On the Sabbath, Nathaniel went to the Walls’ farm after meeting. Deborah let her father and brothers do all the talking with him. They talked about a neighbor boy who’d gone to a Fourth of July celebration and militia shoot. Papa and another of the worthy Friends had been appointed to call on the boy later that week and reason with him about his misconduct.
Nathaniel brought a satchel with him and after dinner told the boys it was a halter and rope to teach the filly to lead. Deborah enjoyed hearing his deep voice and hearty laugh. The boys wanted to hurry out and work with the horses. Deborah stayed back and helped Mama with the dishes.
“Is thee going to see about the filly?” Mama asked.
Deborah watched Nathaniel, the boys, and the horses out the window. “No—I would like to go for a walk.” She sighed. Longing for a talk with Nathaniel had distracted her from everything that happened in meeting. Could anything clear her mind?
She went to the loft and changed into her homespun dress and apron, and then slipped down the ladder again. Outside, the grass in the cabin’s shade felt wonderfully cool to her bare feet. While the boys and Nathaniel faced the other way, she slipped past the barn and into the woods.
The paths made by the cows and horses had turned to thick, warm dust that puffed up between her toes. She followed the trail to the edge of the woods and found the last of the raspberries. Couldn’t let them go to waste. She plucked a few and admired the deep purple of the juice on her hands. God made such a colorful world.
Hoofbeats thudded softly on the trail behind her. She turned around. Nathaniel. The filly dawdled after him, likely out of curiosity since he’d removed the halter; she didn’t see the mare.
“I thought I saw you walk out this way, Deborah. Is something on your mind? You were so quiet at dinner.”
She shook her head. “It is a matter of the heart. Painful to discuss.”
He nodded. “Can I ask you a question or two?”
“Of course. We should always speak the truth.”
He looked down. “One of your nephews said William Smith called on your father.” He took a deep breath. “This is none of my concern.”
“Speak thy mind, Nathaniel.” She held out some raspberries. “Perhaps this will clear thy thinking.”
He chuckled as he took them.
The filly came up to them, her nose out, and snuffled at the berries. Her fuzzy tail twitched, and she stamped a tiny hoof. Nathaniel smiled and offered a berry to the creature. She mouthed it then let the pieces drop from her mouth and turned up her nose.
Out in the pasture, the mare whinnied loudly.
The foal answered in her squeaky voice. The mare galloped past the screen of trees and brush in front of them, and then slid to a stop, neighing frantically. She ran past the end of the woods then turned and thundered down the trail.
She looked wild-eyed and blinded with fright.
Deborah stared at the animal pounding toward them. The horse would not stop for anything until she found the foal.
Nathaniel grabbed Deborah and swung her out of the way. He staggered as his knee gave out, and he lurched into a tree. Deborah caught him before he fell, wrapped her arms around his waist, and then looked past his arm to the mare and foal, whickering to each other. Deborah and Nathaniel held each other up. She imagined the mare scolding the filly for wandering off.
Nathaniel took a deep breath; she felt his ribs heave. “All’s well that ends well. Are you all right?”
Her head rested against his chest; his vest felt scratchy against her cheek. “We forget how powerful they are. They seem so meek.”
Nathaniel looked into her eyes. He was so warm and solid, looming over her, studying her face. Was he going to kiss her? No one ever had. It would be too much intimacy outside of marriage. Deborah barely breathed, longing for him to kiss her, but knowing it was wrong. She straightened and edged away from him.
Nathaniel let her slip from his grasp. “Like our own hearts sometimes.” His face grew solemn, even sorrowful. His voice sounded choked. “Deborah, are you going to marry Friend Smith?”
Deborah shook her head. She turned and watched the mare and foal. “No, Nathaniel. He is so much older than me.”
“He has a lot to offer. A big farm and a beautiful home.”
She shook her head. “One of my greatest fears is to be widowed. He might have many things, but he can’t turn back time. I want—if I ever marry—I want to build a life together.”
He nodded again. “If we are speaking the truth, then Deborah Wall…” He reached out and took her hand. “I have to confess, I can hardly think of anyone or anything but you. All these weeks seeing you at meeting, the times your family invited me over, how we talked about horses—wondering if we could have a future together.”
Her heart leaped, and she gazed into his face. His brows were drawn. He put one hand up and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this was the answer to her prayers for leading. She held his one hand in both of hers and looked down at his big, tanned, work-worn hand. “I’ve wondered the same thing. But thee has said nothing of it until now.”
“I’m trying to build my business and learn to be a better Christian. I felt I had no standing, no right to speak to you.”
“Thee shouldn’t think so little of thyself. Thee’s precious in God’s eyes.”
Nathaniel took a deep breath. “What about in your eyes? Deborah—” He took another breath. “Deborah, I’ve been falling in love with you for weeks. I never thought I’d ever feel this way for anyone, like there’s a future and hope.”
She touched his warm, tanned face then nodded. “I felt the same way.” Was this true or a dream? The two of them together could clear new ground, build a cabin, start a farm of their own, and have a family. Tears of joy welled up in her eyes. Someday they might have a farm as beautiful as the Smith place.
He smiled, his eyes widening and his ruddy face giving his eyes a sky blue gleam. He twined his fingers through hers then raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. His lips felt so warm and soft that she longed to be in his arms.
His face clouded. He looked so forlorn. “What of the Society?”
Deborah’s heart raced. Surely they could work this out. “Thee only has to condemn thy misconduct.”
He dropped his head. “I’m not convinced I’d be joining it for the right reasons. I question some of the Society’s teachings.”
She gasped. “About what?”
“Plain or lofty speech, plain dress or not, makes no difference to me.” He took another deep breath. “I’ve been out in the world and am not convinced that a man can be completely nonviolent.”
Deborah tried to understand him. “If thee trusts the Lord to keep thee—”
He nodded. “I see the logic in that. But I’ve seen bad things, Deborah. I wish I could trust the Lord that much.”
“Perhaps such grace is given day by day, like manna in the wilderness.”
“You might be right.”
She took a deep breath. Her tears came from despair now. “Thee spoke the truth. I do not feel led to leave the Society.”
“And I doubt my reasons for wanting to join.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Oh Deborah, my hope and prayer is, someday, I’m going to marry you.”
She closed her eyes, and her tears spilled over now. “But thee needs to count the cost. Both of us. I think we should speak no more of this, Nathaniel.” Her breath was ragged as she shook her head. “Speak no more of this, I beg of thee.”