A Love Undone (21 page)

Shivering, Jolene drove past her home and toward the bridge where her parents’ rig had been washed into the swollen waters. Rain spattered against her windshield as the horse’s hoofs beat a steady rhythm against the pavement. She rarely came this way, and when she did need to cross this bridge, she never slowed or looked. Instead, she cringed and kept her eyes straight ahead, rushing the horse and carriage across the bridge as if she could outrun the memory—or the aftermath—of the loss.

But this time she pulled onto the shoulder of the road and got out.

Trace widower
. Was that a real term or only something her Mamm said? Mamm named most things, even if she had to come up with the word herself. Why hadn’t that dawned on Jolene before now?

Wrapping her arms around herself, she crossed the road. What was she doing? She was soaked and cold and upset. But she couldn’t make herself turn around and go home.

Green grass and shrubs led to the river, and she eased toward the bank, stopping several feet back. Thunder rumbled in the distance as gray clouds ambled across the vast sky. Muddy water swirled and tumbled as it went by. Some of it pooled in little recesses before breaking free to race downriver.

The muscles along her ribs shook like a dog caught outside in midwinter. It hurt for her insides to quake like this.

Some winters this river froze solid, and brave folks ice-skated on it. During droughts it became little more than a babbling brook, and treasure hunters would walk along the dry bed searching for Indian artifacts or more modern items the river had stolen. Even when there was barely a trickle of water, the river still sustained all sorts of wild creatures and somewhere along its journey maybe cattle too. When hard rains came, it flooded its banks, sweeping away anything in its path. From season to season it could change drastically. It could steal, give, play, or fight—all the while never pausing to observe the havoc or joy it caused.

Was much of life like this river, a slave to its environment? Was life sweeping her along as the river had swept away her parents?

Longing to understand churned inside her. Of all the men she’d come in contact with—men offering marriage proposals, singles looking for wives—why did Andy have to be the only one since Van who’d actually mattered?

Something possessed her to move in closer, perhaps the need to feel anew what it meant to lose a part of one’s self. If she grew any closer to Andy, she would indeed lose a part of herself. But what would she lose if she stayed away?

As she skirted shrubs and brambles, her dress caught on briars. Pulling free, she ripped the cloth. She wanted to move close enough to the bank that the toes of her shoes would be just shy of the edge, but she couldn’t make herself get within a yard of where the bluff was cut as if a child had taken a spoon to the rim of a three-layer cake.

Jolene’s breathing came in short spurts, and her legs shook like a newborn foal.

Andy’s words ran through her mind.
It was a mistake to marry her
.

How many times would she be left with the ramshackle pieces of simple miscalculations? Her parents had misjudged the weather, leaving her to raise her siblings. Andy had misjudged Eva, and now he was imprisoned. She’d misjudged Van’s motives and spent years wrangling with anger. She lifted her face toward heaven, feeling the pinpricks of the cold rain. “Since I was a teen, I’ve tried to do what I thought was right. Look in my heart, and if I’ve failed to try, if my soul deceives me, tell me.”

But she heard nothing save the imagined screams of her mother before she drowned. Or was Jolene hearing her own screams as she sensed she was drowning? Her prayer brought no warmth of encouragement this time, only the ache of hopes dashed. “He’s married?” That same question kept rising within her even as the answer pounded loudly. Andy was bound by God’s law.

Was that really what God meant when he said he hated divorce? Was it a decree to bind a man and woman together no matter what one of them did? Didn’t God have compassion on Adam and say it wasn’t good for him to be alone? Wasn’t Andy alone?

Was all of life as fluid and changeable as the river—parents died, fiancés married someone else, children went from normal to challenged, finances became difficult, bodies changed from fertile to infertile in the blink of an eye—but God remained unyielding?

Didn’t men of old have many wives and concubines? It proved to be unwise, hardening their hearts in their quest to walk with God,
but did that mean all of mankind could have only one spouse until death, no exceptions? She lifted her eyes to heaven again. “Where is Your mercy or grace in that, Father?” Jolene’s insides only shook harder as she questioned the very things about God and marriage that she’d once believed with all her heart.

“Jolene!” Naomi ran toward her, holding a blanket over her head. Without pausing, she pushed past the briars, grabbed Jolene’s hand, and pulled her farther from the river. Did Naomi struggle with a fear of this river too? “What are you doing?” Naomi wrapped the blanket around Jolene’s shoulders and engulfed her in a hug. “We had gone into the next valley for a bit and were on our way to your house when we saw your rig by the bridge.” She held her tightly. “When we saw it was empty and couldn’t spot you …” Naomi backed up enough to see her face. “You frightened us!” She turned toward the road. “Willis! Michael! Anna! Over here!”

Obviously
we
included their brother Michael, his wife, and Naomi’s husband.

Naomi squeezed her shoulders. “After you came by asking about money, we were a bit worried. Now you’re walking along the riverbank. This isn’t at all like you. What’s going on?”

Jolene shrugged and turned to face the water. All of her pain and questions seemed to swirl and churn inside her like the river, threatening to sweep away a part of her. She longed to break down the walls that kept her from sharing her heart not only about Andy but also about her love of artwork and paintings—from the great artists to her own amateur work. Wasn’t opening up and being real what love was all about? Didn’t people search for someone who would include and accept them no matter what?

But she couldn’t make herself share her disappointment about Andy, let alone anything else. As she stood in the rain staring at the river, Jolene realized how little of herself she shared with loved ones. She’d closed up when the need to be a pillar of strength became nonstop. After Van left, she no longer had anyone she could open up to. Her siblings knew of her love and faithfulness to them and to God, but she had to keep parts of herself locked away like her artwork.

Sharing some of her real self with Andy had come as naturally as wanting to paint. Before today she’d stood on the threshold of opening all of her heart to him. But now … “It’s been a Jonah day, that’s all.”

Naomi’s eyes sparked with humor. “You’re certainly wet enough to have been thrown overboard or swallowed by a whale.” She embraced her again.

Naomi’s husband and Michael hurried to them. Anna moved across the wet grass much more cautiously.

“Jolene’s fine,” Naomi assured them. “She needed time to reflect.”

Willis skidded on the wet grass as he came to a stop. Of the numerous men interested in Naomi when she was single, he had not been the most handsome or the one with the best-paying job. Nonetheless, he alone had stolen her sister’s heart. Willis steadied himself. “Is this connected to why you needed money?”

The man was generous to a fault. When Jolene said she needed money without explaining why, he offered to sell his home, saying they could live in someone’s carriage house or move in with her. Maybe tucking away the forbidden parts of who she was helped
anchor her siblings’ faith in the truly important aspects of life—God and family.

Despite feeling muddled and scattered, Jolene found a few words. “No. That has to do with Ray, and we’ll discuss it later.”

Naomi put her arm around Jolene’s shoulders. “Josiah and Ruth are on their way to your house too. We wanted to celebrate your much-needed day off with a fun gathering, and we have some good news. We’re all bringing food and games and …”

The whole family getting together on the spur of the moment wasn’t unusual, and her siblings liked surprising her with a fun piece of news—a ten-cent-an-hour pay raise, a new-to-them horse or carriage, a better hand-cranked ice-cream maker purchased at a yard sale. It didn’t take much for them to celebrate with food and games. As a sister-parent, she knew their minds and hearts, but who knew hers? Van had. But that had been long ago.

“Oh,”—Naomi ducked her head, making eye contact—“and Josiah invited Glen. He believes Glen is your best chance of marriage.”

Why were her siblings suddenly matchmaking? And how did Josiah know that if she wanted to marry, Glen was the man to consider?

“You don’t like the idea of Glen coming, do you?” Naomi asked.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Seems a little odd that you guys invited him without asking me. This is a first.”

“You’ve been gone a lot, and it’s been on Josiah’s mind. Now that two more of us married this past year, we’re ready to push you a little to start considering possible beaus.”

Their good intentions were undeniable, and she stood a little straighter. “The best part of tonight is that all of you will be there.”
Being surrounded by her family brought a special encouragement, one that renewed her hope. But it wouldn’t wash away the ache of loneliness this time. Today had thrown the truth in her face—she was locked in an attic.

Was Glen the answer?

Michael frowned. “I don’t like that look in your eyes. You’re scaring me, Jolene. Are you … ill, something serious you’re afraid to tell us?”

Chiding herself for the pity party she’d been having, she silently asked God for forgiveness. “Not at all. Just wallowing in disappointment rather than remembering all the wonderful times God’s given.” She looped her arm through Naomi’s. “What is this good news?”

Michael grinned, holding out his hand for his wife. Anna slid her hand into his.

Their news dawned on her, and a smile spread across Jolene’s heart. “Congratulations!” She hugged each of them. “When?”

“Around Thanksgiving.” He grinned, and Jolene was pretty sure Anna might have to sew the buttons back on his shirt if his excitement kept swelling his chest.

After hugging Michael and Anna again, she insisted they head for the rigs and get out of the rain.

As they began the trek back, Naomi stopped. “There is more.”

“More?”

Naomi patted her flat stomach. “Around New Year’s.”

Jolene laughed and hugged her sister. This was exciting, a day she’d believed in and prayed for since her brothers and sisters became her children. Still, thoughts of Andy cinched her heart. He would
understand the euphoric intensity of this wonderful news … and the sense of isolation and melancholy that came with it.

But she had to put dreams of Andy Fisher behind her. That thought caused an odd tingling in her chest. Was she thinking about the situation wrong? She had to give up all hope of their being a couple. Allowing herself to imagine what it would be like to hold his hand or kiss him was off-limits. She knew that, but …

Would it really be against God’s will for her to continue helping at Lester’s until Andy no longer needed her?

After Jolene left, Andy took off walking, needing to collect himself. Now, soaked and hungry, he reentered his uncle’s yard. Van’s rig was still in Lester’s driveway, and through the dining room window, he could see Van, Lester, and Tobias at the table eating. Andy went into the phone shanty.

He was sorry he’d come here. Hadn’t Jolene experienced more than enough pain and disappointment in life without this happening? And embarrassment. How ridiculous that Van was there to hear everything.

He dialed his home number and waited while it rang.

Long ago he’d buried all hopes of having a fulfilling relationship with a woman. Not only was he in an impossible situation he couldn’t get free of, but he’d been unable to imagine loving a woman enough to want to marry again. Years ago whenever a sprig of hope about good romantic relationships tried to take root, he shoveled dirt and moved boulders onto it until that dream was buried and his hands were callused and unfeeling. In his circumstances the action served him well.