A Distant Melody (29 page)

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Authors: Sarah Sundin

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She laughed. “Why would that bother you? That’s all I am to you.”

Baxter’s eyes rounded. “That—that’s not true.”

“You’re right. I’m so much more to you. I’m an inheritance and social standing and respectability and a chance to please my father.”

“This is nonsense.” He turned and strode down Magnolia, his voice quiet, but not quiet enough to conceal a tremor. “You changed the subject. We’re talking about that church. They run you ragged like a common laborer. You’re above this kind of work. You should be behind the scenes like your mother, raising money for worthy causes.”

“That’s not what I want. I want to serve.” Allie matched her stride to his.

He shot her a glare. “I’ve tolerated this because I knew it was temporary, but I’ve had enough.”

“Temporary?”

“After we’re married, you won’t have time for the Red Cross and you will not attend that church.”

“Yes, I will.” But could she? Could they actually attend separate churches? What about their children? Would he let her take them to Groveside? She mustn’t let them attend St. Timothy’s.

Baxter turned to her with strength in his gaze Allie would have found attractive in different circumstances. “I forbid it. In fact, I forbid it right now. You’ll give appropriate notice to the Red Cross, and you’ll never return to that church.”

He expected her to give up her volunteer work and go back to St. Timothy’s? To return to a drab, purposeless life? To disobey God? That was what he demanded—for her to defy God’s will. She stared into his sharp blue eyes under his navy blue hat. Mr. and Mrs. J. Baxter Hicks would try to play a duet, but they would play in different keys, and they would always do so unless Allie succumbed to the temptation to slip into Baxter’s key for the sake of harmony. Something precious would drain from her soul if she honored Baxter rather than God.

Baxter’s face softened. He took her elbow and led her down the street. “Come on. It’s for your own good.”

This was what unequal yoking was. She could already feel the yoke on her shoulders, binding her to Baxter. He would pull in one direction, the Lord would pull in another, and Allie would be torn apart.

Suddenly scandal, gossip, inconvenience, even her parents’ anger and disapproval seemed a small price. Her blood seemed to stop and congeal, as did the thoughts in her head. It was time to choose obedience.

Oh, dear Lord, if this is truly your will, please give me
strength.

Baxter guided her around the brick pillar at the base of the driveway. Allie drew a deep breath, which caught several times on the way in. “Baxter, I can’t do what you ask of me.”

“Excuse me?” He faced her under the glossy leaves of an orange tree. When he saw her expression, his eyebrows twitched, and his grip on her elbow tightened. “Don’t you—don’t you always say you have to obey the Bible?”

“Yes.” She felt taller, stronger, and braver than ever before.

“Well, the Bible—” The line of his lips undulated like an ocean wave. “The Bible says a wife must submit to her husband.”

“Yes, it does.” Allie pried Baxter’s hand off her arm and worked the engagement ring off her finger. “That’s why I can’t become your wife.”

“What?” His cheeks paled.

She held out the ring. “I won’t submit to a man who asks me to disobey God.”

“I—I’m not—”

“Yes, you are.” With peace and resolve, she pressed the ring into his palm and folded his fingers around it. “I’m sorry. I know your house is almost finished, and there will be gossip and scandal and awkwardness, but this is for the best. Why, we don’t even love each other.”

“How can you—how can you say that?”

Allie sighed and gazed into his stricken face. J. Baxter Hicks had come so close to fulfilling his dreams, and now she had dashed them. “I’m so sorry. I do care for you, but I don’t love you, and I know you don’t love me.”

“Love?” Baxter’s eyes narrowed. “Need I remind you? You’re rather plain to be choosy.”

“You’re a lovely woman, Allegra Miller, and you’re very
special,”
Walt had said to her on the train platform, his eyes and kiss confirming his words.
“Don’t let anyone ever tell
you otherwise.”

“How dare you? That’s not true.” The forcefulness of her voice surprised her. “Even if it were, that doesn’t mean I’m unworthy of love. Cressie was never pretty, and her husband adores her. I want a marriage like that, based on love, friendship, and faith. If I can’t, I’d rather not marry at all. Why, Miss Montclair is happy, and I can be too.”

“This is absolute nonsense. Come on. We’ll discuss this later.”

Allie followed Baxter to the house, but no discussion was necessary. She looked down at her ring finger. Her hand and her soul shivered in the freedom and delight of nakedness.

Father folded the newspaper in his lap when Baxter and Allie entered the sitting room. “How was the service?”

“She won’t be going back,” Baxter said in a low voice.

“Yes, I will.” She crossed the dining room with a swing in her arms and entered the kitchen. “Hello, Mother.”

“Well, hello.” She slid the chicken into the oven. “How was church?”

“I loved it. Baxter hated it.” She draped her coat over a chair and suppressed a bubble of laughter. She’d made a decision that would upend the household, and she wanted to laugh for joy.

“Oh?” Mother said. “You sound remarkably cheerful about that.”

“Strange, isn’t it?” Allie washed her hands at the sink, and Mother came to her side to fill a pot with water. Allie looked deep in her mother’s eyes. If only she’d understand. If only she’d still approve. “Please be happy for me.”

Mother’s forehead crinkled. “I’m very happy for you. You’re marrying a fine man.” She glanced down to Allie’s left hand, to her right, back to her left. “Oh, Allie, your ring. Don’t tell me you lost it. Oh dear, where could it be? Does Baxter know?”

She sighed. “Yes, he knows. It’s best if we discussed this after dinner.”

However, Mother took off her apron and dashed through the kitchen door.

Oh no. Not now. Not like this. Allie hastened to follow her into the sitting room.

“Baxter, I’m so sorry,” Mother said. “We’ll find that ring if we have to turn the house inside out.”

“The ring?” Baxter’s shock dissolved into a smile. He fished the ring from his breast pocket. “I have it right here. Don’t worry, Allie, I kept it safe for you.”

“Thank goodness.” Mother took the ring and brought it to Allie. “You had me worried for nothing.”

They smiled at her, Baxter with an extra measure of satisfaction.

Allie had been presented an escape route from parental wrath. She straightened her shoulders, as if throwing off the yoke again. “I gave it to Baxter for a reason, but I’d rather tell you after dinner.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Baxter said, his smile stiff but assured. “Just a little lovers’ spat.”

She rolled her eyes. A lovers’ spat? They’d have to be in love to have a lovers’ spat.

“Allie, be careful what you say in an argument. Never say anything you’ll regret later.” Mother took her hand to give her the ring.

She pulled free. “I’d rather talk about this later.”

Mother’s face began to lose its color, Father rose to his feet, and Baxter settled back in his chair with a smug smile. Allie glanced to an alpine landscape hanging on the wall.
Lord, I need a mountain of your strength now.

Father stepped next to Mother, his face set. “Allie, put your ring on.”

He wouldn’t be her defender this time. Her heart sank, and she drew a breath to buoy it. “No, I won’t. We didn’t have an argument, and I’ll never regret what I did. I’ve prayed about this and I know I’ve done the right thing.”

Baxter lit a cigarette. “She’ll get past this. All brides get cold feet.”

Allie wrestled back her exasperation. If she lost her temper, they’d think she’d made a rash decision. “My feet have never been warmer. I’ve broken the engagement. I will not marry you.”

“Allie . . .” Mother turned the garish ring in her fingers.

Poor Mother. “I’m so sorry. I know how awful this is for all of you. I know how this marriage fulfills your dreams—but I won’t let that happen at my expense.”

“Your expense?” Baxter blew out a plume of smoke. “The expense of silly schoolgirl fantasies? Go ahead. Explain your reasoning.”

She searched her parents’ eyes for mercy. “What’s silly about wanting a marriage as happy as yours? I can’t marry a man I don’t love, I can’t marry a man who doesn’t love me, and I certainly can’t marry a man who doesn’t share my faith.”

“Oh,” Mother gasped. “How can you say such things?”

Father pointed to Baxter. His arm shook. “Allie, you’ll apologize to Baxter this instant.”

“I do apologize. I apologize for the hassle, the shame, the disappointment, but I refuse to apologize for my decision.”

Mother’s lips quivered, and Father’s face reddened. Allie shook her head and turned to go upstairs. She wouldn’t have dinner today, but in all likelihood, no one else would either.

“Don’t worry, Baxter,” Father said. “She’s a sensible girl. She’ll come around.”

“I won’t cancel anything,” Mother said. “You’ll be married July 3.”

Allie sighed. The ordeal was far from over, but the Lord would help her. He’d already helped beyond measure, with all that strength and peace and joy. She glimpsed herself in the mirror in the entryway and halted. She didn’t look
almost
pretty—she looked pretty, with a slight smile and a gleam in her eyes.

Allegro and adagio. A swell combination. Her smile lifted in a crescendo, and her heels tapped a pizzicato on the stairs.

In her room she pulled out stationery and penned a long letter to Walt, relaying the day’s events, including the irony that his blessing on her engagement helped her break it. The letter overflowed with joy.

When she finished, she reviewed the pages and frowned at the intimacy of the letter. What if Walt felt responsible? What if he thought she harbored inappropriate feelings for him?

Allie puffed her cheeks full of air. She needed time and prayer to figure out how to tell him in a proper manner.

Proper? Was it proper that the first person she wanted to tell was Walter Novak?

33

Thurleigh
February 18, 1943

“Come to the hardstand at 1500.”

Walt studied the note on his pillow in Cracker’s handwriting. What? Was this like the “meet me on the playground after school” note he’d gotten from Howie Osgood in fifth grade? The note that led to his first black eye? At least Howie’s shiner had been bigger than Walt’s.

He sat on his cot and pulled out the letter to Allie he’d started before lunch. He was in no condition for a fight. He’d only been discharged from the hospital that morning and he still felt as if a B-17 had crash-landed on his chest.

Walt stretched out on his back and read Allie’s letter again. Strange letter—sounded flat. She described her work and activities, but it was like a newspaper account without her usual color and humor. At the end of the letter, she rambled about obedience and sacrifice, and then she asked his opinion and ratcheted up the level of their communication again. She had a spiritual question, and she didn’t ask her fiancé, pastor, or church friends. She asked him.

Apparently she needed his friendship as much as he needed hers. Good thing he’d decided not to tell her of his love.

He rolled to his side and pulled out the concordance Dad gave him for a high school graduation present, convinced Walt would be a pastor. The concordance came in handy today. Allie wanted godly instruction, and he was determined to give it to her.

After a while, he had several passages marked, and he picked up his pen.

That’s one interesting verse you asked about.
Couldn’t you have asked about something
simple like John 3:16? No, I take that back.
What’s simple about God loving us and
sending his Son for us? I’ll give this my best
shot, but remember you asked Captain Novak,
not Pastor Novak.
Wow, there’s a lot in the Bible on this
topic. We know God is pleased with sacrifice
and asks us to make offerings to him, but
sometimes sacrifices displease God and he
rejects them. You’ve already found 1 Samuel
15:22—strong verse, isn’t it? In Micah 6:6–8,
the prophet tells us what the Lord prefers
over sacrifice—justice, mercy, and walking
humbly with God. Psalm 51:16–17 reads, “For
thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give
it. . .The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a
broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt
not despise.” Hosea 6:6 is so good, Jesus quotes
it twice in Matthew: “For I desired mercy, and
not sacrifice; and the knowledge of God more
than burnt-offerings.”

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