Matthias sank on the bed and dropped his face into his hands. Alanna. He’d finally found her. But what was he to do about it now? He’d known things were different the moment he stepped into the kitchen earlier and saw Opal working at the counter. The sight of her there was like coming home. He belonged with this woman, and every part of him knew it.
And every part of him loved that fact, all the way until he’d read Alanna’s words about the healing springs in Canada. Healing was what she needed, but the primitive mountain country in Canada was the last thing Opal needed. She craved protection. Wanted to be secreted away in a safe little hamlet. Just going with him for a ride through the mountains was enough excitement for her. The reminder of their race on the way back from her cousin’s home made his mouth pull into a bit of grin.
But it faded quickly. He couldn’t drag Opal through the months of mountain travel to reach Canada, then settle her in a primitive country where they probably didn’t even have access to mail service. There was no telling how far Alanna had been forced to travel to send him word.
Yet he had to go to his sister. He’d sworn to himself over and over that if he ever found Alanna, he’d never let them be separated by distance again. He’d always keep family near.
God, what would you have me do? He raised his face upward, his gaze seeking out the grain in the wooden ceiling. Should I go to Alanna or stay with Opal? No answer boomed in a voice of thunder. No heavenly hand appeared to write a response on the wooden beams.
Sinking back against the soft cotton of the quilt, he lay on his back and let his mind ponder. He had to go to Alanna. There was really no question there. She was his sister. His blood relative. And if she was sick, she would need someone to look after her. Old Uncle Enoch wouldn’t be able to accomplish the job suitably. The aged man probably needed looking after himself.
So…his only other option with Opal was to ask her to go with him. If she’d agree, they could be married here in Mountain Bluff, then head northward. This journey was sure to be quite a wedding trip.
Opal balanced a platter in each hand as she pushed the door open with her hip. The stewed meat smelled perfectly scrumptious, yet her stomach had churned itself into a tight knot.
“Let me have those.”
She jumped at the voice, then eased out a breath as she looked over at Matthias.
He was striding toward her with purpose marking the set of his shoulders. She allowed him to take one of the platters, then carried the other to the table herself. “Mrs. S. just went to call everyone for dinner.”
“I know. And I told her you and I would be taking our meal out of doors. How soon can you be ready?”
She paused and looked at him. Maybe his expression would give a hint as to what in the land of the saints he was talking about.
His face held a self-assured grin.
“Ready for what?”
“We’re going for a ride.”
“In the cold?” She shot a glance toward the window. The light outside was turning a dusky hue, which meant the temperature would be dropping quickly, too. Not that she should argue against time alone with Matthias.
She turned back to him. “Would you rather we eat in the kitchen?” Or maybe he wanted a quiet place to kiss her. Her pulsed kicked up just thinking about it.
And from the way one corner of his mouth tipped higher than the other, he could read her thoughts.
Perhaps she should go along with what he asked. Although, she’d not go forward blindly. She didn’t completely trust her self-control when she was in this man’s arms.
“I should check with Mrs. S. to see if ’tis all right if we’re not present for the meal.”
He moved toward her. “I already did. She said she’ll be glad to be rid of us.” Taking her shoulders, he turned her toward the stairs. “Go do whatever you need to be ready. I’ll pack some food.”
She followed his nudge toward the stairs. The meal was set for the Shumeisters to sit down and eat, and she’d need to add some extra woolen layers under her skirt if they were going to ride as the sun dipped behind the horizon.
In a matter of minutes, Matthias was sitting bareback atop his gelding. In his buckskin breeches and sitting astride, he looked like one of the Roman gods she remembered from the paintings that had lined the library walls at Riverdale. Possessing a strength one could only imagine.
“Grip my arm and I’ll pull you up.”
She obeyed his directive, and the effort to lift her seemed to barely faze him. As though she weighed nothing more than his saddle pack.
She settled her skirts to cover her legs and scooted a little to put a respectable distance between them. Yet with the slope of Karl’s back, ’twas hard not to slide back down against Matthias.
“Ready?”
“When you are.”
The horse jolted as he started forward, and she scrambled to grab Matthias’s side to keep herself from falling backward.
He chuckled and took one of her hands, then placed it so she hugged his body. “’Tis all right to hold on.”
She did the same with her other and tried to relax into the rhythm of Karl’s stride.
As the trail climbed, the shadows of dusk lengthened, casting an almost surreal pall over the landscape.
“Where are we going?” She straightened to see the trail over Matthias’s broad shoulder.
“Almost there.” Although something in his tone made her think he wished their destination were much farther. Maybe all the way north to Canada.
At least his deep contemplation from earlier had given way to his usual good humor.
When they reached a little open area, he reined in the gelding beside a large rock. “Here’s a good spot.” That rock would provide a nice table.
She slid from the horse’s back, and he did the same, then she opened the satchel he’d prepared and laid out the food. They’d need to eat with their hands it seemed, as he’d not packed any forks, but the company would be worth any minor inconvenience.
After he spoke a simple prayer to bless the food, they started into the meal. A silence settled over them and seemed to grow thicker with each bite. She should say something, but nothing sprang to mind, save the topic of his sister and his impending journey. And the thought of hearing him say he was leaving was more than she could bear just now. ’Twas hard enough getting down the tiny bites she managed to swallow.
At last, he finished his helping and wiped his hands on the cloth he’d stuffed in the pack. When he offered it to her, she took the rag and did the same.
He raised his brows at the food still left on her dish. “Not hungry?”
“Not much.” She started to wrap it back up. She had a feeling he was getting ready to tell her his plans, and the last thing she wanted was for the smell of the meat to mix with her roiling nerves and resurrect what little she’d eaten.
He waited until she’d repacked their entire food bundle. There was nothing left for her to do now without making her avoidance obvious. She forced herself to meet his gaze with as convincing a smile as she could muster. “You’re going to Canada, aren’t you?”
His eyes grew fathomless, the green in them so deep, if she sank into them she would never resurface. “I need to.” He paused long enough for the silence to tighten in her middle. “Which means I have a question for you.”
Taking her hand in his, he threaded her fingers through his own. “I’d like you to go with me. I’d like you to marry me. Will you?” He never took those piercing eyes from hers, locking her tight within their depths.
She struggled to draw in breath. Worked hard to focus on his words. On the deeper meaning of all he was asking. “Marry you?”
That was what she’d wanted. But to move north? Into the wilderness. She dropped her gaze to their joined hands, focusing on the way their fingers wove together in an easy pattern. Could she go to a place completely unknown? Not even in the same country. How could she go so far from Tori and little Ruby? And the Shumeisters. How could she leave this life she’d come to love? This safety.
“I know it would be hard,” he said. “But no matter what we face, I’d keep you safe, I promise. And I’ll build you a good home. I’ll make you happy. You have my troth.”
His words seemed to die away, and she kept her focus on their joined fingers. She loved this man more than she’d ever thought possible. Could she give up everything else in her life she loved, just to be his wife?
“If you need time to think about it, I understand. I should leave within the next few days, but take until then if you need it.” He paused, and she could hear his long exhale. “I know I’m asking a lot, Opal. But I love you. I can’t imagine leaving without asking—praying—you’ll marry me.”
She did look up at him then. Saw the raw emotion raging in his eyes. Felt the burn stinging her own. “I know you need to find your sister, Matthias. But I don’t think I can go with you. I don’t think I can leave my own family, these people. I’m sorry.”
She looked away, fighting to hold back the surge of tears. She wouldn’t be able to restrain them long, though. Gripping the satchel with the remnants of their meal, she stood and headed toward the horse. “We should go back now. ’Tis almost dark.”
Matthias left. Less than twelve hours after she’d said she wouldn’t marry him, he rode out of her life forever.
Opal forced the knife through the thick potato. She shouldn’t be surprised he’d departed so soon. After all, if his sister were very ill, every day might determine whether he saw her before the worst happened. Yet she couldn’t stop the way his sudden leaving fractured her heart a little deeper. He’d not lingered in case she changed her mind.
Holding the half piece of potato over the stew pot, she diced it into smaller pieces that landed in the water with a plunk. Something else she couldn’t stop was the question which had echoed through her all morning. Had she made the wrong choice? Each time the thought pulsed through her, it raised the burn tears to her eyes. How could she have let Matthias ride out of her life? Could she really just carry on as though she’d never met him? Maybe she should ride out and catch up to him. There was still time for her to purchase a horse from the livery—Butter, if Mr. Lefton would allow it—and catch up with Matthias. Yet, could she bring herself to leave everything that made her feel so safe? If only she could talk through this with someone.
Mrs. S. bustled through the kitchen door, a wooden crate in her arms. “Zis should carry us through another week.” She plopped the crate on the table with a thunk, then propped her fists on her ample hips and turned to survey the room.
Opal spun back to the potatoes she was slicing. Her eyes were probably red-rimmed, which the older woman would spot immediately. Even though part of her wanted someone to confide in, she wouldn’t be able to get through the whole dilemma without tears taking over.
The swish of skirts behind her gave the barest warning before warm, strong hands rested on her shoulders, turning her around. Opal let them pull her, reluctantly meeting Mrs. S.’s searching gaze. Except she couldn’t quite meet those all-seeing eyes, so she focused on the cleft of her chin.
“Liebling. What is it?”
The gentle concern in her tone was more than Opal’s defenses could withstand. She gathered a fortifying breath and told Mrs. S. about declining Matthias’s proposal.
The older woman listened, her thin lips pressed together and her eyes taking every nuance of Opal’s story. “And you are sad about your choice?”
Opal nodded. “I wanted to say yes. But I don’t want to leave here. I’m happy with you and Mr. S. And I love the baking.”
Mrs. S. waved the comments away. “Posh. Ve are two old people. You must not zink of us when you decide about ze rest of your life. Tell me now…what does your Heavenly Father say?”
She nibbled the edge of her lip. “I’m not sure. I’ve asked Him, of course. But He’s not made my answer clear. I feel like it would be foolish to choose a man over my family and friends.” She motioned around the room. “And this wonderful life He’s given me. How could I leave it?” After meeting Mrs. S.’s gaze again, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “Even for Matthias.” Yet, why did she feel like she was trying to convince herself? The very thought of leaving this place was preposterous.
“Do you love ze man?” Mrs. S. backed away and held her with those sharp eyes.
“I think so, but it doesn’t—”
“What keeps you from marrying him zen?”
She glared at the woman. Had Mrs. S not heard a word she’d said? “He’s left for Canada. If I married him, I’d be leaving everything I know and love, all my family and friends.”
Mrs. S. still gripped Opal’s shoulders, but she slid her hold down to unwrap Opal’s arms, taking each hand in her own. “When Gunther and I were first married, we lived in a little village north of Dresden. We had a nice life there, starting our bakery and enjoying all our neighbors. I thought we would be happy there always.”
Opal sank back against the counter behind her, settling into the chance to divert her weary thoughts.
“But zen Gunther’s brother sent us a letter from America, telling us all ze wonderful stories of zis place. He would read ze letter to me each night, and we would imagine new parts to his stories. To me, it was a game we shared. But zen one evening, Gunther took my hands and said he thought God was calling us to go to America. First, I thought he was telling a joke. Zen I was afraid. How could God want me to leave my happy life?”
Her eyes glazed as she seemed to sink into the memories, and Opal couldn’t help the overwhelming love for this woman that washed through her chest. Her life had been similar to Opal’s in some ways, except she’d already been married to Mr. Shumeister at the time of their move. She’d already promised her life to him, to follow wherever he felt God leading them.
But Opal had been ready to marry Matthias before the telegraph from his sister. She’d wanted to commit her life in that same way. Yet, had she known what it would cost her…
“My Gunther was patient with me, but he felt God’s calling so strongly. I thought he’d gone cuckoo.”
Opal couldn’t help but return the woman’s soft smile.
“But zen God reminded me of ze Scripture where He says there is a time for everything under ze sun. I knew zat my time in Germany was done. When I told Gunther we could follow his dream, such happiness came over him, I knew I had been wrong to withhold it. God had us in His hand. He put us together. He gave ze dream of America to my husband. And He would give us blessings in ze new land.”
Mrs. S. squeezed her hands. “And you, my Opal, are one of ze blessings he has given us. But I am reminded again zat He has a time for planting, and a time for plucking up. If He has called you to be plucked, He will take care of you wherever He plants you again.”
She raised her hand to rest on Opal’s cheek. The warmth of her work-roughened palm seeped in like a comforting blanket. “You will always have our love, no matter here or in Canada. But if your heart is with ze man who rode away zis morning, you’d best get your horse and go after him.”
A time to be plucked. Somehow the idea didn’t sound quite so terrifying as it had that morning—or the night before.