Chapter 33

Anna

Hotel Ottawa
1897

I’m a mess of nerves as I prepare for bed. I don’t want to go rowing with William tomorrow. I don’t want to take the steamship home to Chicago. I feel like I can’t breathe when I think about the long voyage across the Atlantic Ocean for our wedding trip. Praying is still very new to me, but I climb into bed and curl into a ball and plead with God to help me. I ask Him to calm the churning waves in my soul the way Jesus calmed the Sea of Galilee for His frightened disciples. I ask Him to show me who I really am and what He wants me to do with my life. I pray and pray until I run out of words—and then something remarkable happens. I feel His blessing of peace on me as if a gentle hand rests on my head in benediction. It’s just like the dream I had when Mama knelt in front of the altar in the castle church and the minister rested his hand on her head. I drift off peacefully to sleep.

The sound of running feet and voices in the hallway awakens me. I sit up in bed, my heart racing. It’s still very dark in my room, but a dull orange glow flickers outside my window around the edges of the curtains. I have left the window open and the air that drifts inside smells like a campfire. The agitation in the hallway grows louder. I hear someone say the word fire.

I scramble out of bed and yank the curtains open. A short distance away on the opposite shore of Black Lake an enormous fire is raging. Flames leap and dance as they consume one of the big resort hotels across the lake. The reflection of the flames on the water makes it seem as if the lake is burning, too. Thick black smoke billows into the sky, snuffing out the stars above the burning building. Showers of sparks ascend into the air along with the smoke like a flock of flaming birds. Black Lake isn’t very wide at this point. Might the sparks fly across the glowing water and set our hotel on fire, too?

I hurry to the connecting door to Mother’s room and knock on it to awaken her. “There’s a huge fire across the lake from us,” I tell her. “I think we should get dressed and gather up our things in case we need to evacuate.” All my life I’ve heard stories about the Great Chicago Fire that destroyed the city in 1871, just three years before I was born. People say it spread out of control faster than the firemen could battle it. For a while, they’d hoped the Chicago River would halt the fire’s spread, but flaming debris blew across the water on the wind, incinerating the city. If the wind is just right tonight, might debris cross Black Lake just as easily?

I’m all dressed except for my shoes when someone knocks on my hallway door. I open it to find William standing there. He has pulled on his trousers without a belt or suspenders and he’s wearing shoes without any socks. He’s wearing a linen blazer over his striped pajama top. “Anna, thank God you’re all right!” he says as he lunges to embrace me. “When I first woke up and smelled the smoke, I thought our hotel was on fire.”

“I did, too, for a minute.”

“They say it’s the Jenison Park Hotel that’s burning, but I still wanted to find you and make sure you’re fine. I was so panicked at the thought of you trapped in the flames that I threw on my clothes and came to see you.”

“I’m fine. I got dressed, too, just in case . . .”

He holds me close, stroking my sleep-tousled hair. “I’m so glad I was here to take care of you. If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.” His words touch me, and I hug him tightly in return. A moment later he releases me, and Mother opens the door we share.

“Oh, William, thank goodness you’re here to take charge. I’m so relieved.” I suddenly understand why women like my mother and Honoria Stevens choose to look the other way when their husbands have brief affairs. Mother would be lost without the security of a man in her life. My father makes her feel safe and gives her an identity. He makes her who she is—Mrs. Arthur Nicholson. Now that William is here to take care of us, she feels secure. And so do I. It’s the same sense of safety I always feel in my nightmare when Father’s strong hands hold me above the waves to keep me from drowning.

“I don’t believe we’re in any danger at the moment,” William says. “But I think we’d be wise to stay vigilant until the fire is under control. The wind seems to be blowing very briskly.”

“I would like to go outside and watch,” I say, putting on my shoes. “Do you want to come with us, Mother?”

“I’ll watch from the window. I’m not presentable.” She says this even though she is fully dressed. But her hair is still in a long braid for the night.

“I’ll come back for you if there is any danger,” William promises.

We head downstairs toward the main door holding hands. With so many windows open on this warm, summer night, smoke has drifted into the hallways and stairwells. Outside, we join dozens of other guests from our hotel as we stand near the shore in a mishmash of clothing and watch the inferno across the glowing lake. The opposite shoreline is lined with people who have fled the burning building. I can only imagine their terror. The Jenison Park Hotel resembles a flaming skeleton as fire engulfs the roof and licks through the windows.

“I feel so sorry for all those people over there, watching their hotel burn,” I say. “I hope everyone made it out safely.”

“Yes . . . It’s going to be a total loss from the looks of it.”

“How horrifying fire is! I’ve seen photographs of Chicago after the Great Fire. And to think, it happened only a few years before I was born.” To parents who then abandoned me. The thought brings tears to my eyes, which already sting from the smoke. William slips his arm around my waist as we stand together, and I wrap mine around him, as well. The uncertainty and fear on this strange night have broken down our reserves with each other. After a while, I notice that William is looking at me, not the fire.

“You’re so beautiful, Anna,” he says, brushing a blowing strand of hair from my face. “The glow of the firelight has turned your hair to pure gold.”

My hair. It’s another reminder that I don’t know who I am or where I came from. I remember how Derk mistook me for someone else the first day we met—for a Dutch woman—and I feel prompted to say, “William, there’s something I’m not sure you know about me. . . . I was adopted. My father and mother aren’t really my . . . I mean, they’ve raised me since I was a baby, but . . . but I’m not really their daughter.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Does it matter to you that I don’t know anything about my background?”

“Not in the least.” He pulls me closer. “It’s the woman you are now that I care about.” We watch as a section of the building’s wall crumbles like a child’s tower of blocks. We hear the distant rumble a few seconds later. “Anna, when I woke up tonight and thought our hotel was on fire . . . when I imagined losing you . . . I guess we don’t realize how important the people in our lives really are until we fear we may lose them. I don’t want to lose you, Anna. I’m so sorry we quarreled.”

I look up at him and smile. His face is sprinkled with bristles of dark whiskers that need to be shaved. I’ve never seen him without his beard well trimmed, and I reach up to brush my fingertips across his cheek. “I’m sorry, too.”

“I know I’m probably at fault for over-reacting, but I’ve heard stories about people who’ve been swindled out of all their money by unscrupulous clergymen and so-called religious groups. I admit I don’t know much about that particular church except that they’re not really our sort of people.”

“You mean not wealthy?”

“I suppose.”

“The pastor of that church isn’t unscrupulous. And many working-class people do attend there. But I’ve been reading the Bible this summer, and I’ve learned a lot of things. It’s hard for rich people like us not to rely on our wealth, and Jesus warns us not to put our trust in money instead of in Him. I don’t intend to foolishly give away my money to anyone, but I do want to grow in faith and learn to trust God more. I want to keep reading my Bible and learning for myself what Jesus taught. I hope you’ll allow me to do that after we’re married.”

William lets out his breath in a rush. “I admit that your sudden religious fervor isn’t something I understand. Other people in our social circle seem content with the role that religion has always played in our lives.” He pauses and we both gaze at the shocking scene across the lake as the flames rage out of control, devouring the once-grand building. William’s arm tightens around my waist, drawing me closer. “I suppose I’d be willing to listen more closely to what you’re saying from now on. I don’t want your pursuit of God or faith or religion or whatever you might call it to come between us again.”

I feel a prickle of hope. I recall the sense of peace that had overwhelmed me earlier tonight. “One of the reasons I kept going back to that church was because I needed to find answers to all my questions. But during my time alone here, I’ve learned that God will lead me to the answers if I seek Him. I can honor your wishes, William, and not return to that church again.”

He turns away from the fire and looks down at me. “I’m glad. And I want to make you happy, too, Anna.”

His words bring tears to my eyes, a smile to my face. He truly means it. I wish our marriage would be like this, like tonight. That we’d always feel this close to each other. That we would be able to talk this freely and really listen to each other. I know that marriages in our social circle aren’t usually close, but why couldn’t William’s and mine be different? Perhaps it’s a goal I could aim for.

We watch the fire until there is little more for it to consume. Thankfully, the wind has died down and the risk of the fire spreading from blowing sparks seems to have lessened. By the time we go back inside, I feel closer to William than ever before.

“Let’s choose a date for our wedding when we get back to Chicago,” he says. “So we can begin our life together.”

“I would like that.” It’s the truth. He gives me a long, lingering kiss that leaves me feeling dizzy before we part.

I lay down on my bed without bothering to change into my nightgown again, unsure if I’ll be able to fall asleep, even though it’s still dark outside. Things seem different between William and me now. He seems different. I want to share my life with him and be a good wife to him. Demanding that I be allowed to visit the LaSalle Street church seems silly to me now, and very childish. As Derk has assured me, I can talk with God in prayer anyplace, anytime. I fall asleep with the same sense of peace that I had after praying earlier tonight.

It’s still very early in the morning when I do wake up. I practically leap off the bed with an overwhelming urge to go outside and find Derk. I want to talk to him one last time before I return home to Chicago and tell him about the changes I saw in William last night. I want to thank him for his friendship and for the Bible he gave me. And I want to find out what he decided to do about his girlfriend, Caroline.

The grass is damp with dew, the air faintly smoky as I make my way down to the bench where we so often talked. I don’t see Derk anywhere, so I sit facing Black Lake and the charred, still-smoking ruins of the Jenison Park Hotel.

“You’re up early this morning,” someone says behind me. I know it’s Derk even before I turn around.

“Yes, I—”

“I heard that was quite a fire last night.”

“It was. William and I watched it from here. I hope everyone got out all right.”

“The morning news reported that everyone is safe, thank heaven.”

“I’m glad. . . . Listen, I got up early because I wanted to talk with you. Can you spare a moment?”

“Of course.” He sits down on the bench beside me, careful to keep a respectable distance between us.

“I can only imagine what you must think of William now that you’ve met him.”

“It’s not my place to judge—”

“I know he has a strong, forceful personality at times, but he needs to be aggressive in order to be good at what he does, and to get ahead in the banking business. But he can be very tender and loving, too. Last night when the fire woke everyone up, he was very concerned for me. We had a chance to talk as we stood here watching the flames, and he told me how much he cares for me. He promised to try to be more understanding as I search for answers to all my questions. I feel very certain about marrying him now. I know he’ll be good to me.”

“I’m glad. . . . But may I offer just one more word of advice?”

I hesitate, unsure if I want Derk to shatter the sense of peace I finally feel. “I suppose so.”

“In your world you’re taught to be genteel and submissive. You’re a quiet, gentle woman, and you hold all your feelings inside. But I know you can speak up, Anna. You told me exactly what you thought that day we walked up Mt. Pisgah. You weren’t afraid to offer your opinion.”

“I’m sorry if I—”

“No, listen. You need to do the same thing with William. Don’t let him run over you like a team of horses. If you don’t want to go out rowing in one of these boats, tell him so. Don’t let him bully you.”

“You make it sound so easy. It’s not.”

“I understand. Maybe you could just pretend he’s me for a moment and then tell him what you really think.” We both laugh, and I know Derk and I are good friends once again.

“Thank you for that advice. Now, if you don’t mind me being nosy, I’m very curious to hear what happened when you talked with Caroline—unless it’s none of my business.”

He exhales in a huge sigh. “Well, it didn’t go the way I’d hoped it would. Tante Geesje helped me see that I had to choose between wanting my own way and wanting God’s will for my life. So I told Caroline that I couldn’t accept her compromise. My calling to be a pastor hasn’t changed. I told her if she loved me enough to try to cope with the demands of my job, I would promise not to let my congregation take advantage of me at the expense of my family. I would promise to be sensitive to her and to our children. But I’ve been called and trained to be the pastor of a church, and I have to obey God.”

“What did she say?”

Derk seems to steady himself. “She started crying and told me to leave. I hate knowing that I caused those tears.”

“Was it real grief or was she using tears to try to sway you?”

Derk looks surprised, as if he hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know. But I think it’s over for good between us.”

“You advised me to stand firm with William so I’m glad you did the same with Caroline.”

“Tante Geesje says that if it’s the Lord’s will for Caroline and me to be together, everything will fall into place. If not . . . well, I want His will, not my own.”

“That’s very good advice. I’m sorry I never got to meet your aunt. She sounds like a wise and wonderful woman.” I look out at the row of boats, and as I contemplate crossing the lake with William in a steamship later this afternoon, an idea begins to form. “Are you supposed to start work now, Derk?”

“Well . . . actually, I’m not working today. It’s Sunday, and I don’t do any work on the Sabbath Day.” I notice for the first time that he isn’t dressed in work clothes. He has on nice trousers and a dress shirt. A jacket with a tie sticking out of the pocket is slung over his shoulder.

“Then why are you here?”

He looks embarrassed as he stares down at the bench, not at me. “I was hoping to talk to you one last time. I heard William say he’d come to take you home.”

It takes me a moment to absorb his words. I rose early today in hopes of seeing Derk, and he did the same to see me. I don’t know what to make of the coincidence. Perhaps God has prompted both of us for mysterious reasons of His own. I look at the rowboats again and say, “I have a favor to ask you. I want to rent one of your rowboats.”

“You mean later today? With William?”

“No. Right now. I want you to take me out on the lake so I can get over my fear of the water. I need to go rowing with William today, take the steamship home to Chicago with him later, and go on a honeymoon to Europe and see those canals in Italy. I can’t remain afraid.”

“Are you sure you want to go now?”

“I’m positive. I trust you, Derk. Will you take me?”

He rises to his feet. “Let’s go.”