Choices of the Heart (43 page)

“God always forgives if we ask,” Griff said. “There’s a Scripture about no condemnation . . .” He gave Esther a helpless glance.

“‘There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.’” She and Phoebe quoted the words together from the eighth chapter of Romans.

A slight smile curled Bethann’s thin and now bluish lips. “Then forgive me for this, Jesus.” She turned her head toward Griff. “I lied. It was some artist man. It weren’t never Henry’s baby the first time.” Her breath sighed out, and for the first time since she met her, Esther saw Bethann Tolliver look at peace.

Griff appeared as though she had ripped his heart from his chest with her bare hand. His face whitened, his eyes turned a colorless gray. Without a word, without a sound, he shot to his feet and strode from the room, allowing the door to slam behind him.

Mrs. Tolliver commenced to weep uncontrollably. Rafe led her from the chamber, murmuring something about a sedative draft. Esther and Phoebe remained to clean up the blood before flies swarmed through the open window.

“She found her peace,” Esther said. “She died free of a huge burden.”

“And what a burden.” Phoebe removed the sheet and canvas from beneath the body with the ease of experience. “She lied to get revenge on a man who spurned her love and started a family war.”

“Yet she never stopped loving him.” Esther started for the door. “I’ll fetch a pail of hot water.”

“Don’t.” Phoebe glanced toward the window and the setting sun. “Go find that young man of yours before it gets too dark.”

“I can’t go after him. You said yourself—”

“I was wrong. Go.” Phoebe made shooing motions with her hands. “Rafe will come back and help me with the rest. If ever I saw a young man in need of being loved right now, it’s him.”

“But he rejected me the other night.”

“Did he? Or did you run away?”

“I—he—”

The scene flashed through her mind, her leaving him. He hadn’t spoken, but she had just burdened him with an unpleasant—to say the least—tale about herself. She hadn’t given him time to think, just presumed and departed.

As she hadn’t given God time to heal her wounded spirit, just presumed He wasn’t with her and ran away from Him too.

The time for running away had ceased. The time for running toward was now.

Esther spun toward the door.

Griff wasn’t in his room, the kitchen, or the parlor. He wasn’t in the barn. The children swarmed around her, asking a dozen questions. She shooed them away as Phoebe had sent her packing, wanting the answer to only one question: “Have you seen Griff?”

“No, ma’am,” Ned said, “we ain’t.”

“Haven’t,” Liza corrected him. “Is Bethann—”

“I need to find Griff.” Esther started for the forest. She knew where he’d be.

He sat cross-legged beside the waterfall pool with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He didn’t so much as lift a finger when Esther clambered down the ravine and slid down to the rock beside him.

Esther ventured an opening. “She died at peace with God at the end.”

“Whereas I may never know peace in my heart again.”

“Griff—”

“Esther, go away.” He sounded weary. “Your fine friends are here. Go back with them. The scandal will go away in time. He’ll hurt some other female and everyone will believe you. You can have your old way of life back.”

“You mean the one where I thought nobody was good enough for me except the richest man on the eastern shore?” A surge of anger bubbled up in Esther’s veins. “You mean the one where I flirted and teased and didn’t care whom I hurt because I was amused? I don’t think so.”

“Well, you can’t have a life with me.” He turned to glare at her. “I don’t want you.”

Esther caught her breath. “B-because I was right? I’m not good enough for you?”

“No, because I’m not good enough for you. I was a fool to think for a minute maybe it didn’t matter. But now I know for certain.”

“You don’t know anything if you think that.” The words burst from her loudly enough to echo off the rocks and be heard over the waterfall.
Think that. Think that. Think that.

She liked the sound of it and stood to raise her voice a bit more. “My frivolous behavior led to a woman’s early labor and death.”

“And my sister is a murderer.” Griff stood with his sleek grace and took a step toward Esther. “Did you get that? My sister lied, and four families have been finding reasons to kill one another off for years. Poor Hannah isn’t right in her head. Lives are ruined.”

“So what does that have to do with you?”

“I’m responsible for my family—”

She took a step toward him and poked a finger in his chest. “Did you make Bethann go astray? Did you make her love the wrong man? Did you make her lie and start a feud? Did you make your father go after Gosnoll with a gun? Did you—”

He caught hold of her pointing finger and pressed her own hand to her mouth. “Esther, be quiet. I can’t think with you yammering on like that.”

“Yes, you need peace.” She didn’t try to remove the sarcasm from her tone.

“If I truly wanted peace, I wouldn’t have ever thought of marrying you.”

The past tense of his words drained the fight out of Esther. She dropped her hand to her side and stared at the ground. “That’s what Uncle Rafe said. If you’re a man of peace, you won’t want to marry me.”

“A wise man.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned away. “It’s getting dark. You should leave.”

“You mean run away?”

“Something like that.”

If she looked up to find that the cliff side had crushed down upon her chest, she wouldn’t have been surprised at that moment. She could scarcely breathe. She certainly couldn’t move. She could barely keep standing.

“What if I want to stay?” she managed to ask.

“Then I’ll go.”

“Why? You love me. I love you.”

“Esther.” He faced her, his hands on his hips now. “You were right happy enough to leave me behind before. Why won’t you go now when I want you to?”

“Because you don’t want me to. You just think you shouldn’t let me stay because of Bethann.”

“I let you go because I thought we couldn’t bear up under another scandal here.”

“Were you going to come after me?” She glided toward him a half step.

He braced his legs as though expecting her to throw herself at him. “I was going to come after you.”

“And I was coming back.”

Their eyes locked for a moment, then Griff looked away. “That was before we knew about Bethann. I reckon that changes everything.”

“Not for me it doesn’t.” She slid another half step forward, tilted her head, started to caress his stubbled cheek, then stopped, tucked her hand behind her back, and gave him a direct look. “I’m here.”

“You shouldn’t be. You come from finer folk.”

“Ha! I’ll have to tell you about those finer folk, like my father fighting a duel and Uncle Rafe being a privateer—and Aunt Phoebe! No, Griff, those finer folk don’t have spotless pasts either. And you know I don’t. I’m ruined as far as most men are concerned.”

“Not to me.”

Ah, the rocky cliff finally rolled off of her chest.

She rested her other hand on his shoulder, sidled just a bit closer. “We didn’t lie to Bethann at the end, Griff. The Bible doesn’t lie. ‘There is therefore now no condemnation.’ That isn’t a lie after all. We are not condemned because of what we’ve done or, worst of all, what others have done to us. Can you tell—”

He laid his fingers on her lips. “Miss Esther Cherrett preaching to me about God’s redemption?”

“I am a preacher’s daughter.” She smiled at him.

His face remained grim. “But you thought God no longer loves you or cares about you.”

“I did. I may have moments of doubt again. But when Phoebe asked me if you left me or I left you, I realized I’d gone away before you had a chance to think about all I’d told you and make up your mind for yourself. It made me realize how I thought God had abandoned me that night and I gave up on Him. He hadn’t given up on me. Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Nothing. We can run as far and as fast as we can, and He still loves us. I don’t have that same kind of all-forgiving love, Griff Tolliver, but if you try to run away from me, I’ll come after you, still loving you.”

He grinned. “You’ll chase me until I catch you?”

“Something like that.” And she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

She kissed him until he kissed her breathless. Then they sat on the side of the pool with their feet in the water and watched the stars waltz across the sky and light the waterfall to liquid silver.

“We should go,” Griff said. “Your reputation will be broke to bits.”

“I guess you’ll have to marry me then.”

They laughed and stayed where they were, watching the sky, listening to the waterfall’s continuous splashing and the sporadic noises of a forest at night.

“When will you marry me?” she asked.

“This ain’t—isn’t a leap year. You can’t ask me to marry you.”

“I didn’t. I asked when you would marry me.”

“Next time the preacher comes around?”

“Two weeks or so? I can manage that, except . . . I’d like my parents here.”

“Then we’ll go to them.”

She stared at him. “You’ll get off this mountain to do that for me?”

“I will. Gotta ask your pa for permission.” His hand closed over hers. “Will he give it?”

“Of course. I always get what I want.”

He groaned. “Then I pray we don’t have daughters to get spoiled like that.”

“I want at least one. It’s tradition to have a female healer in the family. Then lots and lots of sons to grow up just like you.”

They talked about their future, what they’d build for a school, a place where Esther could do her doctoring, a new manager for the mine. They talked of how to heal the rift with Zach.

“Find him a fine wife,” Esther said.

And when the sky began to pale and a few birds stirred in the trees, they gathered the strength and will to leave the waterfall to return to their families. Hand in hand, they strolled down the mountain and into the sunrise.

Epilogue

“I want . . . to see . . . my husband.” Esther Cherrett Tolliver spoke through teeth gritted against the pain of another contraction. “Now.”

“A birthing chamber is no place for a man,” Momma declared. “He can see you afterward.”

“
After
won’t be for hours.” Esther breathed more easily. “I don’t have your ancient years of experience, Momma, but I know I want to see my husband.”

“If he sees you in pain,” Phoebe said, “he’ll never come near you again.”

“Ha.” Esther started to laugh, but pain stopped her.

Momma leaned over her, gripping her hands, then smoothing a cool, damp cloth over her perspiring brow. “Hours, you said?”

“All right, perhaps sooner. But I still want . . . him.”

“In a few minutes.” With the brisk efficiency of experience, Phoebe examined Esther. “Sooner than you think. It’s your first.”

“And midwives make the worst patients.” Momma brought Esther some water. “But you’re doing well.”

“Better than I did. I wasn’t asking for Rafe. I wanted to kill him.” Phoebe laughed.

“But you have six children.” Esther managed a smile. “Now get my husband. Griff’s hands are stronger than yours, Momma. I want to hold on to him.”

The two older women exchanged glances.

“Esther,” Momma began.

Esther glared at her. “Now you decide not to spoil me. After a . . . lifetime . . .”

“Never too old to learn.” Momma smiled and caressed Esther’s cheek. “And you didn’t come up so bad in the end, did you?”

“No, but—please.” Esther released Momma’s hand for fear of crushing her delicate fingers and gripped the mattress. “Or perhaps I will kill him.”

Except she couldn’t imagine life without him, his love, his tenderness, the closeness that had produced this first baby. He honored her for her work on the mountain, which still didn’t have a doctor. If the people couldn’t cure something themselves, they came to her. She had saved Hannah’s life after a difficult lying-in, and then the women asked for Esther to aid them in childbirth. She had accepted her calling as a wife and midwife, and now, Lord willing, as a mother.

“Please,” she said again when she could speak. “Just for a minute.”

“Men don’t belong in the birthing chamber,” Momma repeated.

“They tend to faint,” Phoebe added.

“Then why do women call in male doctors?” Esther demanded. She raised herself on one elbow. “I’m going to get him myself if you don’t—”

Momma pushed her down. “Do you want to drop this baby in the hall?”

“I wouldn’t—” She gave in to the pain, then finished, “Or perhaps I would.” She dropped back onto the pile of pillows behind her. “You’d think I’d know how bad this is.” She blinked, and a tear slid down her face. “Just let me see him in case—in case I don’t . . . survive.”