twenty-three
The level flooded land near the river provided a hockey rink, and Zoe stood with the other spectators along the side and cheered as the puck slid across the ice into the goal.
Abe raised his broomstick in a sign of victory and grinned at his teammates. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold and exertion of the game. With the afternoon sunshine glinting off his fair hair, he’d never looked more rugged and handsome, and Zoe’s heart pattered faster with both pride and admiration.
Abe was the best player on either team. He was strong and fast and aggressive. And yet, he’d proven himself to be fair and kind not only to his teammates but also to the other players.
“Good game, Pastor Abe.” One of the miners on the opposite team shook Abe’s hand. “You won fair enough this time.”
Abe traded compliments and wove among the men, backslapping with his usual good-natured affection.
Violet babbled as though offering her congratulations, and Zoe made sure the knit hat still snugly covered the babe’s ears.
“She gets bigger every day,” Mr. Hemming said, patting Violet’s cap as he passed by.
“Aye, she does.” Zoe’s shoulders ached under Violet’s weight even though she held the babe in the sling.
“I’m still wearing the socks you knit for me.” Mr. Hemming lifted one of his trouser legs and pointed with his cane to the thick stockings she’d delivered to him a few days after the fire in Shantytown as a way of thanking him for all the ways he’d worked with her and Abe to find temporary shelter for the people who’d been affected by the fire. “Haven’t taken them off once.”
“Not once?” She raised her brow. “Well, be careful. If you start losing diners, then you know it’s time to give the socks a washing.”
He laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. At least I’ll be aware that it’s not the food scaring them away, just my smelly socks.”
“Guess I better get started knitting you another pair.” She’d long since used up the yarn Mrs. Moresby had sent along with her, and she’d also purchased the last of what Mr. Allard had in his general store. Finally she’d asked Abe to look for more on one of his visits to another town.
Mr. Hemming squeezed her arm affectionately. “You’re a mighty fine woman, Mrs. Merivale. Pastor Abe couldn’t have picked a better wife.” As he limped off, his kind words warmed Zoe all the way down to her bones, making her forget about her cold fingers and toes.
Though the sunshine made the day warmer, it hadn’t penetrated the lingering cold. Now that March had come and spring was drawing nigh, Zoe expected warmer temperatures and melting snow, but winter clung to the hills and mountains with a tenacity that made the miners restless. The brawling and violence had escalated as the men took to drinking more while waiting for the thawing that would allow them to return to the mining camps and their claims.
’Course, the increasing problems meant Abe was busier than usual. Since everyone respected him, they called upon him often to intervene in the disputes and problems. To combat the idleness and issues, Abe had started the hockey games as he’d apparently done last year.
On days that weren’t too cold for Violet to be outside, Zoe liked going to the games—mainly to watch Abe, although she didn’t tell him as much. Even now as he moved among the men, her sights lingered upon his chiseled profile that stood out among the others. He was not only taller and more muscular, but he was so handsome that her stomach flopped upside down, especially as her mind drifted back to the early morning hours when he’d nestled against her.
Over the past two weeks of sharing the bed when he was home, he’d made a valiant effort at staying on his side. But most mornings, she’d awoken with his body all too near. Even though he’d tightened the rope frame and attempted to stay in his spot, he ended up curved into her, his hand in her hair or on her hip.
Once he awoke, he was always embarrassed and scrambled away, even though she wasn’t in a hurry for him to leave. In fact, just that morning when he’d shifted away from her, she’d started to reach for him and draw him back, only to catch herself.
She was trying to be careful not to like him any more than she already did, but he was making that awfully hard, especially since he continued to surprise her with his sensitivity. He prepared Violet’s bottle every morning, and he’d also started changing her napkin rather than handing the babe back to her.
Not only were his efforts with Violet sweet, but he also surprised her from time to time with little gifts. After one trip, he returned with a small leather-bound Bible. Though it hadn’t been new, she’d been thrilled to know he’d been thinking about her enough while he was away to bring her the gift. Another day, he’d brought her a pair of her own snowshoes and the next day had shown her how to use them. Since then, they’d gone on a couple of hikes in the snow, and he’d taught her how to identify animal tracks.
At a bump against her leg, Zoe glanced down to find Lyle smiling up at her. “Well, hello there, Little Man. How are you today?”
“O-ee,” he said, botching her name, somehow unable to pronounce the Z. As usual his nose was runny and his face crusty. But thankfully, this time Wanda had the sense to put the boy in the warm hat and mittens Zoe had knitted for him and given to him at yesterday’s game.
Wanda only came as the games were winding down, more interested in garnering the men’s notice afterward than she was in watching them play. Zoe had taken to giving the boy some attention while Wanda flirted her way through both teams.
Lyle reached out his blue mitten and pointed at Violet. “Ba-bee?”
Zoe crouched in front of him. “Would you like to see Violet?”
He nodded eagerly.
She pulled back the blanket to reveal Violet’s face. At the sight of Lyle, she smiled and greeted him with a squeal of delight.
Lyle put his hands over his eyes and then said something that sounded vaguely like peekaboo, earning for himself another of Violet’s squeals. Zoe couldn’t contain her own smile at the sight of the boy imitating the game she’d shown him yesterday.
Nearby along the wharf, a steamer had docked and passengers were making their way down the gangplank. With each passing day, more and more miners were arriving in Yale and readying themselves for the hike up into the Fraser Canyon to the Cariboo region. The hotels and taverns were overflowing in readiness.
At the sight of a dark-haired man of medium build stepping off the gangplank, she took a second look. Something about the way he walked and held himself seemed familiar. Although his hat obscured his face, her heart pattered faster. Zeke?
At Abe’s suggestion, she’d penned a short letter to the man named Jeremiah Hart up in Williamsville, asking if his true identity was Zeke. She’d also said that if he was her brother, then he was free from the accusation of the crime and she was sorry she’d driven him away. Abe had already given the letter to one of his trusted friends, who was departing soon for Williamsville, assuring her that his friend would do his best to deliver the letter to Mr. Hart.
She’d asked Abe when he was leaving to go on his circuit up into the mining camps of the Fraser Canyon, reminding him of his offer to take her and go to Zeke together. Abe had commented on how dangerous the path still was and his desire to wait until the road was firmer. He’d indicated that with the church building project, he wasn’t free to ride his circuit for the time being anyway.
As the dark-haired man began walking in the opposite direction, Zoe stood, her heart suddenly pounding with the need to chase after the newcomer, spin him around, and see if he was Zeke.
With her hand sliding to the pendant in her pocket, she took several rapid steps, leaving Lyle behind. At a shout from someone on the gangplank, the dark-haired man looked over his shoulder. It was enough for Zoe to glimpse his face—the face of a stranger and not her brother.
Disappointment halted her steps, as did Lyle’s call behind her. “O-ee, O-ee.”
Silently she reminded herself to be patient, that she’d find Zeke sooner or later. She’d waited this long already, and a few more months wouldn’t hurt her efforts.
“Ba-bee.” Lyle toddled up next to her and tugged her hand.
She lowered herself to the boy’s level again and let him play peekaboo with Violet to his heart’s content before teaching him another clapping game.
“Lately all Little Man talks about is Ba-bee and O-ee” came Wanda’s voice behind her.
Zoe stood and faced Wanda warily. Even though she was attired in her usual gaudy gown, it hung more loosely. Her painted face was thinner and her hair lusterless. The winter hadn’t been kind to Wanda. Nevertheless, since the first meeting on the steamship to Yale, Zoe hadn’t been able to shake the feeling she was competing with Wanda for Abe’s affection. The envy was ridiculous. Especially since Abe never looked at Wanda, not even when the woman directly addressed him.
Or maybe that was why the unease plagued Zoe. If Wanda meant nothing to Abe, why was he so awkward every time she spoke to him? If he had no feelings for the beautiful woman, wouldn’t he be able to view her as he did his other parishioners?
Maybe Wanda’s show of flesh and wanton ways made him uncomfortable. Maybe he was simply trying to remain immune to her wiles, unlike the others who practically fell over themselves whenever she was near.
“Lyle really likes Violet.” Zoe offered the boy a smile and a pat on his head.
“My invitation still stands.” Wanda watched Zoe’s interaction with Lyle and muffled a deep cough against her coat sleeve. “You and Pastor Abe must join me for a dinner party sometime.”
Zoe bristled just as she had earlier in the week when Wanda had mentioned having them over. She didn’t want Wanda anywhere near Abe, especially not in her home. Zoe’s gaze flickered involuntarily to the mansion that sat a short distance away on the edge of town.
Set against the backdrop of the mountains, the blue clapboard, three-story house with its multiple steep gables and turrets, along with yellow decorative bargeboard, was large enough to fit Abe’s cabin a dozen times over. With its bay window on the ground floor, porch stretching across the front and overlooking a grassy yard, and single-story rear wing, clearly no expense had been spared in building the home.
“Abe’s too busy for dinner parties,” Zoe said. She wasn’t lying. He was busy. And when he wasn’t out meeting the many needs of the people he served, she wanted him to be home with her and Violet and Will.
“Oh, I see.” Wanda smiled but then coughed again. “You don’t like having to share him with the whole town.”
Wanda’s words hit too close to the truth, a truth Zoe tried to avoid, the truth that she wanted more of Abe’s time and attention. “It’s none of your business, Wanda.”
“Maybe if you knew how to satisfy him, you wouldn’t have to share him.”
Wanda’s accusation landed with a sickening thud at the bottom of Zoe’s stomach. The fact was, she wasn’t Lizzy and never would be. And even if Abe didn’t talk about Lizzy, her picture was still on the bookshelf, behind the pile of books. She might be out of sight, but her presence was always there.
Wanda’s attention shifted beyond Zoe, and her lips curved up in welcome.
Zoe craned her neck to find that Abe was striding their way, still in conversation with several teammates.
Wanda tossed her long ringlets over her shoulders and let her cloak slip down, revealing, as usual, miles of bare skin.
A hot blade sliced into Zoe’s chest. Even if she wasn’t Lizzy, she wouldn’t stand back and allow Wanda to flaunt herself in front of Abe and entice him away.
“I can satisfy my husband just fine,” Zoe said. With her blood pounding an angry tempo, she squared her shoulders. Then, before Abe noticed Wanda, Zoe stalked toward him. She stopped directly in front of him, forcing him to a halt as well.
“Zoe?” He searched her face as though sensing something was amiss.
Before she lost her nerve and before Abe could step away, she reached both hands up to his face and cupped his cheeks.
His eyes widened, revealing questions and confusion.
She hesitated only a second before standing on her toes and at the same time guiding his head down so that her mouth met his. She wasn’t entirely inexperienced with kissing. She’d once kissed a boy she liked when she’d been in school. And there had been another time, when a neighbor boy had stolen a kiss from her.
Even so, the moment her lips connected with Abe’s, she knew her previous kisses couldn’t begin to compare. There was something powerful, almost intoxicating about touching her lips to his. Without waiting for his response, she eagerly meshed her mouth more fully and pushed into him, giving him no choice but to kiss her in return.
He opened to her tentatively, exploring, tasting, and then returning the pressure. As though drawn in and wanting more, he settled one hand upon her hip and brought the other up to the back of her neck.
Breathless, she gave herself over to the kiss, letting the world and everyone else in it fall away from her consciousness so that all that mattered was him and the exquisite pleasure swelling with each passing moment.
Abe’s hand upon her hip became tight, possessive, almost burning. His mouth moved urgently against hers so that she wanted to feel close to him the same way she did in the mornings. But as Violet’s indignant squall rose between them, Zoe broke from Abe’s kiss. Aye, somehow the kiss had become his and no longer hers.
She took a rapid step away. He let his hand fall from her neck but kept his hold on her hip and his attention riveted to her mouth. His pupils were wide and his blue irises cloudy with desire.
The sight of such blatant yearning sent sparks along every nerve ending so that she wanted to reach up to kiss him again and this time not stop.
Wanda’s laughter cut through the haze of longing. “Pastor Abe’s a good kisser, isn’t he?”
At Wanda’s words, Abe glanced up at her and winced. Wanda winked at him as though they shared a secret. And Zoe suspected that somehow they did.