27. Viola
Viola
I’d asked the Lady, “How do I find my way home?”
What did the heart-shaped rock signify? My heart was headed straight toward Jacob, even though he didn’t want me in his future. His words had silenced the music inside me, and he hadn’t even noticed. He wanted to be responsible only for himself. No relationship.
Maybe the rock meant he would help me get home or maybe the Lady’s answer meant I should guard my heart, turn it to stone. Too late, Lady of the Lake.
All this churned inside me as I turned and locked eyes with Jacob.
He flinched like a startled rabbit—a guilty one. He didn’t flee but kept his gaze fixed on mine, refusing to look away. Stubborn, impossible man.
I refused to blink. He probably didn’t even realize he’d hurt me.
Blast. I rolled my eyes.
After a moment, his mouth curved into a lopsided smile, and the intensity on his face softened.
With only the slightest resistance on my part, he drew me in.
We stretched out on blankets in the shade.
The simple, delicious lunch and the peaceful setting left me lazy, but not at peace.
I lay back and turned my face toward the puffy clouds drifting between the branches overhead.
I clutched the rock in my pocket, acutely aware of Jacob lying on his side nearby, his head propped on his hand, his breathing slow and steady.
Erik pulled a hat over his face and soon fell asleep, snoring.
Beth and Jo stood with exaggerated slowness, stretched, and ambled off. Jo murmured something about the black dirt way up the bank.
Silence stretched long and thin.
Jacob asked, “Did you get your answer?”
I turned my head toward him, then shifted to mirror his pose. One hand propped up my head, and the other pressed to the blanket in front of me.
“I think so… but I’m still trying to understand what it means.”
“Until recently,” Jacob said, “I thought I understood the answer the Lady gave me—but now I’m not so sure.”
He turned my palm over for inspection. The raw area stood out but was starting to heal after Mrs. Jensen’s ointment.
“Unsure about a lot lately,” he murmured as he raised my hand once again to his lips.
I bit my lip to stop it from trembling, the pain a counterpoint to Jacob’s warm kiss on my palm.
He returned my hand to the blanket but covered it with his own, running his thumb gently back and forth in what was now a familiar gesture.
I grasped for a safe topic. “We’re going into town tomorrow?”
“Church. And Ma thinks we should ask the depot to spread word of you to stations farther up and down the line.”
Jacob paused and looked down at our hands. He laced his fingers with mine.
“Do you think it’ll work?” I asked, not knowing what to hope for.
“Before you know it, your family will find you, and you’ll be on your way home.” His fingers tightened around mine. “Soon you’ll be gone.”
He would let me go.
A forgotten melody.
My heart turned cold and hard as the stone in my pocket.
Something crossed his face. His shoulders dropped. Relief? I was adding to his burdens.
I rolled onto my back, pulled my hand free, and threw my forearm over my face.
Erik continued to snore nearby.
I whispered, “Surely you’ll be glad to see me go.” I swallowed. “Then you’ll be responsible for one less person.” I didn’t look at him.
The sudden stillness of his body stilled the air around us. But nothing could stop the cracks spreading through my heart.
“Vee,” he said, voice deeper than usual.
I refused to meet his gaze. A hot tear escaped and slid down my cheek. Blast.
“Viola,” he said, and his finger brushed my face, stealing my tear. He applied gentle but insistent pressure until I turned my head to face him.
I refused to watch him say words that would break my heart and confirm my fears. He would explain how I didn’t fit his plans. Would tell me it had all been a mistake… I wanted to cover my ears like a sulky child.
He said nothing for a long while, likely waiting for me to open my eyes. Finally, he whispered, his face only inches from mine, “Viola, I’m so sorry…”
“Worms!” Beth sang as she returned through the trees.
Erik stirred and sat up. Soon, everyone else was out on the dock, wagering about how many fish there would be for dinner. The weeping willow threw shade over the lake on the far side of the dock, and all three cast their lines into that deeper, darker area. They turned their backs to us.
Jacob started in again. “Viola…”
I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t want to hear his words. “Jacob, please. Stop—just stop. You don’t need to say anything more. You’re right. Soon, I will be gone.”
But I didn’t want him to stop. Silently, I willed him to argue, to fight for the impossible. To fight for me, for us. Please, do something—anything—to make it not hurt like this. Don’t let me go.
I’m such a fool.
He said nothing.
When the silence turned painful, he stood and walked down to the water’s edge, leaving me alone on the blanket with only a rock and my cold, broken heart for company.
Blast him.
Lady… what should I do?