Chapter Fifteen
Eli woke up the next morning wrestling over his feelings for Catrina and his promise to Gertrud. He wondered if he should call on Catrina. Perhaps she had taken ill. That would explain why she had not come to use the loom as agreed. Or maybe she simply had too much to do that day. It was spring, after all, and the settlement had come awake after a long, quiet winter to plow and sow and take advantage of all the bounty nature bestowed after the last snows receded. Spring was a busy time for them all. Only Eli and Gertrud lived by a different rhythm. They were not servants to the seasons, but rather to the demand for clothing, which stayed steady year round.
What had he promised Gertrud, exactly? Eli frowned as he pulled up his woolen hosen and used a ribbon to tie them into place above his knees. How could he keep that promise and stay true to his heart? How could he make up for his past wrongs? Could any sacrifice make up for what he had done to her?
Eli listened to the sounds of the cabin awakening. He heard Gertrud stack kindling on the hearth. Metal scraped against metal. Water poured and splashed. He sighed. He did not want to open the curtain that separated the room. When the curtain opened he would have to face the day. More importantly, he would have to face his sister. He would have to choose whether to stay loyal to her or pursue the woman he loved. If only Catrina would call on him today! The answer seemed so clear when she stood before him, gazing at him with those impossibly blue eyes.
But when it was just he and Gertrud, Eli’s nerve faltered. The guilt came flooding back and that terrible day in the forest came back to him in gut-wrenching flashes. He could still smell the acrid, woodsy scent of the brush fire, hear the dull thud of the ax against oak, and see the flash of sunlight against the metal blade. Most vivid was the sound of the crack as the stout trunk gave way. Gertrud had forgiven him. But he had not forgiven himself. He did not know if he ever could. Worse, he did not know if he should.
“Eli, are you still abed?” Gertrud asked through the curtain.
“No.” He slung the curtain aside and stalked to the hearth. “I’m up.”
Gertrud’s face fell. “You look unwell.”
Eli shrugged and looked away. “I’m fine.”
Gertrud looked at him for a moment too long before she turned her attention back to the fire. She did not look convinced. A guilty look rippled across her features before she clamped her face into a hard mask.
Eli sighed. It was going to be a long day. Unless Catrina showed up. That would make everything all right, at least for the time they were together, regardless of what the future might bring.
* * *
Catrina did not show that day, or the next, or the next. By midweek, Eli slogged through his chores with heavy steps and a slow, sinking feeling in his stomach. The steady, friendly rhythm of the loom could not soothe him. His thoughts kept turning to the cabin on the other side of the Witmer field. Sometimes he saw Georg and Frena bent over the dirt, their hands pushing and prodding the earth in quick, practiced motions. But Catrina never appeared.
Eli kept the shutters open after nightfall and stared across the field, hoping to catch a glimpse of that graceful, self-assured silhouette. The outline of a woman’s body appeared against the pink sky and Eli jolted to attention. His heart leapt into his mouth at the thought of seeing her. But he quickly realized that was not Catrina. That was Frena scattering feed to the chickens. Eli exhaled and closed the shutters. The room darkened and Gertrud called for him to light a candle.
“Do you suppose that Catrina has taken ill?” Eli asked as he carried the lit candle to the table and set it in the pewter holder.
“Ill?” Gertrud shook her head. The spinning wheel clattered as she pumped her foot on the treadle. “No. Why would you think that?”
“She has not come to use the loom as we had agreed.”
“Ah.” Gertrud’s face took on a look of concentration. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “I saw her yesterday.”
“Did you?”
“Ja. She was carrying a basket in the direction of the bake oven.”
Eli nodded. “She bakes on Wednesday.”
“Does she? What a strange thing to notice.”
Was that strange? Wouldn’t it be stranger not to notice the comings and goings of the woman he loved? “Perhaps. But I have noticed, nonetheless.”
“Then she is well enough.”
“Ja.” Eli hesitated. He cleared his throat. “I thought I might call on her to make sure that she is well.”
“But now there is no need. She was baking only yesterday.”
Eli paused. He rubbed the back of his neck. His sister’s logic was sound. “Ja. That’s true enough.”
“Good. She is well. We are well. All is well.” She lifted her foot from the treadle and the spinning wheel creaked to a stop. “I’ll get your supper now. That will set you to rights.”
Eli sighed. Not even a good meal was enough to set him to rights. And for that to be true, the situation had gotten very bad indeed.
As the week rolled on each day blended into the rest. There was firewood to chop, breakfast to eat, and the morning’s weaving to do. They ate a cold lunch and he continued weaving until dark. They ate a warm supper, went to bed, and started over again the next day. He felt that he might go mad from the repetition, which was quite odd. After all, this had been his life for years and he had never questioned it before. He had been reasonably content, in fact.
Until Catrina Witmer appeared in his life. And now, he felt that he could not go another day without seeing her. Each hour dragged into an eternity as he waited to hear her clear, girlish voice outside the threshold, see her shining face as she strode into the cabin, or feel the light touch of her hand against his arm as he escorted her home again.
This would not do. And yet, it would have to do, for he had no other choice.
* * *
Catrina stood at the window and gazed across the field toward Eli’s cabin. Smoke rose above the trees and curled into the sky to join the clouds. She sighed and turned back to her grandparents. They lingered over breakfast as they chatted pleasantly about the spring planting. The morning sun streamed into the cabin and painted the dirt floor yellow. Frena stoked the fire and stirred the porridge. Everything felt normal and ordinary. Except for Catrina’s heart. She looked back out the window. The clearing between her and Eli felt as empty and distant as she did. Had she done the right thing to stay away from him? Of course she had. She had no other choice.
Catrina rested her elbows on the windowsill and leaned her chin on her hands as she stared at Eli’s cabin. Gertrud emerged from the door with a wooden yoke on her shoulders. She steadied the two buckets that hung from the yoke as she swept across the clearing and plunged into the woods. Catrina sighed. She knew why Gertrud wanted her to stay away. That was the worst part of it all. Catrina believed that Gertrud was right. Or, if not right, she was afraid that Gertrud was at least justified. She was only trying to protect her brother.
That was what made it so painful. Catrina could not even blame Gertrud. Catrina wondered if she would do the same thing if she were in Gertrud’s place. She felt the shame of her past whispering over her shoulders and settling against her back like a dark cloak. How she wanted to tear it off, fling it away, and be free of it all!
No, she realized, she would not do the same thing as Gertrud. For the black mark she wore only clung to women and she would not stand for that. He had done worse than she, for he had convinced her to go with him. He had instigated it all. But only she suffered the penalty. He had suffered no penalty at all. Worse, he had been congratulated in some social circles—unsavory circles mind you, but still.
She would not blame herself more than others blamed him. But she also would not grow bitter over what she could not change. It was unjust that she bore the blame alone, but life was unjust.
Instead of dwelling on that she would think of the good. She would think of the future.
She would believe in redemption, for redemption was real. Catrina knew because she had experienced it. She was not the same person that she had been in the fall, when she first arrived in New Canaan and tried to snare Jacob Miller. And she most certainly was not the same person as when she made that terrible decision in Philadelphia with him.
The problem with redemption was that it occurred in the heart, in secret places where no one else could see. Catrina let out a low, ironic laugh. If only redemption showed on the skin! If only it left a physical mark to show the world that one had been remade.
The thought occurred to her that because he had not taken any blame, he had not realized his need for redemption. He would go on living the meaningless, riotous life of a rake. Perhaps, all things considered, life was more unjust to him. For he would never know he needed to change and would miss out on all the peace and fulfillment that she had found because of her fall.
“What is it?” Frena asked from across the cabin.
“What is what?”
“You laughed.”
“Oh.” Catrina had not meant to laugh out loud. She bit her lip and pushed away from the windowsill. “Do you mind if I go ahead and leave for the worship service? I feel too restless to wait this morning.”
Georg swallowed a mouthful of porridge and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “What she means is that she has not seen Eli in a week and does not want to wait any longer.”
Frena smiled. “Go on. We’ll see you there.”
Catrina did not respond to her grandfather’s good-natured comment about Eli. She wanted to spill out her feelings and tell her grandparents everything that Gertrud had said to her. But that would mean bringing up her past. And that would just make her feel even more ashamed. Some things were best left unsaid, even if she had to navigate the situation on her own. Days like this she felt like a ghost ship on a vast and endless sea, sailing alone, into nothingness. How could she do the right thing when she could not even ask for advice?
Well, it could not be helped. She had shut the door on her past and that door must stay shut. She would not remind her family of what she had done by telling them about Gertrud’s demands. And so Catrina kept her mouth closed as she tied the ribbon of her scoop under her chin and fastened her leather shoes. She pulled at one of her woolen hose to straighten the wrinkles and marched out the door without saying another word.
Her heart thudded into her shoes and shot back to her chest when she passed through the threshold and looked beyond the field. There was Eli, walking away from his cabin. He seemed small and alone against the backdrop of towering pines and vast, empty sky. Catrina smoothed her apron and scanned the Webber yard. She did not see Gertrud. Everything in her shouted to run toward Eli and tell him how she felt. But she warned herself to be cautious. She could not afford to throw her reputation away after she had finally regained it.
Eli had been looking at the ground as he walked and his face rose to meet her gaze. Catrina watched him from across the field that separated them. She did not lower her eyes. She stared back at him with all the intensity and longing that she felt digging into her heart.
Eli stopped walking and they stared at each other without moving for a moment, both waiting for the other to come forward. Neither did. Catrina wondered what he was thinking. He had not come to her. An entire week had passed since she saw him last and he did not come to her door and ask why. He had let her stay away from him.
She sensed he wanted to speak to her. She could see it in the way his eyes met hers, in the way his body had jerked to a halt when he saw her. Her heart warmed as they continued to stare at each other.
A child’s voice drifted from the wooded footpath and through the field. The noise broke the spell and Catrina knew that she could not bear it any longer. If Gertrud told Eli the truth, then so be it. Love was worth the risk. Love was worth everything. What good was redemption if she did not use it for love? Catrina gathered her skirts and began to walk toward Eli. Her feet picked up speed as she strode across the field, until she was running toward the man she loved. She felt as if the earth pushed her forward every time her shoes hit the ground.
A look of amazement and joy spread across Eli’s face. And then he was running too. Catrina could feel her heart pounding against her breastbone. Her breath came in ragged gasps. And then he was there. His body shuddered to a stop and they stood, face-to-face, in the middle of the field. She started to throw her arms around his neck and pull him close, but she stopped herself.
The moment turned awkward. Why had she run to him like that? Why had she made such a forward display of her feelings? Catrina swallowed. Her gaze fell to his feet. His leather shoes had been polished to a shine. She wanted to say a thousand things. She said nothing.
“Catrina?”
She raised her eyes to his.
“Catrina.” He said the words with reverence. He was not asking her to speak. He simply wanted to say her name. She understood. In that strange moment, it almost felt that neither of them were real.
“I did not want to stay away.” There, she had said it. She would tell him. She would tell him everything. Let the consequences rest with der Herr.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. His hand moved across the back of his neck in an anxious, restless motion. “I did not want you to.”
“You aren’t like other men.”
Eli looked confused. He started to smile, then shrugged. “No.”
Catrina shook her head. “It is a good thing.”
“Ah.”
Catrina smiled and Eli’s face brightened. “I would tell you that you are not like other women, but that would make me like other men, wouldn’t it? I am sure they say those things to you often.”
Catrina eased closer to Eli. She could sense the steady rhythm of his chest, rising and falling. He smelled like wood smoke and pine. “But when you say it I know that you mean it.”
Eli gave her a wonderful, shining smile. He looked completely happy. “In that case, you are not like other women.”
“I have played games with other men. I’ve been coy and flirtatious, and hinted that they should pursue me. I tried to do that with you last week. I tried to signal to you.”
Eli swallowed again.
“But I don’t want to play games anymore. I want to tell you plainly. I care for you, Eli Webber. There, I’ve said it. I’ve never come out and said such a thing before.” She laughed. “But I don’t think you will believe me if I don’t say it plainly.”
Eli’s hand found hers. His skin felt warm and rough and wonderfully familiar. “I might not have.” His grin looked boyish and surprised, as if he could not quite believe it still. Could life really be so generous? “Not when you are so beautiful and I am so, well . . . the way I am.”
Catrina laughed again. “I love you because you are the way you are.” She sucked her breath in through her teeth and clamped her free hand over her mouth. She had not meant to go that far! She had not meant to say the word love!
Eli’s eyes sparked. He tightened his grip on her hand. “You do?”
Catrina swallowed. She stared into his blue eyes and nodded. “Ja.”
Eli’s face took on an intense expression. “And I love you.” He looked more serious than she had ever seen him.
Catrina felt as if she might float away. Everything within her wanted to dance and shout and sing. She had found him! She had found the man who would love her for who she was. Only one thought kept her grounded to the earth. She had to tell him the truth about her past. If he truly loved her, he would understand. And if he didn’t . . .
Eli stood and stared at her as if he still could not quite believe what had happened. He shook his head and broke into the brightest grin Catrina had ever seen. He took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and replaced his hat. Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He nodded. “There is only one thing to do.”
“What?” A small, impossible hope crept into Catrina’s heart. Would he? Would he really?
“Marry me.”
He really would.