The Caregiver

CHAPTER 20





The pail of berries continued to be a great source of amusement at his house.

“So, Calvin?” his mother asked with a slight hint of amusement as she scrubbed the kitchen counter. “Is this pail of berries here your way of askin’ me to bake you a pie?”

“Mamm, you know these berries belong to the Lapps. I’m off to go deliver it.”

“Any reason you brought the pail home in the first place?”

“I was speaking with Lucy yesterday near the blackberry patch. Unfortunately, she forgot the pail when she left.”

“That’s a shame.”

Calvin swallowed hard. His mother was trying hard not to smile. And she obviously knew much more than she was letting on. Feeling vaguely childish, he added, “We, ah, had a small misunderstanding.”

“But things are cleared up now?”

“Not yet.”

As she rinsed out the sponge in the soapy water, she looked at him over her shoulder. “Care to tell me what the problem was?”

“Nee. It’s Lucy’s story to tell, not mine.”

She waited a beat, looked him over. “Does her story include the fact that she was married before?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Lucy’s been through a difficult time, for sure. Everyone in her family was terribly worried about her, I’ll tell you that.”

“She is awfully young to be widowed.”

His mother’s brow furrowed as she scrubbed at a hardened spot on the counter. “She was awfully young for many things.” After a pause, she added, “A woman like that would need a lot of patience, son.”

He knew what his mother meant. It wasn’t going to be enough to simply want a future with Lucy. He needed to be ready to take on her past, too.

That called for someone who was strong—and he hoped he would be strong enough, because Lucy needed a man who she could count on.

She’d been deeply hurt by the one person who’d promised to love and protect her, no matter what.

Quite honestly, the idea of Lucy being abused by her husband made his blood boil. He didn’t like to think of any woman trapped in a difficult marriage—but imagining Lucy in such an arrangement was especially hard.

Calvin picked up the pail. “I think I’ll go deliver the berries now.”

“Have a care, Calvin,” she murmured. “And don’t forget to keep the Lord with you. Let Him guide you in this instance.”

“I always do,” he replied as he carried the pail out the back door.

Only when he was walking on the path near the bushes did Calvin wonder if his mother had been talking about caring for Lucy . . . or caring for himself.

The knock at the door startled Lucy. All morning, she’d been cooking and cleaning for Mattie and her parents. Actually, her mind had been in such disarray, she’d been grateful for the work. For too many nights, she’d been dreaming about Paul.

And thinking about Calvin when the sun rose.

The knock came again.

Hurrying, she swung open the door. “Yes?”

And then she stifled a gasp as she slowly realized that the woman on the other side of the entryway was Calvin’s old sweetheart.

“Guder mariye,” she said with a smile, just like she stopped by all the time. “You’re Lucy, yes?” When she nodded, Gwen finished her introduction. “I’m Gwen Kent. I saw you when you were out shopping with your aunt, but didn’t have the opportunity to introduce myself.”

Lucy’s eyes widened as she remembered. Mrs. Weaver had said Gwen had broken Calvin’s heart.

Oh, but this was awkward! “I’m sorry, but Mattie isn’t here right now.”

“That’s all right. Actually, I came to see you. I brought some fresh cherry bread. I hope you all will enjoy it.”

“I’m sure we shall . . .” Lucy worked her bottom lip, trying to think of something to say. “Jenna took Mattie to get blood drawn. I decided to stay here and clean.”

“Would you mind if I still came inside? I won’t stay long. But it would be nice if we could get to know each other.”

Lucy looked behind her with misgiving. “I’m afraid the house isn’t in shape for guests. I was just washing the floors.”

“I can help, if you’d like.”

“Oh, goodness, of course you couldn’t.”

“Well, perhaps I could simply leave this in the kitchen for you?”

“All right. Danke.”

When they were in the kitchen, Gwen did her best not to step in the wet spots on the floor. After setting down her bread, she leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms.

“So what do you think of our little town of Jacob’s Crossing?”

“I like it very much.” Then, realizing she sounded like a ninny, she amended her words. “I mean, what I’ve seen of it.”

“It’s small, but there are many things to recommend it, I think. The downtown is pretty, with the old Methodist church buildings and the old clock tower.”

“I do like that clock tower. I can’t wait to hear it chime.”

“You’ll have to take a tour and look around some more. When you have time.”

“Perhaps. But I’m here to tend to Mattie, you know.”

“I’m sure she’s grateful for your assistance.”

“Sometimes she is . . . and sometimes I’m afraid I drive her a bit crazy.”

Gwen smiled, though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Actually, she looked troubled.

“Gwen? I’m getting the feeling that you came here to speak to me about something. Is it Calvin?”

“Yes.”

“We are just friends,” Lucy said. “That is all.”

“Actually, Calvin and I are just friends now, too.” Gwen could feel her cheeks heat, so she amended her words. “I mean, I hope we will become friends again. One day.”

“You are seeing someone else now, aren’t you?”

“Did Calvin tell you that?”

“Mattie did.”

Gwen tried to read Lucy’s expression, but it was perfectly blank. “I need to marry,” she said finally. “And Will, well, Will is a good man.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

She nodded. “Marrying him will help my mother and sister.”

As she heard those words, Lucy’s world spun.

“What is wrong?” Immediately, Gwen moved closer. “Listen, I’m sorry. I meant to try to clear the air . . . but once again, I should have just let things alone.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, no, that’s all right. Your words just upset me, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry. I had heard that you and Calvin were getting closer. I don’t know why I wanted to clear the air, but I think it was a silly thing to even imagine it could happen. I think I better get going.” With care, she crossed the damp floor and headed to the front door. “Perhaps one day I’ll stop by again. You know, to see Mattie.”

“I’ll let her know that.”

Gwen opened the door, then stepped back. “Calvin?”

Peeking around the door, Lucy saw Calvin approach, a pail of berries in one hand and her diary in the other.

As if the situation couldn’t get any more awkward. “Lucy, I brought you your berries,” he called out as he approached the porch, then caught sight of her and stopped in his tracks. “Gwen? What are you doing here?”

“I was just leaving some bread for Mattie. I see you brought her some fruit.”

“Actually, this was Lucy’s . . .” He turned to her. “Lucy, you forgot this the other day.”

“Danke. I can’t believe I was so foolish.”

“Not so much,” he murmured.

Gwen looked from Calvin to Lucy and then started out the door. “Well, I think I’ll be on my way. Actually, I think it’s past time for me to go.”

Lucy stood at the doorway as Gwen drove her buggy down the driveway. Though she hadn’t been eager to speak with Gwen, she was far less eager to be alone with Calvin. The silence between them lengthened.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come over last night. I should have.”

Thinking of how upset she’d been, Lucy shook her head. “It was probably best you didn’t.

He swallowed, gazing at her face; his expression so sweet it felt like a caress. “Yes. I—I mean, we . . .” He cleared his throat. “I mean, we probably both needed some time.” Awkwardly, he handed her the diary. “I thought I’d best give this to you as well.”

With shaking hands, she accepted the leather-bound book—though she was almost too embarrassed to even look at it. Hastily, she put it on the railing of the Lapps’ porch.

Remembering just how she’d left him, she shrugged. “I suppose I should apologize for running off the way I did.”

“Don’t apologize. Everything between us, it’s all my fault.”

Setting the pail down, he sat on the step beside it and looked her way. “Would you mind sitting with me for a moment?”

Lucy bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if she minded or not. She was still upset with him, but the all-encompassing anger and resentment she’d once felt had faded.

“Please?” he asked, his voice scratchy and soft, like the word and the emotion had been pulled from somewhere deep inside of him.

It struck a nerve, or perhaps it struck all the hopes that she’d buried deep inside of her. The hopes that one day she could sit with a man and not be afraid. Slowly, Lucy sat down next to him, primly clasping her palms over her knees. Looked straight ahead so she wouldn’t be tempted to notice his blue eyes.

His muscles relaxed, making her realize that he was just as tense.

Finally, he spoke. “Lucy? Are you afraid of me?”

Startled, she turned to him. “I’m not.”

“I would feel terrible if you were.” Quietly, he said, “I’ve never laid a hand on anyone in anger. Please, believe me.”

Reminding herself that she was far stronger than she used to be, Lucy forced herself to say what she was feeling. “Though I can’t imagine you hitting me, I have to say that when I found out you read my journal—well, that hurt a lot. ”

“I know.” After a pause, he said, “Perhaps one day you’ll understand that my intentions weren’t cruel.”

Cruel. Such a terrible, harsh word. Nerves jangling inside her, she swallowed. “I don’t think you can be cruel, Calvin. I know how you were with me on the trip. And Katie, too.”

“Lucy . . . Paul hurt you a lot, didn’t he?”

She nodded. Oh, she ached to run away, but Lucy knew it was time to face her past, to speak about it. She couldn’t continue the rest of her life reliving things she pushed to the back of her mind.

And so she gathered her courage, and spoke. “Calvin, Paul was a man who liked things his way all the time. But his wishes changed. They changed so much, I never knew what he wanted, not really.” She darted a glance at Calvin.

He sat motionless, listening intently to her.

Taking a deep breath, she continued: “His moods were mercurial. Some days, it would be fine if I only swept the floor. Other times, he yelled at me when it wasn’t mopped.” Lowering her voice, she added, “And one time, he made me wash it with my hands at night.” She closed her eyes, hating the memories. Hating the fact that she’d sat beside him on the way to church the next day—knowing that everyone imagined he was so devout and good.

“Oh, Lucy,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.” Reaching out, Calvin took her hand and placed it between his. Warming her skin, warming the bitter memories.

Another moment passed. Slowly, the painful memories lifted and she became more aware of the feeling that was brewing between the two of them.

“Lucy, do you ever think you will marry again?” he asked.

Too self-conscious to meet his gaze, she looked at their joined hands. “I don’t know. I used to think I’d never marry again. That I’d never trust any man. But now . . . now I’m starting to wonder differently.”

“Do you fear all men will turn into . . . a person like Paul?”

“Nee.” Though it was so, so hard, Lucy forced herself to keep talking. “I know enough women to realize that all men don’t treat their wives like I was treated. But . . . I don’t know if I will ever forget how trapped I felt.” In a burst of clarity, she murmured, “That’s what I’m afraid of, Calvin. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to live day-to-day without fear.”

“Perhaps what you need is time?”

“I suppose so.” It sounded so simple, but to Lucy, it was anything but.

He released her hand and stood up.

Inwardly, Lucy sighed. He probably couldn’t wait to leave. And, well, there wasn’t much more to be said, anyway . . .

But instead of leaving, he reached out, clasped the pail of berries, and scooted it between them. “Calvin, what in the world?”

He grinned. “Let’s start things over. Right this very moment.”

“Calvin?” What was he talking about?

“How about you let me sit here with you for a while, and we just enjoy the moment? How about we just sit and eat berries?”

His comment startled a laugh—which was almost as startling as the realization that she did want to sit with him for a little bit longer. “Calvin, this is silly—”

“I don’t think so.”

“And I’ve got chores . . . Aunt Jenna’s going to wonder why I didn’t dust like I told her I would . . .”

“She won’t care. I promise.” Looking in the pail, he examined the pile of berries; then, with a satisfied look, he plucked one out. “Now this is a perfect blackberry.”

Drawn into his silliness, Lucy examined it. Indeed, it was as perfectly formed as any she’d ever seen. And the color was a beautiful shade—right in between black and purple. “God had to be pleased with that one, for sure.”

Still holding it, he looked at it this way and that. “I think you’re right. Lucy, I would venture a guess that this berry right here is the best in the whole pail.”

There were at least a hundred berries in that pail. “The best, hmm?”

“Do you think it’s as sweet as it looks?”

“I surely have no idea.”

He brought it to her lips. “Taste it and see, why don’tcha?”

Before she could stop herself, Lucy opened her lips and let Calvin feed her. She was so shocked, she closed her mouth quickly. Narrowly missing his fingers.

“Easy now,” he murmured. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. So . . . how does it taste?”

Lucy bit. Instantaneously, the bittersweet juice exploded in her mouth. Worried that juice would somehow run down her chin, she swallowed quickly. “It’s delicious.”

His gaze turned warmer. “I’m glad of that.”

The tension between them was as electric as the lightning the night they met. Lucy was aware of every bit of him. Of the way he held his shoulders back, so proud and strong. Of his height, and his strength.

How his smiles came so easily. And how he always seemed to be aware of her. As aware as she was of him.

Seeking to keep things light, she tilted her chin up. “I’m quite sure that berry was the best of the batch.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see about that,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. After choosing another, he popped one into his own mouth. “Hmm . . . maybe I was wrong. This one was pretty good, too.”

Unable to stop herself, she started laughing. “Calvin Weaver, what am I going to do with you?”

“Sit here and eat berries with me. Just for a little while.” His expression earnest, he eyed her. “Can you do that, Lucy? Can you just sit with me for a little while and enjoy the day?”

She had things to do. They had things to talk about.

But none of that seemed as important as sitting next to him, as feeling that same little rush of emotion that she’d now come to anticipate whenever he was near. “You know what? I can sit with you for a spell,” she said, plucking out a berry for herself. “I would very much like to enjoy the day. At least for a little while.”

Calvin nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”