Finding Grace: A Novel (53 page)

It was clear to him that she was content
with his closeness. He had worried for a moment that she might shy
away, still being a new bride. But the way she relaxed against him,
letting out a small sigh of joy, he didn’t think it wrong to move
his hands from her shoulders to her waist. Bringing his arms around
her, he pulled her tightly against his body and pressed his cheek
to hers. And she contentedly sighed again.

“
I could stay here like
this all day…with you.”

“
And I with you.” He
brushed a delicate kiss just behind her ear, feeling her shiver. It
was enough to turn his thoughts wicked. But as eager as he was for
her, he wasn’t some hasty youth, demanding immediate indulgence. He
was a grown man, and now a husband. He intended to be the best one
he could be, which meant taking care of the woman he loved. And not
just in matters of a sensual nature. He forced himself to let go of
her, difficult as it was. He took her by the hand and led her to
little table. But he wasn’t ready to be parted from her completely.
Sitting in the chair, he brought her close and pulled her down to
sit on his knee. Close as she was to him, he felt her tense a
little, and a flush of pink came to her cheeks. He smiled at seeing
it.

“
You’re blushing. Does
sitting like this make you nervous?”

She shrugged, and leaned her head against
his shoulder. “I don’t figure nervous is the right word.
Overwhelmed, maybe. But in a good way.”

Reaching for slices of orange, he handed her
one and nibbled on one for himself. “You’re imprinted, I suppose,
with the idea that intimacy is evil. I’m sure your mother and
father never sat together like this.”

A tiny laugh escaped her. “Most likely not.”
As she finished her bit of fruit, her face blushed again. He was
about to ask why when she cleared her throat, rather nervously and
spoke. “You know, one time I asked Mama what is was like to have a
husband.”

He raised a curious eyebrow. “I can only
imagine her answer. What did she say?”

“
She quoted the bible, of
course. She said, ‘A husband is the head of his wife as Christ is
the head of his body, the church; he gave his life to be her
Savior. As the church submits to Christ, so you wives must submit
to your husbands in everything.”

He had a livid memory of seeing the marks on
her back. And now he was seeing that, because of her mother, her
mind was nearly as scarred. Good God, where did it all end? He
clenched his teeth in fury. There was an urge pulsing in his veins
- the urge to destroy something, to spend his outrage and wish it
was John and Rachel Langdon he was punishing. They deserved to burn
in hell for the way they’d nearly ruined their daughter. He thanked
God that by some miracle, they hadn’t fully succeeded in their
task.

His temper just under control, he
nonetheless couldn’t hide the seriousness of his voice when he
turned his eyes to her and spoke.

“
Some men may like that in
a woman, but I don’t. I want a wife, not a pet. I don’t want to be
married to someone who rolls over at my command…” Just as he was
about to say more, she reached out her hand and placed it over his
mouth. And she gave him a little grin.

“
Since when have you known
me to be like that?”

When she looked at him that way…smiled in
that way, he found his anger melting away fast. And he couldn’t
help but smile back at her.

“
I know you’re not like
that. And I’m so thankful for it. But I know there has to be some
little part of you, like a little voice in your head, that wonders
if it’s wrong to enjoy marriage. And I mean in every
way.”

“
What could be so wrong
about loving someone?”

Before he could respond, she put her arms
around his neck and brought her lips to his, kissing him deeply.
All other thoughts fled from his mind, and all he knew was the
nearness of her…the feel, the scent. And especially her sweet
taste. Briefly, she held him back to catch her breath. And she gave
him a saucy little smirk.

“
I have to be honest.
Thanks to my folks, sometimes there are those little voices in my
head. I’m sure that once in a while, they’ll try to sway me from
your wicked ways.”

Chuckling, he trailed warm lips along her
collarbone, and kissed the little hollow at the base of her throat.
“And how will you answer them?”

She let out a warm sigh. “I don’t know,
because I’m just not listening right now…

*****

"I wonder if this is what Eden looked
like."

She sat with him on the soft sand. Leaning
back against him, his arms around her, they watched the afternoon
sun as it slowly descended into the sea. There were other visitors
from the inn watching as well, but most of them were at a distance,
away in their own little places. She didn’t notice anyone except
her husband, the dazzling sunset, and the soft sound of the waves
rolling in and out from the shore. To her words about their
paradise, Henry didn’t say anything. But she felt his lips in her
hair, and it made her smile. Words weren’t really necessary.

As the sun dropped below the waterline, she
let out a little sigh of contentment, and made to rise. It had been
a long day in the sun and the water, and feeling happy but rather
tired, she wanted to retire for the night. She reached for his
hands, thinking he would rise and go with her. But he pulled her
back down, and though she was getting sleepy eyed, she found his
invitation impossible to resist. But to her surprise, instead of
embracing her, he reached into his pocket and brought out a small
velvet box. He placed it in her hand, and the moment she looked at
it, she let out a sound of protest. She knew he wanted to spoil
her…he’d said so several times in the last few days. But accepting
gifts was something she just couldn’t get used to, no matter how he
tried to change it. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he put
a finger to her lips to quiet her.

"It is a husband's right to give a gift now
and then. And I think you will like this one very much. It's more
symbolic than anything else."

She sighed, knowing he would argue with her
all night long if he wanted to, and she was simply too happy with
him to fight. So she relented and opened the box. It turned out to
be a silver compass, and her eyes sparkled with delight. Without
him saying a word, she knew just what his gift implied. She said
nothing, and just smiled at him, as she cradled the trinket
lovingly in her hand. Then it was he who rose to his feet, and
pulled her to hers.

“
The mainland is to the
north," he said. "But let’s look in other directions." They faced
the water, which still shimmered with the lingering red light of
day. She lifted the compass and showed it to him. "Now we’re facing
the west," he said. "Across the gulf is Mexico, if you want to take
that direction. Personally, I found it much too hot.” Taking her by
the shoulders, he turned her so she looked down the stretch of the
sandy shore. He reached out and lifted her hand, asking her what
the direction read.

“
South,” she
replied.

“
And somewhere out there is
the Caribbean.” With a smile he turned her again, this time in the
direction of the inn and the open evening sky behind it.

"That’s the east,” she said, looking at her
compass.

He nodded. "To the east is the Atlantic, and
if you go as the crow flies, you wind up in Africa.” She looked up
to see him smiling at her, and she couldn‘t help but smile back
when he asked, "So, Mrs. Shaw. Which direction would you choose if
you could?"

She sort of tilted her head to one side,
thinking. A moment later she left his side, holding the compass and
turning until she had found a direction she desired, and he came to
stand close behind her, where he bent his head and placed a kiss on
her shoulder. "So? What did you choose?"

She lifted the compass to show him. "North,
Northeast. I think you know just what lies in that direction."

A little grin turned up the corner of his
mouth. "I expected as much," he said. "Which is why, in three days,
we will board a ship to New York. And after a day or two of
visiting that most American of American cities, we will travel
across the Atlantic to Europe, and you will finally get to see all
those far-away places you've been dreaming of."

She slipped the compass into her pocket.
Then she slid her arms around him and rested her head against his
chest. She sighed in contentment. “Sometimes I wonder if this is
all my imagination.” She looked up at him, seeing his sly little
smirk. It was a look she was coming to know very well, and to look
forward to.

“
Let me assure you,” he
said. “This is all very real.” As if to prove his words, he kissed
her firmly and she responded in an instant, snaking her arms around
his neck, pulling him as close as she could. When he broke the kiss
she whimpered in protest, but he just gave her another wicked smile
and replied, “I don’t think you’re completely convinced. We’ll have
to remedy that, won’t we?”

She nodded, her head spinning slightly as he
took her hand and they walked back to the inn.

Chapter 26

“Epilogue”

After two days in New York, they traveled by
luxury liner to England. Her sea-legs were not as steady as his,
but she managed to enjoy the shipboard entertainment and the
constant attention of her doting husband, despite her
seasickness.

They spent a whirlwind month in Europe,
taking in the cities of old and loving every moment of it. Paris
had been her favorite, as she had always known it would be. It was
truly the city of romance, and she found that it was not only a
romance of the heart, but of the mind and soul. It seemed the whole
city was overflowing with great writers, poets, artists, and
musicians, and she could not help but be inspired by the creative
spirit and beauty. As she and Henry walked along the
Champs-Elysees, she told him of the thought that been swirling in
her mind since their arrival.

"I think I will be a writer...I think Paris
has inspired something in me that I have to express. A kind of
creativity that needs to flow from my mind, and I think a pen and
paper will be the only way to really express it."

He smiled at her, giving her a knowing look.
"I didn't think you would be content for long with just being
married and settling down. Just keeping a home and family never did
seem like something that would suit you. You're much too
independent for that."

"You're right. But I do want to keep a home
and children. And I just love being married to you. But I want
something else in life. Something that is my own...all my own. I
think being a writer will give me that."

She kept a journal of their travels, writing
her thoughts and feelings about Europe and all of its wonders. All
in all, it was filled with treasured memories. But one memory she
chose to keep locked safely in her head. For the rest of her days
it would remain there, to serve her time and time again…

She often thought back to that first night
in Paris. It had been a long and tedious journey, and they retired
early, both exhausted. When they slept, it pleased her to rest with
her back against his chest. His solid warmth made her feel safe and
secure, and his arm around her was only an added pleasure, and that
time was no different.

Until, sometime late in the night, he began
to shudder strangely in his sleep. His arm moved away from her as
he rolled to his back. He murmured words she couldn’t understand at
first, and for a moment she thought he was just talking the
gibberish of dreams. She tried to brush off the nonsensical words.
But when they became clear and frantic pleas for help, she realized
he was having a severe nightmare. A war memory, she sensed, from
the terrified way he cried out. In his state he flailed his arms
about, and on her knees beside him she tried to shake him from his
sleep.

“
Henry, wake up!” She
reached out and gave his cheek a light slap, and he jumped so
violently that she moved back slightly to give him a bit of space.
He lay very still for several moments, though his chest rose and
fell sharply, his eyes wide with fear. For a second or two she
hesitated touching him. The sight of him was fearful. But the need
to comfort him was overwhelming, and though her heart beat fast
with fright, she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. He
jumped slightly at the touch of her hand, but she didn’t withdraw
it. And after a few passing moments, he seemed to calm under her
touch. She looked down at him and spoke softly.

“
Are you all
right?”

Though he was calm in the physical sense,
his breathing slower now, his eyes were still wild. To her question
he gave no reply, and she didn’t press him for answers. Instead she
slowly sank down beside him and put her head on his shoulder. They
lay silently that way for some time, until in a swift gesture he
rolled over and put his arms around her. Now it was her shoulder
that cradled his head. She felt a trickle of moisture on her skin,
and realized they were tears that fell from his eyes. Her heart
broke, and she wanted so much to ask what shook him so. But
something within her said he needed her to listen, and not to
speak. It was a long time before he said anything, and when he did,
he sounded to her like a frightened little boy.

“
I’ve tried so hard to
forget it. But in the middle of the night it comes back to me, and
it’s like I’m there all over again. It’s like the years since then
have never really been. And I’m so afraid I won’t make it
home.”