The Endearment (6 page)

Anna, he thought, what should I do with you? How can I send you away? Yet how can I ask you to stay? And if I do, how far we have to go together, and how much we have to learn of one another.

 
He awakened in the morning when the sunlight was but a promise. It was the time when day hesitates before nudging the night away, the pale light tiptoeing into the room with scarcely the strength to threaten the shadows that lay heavily upon Anna as she slept on her side, facing Karl. She had an arm tucked beneath her ear, her chin tucked down childishly upon her chest. She wore a look of such innocence, that again he wondered if he were doing the right thing.

But his mind was settled. He had thought well and long about what was right, for both of them, and within the heart of Karl Lindstrom beat the conviction that together, he and Anna and the boy could make this thing work. They must make a marriage in which this unfortunate beginning was forgotten. If it took patience on his part, it would take courage on hers. If it took forgiveness on his part, it would take humility on hers. Each of them, he was sure, would need to have strengths the other lacked, for this was the foundation of a marriage.

Anna had, so far, shown the kind of strength many women lacked. Just coming here, braving it the way she had, with the boy she was responsible for, meant she had determination. A quality like that could be priceless here.

Karl rolled from his pallet, fully dressed, and knelt down on a single knee beside Anna. He had never before awakened a sleeping woman, except for his sisters and mother, and wondered if it were too intimate to touch her arm and shake her gently. Her arm lay relaxed over the buffalo robe, thin and long. He could see pale freckles upon the back of her hand. Despite the thin light, he saw more freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose, across her cheeks. Childishly she slept, unaware of how he studied her, and he thought it was somehow an unfair thing of him to do.

"Anna?" he whispered, and saw her eyelids move as if she were dreaming. "Anna?"

Her eyes flew open. In the instant she awoke they took on the look of startled wariness already so familiar to Karl. She stared at him for a moment, gathering her senses. He could tell by her expression the moment in which recollection stirred and she remembered where she was and who he was.

Because she looked so young and helpless and wary, he asked, "Did you know you have sandman in your eyes?"

She continued to stare at him as if surprised speechless. She blinked and felt the grit grinding against her eyelids, knowing it was there because she had been crying last night before going to sleep.

"It is time you get up and wash them out. Then I want to talk to you," Karl said.

The boy awoke at the sound of Karl's voice, so the man stood and spoke again. "Time to get up, boy. Let us leave your sister to get herself together." Then he stalked from the room.

"Anna?" James croaked, a little disoriented, too.

She rolled over to look at him. "You sound like a bullfrog this morning," she teased.

But he didn't smile. "Did he say what he decided?"

"No. He said he wants to talk to me. That's all. He's coming back as soon as he gives us time to get up."

"Hurry, then, let's get ready."

But although James scurried from the room, Anna lay for a moment, hesitant to leave the warm protection of the buffalo robes, wondering what Karl planned to do with her and James.

She thought of the curious words he'd used as he awakened her. They were gentle words, those used with a child. Perhaps he was usually a kind man whose temper had been tested in an extreme way yesterday by all her and James' revelations. Perhaps, given the chance, given time, Lindstrom would be less fierce and fault-finding, perhaps even gentle, as he'd been a moment ago. But when she thought of awakening in the same bed with him where he could note more than just the sandman in her eyes, Anna shivered.

She arose and tried to whisk the wrinkles out of her dress, rinsed her face and tied her hair back. A knock on the door told her Karl had returned, and she glanced up from where she knelt, gathering up the heavy buffalo robes.

He apparently had washed his face and combed his hair. He wore his little strange cap again. He came to stand beside her, gazing down at her wide, brown eyes that always wore that too open look whenever he came near.

"How did you sleep, Anna?"

"Fi ..." But her voice croaked almost as James' had, and she cleared her throat before trying again. "Fine." Her hands lay idle on the furs, as if she'd forgotten what she was about.

His simple question was meant to put her at ease, but he could see she was tense and apprehensive. It broke his heart to think that she might be this way because of him. He knelt down on one knee upon the buffalo robe she'd been folding. "Anna, I

did not sleep so well. I spent a long time thinking. Do you know what I learned while I thought?"

She shook her head no, saying nothing.

"I learned that I thought only of myself yesterday, and of what I wanted in a wife. Selfishly, I did not consider your opinion of me. All the time I think only of what Karl thinks of Anna, never what Anna thinks of Karl. But this is not right, Anna. Today, this must be a decision that both of us make, not just me."

She studied his golden arm braced across one upraised knee, knowing he studied her face while he spoke.

"We start out backward, Anna, yes? First we agree to marry, and it is only after this that we meet each other. And when I meet you, all I can do is get angry because you have lied to me, without considering why it was you lied. Father Pierrot made me see I must understand your side and realize you had to get out of
Boston
where things were bad for you and the boy." He studied the freckles on her cheeks and saw the pink glow beneath them, and could feel the thrum of his heart in strange places in his body. He wished she would raise her eyes. It was hard to read her feelings when she
 
avoided looking at him.

Anna's heart skittered and leapt in her breast at his unexpected gentleness and selflessness. Considerateness of this sort was foreign to her. She wanted terribly to meet the blue depths of his eyes, but had she done so, she thought she might start crying. She could only stare at the strong, brown hand draped over a wide kneecap as he went on speaking.

"Anna, it is not too late for you to go back. It is not too late for either of us to change our minds. I thought that now you have met me, maybe ... maybe you might not want to get married. Knowing how young you are and how you had to think of some way for you and the boy to live, I see you had to act quick, but maybe you think now you made a mistake, now that you see Karl Lindstrom. I think, Anna, that I must give you two choices. I must promise you first that if you want to go back, Father Pierrot and I will find a way to get you to
Boston
safely. Only if you are very sure this is not what you want, then I must give you the second choice to marry me."

The callus on his thumb grew wavery.

Anna felt the tears form upon her lashes and quiver there, just short of dropping. "I told you, I have nobody to go back to, no place to go back to." Still she did not look up at him.

"Father and I will try to think of something else if this is what you want. Some place for you to go and live here in
Minnesota
."

"Your place sounded pretty good to me," she braved timorously.

Yes, she was afraid of him. He knew it now because of the tremble in her voice.

"You are sure, Anna?"

She nodded at the buffalo robes.

"In that case, a girl should have the right to say she has been given a proper proposal of marriage, and that she truly had a choice in the matter, after she has met the man, not before."

Now she did look up. Her eyes flew to his face, so close above hers. His intense eyes had never left hers, were only waiting for her to raise her glance to his. Those eyes were liquid blue, shining with sincerity. She wondered how many girls had gazed into them and found them as heart-stopping as she did at this moment. The lashes were darker than the perfectly shaped eyebrows, which beckoned her fingers to trace their curve. That silly compulsion prompted her to close her fist about a handful of buffalo fur, to keep it from doing such an outrageous thing.

"Onnuh ..." he began, and during the long hesitation before he continued, she wanted to say, yes, yes, I am Onnuh now, say it once more just like that. And as if he heard her thought, he did. "Onnuh, if I am not what you thought I would be, I will understand. But if you think that we could forget this poor start we had yesterday, I promise I will be good to you, Onnuh. I will take both you and the boy with me."

Slowly one big hand went up to slide the cap from his hair, the old-country courtesy tearing at her heartstrings. He reached to take her elbow in his free hand. The warmth of his flesh, the look of need she read in his eyes, the feathertouch upon her elbow, all combined to make Anna feel light-headed and dizzy.

"Onnuh Reardon, will you marry me?"

She felt like she had awakened in the midst of some fantastic dream, to find this handsome blond giant kneeling upon one knee to her, rubbing her inner elbow with his thumb, an expression of intense hope and promise upon his sun-bronzed face.

Anna's lips fell open, a quickly drawn breath told the secret mingling of emotions she was experiencing: relief, fear, and--yes--a new, beating exhilaration that made her breasts seem tight and brought a film of perspiration to the palms of her hands.

"Yes," she breathed at last.

Karl smiled, a relieved tilting of the corners of his lips. He glanced at her hair once, then gave her elbow a light squeeze of reassurance.

"Good. We will make this our beginning then, right here. And everything else is forgotten, right?"

"Yes," she agreed, wondering wildly if she should confess the rest to him here and now. Yet she was terrified lest he withdraw his proposal and the security it offered. She gave him a wavering smile.

"We will make a good start ... just Karl and Anna ..." Then, with a full wide smile, he added, "and James."

"Karl and Anna and James," she repeated, almost like a vow.

Karl stood before her then. As she looked up, she noticed for the first time what straight teeth he had. Has he no flaws whatsoever? she wondered. Anna became ever more aware of a feeling of inferiority as she compared herself to him.

"Come," he said nicely, "I will help you roll up these robes, then we will go tell Father Pierrot the decision is made and we are ready."

Outwardly, Father Pierrot beamed as he shook their hands with great enthusiasm, saying, "I have every confidence that you will build a good and lasting marriage."

Inwardly, he was troubled. Although he had led Karl to believe he'd received a special dispensation from the diocese to act as a witness while these two spoke their own vows, this was not altogether true. Bishop Cretin had sympathized with the couple's plight, but had adamantly refused, saying such dispensation must come from the Holy Father himself in Rome and could take one to two years to get. Father Pierrot found this attitude hard. After all, he was not asking to perform the Sacrament--this he knew would be entirely out of the question!

So Father Pierrot had faced the dilemma of which dictates to follow, those of Holy Mother the Church or those of his own heart. Surely, it was a more Christian act to witness the sealing of vows between two such well-meaning souls and sanctify the union than to send them away to live in sin. This is the frontier, argued Michael Pierrot, the man within the ordained priest. This is the only church within a hundred miles, and these people have turned to it and to me with the best of intentions.

Michael Pierrot's human side was swayed also by the fact that Karl Lindstrom was a good friend. Their relationship surmounted any differences of faith. Leading the way toward the humble sacristy, the priest thought of this marriage as wholly right, perhaps the most fitting he might ever perform.

"Come, Anna, I will hear your confession now without delay, for I know you are both anxious to be on your way."

Totally taken off guard, Anna came up short behind the black cassock. "My ... my confession?" she blurted out, appalled.

"Yes, Anna, come," the priest said as he continued into the incense-scented vestry.

Anna's legs seemed to have turned to mush. She had instructed James to tell Karl that they were devout Catholics, knowing that the man wanted a wife of Christian bent. Never had Karl told her in his letters this mission was Catholic. If he had, she would obligingly have told him she was some other religion, to avoid having to prove Catholicism. As it was, she was now entangled in another lie.

"But can't I just ... I mean ... well, I don't want to go to confession."

"Anna," the priest chided, turning around, "forgive me for being direct, but last night Karl and I talked. He said you admitted telling him lies. These are sins, my child. You must confess them, so you will be in a state of grace before entering the state of marriage. Surely you know this."

Of course she didn't know this. All she knew about the Catholic church was that it was warm inside St. Mark's, and they refused no one entry there.