Home Fires (10 page)

“Tell you what?” A cold shiver of fear touched her spine.

“That you’d slept with my brother."

All the air rushed out of her lungs. She took a deep breath before she could speak again.

“I wasn’t ever going to tell you. That was another lifetime. It has nothing to do with us now.”

“It has everything to do with us now! You lied to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you. Not once!”

“Call it a lie of omission then. Are you still in love with him?”

“No! I’m in love with you!”

He finally lifted his head, stark pain flashing across his face. “Am I supposed to believe that?”

“It’s the truth! I don’t think I ever really loved him. I know that now because of what I feel for you.” Tears streamed down her face. “Please, Erik, don’t do this to us.”

“I won’t stand in your way if you…if you want to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave!” Why wouldn’t he fight for her?

“It’s cold. Maybe you should go back to the house.”

“Erik, please. Can’t we talk about this?”

She stood silently for a moment, hoping he’d change his mind. But he ignored her, dismissing her from his thoughts as easily as he dismissed their marriage.

She closed her eyes to block out the pain, to no avail. With a heavy heart, she slid open the barn door and trudged back to the house.

****

Erik lay beside Anne in their bed, staring at the ceiling. She was turned away from him, though from her breathing he could tell she couldn’t sleep either. It had been the same all week, each of them on their own side of the bed, not talking, not touching. He ached to reach for her, to hold her and make love to her.

But he wouldn’t force himself on her if she didn’t want him.

Anne was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Now Anders had ruined everything. With Anne, Erik had felt like the luckiest man in the world, but since his brother’s visit, every time he closed his eyes he saw the two of them together, making love. Would those images ever fade?

He couldn’t make her stay, any more than he could make her love him, no matter what she said. For one bright, shining moment he’d thought they had something special. But now he was resigned to letting her go.

****

Anne rubbed her hands together nervously before sliding open the barn door. She’d tried to talk to him in the past week, but he’d avoided her by coming out to the barn. Every time she’d tried to touch him, he turned away as if she disgusted him. Lying beside him every night without being in his arms was the worst.

Today she would make one last try. But she was coming to the painful realization he would never forgive her. Even if his anger cooled, could they recapture the closeness they’d so briefly shared? How could they make a future together if he couldn’t let go of the past?

Anne took a deep breath and opened the door. He was forking straw into the stalls as bedding for the cattle. He looked as tired as she felt.

He stopped his work as she closed the barn door. Anne turned to face him, her heart hammering.

“I wrote to Anders because I couldn’t stand to be the reason you won’t speak to your brother. Anders is married to Signe. I don’t want to be with him at all.”

Erik said nothing. Anne took a deep breath. “I love you, Erik.”

He turned away as if her words caused him pain. “I know I’m your second choice, that I’ll always be second best in your eyes. I know I have little to offer you. You’re free to go. I won’t stop you.”

Anne felt her world crashing down around her. She’d wanted him to tell her he loved her too, that he wanted her to stay with him forever. She’d thought there was something wonderful between them, but she’d been wrong. Erik didn’t love her. There was nothing left for her here. She opened the door and slipped back out into the cold.

Chapter Twelve

Ingrid handed Anne her train ticket. When it had become painfully clear her marriage was over, she’d asked her sister-in-law to make arrangements for her departure. “You’re all set. I’ll take you to the Bjornsons’ in the sleigh, and Carl will drive you into Emerald in time to catch the 4:15 into Prince Albert. From the train station you can take a streetcar to a boarding house. The lady from the Red Cross said a room has been reserved for you. She’ll be in contact about arranging your passage to England.” Ingrid paused and took Anne’s hand. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“No, I don’t want to do this at all. I want to stay here with you and Astrid. I want Erik to love me.” She closed her eyes. If she spoke about it, thought about it, the tears would start again. She’d already cried enough tears to fill the North Saskatchewan River. No more. “This is what I have to do.”

Ingrid nodded, blinking back her own tears. “Yes, I understand. I’d like to knock some sense into my pig-headed brother.”

“Please, don’t blame him. He can’t help how he feels. Try to help him. He’s going to need you—”

She couldn’t go on. She dissolved in tears. Ingrid pulled her into her arms.

“I’ll look after him. I promise.”

Anne grudgingly pushed away from Ingrid. She couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.

“I guess we should be going.”

Ingrid nodded sadly. “As soon as you say goodbye to Ma.”

Astrid.
Anne closed her eyes in pain. How could she ever say goodbye to the woman who had shown her so much love and kindness, and treated her like a daughter?

Anne hefted her suitcase from the bed and trudged down the stairs behind Ingrid. Astrid was waiting for them in the kitchen.

“I don’t know how to say goodbye,” she said. “So I’ll just say, ‘See you later.’ ”

“Thank you for everything,” Anne said through her tears. She went into Astrid’s open arms and took comfort there, at least for a few moments.

“We should go,” Ingrid said.

Reluctantly, Anne disengaged herself from Astrid’s arms. “See you later.”

Astrid smiled through her tears. “You’ll never be far from my thoughts.”

“Nor you from mine.” She handed her an envelope. “Would you give this to Erik, after…after I leave?”

“Of course,” Astrid said sadly.

Anne slipped on her winter jacket, tugged a knitted hat over her ears, and wrapped a scarf around her neck for the ride to the Bjornsons. She followed Ingrid outside, where the horses were already hitched to the sleigh, ready to go. She climbed inside and looked around the farmstead, to the old house desperately needing a coat of paint and the hedge that surrounded it, now covered in snow. And then she turned to look toward the barn. Was Erik watching her? Was he hurting as much as she was?

“Goodbye,” she whispered.

****

Erik watched from the barn as the sleigh left the yard. His heart went with it. She was gone. He couldn’t believe she was gone.

He headed to the house, trudging his way through the snow and not caring that the wind blew through his open jacket. His mother met him at the door.

“You’re a damn fool, Erik Gustafson,” she said through her tears. “That girl loved you. Any fool could see that. And you threw it away. For what? For your stupid pride?”

“Ma—”

She held up her hand. “I’m not finished. Anne told me you were angry because you found out she’d slept with Anders. I’m going to tell you a story, a story I should have told you a long time ago.”

“Ma, I’m really not in the mood for a lecture.”

She lifted her chin. “Sit down, Erik.”

Erik sighed. There was no point arguing with her. He sat on one of the kitchen chairs and waited. Astrid fiddled with her apron, stalling.

“This isn’t easy for me.” She took a deep breath. “When I was seventeen, I fell in love with a very handsome boy from a neighboring farm. He was three years older than I was, and when war was declared in 1914 he enlisted right away. He wanted adventure and glory.” She stopped and wiped her eyes with her hanky. “Before he was to be shipped to Europe, he came home for a two-week furlough. We met every day. And then suddenly the two weeks were over, and he was sent to the front lines in France. Three months later we heard he’d been killed in the trenches. A month after that, I found out I was going to have you.”

Erik stared at her. “But my father—”

“Your father died in the Great War. The man I married was your father’s brother. When the families found out I was pregnant, a decision was made that I should marry the younger son, Ingmar, who was the same age as I was. He was angry to be thrown into marriage at such a young age, especially to a girl pregnant with another man’s child. Eventually, he got past his anger and we had two more children. But Ingmar was never able to treat you as his own son, as much as I begged him to. Whenever he looked at you he saw Nils. He never forgot that I had loved his brother first. And Ingmar never believed that I loved him best.”

Erik couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Finally, all the times his father had openly favored Anders over him made sense. Anders wasn’t to blame. No one was.

“Why didn’t you tell me this years ago?”

“I should have,” she said, “but I couldn’t say anything while Ingmar was alive. After he died, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m sorry, Erik, for being so weak.”

Erik got to his feet and enveloped her in his arms. “Anders and Ingrid should know. Promise me you’ll tell them.”

“Yes, I promise. There have been too many secrets in this family.”

She pulled out of his arms and went to the cupboard, returning to him with an envelope.

“Anne left this for you.”

Erik stared at the sealed envelope in his hand, his name written in neat script on the front. His hands shook as he lifted the flap.

My darling Erik,

By the time you read this I’ll have left the farm. The farm and all the people living here have become very dear to me. I’ll miss this place as long as I live.

I planned to include your grandmother’s necklace with this letter, but I couldn’t make myself take it off. Please forgive me. It’s all I have left of you. Someday, when it doesn’t hurt so much to part with it, I promise to return it.

I know you don’t believe me, but I love you. I’ll always love you. I want only happiness for you. Please don’t close your heart to love.

When I get settled, I’ll send you my address so that when you start divorce proceedings you can find me. I’ll cooperate in any way you want me to.

Goodbye, my darling.

Anne

Erik read and then reread the letter.
She loved him
. Why hadn’t he let himself believe it? Was he doomed to repeat the mistakes of his father—his uncle—and never believe in the love that was staring him right in the face?

He couldn’t let her go. He loved her. Whatever happened in the past didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was the present—and his future with Anne.

Anne. Dear God, what have I done?

“Ma, I don’t want to lose her. I’ve made such a huge mistake. What do I do?”

Astrid glanced out the window. “There’s Ingrid returning with the sleigh. Maybe Carl Bjornson hasn’t taken her to the train yet.”

Erik pushed his boots back on his feet and hurried outside as quickly as he could, ignoring the stabbing pain in his leg.

“Ingrid, wait! Don’t unhitch the team.”

She stopped on her way to the barn. “Why? Where are you going?”

“To the Bjornsons’. I have to stop Anne from leaving.”

Ingrid’s face lit with excitement. “She’s not there! She and Carl left for town before I started for home. He had some business to take care of and had to get there a little earlier. You’ll have to go to the train station in town.”

“What time does Anne’s train leave Emerald?”

“At four-fifteen. If you hurry, you should make it.” She pushed him toward the sleigh. “Go!”

Erik climbed into the sleigh, and Ingrid handed him the reins. He turned the horses around and headed out of the yard. Ingrid ran alongside for a few yards.

“Good luck!” she called.

He waved and urged the horses faster, praying he’d make it before the train left, taking the shortest route he knew. Once the sleigh nearly upset when he took a hill at too steep an angle. He nearly cried in relief when he saw the train still sitting on the track in front of the station.

He left the horses at the side of the building and hurried to the platform, frantically searching for Anne. She was nowhere in sight. He checked inside the train station.

Still no sign of her.

She had to be on the train. With his bad leg, there’d be no way he could quickly check each car. There was only one thing he could do.

“Anne!” he shouted. “Anne Gustafson. Are you on the train?”

People stared at him, but he didn’t care. “Anne! Please come home with me!”

Still nothing.

He was losing hope.

“Anne Gustafson, I love you!”

A short distance down the platform, Anne emerged from the train. She stood facing him a moment before taking a few steps toward him.

Erik’s heart sang when she broke into a run. A moment later she was in his arms.

“Anne, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me,” he said against her hair. “I’ve been such a fool. I don’t want you to go. Please don’t go.”

“I don’t want to go. I don’t ever want to leave you. I love you.”

Erik tasted the saltiness of her tears as he kissed her.

“I love you too.” He took her hand. “Let’s go home.”

She smiled, tears shining in her eyes. “Yes, let’s go home. There’s nowhere else I want to be.”

Erik smiled at his beautiful wife, realizing for the first time he was the one she wanted.

Forever.

Jana Richards has tried her hand at many writing projects over the years, from magazine articles and short stories to full-length paranormal suspense and romantic comedy. She loves to create characters with a sense of humor, but also a serious side. She believes there’s nothing more interesting then peeling back the layers of a character to see what makes them tick.

When not writing up a storm, working at her day job as an office administrator, or dealing with ever-present mountains of laundry, Jana can be found on the local golf course pursuing her newest hobby.