They were talking of Jacob when Caleb turned his truck onto the dirt driveway. Anne smiled a little at the reformed structure of what would be her father's workroom. The big spotlight that her father and Jacob had hung on the side of the barn when they wanted to work into the night, was hung again, it's light pouring through the structural beams. She could see the silhouette of her father bent slightly at the waist as he worked over his table.
Across the drive, there was a light on in the kitchen, where she knew her mother waited. She prayed again, not liking the fact that she was suddenly afraid of her own mother.
"Looks like your father's still going."
Anne smiled, "He's like a child with a new toy at Christmas. I'd like to check on him before we head in."
Caleb came around the truck and helped her out, then held her hand as they walked peacefully together. He stepped through the beams first, then turned to help her through. Neither saw the pleased look on Dan's face as he watched Caleb with his oldest, nor knew that his thoughts were wishing for a sense of promise and permanency.
Anne released Caleb's hand and turned full circle in the room before going to her father, "It's looking good, daddy," she said and stepped forward to press a kiss to his cheek.
Caleb stepped back to watch the easy affection. She was still, he thought, her father's little girl, and there was still something of a prince of him in her eyes when she looked at her father.
"You're doing pretty good for an almost 50 year old."
Dan Belmont held his oldest daughter's forearms and gently rubbed the tender skin. "I'm a little bit older today then two days ago, princess. You took a couple years off my life with that fall."
He looked around the structure he'd built first with his son, in it's new form and perhaps new purpose, "Jacob wouldn't have wanted this building sitting around in waist. You and Priscilla have been right the past few years. I've let things go, and I'm sorry."
"You've done fine," she whispered, laying a hand on her father's arm. "It's just time, that's all. Why don't you and Caleb talk some of that male talk. I'm going to head in. It's been a long day."
Anne walked by Caleb and grasped his hand, meeting his eyes in appreciation for what he had done for her father and the gentle love that matched what she saw in his eyes. Leaving her men alone, she stepped through the beams and headed toward the house. She smiled a little, thinking of her father and remembering Jacob.
Maybe the whole project would mean less without Jacob there to help with the day to day crafting after it was finished, but it was giving her father new life. Maybe, it would just be something different. New plans for changing directions.
Anne took a deep breath and looked around once more. It had been in this yard, the last time she'd seen him, as he's stepped off the front porch with her as she left for school again. He'd given her a hug, laughing at one of his own private jokes that he loved to say at his sisters' expense, then he'd promised to visit and waved her on. She'd watched him through the rear view mirror, driving away in her own compact car, as he's waved one last time then headed out to the pentagon shaped skeleton.
"Where have you been all afternoon?"
Anne let the screen door close behind her and turned to look at her mother who had apparently spoken without looking up. She was at the kitchen table, surrounded by the lists of planning she'd been working with for weeks.
"I took Caleb around town, out to the lake. I wanted him to see this place up here."
"Don't you think you should be resting?" she asked, still not looking at her daughter.
"He drove," Anne pointed out, keeping her position on the opposite side of the table. "About all I did was talk and occasionally point a finger down a road."
Susan frowned over the lists in front of her, then finally looked up at Anne, "If you were feeling good, you had responsibilities here. Your father's 50th birthday party is tomorrow. Family has been coming by left and right."
Maybe she had responsibilities, Anne thought, a little guiltily, but she was also being put bitterly in the middle of her mother's grief. "Mom," she said quietly, "I'm not going to get into this right now."
"I wasn't trying to get into anything with you, Anne. You wouldn't listen anyway."
"Look," Anne took a deep breath and prayed for a measured amount of calm, "You didn't want Caleb to come, I know that, but because of circumstances out of my control he's here and I want him here and he wouldn't be anywhere else but here after what happened yesterday."
"This weekend is your father's."
"No kidding. So why are you making this about me?" Anne's voice raised a little as the frustration and pain boiled over. She took another breath, pressing her hands together in front of her. "I would have rather things turned out a bit differently myself. I didn't want to take a tumble off a horse, or make the family worry hours over me at the hospital. I shouldn't have been out there with Eric yesterday morning and you know it. You pressured me onto that horse and you pressured Eric into taking me."
"Don't you dare speak to me—"
"Let me finish! If you had let Caleb come in the first place—"
"Anne," Eric stood in the doorway coming in from the living room, "You have no right to speak to your mother that way."
"Stay out of this," she whirled around and faced him, "Just stay out. You always jump in on family arguments and they never get finished, " she turned on her mother, "this is a family discussion, between you and me. It's time we faced it. Eric and I are not going to be married."
"I never said you were."
"Then let me live my life. Let me make my decisions and decide where I live and who I love."
"I've never stepped in between your decisions."
"Oh, haven't you? Who said Caleb wasn't allowed to come this weekend?"
"That was my decision."
"Yeah, and for a weekend of just family, Eric's been around an awful lot."
"Eric's family. Maybe you're the one that's not."
Anne stepped back, surprised, struggling desperately with the rage boiling inside of her, "I'm the one that is."
"What is family measured by, Anne? Where have you been the past few years? Frolicking in the city. We raised you better then that."
"What?"
"I will not have you bring that part of that life you live into this house. Not ever again. That man is not good for you, and it's time that it was said. You have always belonged here. This is your home. Your place. If you would just open up your blinders you could embrace all that God has blessed you with."
Anne swallowed back the hurt tried to hold her head high. There was no use telling her mother that she needed to look in the mirror when she talked about blinders and blessings.
Fighting tears, she turned and walked out.
Caleb sensed something was wrong when he stepped through the beams minutes after Anne had left him. He'd heard the screen door slam above the whirl of Dan's power saw.
It was Anne that had run from the house. He saw her silhouette standing by the corral, her face buried in her arms on the wooden fence.
He walked to her, his heart turning over at the carefully controlled sobs. His hands fisted at his side, then opened as he reached up to gently touched her, "Anne."
She spun away from him, her eyes wide with misery and unshed tears, "No more secrets, Caleb. No more hiding."
"What?"
She sniffed and turned back to gaze across the land, "I've just been thinking. We're not doing anything for anybody by pretending we're just dating. This whole nightmare is just going to keep unfolding."
"What happened?" he stepped toward her now and reached for her again. This time, she leaned in, accepted his comfort.
She shook her head against his chest, "She's making everything between us dirty in her mind. It's not."
"No, it's not."
"We haven't done anything wrong."
"No," he ran a hand down her hair, hoping to sooth, praying for calm even as he struggled over his own anger toward her mother.
"Do you have my ring?" she asked, leaning back so she could see his eyes. "Do you have it with you?"
"Yeah—"
"Put it on my hand," she lifted her hand, splayed her trembling fingers across his chest. "It's time we told them. It's time it was over."
Caleb looked at the desperation in his eyes and fought a battle with his own. He remembered the trust just building in her father's eyes, the healing that was taking place. It was a fragile bubble, for both of them.
"I will—but not yet."
She tried to push away from him, tired, panicking. Her voice was shaking. There were tears running slowly down her cheeks. "Don't take her side. Please don't take her side."
"I'm not. Anne," he held on, despite the pain he knew she was feeling as she struggled against him. "Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down," she pushed back her eyes wide with panic. "Don't tell me to feel calm when all everyone wants to do is control me."
"Not me, Anne. Not me. I love you. Look at me," he pleaded, sighing gently when her struggles calmed and her beautiful, if hurt and confused eyes looked up at him. His voice was soft, calm when all she could see were storms, "I love you. Let me do this my way. Let me talk to your father first. Let me ask for his blessing."
"But if he says no—"
"I don't think that's going to happen, but things will be so much worse if we surprise them."
"Anne."
They both turned when Eric spoke her name. He stood, not ten feet away, having walked from the house. He looked, Anne thought, young again. Uncomfortable. She wondered how much he'd heard, and how much he'd keep a secret. He slowly stuffed his hands in his pockets as they looked at him, growing more ill at ease.
"This isn't a great time, Eric."
"I thought there was a rule never to leave angry."
"Maybe in a different time," she turned in Caleb's arms to face Eric, a bit relieved to feel the gentle way they settled around her waist, "Did you come out here because of what I said to my mother, or because of what she said to me?"
"A little of both."
"I'm not sorry. She can't kick me out of the family because she likes you better and she can't get it out of her head that we're not dating anymore. And stop looking at me as if you don't know what anger is. If I remember correctly, we had our share of fights."
"This isn't about us."
"And this isn't the time," Caleb spoke up.
"Look who speaks up now," Eric muttered, but his concentration was on Anne. "You knew what his presence would do to your mother and look at what's happened now."
"His presence?" Anne stormed and pushed away from Caleb. "Has it ever occurred to you that it's your presence that's interfering?"
"I've been here for your mother, when it should have been you. I've been the one to listen."
"Hey, now wait a second," seeing the fire light again in Anne's eyes, Caleb stepped around her and faced Eric himself. "Maybe you need to stop putting all of this on Anne."
"And maybe you need to stay out of it. Ever since you've been here, hot city-slicker, you've been trying to change things, putting you're hands all over this farm as if you own it, like you did Anne."
"Stop it—" Anne cried out, stepping between them, sensing the shock and anger in Caleb that she'd felt in herself when her mother had thrown the same accusation out earlier, "both of you." She put her hand on Caleb's chest, gently warning him to back down, knowing Eric's quick temper and Caleb's strength. "Eric, you were right when you said this isn't about us. It never has been. It's been about Jacob."
"Then why can't you stick around. Help it end. You don't know what kind of nightmare your mother lives in everyday because she can't get her balance with you in the city doing all kind of unmentionable things."
"Anne's virtue is a pure as when she left here," Caleb's voice was quiet, controlled, but the anger vibrated from him. "I'm getting really tired of everyone assuming the worst of her. And if this is love you want her to dwell in up here, she's better off elsewhere."
The rage fired first from Eric. Anne, seeing it coming, stepped around Caleb and right into Eric's first swing.
She hit the ground and gasped as her breath left her. She lay, sprawled out on the ground, her muscles throbbing, new bruises over old.
"Anne."
Someone was touching her, someone was trying to lift her. She didn't know who, she didn't care.
"Don't touch me . . . don't . . ." she couldn't get her breath, couldn't find her balance.
"See what you did?" she heard Eric cry out.
"Caleb?" she called out, afraid their tempers would burst over her any second. Her responsibility was first to him and only to him. "Take me in. Help me in."
"You alright?" he asked as he ran gentle hands down her arms, over the fresh scrapes the stung her palms before he lifted her into his arms. It took all of his power not to head straight for his truck to take her home, away from this.
Anne leaned into Caleb and held on, "I'm so tired. So very tired." She looked over at Eric, noticed the shock and the grief in his eyes. "Maybe my mother won't confide in me because you're always stepping in," she whispered, then turned her face into Caleb's neck and breathed him in.
"I got you."
"She'll get mad. It'll just make her madder," she whispered weakly, but burrowed into Caleb anyway and let the world slip slowly away.
The morning that would start the celebration of her father's 50th birthday, Anne sat alone on the front porch and watched the morning come alive. They had a few chickens that liked to meander peacefully around the front yard and a few tom cats that wondered around slyly looking for some fat, rodent prey that liked the creep in the barn. A single rooster named Old Henry, sat on the fence, quiet now that his daily wake up call was completed.
Growing up on her parent's farm had given her so much, it was hard to wallow in bitterness for long. It was a beautiful place, not only because of the memories, but also because it was surrounded by mountains and located in the greenest part of the state so that the rolling hills were vibrant with color. She'd been riding horses since she was old enough to sit on her father's lap, working in the barn and birthing calves since she could remember.
She'd experienced the wonderful feelings of falling into that first young love right here on her front porch, leaving for both her proms with her mom and dad watching her from the front door. Eric had kissed her for the first time, right here at Christmas time, under the traditional mistletoe that hung from the porch rafters.
There was room for softball games in the yard. They could camp on their land far enough away to be out of view of the house, but close enough to run home when they were afraid.
And who had they run to? Who's arms had opened so willingly to comfort their fear? It hadn't just been her father, but her mother as well. They had both been rocks of stability and love. Her parents had always been at church, making sure that their children were there for Sunday morning and evening, Wednesday night, and the occasional weekend activities. She couldn't remember ever missing a Vacation Bible School or a youth camp. Even though things had been hard money wise at times, her father had always made sure he budgeted for the extra church expenses on top of his tithe.
Those years seemed so far away. It all amounted to a time that could be labeled on a file folder in her mind as ‘Before Jacob's Death.' The car that took him had done more than take his life, it had stripped the life out of her childhood home. She nearly wept as she took the time now to pray for her mother, for her father, and for the healing that needed to be done in her home.
When she heard Eric's car come up the drive, she neither stood, nor did she look up until he parked in his usual spot and shut the door behind him.
"Don't get up," he said, holding out a hand. "I just came by for a moment," he walked to the porch and stood in front of her looking tired, miserable, but resolute. "I'm glad you're up and alone. I wanted to apologize over last night."
Anne tried a laugh, but when it came out weak, she simply shook her head. "It's over."
"Yeah. And it probably should have been over a long time ago. I did a lot of soul searching last night, all night, and I realized a few things. You were right, for one, this whole feud has never been about us, but we've both been put in the middle."
He sounded miserable, and a little bitter, but Anne didn't say anything, knowing Eric well enough to understand the bitterness.
"And you were also right in that I've stepped between you and your mother often enough. If she wanted me to be Jacob for her, then I was Jacob. I can't tell you the number of times she called me that."
"Eric—"
"No, wait," he hated the misery in her voice, "I never let it bother me—though it should have shocked me, it didn't. You're mother was always a mother to me, especially when mine booted me out. Suddenly there Susan was, treating me like part of the family, and I wanted to be part of the family. And when Jacob died, I didn't want to see how much it was holding her back to hold onto me. I didn't let myself see it."
"Don't blame yourself, Eric. You have been so good for her. I want you to understand that I am thankful for everything you have done for her."
"Maybe, and maybe it's time I step back, follow my own plans for awhile. I haven't always been so truthful with your mother, thought I wanted both of you to believe that I was. You have Caleb, and I have a girl of my own in Silver City."
"Eric—"
"I almost told you that morning on the horse ride, but then you fell and things happened so quickly. Then I didn't tell you later because I knew your mother was pressuring you. I was afraid it would come out between you if things exploded like they did last night. I didn't want her to find out like that. I let her have her dreams, selfishly because they didn't interfere with mine. And it made her happy to plot and plan our lives away."
"Anyway," he took a deep breath and let it out, attempting a smile, "I decided last night to step back awhile. Let things work themselves out over time. Give your mother the space she needs to heal."
"I was wrong last night, Eric," Anne said softly, "you are part of the family. Another brother."
He chuckled and reached out to run a gentle hand along her cheek, "That was always the problem between us, wasn't it?"
Anne nodded and looked up into the eyes of the man who she'd kissed first, her friend, her confidant, her keeper of so many good memories. There was so much space between them, she didn't know if they could ever go back to that old companionship. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. After all, she had Caleb and he had his girl in Silver City. "We learned a lot together. And it seems," she added rubbing her shoulder, "you finally improved that right hook Jacob always warned you about."
He chuckled, but there was still misery in his eyes. For a few moments companionable silence surrounded them in comfort, before he turned away.
"Eric," she stopped him, and waited for him to turn back, "is this girl a nice girl?"
"Yeah. I think you'd like her. About as much as I like Caleb—but you don't have to tell him that until he forgives me for punching you last night."
She touched the bruise that ran along her shoulder and smiled, "I won't until I forgive you," she teased, then sat quietly as she watched him walk away.
Another turn in the page of life, she thought, knowing that it was a chapter on healing, forgiveness and moving on.
Out of all the things she was thankful for, what seemed to be the most important was that Jacob had neither died with a fruitless life, nor was he wasting away now. Anne smiled a little, knowing that Jacob was having the time of his eternal life in heaven, celebrating with Jesus with as much passion and love as he'd had for Him on earth. Eric had been his friend first, she remembered, staying over at the house with Jacob long before he started dating Anne. It had been Jacob that had led Eric to Christ, Jacob who had brought his best friend to Christ, not to forget the countless other seeds planted on the football and baseball teams. He'd had such a passion. . . .
"Good morning."
She smiled slightly, but since she was sore, she didn't turn around, but lifted a hand in welcome for Caleb as he opened the screen door and slipped out.
"You're up early."
"I needed to think. To remember some things."
"You okay?"
"Bruised," she looked up at him as he stood in front of her like Eric had not minutes ago, knowing that Caleb understood that the bruises were from inner emotions as well as the physical ones. She didn't ask him how it had gone with her father, knowing that he would tell her when the time was right. Maybe it was fear that held her back, maybe it was wisdom. "But I'm better."
"Was that Eric that just left?"
"Yeah . . . he had a few things to say before he takes a few steps back for awhile. Including," she added when she saw the struggle between calm and storm in Caleb's eyes, "that he has a girlfriend my mom doesn't know about. He was going to tell me the other day—then I fell and everything just went crazy."
"Just a bit. You feel good enough to take that hike?"
"Maybe by this afternoon," she said dryly.
"How about a walk?"
She slowly pushed herself up and without comment gave him her hand. As they walked down toward the barn, she filled him in on what Eric had said, along with the rest of the memories and emotions that she had faced that morning. She didn't think of it as odd when they reached the corral and walked along the fence further away from the house. Caleb stopped with her and prayed with her for her family, for her mother, and praising God with such eloquent words for what he had given them in each other. His hands, strong and callused, confident and familiar, held onto hers with steady purpose.
Then, without closing the prayer, he released one of her hands and reached up, tipping her chin up. She opened her eyes and gazed at him.
There was such trust, Caleb thought, and so many dreams for their future in her eyes. He thought of the woman he'd met at the hospital that night, looking so efficient and serious. She was so much more than what he'd hoped for in the original package. And she was his.
"Your dad and I had a long talk last night, and when he gets back, he wants to talk to you. I think it's safe to say that your mine for keeps," he winked and with a boyish grin reached into his pocket and pulled out the sturdy, traditional engagement ring that had been on her finger already.
He watched the delight in her eyes turn wistful as the reality of what slipping her ring on her finger now meant. It wasn't just a symbol of their love, but of love and grief and the hard-won freedom they now had to love.
"Caleb . . ."
He reached up, thumbed away the single tear that rolled down her cheek. "I think this belongs to you, princess."
She held up her left hand and watched him take her hand, and though it trembled more now than it had the first time, he held it in his own and slid the ring into place. It's rightful place.
Then, when he leaned to kiss her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. His arms slowly came around her, strong and secure.
Anne slowly pulled back from his kiss, but remaining in his arms, she leaned back to look at him. He was hers, now and forever, and the knowledge made her giddy. It was a beautiful images to think of Caleb going to her father, asking for permission and blessing, to think of her father giving permission and blessing.
And then his words came back to her, "What do you mean dad's going to talk to me when he gets back?"
"He left last night with your mother for your grandparent's old place. He said that neither one of them had really had time to grieve or let themselves grieve. There were always people around. And I guess he wanted privacy for your mother when he talked to her, because she's not going to take any of this very well."
Anne frowned over the thought, knowing that it would break her mother's heart to face the past, and she loved her father so much more for knowing he would stay through the sudden hurricane of emotion and anger, holding on until the grief settled into gentle rain. Knowing how much anger her mother was holding onto, Anne knew that the past night had been rough for both of them, "It'll mean giving up Jacob to her."
"And maybe once she has, she realize that she's not really giving Jacob up at all, but letting in a new life for herself with new family. Maybe they'll get some counseling, maybe they'll travel. Your father wants things to be different. I think he wants his wife back as much as you want your mother."
They prayed then, holding onto the God's promise of love, protection and peace. And when they finished, they held each other as the morning grew warmer.
"So, I guess, Ms. Belmont, we're officially engaged now."
"I guess so," she said and help up her ring so that it caught a ray of sunlight and sparkled. She giggled, then lifted up on her toes and kissed him.
Epilogue
Anne found Caleb at his office building, handling his mother's world-class design business. She stopped at the threshold of his office and peaked in. He was wearing a suit and tie, clean-shaved and wearing the rings his grandmother had given him at each step Caleb had made in school and the business. A total of three.
It was such a start contrast to the constuction worker look she had greated on Saturday down at one of their new sites . . . their own site as he worked with his brother and a few of his crewmen to build their house.
"Where's your mother?"
He looked up and smiled, then stood as she walked across the room toward him, "She had a project downtown. Always on the go. Don't pout so. I'll begin to think you're marrying me for my mother instead of my money," he leaned across his desk and accepted her quick kiss of greeting. "What brings you downtown?"
"I was hoping to be taken to lunch, and thought it might be with your mother, since she's in town. I wanted to show her a few of the clippings Priscilla and I found."
"You know mom. I'll call her, see if she can meet us," he sat down and leaned back in her chair, enjoying the few minutes he had of just looking at her, looking relaxed in a simples pair of black slacks and yellow sweater. She's taken a leave of absence from the hospital in preparation for the wedding and the extended honeymoon he had planned. After all, their lives would be pulled back in two directions once they were married. His family was more then willing to deal with the business temporarily and the hospital would have Anne anyway they could get her, it seemed. "You going to let me see?"
"Nope. It's confidential."
"And you're awfully chipper and beautiful this morning," her cheeks were rosy and her eyes were sparkling. It was more then the wedding plans, or the extra sleep she was getting these days. "What else do you have up your sleeve?"
"I heard from my parents this morning. They should be home in the next few days. Dad's determined to not push themselves to get back to fast."
"How's your mom?"
"Happy—as vibrant as a bride on her honeymoon. I haven't heard her sound so . . . young in . . . forever, I guess. She talked for an hour about the lake that they were camping by, and the way they've both been catching fish, so forth and so on. And dad. He's always wanted to travel, and now that mom's willing to do it, they're both making plans for their next extended camping trip."
Caleb smiled, now a comfortable member of the Belmont family. He had been up with Anne several times, helping her father and William on the building that was now within days of completion. Then there was Priscilla's wedding, a weekend of activity that had seemed so therapeutic for her mother. Not only was there the planning, but the hosting.
Susan Belmont was doing wonderful and had talked with Caleb several times in private, taking him in as her confidant.
It hadn't been easy. Dan's 50th birthday party had been clouded with sadness and tension. Susan had come back with her husband from the lake house in the afternoon, looking tired and withdrawn. She'd shut herself up in her room, where Dan had spent the majority of his birthday party. No one had every asked what had gone on up at the lake, but no one needed to know but Dan and Susan. Anne's mother had finally found a way to mourn.
And while accepting Caleb into the family, she'd also accepted Eric's girlfriend then, and another one now—this one a bit more serious—into the family. It seemed Susan was letting herself love again, and her family, extended and otherwise, had grown into a tightly knit group of extensions and addendums.
