Deborah turned the reins over to one of her brothers when they reached home. She watched Pa and Nathaniel in the open buggy. What had they talked about?
All these weeks he would only smile at her, never saying anything. He either didn’t like her at all or thought she didn’t like him, or he was trying to avoid giving offense. Most likely he didn’t like her because of how she’d treated him while he was at the Coffins’. Every time she remembered her harsh words and cruel thoughts toward him, she felt pricked in the heart and prayed about it again.
If she’d given offense, she needed to make it right, one of the most difficult things she had to do as a Christian. Perhaps asking Nathaniel’s forgiveness would give her peace.
After he’d helped Pa and the boys with the horses, Nathaniel limped into the house, the last to enter, and said hello to her mother. He turned to Pa. “I didn’t see the mare. Is she out on pasture?”
“Down by the creek, most likely.”
Nathaniel looked over his shoulder. “Very far?”
Deborah resisted the urge to speak up and tell him where to find the mare. If they walked out there together, she might have a moment to apologize to him for her conduct earlier. “I can guess where she would be. After dinner we can look for her.”
During the meal Deborah hardly tasted the corn dodgers Mama served. Nathaniel talked and laughed with her family as though he’d known them for years, but he barely talked to her. What if she was right and Nathaniel had been offended all these weeks? After the meal she hurried up into the loft of the double log cabin and changed into her old homespun dress and apron.
Nathaniel waited for her on the back porch. “I hope it’s not too far.”
“No, it will be a pleasant walk.” She led the way to the gate. Nathaniel dropped the rails and put them back.
At the edge of the woods, redbud trees looked like pink clouds. The dogwoods’ white blossoms glowed in the woods, and the dark shapes of the horses and cows were visible at the end of the green pasture.
Despite the soft blue sky and warm air, Deborah shivered, gathering her nerve before speaking. “Nathaniel Fox, I have something to say to thee.”
His deep voice was soothing. “I’m glad. It’s been a long time since we talked.” He turned and gave her a hand as they picked a path around mud puddles. His hand was warm and his arm solid.
She took a deep breath and held it. Admitting to doing wrong wasn’t easy. “About that—if I did anything to offend thee, with harsh words or how I acted toward thee when thee first came here…”
He stopped and studied her for a moment then smiled wryly. “Harsh? I think you were justified. Somewhat. Although there were times when you looked at me like I was pond scum.”
She burst out laughing then gazed up into his eyes, sky blue in the spring sunshine. She had to be as direct as possible. What was she going to say? “But still—”
He put his finger over her lips. His sudden warm touch almost stopped her heart, but then it started to race. “You have done nothing to offend me.”
“Thee has said nothing to me for weeks.”
He looked down and started worrying a clump of grass with his boot toe. “I shouldn’t speak to you. It would make you look bad, harm your reputation. People would talk.”
“I have my integrity.” She held out her hand and sighed. “Let’s go look at the horses.” Once she told him the worst of it, he might never forgive her. She hated to risk that. Her thoughts toward him startled her again. If he never forgave her, they’d have no future. She’d allowed herself to imagine too much, that this tall, handsome man who also liked horses and farming would grow into a solid Christian, diligent in business, sober in character—someone worth marrying once he rejoined the Society.
They walked a little farther. The long grass hid stumps and roots left from when Pa and the boys had cleared the field years ago. Deborah tripped and Nathaniel caught her. Both stumbled for their balance and held each other up.
She looked up into his ruddy face. His countenance had changed so much over the past several weeks. How could she have ever thought such cruel thoughts about him? “Nathaniel, there is more I need to confess.”
He closed his eyes as though bracing for bad news. “Tell me, then.”
“When Pa first brought thee to the Coffins, I—” She had to take another breath to steady her nerves. “I wondered if drowning was the Lord’s judgment on thee for thy wicked ways.”
He breathed deeply, let it out, and then smiled.
“Nathaniel, why is thee smiling?”
“I feared worse news.”
She shook her head. “What could be any worse?”
“That you planned to marry someone else.”
Deborah blinked in surprise. “Marry someone? There’s no one—” She cleared her throat. Her face warmed, clear up to the roots of her hair. Where did that idea come from? “Nathaniel, I wished the worst that could befall thee.”
He looked down and nodded. “I’m not surprised at all. Nor offended. Tell me you haven’t worried about that all this time.”
“I have.”
He took her hands. “Oh Deborah Wall, the Bible says if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature. But also you need to forget what lies behind.”
Her voice trembled. “I was so harsh. Almost treated thee like—like—”
He kept her hands. “Like someone of the world? For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. You know that, as well as I do, birthright Friend or not.”
She looked down and shook her head. Her voice cracked, and she paused to get it under control. “I never thought I’d act it out like that, Nathaniel.”
“I never thought I’d do half the things I ended up doing either. And I was a birthright Friend, too.” He held her hands then drew her after him. “We’re supposed to look ahead, aren’t we? I have a lot to forget, and I suppose you have an item or two you’d like to rarely recall.”
She nodded. “Thee’s right. Let’s find the horses.”
They reached the swale where a streamlet trickled toward Willow Creek. The cows were lying down chewing their cud as Deborah and Nathaniel walked up.
Two of the horses looked up then returned to grazing. The mare was missing. Deborah took a few steps farther. “I suppose, if she’s off by herself, she might be foaling now.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Any ideas where she might have gone?”
“There’s a little clearing back here.” She led him to the edge of the woods, along a muddy trail chopped with hoofprints. She glanced over her shoulder at Nathaniel. Hard to imagine he was the same person as the grim man who’d pursued fugitives to the Coffins’ home.
He looked up from untangling raspberry canes from his clothes. “I wish the mare would foal about the same time as the raspberries come on.”
“She’s too far along. But we might see fit to invite thee back when the berries are ripe,” Deborah said. She paused to study the plants, beaded with green flower buds that would yield berries in a few weeks.
“Glad of that.” He smiled.
Deborah glanced back at him and smiled.
A horse snorted and a tiny voice answered. Deborah and Nathaniel exchanged glances. She took a step forward and he joined her. They pushed aside a screen of leafy branches. In the grass of the clearing, the mare stood over a tiny long-legged foal, nuzzling and licking its fuzzy coat.
Deborah looked at Nathaniel. His eyes widened and he grinned. “I thought I’d never see this. And you’re here to see it with me.”
She looked at him questioningly. “I’m glad thee feels that way.”
He took her hand.
Deborah breathed deeply. Her hand felt so right in his— hidden, safe, protected by his strong grip. Neither John, the weaver, nor Neighbor Smith made her feel that way, because she didn’t feel any closeness to them. “Nathaniel Fox, if thee has forgiven me for my harshness toward thee earlier, then do speak to me when we see each other.”
He kept her hand then took her other one. Deborah’s mind raced. People at weddings faced each other and held hands just like this. But wait, neither she nor anyone in her family knew him very well. “It would be my privilege.”
“I think we should see if thee has a colt or filly,” she added.