Beneath a Southern Sky (22 page)

With a loud scraping sound that echoed through the house, Cole pushed his chair back from the table and walked out the back door.

Twenty-Four

C
ole opened the door and stepped into the kitchen. The house was quiet. He walked through the dining room and saw Daria lying on the sofa. She appeared to be asleep, but her face was swollen and red from crying. Natalie was curled in the curve of Daria’s body, sleeping soundly. Everything in him wanted to go to them, to lie down beside them and take them in his arms and never let go. Everything he loved in this world was lying on that sofa—his wife, the precious little girl who called him
Daddy
, and the baby God had created of his and Daria’s love. And he was going to lose them all.

He longed to awaken Daria, to wrap her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was for running out on her the way he had an hour ago. But he had lost the right to do that. Daria belonged to someone else.

With leaden feet, he climbed the stairs to their bedroom and lay down on top of the quilt fully dressed. He stared at the ceiling, wishing that Daria would come to him, wishing he knew where he stood with her. He drifted off to sleep, and when he next opened his eyes, he heard Daria and Natalie downstairs.

He went to the bathroom to wash his face. When he went down to the kitchen, Daria was standing there in her jacket, her purse over her shoulder, writing something on the notepad by the telephone.

“Oh,” she said when she saw him. “I-I didn’t want to wake you.” She seemed so awkward, so stiff, as if they were strangers.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to take Natalie to my folks. I think it’d be best if she was with them for a few days while we…decide what we’re going to do.”

He nodded, but he thought bitterly that it wouldn’t be “we” who made a decision. This was completely out of his hands. It was a decision Daria would have to make alone.

He heard Natalie pad down the hallway. When she saw him, she ran to his side. “Daddy, I goin’ to Grammy’s house!” she chirped.

He gulped back tears, and his voice cracked when he told her, “I know, sweetie. Mommy told me. You be good for them, okay, Nattie?”

She put her tiny hands on her hips and declared, “Daddy! I
always
good.”

Daria corralled Natalie to put her jacket on her, and then they were gone.

He went to the window and watched the car until it turned onto the main road. Walking back to the kitchen, he noticed the notepad lying on the counter. He picked it up.

Cole
,
Nattie and I are going to my folks for a while. I’ll talk to
you tomorrow. I do love

She had stopped writing when he had come in. He wished he had come half a minute later.

The next morning in the dead silence of the house, Daria’s words—
I do love—
still echoed in his ears, but it seemed as though they’d been written a thousand years ago. He went to the kitchen and picked up the telephone. Rummaging through a stack of papers, he extricated a worn slip of paper, and dialed the long-distance number neatly printed on it.

The phone continued to ring as his thoughts roiled. Finally an impatient voice answered.

“Dennis?”

“Yeah, this is Dennis. Who’s calling, please?”

“It’s Cole, Dennis. I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday, but I need your help.”

Dennis Chastain was an old friend, a college buddy turned lawyer who had opened a practice in Kansas City. From time to time, he helped Cole with some of the legal intricacies of running a veterinary practice.

“Hey, Cole! Great to hear from you! Whatsa matter, you land yourself in jail?” he said jokingly.

“No, Dennis.” He sighed deeply. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“This sounds serious,” Dennis said, immediately contrite.

“It
is
serious, Dennis. You know that Daria was widowed before we married,” he said without preamble. “She was told that her husband was killed while they were missionaries in Colombia.”

“Yes…” Chastain waited patiently on the other end, understandable curiosity in his voice.

“Well, we received a telegram yesterday telling us that he has been found alive.”

“Whoa! That sounds like some kind of hoax to me, Cole—”

“I wish it were. We spoke to his parents yesterday. They received an identical telegram, and they’ve spoken to their son. He’s in a hospital in Bogotá. Everything checks out, Dennis. It’s no hoax. Nathan Camfield is alive and flying into Kansas City today.”

“You—You’re positive?”

“As sure as we can be until we’ve actually seen him.”

“That’s unbelievable!”

“Yes. I-I need to know what this means for us legally, Dennis. Is my wife still legally married to this man? What does this do to my marriage? I don’t even know where to begin…” He let his voice trail off as the magnitude of the situation rolled over him again.

“Oh, man, Cole! I’ve never run up against anything remotely like this. I know there were some similar situations after World War II and, for that matter, probably after Vietnam, too. But what the legal ramifications were, I’m honestly not sure. I’m going to have to do some checking on this one. Let’s see, how long have you and Daria been married?”

“A little over a year.”

“And how long had her first husband been dead—or I should say missing?”

“It’s been…” Cole did some quick calculations in his head. “Well, it’s got to be close to three years now. Daria is pregnant with our child, Dennis. I can’t lose her!” He knew the desperation he was feeling had crept into his voice.

“I’ll do everything I can to help you, Cole,” Dennis said in a calming voice. “I’ll have to look up the actual wording of the laws, but unless there’s been deceit on your wife’s part, or something like that, my guess is that the law would uphold your marriage since her husband was believed dead. But since you’ve been married less than seven years, that may complicate things. I’ll have to check into this,” he added hastily. “Your marriage is probably completely secure. Like I said, I’ve never come across this situation before, but I’ll find out. I promise you that. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

When Cole was silent on his end, Dennis asked gently, “Cole, is it clear that Daria wishes to…remain with you?”

Cole hadn’t dared to ask his wife that question yet, and neither had she volunteered an answer. “I don’t know, Dennis. We’re still in shock over the whole thing.”

“I can’t even imagine,” the lawyer said sympathetically. “Give me your number, and I’ll get back to you the minute I can find some answers.”

Cole recited the number woodenly. Then, thanking his friend, he dropped the receiver in its cradle.
O Father, please help me. I don’t understand why you’re doing this to us. What do you want me to do, God? Please show me. Please, Father. I need you
.

He put his head in his hands and wept like a child.

When Daria returned from her parents’ house, Cole was sitting at the telephone in the dark, his back to her.

She went to him and put her hands on his shoulders. Cole’s muscles tensed under her touch, and she took a step back.

“I called Dennis Chastain,” he said to her evenly, not turning around.

“Oh… What did he say?”

“He couldn’t really tell me anything definite.”

She took a deep breath. “Cole, Dad thinks I need to go to Kansas City to talk to Nate in person. Find out how badly he’s injured…” She let her voice trail off, hoping for some indication of how he was receiving this idea.

But he sat there in silence, still refusing to look at her.

“Cole,” she said, attempting to keep her voice steady, “Nate will want to see Natalie. He’ll have to see her—”

He whirled to face her now. “I know that, Daria,” he said tersely. “He’ll have to see you, too. Do you think I don’t know that?”

She was shocked at the venom in his voice, but it gave her a surge of strength. “Cole, stop it!” she said firmly. “I can’t do this if you lash out at me! This is the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. I need your help. I need you to be there for me!”

“You need me to be there for you?” he repeated, finally looking at her. “For what? What exactly are we talking about here, Daria? Are you going back with Nathan?”

She felt as though she’d been slapped. She had barely come to terms with the fact that Nathan was alive, much less the thought of which man was her true husband.

She longed for Cole to take her in his arms, to reassure her that they would work everything out, that this would all soon be over. And yet, a tender place in her heart, a place she thought had died, had been awakened by the amazing miracle of Nate’s return. He was her first love. They had such a deep history together. They had practically grown up together. And then she had abandoned him in the wilds! It terrified her to think what he might have endured during that time. Guilt pierced her soul. Perhaps Nate could never forgive her. Perhaps he wouldn’t want her back even if she were free.

But then there was Natalie. Nate had given her their precious daughter, and even Cole could not deny that Nathan Camfield deserved to know his child.
Oh, what a tangled mess! God, how could you do this to us?

The answer poured over her like a flood of icy water. She began to see the truth as if it were projected on the wall in front of her. The dreams she’d had—Nate alive and walking toward her, smiling. The letter from Evangeline Magrit, and the eerie, gnawing feeling it had caused to rise up in her. The strange intuition that had haunted her until she had all but shut God out of her life.

She could not blame God for this dilemma, for she suddenly realized that he had given her warnings, shown her signs. She simply hadn’t listened! Instead she had turned a deaf ear to the warnings, to what she now knew were divine nudgings. And finally, she had silenced them.

Cole looked at her, hurt written plainly on his handsome face. He was still waiting for her answer, her verdict on their future together. “I can’t even think straight about this yet, Cole. I don’t know what Nate will want. I don’t know how he is physically, emotionally. I just don’t know what is going to happen.”

“Well I
do
know what will happen, Daria. You’ll go to him, as you must. And you’ll stay with him—you and Natalie. You can’t do anything less. All I ask is that you don’t keep Natalie from me. And that I get to be a part of my own child’s life.”

“Cole! What are you talking about? You sound as if it’s all over between us. Please don’t do this! I truly don’t know what will happen. But I need your help. I can’t do this alone. Please, Cole…” She was sobbing now, begging, but her cries seemed to have no effect on him. He had turned aloof and uncaring before her eyes.

He pushed his chair back from the desk, turned away from her, and went down the hall toward their bedroom. She followed him, still weeping. “Please, Cole.”

He whirled to face her in the hallway in front of their room. “Daria, what do you want me to do?
What do you want me to do?
” he shouted again, his face ruddy with rage. He softened a little when he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, Daria, but this isn’t exactly a decision I can make for you!”

“Cole, I’m not asking you to make any decision. I just—” What
did
she want from him? She wanted him to make everything go back the way it had been before this ordeal began. But no! That wasn’t true. Nate was alive, and she couldn’t possibly wish him dead again.

She slumped to the floor and leaned her back against the cool surface of the wall. The blood pounded at her temples while she watched, helpless, as Cole went into their room, dragged a large suitcase down from the shelf in their walk-in closet and started dumping his dresser drawers into it. He was leaving, and there wasn’t one word she could say to stop him.

Through tears, she watched him finish packing. When he brushed past her without so much as a glance in her direction, the anger finally rose in her. She followed him out to the kitchen and then to the back porch.

“Colson Hunter, don’t you dare leave like this! Please! We can’t get through this if we can’t talk about it!”