It was too expensive to fly three people north to San Francisco. Worse, she’d have to look at him over the dinner table and face the hopes of Luís and María on top of it.
Besides, she couldn’t afford the time off work.
On top of that, it was too late to make reservations. All the flights would be booked solid over the holidays.
Excuses flooded her mind as she waited for Alex to come over and speak with her. Visions of him on his knees danced in her head, but he didn’t come within twenty feet of her. Instead, he left quietly, unseen.
When she realized he was gone, she told herself she didn’t care. But it galled her nevertheless.
The telephone rang as soon as she walked through the door. “Cooled off yet?” Alex said.
“Why would I be hot?”
“You tell me.”
She banged the receiver down, hoping she’d burst his eardrum. The telephone rang again. Snatching it up, she snarled, “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear about you. I want to forget you live on the same planet I do.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too!” Ron laughed.
Her face went hot. Covering it, she plunked down on a barstool. “I’m sorry. I thought . . .”
“I was Alex. I take it you two are talking again.”
She gave an unladylike snort. “If that’s what you call it.” The doorbell rang. Carolyn ran to it. And guess who was standing under the porch light, his arms laden with Christmas packages, all professionally wrapped? He couldn’t bother doing such menial labor himself. Wrapping had always been her job, along with the Christmas cards and shopping.
Sierra hissed when she inhaled. “I have to go, Ron. I need to find some Raid.”
Alex didn’t stay long, and after one brief glance at her face, he concentrated entirely on the children. “I’ll be back December 28,” he said, kissing Carolyn. “Want to see me out?” he said to Clanton.
“Sure.”
When the door closed behind father and son, Carolyn turned and looked at her. “This is going to be the worst Christmas of my life!” Tears streaming down her face, she ran to her room.
Sierra had a strong feeling it wasn’t going to be very joyful for her either.
And she was right.
In years past, Alex had fixed the turkey. Her father had taught him how. “It’s a Clanton tradition. The men cook the bird on Thanksgiving and Christmas.” She fixed the bird this year and it was dry as a bone. Gravy helped, but not much. Clanton and Carolyn made no complaints, but she could tell they would have preferred Mickey D’s to her festive efforts. The best thing about the turkey was the skin.
As soon as the dishes were in the dishwasher, presents were distributed. The children were clearly more excited about what Alex had given them than what she’d bought. Who could blame them? His gifts were frivolous, hers practical.
She played Christmas music on the radio, but it sounded flat and depressing. When she wasn’t fuming, she ached with loneliness, thinking about Alex laughing and having fun with his father and mother, sisters and brothers, nephews and nieces, cousins, second cousins, third cousins. The neighbors would probably come to join in, for heaven’s sake!
All through the evening, she kept remembering Christmases past. While the children played, she sat watching television. Dickens’s A Christmas Carol was on. She identified with Scrooge. Then, to cheer her up even more, she watched It’s a Wonderful Life. She made it all the way to George Bailey jumping off the bridge before she turned it off.
I’m a new Christian, Lord, and this is the worst Christmas of my life!
Who do you say that I am, beloved?
Lord. You are Lord.
Then obey Me.
“Do you have a headache, Mom?” Carolyn said, coming into the room and seeing her rubbing her temples.
Headache, heartache, soul ache.
The last thing Sierra wanted to hear Sunday morning was a sermon on forgiveness. Peter’s denial. Jesus had known his disciples’ weaknesses. He had warned Peter. “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” He had also known Peter would repent. “When you turn . . .”
Like Alex saying he was sorry, saying he loved her.
I can’t, Lord. I can’t forgive him and go through it again!
But the words from the pulpit kept hammering the wall around her heart. “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments . . . love does not take into account a wrong suffered . . . love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”
Sierra kept remembering the look on Alex’s face when she told him she didn’t want to love him anymore. It hurt too much. It was true, but that didn’t matter. She loved him whether she wanted to or not. Still, what kind of love tore people apart inside?
Nothing made sense to her anymore, least of all the war of emotions going on inside her. All the while she had thought there was no chance at all of reconciliation. She thought Alex hated her. She’d finally seen her part in the disintegration of her marriage. She had accepted blame.
Now, he wanted forgiveness . . . and she wanted revenge.
Unsettled, her conscience pricking at her, she shut her eyes tightly.
I’m not like You, Jesus.
“We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us,” the pastor said.
I don’t feel strong, Lord. The only solid things I feel are anger and hurt. How do I forget what he’s done to me? How do I stop thinking about him with another woman? How do I ever trust him again?
“. . . whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, let your mind dwell on these things. . . .”
The way he did, Lord?
The way you’re doing, beloved?
She wanted to leave the church. She didn’t want to hear words that opened her eyes to her own sin; she wanted the finger pointed at Alex. She had come to be renewed, uplifted, enlightened. She hadn’t come to be convicted.
If you love Me, you will keep My commandments. Love one another, just as I have loved you.
She wanted to cry out. God, do You have to scrub an open wound? Do You have to pour salt on it?
“Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord,” the pastor said, continuing his message.
She winced. What was she doing?
How could she hold a grudge against Alex and call herself a Christian? How could she expect to feel joy and peace in her life when she clung to past hurts and fears of future pain? The risk was what paralyzed her. Where were the guarantees of a happy ending?
I don’t belong in Your kingdom, Lord. I’m not like any of these good people sitting around me.
What would they think of her if they knew she’d punched Alex not once, but half a dozen times with everything she had? And then kneed him where it hurt most. Never mind what they would think. God had seen!
Humiliation set in, her face heating up.
O Lord, I lost control. All I could think about was the fact he walked out on me. He said he was sick of me. He said he wanted out of our marriage. It was hard, but I let him go. I gave him the papers he said he wanted. I listened to what Dennis and the others said about allowing a nonbeliever to leave a marriage. And now he tells me he never loved her the way he loved me. How do I believe him? How can I trust him? I’m not strong enough to go through this heartache again. I’m not strong enough to go through it now.
I’m not going to give you more than you can bear.
Why don’t I feel comforted by that, Jesus?
She walked home with the children and fixed them bologna sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch. Alex was coming home in a few days. Her mind whirred with conflicting thoughts. She wanted to forgive and forget, but she feared the cost of both.
“Maybe Daddy will call,” Carolyn said.
“He never calls on Sundays,” Clanton said between bites of sand
wich.
Sierra knew he’d be at Mass with his parents today. But when he was here, what did he do?
And why was she allowing herself to think about that snake again?
She and the children walked back to church in the afternoon, and she was treated to another heart-wrenching lesson during the evening Bible study. The subject was self-righteousness. The Word was a double-edged sword, and she was sliding right down the blade of it.
Couldn’t You ease up on me a little, Lord? Do You have to use a jackhammer?
She left the class before it was over and found solitude in a cry room built for mothers who were nursing their babies. She sat nursing her grievances in the rocking chair, locked in the silence until youth group was over and it was time to meet Clanton and Carolyn.
Alex was walking down the path toward her condo when she and the children returned. She should have known.
“Daddy!” Carolyn cried and ran to him. Clanton wasn’t far behind. The three talked briefly and walked toward her. She’d never felt so alone, so cut off.
“Have you eaten?” he said.
“Not yet,” Clanton said. “I’m starved.”
“Why don’t I take all of you out to pizza?”
“Mom, too?” Carolyn said, excited about the idea.
“Mom, too,” Alex said, looking at her.
She knew he would understand if she said no. He wouldn’t argue or try to persuade. She knew the children would understand as well. That was the problem. She felt exposed and petty. They had such great hopes. Shouldn’t she? “That would be nice,” she said, lowering her gaze from his. She’d do it for the children.
He was still driving his Mercedes. He opened the door for her while Clanton and Carolyn piled in the back. When they reached the pizza parlor, Alex ordered a large combo and pitcher of soda while she and the children secured a booth. When Alex joined them, he handed the children a handful of quarters for the video games that lined the back wall. As they dashed off, he slid into the seat opposite her.
“Finally, we’re alone together,” he said, a rueful smile touching his lips. The place was packed with Sunday evening diners.
She smiled back, aching inside. Why was it so much easier to maintain her anger when there was distance between them? Now, sitting across the booth from him, she couldn’t sustain it. It melted despite her determination, leaving behind a sense of vulnerability that frightened her more than anything else. “I thought you weren’t coming back until the twenty-eighth.”
“I couldn’t wait.”
She didn’t ask for what. “Didn’t things go well with your parents?”
“Papa’s speaking to me again. We had a long talk. You paved the way for me.” His eyes darkened. “I meant what I said the other day, Sierra. Te amo. I want us to get back together.”
“Don’t take my agreement for granted.”
“I’m not. Don’t you think I—”
“I don’t want to talk here, Alex,” she said, looking away, tears starting. “I can’t.”
“Yo comprendo,” he said softly. “We’ll eat and take the children home. Once they’re settled for the night, we’ll go back to my place.”
“No way. I don’t want to be alone with you.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
He meant the question to be light, seductive, but she looked him square in the eyes. “Should I?” She saw that the barb stuck and felt immediately ashamed. Forgive, the Lord said, and she had just stabbed Alex with a sharp blade. Looking down at her hands, she could almost see the blood on them and wanted to weep. The only way she could think to make amends was to be honest. “I know where we’d end up, Alex, and sex isn’t going to help solve our problems.”
“That cost you,” he said huskily.
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“It might ease the tension between us.”
“And cloud the issues.” She could see so clearly now how they’d often used sex to bypass issues that were causing fractures in their relationship rather than step back, look, listen, repair, and move on together. “If we’re going to reconcile, we have to build a solid foundation this time.”
“This time? Isn’t love enough?”
“If it’s the right kind.”
Her words clearly hurt him but she couldn’t weaken. When he searched her face, she felt he was looking for weakness.
Lord, help me stand firm. Show me what to do. I love him, but I don’t want to give up my soul to him.
Alex frowned slightly, perplexed. “Okay,” he said softly. “We stay at your place.”
“No. We’ll begin by talking on the telephone.”
She needed space between them. She had made too many decisions based on her emotions, and look where that had gotten her!
The Lord said to renew your mind, and she intended to do that. With distance between them, she would be able to keep her mind clear to think.
One thing she already knew. It was going to take God to get them back together again and make their marriage work.
Kavanaugh has returned.
I was so relieved to see him riding across the field. He was gone so long I thought he had come to his senses. He said he has not changed his mind about anything, but figured I needed time to adjust to the idea of having another husband. He said he rode to Yerba Buena and then Monterey. He bought a wedding ring there from a Mexican jeweler. On the way north, he met other settlers. Five families have taken land east of us near the Russian River. While Kavanaugh was there getting to know everyone, a man returned from Sutter’s Fort and said he heard a rumor gold was discovered in the trace at the mill on the American River. Two of the men have sons who are going back to find out if it is true.
Kavanaugh said one of the men at the new settlement said he could perform a marriage ceremony for us. He has a Book of Common Prayer and the wedding service is in it.
Kavanaugh and I are wed. Lester and Charlotte Burrell held a party for us after the ceremony. There were twenty-seven people there, all strangers who have quickly become friends. We had music! One man played a fiddle and another a mouth organ. I danced until my feet ached. They are good, hospitable people and were very happy to give us a proper wedding celebration. I feel at home in California for the first time since crossing the Sierra Nevada mountains.
I thought to make Kavanaugh and I a wedding quilt so that we would not have to share James’s blanket. So I went to the trunk to take out the squares of fabric the ladies from the quilting club gave me. Beneath them I found a thin wooden tray and under it a Wonderful Surprise. Aunt Martha packed her pretty yellow dress and white lace shawl. When I took them out, I found her Bible in the folds.
I sat weeping over it for the longest time, just rubbing the black leather. The binding is worn from her loving hands, and just touching it makes me feel closer to her. I remember all the hours she spent reading it. When I opened it, I found her note.
I read from Aunt Martha’s Bible for the first time this evening. We are starting at Genesis and will read straight through to the end. After I finished the story of creation, we all talked a long while.
The children are in bed now and Kavanaugh has gone out to check on the stock and take a bath in the creek before coming to bed. I have paged through Aunt Martha’s Bible. I feel close to her with it in my hands. She has written prayers and notes in the margins. Favorite Scriptures are underlined. Pressed between the pages are other surprises that remind me of spring and Mama and days gone by in Galena—a golden Alexander, a pink-lavender shooting star, white Indian plantain, yellow-orange coreopsis, purple coneflower, black-eyed Susans, buttercups, blue aster, a rose-purple blazing star, and violet marsh phlox.
Lord, bless her and keep her always.
Part Four
The Reconciliation
Chapter 25
Alex called every evening at ten fifteen. Carolyn was always in bed by nine, while Clanton dragged his feet until ten. One conversation with his father made him cooperate.
Each n
ight the telephone would ring, and Sierra’s heart would jump. Taking a breath, she’d answer while sliding onto a stool in the kitchen. Alex did most of the talking, while she doodled on the notepad to keep from letting her nervousness come across the line.
As she contained her emotions, Alex opened up. The conversations became excruciating and confessional. The last thing she wanted to hear about was his relationship with Elizabeth, but he had a need to unburden himself.
“She left the East Coast in a bid for independence,” he told her. “She was attracted to me because I was the opposite of the kind of man her father wanted her to marry. Not that she had marriage in mind.”
Sierra could see how it had happened. Work had drawn them together. Elizabeth was assigned to work closely with Alex. Alex was a charismatic man, full of fire, brilliant and exciting. While Sierra was fighting with him at home, Elizabeth was waiting at the office, ready to console and sympathize, ready to build him up rather than tear him down. He’d spent progressively longer hours at the office. They started having lunch together, then dinner. A few drinks led to more. Then the guilt set in, and the only way to alleviate that was to cast blame. Sierra knew she’d become the perfect target. She had already set herself up for the fall by her own childish behavior months before Elizabeth Longford ever came on the scene. If it hadn’t been Elizabeth, it would have been another woman.
“What happened when you went East with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Audra said something about a fiasco in Connecticut.”
“You could say that. Her father and I had words. The same kind your father and I had. You remember what happened?”
“Yes. You eventually became very good friends.” It had taken a few years, but Alex and her dad had grown close. By the time her father passed away, he was Alex’s champion, second only to herself and Luís.
“No,” Alex said. “That’s not what I mean. Do you remember what you did? You came down the stairs and stood beside me. You said you loved me. You made it a declaration, loud and clear. You were ready to fight for us, no matter what it cost you, even a break with your parents.” He let out his breath derisively. “Elizabeth tossed me to the wolves and stood back to watch who’d win.”