12
For weeks, Jean-Michel had watched and waited for this moment. To be honest, he’d been waiting for years to see her face again.
He grabbed his cane and walked across the crowded dining room.
Katherine.
His Katherine.
His friend and confidante. His first and only love. She was here.
He heard Collette’s voice behind him, but he was drawn forward. Conversations and silverware clinking on plates surrounded him as he walked, but none of it mattered.
The head waiter gestured with his arm and appeared to be about to seat the two ladies at a table off by themselves when he noticed Jean-Michel’s approach and gave him an odd expression. “Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening.” Jean-Michel couldn’t take his eyes off Katherine’s now that he was close to her.
The waiter cleared his throat. “Do you know the senator’s wife?” The starched-uniformed man tilted his head.
“I do indeed.”
“Well, I don’t.” Collette’s voice behind him shocked him out of his stare.
The waiter raised both eyebrows. “Would you like for me to find a table that would accommodate the whole party, sir?”
“No, that’s not necessary.” Jean-Michel shook his head, although he would have loved nothing more than to share the evening with Katherine. However, considering the scared look in Katherine’s eyes, he knew it was the right decision. It was best not to overwhelm her, even though every instinct within him was crying out to spend every moment with her. “Katherine—excuse me, Mrs. Demarchis—please allow me to introduce you to my sister, Collette Langelier.”
The dazed look left Katherine’s eyes as she looked over at Collette. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from . . . your brother. Let me introduce you to my grandmother, Mrs. Maria Harrison.”
Collette nodded politely. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
“You remember Grandmother, don’t you?” Katherine looked at Jean-Michel.
He nodded at Maria Harrison. The woman behind their trip to Alaska gave away nothing. So he decided to keep his mouth shut as well. But the twinkle in her eye told him she was pleased. And his message had been received. He was here for Katherine. “I do. It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Harrison.”
“And you, my dear boy. It’s been some time. Five years, I think, since we last saw each other. I believe it was at a dance.”
“Oui. Yes.”
“Katherine and I have already run into others we’ve known. On one of our tours we found ourselves in the company of the Whitmores, and they live just down the street from me. I thought it all very strange to go hundreds of miles away only to have dinner with my neighbors.”
“It is a small world sometimes.”
“Very small,” Katherine murmured.
As much as Jean-Michel longed to remain in her company, he gave a little bow. “Don’t let us keep you from your dinner, we must be getting back to ours as well. It is quite delicious. We had the fish.” He nodded to the two ladies, turned, and walked back to their table.
Once he had seated Collette again, he took his own chair and tried not to look at Katherine each second. It took every ounce of determination he had.
“So that senator’s wife—” Collette began.
“Widow,” he corrected. Probably a bit too abruptly.
“All right, that senator’s widow . . . is Katherine. The Katherine you wanted to marry all those years ago?”
He nodded and cut another bite of salmon, using every bit of his energy to appear normal.
“Sensationnel. Je n’en avais aucune idée.” She sat back in her chair in a stunned manner.
Instead of correcting her to speak English, Jean-Michel was relieved the other patrons didn’t understand her words. They’d already drawn enough attention. He was quite shocked himself and knew his sister had no idea that they’d ever run into Katherine. Besides, he didn’t have Mrs. Harrison’s permission to share their secret.
He couldn’t look up at Collette. Or at Katherine. Too afraid his feelings would be obvious. Instead, he focused on his plate and his glass of water.
“Lâche.”
“Excuse me?” Jean-Michel lifted his gaze to see his sister’s smirk.
“I believe the Americans like to use the phrase . . . ‘scaredy cat’?” She giggled. “You’ve attacked your plate with gusto—never once looking up. I know you. And don’t look now, but she’s watched you the entire time.”
Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Collette was correct. He was afraid. Scared of messing it all up—of saying the wrong thing. He used his linen napkin to wipe his mouth and then set it on the table. “I’m finished. Are you ready to go up?”
“Not a chance.” She set her napkin down as well. “I think I’d like to go for a walk.”
“Of course.” He stood and offered her his arm.
As they exited the dining room, Jean-Michel looked over at Katherine and smiled. Her eyes had lost the fearful look but now had a guarded appearance. How could he change that?
How could he help her?
The thoughts tumbled over one another in his mind as they walked on a trail behind the hotel to the river, his sister taking slower steps as she stayed at his side. One day, he wanted to venture across the suspension bridge, but he was waiting for his leg to strengthen a bit more.
At the edge of the river, Collette finally stopped and spoke. “I know I’m your little sister and you’ve tried to protect me from all the ugliness you faced. But I know about your nightmares, Jean-Michel. I’ve been in your room almost every night after you cry out to try to help you calm down. I feared you might awaken the other guests.”
He opened his mouth to question her, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Please, let me finish. I know I’ve been selfish and childish and I’m still very young in your eyes. But seeing you suffer has changed me. I want to help. And with everything in me, I believe that beautiful woman in there can help too. Am I correct?”
He shook his head and walked closer to the water. “There’s so much you don’t know, Collette.” He sighed. “I am crippled and war-torn now. A lot has happened to both of us over the past five years.”
“But you love her . . . I can see it on your face.”
The water flowed by and he kicked a rock into it. Dare he admit it? “Yes. I love her. As much as I ever did before.”
“Then you must do whatever you can to win her over. She’s a widow and free to love again. Maybe she never stopped loving you to begin with.” Collette smiled. “I believe love can do wonders to heal a person.”
Jean-Michel looked at her and shook his head. “And what would you know of love?”
She shrugged. “Enough to know it has the power to change a person—to change everything.”
Grandmother paced the floor, this time in Katherine’s room. “So you refuse to talk about it?”
Katherine pulled the brush through her long hair. So many of the other women were cutting their hair, but she’d kept hers long all because Jean-Michel had told her years ago that he loved her long hair. “No, I’m not saying that I refuse to talk about it. I just don’t know what to think or feel. That was quite a surprise.”
“I understand the shock, my dear. I do. But did you see his face? He still cares for you.”
For twenty minutes her grandmother had worked to get her to open up. Enough was enough. “Of course, I saw his face, Grandmother! I couldn’t help looking at him every chance I had.” The tears she’d held in check since seeing Jean-Michel started in earnest now. “I know you mean well, but all these questions are just making it worse.”
The older woman sat down on the chair. Her mouth dropped open and then shut.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out. But don’t you understand? Don’t you see? I’ve never stopped loving him. I am so ashamed. I was married and I was still in love with Jean-Michel. What does that say about me?”
“It says that you should never have been parted from one another. Your husband . . . he knew you didn’t love him. He knew you didn’t wish to marry him and yet he imposed marriage upon you anyway.”
“He imposed a great deal on me, but it doesn’t change the facts. It is my great shame and I will carry that to the grave.”
Grandmother looked at her for a moment. “Did your husband know you loved another?”
“Yes.” Katherine twisted her hands together. “I told him the first time we were left alone to discuss our engagement. I made it clear that I didn’t wish to marry him—that I was in love with another man. At first, he was ever so gentle and kind. He told me that arranged marriages often separated first loves, but that our love would soon blossom and surpass whatever it was that I thought I had with Jean-Michel. That was his game. He was a complete gentleman before we married. Afterward, however, he often berated me for the love I held for Jean-Michel.”
“But he knew the truth. You kept nothing from him and therefore should bear no shame or guilt. You were ripped from the arms of the man you loved and forced into a most unholy union. That was never your choice. You honored your marriage vows and now you are released. You owe it to yourself to rekindle what you once had with Jean-Michel.”
“But I can never marry again. Never! Not after what I went through with . . . him.”
A knock at the door startled her and she put a hand to her forehead. It was all just too much to bear. She longed for a hot bath and bed.
Grandmother rose and went over and opened the door. “Yes? . . . Thank you.” She closed the door. “There’s a note here for you.”
Katherine took the envelope and recognized instantly the handwriting on the outside. Jean-Michel. She ran a hand over it. If only they could turn back time. But they couldn’t. She lifted the seal and pulled out the note.
Katherine,
I was hoping I could convince you to take a walk with me tomorrow. The wild flowers here are beautiful and I know you would enjoy them.
It was lovely to see you again. I pray you are well.
Jean-Michel
“He’s asked me for a walk.”
“How kind.” Grandmother stood and went toward the bathroom that divided their rooms. “I’ll give you some time to yourself. I’m really rather tired. I think I’ll turn in early. I love you, my dear.”
“I love you too.” Katherine picked up a piece of stationery and a pen to write a reply. The daylight hours were so long now, she could never tell what time it was. But a glance at the clock informed her it was already 8:00 p.m.
Staring out the window once again, she didn’t know what to say.
There’d been a time that the words would have flowed and she wouldn’t have stopped until she’d written ten pages. But those days were gone. And even though she still loved him, she’d better take this opportunity to tell him the truth. If he still cared for her as Grandmother suggested, then it was better this way. She would be honest with him and he would have his disappointment and leave her for someone better suited to share his life. Yes, it was better this way—but better for whom, she couldn’t say.
A walk would be nice. How about 1:00 p.m.?
Katherine
What would he think of her if he knew the whole truth? Would he believe the same things Randall did? It didn’t really matter anymore, because no matter how much she still loved him, her life was a pile of ashes. God may have forgiven her and made her new, but how could she ask forgiveness of Jean-Michel?
Tomorrow she would have to find the words to tell him.