“Not a young man. Not an angel. So what are you?”
“I don’t know. I thought I was a good man, but perhaps I’m not.”
Clara coughed again, this time the hacking rattle shook her entire body and the image of trees and grass wavered. The children no longer seemed alive but rather two-dimensional figures frozen in time, as did the man with the Bible. The drizzle no longer fell from the sky, it shimmered, suspended in midair.
“What’s happening?” He sensed himself slipping away.
“This is one of my paintings. I’ve painted this day a hundred times. Don’t worry, it will fade. In the end, I always wash it away.”
Just as she said it would, the gray clouds bled into the dissolving blue sky. Browns formed as the smudges from the sky blended with the autumn leaves. Like puddles of mud, the children melted away.
The casket covered in yellow roses swirled into a whirlpool of black where all the colors smeared into the center of the page. Clara stood before him covered in paint, no longer dressed in black or wrapped in a sweater, but wearing a stained, oversized artist’s smock.
“You see, Jonas, nothing lasts forever. Beauty fades, as do our memories. The only thing that continues on in this world is pain.”
Could she somehow relieve him of his heartache? The pain had been suffocating him. He couldn’t bear to look into his sweet Abilene’s eyes anymore, knowing that he was living a lie—lying to her.
“It’s a shame you’re not the angel I suspected.” She pivoted and walked away.
“Wait!” The vision smeared and blackness swallowed her silhouette. “Come back!”
When he opened his eyes and found himself at home in his den, he noticed the fire had burned low and was due for another log. Then he glanced at the woodpile and found his wife watching him, tears streaming from her eyes.
Abilene stood stock-still, her expression one of utter disbelief. Her face drained of blood. “You were dreaming.”
Unable to speak, unable to form a lie, at least not to his undeserving wife, he simply stared back at her, hoping she saw the agony he suffered at such treachery.
“Answer me!”
He swallowed, not ready to destroy them. Grief strangled his voice into a mere rasp. He rose to his feet. “Yes—”
“How long?” she interrupted. “How long have you kept this from me?”
Of course, she would be more upset that he had kept a secret from her. “Two months.”
She faced away from him.
“I didn’t want to hurt you, Abilene.”
“And yet, I can’t remember the last time I experienced happiness, Jonas. Since this secret came between us, you’ve done nothing but hurt me.”
“That wasn’t my intention. I was trying to protect you.”
“You can’t! You know better! There is no avoiding a calling from God!” Her voice cracked as she battled back a sob. “You brought lies into our home, our bedroom, and our marriage.” Her words quivered with emotion, and she swiped at her fallen tears. “If we had any time to spare, you’ve wasted it.”
Her sorrow crippled him. “I won’t go away. I’ll refuse the call,” he insisted, his voice thick with tears.
“Then you shall die as your uncle did. There’s no way to ignore a calling, Jonas. You, of all immortals, should know that.”
“I cannot accept that this is our fate.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
He took a step toward her only to have her step back. He deserved her rejection. So many days and nights he forced distance between them when she so obviously needed him. Still, her withdrawal gutted him.
“I need to hold you, Abilene. I need to hold you in my arms, right now in this moment. Please, no more distance.”
“I can’t touch you when you’ve been dreaming of someone else. A call is sacred.” Her lips trembled and twin tears fell. “I have no right to you, and I won’t let you follow your uncle’s fate.”
“Abilene, do not walk away from me!”
She stilled at the door but did not turn to face him. “Was I not a good wife to you, Jonas? An obedient wife?”
“You are the best wife a male could ask for.”
Her head nodded, ripples of unbraided hair trailing down her back. “At least I can rest easy knowing I did my job well.”
“We’re not through. Not yet anyway.” A vise locked around his heart. “I need you. Don’t turn your back on me, Abilene!”
She left the room.
Tears blurred his vision as she walked away from him. It was the first time in sixty years she denied him anything. Death would be merciful after living through this.
Chapter 11
Cain watched his brother shove another burnt biscuit into his mouth and frowned. “I don’t know how you can eat that,” he whispered to Adam while Annalise was busy basting a roast in the oven.
“What? I like my wife’s cooking.”
Cain reexamined his blackened roll and chucked the inedible briquette onto his plate. It landed with the subtlety of a paperweight. “I suppose that’s love.”