Before the Scarlet Dawn

36





When the sky threatened rain, Eliza drew the hood of her cloak over her dark hair and trudged on. Not a soul confronted her along the way, for the road remained desolate for miles. Thirsty, she paused upon the bank of a stream that purled down a slope. She sat in the moss, removed her glove, and dipped her hand into the cold water. It tasted sweet and reminded her of her river so far away and the child left behind.

“I am tired, Lord. But I must find my way.” She gazed up at the clusters of leaves above her. She thought about her father. What he would tell her to do, and what he would think, to see her sitting beside a stream, all alone?

A verse he had read to her many times came back to her, and she whispered it. “Stand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls.”

Minutes later, clouds subdued the sun. She stood, brushed off her cloak, and glanced around her. Which way to the road? Her bearings lost, she passed through the woods. They grew thicker, darker, and the wind murmured louder than the birds that sang. She looked for the sun and determined another way. Fretful moments went by until she spotted the road at the bottom of the hill.

With care, she sidestepped down the slope, slipped, regained her footing, and trudged on. As the light waned, she pondered what she would do for the night. If she could find a kind farmer who would allow her his barn and a bed of hay, she’d be grateful.

Not far from the stream, she recognized the path that led away from the road, where the land opened up to grass-covered downs. Eliza gazed at the expanse of land before her, the rocks and heath, the sheep grazing in the distance, then beyond, to the place where she had grown up and Mr. Brennan had ministered until tragedy struck his life. She had to see it for herself, what was once a happier place, now a charred remnant of the past. The silence seemed unearthly, the dusky light so solemn she was filled with a sense of awe.

In her mind, she envisioned the horrid scene—smoldering beams, blackened stone, and tongues of flame. All that remained were the smoke-marred limestone walls and the glassless windows of what had once been a house where the Word of God was loved and reverenced, where care for the poor in body and soul were a way of life, where families had supped, laughed, and cried together.

Were the tears in her eyes brought on from the wind? Dull, sick revolt gripped her belly, and her head ached. No longer could she try to imagine what Mr. Brennan had faced that terrible day, what unbearable agony had consumed him. Oh, his unfortunate wife and baby. Poor, poor Ethan, to have them not.

Sorrowful, she headed back down the path above the downs to the road. The quiet that permeated the land broke of a sudden when she heard the trot of a horse drawing near. She stepped off the road into a thicket and there backed up against the trunk of a large tree. The rider came on, and she saw his face and a pair of keen and urgent eyes.

For a moment, she stood stark still with her hands at her breast. His horse pricked its ears and slowed. Brennan pulling on the reins, waited, and listened. He had come all this way in search of her. How could she stay hidden and not face the man? Away from the tree, she came forward and stood alongside the road before him. Arms at her side, the tendrils of her hair lifted in the breeze. His horse sidestepped, and he steadied him. Then he dismounted and walked toward her.

Pity for her showed in his eyes. About his shoulders hung his hair, damp from the ride, clinging to his forehead. “Eliza. What do you mean by running away like this?”

Feeling ashamed, she lowered her eyes, bit her lower lip, and forced herself not to cry. “I . . .”

“Eliza, look at me.” He came closer, and she obeyed him. “Do you really want to leave us? Is running away the answer? Will it end scrutiny, judgment, and rejection from others? I have done none of those things to you. I have accepted you as you are, and loved you—even now when you have left me, thinking it will somehow save me, when all it will do is destroy me.”

“I do not want to hurt you, or Ethan, or Fiona,” she murmured.

“Then you must see God brought us together—two people with broken hearts, both of us losing a mate and a child. I love you, Eliza, no matter your past or your future. I want to grow old knowing I have my companion, my friend, at my side, to have and to hold until I die.”

His words grieved her. “How? You are a man of faith. You cannot . . .”

“I can,” he interrupted with haste. “We will live out our lives quietly at Fairview, you and I, Fiona and Ethan. Come back with me, Eliza. We are your family now. If I have to beg, I will do it.”

Her hair blew across her eyes, and she brushed it back. Hayward wanted a wife to build his estate and legacy, whether it was she or Miss Marsden or someone else. It did not matter. At one time, she had believed he loved her. But his love had been conditional. As for Langbourne, he wanted her out of pride, vengeance, and lust. She had rejected him, and shocked him into seeing her as a challenge. And how cruelly he would have treated her if she had accepted him.

Brennan looked past the violet eyes and raven hair to a place no other had seen. He treated her as an equal, and he understood spiritual things, the Lord’s quickness to forgive, the sacrifice for her sin and his. He’d brought her beauty for ashes, joy for tears. Is this not what she had longed for? To be loved for who she was, not what she was?

Through his expression he pleaded with her, then held out his hand. His warm eyes bid her come home, and at that moment, Eliza knew what love really meant. She saw in him understanding, sacrifice, patience, and forgiveness, gracing a man who had been broken and imperfect.

She took the hand he offered, and she was shielded against wind and rain, safe at last.

“ ‘He sent from above, he took me, he drew me out of many waters,’ ” Brennan said. “You are not lost, Eliza, nor forsaken. Tell me you believe that.”

“I do. More than anything I have believed in my life.”

“Then let us leave this grim place. I have no doubt Fiona will have supper on the table for us, and Ethan will be waiting impatiently by the door.”

He climbed into the saddle and lifted her up behind him. In silence, they rode homeward. She did not look back to the ruins, nor to the south where far away the sea met the shores of Cornwall. Instead, she turned her face toward Fairview.





Discussion Questions





How did you feel when Eliza lost her father and brother, and was turned out of her home by Mr. Morgan?

What expectations did you have for Eliza when Hay-ward agreed to wed her?

Do you believe people can have an immediate connection to each other like Eliza had with Hayward?

Did Eliza make the right choice in marrying Hayward? How different would her life have been if she had married Langbourne instead?

What were Eliza’s character strengths and weaknesses?

What were Hayward’s character strengths and weaknesses?

Was Sarah’s choice to raise Ilene as her child made out of love for Eliza and wanting to protect her, or was it for another reason?

Why was Hayward unable to forgive Eliza?

How did you feel about Eliza and Mr. Brennan being close friends without it being a romantic relationship?

What were some of the spiritual themes of this book, and what did they mean to you?