Authors: Lori Wick
“I only wish there was something I could do.”
“Well,” Pastor Hurst said, a small twinkle in his eye, “you could marry her.”
Weston looked neither shocked or amused.
“I was joking, Mr Weston.”
“I assumed as much, but in truth I did think that Anne’s getting married would solve the problem. I don’t suppose there are many prospects.”
“I’m afraid not.”
Weston again felt a pang in his heart. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, and he found it very odd.
“What advice would you give me?” Weston asked to take his mind from his emotions. “When I talked to Anne last Sunday, she was not happy to see me. She was gracious but also very embarrassed, and I don’t wish for that. If you think it best to avoid her, I’ll do that. Whatever will put her most at ease.”
Pastor Hurst thought for a moment. He had not expected to see Weston before Sunday and in truth had not given much thought about the incident from the previous week. He’d told his wife he was still working it out, but time had been taken with other matters.
“May I think on that and get back to you, Mr Weston?”
“Of course.” Weston stood. “I barged in here, and you’ve probably left your meal to listen to me rant. Thank you for your time.”
“Not at all. In fact, if you haven’t eaten, why not join me?”
“Are you certain?” Weston asked, his heart pleased because he genuinely liked the man.
“Come along,” Pastor Hurst said lightly, leading the way from the room.
Weston found himself included in the most natural way, enjoying it even more when Mrs Hurst joined them. Being thankful for the first time in this situation concerning Anne, he thought,
If Anne has friends like these, she’s in very good hands.
“You look very far away.”
Judith Hurst jumped, a hand going to her heart before turning to her husband. It was later the same day. They were in the garden, and supper would be ready in less than an hour.
“Oh, Frederick, you startled me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He moved close to kiss her and then took the flower basket from her hand. Both her hands were free now to snip the blossoms and add them to the growing pile.
“What were you thinking about?”
“Mr Weston.”
“He’s certainly a surprise, isn’t he?”
“Yes. I can’t think why he hasn’t married.”
Pastor’s brows rose. His wife was not known for her matchmaking schemes. But she didn’t notice his response. Her head still bent, she methodically snipped the flowers one by one, adding them to the basket in her quiet way.
“Do you have anyone in mind for him?”
“Only Anne.”
The pastor all but dropped the basket.
“Judith.”
“Um?” she said absently, her eyes on the rosebushes.
“Look at me.”
Judith obeyed, blinking when she saw her husband’s astounded face.
“What is it, Frederick?”
“That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell me. I’ve never heard you talk this way.”
“No, I guess you haven’t,” she agreed sedately. “But I can’t help but think about Anne finding someone to love and cherish her. I know God can do things we never think of, but I would be made of stone if I didn’t wonder whether Mr Weston has noticed our Anne.”
“Why would you be made of stone?”
“Because there have been so many days I wished someone would rescue her, and now Mr Weston comes into our midst. He’s charming, kind, and I can tell by the questions he’s asked you about Scripture that he’s digging deeply and taking his faith seriously.” Judith let out a little sigh. “If he would only love and marry Anne, he’d be just about perfect.”
Pastor had nothing to say. He was thoroughly stunned with his wife’s admission. And at the same time he agreed with her. He hadn’t given hours of thought to the matter, but wasn’t his own heart wondering the same thing just last week when he left Weston and Anne alone in the foyer?
“What does that look mean, dear?” Judith asked into his confused thoughts; she had stopped all movements and turned to face him.
“It just means that I have a lot of praying to do.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I’ve been trying to work this out so I could pray sensibly, when in truth I’ve been trying to work it out so I could tell God what to do. I need to pray for Anne and Mr Weston, not as a couple, but as God’s children, remembering that He has a great plan for each of them.”
Judith thought about this a moment and then asked, “So would you advise me
not
to pray that Mr Weston notices Anne?”
Pastor Hurst smiled.
“May I think about that and get back to you?”
Judith’s smile matched his own. She laid the small shears in the basket with the flowers, tucked her arm into her husband’s, and turned them so they could walk toward the house. His lack of answer for her might not help Anne at the moment, but as her husband had just said, it wasn’t their job to help, it was their job to wait on God.
Levens Crossing
Anne watched her father stride across the field on Saturday afternoon. She had told him she was making supper, but he had been a man with a mission. Sword belted into place and hat low on his brow, he exited through the back door and was gone. Anne had no idea where he was going or when he would return.
She watched his progress slow a bit and muttered to herself, “Heaven knows how muddy that field might be.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when she heard horses on the road. She would have thought nothing of this, but the clopping of their hooves told her they had stopped out front. Anne circled the house slowly and found Palmer, Frank, Walt, and Mr Weston in her yard.
“Hello, Anne,” Palmer greeted, swinging down from the saddle. “We’re on our way to Tipton and thought we’d stop and say hello.”
“I’m so glad you did.” Anne smiled and met everyone’s eyes briefly. “You just missed Father. He’s off on an adventure.”
“Miss Anne,” Walt chimed in, “I think you have a hole starting in your roof.”
“You’re probably right, Walt,” she agreed, turning her back to the group so she could inspect the spot to which he pointed. Palmer had come to stand on one side of her, and Weston had gone to her other.
“One of my coachmen is very handy,” Weston said, gazing at the roof. “He could have that patched in less than an hour.”
“Oh, thank you, Mr Weston, but I’m sure we can manage.”
“But why should you?” Palmer shocked her by asking, his voice making the matter sound simple.
Anne looked to him.
“If Weston’s man can see to it, Anne, his fixing it would be a fine idea.”
Anne looked up at Palmer for a moment and then turned slowly back to Weston. She felt embarrassed in his presence but still met his eyes.
“Thank you, Mr Weston. I hope I didn’t sound ungrateful.”
“Not at all, Miss Gardiner,” he replied, his eyes meeting hers, his voice quiet and kind. “There won’t be time this afternoon, but I’ll have Bert come on Monday.”
“Thank you,” she offered again, this time not able to look away for a moment.
“We’d best be off,” Palmer said.
“Before you leave, Palmer, will you tell me how Lydia is doing?” Anne felt rescued when she was able to turn and ask.
“Very well. She’ll be there tomorrow.”
“At church?”
“That’s what she says.”
Anne laughed. “Tell her I think she’s mad, but I can’t wait to see her.”
“I’ll give her the message.”
The men departed after that, Anne waving them on their way. She stood watching the horses and riders as they moved out of sight, and for that reason, caught the fact that Mr Weston turned often in his saddle to look back at her. Anne found it curious but refused to give way to fantasies. With a stern word to herself, she went inside to finish making supper.
Tipton
“How did Anne seem?” Lydia asked over supper, her eyes on her two sons.
“She’s getting a hole in her roof,” Walt told her. “And Mr Weston has a man who can fix it.”
“How nice, Mr Weston. I’m sure Anne and the Colonel will appreciate that.”
“If the Colonel notices,” Frank put in, his tone lacking criticism.
“That’s certainly true,” his father agreed. “The last time I saw the Colonel, he spoke to me about my father in a most lucid manner. The time before that, he didn’t know me at all.”
“And Anne has said that it’s not unusual for him to prepare a meal for them,” Lydia inserted, “and even lay the table. He likes Anne to fix tea, but the Colonel is surprisingly competent in the kitchen.”
“I like his sword,” Emma said softly, drawing a smile from her father.
“Forgive us, Mr Weston.” Lydia noticed that he had grown quiet. “You probably don’t know about Anne’s father.”
“Actually, I do. He’s a fascinating chap.”
“Indeed. I’m sure all small towns can boast a character, but I don’t know how many of them are armed for battle.”
“Did he see active service?” Weston asked.
“Yes,” Palmer answered. “He served in Burma and saw plenty of action, even sustained a few injuries.”
“But that’s not why he’s ill today,” Lydia filled in, unaware that Anne had already given him these details. “He ran a high fever some years ago now. Everyone was certain he would die. When he came out of it, he was never the same.”
“Miss Gardiner has no siblings, no other family?” Weston asked before he remembered that Pastor had told him this.
“No. Her mother died when she was 14—a gentle and lovely woman. She’s the reason Anne is such a lady.”
“She is that,” Weston said quietly, his eyes on the meat he was cutting.
Lydia couldn’t help but notice the comment. She looked at her guest and then glanced at her husband. Their eyes met for just a moment, but much was communicated.
“He smiled!” Lizzy Palmer said with excitement.
“I saw that,” Anne said, eyes on the baby in her arms.
“I’ve got to tell Mama that Oliver smiled!”
Lizzy darted off, but Emma stayed close, leaning against Anne to have a look at her brother.
“Is he a good baby?” Anne asked Emma.
“Yes. He doesn’t cry very much at all. We hope that Marianne has a boy too, so they can play together.”
“That would be fun, but don’t forget that you’re a girl and you like to play with your brothers.”