What Once Was Lost (45 page)

A grin twitched at his cheek. “If he isn’t, perhaps another clop on the head might knock some sense into him.”

Christina couldn’t stifle a laugh, but she clapped her hand over her mouth, muffling the sound. Tommy and Cora slept, and she didn’t want to wake them.

Ben hesitated in the doorway. “Shall I ride out tomorrow and retrieve you?”

From the shadows at the foot of the stairway, Levi Jonnson materialized. He stepped beside Christina and addressed Ben. “I’ll make sure Christina gets back to town. My wagon’s still here.”

Heat flooded Christina’s face when Ben’s grin turned knowing. He tipped his hat, gave a dapper bow, and departed, leaving Christina standing very close to Levi at the doorway. The lamp glow lit his profile, the blond whiskers on his cheeks picking up the light. Tousled hair, grizzled cheeks, tired eyes … and still so handsome Christina’s stomach fluttered in response. For long seconds they stood looking at each other, with Jay and Mary Ann Creeger’s soft voices carrying from the newly rebuilt kitchen and Tommy’s occasional snuffle competing with the gentle croak of a bullfrog somewhere outside.

Levi cleared his throat, and Christina jumped. He apologized, and she released a light giggle, the sound so girlish it startled her. “It’s all right. I suppose I’m a little jumpy from the long day of worry.”

His brows furrowed, genuine concern showing in his green-blue eyes. “You’re tired. I should leave and let you rest.”

Yes, she was tired, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. The evening’s revelations—not only Dresden’s confession, but her own to God concerning
why she’d followed in her parents’ footsteps—still stood out strongly in her mind. And Levi had said something that bore examination. She said, “I don’t want you to go. Not yet.”

His lips quirked into an odd little smile.

That silly rush of heat returned. She ducked her head. “I … I hoped we might … talk.”

He held his hand toward the front porch, and she stepped outside. The night air was cool but not overly so. Even so, Levi tugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The duck fabric was warm from his body, infused with the musky smell of his skin. Another wash of warmth flooded her cheeks. But she wouldn’t remove it.

She led him through the patch of lamplight that fell from the window to the corner of the porch where a white painted swing hung on tarnished chains. A cricket began chirping a cheerful song as they settled into the seat together. Stars winked blue and white in a black velvet sky, like many eyes keeping watch. The breeze tossed coils of Christina’s hair across her shoulders. To her amazement, Levi reached out and lifted one strand, seeming to examine its texture between his fingers, then tucked it gently behind her ear. The tender gesture brought the sting of tears to her eyes. She whispered, “Thank you.”

His hand lingered near her ear, his fingertips brushing the delicate spot on her jaw line. Did he feel the pounding of her pulse? Discombobulated by the unfamiliar feelings coursing through her, she blurted, “What did you mean when you said you’d found your place in Brambleville?”

He lowered his hand, placing it over his thigh as if holding himself in the swing. He cast a sidelong look in her direction, his eyebrows lifting. “That question requires a lengthy answer. Are you sure you want to explore it?”

At that moment she wanted to explore everything about him. She nodded.

“All right.” Levi pulled in a long breath, his shoulders squaring. Then he shifted on the seat, placing his arm along the back. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t need to in order to alert her senses. She nearly sizzled, having him so
near. And when he began to speak in a soft, serious voice that held both pain and peace, she found herself mesmerized.

“I’ve held on to a burden—a burden of unforgiveness—for many years, and it kept me from trusting people. I told Tommy that folks kept their distance from him because they weren’t sure what to say to him—that being uncomfortable with his blindness and his scars kept them quiet. I encouraged him not to blame them for their ignorance. But not once did I stop to offer the people who turned their backs on my far—my father—the same understanding.”

Christina braved a question. “What happened to your father?”

A sad smile crossed his face. “Far was a furniture maker—a true craftsman. His designs were unique, different from anything else available, and people clamored to purchase his fine tables, desks, and wardrobes. He couldn’t keep up with orders, so he brought in a partner. The partner, without my father’s knowledge, took Far’s designs and showed them to a man who owned a furniture factory. That man stole the designs, purchased patents so no one else—not even my father—could use them, and then simplified them for his workers to churn out the pieces in great numbers and at a much-reduced cost.”

The unfairness pierced Christina. “So your father’s business was ruined?”

Levi nodded, his head low. “He felt he’d lost everything. He sank into a deep melancholy and refused to come out no matter how much Mor begged and prayed. She tried to get Far into a hospital where they treated illnesses of the mind, but we had no money, so they refused him admittance. Townspeople held their distance from our family, some fearful and others disdainful of my father’s odd behavior. Far died two years later, a broken, bitter man. And I’ve carried his bitterness with me, blaming the townspeople for their unkindnesses toward us, blaming his partner for cheating him, blaming God for not healing my father. I refused to forgive, and I refused to trust. And the one I hurt the most by holding myself away from everyone was myself.”

Christina gazed at him in silence. So much pain he carried. She dared to brush his arm with her fingerstips. “I’m so sorry, Levi.”

He turned to look deep into her eyes, startling her with the intensity of his gaze. “I am, too, for the years I’ve wasted, hiding away, thinking I could be happy completely on my own. I was wrong, Christina—so very wrong.”

Something in his eyes ignited a warmth deep in her soul. She held her breath, wondering what he might say next.

His voice turned husky, thick, as if he battled a fierce emotion. “I might have gone on that way my entire life if you hadn’t come knocking on my door in the middle of the night and forcing an eleven-year-old boy into my keeping. But you did, and now everything’s changed.” He took her hands, his grip strong yet gentle. “I never wanted to be like my father, yet I’ve become him, trapping myself in solitude. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of running from the God I loved and trusted as a boy. I’m tired of carrying the burden of bitterness. I realized tonight when Tommy lifted his hands to me in complete trust—me, who he has never seen—that it’s time for me to lean trustingly into the hands of the One who might be unseen but is always watching me.”

Tears pricked Christina’s eyes. The sincerity in his face, the fervency of his tone, the sure pressure of his fingers on hers communicated so beautifully his desire to return to a right relationship with God. She clung to his hands, unable to speak, but hoping he read joy in the smile she offered.

The cricket ceased its chatter. The lamp flickered and then went out, leaving the two of them in deep, shadowy silence. The moon slipped lower in the sky, its white face fading as the black changed to a smudged gray. In the east, pink fingers of dawn crept upward, announcing the impending arrival of the sun.

Levi pointed to the wisp of lavender illuminated by the first rosy beams. “Look, Christina. A new day is dawning.”

Christina absorbed the sight, her heart lifting. Papa’s voice rose from her memory, and she found herself repeating his oft-delivered words of promise. “No matter how dark the night, God’s mercies are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness.”

Levi’s hand slipped from the back of the swing to Christina’s shoulder. He
drew her against him, his chin resting lightly against her temple. Together, they watched the sky change until the sun eased above the horizon. And when its bright beams had chased away the vestiges of night, Levi rose and held out his hand.

“Come, Christina. I’ll take you and Tommy to town. The sheriff said he needed you to stop by the office and confirm Dresden’s confession.”

Christina took his hand, allowing him to draw her to her feet. But she didn’t move toward the house. Not yet. She met his gaze. “And … then what?”

“And then …” His fingers tightened on hers. Determination squared his jaw. “I must return to my mill.” He lifted her hand, placed it in the bend of his elbow, and guided her into the house.

Chapter 45

As Ben had predicted, Sheriff Garner apologized to Christina for the confusion. Withdrawing Christina’s watch from a drawer in his desk, he said with a hint of contrition, “I got this back from Dresden, but I’ve gotta take it to the Creegers. They bought it from you, you know.”

Christina nodded. She stood on the boardwalk and watched the sheriff until he disappeared into the mercantile. Part of her wished she could follow the man and offer to buy back Papa’s watch, but she needed the little money in her pocket for her new start. Now that the poor farm house was no longer hers, she must seek a place to live. She’d promised Ben not to leave town until he’d received a letter from Mr. Dunnigan, which he’d been instructed to share with Christina. Until then, he would cover her hotel bill. Although tempted to decline their charity, she swallowed her pride and offered appreciation instead. The old adage “ ’Tis easier to give than to receive” certainly rang true after spending her life observing her parents giving to anyone in need. How odd to be the one in need, yet how peaceful to rely on God to meet her needs.

She set off for the hotel, tiredness slowing her pace. Had she really sat up all night talking with Levi Jonnson? If Mr. Regehr knew, he’d call her unseemly, and this time he’d be right. Although she’d done nothing untoward—except lean against his shoulder and let him hold her hand—her feelings for him delved more deeply than her actions indicated. As she’d sat on the swing with him, listening to him share his darkest hurts and then profess his desire to stop hiding, she’d longed for him to draw her into his embrace, to declare he wanted to build a future with her, to press his lips to hers in tender possession.

But despite the sweet embrace they’d shared, igniting hope within her breast, upon reaching town he’d merely deposited her at the sheriff’s office,
offered a quiet and somewhat regretful farewell, and departed with Tommy in tow. Tears threatened. What of all his fine words proclaiming a desire to change? Hadn’t he meant them after all? Or perhaps he wanted to change but not with her. The thought hurt.

She entered the hotel, offered a smile and a hello to the clerk in response to his greeting, then climbed the stairs to her room. Once she was inside her little sanctuary, the long night of worry and no sleep stole her remaining energy. Still fully clothed, she stretched out on the bed, closed her eyes, and allowed exhaustion to carry her away.

Levi paused in carving a rose petal into the fragrant piece of cedar and glanced at Tommy. The boy hummed as he twisted the ends of two lengths of reed across each other. A smile grew on his face of its own volition. How good to see Tommy’s cheerful countenance restored.

Such a time of healing the two of them had shared the past few days. The boy had asked forgiveness for keeping silent about smelling Dresden’s cigar when Francis accompanied him to the outhouse the night the poor farm caught fire. He’d wept, his face pressed to Levi’s chest, and lamented how much trouble could have been avoided if he’d told instead of allowing fear to keep him quiet. Levi had assured the boy he shouldn’t carry regret and said, “From now on we’ll trust each other, yes?” And with a shuddering sob, Tommy had agreed.

With the release of regret, peacefulness descended. Levi sent up a quick, grateful prayer for the lessons learned and then set aside his tools. He strode across the floor and put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Levi examined the frame and woven pattern formed by thin strips of reed. He shook his head, awed. Tommy’s nimble fingers, keen sense of touch, and abundance of determination had brought success.

“You did it, Tommy. It’s perfect.”

The boy beamed upward, his head bobbing in excitement. “It is?”

“It is. I’m so proud of you.”

“I can do the chair now?”

Levi ruffled the boy’s hair. He needed a haircut. But then, so did Levi. They’d both get one so they’d look spit-shined and presentable when he delivered his gift to Christina. “You know what, Tommy? You already did.”

Tommy’s mouth fell open.

Levi chuckled. “That frame I made for you to practice with the reeds will fit the opening in the seat. So now all I have to do is pry out the old one and put the new one in its place.”

Tommy jumped up and pounded the air with both fists. “I did it!” His flailing brought one hand against Levi’s arm. He gripped Levi’s shirt. “Can we show Miss Willems? Huh? I want her to see what I done.” Then his excitement faded. “But she might still be mad at me … for telling that lie about her to the sheriff.”

“She won’t be mad,” Levi said, certainty squaring his shoulders.