Searching for Anna, Jenifer Carll-Tong [cheapest way to read ebooks TXT] 📗

today was Sunday. She couldn't very well ban him from church. At least he hoped she couldn't.

So, here he stood, excited and anxious all at the same time, with no idea how she would react to his presence. However, he knew that if he didn't start working his way back into her life, he might never find a way into her heart.

Sun broke through the clouds and reflected off the tall windows of the church, reminding him of that early Monday morning. He smiled at the memory of her atop that rickety contraption. His Phoebe certainly had a resourcefulness that most women lacked, if not the gracefulness to accompany it.

She also had quite the temper.

"What are you doing here?" she had asked immediately after recognizing him.

Will set her back down on her feet and shrugged his shoulders. "This is my new post."

"Your new post? But – when did you arrive?"

"A little over two months ago."

She stood there staring at him, cheeks flushed, tiny wisps of hair blowing across her forehead. Her perfect lips parted, but no words came out.

The desire to kiss her was strong, but instead, he just said, "Phoebe, you are going to catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that."

As soon as the words left his lips, he knew he had made a mistake. Her mouth slowly closed, and the color of her cheeks increased to a bright red.

"So, you are telling me that you have been here the whole time?" she asked through gritted teeth. "You knew this was your post and you never said a word? Is that why you never wrote to tell us where you were? Do you know how worried I – we all were?"

"I wrote your father, and I wrote John."

"My father knew? How long has he known?" she asked, turning from him. But before Will had a chance to answer, she whipped back around. "That morning! When you came to see my father…you told him then. That's why you came to my parent's house?"

"Yes," he said.

"And when I saw you at John and Esther's, you told them also?"

"I spoke with John, yes. I can only assume he told Esther. I didn't ask him not to. The only person I asked him not to tell was you."

"Well, of course you did!" she said, her voice rising to meet the color of her cheeks. "Why would anyone tell me, the only person that this information would affect?"

As angry as she was, he knew she didn't want the whole town to see her like this. "Phoebe, please calm down. People are going to hear you."

His assumption was right, because she turned toward the parsonage and motioned for him to follow, which he did dutifully. She kept quiet, but only until he had closed the door behind them.

"How dare you! How dare you deceive me like this?" she screamed.

"Phoebe, I never lied to you."

"You omitted the truth. That is the same as lying."

"When did I omit the truth?"

"That night – when you asked me to take a walk with you. You had every opportunity to tell me then that you'd been stationed in Iron Falls, but you didn't!"

"I wanted to tell you, Pheebs…"

"Don't call me that!" she interrupted.

"Phoebe," he began again, "I really wanted to tell you. I wanted so badly to tell you. I had spent every waking hour since that dinner with your family praying that God would show me what was best for you. Like Gideon, I laid a fleece before Him. I told him that if you asked me where I was going, that I would tell you. I also said that if you showed me any sign of tenderness, if you gave me any hope that you had any feelings for me, then I would tell you. But you did neither, so I had my answer."

"And His answer was to deceive me?"

"His answer was to go to Iron Falls, not knowing what decision you would make, and trust Him to take care of the rest. It isn't for me to question God when he answers my prayers, Phoebe. It is only for me to honor His will."

His heart wrenched at the look of pain that contorted her face. "No wonder everyone's attitude changed. Esther, my mother – all that talk about God providing protection for me. They were talking about you!"

"Yes, that's probably true, though I can't speak for them."

"Apparently, they can't speak for themselves, either, since everyone was so tight-lipped about the whole matter!" She paced the floor, arms crossed around her waist, shaking her head. "I cannot believe that no one, not a single person who claims to love me, thought that I could do this on my own. How weak they must all think me." Her voice cracked as those last words caught in her throat.

"No, Phoebe, oh no. That isn't how it is at all," he said. "I will admit that my being here has probably helped to lessen your mother's worry, but that doesn't mean that anyone thought you too weak for the task." He reached for her elbow, but she yanked it away.

"Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me!" she yelled, tears falling freely down her face. "No matter what any of you think, I am capable, and I don't need your coddling."

She walked to the door and opened it. "You need to leave," she stated without looking at him.

"Please, Phoebe. Don't do this."

"Go! I want you to leave and I don't want you bothering me ever again. Stay away from me. I don't need your help, or your protection, or whatever it is you planned on doing. You can just fall off a cliff for all I care. I just want you out of my life forever!"

She stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him. He had made a mess of this, and he knew it. He also knew her well enough to know that if he pushed her any further right now, she might never forgive him.

Slowly, he put on his hat and walked through the door. Phoebe wasted no time slamming it behind him, and the sound was the loneliest sound he had ever heard.

That lonely feeling had become his closest companion this past week. His heart ached. Before she had known he was here, he had enjoyed watching her from afar, seeing the way she settled into her new home, building relationships with the people around her. He had felt a sense of pride watching her, a sense of hope that God was fulfilling His will for both of them. However, having her close but not being able to talk to her no longer held the same hope it had the previous week. Now, it felt lonely. This isn't how it was supposed to have happened. How had he screwed things up so badly?

"Good morning, Officer Caffey," a woman's voice said as she walked past him on her way to the church, but he didn't really hear. He was too distracted by the image of perfection that had just opened the doors of the church and now stood greeting the townspeople. Her dark hair, pulled into a simple bun at the nape of her neck, looked like silky strands of molasses against her creamy complexion. Will liked Phoebe's hair like that, all pulled back, giving him a full view of her beautiful face, though he preferred it loose and flowing like she wore it when they were younger.

Her cheeks were a bright pink, not from rouge, Will was certain. No, he knew what caused that color; Phoebe was flustered. Never one to be comfortable as center of attention, she was handling this moment with such grace that Will's heart swelled with pride.

"She was born to do this," he whispered to himself.

His perusal lifted from her bright cheeks to the eyes he had seen in his dreams for so long. How many nights had he lain awake in a dirty French trench, imagining her eyes, the darkest of chocolates, her eyes as deep and as rich as her silky hair, her eyes…

Suddenly turned and settled right on him.

Her smile faded, as did the glow of her cheeks.

He was caught. Not that he cared - there was no use avoiding the inevitable, though it probably would have been easier to just slip into the back of the church after the music had begun.

As he joined the line of people entering the church, he was grateful; they kept Phoebe from running as she'd done all week.

He smiled as he reached the top of the stairs. "Good morning, Pastor." It was the first time he had used the title to address her and he liked how it sounded. "It's a beautiful morning."

"Is it?"

The smile that had graced her beautiful face while greeting the other parishioners remained but was not as welcoming as it had been.

"From where I stand, it is," he said with a wink.

Her smile quickly evaporated. "Perspective is everything, isn't it?"

Now he'd done it - she was angry. Why was he so bad at this? "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have –"

"Shouldn't have what, Constable? Lied? Misled? Deceived?"

Will sighed. "All of the above, I suppose." He opened the door and entered the church. This was neither the time nor the place to have this conversation.

He took a spot on a pew along the back wall.

A soldier never leaves his back exposed, even if he is in church.

The last of the parishioners found their seats and the music began. Will stood and opened the hymnal.