by Susan Page Davis, Darlene Franklin, Pamela Griffin, Lisa Harris
Moving through the door he’d left open, he frowned at the thought of entombing himself within these four walls another day. Blast the girl, she had made what he once regarded his sanctuary feel like the prison she’d called it. It didn’t help that a trace of her lilac scent always lingered in the air, no matter how many hours since she’d left or how long he kept the door open to try to remove the reminder of her. The second chair at his table also bore silent testimony to her frequent presence in his home, as if she belonged there.
Strangely, without her presence, his home didn’t feel … complete.
With a grimace, he thought about removing the chair to the porch, but as he let his fingers trail the table to guide him, they bumped against two books she’d left behind in her haste. The smaller one on top was undoubtedly the novel she’d been reading to him, and the thick, larger one beneath with the thin, rough leather cover … it didn’t take two guesses to know its identity.
Nor could he ignore the dull ache in his chest that never went away, the need to reach out again to a God who couldn’t want anything to do with him any longer. Not after his long record of mistake after mistake, each worse than the last. He was serving the penalty for his crimes, he knew that. At times he railed at God—when the pain and despair threatened to choke him—but deep down, Joel knew he was solely to blame.
He’d been resigned to living out his purgatory on earth, but then she had come charging into his life—with her broom, dusters, and maddening doggedness.
Joel growled, shoving the books away. When he first realized her deception, he’d been furious and impatient to confront her. Now, after challenging his saintly tormentor, her words exasperated him no end.
Granted, he was wrong to have kept news of his whereabouts from the couple who’d raised him. It seemed like the best idea at the time, but he hadn’t realized they’d be worried. They had so many children to look after, all with checkered pasts, he didn’t think once he left their home to strike out on his own they would give him more than a fleeting thought.
And then there was Clemmie….
He still worked to reconcile the woman he’d known as Marielle with the young girl he’d last seen at the Refuge. There had been hints in the past weeks; he could see that now: the British phrases she sometimes used, so much like her mother’s and Darcy’s; her favorite story; even her familiarity with him from the start and her bossiness that daily combated a sweet nature…. Yes, he could see Clemmie now in everything she’d done. But he could also see the woman she’d become, because it was that woman he had come to know.
And she had told him she loved him.
It hadn’t been difficult to see her infatuation with him when she was a child, and he wondered if she still felt that same little-girl adoration. But how could she? He had been worse than an ogre, had rarely said one kind thing to her since she’d found him. A childish fascination would have quickly crumbled in the reality of all the cruel things he’d said and done.
He was still angry with her, but as the minutes passed, he grew calmer, remembering all she’d said to him, the reasons she’d given for her ruse. And she’d been correct; he would have sent her packing the moment he learned the truth.
But something had happened since then….
She had felt familiar to him from the start, soon making him feel at ease where no other woman had, especially since the accident. As a child, she’d done the same. A bond of friendship had formed between them, despite their age difference, and he didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t around her. His chums at the Refuge had looked up to him, making it impossible to confide in them when he felt in the doldrums, since they’d regarded him as a leader who couldn’t fail. And that was part of the problem. His accursed pride made it impossible to contact anyone at the farm with news of what he’d become. A blind sinner. Clemmie may have hero-worshipped him as a little girl … but she’d also been genuine, letting him be who he truly was.
And she had not changed as a young woman.
The walk to Herbert’s house wasn’t familiar to Joel, so he counted steps, knowing Herbert kept the level ground free of debris. As long as that wretched cat didn’t run across his path, he would have no problems.
He heard the women’s voices through the kitchen window Thea had left open and felt reassured he wasn’t too late. He knocked twice in warning then opened the kitchen door. A hush settled over the room, Clemmie’s subdued sniffling the only sound.
“I’ll just go check in on Loretta,” Thea said, her steps hurrying from the room.
Joel appreciated her effort to give them privacy but didn’t want to risk any chance of being overheard. “You and I need to talk.”
“Look….” Clemmie’s voice trembled. “I know I was wrong, and I’m sorry. A thousand times over, I’m sorry. I’m not sure what else you want me to say, except I hope one day you can forgive me for—”
He put up a hand to silence her.
“Will you come outside with me?” He sensed her hesitation. “You had your turn to speak. Now there’s something I need to say.”
He thought she might never answer. “A–all right.”
He heard the rustle of her skirt and the slight skid of the chair on the floor. He waited until she approached then stepped aside to let her precede him.
Chapter 13
There should be an apple tree beyond the shed. With a tire swing for the girls. Herbert told me about it.”
Clemmie blinked in stunned amazement. Talk of apple trees was the last thing she’d expected Joel to say. “Yes?”
“Guide me there.”
She swallowed hard, grateful he couldn’t see her damp cheeks. Was Joel actually asking for assistance? Gingerly taking his arm, she walked with him to the tree, not far from the edge of the woods. His hand went to the trunk, familiarizing himself with where he was, and he sank to the ground.
Clemmie remained standing and stared, openmouthed.
“Won’t you join me? I seem to remember you had a fondness for the outdoors and didn’t mind getting your clothes dirty.”
“I didn’t, when I was a little girl.” Regardless, she sank beside him on the dry grass, sitting on her legs. “Joel, what’s this about?”
His sightless blue eyes seemed to stare at the horizon, his expression undergoing a swift change. He looked very sad, and Clemmie held her breath.
“When I was in the service, I made friends with another sailor in my unit whose term ended the same time as mine. His father owned a lumber company, and he convinced me to get a job with him when our time was up.”
Clemmie listened, her eyes wide. Joel was talking to her? Did this mean he’d forgiven her?
“Things went well for a while; then his father lost the company. In that time, I’d … well, I met up with some people—friends of Jim’s—and got into some trouble.” He sighed. “I’m not going about this very well, am I? I’ve never told anyone all of it, not even Herbert.”
Clemmie’s amazement grew. He’d chosen to confide in her?
“I started gambling. Heavily. Drinking. Carousing in town with the fellows. Used up most of my income. Jim did, too. He met a girl he fell hard for, wanted to marry her and live the honest life—and I kept pushing him to go on our wild binges. The accident was my fault. The weekend before his wedding, I convinced him to do one more night on the town. She didn’t want him to. He held back, but I persisted till he gave in. Him and two of our pals …” His words came bitter, low. Tears filmed his eyes. “I wish to God that He would let me live that night over! That I could go back and change everything …”
Clemmie held her hand hard in an effort not to touch him in comfort. She sensed he needed physical distance in order to say what had been burdening his heart for over a year.
“I had cracked a joke—you know me, funny man Joel—and he looked away from the road. At me. I still remember him laughing. A deer ran in front of the car. One of the guys cried out a warning. Jim swerved and went over an embankment. That
’s the last I remember seeing any of them. I woke up in a hospital and learned my friends all died in the crash. I got thrown from the car but have no idea how I survived.”
Clemmie’s heart felt ripped in two by his pain. Something occurred to her. “Oh, but Joel, you know it wasn’t your fault, don’t you—”
He put up a hand to silence her.
“After I was released from the hospital, I visited his mother to express my regrets. I learned his fiancée tried to overdose. It seems she was pregnant with his kid. They admitted her to a mental facility to get help. She lost the baby.”
Clemmie could scarcely breathe from the painful pressure in her chest. Oh, so much made sense now! So much …
“That’s why you didn’t go through with the operation,” she whispered. “It wasn’t just about money, about asking my parents for help. You didn’t feel you deserved it.”
“All of it, Clemmie—all of it was my fault. From the start. I didn’t want your parents to know what kind of man I’d become and be ashamed and sorry they ever knew me. I’ve failed so much in life—I didn’t want them to know I’d done it again. I felt this was God’s punishment. That’s a big part of why I didn’t pursue an operation. I felt I didn’t have the right to see when others had died. So now you know. And now you can understand why I can’t do it.”
Glad he couldn’t see the tears that ran down her cheeks, she worked to keep her voice even. “Joel, that’s not God’s way. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. You’re not to blame! You can’t help it that a deer ran across the road or that your friend wasn’t paying attention at that precise moment. No more than my mother could help it when she found herself trapped in a relationship with an abusive con man who forced her to assist him in taking Lady Annabelle’s necklace on the Titanic. No more than Darcy could help it when she was a lost little girl fending for herself in London’s streets and doing anything she could to survive, even if that meant stealing.”
“Ah, but there’s a difference, Clemmie.” His tone came wry. “They didn’t know better. I did. And your mother was trying to protect her life.”
“I still say, God isn’t like that. He doesn’t want you to suffer, to make your own penance by living in a box, refusing the chance to see again. You’re repentant for your actions. God can and will and does forgive you, Joel—but will you forgive yourself?”
“What right do I have to see, when Jim’s mother will never have her son back?”
“Does she blame you for the accident?”
He grew quiet. “No.”
“Then why should you?”
At her soft words, he heaved a weary sigh. “There were others—”
“Grown men with the ability to make their own choices. And the woman, his fiancée … if she would try something so horrible as that, who’s to say she didn’t already have considerable problems?”
The slightest smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “You sound like your mother.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
She smiled through her tears. Not exactly a reassurance but his old teasing manner suggested there would be future encounters between them, allowing the light of her dream to flicker again.
However it had happened, whatever his reasons, Joel had reconciled with her.
She wouldn’t ask for explanations; she would thank God for His merciful hand that had once again intervened to mend the outcome of her own foolish mistakes.
“Out twice in one week?” Herbert’s voice shocked Joel, who’d been so absorbed in trying to fasten his tie he hadn’t heard his steps creak on the porch. “That’s one for Guinness, isn’t it?”
“Will you just help me tie this blasted thing?” Joel whipped the ends from the mangled mess of the knot he could feel with his fingertips. He hadn’t worn a tie in over a year. Even with sight, he’d been lousy in the art of knotting one.
“I’m not much better, but I’ll give it a go.” Herbert’s steps came closer. He took the ends from Joel’s hands and began the intricate steps of the accursed rite that polite society demanded. “So what’s the occasion for the glad rags? I’d forgotten you owned anything so nifty.”
“The bazaar.” Joel said the words as if it was an execution chamber.
“Oh that. You’re going?”
“You’re not?”
“Duty calls, old boy. I must head to the newspaper office. I was just coming by to see if you needed anything.” He tugged the tie sharply, pushing the knot up to Joel’s neck.
“Clemmie talk you into it?”
“I can’t believe she did. Again.”
Herbert chuckled. “You’re just putty in her hands.”
Joel shoved Herbert’s hands away and made the final adjustment himself. “That’s not funny.”
“Oh, so you’re not?” Herbert made a disbelieving sound in his throat. “That gal has had you wound around her little finger ever since she was old enough to say your name—before that even. Now it’s worse.”
“You’re all wet,” Joel grumbled. “You have no idea what you’re gabbing about.”
“No? All of us were sure you’d shoot through the roof once you learned the truth. Not only did you not barricade yourself inside and refuse to see her again—you did the exact opposite. Actually left your porch, went off somewhere with her for a good half hour, and came back as friends. Don’t get me wrong—I think it’s great you recovered so fast. But it’s not what we expected.”
“I was angry at first, sure. Who wouldn’t be? But to realize it was Clemmie, that someone from the past cared enough to do something like that … It didn’t bother me like I thought it might. Besides, what right do I have to hold a grudge after all the grief I’ve caused others?”
“My, my,” Herbert said in awe. “Clemmie must be a miracle worker for you to talk like that. Joel Litton: sinner turned saint.”
Joel grunted. “Will you knock it off? I’m hardly a saint.”
“Hmm. Offer still stands, you know. The one I’ve issued again and again. Now that you’re out and about and have no excuses, come with us to church Sunday.”
“Clemmie asked me, too.” Joel grew somber. “I can’t see how God would want me in His house after all this time.”
“Well, that’s where you’re all wet.”
“Yeah, maybe, but not in the way you mean. I burned my bridges when I turned my back on Him.”
“Did you? Turned your back completely? I don’t think so. There’s a sadness in your voice when you say that, Joel…. Remember what Darcy used to tell us: ‘There isn’t a bridge God can’t rebuild, if you’ll let Him be the carpenter.’ ”
“Actually she said ‘ain’t a bridge.’ ”
“And Brent winced every time she used bad grammar or her cockney accent.”
Herbert’s reminder caused Joel to crack a smile. “They did make an odd sort of couple.”
“Speaking of couples …”
“Don’t say it,” Joel warned, sensing what was coming.
“You two make a nifty one.”
Joel sighed. “I’m blind.”
“Whether you can or can’t see doesn’t seem to make one bit of difference in Clemmie wanting to be with you.”
“There is the age difference. Twelve years.”
“She’s not a kid anymore. Unless age is a problem for you.”
“Just drop it.” It wasn’t a problem; he’d known her age when he first kissed her—just not that she was Clemmie. At first it felt odd to realize the girl he’d considered a kid sister was the young woman he’d kissed and who had made him feel emotions deeper than he’d known before. But because of all his present obstacles, Joel had not given much thought to developing a romantic relationship. He held his arms out to the sides. “Will I pass?”
“Hmm. Well, if the fashionable new look for society is one brown sock and one black, you look swell.”
“Funny.” Joel didn’t take him seriously, since he owned only one color.
> A light step on the porch followed by the sudden aroma of lilacs alerted him to her presence.
“Joel …?”
Strange that his breath should come short and his heart so suddenly clench at the sound of her soft, husky voice, when he’d heard it for weeks.
He turned to face her, and she gave a little gasp.
Chapter 14
Is something wrong?” Joel asked.
“Wrong?” Clemmie worked to keep her voice natural. The sudden sight of him always took her breath away, but she really had to get a grip on her emotions.
“Nothing’s wrong. I came a little early. I hope that’s all right. I can wait on the porch.”
“No need. We’re done here.” Joel’s face gave nothing away, and she wondered what the two men had been discussing. She had the oddest feeling the subject had been her.
Herbert smiled. “I need to get to work. Have fun at the bazaar.”
“Hannah’s mother lent her chauffeur again if you’d like us to give you a lift.”
“I enjoy the walk. Helps clear my head. Thanks all the same, Clemmie.”
Once Herbert left, her footsteps moved farther into the shed. “You look very nice.”
Joel’s answering smile was grim. “I wish I could offer you the same compliment.”
Oh no! He isn’t in another of his black moods again, is he?
Quickly she closed the distance. “I brought you something. Take a seat.”
“Is there time?”
“I told you I came a little early.” She pushed the cigar box into his hands. “Do you remember this?”
A puzzled expression crossed his handsome features. He lifted the wooden lid, his fingertips warily searching the interior. A delighted smile suddenly flashed across his face, causing Clemmie to haul in another swift intake of breath at the pleasant change it made to his entire being.
“My boyhood treasures!” He withdrew an iridescent blue-black feather of a jay, his forefinger tracing its soft edge. “You kept it all this time?” His tone came wondering.
