The Rescue (18 page)

She was heavy on Marianne’s mind even after she left, and Marianne wondered why.

“You look pensive,” Jennings commented when he found his wife alone on the drive.

“I was thinking about Anne.”

“Is she all right?”

Marianne turned to face her spouse.

“She was when she left, but for some odd reason I think something rather momentous might be looming.”

Jennings’ brows rose, but he didn’t comment. He wasn’t exactly sure what his wife meant. Beyond that she looked as though she needed to be alone with her thoughts.

Jennings put a gentle arm around her to lead her back inside but didn’t question her further.

The Manse

“I fear she’ll think we’ve plotted against her.”

“All right. How else do you suggest we do this?”

Pastor and Judith stared at each other.

“Judith?” her husband pressed, and Judith looked helpless in her frustration.

“Frederick,” she said at last, her voice still telling of her worry. “If we tell her as soon as she arrives, she won’t be able to eat a thing. If we wait, I won’t be able to pretend that nothing is going on, and she’ll wonder at my odd behavior during lunch.”

Pastor nodded, his mind working on it. His wife had a very good point. This subject was sure to have an effect on his behavior as well.

“I’m certain there will be nothing brief about our conversation,” Pastor suddenly realized. “We’ll tell Anne as soon as she arrives—over lunch even—and we’ll encourage her to eat when she’s ready.”

“All right.”

Pastor Hurst looked down at his wife’s face, seeing for the first time how painful this could be for all of them. Prior to this he had only thought of Anne and Weston. His wife’s strained face was a reminder of how shortsighted he’d been.

“Miss Gardiner is here,” the housekeeper announced from the doorway.

“Thank you, Phoebe. We’ll be right along.”

Giving his wife a last look and even taking time to smile into her eyes, Pastor Hurst took her hand and led her toward the door.

Anne was being hugged and greeted by the couple just moments later, her eyes alight with pleasure at seeing them.

“How are you?” Judith asked.

“I’m well. I was just over to see Marianne Jennings. She’s feeling rather confined these days, but we had a lovely visit.”

You would have walked all that way to see her,
Judith couldn’t help but think.
And then Marianne would have ordered a carriage to bring you back here. Please, Father God,
Judith suddenly begged,
please take care of Anne. If marrying Weston is the way to do that, please help her to see.

“Lunch is on,” Judith said, trying to cover her riotous thoughts. “Shall we go in?”

“That sounds lovely.”

In the spacious, wood-paneled dining room, Pastor took the end of the wide table, his wife on his right side and Anne on his left. He asked Phoebe to leave the dishes so they could serve themselves, and when everyone had bowls of soup, conversation began.

“We have news, Anne,” Pastor began.

Anne swallowed the soup in her mouth and looked up. “Have you?”

“Yes. Someone has asked for your hand in marriage.”

Anne blinked, her spoon frozen over the bowl.

“Are you all right, Anne?” Judith asked.

“Is it someone I know?” she asked after a moment of silence, suddenly looking terribly young and vulnerable.

“Yes,” Pastor said, knowing the moment was at hand. “It is Mr Weston.”

The spoon landed back in the soup bowl an instant later, splashing some of the liquid onto Anne’s hand. She didn’t appear to notice.

“Why?” was the only word she could manage.

“A number of reasons. He admires you and cares for you. He is also aware of the changes that have occurred in your life since the ‘marriage,’ and knows that your becoming his wife would rectify that.”

“So he pities me.” Anne’s voice was flat and resigned.

“Not in the least!” Pastor said briskly. “I asked him that very thing, and he laughed at the idea.” The man studied her for a moment. “He also feels it’s best to act swiftly. He’s very mindful of your reputation and feels it’s suffered enough.”

Suddenly flustered, Anne looked down and reached for her napkin. After cleaning her hand, she pushed her soup bowl away. Judith’s eyes went to her spouse, begging him to somehow rescue them all.

“Does he not understand that I come with nothing?” she asked, her voice showing her shock. “Does he not understand the full extent of my circumstances?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Then he’s a fool, and I couldn’t marry a fool!”

For some reason the statement, along with Anne’s outraged face, caused Judith to chuckle. When a small giggle slipped out, the other occupants of the table both looked at her in surprise.

“I’m sorry,” she said, still fighting a smile. “It’s just so funny.”

“What is?”

“Anne’s outrage that Weston’s a fool for wanting to marry her. I’ve been thinking that if he
doesn’t
notice her, he’s a fool.”

“Why, Judith?” Anne asked. “Why do you feel that way?”

“Because you’re a godly, lovely, and sweet woman, and he would be blind not to fall for you.”

Anne looked to her pastor.

“Are you saying he’s in love with me?”

“No, I’m not. But as I said, he does care, and he believes that you can have a marriage built on mutual respect and caring.”

“A real marriage?” Anne clarified.

“Yes.”

Anne fell quiet. Not looking at her hosts, she sat and prayed, asking God for wisdom but also knowing whom else she must ask: the person she had often gone to in the past.

“Pastor Hurst?” she called his name and looked into his eyes.

“Yes, Anne.”

“Do you feel I should accept this offer?”

“Yes, Anne, I do.”

“And you did say he wanted a real marriage, not one in name only?”

“Yes.”

“Judith, may I see you alone?”

“Of course, dear.”

“I’ll go,” Pastor offered when the women made to rise.

They thanked him and sat looking at each other even after he exited. For some odd reason, Judith wanted to cry, but she held herself in check.

“Judith, will Mr Weston want intimacy right away?”

“I don’t know, Anne, but if he does, it would be best to follow his lead.”

“Why is that?”

“Waiting for such things can put a strain on both of you. It sounds horrific when you don’t know one another well, but that’s an aspect of marriage that should not be in limbo. Unless both parties agree to abstain, doing so is just too stressful. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, I understand. It’s the way we’re created. It’s just a bit hard to imagine when we’re not in love.”

“Do you not think, Anne,” Judith asked quietly, “that you might come to love him?”

“That’s just it, Judith, I probably will. It’s not knowing whether he’ll ever return my love that frightens me.”

“Do you not think he’ll fall for you as well?”

“Why would he?”

Judith smiled, a huge, knowing smile that caused Anne to laugh.

“It’s all very well for you to laugh at me, Judith Hurst, when you’re not faced with the prospect of marrying a stranger!”

Judith reached for her hand, her face still wreathed in soft smiles.

“Please don’t think we’re being lighthearted about this, Anne. We know how serious it is, but Frederick has become quite close to Mr Weston, and I do trust his advice on the matter. If your heart tells you otherwise, you must liten, but if you’re not sure what to do, do not be afraid to heed my husband’s counsel.”

Anne fell quiet again, but this time the silence was brief.

“Must I decide now, Judith? Would it be all right to ask Mr Weston some questions?”

“Certainly. I believe Frederick was going to advise that very thing. He feels the two of you should meet and share your thoughts on the matter. You both need to be certain of this.”

Judith made sure Anne’s questions for her were covered and then went in search of her husband. When he came back to the table, Anne informed him she would like to meet with and discuss the matter with Mr Weston.

Outwardly quite calm, Pastor Hurst agreed, telling Anne he would see to the matter, but inside he was feeling as though he could weep with thankfulness.

Levens Crossing

Anne studied her father quite openly at dinner that evening. He ate, but his mind was many miles away—she could read it in his eyes—therefore he had no hint of her scrutiny.

When she took time to think about it, she realized they got on very well. There was always the worry of money running short, but odd as the situation had become, it was survivable. Whenever Anne’s mind did stop long enough to think along these lines, she would ask herself what went on inside of the man she called Father. She also asked questions about a fever so elevated and lengthy that it affected a man’s mind forever. The illness had been a long and frightening time for her, but nowhere near as long as the time since. She could count on one hand the occasions he’d looked at her with true recognition. At times she ached for the father whose eyes had been filled with love for her and her mother, but she had learned early on that it did no good to pine.

Tonight she missed her mother too. Losing her had been a severe blow. Anne had only been 14. At a time when a young lady needs her mother, Anne’s had been gone. Her mother’s sister had been around for a while, but she could not get over the loss. Only months after her sister’s death, Aunt Caroline had announced she was going away. She didn’t say where she was headed or when she would return, but her lack of contact over the months and then years confirmed one thing. She would not be coming back.

But all was not lost. Anne had had her father. His smile wasn’t quite as bright, and he didn’t laugh as easily, but they had fared well together. Then, less than two years after her mother’s death, her father grew ill. Life did not recover its normalcy after that. Anne found herself merely surviving.

Having her father remain but not as the same man had left Anne in a sea of worry and doubt. She had had no choice but to turn to God’s Word, as she’d seen her mother do countless times. Only then did she find solace and a way to cope with all that life had placed before her.

And now a new issue had surfaced, certainly not one born of tragedy, but one that left a lingering question: What was to be done about Mr Weston’s suggestion? Would she suddenly know what to do once they’d met face-to-face at the end of the week to discuss the matter?

Anne shook her head and spooned preserves onto the bread in her hand. It didn’t seem likely. She didn’t want to leave Mr Weston in doubt for an unreasonable time, but Anne seriously questioned if she would know that swiftly.

You could just take Pastor’s advice,
she thought to herself and then mulled that option over for a time.

“Is there tea, dear?” her father suddenly questioned her, and she found his eyes on her.

“Yes, Father. I’ll get you some.”

“Is that a new dress?”

“No, I’ve had this one for a time,” Anne told him, not wanting to think about how many times she’d made it over and repaired it.

“Well, it’s very nice on you.”

“Thank you.”

“Does your husband like it?”

Anne froze. She had just filled his teacup but now stood quite still.

“My husband?”

“Yes, Mr Weston. Does he like it?”

Oh, mercy!
was Anne’s only thought as she worked to frame a reply, but she need not have worried. A moment later her father’s face turned away again. A glance at his eyes told Anne he had returned to that faraway place.

Anne went back to her meal with shaking hands. She was genuinely hungry—something she hadn’t been during lunch—and did eat, but an odd sensation had begun to spiral inside of her. It lingered until she retired for the night.