John boomed. “I’d like to spend some time getting to know the man that stole my gal’s heart.” Noting the look of consternation on her face, he patted her hand. “Don’t worry, honey. I won’t embarrass you.”
Raine gave him a weak smile. This evening might not go exactly as she had anticipated it. . .
The knock at the door at five minutes before six sent butterflies racing through Raine’s stomach. Stop being silly, she scolded herself in vain. Opening the door, her heart leapt at the sight of Ben’s tall form.
He touched her cheek with a gentle hand. “Hello, Raine,” he said softly.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of his face as he stepped through the door. “It seems like it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. . . I’m so glad you could come,” she whispered.
“So am—”
“Well, well!” Uncle John’s voice preceded him into the foyer. “Gracie, come greet our guest!”
The spell was broken. Raine giggled as she shrugged at Ben, watching him shift gears mentally.
“It’s nice to see you again, Captain Ben!” Uncle John pumped Ben’s hand with enthusiasm.
Though obviously taken aback at the zestful welcome, Ben gave Raine’s uncle a broad smile. “Thank you for having me, sir.”
“Now, none of that, young man. You must call us Grace and John.” Grace’s manner put Ben at ease instantly. “We’re not very formal at this house,” she added.
Soon the men were settled in the parlor to await supper. Raine disappeared into the kitchen with Grace, but couldn’t resist peeking in at Ben. Uncle John had launched into one of his favorite stories, delighted to tell it to someone who had never heard it before.
“I don’t think those two will lack for things to talk about,” she said.
Grace smiled. “Your uncle would gab all night if I let him.”
❧
By the time they sat down to the huge meal Grace had prepared, Ben felt like he had known Raine’s aunt and uncle all his life. Bowing his head as John said the blessing, he was unprepared for the emotions that assailed him. The biscuits had cooled before John finished praying, but Ben hardly noticed the length as he felt the joy and thankfulness emanating from the older man’s words.
What would it have been like to grow up in a family like this? Visions of his long-faced father droning out a mournful prayer filled his thoughts. Shaken more than he cared to admit, he was quiet for a few minutes before entering into the light banter going on around the table. Soon he was regaling them with stories of his own.
As the supper was nearly over Ben began yet another story, this one about his partner’s aunt, who had a habit of sneaking around Ben’s office making sure that Ben was “conducting business in the proper manner.”
“Yes, that Vida Daniels is one lady to reckon with,” Ben said, leaning back comfortably in his chair.
“Daniels!” Raine’s eyes flew wide with surprise. “But I thought she was—”
Ben grinned. “You thought she was what?”
“Younger,” she said lamely. She dropped her eyes in em-barrassment, obviously recalling the two elderly women who had been in Ben’s office that morning, and then she giggled in spite of herself. Fascinated, he watched the flicker of expressions cross her face.
Grace gave John a pointed look and the two excused themselves. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again, Ben,” Grace said. “You’re always welcome.”
Ben thanked his hosts, then turned to Raine as they left the room.
She said softly, searching his face, “I’ve missed you this week.”
“I missed you, too. It didn’t seem the same on the Caper-naum without you to brighten my day.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to come so I could tell you my good news.” Her eyes had taken on a glow. “You’ll never guess.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Does it have anything to do with a missing brother?”
“He’s not missing anymore! At least, I don’t think he is.” Her brow clouded suddenly.
“I’m afraid I lost you there, Raine.”
“Well, it seems that Papa knew where Paul was all along.”
“Was?”
She frowned. “That’s the problem. From what I gather, Paul survived the shipwreck, but Papa hasn’t heard from him since.”
An enormous wave of relief washed over him at her words. Taking her hand, he held it tightly. “Raine, you don’t know how glad I am to hear that Paul is alive. You see,” his voice broke, “as the captain of the Aramathea when it sank, all this time I’ve felt guilty for killing your brother, but now. . .” He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Raine stroked his hand with a gentle touch. “It wasn’t your fault, Ben,” she said quietly. “Even if Paul had died, it wouldn’t have been your fault. I’m sure you did the best job you could.” Her words felt like soothing balm on a burning wound. “We all make mistakes, Ben,” she said. Her sincerity was reflected in her eyes. “But w
hat matters now is that Paul is alive—and we need to find him!”
Ben reached out and caught her chin in his hand, staring deep into her eyes. When he fell in love with her picture so long ago, he didn’t realize that her lovely face was only a cover for her inner beauty.
She colored at his gentle touch but didn’t look away. Tenderly lowering his mouth to hers, he felt her sigh. He pulled her tight against his chest, his heart pounding.
Stop now, he told himself. Pushing her gently away, he sank down into the kitchen chair. He didn’t dare look at her, or he would take her in his arms again. “Go put on the tea kettle or something, would you, woman?”
Raine smiled at his gruff tone. She knew as well as he did that neither one of them had wanted the moment to end.
Hours later, they sat in the deepening twilight, the porch swing creaking underneath them. “Let’s read the message in the locket again now that we’re finally in Boston,” Ben suggested. “Tomorrow we can go find that address.”
She reached for the locket she always kept around her neck, then paused. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
His throat tightened at her serious tone. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, but I may be.” Taking a deep breath, she told him about the man she had seen in New York and now again in Boston.
❧
“Well, here we are!” Ben said the next morning as he drew the carriage to a halt in front of a large, two-story house on High Street.
Raine studied the old house as if it would speak and tell her where Paul was. Could it be possible that he lived here? She eyed the lacy curtains and well-tended herb garden dubiously.
“Are you ready to go in, Raine?” Ben asked.
She sighed. “I guess so. I just don’t know what to expect. What if I find out something I don’t want to know?”
Ben squeezed her hand as he helped her out of the carriage. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’ll be right with you the whole time.”
She tried to give him a brave smile as they walked up to the house, but she knew he must feel her trembling as they climbed up the wooden porch steps. The Lord is my shepherd, she told herself. I shall not want.
“Do come in!” a bright voice called in response to Ben’s knock.
Raine stared at Ben, frozen. He gave her a gentle push through the door.
“Who is it, please?” the voice asked.
Raine cautiously made her way into the cheery living room, stopping short as she saw an elderly woman in a wheelchair. Her snowy hair was caught up in an attractive bun, and a lacy shawl was draped over her thin shoulders. A smile lit her still beautiful face as she held out her hands in welcome. “Come in, dear,” she said kindly, her British accent warming her words. “How can I help you young people?”
Raine didn’t know what she had expected to find, but this certainly wasn’t it. Perhaps this wasn’t the right address.
“I’m Raine Thomas,” she said uncertainly.
“Oh!” The woman’s wrinkled face lit up at once, her bright eyes sweeping up to Raine’s right temple. “I knew you would come!”
Automatically, Raine put a protective hand over the birthmark. Why was this woman staring at her so intently?
Oblivious to Raine’s bewildered expression, the woman examined her, then sat back with a satisfied expression on her face. “You’re even more beautiful than Paul said you were.” She beamed at Raine. “And who might this be?” she asked, smiling at Ben.
“I’m Ben Thackeray, ma’am. But I’m afraid we don’t know who you are.” He exchanged glances with Raine.
“Oh?” The woman raised her eyebrows.
“Yes, ma’am. Paul sent me a message to come here, but I don’t know why.” Raine was starting to feel as confused as the elderly woman now looked.
“Well, I’m Violet Fornell,” the woman said, as if that ex-plained everything.
“Show her the note, Raine,” Ben said.
After Violet read the water-stained note that Raine had decoded, they explained to her how it had come to Raine. Violet’s look of puzzlement cleared slightly.
“So you see, Mrs. Fornell, we don’t know exactly why Paul sent us here. We were assuming you would clear that up for us,” Raine said.
Violet nodded, absently stroking a calico cat that slept in her lap. “How long has it been since you’ve seen your husband, dear?”
Raine blanched. “Paul is my brother, not my husband, Mrs. Fornell,” she explained, glancing at Ben. His eyes seemed to harden into blue glaciers as he stared back at her.
“Oh dear! I can’t imagine why Paul. . .but now that I look at you, I see you resemble him quite—”
“Did Paul ever actually say that Raine was his wife?” Ben interrupted.
Violet stared at him thoughtfully. “Well, I. . .no, I guess he didn’t. Not in so many words. But I just assumed from the way he talked about her. . .” Her words trailed off as she looked from Ben to Raine.
“We’re just as confused as you are, Mrs. Fornell,” Raine said, still looking at Ben. “It seems that Paul led a number of people to believe that he and I were something other than brother and sister.”
Avoiding Raine’s eyes, Ben spoke to Violet. “When was the last time you saw Paul, Mrs. Fornell?”
“Please, call me Violet.” She peered at him over her glasses. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I can tell you all I know. I last saw Paul about three years ago after that ship of his sank, and. . .”
“You saw him after the Aramathea sank?” Raine’s voice was eager.
“Why, yes. He lived here.” Violet was clearly perplexed.
“But. . .” Raine tried to compose her thoughts.
“He didn’t stay very long once he was well, but before he left, he gave me the key and told me to expect you, Raine.”
“What do you mean, once he was well?” Raine’s voice came out in a whisper.
“Well, my dear! Your brother had quite a time of it when the ship sank. He had to be in bed for quite awhile until that nasty gash healed properly, you know.” Violet looked from Raine’s pale face to the look of disbelief on Ben’s. “Surely you knew. . .”
Raine shook her head.
“Oh dear. I better start at the beginning,” Violet sighed. “Paul came to board with me shortly after he arrived here from England, I believe. I got to know him. . .quite well. In fact, he is very dear to me.” Violet dabbed at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. “I always prayed for his protection when he was on a voyage, but that last time was very unusual.”
“Unusual?” Raine moved a large fern so she could draw her chair close to Violet’s. Ben stood, his arms folded, his face tense.
“Yes. I had been concerned for him for some time. His soul, you know.”
Raine nodded. Yes, she knew too well.
“He was such a bitter, hurting young man.” Violet stared out the window. “Yet at the same time I knew his heart was still tender.”
“But the voyage?” Ben prompted.
“Ah yes, the voyage.” Violet smiled a faraway smile. “To make a long story short, I begged him not to go. I just felt in my spirit that he was not to go; that there was danger awaiting him. The Lord and I are on pretty good terms, you see.” Her face shone with that special glow that comes only from an intimate walk with one’s Savior.
Raine nodded, sensing the presence of the Spirit in this woman.
“Anyway, Paul wouldn’t hear of missing that voyage.” Violet sighed and glanced at her visitors. “I couldn’t stop him. But I prayed for him. Oh, how I prayed. One night, after Paul had been gone two weeks or so,” Violet continued, “I was awakened in the middle of the night. I knew it was the time of crisis. I begged God for Paul’s life, pleaded for his soul.”
“What day was that, Violet?” Ben’s face was pale.
“I believe it was the twenty-eighth of February, around two a.m.”
Ben dropped to his knees in front of her chair. “That’s the
day she sank,” he whispered.
Raine shook her head in wonder. “Thank You, God,” she breathed. The room was silent then, the gentle Spirit of God whispering to three listening hearts as rain pattered softly on the window pane.
Two cups of Earl Grey later, Violet was refreshed enough to finish her story. Raine gasped as Violet described Paul coming home late one night, his head and face swathed in bandages. Oh, Paul, she groaned inwardly. What happened that terrible night?
“I made sure he rested properly. The poor boy was nearly starved.” Violet said. “But as soon as he was well enough to get about on his own, he packed his bags.” The elderly woman closed her eyes, obviously picturing the young man she loved as a son.
“The last thing Paul did before he left was to give me the key,” Violet said quietly. “Hand me that box, dear.” She indicated a polished brass box on the mantle. Opening it, she drew out a small key and reverently handed it to Raine.
Raine took the key with a trembling hand. “But what is it for?”
“I thought you would know what it was for, Raine.” The older woman’s face was troubled.
Raine handed the key to Ben, who examined it carefully, then slipped it into his pocket. He leaned over and kissed Violet’s cheek. “We’ll let you know as soon as we find out anything.”
Violet nodded. “You do that.”
Raine put her arms around the invalid’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Violet put an age-softened hand on Raine’s cheek. “Our God is a great God, dear. Don’t ever forget that.”
Raine followed Ben out to the carriage, feeling a strange yearning. What would it take to be that close to God?
The ride home through the misting rain was silent, each wrapped in their own thoughts.
❧
Three days went by before Ben was free to visit Raine again. They were sitting on the porch swing, the cool summer breeze teasing them with the scent of roses.
“Would you pray for me, Raine?”
