Chapter 17
Chloe sat on a fallen log at the edge of a clearing she’d found a short distance behind her cabin. It was a small meadow, one she could throw a stone across, surrounded by cottonwood and a couple of young, flowering Redbud trees, along with shrubs and scrub brush.
The spot was peaceful and quiet save the chirp of a bird high above.
Her elbows rested on her knees, her chin settled against her cupped hands as she watched a butterfly flit around small batches of wildflowers scattered in the meadow, the ankle high grass fresh and green.
A gentle breeze slithered through the trees, causing leaves to rustle and branches to tap gently against one another.
“I’m afraid,” she murmured.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she thought of telling Nathaniel and his family the whole truth, but how could she?
She wasn’t ready to go back out on her own again, especially not now with Eliza.
How was she to care for herself and her child with no job, no place to live, and no prospects?
It was a nightmare she’d already lived. She had to keep her secret, if just for a little while longer, until she’d managed to save up some money, but where would she go then?
She couldn’t drag Eliza from place to place like she’d been living since, well, it seemed like forever.
“Eliza deserves home and stability. She deserves to be loved and know how deeply I love her,” she whispered into the breeze caressing her face. Her words brought her no relief from her inner turmoil.
Nathaniel was aware something was wrong.
She could tell by the way he’d been looking at her since she’d shown him the bullet cartridge.
Not with accusation or blame, but with curiosity.
She’d never been good at hiding her emotions.
Her cheeks would flush hot or she wouldn’t be able to meet someone’s eyes, or she’d unconscionably hunch her shoulders or …
what did gamblers call them? Tells. She had several tells.
She heaved a tired, shaky sigh and looked up at the sky—it was a soft blue with a few wisps of clouds floating on that breeze way up there.
She hadn’t slept much last night, hadn’t seen Nathaniel this morning when she sat at the table with Dalia and Lillian and Eliza for breakfast. An hour ago, Eliza had left with Lillian to go back to the orphanage.
“Am I doing the right thing, God? I’m trying to.
She doesn’t belong in an orphanage. She belongs with me, her mother, but I need help, Lord.
” It was only through the generosity and friendship offered by the Cross family that she was even able to provide her child with a bed to sleep in and food to eat. She owed them everything and yet …
“He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in Him I will trust.”
She stood and walked into the middle of the meadow, bent down and plucked one of the small purple flowers that grew close to the ground. On a whim she tucked it into her hair over her ear. She’d save it for Eliza.
She paused, turning to search the trees surrounding her. “I’m trying to be strong, Lord, and to be of good courage, but I don’t know what to do. Please, show me the way. Tell me what I’m supposed to do. Guide me in the direction I should go.”
Nothing but the sound of the breeze through the tree branches answered. Warm tears filled her eyes as a surge of desperation rose within her.
“Please,” she murmured. She stood there for several minutes, waiting for something, she knew not what.
She needed to get back to the house, to ask Dalia to give her a list of chores to do today.
One of their boarders, Thomas, had left town for a day or two, or so Nathaniel had said at supper last night.
Millicent Evans was up in her room as usual, content to read or sit in a chair by the window, watching the goings on in town from her upstairs window.
Dalia had told her she had nothing for Chloe to do and had urged her to rest and relax, but she couldn’t, not with her mind filled with endless questions and worries.
If only she could— the hair on the back of her neck stood up on end and she stopped, the wisp of sound in the branches, the hum of a bee nearby trying to convince her that everything was as it should be, but when she turned around she knew he was there, and he was.
It just wasn’t who she’d been expecting.
He leaned against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, one boot tucked over the other as he watched her.
“Nathaniel!” she softly exclaimed, lifting her hand to her heart. “You startled me.”
He pushed himself off the tree and walked toward her. “Didn’t mean to. You look like you’re thinking on something pretty hard and I didn’t want to interrupt.”
She said nothing, her gaze passing over his handsome features, those riveting eyes of his that seemed not only to see a person, but also what was inside them.
She crossed her own arms over her chest, as if she could protect herself from that steady gaze.
She said nothing, waiting for him instead to lead.
He looked over her shoulder toward the far side of the meadow and grinned.
That small grin prompted an almost miraculous change to come over his face.
Her heart gave a thump and she tried to tell herself not to be attracted to him, not to feel anything toward him, but she couldn’t help it.
Oh how she wished that things were different!
His eyes twinkled as the grin morphed into a smile as he gestured with his chin.
“See that tree over there? That cottonwood with a fork and that empty space with a limb half gone to the left?”
She turned to look, searched a moment, and then found the tree of which he spoke.
“Yes.” She turned back to him, curious. “What about it?” He moved closer to her and stopped when he reached her side.
He smelled of hay and horse and grass and his freshly laundered shirt still carried a hint of the soap his mother used on washday.
She felt his heat and caught the hint of shaving soap he’d used this morning.
“I used to hide up in that tree, pretending I was an explorer, one of the first to see these parts,” he said softly.
He glanced down at her and winked. “I was about eight or thereabouts, and Lilly was always trying to follow me around. I used to sit up there and pretend she couldn’t see me hiding in the leaves. I’d be so still I barely breathed.”
Again she turned to the tree and then looked up at him, waiting for him to finish whatever it is he was trying to say. He turned to look down at her.
“But you know what? She always found me. She always seemed to know where I was and where I was hiding. Sometimes I would jump down and scare her. One time I had a slingshot, and I sent a couple of pebbles flying her way, landing around her feet.”
Chloe couldn’t help but smile. “What a mean big brother you were.”
He laughed softly. “Yes, I was at times. But I wanted my own place, my own private place that was just for me, and I didn’t want anyone knowing about it, especially Lilly.
” He turned away and looked back at the tree.
“That empty spot, there was a limb there, the one I used to sit on and hide. One day I came out here and it was gone, well not gone exactly, but it was lying near the base of the tree, a leafy branch.”
Chloe’s eyebrows rose. “What happened to it? Did it get struck by lightning?”
Nathaniel turned toward her and slowly shook his head. “It didn’t get struck by lightning, no. It got struck by Lillian.”
Chloe frowned. “What do you mean?”
Nathaniel nibbled at his lower lip for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he focused on that tree. “Believe it or not, she took an axe to it.”
Chloe couldn’t hold back a gasp. “Whatever for?”
“Because she said the family shouldn’t hide from each other, that when she wanted to be with me, she should be able to find me.
” He paused. “She didn’t cut it down because I was throwing sticks or lobbing pebbles at her feet.
” He turned to her again spoke softly. “She cut it down because when she couldn’t find me she got scared.
” He turned away and eyed the tree once more.
“She said I made her feel safe, no matter what we were doing or where we were.”
“You do,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she murmured. She heaved a sigh as she turned away from the tree and looked up at Nathaniel. “Did you get mad at her? Did she get punished?”
“No, and no,” he replied. “How could I get mad at her for her feelings or her fears? What did I know about little girls?” He glanced askance at her. “For that matter, what do I know about women?”
Before she could think of something to say, he continued.
“And as for punishment? For a few seconds I was mad, sure. She had taken away my perch, the place where I felt I was on top of the world, even though now, looking at it, I know it was barely eight feet off the ground. Still, it was supposed to be my place, my secret, but she knew about it all along and then when she finally got tired of me trying to keep her away, she cut off the branch.”
Chloe glanced at the tree, wondering how a little girl about the size of Eliza would’ve been able to climb up in that tree with an ax or a saw and chop off what had to have been a decent sized branch. She looked up at him again, but he wasn’t watching her.
She knew at that moment that he was trying to tell her something. She figured she knew what it was about, but she couldn’t say a word. Not now. Not yet. She just couldn’t. Her heart thumped and her stomach somersaulted when he turned to look at her, tucking his thumbs into his belt.
“I’m not trying to intimidate or threaten you, Chloe,” he said gently. “I hope you know that. But I wish you would tell me whatever it is that you’re holding back from me, from us. There’s something, I know that.”
She couldn’t look up at him. Her cheeks grew hot. She winced and pressed her lips together, forcing herself to remain still and quiet. To her dismay, he bent down, his hands on his thighs until his eyes were at a level of her own.
“Chloe, look at me.”
At first she wasn’t going to. She didn’t want to.
She was afraid too. He would see the truth in her eyes, she just knew it.
Yet it was as if his gaze compelled her to do so, and finally, reluctantly, she did look at him, into those eyes that seemed to see everything, and at the moment all she saw was concern. ”
“You can trust me,” he murmured. “I hope you know that.”
She wanted to. She remembered his hugs, the kiss they’d shared. She should be able to trust him but … she said nothing, neither nodded nor shook her head, just locked eyes with him. Oh, how she wished she could confess it all, everything about Everett and Silas.
About the terror she’d felt and how scared she’d been all those months and years running from the threat of either one of them finding her. Sick at heart for having to leave her child behind, her beloved Eliza, her child, her love …
Before she could say a word, he straightened, glancing around the meadow but not looking at her. “I just want you to know that whatever it is, it can’t be so terrible that you can’t trust me. I can help you if you let me.”
He said nothing for several moments while she stood there next to him, trying not to tremble, trying not to cry, and not to feel what she felt for this man even though she barely knew him.
She knew that the minute she did, everything would change. Everything. For Eliza’s sake, she couldn’t let that happen. She felt guilty and horrible and ashamed all at the same time, but she had to do it, for Eliza. She’d found her daughter and she was never going to let her go again.
She turned to him once more, trying to maintain an expression of calm even though she felt far from it. “It’s in my past, Nathaniel,” she said softly. “I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t.”
His gaze lingered for several moments, his head slightly tilted. “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”
Her jaw dropped and she quickly shook her head. “It’s … it’s not a matter of trust.” Didn’t he know? Did he realize how much she wanted to tell him everything, but she couldn’t! Perhaps if he had been any other man she would’ve been able to, but not him, not Nathaniel Cross.
Not about the man she’d married, the other who’d been her best friend, who had destroyed not only her life, but Nathaniel’s and that of his family. No, it wasn’t a matter of trust at all. It was fear, her fear, her despair, her not having anything solid in life to hold onto.
“Then what is it?”
She opened her mouth to speak, to try to explain in a way that he might understand, but then pressed her lips together and slowly shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“I … I can’t, Nathaniel, I’m sorry.”
With that she turned and ran across the meadow, praying that he wouldn’t follow and yet at the same time hoping that he would. She didn’t know what to do.
Her arms slapped at branches in front of her, clearing her path through the trees, but it took only moments for her to realize that he wasn’t following.
She slowed down, continued walking, no destination in mind, wandering this way and that through the undergrowth, wishing and praying that everything could be different.
Tears filled her eyes, tears of loss and sorrow and loneliness.
She sank down onto her knees, burying her face in her hands as she wept, feeling so alone in heart and spirit until she recalled a phrase from the book of Acts, spoken by the apostle Peter.
To Him all the prophets witness that, through His name, whoever believes in Him will receive remission of sins …
She wept for several more minutes, burdened by her secrets and her half-truths. “Can anyone forgive me for what I have done, Lord?” she wept aloud. “Can my daughter? Would Nathaniel and his family forgive me for my blindness in marrying Everett, the man who destroyed their lives? Do You?”
She heard nothing, only the gentle whisper of the breeze in the treetops, the chattering of a squirrel across the meadow and that of a woodpecker further along.
No, she was alone. Even so, she wished and prayed for strength, because the most important thing to her right now was to have this time with Eliza, to slowly build a relationship between them, hoping and praying that someday, her daughter might understand why Chloe had done what she had, and that it had all been done to protect her daughter from the wrath of an evil man.