“No.” He hated the answer. Wished he could do something about it.
“I figured you ... would have said something, but there’s still ... a piece of me that hopes.”
“Me too, sir.” He shifted toward the door. “I better get on home. Get some rest, Peter. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
The older man nodded and closed his eyes.
Joshua’s resolve nudged him, and he whispered to Anna. “I need a moment of your time.” He didn’t wait for a response as he walked out the door and toward the kitchen. Would she follow? Her soft footfalls behind him gave him a bit of hope.
“Josh?” She hadn’t called him that since he left. There was a hitch in her voice.
“I was hoping we could talk.” He turned and gazed into her dark eyes. Rich like coffee with a splash of cream. He blinked away the thoughts and studied her face. “Is something wrong?”
“I need to ask you a favor.” She tugged at the cuffs of her sleeves.
“All right.”
“Would you help me with a project for Dad?” Stepping toward him, she kept her voice soft and low. “He seems to be discouraged and I’d like to lift his spirits, keep him on the road to recovery.”
“What can I do to help?”
“When I was a little girl, he used to love to talk to me about plants and flowers. But I didn’t inherit my mother’s green thumb. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent my life sketching and drawing dead things. Not just dead. Beyond dead—fossilized.” Her half laugh was a good sign that she was getting comfortable with him again. “But I have an idea.”
He smiled with her. “All right. I’m all ears.”
“Would you go with me to ask Julian if he would teach me how to garden? Maybe he could give me some advice about what to plant and how to take care of it. Then I would need your help to bring it about. I’d like to put a garden outside Dad’s window, give him something beautiful to look at.”
Spending more time with her was, of course, exactly what he wanted to do. “I’d love to help. I still have things to do at the homestead to help out, but I think it can be arranged. There’s plenty of daylight nowadays.”
“Thank you.” For the first time since he’d been home, she looked at him without any walls up. No guarded expression. No apprehension in her eyes.
“But this means that you’ll have to stop avoiding me.” He held her gaze. Could she tell he was teasing?
She shook her head at him but smiled. “Let’s go outside.”
“All right.” He followed her out the door.
“Shall we walk?” Pushing errant strands of hair off her face, she didn’t wait for an answer and headed toward the creek.
It had been their favorite place to sit and chat.
Rather than push, he waited for her to open up. They strolled side by side for several minutes.
“I’m sorry for my behavior since you came home.” She held a bit of her skirts in one hand while the other hung free. At least she wasn’t fidgeting. That would be a sure sign of her discomfort.
“I’m sorry for how we left things.”
She stopped and turned toward him. “I know. I’m sorry, too.” Her eyes closed in a long blink. “I read a couple of your letters.” Then she started walking again.
He had no choice but to follow. The silence was deafening. He counted to twenty. “And?”
“I loved you, Josh. With all my heart. I was crushed—beyond crushed—when you left. It would have been difficult enoughto face you leaving even knowing that we had a future to look forward to, but with how things happened ... I cried in my room for days. Refused to eat. It was the worst time of my life.”
He deserved that. But he hated hearing it. “I’m so sorry.”
She held up a hand. “I forgive you. I do. But I need to apologize. I’m sorry. And I hope that you forgive me.”
“Oh, Anna.” He moved toward her, wanting more than anything to take her in his arms. But he held himself back.
