The Rescue (39 page)

What words are needed at a time like this? Even having experienced loss in my life, I’m not sure. I didn’t sit and think about what I wanted to say; I’ve simply begun my letter so you can know all my thoughts.

First of all, I love you. You are beyond precious to me. It is for this reason that my heart breaks for your pain. I so wish the journey was a bit shorter. Do know that I would have come if I could have made it in time.

What will the days be like for you now? I know that I can speak to you as a sister in our Lord, and although He fills our every need, you will know a certain emptiness, Anne. You will experience a void that will last for a time. There might be a measure of relief. Do not fight this—it’s normal. But mostly you will be reminded again and again that he’s gone. In time this will lessen for you. In time the pain will fade. Do not rush your heart. Do not make yourself bear up and be brave. If you need to cry, indulge yourself. Robert will always understand.

I wish I had known your father, Anne. You expressed wanting to know me because of the son I had raised. I know your father was not well in these last years, but I too would have enjoyed meeting the father of my precious Anne.

The comfort that I have knowing God and Robert are with you is indescribable. I pray that you will be comforted as well. God’s will and timing are always perfect, even when we wish to argue. Ask Him to keep your thoughts clear of bitterness or anger, and be thankful for His timetable. I will pray that very thing for you every day.

If my timing is not all wrong, I would love to come and see you. Will early October work? There will be no wounded feelings on my behalf if you wish me to delay this visit. I will come at your discretion and will wait for your word on the matter.

Please greet Robert for me.

Love to you both,
Mother

Quite confident as to what his answer would be, Anne did not even seek her husband out. She immediately started a letter back to London, one telling Lenore to come whenever she liked.

“Do you know what your mother likes to eat?” Anne asked Weston a week before she was to arrive.

“Everything we like.”

“That was vague.”

“Was it?”

Anne smiled, now having caught on to what he was doing.

“I want to make it special for her.”

“I know, love, and it will be special. Just her visiting will make it special. She won’t care what she eats.”

“But we could surprise her with one particular meal.”

“True,” Weston agreed, thinking maybe Anne did need this diversion. She had been drawn and pale lately, and he didn’t want her overly burdened with anything.

“Can you think of one thing?”

“She’s fond of chocolate and cocoa.”

“All right.”

Anne was ready to ask for more, but Mansfield came to the door.

“Your guests are here, Mr Weston.”

“Thank you, Mansfield. Please tell them I’ll be out soon.”

“I didn’t know you were expecting company,” Anne commented.

Weston stopped himself from telling her that they had talked of it.

“It’s Jennings with Jeffrey, Thomas, James, Frank, and Walt. As part of their course on mathematics, Jennings wants them to measure and study the construction on the conservatory.”

Anne nodded as it came back to her. Not wanting to keep her husband or his guests waiting, she didn’t ask any other questions, but the matter was not really settled about what his mother liked to eat.

Weston had no more left her when Anne felt too tired to care. Wanting to enjoy her mother-in-law’s visit, Anne wondered when she would ever feel lighthearted again.

“She sleeps quite a bit.”

“I think that might be normal, dear,” Lenore tried to reassure her son, even as she felt her own sense of worry.

“I’m hoping your being here will cheer her some.”

Lenore nodded, not able to promise him anything, even though she wished for the same thing.

The door to the salon opened, and Anne came in. She smiled in true pleasure at the sight of Weston’s mother.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you.”

“Robert did the honors, dear. Don’t give it a thought. How are you?”

“Doing well, I think. Better when I rest. I must admit that I nap most days.”

Lenore had taken her hand.

“You need that right now. Don’t worry about entertaining me. We’ll just visit or do whatever you like.”

Anne’s heart lightened at the prospect. It had been many years since she’d had a mother, and Weston’s mother was so fun and easy to be with.

Lenore’s visit signaled a period for fun. The three of them shopped a bit and even dined out, but most of the two-week visit found Lenore and Anne walking, talking, reading, or puttering in the garden. Anne was able to put some of her mourning on the shelf and enjoy this visit.

Lenore enjoyed it as well and left with the promise that she would come again for Christmas.

Weston was headed to town. His mother had been gone for a few days, and his wife had held up beautifully during this time, but he could see that her heart was still broken. He wanted to find her a gift, something that would make her smile.

After breakfast he had been vague about where he was headed or how long he would be gone, and he did not invite her to go with him.

“Are you all right?” Anne questioned him, a little concerned.

“Yes,” he told her, punctuating his words with a kiss. “I just have a bit of business on my mind.”

Weston told himself he was being truthful: It was the business of finding his wife a gift, and not just any gift but one she would treasure.

“Did you need me to pick anything up?”

“No, I shall be fine, thank you.”

Weston kissed her again, and with a good deal of enthusiasm took his leave. Anne wondered at his business and wished she’d asked but decided not to worry about it. In truth, she’d realized in the night that she hadn’t played the piano for weeks and headed to the music room immediately.

It didn’t take long for Anne to forget Weston’s trip to town. One of her favorite pieces of music was still on the piano, and in moments the room filled with the sounds of her playing. She was deep into the melody before she realized she was being watched. Hands still moving, she glanced up to see her husband coming toward her, his face showing surprise. Anne came to an awkward halt, not sure what was wrong.

“You play the piano.” Weston stated the obvious.

“I thought you were gone.” Anne said the first thing that came to mind.

“I forgot something and had to come back. Why have you not played before?”

“I do…I have…” she began, stumbling a bit. “I guess you weren’t here.”

Weston’s brows rose in surprise. He wasn’t away very often. How could he have missed this?

Seeing Anne look uncomfortable, Weston immediately tabled his plans to leave. He went to his wife, joining her on the piano bench. Things were coming back to him now. The look on Anne’s face the night at Berwick when they’d listened to Louisa Cavendish play, the interest she’d shown in the music at the bookstore—clear indications he’d totally missed.

“I need to ask you some things,” Weston said quietly.

“All right.”

“When did you first play this piano? When I was on my trip?”

“I think that was it, yes. So much has happened since then.”

“Is that why you haven’t played since, or have I made you feel as though you mustn’t?”

“No, nothing like that. I hadn’t played in many years, so I guess the first time I wished to be alone, but not now. It only just occurred to me last night that it had been some time since I’d come back to this room.”

“When did you learn?”

“As a girl.” Anne smiled at the thought. “My mother taught me.”

“Did you have your own piano at one time?”

“Yes.”

“And it had to be sold,” he stated more than asked.

“Of course.”

Sitting side by side staring at each other, the two laughed.

Weston watched her, never growing tired of her nearness. “Have you ever thought about how blessed we are?” he asked.

“Often.”

“We could have gone for years without this level of care and commitment to each other, this love for each other, but we grew into it rather soon, didn’t we?”

Anne put her hands on his face, touching him gently and marveling at the special man he was.

“God must have prepared our hearts, do you not think?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“I was embarrassed in front of you after the ordeal with our first ‘marriage,’ but after we talked at the manse, I knew such a peace.”

“With the occasional doubt creeping in,” he teased her, thinking of the times she’d asked him if he had regrets.

Anne kissed him.

“Play something.”

In an instant she was shy.

“I thought you were going to town.”

“I will, but play something first.”

“Don’t watch me. I really am quite rusty.”

Anne took on a case of the giggles when Weston stayed on the bench but turned his back to her.

“Go on now,” he said, his back still to her and the piano.

Anne took a moment but eventually began to play, softly at first, wanting to keep laughing at her husband’s broad back, so close to her shoulder. But in time the music took over. When Weston did turn back around, Anne didn’t notice. She played with complete concentration, making herself repeat parts that were anything short of perfect. When the piece ended, she again turned to the man next to her.

“You peeked.”

Weston didn’t answer. He stared at her for what seemed like minutes before placing his arms around her. The two enjoyed a long and tender kiss and the piano was forgotten. Indeed, Weston never did leave for town that day.

Chapter Twenty-One

The door to their bedrooms was left open now. Neither Weston nor Anne felt any need for privacy from the other, so the door lay back against the wall in Weston’s room most of the time. For this reason, Anne was nearly to Weston’s shoulder before he realized she had entered. He was reading his Bible but put a hand out to catch hers.