“How do I fix this?”
John sighed. “Bethany, you have a sensitive heart—you get that from your mother. I am sorry you had to grow up without her, but you have never gone a day without the guidance of people God has placed in your life. Go to them and tell them what you told me: that you regret your actions and your purity was spared. They need to know you appreciate their help and you regret not listening to them. As you get older and your choices affect your place in the community, you will want to have people like Lydia and Connor, Levi and Mandy, and Roseanna and Everett—people who are wise and will advise you to live in a way that honors your family and your creator. This family and this village—they are your true inheritance. Levi has chosen his own inheritance. Connor, who was grafted into our family providentially, will probably inherit the position of village overseer one day. Everett has inherited his father’s property and position among the elders. I know it is different for you being the youngest daughter in that you will not inherit physical possessions, but these people are your inheritance. You must treat them as such.”
Bethany gave a small chuckle as she examined her cuticles. “Actually, Father, I will have an inheritance of my own.”
“Oh?”
“Mrs. Vestal would like to leave me the pottery yard.” She waited for her father’s reaction. “If that is acceptable to the elders, of course. No one in her family has interest in it, and she says I am the best potter she’s ever known.”
John leaned back and pressed his palms into the mattress. “I will discuss it with the elders when Mrs. Vestal presents the details to us, but it sounds like a good plan to me.”
“Really?” Bethany ignored the wind’s moan outside the window and smiled. “Thank you, Father.”
“Just do not forget your heritage—your family, the village, and our values. Whether you have a family of your own to pass your heritage to some day or spend your life shaping lumps of clay into beautiful vessels, always protect your true inheritance.”
* * *
Bethany stayed close to her father as she followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. Though it was morning, the shuttered windows made the downstairs rooms as dark as night. Flames flickered inside the globes of two lanterns on the kitchen table, and the gray leaf log in the fireplace added a soft glow to the room. As John stepped to the side, Bethany saw the people she loved and had hurt. Connor leaned back in his seat and furrowed his brow like he did in the classroom when he was waiting for a naughty student to explain bad behavior. Levi appeared impassive, but he emanated disappointment, bearing evidence of his knowledge of her foolish choice. Everett sat at the far end of the table in her father’s usual seat. He had his head in his hands and did not look at her. Bethany wished her father would speak for her, but when he put his hand at her back and nudged her closer to the table, she knew there was no way out of it. She began to pick at her nails then looked up when Lydia walked into the room behind them.
Lydia passed her and glanced in the bassinet in the corner of the room. “Andrew is sound asleep and Aunt Isabella says she wants to stay in her room and nap.” The wind banged the shutters against the kitchen window. “How either of them can be at peace during this ruckus is beyond me.” Lydia looked at the men and then at Bethany. “Oh, am I interrupting?”
John motioned to the empty chair beside Connor. “Have a seat, Lydia. Bethany has something she needs to say.”
Bethany felt her knees quiver and shifted her weight. She swallowed and looked at Connor. “You saved my life when I caught that horrible illness and then you worked so hard to protect me. I didn’t listen to you and I’m sorry.” She moved her gaze to Lydia. “You tried to warn me too. I should have listened and I’m sorry I didn’t.” A small smile curved the corner of Lydia’s mouth and she nodded. Bethany looked at Levi. “I know you were worried about me and I only made it worse. I’m sorry.” Levi grinned and the light hit his eyes, relieving her, though she already knew he would easily forgive her.
Everett lifted his head and raked both hands through his hair. Though his jaw was shadowed with whiskers, it was the darkness in his eyes that made him look harsh. When his gaze met hers, Bethany wanted to look away, but she forced herself to carry on. This was some rite of passage, some test of development, or one of those maturing experiences her father so often referred to, and she would not back down. She straightened her spine. “Everett, you made your wishes very clear and I went against them. I understand why you are upset and I’m so sorry.” He did not move. His gaze was intense, so Bethany looked at the others to continue her apology. “I hope my foolish actions haven’t brought shame to my family, and I hope you all will forgive me.”
Lydia stood and embraced Bethany. “Of course, we forgive you.”
As Lydia backed away, Connor smiled. “Yeah, Beth, you’re forgiven.”
Bethany glanced at Levi and he smiled at her. Everett was still staring at her. He had not yet offered forgiveness. She was too nervous to let him catch her eye. He stood and everyone looked at him and then at her. Everett turned to John. “May I speak with Bethany alone?”
“Of course.” John held an open hand toward the parlor.
Everett passed Bethany without touching her. Lydia and Connor exchanged a sad look then Lydia pressed her palm to her stomach. For once Bethany felt like she knew what they knew, and she pined for her former ignorance. Her heart broke a little more with each step as she followed Everett into the dim, empty parlor. Her family had forgiven her and she felt their love. She wished they would follow her and stand with her as she endured the rejection of the man she loved, but she had to face him alone.
Everett stepped to the fireplace. He stared at the burning log on the grate as he leaned his forearm upon the mantel. Bethany sat on the edge of the divan, her body so tense it could have sustained the position without a seat below her. Gusting wind rattled the shutters outside the parlor windows, producing an eerie commotion that made her wish the whole hopeless debacle would soon end so she could begin mourning the loss of Everett’s love. She wanted to speak, to beg his forgiveness, to make a cute remark or a joke or a compliment—anything to regain his approval—but instinct told her to remain silent while he formed his thoughts; if a man had something true and raw to say, it was best not to interrupt the process and risk silencing what he most needed—yet least wanted—to say.
Everett turned from the fire and sank his hands into his trouser pockets. As Bethany wondered if he still carried the little scripture book, he drew one hand out and opened his palm, revealing her silver bracelet. She stared at the vase-shaped charm and remembered the sound it made when it fell from her wrist at Justin’s cabin the night before. She’d been too scared of Justin’s desire to look at the floor then, and she was too scared of Everett’s rejection to look at his face now.
Everett stepped close to the divan and held the bracelet out to her. “Is it true? Did you go to him last night?”
Bethany swallowed and took the bracelet. “Yes.”
“What happened?”
“I only wanted to let him know someone here cared about him. I couldn’t get the image of Luke and Walter’s drowning out of my mind, and I had to warn him about the sea.” She felt a surge of emotion and tried to keep her voice quiet, knowing Isabella was asleep and the others were probably trying to listen from the kitchen. “I was afraid he was being driven away and I needed to know it was his choice to leave.”
“What happened?”
“I walked to his cabin and told him those very things. He said he wanted to leave the Land and he knew how to survive the water.” Thunder rumbled and Bethany cringed. “He said he would be fine.”
“I don’t care about any of that, Bethany.” Everett said her name through clenched teeth. “This is the last time I will ask you: what happened?”
“Justin said he knew why I really went to him and he grabbed me.” She struggled to form the words. “He kissed me roughly and poorly. When I told him not to, he let me go, and t
hen he said some terrible things.”
Everett wiped both hands across his face but it did little to remove his angry expression. “I have waited my whole life to kiss you and—if I had—it would have been neither rough nor poor. I would have spoken kindly to you all of your days.”
“I’m so sorry.” She blurted out then recoiled as Everett silently turned back to the fire. If he could not forgive her now, maybe he would in time, but she could not think beyond the present torturous moment. The pain in her chest felt watery and cold. If anything had caused it other than him, she would have gone to Everett for comfort. While her fingers felt along the silver links of the bracelet, she longed for her mother—the woman she barely remembered but was constantly compared to. Everyone said she was sensitive like her mother, emotionally intuitive like her mother, tenderhearted like her mother. Why could she not fix this like her mother?
She watched Everett’s slumped shoulders and wondered if his anger against her would ever dissipate. At once, she realized it was not anger she sensed from him at all. “You’re not mad—you are afraid.”
Everett straightened his shoulders and turned on his heel. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” A flash of lightning sprayed a virescent glow through the cracks in the shutters, but Bethany did not flinch.
“Then how do you know?”
“I can feel it.”
“Of course you can.” Everett gave a small chuckle but not a happy one. He walked back to the divan and sat on the arm, retaining his position over her. “You’re right: I am afraid. Beth, I lost my father and nearly lost you in the same day. And then within a day of entering courtship with me, you go to another man.” When she opened her mouth, Everett put his hands up. “I know you had your reasons and you regret it, but it makes me afraid that I will easily lose you. I forgive you, but if I am going to build a life with you, I need to be able to trust you.”
“If by trust you mean assurance that I will be faithful to you, then yes, be assured my heart is yours. But if by trust you mean assurance that I will not make mistakes then no, you cannot trust me because I will fail you. I’m only human. And so are you—you will fail me too.” She shifted toward him. “You’re right to be afraid—this is scary. Our hearts and our futures are at stake. I’m afraid too.”
Everett blew out a breath and lowered himself to the cushion beside her. He put his arm across the back of the divan. “This is one of those opportunities for me to love you through it, isn’t it?”
“I hope so.” Bethany released a long breath and grinned slightly. “But if you don’t, I will love you through that too.”
“You’ve changed.”
“How so?”
“You’re starting to speak like a Colburn.”
“That is the highest compliment I’ve ever received.”
When the shutters on both sides of the room clattered in the wind, Bethany leaned against Everett’s side. She could feel the gentle movement of his chest with his breath. “How will we know when we are safe?”
“From each other or from the outside world?” he asked. She could tell he was smiling and pulled away to look at him. He grinned at her and then continued. “Mercer made it out to sea before the storm blew in. He was speaking to Connor over the radio and said that he went through the change in the atmosphere and could no longer see the Land. Connor heard him speaking to the ship’s rescue workers before we lost signal. Connor said we are safely hidden within our atmosphere, but we will know for certain that the danger is over once the ship is gone.”
“Do you think Justin is safe?”
“Connor said it was an American ship and whoever Mercer was talking to, he sounded pleased. They probably rescued him.”
“What if the storm got to him before they did?”
“Connor thinks Mercer is safe. I trust Connor.”
Bethany did too, but her fear remained. She wanted to know she could depend on Everett’s strength. “If Justin’s body washes back to shore like Luke and Walter’s did, it might break me.”
Everett pulled her close to his side and she laid her head against his shoulder. “I’ve known you since the day you were born,” he said. “We’ve been through a lot together. Have I ever let you break alone?”
“No, never once.”
“I plan to keep that up for the next—I don’t know—seventy years or so.”
Bethany closed her eyes as she breathed in the hope of a future with him. “And I will let you.”
“When we go out after the storm, if you find a reason to break, you can break in my arms. But if we go out and find a reason to celebrate, we will celebrate together.” His voice sounded low and sure. “I waited so long to court you and then all this happened. As soon as it’s over, I’ll hire as many men as I have to so that I can spend time with you. We can do whatever you want: picnics on the bluffs, strolls along the beach, or you can curl your hair and I’ll parade you through the village.”
Bethany hummed. “Yes—all of it.”
“What would you like to do first? Anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“I would like to spend a day working with you on your farm.”
Everett pulled his head back a degree and contracted his brows. “My farm?”
She nodded. “The pottery yard is closed for the winter, I don’t have school anymore, and Lydia takes care of everything around here. I’d really like to see the animals and see what life is like on your farm.”
A wild grin spread across Everett’s face. “You just made me the happiest man in the village. Very well, it’s a date.”
* * *
Everett relaxed with his head against the back of the overstuffed armchair in the Colburns’ parlor. As he watched the warm glow of the burning gray leaf log upon the grate, he listened to the pleasant feminine voices coming from the kitchen. Though Bethany and Lydia’s conversation was undecipherable because of the din produced by the rainless storm outside, Everett absorbed every note of Bethany’s laugh as she helped Lydia prepare their lunch. Over the course of the morning hours, sheltered in the Colburn house, Everett’s complete forgiveness had sprouted a desire to spend his life leading Bethany in love. She no more wanted a controller than he wanted to control, but she was used to the strong guidance of her father and would not respect a husband who lacked the ability to shepherd his family with wisdom.
Everett glanced at the three other men who were lounging in the parlor. He and Levi were both raised under John’s capable leadership, and Connor came to the Land already possessing the seven virtues; they were all bound by their desire to live by a noble and ancient code. And at present, they were confined indoors as a violent storm battered their village.
Levi was reclined lengthwise on the divan, staring at the ceiling. Connor was sitting cross-legged on the rug with his infant son lying beside him; a stream of drool connected Andrew’s chin to the rug as he pushed himself up and attempted to crawl. John shifted his body in his chair when the old clock on the wall behind him clicked into the noon position. He looked at the fire beside him and propped his heels on a wooden footstool. Though the outside shutters vibrated in non-rhythmic pulses, and sand and twigs continuously sprinkled against the house, Everett felt content. He was at peace with Bethany and, therefore, his world made sense.
At once, a strange silence shrouded the room. Glints of the noonday light spilled between the slats on the shutters, sending a field of parallel shadows across the baby’s back. The chair’s stiff fabric crackled as Everett lifted his head. John craned his neck to look at the covered window behind his chair. Levi arose from his reclined position on the divan; he put his feet to the floor and raised both eyebrows. In one motion, Connor scooped Andrew from the rug and stood. “It’s over!” Connor said as he carried the baby into the kitchen.
Everett followed John as the men rushed to the back door and tugged on their boots. The sun’s light blinked between the dissipating clouds an
d sparkled off the sand that was strewn throughout the yard. Everett rubbed his hands together as he walked into the calm but cold air outside.
In silence, they surveyed the damage. Broken tree limbs, downed fence, and a drift of sand and sea foam piled against the east side of the house and the cottage. The barn appeared to be undamaged, but a chorus of nervous whinnies and moos attested to the state of the anxious animals locked inside. Everett’s concern for his flock grew and he wanted to get back to his farm. At last, John returned from his perambulation and instructed the men. “Connor, Everett, go and check the shore. Levi and I will walk through the village.”
Everett nodded and followed Connor to the house to get the telescope. As soon as they walked inside the back door, Lydia began pelting Connor with questions. Everett lifted his coat from the hook behind the door and looked at Bethany. She watched him with wide eyes as her hand stirred a ladle in a pot of stew. He shrugged on his coat and stepped close to her. “Connor and I are going to the shore. Stay inside until one of us comes back and tells you it’s safe. Please. Whatever we find out there, I’ll handle it a lot better if I know you are safe in here. I will come back and tell you everything, I promise. Just stay here for now.”
Bethany let go of the ladle and it swirled once inside the rim of the caldron. She reached a hand to his coat and smoothed his lapel. “I will wait.” She grinned. “But not indefinitely. My curiosity cannot be restrained for long.”
“Fair enough.” Everett began to grin at her but stopped when he realized it might be the last time he saw her. He did not know what would be waiting for him on the shore—possibly Mercer’s dead body, or worse, an invading army. He quickly tried to memorize how she looked in that moment. Then Connor called to him from outside, so Everett squeezed Bethany’s hand and left the Colburn house.
Broken branches and sticky seaweed littered the forest path. Everett walked in front of Connor, pulling the most obtrusive limbs out of their way as they trudged to the shore. Connor cradled the telescope in his arms, and his brow creased with worry. As they neared the beach, Everett pointed to the cairn. “Look at that—not a stone out of place.”
Uncharted Inheritance (The Uncharted Series Book 3) Page 19
