Chapter Five
Eli knew who he was and he knew who he wasn’t. I’ll bet Catrina has had a host of suitors and I’ll bet none of them stopped to think how she felt about anything. I’ll bet that they never saw past her beauty. Well, I’m not one of them. And, dash it all, I’m going to make sure that she knows it!
Eli nodded with resolve, straightened his hat, and marched across the field toward Catrina’s cabin. It occurred to him that he wasn’t even one of her suitors yet. And he certainly wasn’t like any suitor that Catrina would have had before. Women like that attracted the strongest, boldest, most dashing of men. Perhaps I’ve been a little hasty to put myself in the same category. Perhaps I’m on a fool’s errand about to make a fool of myself. Again. If there’s one thing that I know how to do, it’s how to dig a deeper hole once I’ve already fallen in....
“Ach!” Eli set his jaw and marched onward. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. It’s as simple as that. Eli told himself that it was as simple as that, but when he saw Catrina’s slender figure outlined against the purple sky as she scattered grain for the chickens, his stomach clenched. He took a good, deep breath and quickened his pace. If his courage faltered now, he would never get the words out. And that wouldn’t be fair to Catrina and it wouldn’t be fair to him.
Catrina straightened her back and stood still for a moment. Eli knew that she had seen him and that she was watching him, but he couldn’t see her face. The evening shadows covered her features. He swallowed and lifted a hand in greeting. Her hands stayed by her sides. He thought she raised her chin slightly, defiantly. He hoped the movement had been a trick of the fading light. He swept off his beaver-felt hat and ran his fingers through his hair. His heart beat against his throat. Dash it all! Why did I have to fall for a woman who is so completely out of my reach?
Catrina stared for another long, uncomfortable moment, then turned away, toward the cabin. A chicken pecked at the earth by her foot and she sidestepped it gracefully.
“Catrina! Wait!”
She froze. Eli saw her shoulders rise and fall in a long, heavy sigh. She didn’t turn back around, but she didn’t walk away, either.
“Catrina.” He broke into a jog. She waited.
When Eli reached her she didn’t turn to look at him. He had to walk around her to see her face.
“What do you want? It’s too late to use the loom. Grandfather is already abed.”
Eli swallowed. “I didn’t come to use the loom.”
“No?” Catrina stood as still as a statue. She stared into his eyes with quiet dignity. But something flickered behind her careful expression. He could sense that she felt conflicted and confused. “I thought you were different. But when I saw you looking at me like that . . .” She turned away. “It’s all you see. It’s all any of you see.” The words came out in a low whisper.
“No, Catrina.” Eli’s voice sounded warm and comforting. He softened his deep voice to match her whisper. “That isn’t all that I see.”
“I am not a fool, Eli Webber. That is the one thing that I’m not.”
“Catrina. I came to say that I’m sorry. Yes, I was staring. But . . . it wasn’t what it looked like. Something about you captured me . . . something deeper and more real than how you looked. Something . . . well, I can’t explain it exactly, but it’s your strength and dignity, your graceful calm, your kind, courageous spirit . . . Dash it all, I’m sorry but I’m not good with words. I guess that’s all I have to say.” He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down. “I guess I’ve said too much. It sounds rather foolish, I’m sure. But, well, it’s what I felt.”
Catrina stared at Eli. For a long, terrible moment he was sure that she was going to slap his face, or storm away. Or much, much worse, he was afraid that she would laugh at him. But she did none of those things. She just stood and stared at him. And finally, when he didn’t think that he could stand it another moment, she spoke. “No one has ever said anything like that to me before.”
Eli’s face jerked. “No?”
Catrina smiled a soft, distant smile. “No.”
“I can’t believe that.”
She sighed. “And yet, it’s true.”
“What fools.”
“You shouldn’t talk like that.”
“No. I’m sorry. I just can’t bear to think that . . .” He shook his head and looked away. He didn’t understand why he felt such a sudden, fierce anger. “You deserve better than that.”
“Why? Why do you say that?” She looked at him with an earnest intensity that made Eli want to cry. He didn’t, of course. He was trying to sweep her off her feet, after all.
“Because you’re you.”
“What?” Catrina laughed. “Whatever does that mean?”
Eli smiled. “There’s something special about you. Something different. And it’s more than your beauty. It’s your quiet strength, your commitment to the faith. It’s the way you make me feel like I’m not alone anymore. That’s all that I am trying to say.”
“Then you’ve said quite a lot, Eli Webber.”
“Yes. I think that I have.”
* * *
Catrina could not sleep that night. She stared into the rafters and heard Eli’s words over and over again. Did he mean what he said? Could he really mean that she was special for more than her looks? Catrina shifted onto her side and punched the feather pillow to make a hollow for her head. She listened to the steady whistle of her grandparents’ breath across the cabin. I’ve heard words like that before. And I was foolish enough to believe them. Catrina remembered the smile of another man who had stood over her and whispered sweet, desperate words. Was Eli the same? They were both men after all.
The other man—she would not say his name, not even in her mind—had flashed his teeth when he smiled, same as Eli. But the other man had not smiled with his eyes. No, his eyes had been calculating. They were not eyes that crinkled at the corners and danced as Eli’s eyes did. Eli smiled with his eyes—no, with his whole face, his whole body. Catrina’s lips curled upward and she realized that she was smiling at the thought of his smile.
She jerked her mouth back to a frown. Oh no you don’t. Oh. No. You. Don’t. Catrina tugged the quilt off her legs. She felt too hot and stuffy. The room was closing in on her. I won’t fall for another man again. I won’t risk it. Oh sure, she had run after Jacob Miller when she first came to New Canaan. But that was different. She pursued him. She had been in control. She had reeled him in like a silvery, slippery fish on a hook.
Of course, it had been a disaster. A complete and total disaster. But she had never relinquished control. She had never let him run after her or whisper sweet nothings into her ear or tell her how much he loved her. In fact, he had never loved her at all. She had always known that, deep down. And it had felt safe, in a way. Or familiar at least. No man had ever loved her for her. No man had ever looked at her and seen beneath the surface to the woman inside. She laughed out loud, then remembered that her grandparents slept nearby. Oh, the irony! Of all her childhood friends she was the only one unmarried. She, the one who had always been considered the greatest catch, was the only one who slept alone in the dark, listening to the emptiness clang inside her heart with every beat.
Well, Eli was no Jacob Miller. Eli was interested in her. Eli looked at her in a way that Jacob Miller never had. And that was the problem. Because, when he looked at her with affection, she could only think of him—the man in Philadelphia whose name she wanted to forget.
But she would never forget that man, would she? And the memory would follow her like a dark stain that she could never hide or wash away. The shame of it. The shame! And the worst part was that she had been fooled. Oh yes, she had been completely and utterly fooled by him. And I will not be fooled again. Never, never again.
Catrina threw back the quilt and let the cool night air rush over her skin. She shivered in her thin linen shift and rolled off the narrow straw pallet. The cabin felt too small, too confining. She had to get outside. She fumbled in the dark for her skirt and pulled it over her shift, then shrugged into her bodice and fastened the ties. She didn’t bother to pull on her woolen hosen or pin the removable sleeves onto her bodice. There was no one to see her. New Canaan stood at the edge of the colonies, surrounded by dense and endless woodlands.
Catrina slid her bare feet into her leather shoes and wrapped a wool cloak around her, then slipped out the door. The stillness of the night hit her like a slap. The wilderness felt so empty. And yet, she knew it was full of life. Somewhere, beyond the clearing, bears and bobcats roamed the hillsides. Owls swooped through the dark air. Possums waddled on tiny feet, snuffling for food. But those night creatures would never reveal themselves to her. She wrapped the cloak more tightly around her and listened to the silence. Somewhere, far, far away, a wolf howled. Another wolf answered and the cry echoed against the Blue Mountain and disappeared into the cold white stars. She was alone, completely alone.
No, that wasn’t quite true. Her grandparents were on the other side of the log wall and they loved her. So did her friends in the settlement. But there was still that emptiness, that ache inside that told her she was alone among a group of people. A cool wind swept across the field and brought the smell of fresh, damp earth to her. Her thick black hair rippled and fluttered away from her face. I should have put on my prayer kappe. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and held it in place with her hand. Another wolf howled. The first two wolves joined in and their cries rose together in a strange, mournful song that cut through the darkness. Not even the wolves are alone. Only me. Always me.
A light caught Catrina’s eye. She squinted and took a few steps forward. There, behind the tree line, just beyond the field. She recognized the flicker of orange and yellow. A campfire. Eli’s campfire. He must be sitting there now, staring into the flames. Was he thinking of her? Did he feel alone in the night too?
But she knew that wasn’t the question to ask. She knew that he was thinking about her. Men always did. What was he thinking about her? That was the question.
* * *
Eli woke up feeling like a new man. He whistled as he shrugged into his waistcoat and fastened his leather shoes. He whistled as he chopped a log for kindling. When he set down the ax, Gertrud narrowed her eyes at him. He grinned and slapped his sister on the back. “Beautiful morning, ja?”
“Ja. Beautiful.” She followed him with suspicious eyes as he walked to the campfire, still whistling.
“Ah. Fried salt pork. My favorite.”
“You hate fried salt pork. Why, just last week you said that you would scream if you saw another piece of fried salt pork. You said that you are sick to death of it.”
“Did I?” Eli grinned. “Funny thing, that.”
“Ja. Hilarious.” Gertrud stooped down and pulled the cast-iron spider off the coals. “Whatever has gotten into you, Eli Webber?”
Eli shrugged. “A man can’t be in a good mood?”
“No.”
Eli laughed. “Just happy that I took your advice, I guess.”
Gertrud froze. She dropped the cast-iron spider onto the dirt. The salt pork slid in the grease and almost slipped over the side of the skillet.
“Hey! Watch out for my breakfast!”
Gertrud ignored Eli. Her eyes narrowed. “What advice?”
Eli tried to pick out a slice of salt pork with his fingers, but he jerked his hand back and shook it. “Use a spatula,” Gertrud said.
Eli popped his finger in his mouth. “Burned myself.”
“Ja. What advice?”
“Oh, that.” Eli took the spatula out of Gertrud’s hand and slid a fat slice of salt pork onto a pewter plate. “You know, that advice you gave me last night.” He waved his hand distractedly. “To tell Catrina how I really felt about her.”
Gertrud stared at him. “I said no such thing.”
Eli shrugged and bit into the pork. He had to tug hard with his teeth to work off a bite-sized piece of the tough, dried meat. “Mfu mfed fu fell fer—”
“I can’t understand you.”
Eli shrugged again and kept chewing. Gertrud stared at him with narrowed eyes until he swallowed. “Man’s got to eat,” he said.
“What exactly do you think that I told you?” Gertrud asked.
“Oh, you know. To march right over there and set things straight. And tell her that I care about her for who she is, not how she looks.”
“I most certainly did not.”
“No?” Eli cocked his head. “I guess not. That was more me.”
“It was all you.”
“But I never would have said anything if you hadn’t told me to go set things straight.”
“Are you telling me that you declared your feelings to Catrina and that I’m the one who encouraged you to do it?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, sister mine. And I do want to thank you for it. I have no regrets. No regrets at all.”
“No regrets?! NO REGRETS?!”
Eli flinched. “Really, Gertie. That face does not become you. Let’s lower our voice, shall we? Shouting is bad for the digestion, you know.”
“Eli Webber, I have spent the last two days warning you about Catrina. And now you tell me that I encouraged you to declare your . . . your . . . your feelings for her?”
“Mmmm.” Eli was still smiling. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I did no such thing and you know it!”
Eli shrugged and gave a wide, satisfied grin. “Well, I guess you shouldn’t have told me to stop pouting and go back up there.”
Gertrud began to shake, actually shake with frustration.
“You’ve got no one to blame but yourself, sister mine.” He picked up another slice of salt pork. “You’ve become quite the matchmaker, as a matter of fact. Quite the matchmaker indeed.”