Cedar Creek Seasons (28 page)

She leaned forward and stared into rheumy green eyes.

“Mrs. Griffith?”

The lady squeaked a laugh. “‘Tis me, darling girl. Still among the living.”

“Oh my word,” Claire giggled, instantly transported to girlhood. “It’s wonderful to see you.” She gently hugged the woman then held her at arm’s length. “And I owe you a mountain of apologies for not paying attention during home economics class.”

Mrs. Griffith waved a hand, a sweet, flowery scent wafting through the air. “Dear, you were a saint compared to many I taught in thirty years.” She tapped gnarled fingers against Claire’s cheek then pointed at Eli. “I want you to know something important. Your father was wrong to keep the two of you apart.”

The statement took Claire’s breath away. She darted a glance at Eli in a conversation with the pastor.

“He always regretted what he did, you know.” Mrs. Griffith leaned against her cane.

Claire’s face froze.

“Your mother and I talked a good bit about the situation.” She wheezed a cough against a lacy handkerchief and peeked at Eli. “Maybe the Lord’s giving you a second chance.” Her painted-pink lips curved up, and she winked. “I’m listed in the phone book, Claire, if you ever want to chat.” She slowly made her way up the aisle.

Her father had regrets? Well, he’d never shown her that side of his nature. An ember of rage against his controlling ways began to burn in her belly.

“You ready for lunch?” Eli said.

She gulped and started to speak then nodded. Tears stung the back of her nose.

You have a choice. Give in to the anger or give it up
.

With a glance at the stained-glass window, Jesus the Shepherd, Claire knew she’d give it up. The Lord would help her.

“Yes, Eli, I’m ready for lunch.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and walked alongside him out the door.

E
li followed Claire and the hostess between tables at the Anvil Pub & Grill. The historic building in the Settlement Shops complex echoed with the sounds of Sunday afternoon customers. Mouth-watering aromas filled the air.

The young woman led them upstairs and motioned to a table. Eli shook his head and pointed to one in the far corner. She scooted that direction, placed menus on the table, and returned with glasses of water. “Enjoy your lunch.”

Claire sat and sighed. “Smells wonderful. And I’m starving.” She scanned the page before her.

Eli forced his gaze from her face and looked at the menu trembling in his hands as though he didn’t already know he wanted the Philly cheesesteak.

Claire’s delicate hands traced the page. “What’s best?” She smiled. His heart hammered in his chest.

“Everything’s delicious.” Did his voice squeak? He cleared his throat. “Think I’ll settle for the cheesesteak.” He set the menu to one side. They should definitely eat before a serious discussion. Maybe talk about the weather?

“Sounds wonderful. Think I’ll have the same.” She unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap. “Has the summer been nice so far? It’s been warm in Indy.”

Eli almost laughed out loud. He laid his arm on the table. “Cedarburg’s been very pleasant.” He tapped his fingers then stopped.
Mueller. Calm down
.

Claire sipped her water. “How many shops are in the Settlement? I was so busy during the Strawberry Festival, I was afraid I’d miss out on them.” She toyed with the knife and fork. “Melissa asked if we could stay for a few days, so now I’m sure there will be ample time.”

“How many days?”

Claire glanced up. “Until Saturday.”

Eli drew in a breath, his heart hammering. “At the inn?”

“No. Sylvia has a very large home on the lake and has invited us to stay. Not far away.” Claire leaned back. “Seems awkward to visit someone I don’t know, but Melissa was so excited. And I seldom say no to my niece.” She shook her head. “I know I spoil her, but she and her brother are my only—”

Children. She’d been about to say children. A pang of loneliness rattled through Eli’s middle. He’d missed out, too.
So much to say, Lord
.

“Hello, folks.” A perky waitress stepped beside their table and smiled. “I’m Alyce, and I’ll be your server.” She tugged a pad from her apron.

Claire nodded.

Alyce said, “Have you decided?”

Eli ordered two cheesesteaks and settled in for the conversation he’d avoided for decades.

Claire’s first bite of the delicious sandwich melted in her mouth. Tender meat, tangy cheese, fresh bread. But swallowing as she sat with Eli was proving difficult. Stilted conversation, a knot in her stomach, the desire to run, too many ongoing battles to allow easy dining.

Eli swiped his napkin across his mouth. “Great, isn’t it?”

“Mr. Mueller, how is everything?” The waitress interrupted their meal again.

“Fine, Alyce.”

Claire sipped from the glass the girl had filled moments before and nodded.

He lifted his sandwich. “My favorite restaurant.” He’d mentioned that before.

She watched his gaze shift around the room, his jaw twitch.
He’s as nervous as I am
.

The realization pulsed through her, and Claire relaxed. Suddenly she was starving and glad for the meat-laden sandwich.

Alyce had buzzed about their table, as welcome as a headache. “Are you ready for dessert?”

Eli frowned. “Alyce, I think we need to finish our meal first.” She blushed. “Sorry.”

Claire bit her lip.

“As I live and breathe, Mueller’s trying to steal my girl.”

A shiver ran through Claire, and she watched Eli’s face tighten. She turned toward the voice and forced a smile. “Good afternoon, George.”

He puffed his way to the table and dropped a wet kiss on her hand. Claire jerked away and resisted the urge to wipe it against her leg.

“Been hoping to see you again. You staying for Friday’s dance, aren’t you?” Perspiration dribbled alongside his nose.

Claire shook her head. “I doubt I’ll dance anytime soon, George.” She shifted in her seat.

“Don’t be too hasty, Miss Wagner.”

Eli frowned. “It’s Mrs. Parsons,” he said, his tone icy. “And you’re interrupting our lunch.”

George held up his palms. “Okay, Mueller. Round one goes to you.” He snorted. “See you soon, Claire.”

She lifted the water glass in a mock salute at his retreating form. Not if she could help it.

“Need a dessert menu, Mr. Mueller?”

Eli heaved a sigh. “Alyce, what we really need is a few minutes to quietly enjoy lunch.” The girl flushed, turned, and darted away.

He grunted and tossed his napkin on the table. “I’ll leave her a good tip.” He lowered his gaze and swirled the knife beside his plate. “Claire, I’d like to ask you a question.” His eyes roved her face. “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”

C
laire stared at him. “Letters?”

Eli caught her hand. “I wrote you every week for months while I was in Vietnam.” He squeezed her fingers. “I tried to explain—”

A sharp V formed between her brows. “You wrote me?” Disbelief flashed in her eyes.

He dropped her hand and straightened. “I did.” Color drained from her face, and her lips pulled tight. She took a shaky breath. “Eli, I never received any letters.”

He couldn’t move. She didn’t know. Really didn’t know. A rumble of panic laced with something he couldn’t explain raced through him. Hope?

Alyce darted beside the table and dropped the check. “Thanks for coming.”

“Let’s go.” Eli fumbled for his wallet, tossed a few bills on the table, and followed Claire downstairs. She reached for the railing beside the creek. A brown dog dashed around a teenager across the way. He stepped closer. “Remember Sadie chasing after sticks we’d throw?” He cleared his throat. “Sweet dog.”

“Raised three generations of Labs from your gift.” Her voice was husky. She placed one hand on his arm. Tears hung on the edges of her lashes. “Tell me.”

Eli tucked her arm in the crook of his. “We’ll talk in the park.”

Claire gave a jerky nod.

Tourists still streamed up and down the sidewalk, but her presence was all he noted.
She’d never known
. A fierce protectiveness welled in his chest. Her father—

They entered the park and found an empty picnic table. She squeezed his arm for a second before they sat.

“Now tell me,” she whispered.

Where to begin?
“Claire, you said you couldn’t understand how anyone could fight in a war.”

“But Eli, I didn’t—” Her eyes studied him, a flash of uncertainty on her face. “I wanted to honor my father.”

“The promise ring I gave you? I wanted it to be more.” He sighed. “I saw your father the afternoon after graduation.” He swept a hand over his eyes to wipe away the vision of an angry Henry Wagner. “I told him I wanted to marry you, and he told me to stay away.”

She gasped and stilled.

Eli inched closer. Unshed tears made her eyes look darker. His beautiful Claire. “He told me … He said my decision to fight in an unnecessary war made me an unworthy choice for his daughter.” He struggled for words. “Your father wasn’t the only conscientious objector at the time. Even if he didn’t respect my position, I had to respect his decision.” He picked up her hand. “I sent the daisies with a card, telling you to meet me at the bridge. So I could ask you to wait.” He shrugged. “Thought your father might change his mind.”

She shook her head. “Mother gave me the flowers. But no card.” Her voice rasped the final words as if pushing them from her throat was painful.

“When you didn’t show, I didn’t know what to think.” He paused, his eyes studying her. “I called and your father answered.”

She gulped and whispered, “You called?”

He nodded, his thumb tracing circles on her hand. “Then I wrote. Every week for months, I wrote and hoped.” He gazed into her eyes. “And when I came home, you were gone.” He placed her hand on the table. “But I’m not sure I ever gave up hope.”

Claire touched two fingers to her lips. “Oh, Eli. If only I’d known.” She sat back.

“Now you do.”

An ache began under her breastbone. Claire stared into Eli’s eyes. He intertwined his fingers with hers. “I came home with so much anger at God over so many things.” The muscles in his jaws worked. “It took time and a great deal of prayer, but I’ve been refined, Claire. Like silver. I try to remember Zechariah 13:9: ‘
I will refine them like silver and test them like gold
.’” He gently stroked her cheek. “God put me through the fires, and so much dross had to be skimmed away.” He propped his chin on his hand. “But there’s another part of that verse. ‘
They will call on my name and I will answer them
.’” His lips curled up. “I’ve learned to do just that. I call, He answers.” He laughed that contagious laugh she’d loved. “Look, you’re back in Cedarburg.”

“Oh, Eli.” A knife of sorrow cut through her middle. “I’m so sorry.”

“No need for apologies, Claire.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“After all this time.” She sniffled. “I’m truly sorry about the letters, the past. I—I didn’t know.” The wave of fury at her father crested, and she tamped it down. She’d deal with those thoughts later. Now she understood what Mrs. Griffith meant—her father had regrets. Didn’t they all?

Eli leaned forward and brushed his lips across her forehead. Goose bumps ran up her arms. “Oh, Eli,” she whispered, her throat tight.

“It’s okay.” His fingers trailed down her cheek.

She grasped his hand and ran her fingers across calluses on his palm.

He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes then lowered his head and kissed her. A wave of memories washed through her at the flavor of his lips.

He pulled away. “Waited a long time for that,” he said, his voice husky.

Me, too
.

“What have we here?”

Claire flinched. George could not, would not, ruin this moment. She whirled about and faced the rotund pest, her lips pressed together.

“Seems you two have been catching up.” He smirked and snorted.

“Schiller,” Eli snarled.

“George.” Claire stood and crossed her arms. “I never had the chance to refuse your dance offer.” She placed a hand on Eli’s arm. “This is the only dance partner I’ve ever wanted.” She extended her hand to the befuddled man. He gripped her fingers, and she shook his hand. “Glad to have seen you again.” She thrust his hand away. “Good-bye.”