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Anna's Forgotten Fiancé

Page 18

by Carrie Lighte


  Although you both suffered painful betrayals, I’m glad you’ve decided not to allow past hurts to rob you of future hopes and present happiness. As I’ve discovered this last year in particular, time passes too quickly, so be sure to keep your heart open to love.

  May you, Anna and your family experience God’s grace and blessings in your new home.

  From Elmer J. Chupp.

  Fletcher folded the letter and tucked it beneath the seat. Emboldened by its message, he flicked the reins, working the horse into a rapid gallop. He didn’t have a minute to spare.

  * * *

  Anna could hear the distant clatter of pots and pans as Melinda fixed dinner, and she was glad for once she didn’t have to participate in the meal preparation. As soon as she returned from the creek, Anna had secured Naomi’s promise that her stepmother wouldn’t allow anyone to disturb her, and she sequestered herself in her attic room, perusing her diary page by page.

  As she read, she rediscovered many of the events Fletcher had already described to her, but many more she had no idea had ever happened. Whether she’d written about a picnic by Wheeler’s Pond, reuniting with Fletcher after the tornado struck, or even a small argument over what time they arranged to meet after church, one theme consistently ran throughout the entries: she was in love.

  Placing the open book on her stomach as she reclined in bed, Anna realized she didn’t need her journal to tell her that. She knew she’d fallen in love with Fletcher all over again because breaking up with him didn’t merely split her heart in two; it smashed it into a million bits. A few tears trickled down her temples before she picked up the journal and turned the page. A folded sheet of paper fell to her chest.

  The entry in the journal where the letter was tucked was dated January 12 and it said, Today Naomi gave me the enclosed letter, which she only just discovered hidden in Dad’s Bible on his lamp stand. Although it’s nearly a year old, I’m so glad to have received it now. I’ll treasure it always.

  Unfolding the paper, Anna gasped at the sight of her father’s lopsided penmanship. His letter was dated February 18 of the previous year.

  My darling Daughter,

  Tonight I stood at the bottom of the attic stairs, as I have every evening this week, listening to you weeping in your room where you thought no one could hear you. I am torn between wanting to comfort you and respecting your privacy (which you have always fiercely guarded, much to your brothers’ chagrin!).

  As difficult as it is to know you’re suffering, I don’t believe Aaron is the Lord’s intended for you. He has his admirable qualities to be sure, but he lacks the sense of responsibility, selflessness and genuine kindness you deserve. If Aaron possessed those qualities, you would have married him long ago.

  Instead, I believe you’ve continued to allow him to court you in an effort to model the characteristics he ought to have developed by now. I see you exhibiting the same gentle patience with Melinda that you’ve always shown to Aaron. But ultimately, such growth has to come from inside them, through the grace of God, as it does for all of us.

  I wish I could take away your heartache, but I trust God will use it for your good. It is my prayer He will provide you a husband who brings you joy instead of grief—perhaps even joy in the midst of grief. When you meet a man like that, you can be certain he is God’s intended for you.

  Your loving Father.

  Anna’s heart palpitated as she replaced the letter and turned the page of her journal to the next entry, dated January 19. It read: Fletcher asked me to marry him and I eagerly accepted. He was willing to wait until wedding season next autumn, but I want to become his wife as soon as possible, so we will take advantage of the bishop’s special spring wedding provision and marry on the first available date in April. Nothing would make me more grateful than having him as my husband by Easter.

  There it was, in black and white, the explanation she’d been seeking for why she had been certain after such a brief courtship that Fletcher was God’s intended for her. It was what her father wrote about finding a man who brought her joy in the midst of grief that must have helped her to be sure... But it does me no gut now, she lamented.

  She knew she could show Fletcher the journal. She could flip to the last entry, as she’d already done and insist that he read her words, dated Monday, March 2: Tonight, Aaron told me he never loved Melinda—he was only courting her to try to make me jealous. Then he kissed me and I was so angry, I would have liked to push him into the creek, may the Lord forgive me! I pleaded with him to confess the charade to Melinda before the wedding preparations went any further, but he refused. I don’t know what to do, except to tell Fletcher. He’ll know how best to handle it.

  But even if Fletcher saw the error in his thinking this time, Anna knew that at some point in the future, an issue or circumstance would arise in which Fletcher would doubt her and she would feel burdened to prove herself again. She meant what she said; she couldn’t marry a man who didn’t trust her, no matter how much she loved him. The tears flowed freely and she rolled onto her side and burrowed her face into her pillow.

  She had nearly cried herself to sleep when she heard a tap at the window. At first she thought it must be the maple tree’s branches blowing in the wind, but when suddenly it scraped the pane again, she wondered if it was a bird or a squirrel. She heard it scratch the glass a third time, louder now, as if it were deliberately trying to enter the house. She crossed the room and slid the window open, peering into the maple, which was leafy with new growth.

  “Scat,” she rebuked the concealed animal. “Go away. Get!”

  “Anna, is that you?” a man’s voice called softly.

  “Who’s there?” she questioned, although she realized it had to be Aaron. He hadn’t been permitted to visit Melinda at suppertime, so he must have been sneaking to speak with her now.

  “It’s me, Fletcher,” he answered.

  “Fletcher?” She was completely bewildered. “What in the world are you doing up here?”

  “I’m...I’m going out on a limb for you, Anna,” Fletcher chuckled awkwardly. “I’ve kumme to apologize.”

  Anna laughed. In the midst of her grief, Fletcher was bringing her joy. “But you’re afraid of heights,” she said.

  “Naomi wouldn’t let me inside to see you,” he explained. “But, uh, I would like to get down now. Would you kumme outside?”

  “I’ll be right there,” she agreed. She was so glad to see him that she made it downstairs and outside quicker than he descended the tree’s branches, but she stopped short of embracing him when he dropped to the ground. She needed to hear his apology first.

  “Hello again, Anna,” he said, wiping his hands on the sides of his trousers.

  “Hello again, Fletcher,” she replied. She started to suggest they go sit on the porch swing, but he gently placed a finger to her lips to silence her.

  “Please, what I have to say can’t wait another instant,” Fletcher insisted. He dropped his hand and continued, “I don’t know how to explain the note you sent me, or the kiss you and Aaron shared—”

  “But I do,” Anna interrupted. “It’s all in my journal and I can show—”

  “Neh!” Fletcher declared urgently. His eyes brimmed and his voice quavered as he explained, “What I wanted to say was I don’t know how to explain those things, but I don’t have to explain them, because I know you. You’ve always been truthful and trustworthy about your thoughts and feelings, and having amnesia doesn’t change that. So when you told me those things didn’t mean what I thought they meant, I should have believed you the first time. The fact that I doubted you is a reflection of my character, not yours. My lack of trust—my insecurity—is a weakness I hope Gott will change and you will forgive, because I’m very, very sorry.”

  Upon her hearing the depth of Fletcher’s remorse and the intensity of his belief in her trustworthiness, Anna’s
wounded feelings evaporated and she was consumed by the yearning to be reconciled with him. She hurtled herself into his arms with such force she nearly knocked him over. “Of course I forgive you!” she exclaimed.

  * * *

  After they’d nearly hugged the breath right out of each other, Anna dropped her arms and said, “I need to ask you to forgive me, too. Your suspicion that Aaron still had feelings for me was correct. But because I didn’t reciprocate even an ounce of that affection, I was completely blind to his behaviors and I dismissed your concerns. I’m sorry. Perhaps if I had been more aware—”

  “I’m not eavesdropping,” Evan announced loudly from where he stood by the side of the house. “Mamm sent me out here to see if you want any supper before they put the leftovers away, Anna.”

  Anna laughed. “Jah, please. I’ll be in in a few minutes and Fletcher would like to join me, as well.”

  “Alright, if you want to,” the boy said to Fletcher, ruefully shaking his head. “But Melinda made ground beef and cabbage skillet and it tastes even worse than it smells. Eli called it ground beef and skunk cabbage skillet!”

  “Evan!” Anna scolded, but the child had already darted off.

  “Are you sure it’s okay if I kumme in for supper?” Fletcher asked. “Naomi didn’t seem too happy to see me earlier.”

  “She’ll be delighted now,” Anna insisted. “So will Evan and Eli, since it will mean fewer of Melinda’s leftovers for them tomorrow!”

  Oh, how Fletcher had missed this kind of easygoing repartee the past few days. “Okay, but just don’t tell Naomi I climbed the tree outside your window. She’ll lecture me to no end.”

  “Well, I can’t blame her for that—you could have slipped and gotten a concussion,” Anna joked. “And I would have been devastated if you didn’t remember me.”

  No sooner had she spoken the words than she clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “That’s how I injured myself!” she exclaimed. “I fell as I was letting myself down from the tree.”

  “You climbed the maple tree, too?” Fletcher wondered.

  “Neh, the willow,” Anna expounded. “I was letting myself down from the last branch, but my feet couldn’t quite touch the ground. When I released my grip, I sort of floundered and then toppled backward. I remember bouncing onto my backside and thinking ‘that wasn’t so bad,’ and then total darkness.”

  “You must have hit your head on a rock as you tumbled. But why were you climbing the tree in the first place? You weren’t hiding, were you?”

  “Neh, I wasn’t hiding. Rather, I wasn’t hiding myself. I was hiding my journal, which contained a terrible secret. You see, the day after our wedding intentions were published, Aaron came to me at the creek and confessed he never really loved Melinda. He’d only been trying to make me jealous, which didn’t work, of course. I captured it all in my journal, even the part where he kissed me...” Anna shivered, making an awful face.

  Fletcher felt his jaw harden and his temples pulsate, but he silently prayed, Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. If Anna could forgive Aaron for kissing her, he could, too.

  She continued, “So actually, you were partially right when you thought the ‘A.’ in my note referred to Aaron. I did have serious concerns about him I needed to discuss with you before the wedding preparations went any further. But the wedding preparations I was referring to were Aaron and Melinda’s, not ours!”

  “Oh, Anna, I’m so sorry,” Fletcher said.

  “You’ve already apologized, Fletcher, and it’s understandable why you might have thought what you thought, at least initially, so please say no more,” Anna replied. “The important thing now is that Melinda needs to know the truth.”

  “Jah, but Aaron is the one who needs to tell her, not us. I’ll have a word with him. Something tells me he won’t want to risk getting in any more hot water with his daed. He’ll own up, don’t worry. Meanwhile—” Fletcher bent to retrieve the gift bag from where he’d left it propped against the tree “—this is for you.”

  “Denki,” Anna said. She gingerly removed the colorful bouquet of tissue paper to retrieve the bag’s contents: a leather-bound journal with a silver lock on the side and a willow tree embossed on the front cover. “It’s beautiful!”

  “But now that you’ve found yours, I guess you don’t really need a second one.”

  “But I do!” she protested. “My old journal is nearly full. I can use this to record the next chapter of our lives together.”

  Fletcher lightly ran his knuckle beneath Anna’s chin, tilting her face toward his. “I just hope the next chapter isn’t as rocky as the past few weeks have been.”

  “Oh, but all gut love stories have a few rocky patches. That’s how they get their beauty,” Anna said. “I wouldn’t change our story for anything in the world.”

  “Neither would I,” Fletcher agreed as he searched her eyes. They had never appeared so dazzling.

  “What is it?” she asked. “Why are you staring at me that way?”

  “I haven’t seen that look in your eyes for a long, long time,” he whispered.

  “It’s a look of recognition,” she whispered back, causing his heart to throb. “I know who you are. No matter what I may remember or forget about the past, I know who you are.”

  “Who am I?” he asked playfully.

  “You’re Fletcher Josiah Chupp—Gott’s intended for me.”

  “And you, Anna Catherine Weaver, are Gott’s intended for me,” Fletcher pledged, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “I love you,” she murmured.

  “And I love you,” he echoed.

  He could have stayed like that for hours, but when a breeze rustled the leaves overhead, Anna backed away. She smiled, revealing her dimple, and then linked her fingers with his. “Kumme, let’s go inside. I can’t wait to tell Naomi her faithful prayers have been answered!”

  Epilogue

  Anna expected tears or even an outburst from Melinda the evening Aaron called off their wedding, but instead, the young woman almost seemed relieved.

  “I enjoy working in the shop more than anything I’ve ever done,” she told Anna, taking off her prayer kapp in preparation for bed. “But I’d have to quit working if I had a bobbel after I got married. Besides, once you move out, I’ll have this entire room to myself. It will be a little bit like having a home of my own, without all of the work of a house.”

  “But aren’t you sad about...about Aaron?” Anna carefully inquired.

  “Why should I be sad? It’s not his fault his salary was cut because he’s no longer the foreman. His daed needs his personal help with their Highland Springs customers—it would be selfish of him to put marrying and building a costly house for me above his obligation to his daed.” Melinda lowered her voice as if to reveal a great secret. “Isaiah’s getting older, you know. He has arthritis.”

  “That’s why Aaron told you he wanted to call off the wedding?” Anna asked, thoroughly astounded by his ability to concoct a tale that actually bore some semblance, however slight, to the truth. She found herself wondering if he ever truly intended to be so disingenuous, or if he simply was so optimistically self-deceived he didn’t realize how distorted his perspective was. No matter: as Fletcher reminded her, it wasn’t her place to set Aaron’s record straight.

  “Jah,” Melinda said as she ran a brush through her hair. “I told him I understood, but that I didn’t know if I wanted to continue to walk out with him.” “Really?” Anna’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Jah.” She leaned forward and whispered. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I heard that Joseph Schrock’s nephew Jesse is coming to visit for the summer. He’s about my age and by all counts, he’s supposedly very charming.”

  Even after a year of living with Melinda, Anna still never knew what was going to come out of the y
oung woman’s mouth next, but she supposed in this instance, it was a good thing Melinda had such a fickle attention span: it seemed to have saved her from a world of hurt.

  Anna slid her feet under her quilt. Soon, it would be too warm for such a heavy bed covering. “By the way, have you seen the fabric for my dress?” she asked. “I left it in the other side of the attic but it’s missing and there’s only about a week and a half until the wedding.”

  “Neh. But I thought you were supposed to be cured of amnesia.” Melinda yawned.

  “I am cured. Mostly, anyway. But there’s a difference between the fabric being missing and forgetting where I put it. I’m telling you, it’s not where I left it!”

  “What’s not where you left it?” Naomi asked. She’d crept up the stairs without Anna hearing her and she was standing in the doorway with her arms behind her back.

  “My wedding dress fabric. I can’t find it and I hardly have any time to sew my dress.”

  “That’s because you spent too much time working on Melinda’s dress, even though Dr. Donovan warned you to restrict your sewing activities.”

  Anna felt her face go warm as Melinda giggled. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard Naomi scold you, Anna!”

  Anna playfully tossed a pillow at her cousin. “At least I’m being scolded for doing too much work instead of too little,” she responded.

  “Now, girls, do I have to separate you two?” Naomi teased, joining their laughter. She entered the room, displaying a deep green dress across one arm, and a dark purple dress on the other. “One for you, one for me, and Melinda’s dress makes three.”

  Melinda and Anna both jumped out of their beds. Melinda darted to the closet while Anna approached Naomi and accepted her dress.

  Holding it to her shoulders so it draped along the front of her figure, she looked down admiringly and said, “Oh, denki, Naomi. It’s beautiful. Look—I can’t even see the stitches they’re so tiny!”

  “Let’s try them on, all three of us at once!” Melinda cried, sliding her own dress off its hanger.

 

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