It was a dreary, gray morning, the kind that made Jo want to stay in bed all day. She rolled onto her side, pulled the covers up higher around her neck and closed her eyes again.
She jumped as the door banged open. "Mother? Can I go into town with Nick today?" Rob asked, jumping on her bed next to her.
"May I," Jo corrected her son with a yawn.
"Aw, Mother," Rob said, obviously annoyed by the correction. "May I go into town with Nick today?"
Jo looked at the clock – just past 5am. "Wait until morning and I will speak with him," Jo answered. She opened the covers for him to join her.
"It is morning now Mother. Nick is outside working," Rob said, looking out the window.
Jo groaned. "Doesn’t that man ever sleep?" She looked at her son. "It is still very early Rob. Everyone else is still sleeping. Come lay down with me and we will speak with him later."
Rob gazed longingly at Nick as he worked in the early morning light. Then he laid down next to his mother and went back to sleep.
Later that morning, Jo and Rob were in the kitchen when Nick walked in. "Howdy Nick!" Rob said.
Nick smiled. "Howdy Li’l Sailor. G’mornin’ Jo."
"Nick, can I go into town with you today?" Rob asked cheerfully.
"Ya mean ‘May I’," Nick corrected.
Rob smiled, laughing. "Oh yeah. May I go into town with you today?"
Jo was surprised at the exchange. She looked at Nick who just shrugged.
"Sure Li’l Sailor, but only if it’s alright with yer Ma."
Rob beamed as Jo nodded her head yes.
"And if ya got yer chores done," Nick added.
Rob’s face fell. "They’re not done yet."
"Well I’m not leavin’ yet, so get a move on if ya wanna go."
Rob ran out of the house quickly, shouting, "All right Nick. Yipee!"
"Guess I got time fer a cup o’ coffee after all," Nick said, smiling to Jo as he went to the stove. "Will ya join me?"
"It would be my pleasure. Thank you for waiting for him."
"Ah, that’s alright. I don’t mind. It’ll be fun ta have some company."
Nick poured two cups of coffee and they sat down together. Their arms touched but neither one made an effort to move away.
"He loves when you call him Little Sailor."
"Yeah?" Nick smiled. "My Pa used ta call me Li’l Man. Made me feel good inside. Wanted Rob to feel like that, too."
"He does."
Jo was surprised at Nick’s mention of his father, but she was not surprised at the nickname he had given his son. She believed that Nick had worked every day of his life to live up to it.
Nick looked at Jo uneasily, suddenly aware of what he had just shared. "So, what time is Amy’s party tonight?" he queried, changing the subject quickly, which did not surprise Jo either.
"8 o’clock, and I am so excited about it," Jo said. "Aren’t you?"
"I’ll be with you, so that’s excitin’."
"You don’t want to go?" Jo asked, disappointed.
"Yeah, I do wanna go. Sounds like fun." He winked at her. "But the best part’ll be bein’ with you."
"Don’t look like we’ll be goin’ on no picnic today, L’il Sailor," Nick said to Rob on their way back from town.
"Aw Nick, but I want to," Rob whined.
"I know, but we can’t go on no picnic in the rain. We’ll go ‘nother time, I promise. Now if we can just git this wagon movin’ I could git ya outta this rain."
"Are we stuck, Nick?" Rob asked nervously.
"Just a little. All this rain’s made the road mighty muddy. Think ya can handle the reins while I push?" Nick asked.
"Sure I can," Rob answered excitedly.
Nick handed Rob the reins and climbed down out of the wagon into the ankle high mud. He looked at Rob and saw him shivering. "I can’t push too good with this on," Nick said unbuttoning his coat. "Will ya hold it fer me?"
"Sure Nick." He helped Rob slip his arms into the coat and then smiled. Rob smiled happily flopping the long sleeves.
Nick sloshed through the mud and placed his hands on the spokes of one wheel. "Alright Li’l Sailor, easy does it." Rob snapped the reins just the way Nick had shown him as Nick pushed hard, but nothing happened. They tried a few more times with no luck.
"S’pose we outta start walkin’ Li’l Sailor."
"We can do it, Nick. Just one more time. Come on."
Rob’s enthusiasm and confidence was contagious. Nick laughed and nodded his head. "Alright."
Rob snapped the reins as Nick pushed. The wagon lurched forward and then stopped short. Nick’s feet slipped and he landed chest down in the mud. As he tried to get up he slipped again and landed on his back. Finally, he stood up. Rob laughed hysterically at the sight of Nick covered head to toe in mud.
Nick looked down at himself and began to laugh, too.
"Sorry Nick."
"That’s alright."
"I suppose we ought to start walking, huh, Nick?"
Nick looked at Rob and remembered the endless, exhausting miles of mud and snow that he and his father had trudged through while looking for work when he was a boy.
"S’pose so. But you ain’t walkin’. I am. You’re gonna ride." Nick picked up a sack from the back of the wagon and filled it to the top. He slipped the rope over his head and across his shoulder.
He unhitched the horse and sat Rob on him. "Can ya hold somethin’ up there Li’l Sailor?"
"Sure I can, Nick."
Nick picked out a small box from the back of the wagon and handed it to the boy. He noticed that Rob’s small hat was not keeping him very dry. "Would ya hold this, too?" he asked, placing his hat on Rob’s head.
"Sure Nick. I’ll take good care of it."
Then Nick hoisted a crate onto his shoulder, took the reins in his other hand and, clicking his tongue, began to lead the horse through the mud and muck.
"Oh, you poor thing," Jo said to Rob when they had returned home.
"I’m all right Mother. Nick took good care of me," Rob boasted.
"I can see that," Jo said as she helped her son out of Nick’s coat and hat. She smiled broadly. "Where is he, anyway?"
"I’m right out here, Jo," Nick said from outside.
"I’ll take Rob upstairs and get him into some dry clothes Aunt Jo," Bess offered.
"Thank you, Bess."
"Yipee!" Rob shouted as he held his cousin’s hand and walked up the stairs. "What an adventure."
Jo moved towards the door, calling Nick.
"Don’t have ta yell, Jo. I’m right here," she heard him say.
Then she saw him in the doorway, laughing. "Don’t think ya want me in there."
Jo looked at him covered in mud and laughed, too.
"You’re a mess," she said. "Come on in and get cleaned up."
"Nah, I gotta go git the rest of the things from the wagon."
"They can wait until the rain stops, Nick."
"No, I need ‘em for toni---". He stopped himself, a little smile on his face."
"Tonight? We are supposed to go to Amy’s party tonight. What do you need for that?"
"Ain’t gonna make it in this weather, Jo. We’ll just stay here together."
Jo looked disappointed.
"Well, don’t look so thrilled ‘bout bein’ alone with me," Nick teased.
"It’s not that. I was just so looking forward to this party."
"Don’t worry, Jo. I got somethin’ special in mind."
"Ooh, what?"
"It’s a surprise."
"I hate surprises," Jo said grumpily, looking away.
She looked at Nick again and realized that he was shivering. "You’re soaked to the bone. I insist that you come in here and get dried off and warmed up."
"Ya sure?" He grinned, taking another look at his filthy clothes.
"Of course. Just don’t get anything dirty." Jo laughed. He wiped his boots off on the mat and went in.
Nick walked over to the fireplace to warm up and dry off, being careful not to touch anything. Jo came to him with a towel and began to clean the mud from his hands. Enjoying her gentle touch, he let her do it.
"Thank you for taking such good care of Rob. Your coat and hat are right here." She pointed to them hanging by the fireplace.
"Yer welcome."
Jo picked up a clean towel and began to clean the mud from his face. Again, he enjoyed it enough to let her do it.
"You told Rob that he reminds you of Ben?" Jo asked.
Nick smiled broadly. "Yeah."
"What did you mean by that?" Jo asked.
Nick detected the note of disapproval in her voice. His face fell. He moved her hand away gently. "Didn’t mean nothin’ bad, Jo. Ben was a great kid. Couldn’t ‘ave loved ‘im more if he was my own son." He shook his head. "Didn’t mean nothin’ bad by it."
Seeing his reaction, and hearing what the statement reflected about his feelings for Rob, Jo suddenly felt very guilty for asking. "I am sure you didn’t mean anything bad, Nick. Rob thinks very highly of you, too."
She picked up a clean towel and began to dry his hair, her body next to his. "I’m sorry," she said.
"That’s alright." He leaned down and kissed her gently on the neck.
She looked up at him and they gazed into each other’s eyes, lost in the moment. He took the towel from her hand, leaned down again and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips parted as she leaned her body into his.
Suddenly, he pulled away. "I’m gettin’ ya all dirty," he said awkwardly. Jo was surprised. "And I, uh, I gotta go git the rest of the things from the wagon," he continued as he backed up towards the door.
"Without your coat and hat?" Jo asked, turning away to reach for them.
She turned back to see him walking out the door. He jumped onto the horse bare back and headed down the road.
"Nick!" she called out as he rode away.
Promptly at 8 o’clock that same evening, Nick knocked on the front door of the house and waited for Jo to answer. He was clean-shaven and carrying a bouquet of flowers behind his back.
Jo opened the door and was surprised to see him there. "Well you look better than you did this afternoon." She laughed. "But, why didn’t you just come in?"
Nick did not answer. He stepped inside and said, "Buenas tardes, Jo, tu pareces bella. Estas son para ti."
"What?" She looked at him strangely.
"You look great. These flowers are for you."
"They are lovely. Thank you. Come on in. We can sit in the parlor. The children are upstairs."
"We have other plans, Jo, remember?"
"What is it?"
"Es una sorpresa."
"What?" Jo asked.
"It’s a surprise."
"I hate surprises. What is it?"
"Well, just be patient and you’ll find out soon enough." He spoke in Spanish again. "¿Senora, podria hacerme el favor?" Failing miserably at being patient she eagerly reached for his arm the moment he offered it.
He led her outside where his horse was waiting. "Nick, where are we going in this weather?"
"The barn."
"Why the horse then?"
"It’s a mess out here, Jo. Don’t want ya gettin’ dirty."
She smiled at his kindness and thoughtfulness as he lifted her off the porch and onto his horse. Then he led the horse across the muddy yard and into the barn. He helped her down and led her into the back room.
Jo could not believe her eyes. There was a glowing fire in the fireplace and candles lit the rest of the room. A table was set with wine, tortillas, fajitas, beans, and rice.
He pulled a chair out for her. "Sientese, senora. Your seat" He pushed the chair in and moved around the table. Jo was glowing with the surprise and excitement of it all.
"Sangria?" Nick offered. Jo looked at it strangely. "It’s just red wine, Jo, with fruit in it. That’s how they like it in Spain, Portugal, Mexico. Try it." He poured her a glass and she took a sip.
"Ummm. It is delightful."
"¿Te gustaria arroz y frijoles?" She looked at him, not understanding. He grinned. "Ya want some food?"
They sat next to each other in front of the fire while they nibbled on the goodies Nick had prepared. "So, this is what you had to get from the wagon this afternoon?" Jo said.
"Yup. Didn’t want anythin’ ta git spoiled."
"It is wonderful, Nick. Thank you.’
"It’s missin’ somethin’ though." She looked at him questioningly. "¡Musica!"
He pulled a harmonica out of his pocket and began to play. He was awful and could not stop laughing at himself long enough to improve it.
"I didn’t know that you played the harmonica," Jo said, amused.
"Can’t really call it playin’," Nick laughed. "Ya heard what it sounded like."
"True." Jo laughed, too. "And I never knew you spoke Spanish."
"Just a little. Eight months in Mexico," he replied simply.
"There’s so much about you that I don’t know."
"What d’ya wanna know? Ya ask and I’ll answer. No secrets," he said. Jo smiled. "But ya have ta answer, too," he warned with a chuckle.
"Of course," Jo said. She bit her lip, thinking hard. She wanted to ask about Theresa, but she could not bring herself to do that. "All right. What’s your favorite color?"
Nick laughed. "That’s what ya wanna know? Yer first question? That’s easy." He looked at her and smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Blue, like that dress yer wearin’. And brown like yer eyes and yer hair." He ran his finger across her lips. "And red, like yer lips - and yer cheeks," he added as she blushed. "Now it’s yer turn."
Jo was flustered. She did not know what to say.
"Come on, Jo. That should be an easy one. What’s yer favorite color?"
"Blue?" Jo said, almost asking. "Like your eyes."
"Stealin’ my answers?" Nick joked. "Now it’s my turn. If you could travel anywhere, where would ya wanna go?"
"Hmmm," Jo said. "I haven’t been anywhere. There are so many places I would love to see. I guess I would have to say Germany first, though. Fritz was from Germany and…" She stopped herself and looked at him. "I’m sorry."
"Don’t be. No secrets. Remember? Germany it is then. As fer me, I got the opposite problem. I’ve been almost everywhere already. Never been to the North Pole, though," he laughed. "Guess I’d like ta go see Santa." He leaned closer to her and whispered as if he was telling her a secret. "Have a li’l talk with him ‘bout all that coal he’s been givin’ me." They both laughed.
And so the game continued with more questions and answers.
Then Nick remembered something. "B’fore I forget, Jo. I got somethin’ else for ya." He smiled as he got up and opened a cabinet, pulling out a box. Jo was almost giddy with anticipation. He handed it to her.
"Chocolates! Oh, Nick I love chocolate."
"I know. These ain’t as good as what ya get in Switzerland, but it was the best I could do." He watched her surveying the choices. "Ya can tell what’s inside by the top. It’s kinda like readin’." He chuckled. "What kind d’ya want?"
"Caramel!"
"Really? Ya like those the best? Well, alright, they got smooth tops, like this one here," he said as he picked one up. "Try it." He held it out in front of her.
Jo hesitated for a second before moving forward and taking a bite from the chocolate in his hand. "Oh, this is so good!" she exclaimed. He held the rest of it and she let him feed it to her. She was surprised when he gently wiped the trace of chocolate from her lips.
"Now I’m gonna look for one with coconut," Nick said. He ate it in one bite. "Delicious."
As they enjoyed more of the chocolates, they went on with the game. It was Jo’s turn again. "Here’s a good one," Jo said, trying to make this sound as innocent as possible. "When you close your eyes at night, who do you see?" She wondered if it would be Theresa or her.
Nick looked at her and furrowed his brow. "I’ll answer that if ya want me ta, but tell me this first. Do ya want me askin’ you that question?"
Jo looked away and shook her head, no.
They were both silent for a moment. She tried to come up with a lighter question. "All right. First broken bone," she laughed. "I bet you were jumping off roofs and out of trees since you were little."
Nick looked away, his eyes clouded.
"Let me tell mine first," Jo went on, unsure of what else to say. "Well, I did not actually break it, but when I was 18 I thought I had broken my little finger when I slipped stepping out of the bath tub. It hurt so much I thought it had to be broken." She looked at Nick.
"I was 12," he said, still not looking at her. Hearing the age and seeing his expression, Jo dreaded to hear what he was about to say.
"You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, Nick."
"No secrets, remember?" he said quietly, looking at her. "I really did break my finger, two of ‘em, actually. And it does hurt bad." Jo breathed a little sigh of relief at his simple answer, but then he went on.
"Broke my arm, too. And my ribs - four of ‘em." He paused for a moment and Jo prayed that he would stop. She could hear the pain, frustration, and anger in his voice. "Ben had got himself a slingshot, ya see. I tol’ ‘im ta get rid of it, but, he didn’t." Jo cringed. "He ended up puttin’ a rock through our uncle’s winda."
"Then why did…," Jo stopped, realizing something. "You told your uncle that you did it?"
Nick nodded his head, swallowing hard. "Couldn’t let ‘im hurt Ben."
"Oh Nick," she said without judgment. She took his hands in hers, imagining the courage and love it took to do that.
He lifted her hands and kissed them both gently. Then he shook the memory out of his head. "My turn. First kiss." He grinned at her.
Jo was taken by surprise. She looked at him grinning and grinned, too. "It was with Fritz. I was 26."
"I was a little younger than that," Nick said, laughing. "Twelve, actually."
"Twelve?" Jo laughed. "Let me guess. Becky Cooper?"
Nick was surprised that she even remembered the name. It had only been mentioned once when Ben was there. "Yup," Nick said, smiling. "When we was leavin’ for our uncle’s. She kissed me and then she said she was gonna marry me someday, too." He laughed. "Alright. That’s a good one. First marriage proposal."
"It’s my turn to ask, Nick."
"Alright, but I’ll ask it next turn anyway," he teased. He looked at her while she tried to think of a question. "But, I don’t see what the big deal is. Just tell me how he proposed. No secrets, remember?"
Jo looked at him and looked away.
"Ya don’t have ta if ya don’t wanna, Jo."
"Well, it is a little embarrassing."
"It’s alright, Jo."
"It wasn’t Fritz," Jo said, to Nick’s surprise. "It was…," she hesitated. He looked at her questioningly, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. "It was Laurie," she blurted out.
"Laurie?" Nick confirmed. Jo nodded her head yes. "Ain’t surprisin’."
"It’s not surprising?" Jo questioned.
"Nah. You two ‘ave always been close. Figured that out a long time ago. ‘Sides, he woulda been insane if he hadn’t o’ noticed ya," he said with a wink. "S’pose ya said no, huh?"
Jo looked at him and smiled. "I had already met Fritz and I knew he was the only man I’d ever want."
Nick caught his breath, taken aback. He shifted uncomfortably.
Jo took his hand. "I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant that he, I mean I, I mean…"
"Shhhh," Nick interrupted. "It’s alright."
"So how did Becky propose?" Jo asked, changing the subject.
"Aw, that don’t count. A man has ta ask fer it ta count."
"Excuse me? Why does it have to be the man? Why can’t a woman ask?"
"Well, uh, that’s not what I meant, exactly," Nick said, trying to figure out how to get himself out of this one. "What I meant was that we was just kids. Proposin’s serious. Gotta be done just right."
"So, you can’t answer the question then," Jo said.
"Not exactly. Ain’t never done it before, but I know how ta do it right."
"Oh, you think so?" Jo teased.
"Sure I do. First, ya find the woman that makes yer heart skip a beat every time she’s near ya. The woman ya can tell anythin’ too. The woman that makes ya crazy." He spoke softly, smiling at her. She smiled back, liking the sound of this. She leaned closer.
"Then ya make sure ya got some privacy, some nice food, a bottle o’ wine, just candles lightin’ the room, unless it’s cold, then ya make sure ya got a nice fire ta set by."
Jo looked around the room, seeing all the enchanting pieces as he spoke.
"Ya should have some nice music, too, if ya can."
"Like a harmonica?" Jo asked, smiling.
"That could be alright," he replied with a chuckle.
"Then I would take her hands in mine." He moved in front of her and took her hands in his. "Then I would get down on one knee and look right at her." He knelt in front of her and gazed into her eyes. She caught her breath.
"Then I’d say her name, like this. Jo, you are the most incredible woman I have ever known. You make me feel like no other woman has ever made me feel. I would be forever in your debt, if you would do me the honor of sayin’ that you would be my wife." He paused for a moment. Their hearts each skipped a beat as they looked at each other. "I love you, Jo. Would you marry me?" Their eyes were locked. Jo stared at him, speechless.
Nick gasped and stood up quickly. "Fire’s gettin’ low," he said abruptly. He moved to the fireplace and put on another log, leaving Jo watching him from behind.
The next night, Nick was tossing and turning in his sleep again. The same nightmare as usual was haunting him. "Mama, please don’t go. Papa, please don’t leave me," he said in his sleep. But the nightmare continued.
Jo was in the barn checking on Penny before bed. "Good night sweet thing," she said to the horse. "Pleasant dreams." She walked out of the barn and passed Nick’s room as she went back to the house.
"No! Not again. Not her too," Nick called out in his sleep. "Jo! Jo!!!" he screamed as he awakened and sat bolt upright.
Jo heard him call her name in a voice filled with sheer terror. A chill ran up her spine as she ran to his room and threw open the door. She found him sitting on his bunk, sweating and shaking.
He looked up at her, frantic. "You’re back. You came back. No one has ever come back."
"What do you mean Nick? What’s wrong? What happened?" She went to him and sat down next to him, unsure of what had happened and unsure of what to do.
As he began to calm himself, Jo realized that it had been a nightmare; that nothing else had happened.
"It was just a nightmare, Nick. You are all right," she assured him, touching him gently on his trembling shoulder.
He held his head in his hands as he caught his breath. "Will it ever stop?" he asked.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Jo asked, worried.
"No. I wanna forget it."
"Tell me about it Nick. It will help. No secrets, remember?" Gently, she brushed the hair back from his face.
He managed a touch of a smile at her tenderness. "Been havin the same dream since I was a kid, since my folks died. But it just keeps gettin’ worse."
"Tell me about it."
He looked at her. He was still sweating. She waited for him to speak. Just when she thought he would not, he began to tell her the nightmare, staring vacantly into space as he spoke.
"There’s this judge. And he’s standin’ in front of this…". He struggled for the word. "… mist or fog or somethin’. My Ma’s standin’ in front o’ him. He tells her that I ain’t deservin’ of her and he tells her ta go into the mist."
Jo could not believe what she was hearing. What a horrible feeling for a son to have. She took his hand and held it.
At her touch, he paused for a second, then continued. "And she does just as he says. I call ta her ta come back. I beg her not ta go. I promise her I’ll try harder, but…". He stopped and shifted uncomfortably. "…She walks right inta the mist without even lookin’ at me."
Jo spotted a pitcher of water on the table and poured him a cup. He nodded and took it.
Nick went on, speaking quietly, timidly. "Then the judge tells Susanna and my Pa that I don’t deserve them neither. And they walk away, too. Just like Ma did. I call them, but they don’t even look back at me." He sipped the water, slowly. "They just walk right inta that mist and disappear forever."
He stood up and moved across the room. He put the glass down and ran his fingers along the edge of the table. "Then there was Becky, and my aunt, and There---" he stopped himself, not looking at her. But, she knew he meant Theresa. "Lots of friends. Marcus, too."
Tears came to Jo’s eyes as she thought of her student Marcus Carter who had died in the measles epidemic the year before. She remembered how close he and Nick had become in the short time they knew each other, sharing much more than their craftsman’s skills with each other. She had never realized how deeply Nick felt the loss.
Jo went to him and touched his arm. "It’s not your fault."
He turned to look at her, his eyes moist, but did not respond. "Then Ben comes," Nick continued. "The judge sends him inta the mist, too. But he don’t go in." A slight laugh stifled the tears. "Ben never did listen good. He’s just standin’ right at the edge of the mist with his back ta me. I keep callin him, but he won’t even turn around. And then…". He stopped and turned away not knowing where to look. Jo took his hand.
"And then?" she encouraged him, knowing it was her name that he called when he awoke.
"And then, and then I wake up," he said, pulling his hand away, crossing his arms, and looking over her shoulder across the room.
"That’s the end? The whole thing?" she asked, not wanting to press him too hard.
"Yeah, the whole thing."
"Do you have this dream often?"
"All the time. Ben learned ta sleep right through it," he said. "I don’t sleep much after I have it, though."
"It sounds awful."
"I just want it ta stop, Jo. I don’t want…". He stopped himself, looking at her. He could not tell her how afraid he was of losing her too. He moved across the room and stared into the fireplace. The room was silent except for the crackling of the fire.
Jo watched him. She desperately wanted him to tell her the rest of the dream. She wondered if he saw her walk away, too. She wanted to assure him that she was not going anywhere.
Nick stood, staring into the fire. The frantic flames seemed to be calling him, accusing him. He desperately wanted Jo to assure him that she was not going anywhere; that she would not leave him, too.
But, she did not say it. She did not say anything. She wanted him to tell her that he did not want to lose her. But, he did not say it. And then the moment passed.
He turned to her. "Ya must be tired. Ya best be gettin’ ta bed," he said quietly, his face still marked with sadness and fear.
"Yes. I suppose I should," Jo replied.
Their eyes met. Their hearts each skipped a beat. He looked down at the floor as she walked out the door.
"I just do not understand him, Meg." Jo told her sister when she arrived early the next morning. "Just when I feel that we are getting really close, he says something or does something to keep us apart. Like after he had that nightmare. He was telling me all about it and then he just stopped. I’m sure he called my name when he awoke. I’m sure he saw me in that dream, but he would not tell me. All he said was ‘You better get to bed.’"
"It was a terrible dream, Jo. It must be difficult for him to talk about it."
"But, if he cannot talk about it with me, then what do we really have together?"
"He just had a hard time talking about it, Jo. I am sure that it does not mean anything more than that."
"But he always does it, Meg. In the kitchen when he came back with Rob he did it, too. He just walked out, in the cold rain with no coat!" She paused and chewed on her lip a bit. "I just do not know what to think."
Before Meg could respond they heard him calling. "Hey, Jo. G’mornin’ Meg." He came over to where they were standing. He looked tired, but sounded cheerful as usual.
"Good morning, Nick," Meg replied.
"Beautiful day, ain’t it?" he said, tilting his face to the sun and basking in it’s warmth. He stretched his back, yawning.
"Nick," Jo said happily. "Meg said that Amy has rescheduled her party for tonight. We didn’t miss anything after all."
"Sounds great. 8 o’clock, right?"
"Yes," Meg confirmed.
Nick turned to Jo. "I’m goin’ out ta bring the wagon back, now that the roads are dried out. Don’t know how long it’ll take."
"Nick," Meg said. "I was at Gerson’s Store yesterday and he said there was a telegram for you."
"Oh, thank ya, Meg. I’ll pick it up when I’m in town."
"Well, I saved you the trouble. Mr. Gerson said it has been there a couple of days. Since I was coming anyway, I thought I would bring it to you." She took it out of her bag and handed it to him.
He took it, nodding his thanks, and read it carefully. His brow was furrowed as he worked at reading it. Jo and Meg smiled at each other. Nick glanced up and saw them. "What?".
"Nothing," Jo answered, still smiling.
"Why ya smilin’ then?"
"Is there a law against smiling, now?" she teased.
"Alright forget it. Can ya help me with this? Can’t figure this here word out." He pointed.
"Survivors," Jo answered. It says, "Papa’s survivors are coming to visit. Arriving in Bedford… Christopher Columbus! They’re coming today!"
"Who is?" Meg asked.
"Ol’ sea buddies o’ mine," Nick answered, excitedly. "We was stranded on an island together for a couple o’ months. Ain’t been all together fer years."
"Who’s Papa?" Jo asked, curious.
"Ah, he was the only one with any experience livin’ off the land like that," Nick shrugged. "Kinda helped everyone out."
"You were lucky to have him around then," Jo said.
"Yeah. Well, if that train’s arrivin’ this mornin’ I better get movin’." He started to walk away, stopped and turned. "Is it alright if I go, Jo?"
"Of course, Nick. You don’t have to ask."
"I still do work fer ya, don’t I? So’s I gotta ask. It’s only right." He had another realization. "I told ya I’d watch Rob today. Can I take ‘im with me?"
Jo remembered how Nick had corrected Rob a few days earlier for saying ‘Can I,’ incorrectly. She stifled a laugh. "Are you sure you want to? I could have him sit in the classroom with us."
"Why bore the poor fella…". Nick stopped himself, but it was too late.
"Bore him? Excuse me, but are you implying that my classroom is boring?" Jo asked, watching with glee as he squirmed. Meg smiled at their playfulness.
"No, of course not, Jo. Not for yer students," Nick answered, intent on not letting her win this round. "But Rob’s too young fer all that. Besides, ya can get an education in all sorts o’ places. He may learn somethin’ while we’re out on the road."
"All right," Jo said laughing. "You can be his teacher today."
Nick gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and winked at her. "I’ll take good care o’ him." Then he turned. "See y’all later!" Nick called as he left to find Rob.
"He looks all right to me, Jo. He obviously has feelings for you."
"But why does he keep pulling away?" Jo asked.
"I wouldn’t call that kiss pulling away, Jo."
"Hey Jo!" Nick called out as he pulled the wagon to a stop in front of the house and jumped out. "Ya been standin’ right there waitin’ for us all day?" he laughed. She smiled at him and he winked at her.
"Hey Mother. That was so much fun," Rob said. Nick caught him as he jumped out of the wagon, startling Jo.
"Did you know that Nick can drink six beers and still climb the mast on a rolling ship?"
"No. I didn’t Rob," Jo answered, glaring at an embarrassed Nick as his friends laughed. She turned to Nick. "Is that the kind of thing you meant they can learn outside the classroom?"
Nick looked at her a second and started to speak when Rob chimed in. "And did you know that moss only grows on the north side of a tree? You can always know which direction you are going in by the moss. The sun and stars can help you, too. Nick can never get lost with all that help."
Rob was so excited that he kept right on talking. "And Nick showed me what kinds of berries we can eat and which ones we can’t. But, he said I should not eat any without checking with him first anyway." He stopped for a second, a huge smile on his face. "Nick knows everything."
Jo relaxed at this further education Nick had given her son.
"I just have one question, Nick," Rob said, looking up at his teacher for the day. "What’s a beer?"
"We’ll talk about it later, Rob. Jo, I’d like ya ta meet the fellas here," Nick said, taking her hand and trying to change the subject quickly. The other children arrived shouting greetings to Nick. "Hey kids." He turned to his friends that had just hopped out of the wagon, pointing to them one by one as he said their names. "Taylor, Caleb, Zach and Oliver."
The sea buddies and the Plumfield gang exchanged greetings.
"How long will you be able to stay?" Jo asked.
"Unfortunately, we have to go back tomorrow evening. Ship’s leaving the next day." Taylor answered.
"But we got tonight, right Nick?" Caleb asked.
"Sure do."
"Well, I don’t have enough room in the house for all of you, but you are more than welcome to stay in the barn. Ben was comfortable there," Jo said.
"If it’s good enough for Ben then it’s good enough for us. But we don’t intend on needin’ a place ta sleep anyway, do we Nick?" Oliver said with a wink.
Nick was speechless as Jo gave him that look.
Zach looked around. "Hey Papa, this is a great place. I wouldn’t mind livin’ here."
Nick looked annoyed.
"Ya know that Nick don’t like us callin’ him that," Caleb reminded Zach.
"You’re Papa? The one who took care of everybody?" Jo asked Nick, flabbergasted. "But they’re all…". She stopped, not wanting to mention that they were all obviously older than Nick.
"…older than him?" Oliver, the oldest of the crew, finished for her, laughing. "That never stopped Nicky from taking care of anybody. We’ve been calling Nick Papa since he started sailin’. He was just a kid. What were ya, seventeen?"
"He was fifteen," Taylor corrected him. "A very old fifteen. Looked out for everybody even then. That’s why the fellas started calling him Papa."
"Always hated that," Nick told Jo simply, tilting his head to her as he spoke.
"We wouldn’t have made it off that island if it weren’t for Nick, here. Did he ever tell ya about that?" Zach asked the kids.
"He told us you were there for a couple months, but that’s about it," Nat answered.
"That’s all ya told ‘em, Nicky?" Zach asked surprised. Nick shrugged.
"But you said there were nine of you," Jo said to Nick.
Nick was surprised that she remembered that detail. "Yeah, there was. But, Drew died of pneumonia last year and Adam died the year before in a hurricane off the coast of New Guinea," Nick answered. A wave of sadness washed over him. "Evers and Chance never made it off the island."
"We’ve told you before, Nick. It wasn’t your fault," Taylor said to him immediately, recognizing Nick’s pained expression. "Evers was almost dead when ya pulled him out of the sea and Chance saw how sick ya got when ya tried just a couple of those berries. Ya told him not ta eat ‘em."
"He was starvin’, Taylor," Nick shouted angrily. "I should’ve found ‘im somethin’ ta eat in time. Now his kids ain’t got no Pa!"
"It wasn’t your fault, Nicky," Caleb said, firmly, calming him. The others voiced their agreement. Nick let out a deep breath and nodded his head.
"Would you tell us more about the island?" Dan asked.
"And tell us more about Nick, too," Nan added.
Nick laughed as the kids begged his buddies to tell them all about him.
"Why don’t we go inside and talk," Jo suggested.
Nick pulled Jo aside as the others went in. "Thanks Jo, but don’t the kids need ta be gettin’ back ta school?"
"It’s my pleasure, Nick. And you told me yourself that you can get an education in all sorts of places. I’ll just quiz them on all of your adventures tomorrow." She giggled as she began to walk away.
Nick stepped in front of her. "I know we was plannin’ ta go ta Amy’s party tonight, but they will only be here one night and…". Nick looked at Jo’s disappointed expression. He shook his head. "And I’ll tell them I’ll meet up with ‘em after that, alright?"
Jo smiled. "You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, Nick."
"I want to Jo. Don’t want nothin’ more. They can wait a bit fer me. We’ll have the rest o’ the night, anyway."
All night, she thought, a look of disapproval crossing her face.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," Jo said, realizing that she was not going to change him. "Let’s get inside with the others."
"Good idea. Don’t know what they’ll tell those kids about me."
Jo was intrigued.
"Making things up, of course. Nothin’ interestin’ otherwise."
"All right, Nicky," she teased, "let’s go in."
They laughed and went inside arm in arm.
The next day, Jo was preparing to cut up some onions for Asia to use for the big lunch with Nick’s sea buddies when Nick entered the kitchen. "Hey, Jo."
"Good morning Nick. Did you have a good time last night?" she asked, before looking with dread upon the onions.
"Sure did. Ain’t seen all those fellas for years."
"I meant at Amy’s party, but I suppose it must have been exciting for you to see all of them again." She started to peel the first onion.
"Spent two long months fightin’ for our lives together, Jo. Ain’t nothin’ like it. Ya get ta be sorta… ." he stopped himself cold, moving over to the counter. He picked up the knife and cut a small slice of bread.
"You get to be what, Nick?" Jo asked, wondering why he stopped so abruptly.
"Nothin’. Here, keep this piece o’ bread in yer mouth while ya cut them onions. Won’t hurt yer eyes so bad."
Jo laughed at him. "How is eating a piece of bread going to help?"
"Ya don’t eat the bread. Ya just sorta keep it in yer mouth." She looked at him incredulously. "Ya don’t think I know what I’m talkin’ about. Do ya? When ya gonna start believin’ me, Jo?" He laughed at her. "B’sides, What’s it hurt ta try?"
"All right, all right," she laughed. He handed her the piece of bread.
"Now don’t chew it," he said. "And don’t cut the ends off the onion. Work your way around it."
"But I can’t talk like this," Jo mumbled. "Is this another one of your jokes?" she asked as she swallowed the bread.
"Ain’t no joke, Jo, but ya gotta keep it in yer mouth. Like this," he said, tossing a piece of bread in his mouth. He gently moved Jo aside, picked up the knife and began to chop the onion with consummate skill. Jo was crying, but Nick showed no signs of watery eyes.
"Like that," he mumbled, putting the knife down on the counter.
"I didn’t quite see how you did that, Nick. Would you show me again?" Jo pleaded.
"Got my own work ta do today, Jo. Can’t be doin’ yours, too. But, nice try," he laughed. He cut another piece of bread and, moving close to her, he put it in her mouth.
He watched her work for a moment and then he turned around and headed for the door. Remembering something, he went back.
He put his arms around her waist from behind and whispered into her ear. "I had a better time at Amy’s than at the tavern. The company was a whole lot prettier."
Jo smiled.
He wiped his watery eyes as he walked out. "Good luck with them onions."
That afternoon, Nick’s buddies, having accepted Jo’s invitation to join them all for lunch before Nick brought them back to the train, were enjoying the feast immensely. Everyone was there, even Meg, Amy and Laurie.
"Did you make this Nick? It’s delicious," said Zach.
"Nah, Asia made it. Her cookin’s much better ‘an mine."
"Nick cooks?" Dan asked, surprised. "Can you believe that Mrs. Jo?"
"Nothing about Nick surprises me anymore Dan," Jo replied, laughing. Everyone else laughed, too, including Nick.
"Nick’s an excellent cook. Ya mean he never made nothin’ for ya?" Oliver added.
"No. He hasn’t," Nan answered, disappointed
"The women cook around here," Bess added.
"Nothin’ wrong with a man cookin’ Bess," Nick said defensively.
"That is true," Laurie said, coming to Nick’s defense. "Most of the chefs in the finest restaurants are men."
"Where’d you learn to cook, Nick?" Nat asked, full of curiosity.
Nick felt slightly uncomfortable. There were certain things he just did not like to talk about. He looked up at everyone waiting for his story. He looked away and then back again and decided to answer.
"When I was a kid," he stopped and looked around. He shifted in his chair. "My Pa an’ me’d go out lookin’ fer work in the winter when there weren’t no farmin’ ta do. Didn’t like leavin’ Ma alone with the li’l uns, but there weren’t much choice. Well, Pa was…". He stopped as memories of those hard but happy times came rushing back.
He smiled. "I hate ta say it, but Papa was a lousy cook. Bad enough we had ta eat what we could find but he could ruin the best o’ it."
"Sounds familiar," Jo laughed.
Nick laughed with the rest of them.
"Well, I got tired o’ eatin like that so I started watchin’ my Ma when I could. Mama was a great cook. She could make soup outta nothin’. And usually had to. But, she’d be trippin’ over me while I’s tryin’ ta see what she was doin’. Finally, she asked me if I wanted her ta teach me. I hesitated ‘cause I didn’t want my Pa ta feel hurt or nothin’." Nick smiled, now rather enjoying not only the very clear memory, but the sharing of it as well.
"So, I was standin’ there, not knowin’ what ta say. I could feel Papa’s eyes on my back. I shook my head no and turned away, when I heard my Pa nearly shoutin’, ‘What? Ya ain’t gonna let her teach ya? What’s wrong with ya L’il Man? Ya wanna eat my lousy cookin’ the rest o’ yer life? I sure don’t.’ Then he smiled and ruffled my hair." Nick laughed, a mix of happy and sad tears brimming in his eyes. The others laughed with him.
"Never known a better man. After they…," he stopped again, not able to say it. So he didn’t. "Ben an’ me didn’t have nobody ta cook for us, so it came in handy."
"Guess he had to cook good. Tryin’ to feed a picky eater like Ben all those years," Taylor added. Nick laughed in agreement.
"Would have starved without him on that island, too. Remember that sea turtle?" Zach asked.
"What sea turtle?" Nat wondered aloud.
"Nicky here nearly got himself killed going into the sea to catch this sea turtle we seen swimming around," Caleb answered. "But when he cooked that thing up, um, um we ate like kings for days."
"You ate a sea turtle?" Amy asked Nick, disgusted.
"When you’re hungry enough you’ll eat anythin’, Amy," Nick explained quietly. "I’ve ate worse things ‘an that."
"Speakin of food, what was that food ya made in Egypt that we all liked so much?" Caleb asked. "The one Theresa taught you."
Jo’s ears perked up at the sound of Theresa’s name as Nick glanced at her self-consciously. "Molakiah," he replied simply.
"What’s that?" Bess asked, her nose turned up at the mention of an unfamiliar food.
"It’s a leafy green vegetable that grows in Egypt. Ya chop it up and make it inta a sort o’ soup, with onions, garlic, coriander, lots o’ stuff," Nick answered.
"Onions," Jo chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with Nick.
Asia was impressed. "Sounds delicious. How do you serve it?"
"Ya eat it over rice. Rich folk would have chicken or rabbit with it, too," Nick finished.
"You did that?" Nan questioned. Nick nodded his head and shrugged.
"Yup. He did. And we loved it," Taylor offered. "We loved all the Egyptian foods Theresa taught him."
"Kebayba, Scwarma and Wara-ein-ib," Oliver said.
"And Kofta, Falafel and Shish ta wouk," Zach added smiling.
Nick smiled broadly at the compliments.
"Enough about the food. Tell us about Theresa," Amy pleaded.
"Amy!" Jo scolded as she watched a wave of mixed emotions cross Nick’s face.
"Was she Egyptian?" Bess asked.
"Yup. A Coptic. But her Egyptian name was really… ." Caleb turned to Nick for help. "What was it?"
"Thurayya," Nick smiled.
"Yeah, that’s it. She used Theresa to make it easier on the foreigners she taught."
"Taught?" Nat asked.
"Yeah. She taught folks to speak Egyptain. Not many wanted to learn, ‘cept Nicky here," Zach added, teasing.
"You can speak Egyptian?" Meg asked Nick in amazement.
"Yup." Nick shrugged. "It was easy. Like learnin’ ta read. I had a good teacher." He grinned at Jo.
"Glad ya had her around, ain’t ya Nick?" Caleb teased.
"Hey, remember the dance?" Zach offered. "You two looked great spinning around that dance floor." The others uttered their agreement.
"A dance!" Bess said, delighted by the idea.
"Nick took Theresa?" Dan asked.
"Yeah, the perfect little couple," Caleb laughed. "Don’t think he left her side all night."
Jo noticed Nick smiling wistfully as his old friends spoke of the woman that had piqued her interest for so long. But, she wondered why Taylor was silently and intently watching Nick as the others spoke.
"What did she look like?" Nan asked.
"She was real pretty," Zach answered.
"Beautiful," Oliver concurred.
"Like an angel," Caleb suggested.
"Yup. She was," Nick concluded with a smile on his face and a far off look in his eyes. Jo looked away.
Lunch was finished, the children had left, and the adults and Rob had moved to the parlor for coffee and tea, when Caleb mentioned Theresa again. "So, what ever happened to Theresa anyway? You were buying a ring when we left, weren’t ya Nick?"
Zach disagreed. "No. We heard she was marrying some other fella, didn’t we, Oliver?"
"That’s what I heard, yeah," Oliver confirmed.
"So, did ya marry her or not?" Caleb pressed.
"No," was Nick’s simple reply, looking at Jo uncomfortably.
"Did ya ever even have the guts ta ask her?" Caleb asked.
"Forget it Caleb," Nick said, while Jo watched intently.
"Then it was true?" Caleb laughed. "She married someone else?"
"Drop it Caleb," Taylor said, finally speaking as he looked at Nick.
"Come on. What happened, Nicky? Did she dump the great Nick Riley? Thought you two were… ."
"Stop Caleb," Taylor insisted.
"…perfect together. You must have been hoppin’ mad."
"Caleb!" Taylor said, as Nick glared.
"I would have killed her!" Caleb finished.
"Shut up Caleb!" Nick shouted angrily, grabbing Caleb by the collar and slamming him against the wall. Realizing what he was doing, he let go quickly and backed off.
Taylor was there leading Nick away almost as soon as it happened. Then Zach and Oliver moved between them as well.
"What’d I say?" Caleb asked, clueless.
Everyone was shocked. Rob looked up from where he sat on the floor playing with Max. Jo, Meg, Amy, Laurie and Asia looked at each other in wide-eyed disbelief as Nick dropped into a chair and stared at the floor. Taylor bent down on one knee in front of him, put his hand on Nick’s shoulder and looked him right in the eye.
The room was filled with tension and silence so everyone heard what was said, though they spoke quietly.
"You alright?" Taylor asked.
Nick let out a deep breath. "Yeah." He squeezed his eyes shut, seeing only Theresa – her long brown hair; her captivating brown eyes; the way her whole body shook when she laughed at him; the way she would look right at him, holding his hand, listening intently, when he spoke from the heart; the way she spoke about his family as if she had known them all her life; the way she accepted him without judgment...
Taylor’s words broke the spell. "What do you want me to do?" Nick looked at him and then looked around the room at all the curious, concerned faces. "Do you want me to tell them?" Taylor asked.
Nick clenched his jaw, swallowed hard and then, glancing at Jo, nodded his head yes.
Now the bond forged among friends who have survived together, endured together and relied on each other through tough times is strong. Callous words, spoken in haste, are readily forgiven.
And so the tension eased quickly as Taylor began the story. "When we got off the ship after being on that island for two months Nick got the idea that we should find work on the Suez Canal. He said we’d be making history."
The mood beginning to lighten, the friends chuckled and then so did the others.
"But part of Nick’s inspiration was that he’d already met Theresa," Oliver added smiling.
"Nick and Theresa spent a lot of time together," Taylor went on. "When he wasn’t working or cooking for us he was usually with her."
"All the fellas liked her, but she only had eyes for Nick. After about a year Caleb and the others had had enough of the desert and signed on to a ship. Nick said that he was staying, that he had bought a ring and was going to ask Theresa to marry him. I decided to stay, too, for a while anyway. Couldn’t miss Nicky’s wedding," Taylor said smiling.
Nick sat still in the chair. His elbows were on his knees and he was still staring at the floor.
"Before we left, though, we started hearing talk that Theresa was gonna marry someone else," Zach interjected.
"I didn’t hear that until after they left. I spoke with Nick and he was sure it was a mistake. He was on his way to see her anyway. He had the ring in his pocket."
As Taylor told the story, the memory was as vivid and clear in Nick’s mind as if it had happened yesterday.
The door to the kitchen was open and Nick entered with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. He glowed when he saw Theresa. She was reaching for a sack of flour high on a shelf. They spoke in Egyptian.
"Hello Theresa." He came up behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, and kissed her neck. She stopped reaching and began to lean back against him. Then she straightened. Or was it just his imagination, Nick wondered.
"I was just trying to get the flour," she explained.
"Here, let me help you," he offered, looking up. Just then the sack shifted, dumping flour all over both of them. They were surprised for a second and then they laughed at the sight of each other. They dusted each other off.
"So what are we making today?" Nick asked, ready for his next cooking lesson with his favorite teacher.
"It does not matter now, with all the flour gone," she laughed. Nick looked at her covered in flour and smiling happily nonetheless. His heart skipped a beat.
"Close your eyes," he said, still speaking Egyptian.
"What? Why?" she asked laughing.
"Just be patient and you’ll find out. Close your eyes."
She closed them, still laughing. He took her hand and placed it over his heart. "Do you feel that?" he asked her. "That’s you. That’s your life beating inside me. When I got off that island, well… . You are the only good thing that has ever happened to me."
He touched her face gently with his hand. She opened her eyes and he gazed into them. "You make me so happy Theresa. You make me feel alive."
He leaned over to kiss her. Their lips met. She pulled back and turned away.
"Theresa?" he said, suddenly dreading that what Taylor heard was true.
She did not answer or even turn around. "Speak to me Theresa," he pleaded. "What is going on?"
They stayed in silence for a moment, but it seemed like an eternity to Nick.
"Is it true?" he asked, not really wanting to know. She kept her back to him. Overwhelmed, he began to speak in English.
"It’s true, ain’t it?" He waited. "Ain’t it?"
Still not turning, she finally spoke. "It is an arranged marriage, Nick. My father…"
"Oh please, tell me it ain’t true!" he pleaded. "It can’t be true."
"My father arranged it. Achmad is a good man, very well educated, very well respected, very wealthy," she said without emotion.
"When were ya gonna tell me Theresa?"
She finally turned to look at him. "I did not want to hurt you."
He gasped, nearly shouting, "So you let me find out like this?"
"I am sorry."
"Then it’s all been a lie. Every minute, every second I’ve spent with ya has been a lie. I thought it meant everythin’ and it meant nothin’."
"That is not true, Nick."
"Then what is the truth? How do I know what the truth is? How will I ever know?"
"Nick."
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "It’s happenin’ again. I can’t believe it’s happenin’ again." He paused and looked at her, his whole world falling apart once more. "So, that’s it?"
"Yes. It is all arranged. It is final."
"Do you love him Theresa?"
She looked at him but did not answer.
"Do – you – love – him?!?"
"You have no right to ask me that," she said.
Nick was stunned. He tried to catch his breath, not knowing where to look. He shoved his hand in his pocket and felt the ring he had bought for her. His heart was breaking.
"No. I s’pose I don’t," Nick said finally, his voice quivering. Devastated, he turned to go.
Then he stopped and turned to look at her again. "I wish ya all the happiness Theresa." His voice cracked. "I really do."
Then he turned and began to walk out the door, crushed and defeated.
"Nick!" she called desperately, grabbing his hand. His heart raced as he waited for her to speak.
She said nothing and then let his hand go.
"Good bye Theresa."
He’s had too many good byes, Jo thought to herself.
"Nick didn’t want to stay there any longer so we signed onto a ship that was leaving later that week. Docked back in Egypt a few months later. We were there a couple days when we saw her again, with a cut lip and a black eye."
Jo gasped as Nick stared into the fire, his face full of rage. Suddenly, they all understood even more the contempt he had always held for Thomas Ryan.
Nick looked at Theresa and could not believe his eyes. He approached her, noticing the wedding ring on her bruised hand. He knew immediately what had happened to her, having seen it too many times before. He clenched his jaw and his fists. She saw him and began to turn away.
"It’s all right Theresa. No need to be embarrassed," he said in Egyptian. She still looked beautiful to him.
Nick touched her bruised cheek tenderly, turning her face back to him. "He did this to you, didn’t he?"
She did not answer.
"Theresa?"
She nodded her head yes. Nick shuddered.
"Theresa, I understand. It is not your fault. I’ll get you out of there."
Finally she spoke, with tears in her deep brown eyes. "No. I cannot leave him. He is my husband."
Nick struggled to control his anger, not wanting Theresa to feel that it was her fault. "He will just do it again, Theresa. I know. I’ve seen it. I’ve felt it. You have to get away from him."
"He is my husband."
"Well, he does not deserve you. He has no right to do this to you," Nick said gently. He was filled with understanding, empathy, and compassion. He knew exactly how she felt. "Look Theresa. I know you are scared. I was, too."
He stopped for a moment, wanting to kiss her, wanting to protect her, wanting to take her pain away. His love for her was as strong as the day she broke his heart.
"I will get you away from him," Nick said, still speaking in Egyptian. "He will never hurt you again. I promise."
Taylor went on with the story as Nick paced the room. "Nick sold the ring and used every penny he had to bribe her household staff, pay for her passage on a ship and to buy a gun. Nick got her away from her husband with no problem, having arranged to put her on a ship the next morning."
Jo watched Nick shifting uncomfortably as the story unfolded.
"When Nick did not come home I grew concerned and went to look for him. I found him… ." Taylor stopped as Nick dropped into a chair. He put a hand on Nick’s shoulder. Jo was sure that she did not want to hear what had happened to Nick.
"Theresa’s husband and his men had him. Nick rarely loses a fight, but it was six against one. They kept asking him where Theresa was, but Nick wouldn’t tell them anything." Jo choked back tears. "They had knives and clubs and … ."
"Taylor," Nick said, stopping him and nodding towards the women.
"All right," Taylor said. He shifted uncomfortably and then turned and looked right at Nick. "I wanted to help you, but I was too scared. I knew if they got me that I would tell. I couldn’t have gone through what you did. It was hard enough to watch."
"I’ve told ya before, it’s alright Taylor. It wasn’t your fight," Nick reassured him.
"When they decided he didn’t know where she was they dumped him in the desert, his wrists and ankles still bound, and left him there to die, " Taylor went on. "I brought him to Theresa. I am sure she was shocked and terrified, but she forced herself to stay calm. She was amazing. We thought he was dead. But then…"
Nick groaned softly. He turned his head. "Theresa? Theresa?" He could barely move, his whole body in pain "Theresa?"
"I’m here Nick."
He calmed at the sound of her voice and the feel of her tender touch on his cut and bruised face. He turned to her at his right side, looking into her eyes, trying to focus. She fought back tears.
"Hey," she said, trying to smile.
"Hey," he said, smiling back at her. He choked back the pain, swallowing hard.
"Ben?" he whispered, confused, lifting his head as if to rise and protect him.
"Shh. Ben is not here, but he is all right," Theresa assured him, stroking his face gently. "His ship is headed for Venezuela, remember?" She spoke in English to make it easier for him.
Nick continued to struggle with the pain. "It hurts, Theresa."
"I know," she said, no longer able to hold back the tears. "I’m so sorry my husband did this to you because of me," she said.
Nick could not speak anymore but she could see in his eyes that he held no anger towards her.
"I’ll go get the doctor," Taylor said
Ignoring the pain, Nick reached out and grabbed him by the arm. "No!" he rasped.
"You need a doctor Nicky."
"If ya do, they’ll find her," Nick managed to say in a whisper. He let go of Taylor and his arm dropped to the bed, the pain too much to bear.
Theresa and Taylor looked at each other and then at Nick, knowing he was right, knowing they were all in grave danger if they were found. "I will need some fresh water to wash these wounds and a bottle of whiskey to sterilize them," Theresa instructed, taking charge.
"I’ll get two. He’ll need one for the pain. From what I saw out there, he must have a bunch of broken ribs, too. Be careful," Taylor said as he left.
Taylor brought the water from the well outside.
"He’s hurt very badly, Taylor. He’s having trouble breathing. I don’t know… ." She stopped, unable to say it.
Taylor looked at Nick struggling with each painful breath. "Nick is strong Theresa. He’s been through a lot. If anyone can make it through something like this, he can. Don’t give up on him." He touched Nick carefully on the shoulder. "Hold on Nick." Then he left for town to get the whiskey.
Theresa washed the wounds on Nick’s face as he moaned in pain. She took each hand and washed the cuts that he had suffered in his desperate, yet futile, struggle to protect himself.
In tremendous pain, Nick was only vaguely aware of what was going on until Theresa began to unbutton his torn, blood soaked shirt. He looked at her and their eyes met. His heart skipped a beat. It was too much for him. He loved her too much. He looked away.
He felt her tender touch as she unfastened each button and gently pulled the shirt away from each wound. He cried out as she helped him up to remove the shirt. The crushed ribs made it nearly impossible even to breathe. Movement was excruciating.
She eased him back down again and stroked his head to soothe him as he groaned in pain. She looked at him and gasped. His whole body was covered with big, nasty bruises and his chest, stomach and arms were also criss-crossed with shallow knife wounds.
Taylor explained. "The wounds had been inflicted deliberately, not to kill him right away, but to slowly inflict enough pain to make him tell them where she was. They tortured him to try and find her."
"Oh my! You must have loved her very much to endure all that to keep her safe," Meg said, barely able to believe that such things could really happen.
Nick looked at Meg and then at Jo. He held her gaze as he responded. "Yeah, I did." Then he looked away. Jo thought that her heart would break for him.
Theresa looked at Nick’s battered body and was amazed that he had told them nothing. She could not fathom the ferocity with which they had beaten him. "You really are a survivor, aren’t you?" she said to him. "Your Pa would be so proud of his ‘Little Man’."
"Papa," Nick whispered. "Papa?"
She smiled at him with tears in her eyes. "He is not here, Nick."
Then Theresa began to carefully and gently wash each cut.
She spoke with him as she worked, trying to distract him from the pain. "Remember the picnics?"
"You’d bring all that food… ," he answered, slowly. His voice just a rasp.
"And you would eat it," she finished for him, smiling. "We rode those camels… ."
"And we’d be sore for a week… ."
"Every time," Theresa went on. "But… ."
"We’d keep on doin’ it!" Nick concluded with a weak chuckle.
"Do you know what I miss the most?" Theresa asked.
Nick looked at her, too tired to answer. She wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"I miss walking hand in hand with you along the beach at sunset every day. It was always so peaceful. Sometimes you would bring a box of chocolates. And you would always let me have the coconut ones. We would sit and eat and talk for hours. You would tell me all about your Mama and Papa, Susanna, Ben, even Becky." She smiled at him. He managed a smile back.
"I never knew anyone that I could talk with like I could talk with you. We would share our hopes and dreams… ." She stopped and they looked at each other, both with tears in their eyes, realizing that those dreams would never come true. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and went on, smiling at him. "And if we stayed real late, you would give me your jacket."
"Ya think ya would’ve learned ta bring yer own after a while," he rasped, breathing becoming increasingly difficult.
Soon Taylor returned with the whiskey. Nick gratefully took the bottle and Taylor helped him up and steadied his hand, helping him to drink. He winced as the whiskey touched his cut lips, but he drank earnestly, eager to dull the pain enveloping his body. "Easy Nick," Theresa said, as he showed no signs of stopping.
Taylor eased his head back down again and an eerie silence enveloped them as they all realized what had to come next. His hands shaking, Taylor opened the second bottle. Theresa could see the pain, fear, and fatigue clouding Nick’s eyes as he struggled to breath.
"Taylor?" Nick asked, trying to find his friend through the pain-induced haze. "Taylor?"
"I’m right here," Taylor answered, touching Nick’s arm to show him where he was.
"If I… ." Nick stopped, catching his breath. "If I don’t… ."
"Don’t talk like that Nick."
"Would ya look after Ben for me, Taylor?" Nick requested. Theresa gasped and took Nick’s right hand in hers and he closed around hers tightly.
"You’re gonna be fine, Nick," Taylor replied, unable to admit the possibility.
"Taylor!" Nick said, "I never asked nothin’ from ya but I need ya now."
Growing more upset at Taylor’s silence Nick looked at Theresa as he struggled with the intensifying pain, the shortness of breath, and the blurry vision.
She looked at him and then at Taylor. "I know this is difficult Taylor, but he needs to know that you will be there for him."
Taylor looked around uneasily and then at Nick. "I should have been there for you tonight," he said, clearing his throat.
"It’s alright Taylor. Wasn’t your fight." Nick choked back the pain again, able to speak just one word at a time. "Tell Ben I’m sorry I don’t got nothin’ ta leave ‘im."
Taylor nodded his head yes, afraid of what might happen if he tried to speak at that moment.
"And tell ‘im, tell ‘im… ." Nick choked back tears.
"He knows you love him, Nick. He knows," Theresa assured him, stroking his head.
Nick looked at her, his voice quivering. "He’ll be all alone."
"No he won’t," said Taylor, taking Nick’s left hand and holding it.
"Make sure he won’t," encouraged Theresa, still holding his right hand. She wiped a single tear from his cheek. "Hold on Nick. Keep breathing."
They stayed in silence, Nick holding on desperately to Theresa’s and Taylor’s hands as if clinging to life itself.
Theresa watched the pain, fear, and fatigue in his eyes slowly mix with a determination not to give in to them. "That’s right Nick. Keep trying."
"Let’s get started," he said finally.
"Are you sure you’re ready for this?" Taylor asked, holding Nick’s left hand tightly.
"No," Nick answered with just a touch of panic in his voice. "But let’s get going."
Dreading the additional suffering this would impose on their friend, but knowing that they had little choice if they wanted to prevent infection, Taylor held Nick down as Theresa began to sterilize the cuts.
Nick prayed that he would pass out, but he did not. He screamed and writhed in agony through the mind-numbing pain. Tears spilled down Theresa’s cheeks, mixing with the whiskey on his chest. Taylor, with tears in his own eyes, had to struggle to keep him down.
When the bottle was empty, Theresa stroked Nick’s head and spoke to him tenderly to calm him as he mumbled incoherently, his body shaking uncontrollably. "It’s all over Nick. I know it hurts, but it will ease in a little while. Just try to relax."
As he settled, Taylor let him go. He reached his trembling right hand up and wiped the tears from Theresa’s face, consoling her. She pressed her cheek into his palm. Then she took his hand and held it, gently massaging his swollen wrist as they gazed into each other’s eyes.
Next, with Taylor barely able to watch, Theresa began the difficult process of stitching up the cuts, with nothing but the whiskey to ease his suffering. She heard Nick’s silent plea to help him cope.
"Remember when I was so sick?" she asked while she worked, amazed that he was still conscious and trying again to distract him from the pain. "You stayed by my bedside until my father chased you out. And then you came back through the window." She shook her head as she smiled.
"Would he really have shot me if he found me back in there?" Nick struggled to ask, one word at a time between the stitches.
"Probably," she laughed. "But only in the leg so you wouldn’t be able to climb back up there again." She brushed his sweaty hair back from his face.
She worked tirelessly through the night, wiping tears from her eyes as Nick hovered on the brink of consciousness and Taylor fell asleep in a chair.
Noticing how tense his whole body had become, Theresa asked Nick, "Do you want me to stop for a while?" His eyes told her yes.
She put the needle down, stood up and stretched as Nick closed his eyes and tried to relax. After a short break, she rubbed his leg gently, hoping he was asleep. He opened his eyes slowly and then pressed his head back into the bed, bracing himself against the pain.
"Zatoon." Nick whispered as Theresa began to stitch again.
"The city?"
"Yeah. Remember… ." He could not say any more so Theresa reminisced for him.
"That was a marvelous trip. It was just so amazing to see the tree that gave shade to Mary and Joseph and the infant Jesus when they fled to Egypt."
"Yeah," Nick whispered, almost inaudibly.
"And to think that it grew in the desert just for them and has never died," she added, her voice cracking as she watched him suffer through the stitches.
Nick nodded his head in agreement.
"Remember how thrilling it was to dip our hands in the spring that came up in the desert just to quench their thirst?"
Nick looked at her, attempting a smile.
"I have never had another moment like that. That tree and that spring were certainly miracles," she decided as she felt Nick’s body relax suddenly.
Catching her breath she reached to find his pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when she found it, weak though it was. We could surely use a miracle now, she thought.
Nick awoke hours later to find Theresa sitting in the chair next to the bed, her head on his leg. He brushed the hair back from her face and watched her sleep. The very sight of her helped him to manage the intense and constant pain.
When she and Taylor awoke they bound Nick’s broken ribs and wrapped his sprained wrist.
"Good as new, huh?" Nick joked as they finished. They smiled, marveling at his indomitable spirit.
"That sounds like Nick," Jo interrupted, recalling how he had insisted on walking out of Dr. Pierce’s office and going home the morning after being shot.
"Taylor," Nick said. "Ya gotta do me one more favor." He spoke very slowly, working to speak and breath at the same time. His voice was just a rasp.
"Anything Nicky."
"Ya gotta go with Theresa ta the ship by yourselves. Ya should be leavin’ soon, too. I ain’t gonna make it. Leave me here."
"Nick,…" Taylor tried to speak.
Theresa shook her head no and held Nick’s hand. "I’m staying with you, Nick. I am not going to leave you like this."
Those words meant so much to Nick. He had longed to hear her say that she wanted to be with him. But now he could not let her.
"Ya gotta Theresa. I’ll be alright. Ya fixed me up real good. Now, go with Taylor." He kissed her hand gently and let it go. "The longer ya stay here the easier for them ta find ya."
"Nick!" Taylor said loudly. They both looked at him. "I didn’t tell you this last night but our ship has been delayed. It’s not leaving today. The whole port is closed for two days."
"Then you’ll take a train out. Go north to Port Said. Get a ship out from there," Nick declared, using all his strength.
"Nick," Taylor said, almost apologetically, "the trains are stopped, too."
Jo gasped.
"Had Achmad bribed them all?" Zach asked.
"That’s what the word was," Taylor replied.
"Oh my!" Amy exclaimed. "You must have been terrified."
"We were," admitted Taylor. "But Nick insisted that I go to work as usual so that no one would know that I was involved. Achmad was trying hard to find her, paying anyone for any bit of information they might have. I was afraid that if I returned to them I might be followed. So, I stayed away."
"I was scared for ya. Thought they’d gotten ya," Nick admitted. He picked up the story from there, his voice shaky. Staring into the fire, his back was to the others.
"Theresa," her name rolled off of his lips like a poem. He smiled at the sound of it. "Theresa stayed by my side for two days, tendin’ ta me, talkin’ ta me, distractin’ me, givin’ me water, tryin’ ta get me ta eat." He shook his head as he let out a sigh. "I’d have ta promise ta still be breathin’ when she woke up just ta get her ta sleep. When the day came, we left early, tried ta anyway. I wanted ta be on the ship well before sun up."
Nick had put her bags down and sat down in the chair a half hour ago, trying to conserve what little energy he had. "Come on Theresa. We gotta go!"
"I just need to finish brushing my hair," she pleaded, looking at him.
"Ya look beautiful already, Theresa, as always," he answered with a smile. "Now let’s go!" He stood slowly, holding his ribs, pain surging through his body. He picked up her bags, ignoring the pain it brought to his wrist.
She came to him. "I am so scared Nick."
"I know ya are," he said, putting her bags down and taking her hands in his. "But I’m gonna take care of ya. I promise. Won’t let him do nothin’ to ya ever again."
Her body was next to his and she was gazing into his eyes. Overcome by the moment he leaned down to kiss her. She stretched up and kissed him back, running her fingers through his hair. He had waited so long for this.
Suddenly, she pulled back. "I cannot do this Nick. Not now, not ever."
The pain inflicted on Nick by those few words was greater than any that her husband and his men had meted out days before. He stared at her, motionless, stunned, forcing himself to breathe.
"I may be leaving him, but I am still his wife," she explained.
"Alright," he mumbled, his heart as broken as his body. He picked up the bags and turned to the door. "Let’s go."
I still say I woulda killed her," Caleb laughed callously.
Taylor quickly shoved Nick back into his chair before anybody else realized what was happening. Nick looked at Jo and she gave him the strength to go on with the story.
"When we arrived at the port everything went wrong. First, the ship was not docked where Taylor had said it would be. Had to walk all over ta find it. Then when we finally found it they said there was no record o’ Theresa on the passenger list. We had ta wait for them on the dock as the sun began ta rise. We were like sittin’ ducks in the light."
"Finally the captain came out himself. I explained that I was crewin’ and that Theresa was a passenger. Told him that we were with Taylor. He spoke ta the mate and told him ta take her bags and bring her on board."
"Thank ya, sir," Nick said to the captain, as he wiped the pain-induced perspiration from his brow. Just standing was difficult enough and he had been carrying those bags for an hour as they searched the port for the ship. His whole body was screaming to him to stop and lie down. He thought he would be able to do that now. But he could not.
The mate began to lead Theresa up the ramp when they heard Achmad’s voice. "Thurayya! Thurayya!"
"Go!" Nick shouted to Theresa. "Please sir, take her on board now," he pleaded to the captain.
"I’ll be right there, Theresa. Go on," Nick said, glancing quickly back and forth between Theresa and her approaching husband.
"Nick, don’t."
"I’m gonna protect ya Theresa, like I promised."
As Theresa moved away, Nick turned and faced Achmad head on. He was alone. He and his men had split up to search the port for the ship.
"You are not dead yet?" Achmad asked Nick in Egyptian.
"I am your worst nightmare. You will never get rid of me," Nick replied angrily in Egyptian. "Just leave her alone." As Achmad moved to the left, Nick stepped to the right to block his path.
"Get out of my way!" Achmad demanded. He swung his left arm at Nick’s face and Nick blocked it with his right. The blow sent pain through Nick’s cut, sprained wrist.
He was unable to move quickly enough to block the next tremendous blow to his broken ribs. He dropped to his knees in pain, struggling to breathe.
For several nauseous moments Nick thought that he would pass out. He fought it.
Achmad pushed past him and headed for the ship. Finding strength from deep within, his mind only on Theresa, Nick moved after him. He grabbed Achmad from behind and threw him to the ground.
Reeling from the pain, Nick pulled out the gun and pointed it at him. "Get out of here," he shouted. "Stay away from her."
Achmad rose to his feet and began to back away. As he watched him go, Nick turned his head in time to see that his men had met up and were all running towards them.
"Get out of here," Nick shouted, raising the gun at them.
Suddenly, gunfire exploded around him. He dove to the ground and returned the fire until his gun was empty. And then he saw her behind him. He rose to his feet totally unaware of the pain tearing through his body.
"Theresa? Theresa?" he cried out as he ran to her. He knelt down next to her motionless body. The sight of the blood, normally not a problem for him, sickened and angered him.
He lifted her and held her in his arms, rocking, as tears poured down his face. "Theresa? Theresa? Please talk to me Theresa. Tell me you can hear me," he said in Egyptian. There was no response. She did not even move.
"I’m so sorry," he continued. "I love you Theresa. I love you." Then everything went black.
By the time Nick finished the story his face and voice were devoid of emotion. He stared into the fireplace. Everyone was so stunned by the horror and sadness of the story that they were speechless.
Jo watched as he struggled to maintain control. Suddenly she realized that Rob had been in the room the whole time. He was approaching Nick.
The boy stood right in front of Nick looking straight up at him. "Nick? I am sorry about what happened to Theresa." Nick looked at him. "I wish I could have met her. I think I would have liked her."
Jo approached her son to make him leave, but Nick put his hand out to stop her. He knelt down on one knee and, clearing his throat, looked at Rob with a touch of a smile. "She would’ve liked you, too, Li’l Sailor."
"Really?"
"Absolutely!" Nick replied as he ruffled Rob’s hair. Rob reached up and put his arms around Nick’s neck and they shared a big hug.
Then Nick stood up and stared into the fire again as Rob bounced out of the room.
"Asia, why don’t you show us that thing you were telling us about earlier," Laurie suggested, leading Amy and Meg out of the room.
"Thing? What thing?" Amy asked as they left.
"We’ll go make sure the wagon is ready," offered Taylor as the friends left the room, as well.
Alone in the room together, Jo went to Nick and put her hand on his shoulder. Nick wanted very much to hold her. He wanted even more to be held by her. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he needed her. He moved as if he was going to hold her. But he did not.
He glanced at her, took a deep breath and turned away. "It’s gettin’ late. Better hit the road or they’re gonna miss their ship."
Then he turned and walked out of the room. Confused, Jo watched him leave.
Nick was already waiting in the wagon with the rest of the friends as Taylor said goodbye to Jo on the front porch. Taylor looked around, making sure that nobody was listening.
"He looks at you the way he used to look at her," Taylor told her, smiling.
Jo blushed but then was touched by sadness. "I cannot compete with that memory."
"He’s not comparing you, Jo. I think he’s scared."
"Scared? Of me?"
"Not scared of you. Scared of losing you. It’s like he feels if he lets anyone get too close he’ll lose them, too. He’s been that way since I’ve known him, even worse since Theresa died. Ben never helps matters either. That’s why we always end up fightin’ over nothin’ I figure. He just can’t get too close."
Nick hollered from the wagon for Taylor to hurry up.
"He never starts a fight with me," Jo protested.
"He wouldn’t with a woman. Just walk away instead."
Jo started to speak when Nick approached angrily. "Will ya git a move on, Taylor? Y’all are gonna miss yer ship if ya don’t stop yer yappin’."
Jo and Taylor exchanged knowing glances. Here was another fight like Taylor had mentioned.
Nick continued to bait him. "I’m sure ya don’t got nothin’ ta say that the lady wants ta hear anyway,"
Taylor let it slide. "Calm down, Nicky. I’m comin’." He turned to Jo as Nick glared. "Thank you for your hospitality, Jo."
"It was my pleasure Taylor. You are welcome any time. Any friend of Nick’s is a friend of mine," Jo said, taking Nick’s arm and smiling at him. Nick looked at her, relaxing instinctively at her touch.
"Come on, Taylor," he said quietly. "Be back late, Jo."
"Be careful Nick," Jo called after him, knowing he had very little sleep the past two nights.
When the others had left, Jo spoke privately with Meg.
"Did he speak to you, Jo?" Meg asked.
Jo looked at her with tears in her eyes. "He just walked out again."
"Oh, Jo," Meg said, going to her sister to comfort her. "He went through a terrible ordeal. And then to have the whole story told to all of us like that, it must be like reopening a wound. Give him time".
"I just cannot compete with his memory of Theresa."
"It is not a contest, Jo. If it is, then Nick has some competition, too, you know."
Jo nodded, understanding. Suddenly she recalled her short talk with Taylor. She mulled it over in her mind for a minute.
"Jo, are you all right?" Meg asked, concerned.
"Taylor said something interesting before he left. He said that Nick is scared of losing people so he will not let himself get close. He said that when he and Nick start to get close, Nick starts a fight."
"He could be right, Jo."
"But he does not start fights with me," Jo said thoughtfully.
"No, but he still manages not to get too close."
"He backs off, pulls away," Jo said, beginning to understand. She remembered the nightmare he had told her about just a few days before and she remembered how he once told her of his fear of dying alone. She suddenly regretted all the times she had not reassured him even though she felt she should.
"He is scared, Meg. He is scared that if he gets too close to me he will lose me, too. So, he just won’t let it happen." Tears welled up in her eyes. "What do I do, Meg?"
"Don’t let him, Jo. When he starts to pull away, do not let him! Let him know that you will always be there. I think that is all you can do. The rest is up to him."
"But what if I do that and he still walks away?"
Meg looked at Jo with tenderness, feeling her sister’s fear, confusion and pain. "If you really care for him Jo, you keep trying, as long as it takes."
Jo had been asleep for a long time when she heard the noise downstairs. She wondered if it was Nick getting something to eat after bringing his sea buddies to the train station. But, it was very late for that. He should have been back a long time ago. She went to check.
She found Nick seated in a chair in the parlor. There was no light in the room except for the fading fire. He had a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass in the other. He poured a drink and quickly drank it.
"Nick?" Jo asked, walking into the room.
He did not answer or even look up. She watched him as he poured another glass and drank it quickly, too. He put the bottle on the table next to him.
"That was a full bottle," Jo remarked.
Without looking at her and without saying a word he reached into his pocket, pulled out some money and laid it on the table.
"You know I don’t allow drinking on the premises," Jo went on.
Nick stood up quietly, picked up the bottle and headed for the door. His pain and fear were palpable. Jo stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk?"
He did not look at her, but nodded his head gently and returned to the chair, putting the bottle back on the table. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. She waited.
When he finally spoke, his voice was filled with emotion. "I killed her, Jo. It wasn’t my gun, but it was my fault."
"How can you say that?"
"I should’ve had a better plan."
"You had no way of knowing that her husband could bribe the harbor master."
"I shouldn’t have talked her inta leavin’."
"You know he just would have beaten her again."
"I shouldn’t have pulled the gun."
Jo did not respond. She did not believe that guns ever solved a problem and this situation was no different. Nick waited.
He slowly lifted his head and looked at her with blood-shot eyes, looking for her response, her reassurance, her absolution. He got none, only silence and the accusing crackle of the fire.
He gasped, closed his eyes, bowed his head, struggled to breathe.
Then he reached for the bottle. His hands were shaking and he could not pour.
Jo took the bottle from him and held his other hand steady. Then, to his amazement, she poured the drink. He stared at it in his trembling hands.
"Go ahead, Nick. Drink it. It will solve all your problems. Right?"
She heard him catch his breath, but he was still staring, still trembling.
"Like it does for Ben and your uncle. Right?"
He looked up at her, his jaw clenched, eyes squinted, brow furrowed. She did not know what he would do. He put the glass on the table.
He sat silently, staring at the floor for a minute, maybe two, before he looked at her again.
He nodded his head as if he had just come to a realization.
"I shouldn’t have loved her," he said quietly.
"What?"
"If I hadn’t have loved her, she’d be alright."
"Nick, that’s not true!"
He gasped a laugh. And then he said it, what he had always believed, always dreamed, but had never put into words. "It’s that simple. I shouldn’t have loved any of ‘em." He shook his head. "And I shouldn’t… ."
He stopped, looked at Jo and rose from his seat.
"It’s the middle of the night, Jo. I should let you get back to bed." He headed for the door.
"Nick! Don’t!" Jo cried out. He stopped and looked at her.
"Don’t walk out on me! Don’t push me away!" She was pleading, almost yelling.
He clenched his jaw, not knowing where to look. Then, without a word, he turned away again and walked towards the door.
"I am not going anywhere and nothing is going to happen to me," Jo said.
He stopped again, not turning, and swallowed hard.
Jo took a deep breath, calming herself. She remembered what Meg told her – keep trying as long as it takes.
"You will not lose me if you let yourself love me."
Jo watched in tears as his body quivered, trembled, shook.
And then she heard them; the grief-filled, guilt-filled sobs of a son who had lost his parents too young, of a brother who had lost his sister and lived in fear of losing his brother, too, of a boy who had lost his childhood innocence to a trusted uncle’s violent hand, of a devoted friend who had lost too many, of a man who had lost the only woman he had ever truly dared to love, of a man who feared that to love again would mean to lose again, of a man who felt guilt for it all.
She watched him, waiting for him to make the next move. She had opened the floodgates and now had to see which way the water would flow. He turned to her.
In his tear filled eyes she could see the guilt and regret that he had carried in his heart for so long; she could see the pain of loss; she could see grief and loneliness and despair.
She saw that the rough, shy, confident exterior was a mask put on to guard the heart of a man who loved so deeply, sacrificed so selflessly, and yet had lost so much.
She felt she had no right to be there, in a place so deep and so private.
"Jo," he whispered, reaching his hand out to her.
She took his hand, pulled him close and held him. As he melted into her arms she saw, for the first time, that he was opening the door and letting her into his guarded heart.
When he had calmed himself, he looked at her. The mask was gone. His once guarded heart now bared freely to her.
"I don’t wanna lose you too, Jo. You open up places in my heart that I never even knew were there." He paused and choked back the tears that were welling up again. "I couldn’t bear to go on without you in my life."
"You won’t have to, Nick. You won’t have to."
After his morning chores, Nick took his hat off as he entered the kitchen. "Mornin’ Jo," he said quietly.
"Good morning. How are you feeling?" Jo asked, looking at his blood-shot eyes, wrinkled brow and slow gait – painful reminders of his encounter with the bottle of whiskey the night before. She was ready for his typical "I’m alright" and was surprised by his actual response.
"My head hurts bad." He smiled gratefully and nodded as she handed him a steaming cup of strong black coffee, just the way he liked it. He sat down at the table and held his throbbing head.
She was even more surprised by what came next.
"Thank ya for bein’ there for me when I needed ya."
Jo did not even mind that he barely glanced at her when he said it. He had said it and that meant so much to her.
Still not looking at her, he spoke again. "I lost her twice, Jo. I lost her heart and I lost her life. And now I’ll never even know if she loved me."
"Does it make a difference now?"
"Yeah, it does."
She looked at him, obviously upset by his comment.
He glanced at her, with no mask to hide the pain and insecurity. "I don’t know if I know what love is, Jo."
"I think you do, Nick."
He flashed a shy smile at her and nodded his head in thanks.
She sat down next to him, slipped her hand over his and watched him sip his coffee.
Then she laughed. He looked at her. "You look awful!" she said.
He laughed, too. "Not my best night."
Rob came running down the stairs calling "Mother! Nick! It’s beautiful out. Yippee! Yippee!" He held onto Nick’s shoulder and jumped up and down, shouting cheerfully. "Now we can go on our picnic. Yippee!" Nick cringed at the sheer volume.
Jo reached over and stopped Rob. "I don’t think we can go today, Rob. Nick’s not… ."
"Aw, Mother," Rob said.
"I’m alright, Jo," Nick said, interrupting.
"Yippee!" Rob shouted again. "Let’s go. Anchor’s away!"
"Hold on there L’il Sailor," Nick said. Rob smiled giddily at the nickname as Jo watched happily. "We ain’t goin’ ‘til lunchtime."
The weather was perfect and the picnic was a huge success, especially as far as Rob was concerned. They had finished eating lunch and had polished off big slices of Nick’s favorite cinnamon apple pie.
Jo spoke to Nick as he flew the kite for Rob. "So, do you wear an apron, too?"
Nick just tilted his head and looked at her.
"You know, Mother used to say ‘If you can read, you can cook’," Jo said.
"I’ll have ta talk ta your Mother ‘bout that," he mumbled.
"What did you say?"
"Uh, I said I’ll have ta talk ta my brother ‘bout that," Nick replied nervously. "Ya see, he could read but would never cook." He grinned. She cleared her throat.
"You probably cook better than I do." she said.
"I didn’t say that."
"No, you didn’t. But nobody has ever raved about my cooking like they did about yours."
"Ah, they was just hungry is all."
"You’ve been hungry and you never raved about my cooking like that," Jo said, defensively.
"But I eat it," he pointed out. She looked at him and twisted her mouth. "Well Jo, your cooking is, well… It’s unique." He looked at her. She walked away.
His head still pounding from the events the night before, Nick decided to hand the kite over to Rob. "Hey, Li’l Sailor. Ya ready ta try it now?"
"Sure Nick. It ain’t gonna be easy, though."
"Ya mean it ISN’T gonna be easy. But it is."
"Is what?" Rob asked.
"Gonna be easy," Nick answered.
"Oh."
Rob tried to fly the kite by himself but he was not having much luck. "I s’pose ya need a bit more practice Li’l Sailor. How about we stop for now and ya can play with Max." Rob agreed and Nick reeled in the kite.
He came over to the blanket where Jo was sitting. "Sorry," he said. She smiled and chuckled forgivingly.
He dropped to the ground with a moan.
"Aagh!" He held his head.
"You look exhausted Nick and you must have a splitting headache. Do you want to go home now?" Jo asked.
"Nah. Rob’s still havin’ fun. I’ll be alright."
"Did you sleep at all last night?"
"Nah," he replied as he lay down on the blanket. He closed his eyes and used his hat to cover them.
Jo looked at him as he rested. She watched his muscles relax. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. She smiled.
"I see you," he said.
Jo jumped startled. "What?"
Nick moved his hat and turned his head toward her, his eyes squinted in the bright sunlight. "When I close my eyes ta sleep, on a good day, I see you."
Jo smiled, remembering the question that seemed to have been asked a lifetime ago. "On good days?" she asked inquisitively. "What about the others?"
He looked away and then looked back. "Lotsa folks I don’t see with my eyes open no more," he replied with a lonely touch of sadness in his voice.
Then Nick raised himself up on his elbow and smiled at her. "But, I plan on havin’ lots o’ good days now."
She smiled back at him. "So do I."
He reached his hand out to her and she held it. Then, still holding her hand, he laid back down and covered his eyes with the hat again. Jo reached over and stroked his hair with her other hand as he drifted off into a peaceful, restful sleep.
