Chapter Twenty-One

Catrina could not sleep that night. She was exhausted from the harvest, but her mind would not rest. She kept agonizing over her decision to protect Eli from the truth. Catrina wondered for the thousandth time if she had done the right thing to give Gertrud her way. Gertrud knew her brother well, so perhaps she did know what was best.

And yet, Catrina could not ignore the churning inside her heart. She could not bear to withhold the truth from the man she loved. She did not know what to do. She did not know what was best for him.

By morning, she decided she could bear it no longer. She would tell him everything. Even if it hurt him. She wanted to feel good about her decision, but she did not. She felt more conflicted than ever.

At sunrise, Eli surprised Catrina by suggesting a walk in the woods. Her stomach jumped. Perhaps it was meant to be—perhaps she was supposed to tell him everything. His suggestion felt providential. Yes, she would tell him everything. There, she had decided. Relief spread through her. “I was going to suggest a walk if you did not,” Catrina said as they set off through a grove of hemlock. “I would like to speak with you about . . . something.” Eli nodded but did not reply. His expression changed and he looked distracted as they wandered through the woods and along the creek. His foot slipped in the mud and he slid down the bank as his arms windmilled. He splashed into the water, but managed to stay upright. Catrina laughed as he brushed his woolen hose and grinned at her. “You can’t wipe water away.”

“No.” His grin widened. “But I can try.”

This was the Eli that Catrina had married. Not the strained, taciturn man who hid behind his loom when Gertrud’s sharp tongue whipped through the cabin. Catrina’s smile faded. She should say something. Eli bounded up the bank, slid on the wet earth for a moment, then regained traction and hurtled himself past the mud. He nodded and offered Catrina his arm. “All right, then. Back to our stroll.”

Catrina laughed, then stopped. She had to tell him now. “Eli?”

“Ja?” A rabbit bounded over a fallen log, darted across their path, then disappeared behind an oak tree. Eli’s head shifted to follow the movement.

“Eli?” Catrina tapped his arm with her free hand. “Are you listening?”

“Ja. Of course.”

Catrina could tell that he was not. If she did not know better, Catrina would think he knew what she was going to say and was trying to avoid the subject. Perhaps she should avoid it too. Perhaps Gertrud was right. Was she about to hurt Eli unnecessarily? No, dash it all, she had decided to tell him. She would tell him. “I need to talk to you about something that you will not want to hear.” She felt the muscles in his arm stiffen.

He cleared his throat. “Have you ever seen a sky so blue?”

Catrina leaned her head back and looked through the canopy. Pockets of blue peeked through the branches like a bright, shimmering tablecloth beneath dark lace. She frowned and looked back at the ground in front of her feet. She was likely to fall if she continued to look up while moving forward. “It is lovely, but that is not what I wanted to talk about.”

Eli sighed. “No. Of course not.” His shoulders slouched. “You wanted to talk about me.” Catrina heard a small crack in his voice. He suddenly looked small, despite being so tall and gangly.

“No. I need to talk to you about what happened. . . .” She did not know what to say. All of her courage drained out of her body and soaked into the forest floor. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “I worry that . . . You should know . . .” What if Gertrud was right and this would only cause more pain? What if she went to the bishop? What if she twisted Catrina’s story into something worse? Catrina hesitated. Was she being selfish to purge her conscience? Was it kinder to protect him from the truth and carry the pain alone, forever?

Eli nodded. His face turned grim. The muscles in his jaw worked even though his mouth stayed closed. “You deserve better,” he said finally.

“What? No.” Catrina felt shocked. How could he think that? He was the one who deserved better. She shook her head. “Oh, Eli.”

“I’ve needed to tell you that I . . .” He licked his lips and turned his face away. His mouth opened, then closed again.

Catrina thought that he must be referring to the awkward moment at Abram’s when he did not defend her to Gertrud. Catrina was hurt, but she could not bear to see Eli so broken up about it. He must have been feeling guilty about it since yesterday afternoon. “She’s your sister, I understand that. But that’s not what . . .” Catrina felt the conversation slipping away from her. She had not wanted to make it about Gertrud. She had wanted to address the root of her own problem, not make Eli feel bad because he fell short during one stressful conversation.

“No.” He shook his head again, but more slowly this time. It was a sad, defeated movement. “You cannot understand.”

“I could if you would tell me.” Catrina meant it in a supportive way, but the words sounded flat when she said them, probably because she felt ashamed. He was trying to apologize to her at the very moment when she had failed to share her own shame with him. She felt like a bad person, a bad wife. She knew that she was being too hard on herself, but she did not know how to go easier on herself. After two years of regret, her opinion of herself was not high.

Eli flinched. He opened his mouth to speak but Catrina interrupted before he could talk. “I’m sorry. I did not mean it the way it sounded. You have your reasons, I’m sure.” She wished that she had said nothing. It had been foolish to try and tell him the secret that Gertrud had begged her not to tell. She had upset Eli and she had not even gotten to the upsetting part of the conversation! She sighed and looked back up at the sky. “It is a very lovely blue.”

Eli’s face relaxed. His jaw stopped clenching. “Yes,” he said. “It is.”

Eli had been determined to speak to Catrina. He wanted to tell her why he could not stand up to Gertrud. He wanted to explain everything—every last detail of what he had done and why he owed his sister everything. Perhaps if he told her, the guilt would stop eating him alive. Or perhaps Catrina would realize that she had married someone who did not deserve her.

He had decided to start by apologizing for his lack of backbone at the flax harvest and go from there. But, that had not happened. He had become flustered and tongue-tied. He had acted like, well, like himself. Dash it all, he could not go on like this. He couldn’t tell her and he couldn’t not tell her. Eli took off his beaver-felt hat and ran his fingers through his hair. It was impossible.

He could hear the spinning wheels through the open window. He could not bear to follow Catrina back into the cabin. Not yet. He had failed to tell her anything. Worse, she had seemed distant and upset throughout their walk. He didn’t blame her. What kind of man let his sister criticize his wife? If only he could have explained better.

But explaining meant telling her everything. And how could he do that? How could he look into those wide, innocent eyes and tell her what kind of man he really was?

And so he had talked of the sky and the weather. Eli shook his head. He had failed. Again. He could feel Catrina pull away from him emotionally. It was all his fault. He would have to try harder.