Free Acadia Song 04 - The Distant Beacon by Janette Oke, T Davis Bunn Page A

certainly.”
    “I would like to know when. The end of our journey is just ahead of us.” Idly Gordon rolled his spoon back and forth between his fingers. “I will deliver you to your estate, then return alone to my ship. That is, unless . . .”
    She knew he waited for her to ask, Unless what? But she could well imagine the response, and it was something she would rather not hear. “I find it most difficult to speak of the future, as it lies both tender and heavy upon my heart.”
    Gordon turned in his seat so as to face her squarely. “It is precisely this tenderness which I deeply desire to know better.”
    Nicole had no choice but to get up from the table. “I thank you for your company,” she said, then raised her eyes and voice both. “I bid you good evening, gentlemen. Captain. I must get some rest now.”
    Gordon neither stood nor offered a polite farewell. Her last impression before leaving the room was of Gordon morosely spooning the remnants of his meal.
    Nicole returned the innkeeper’s good-night and climbed the stairs with a heart in turmoil. How she would so like to do as Gordon wished and reveal to him her feelings. How desperately she wanted him to stay. To remain on the estate and help her face all the unknowns of this volatile time. To become the man she could give herself to fully.
    Yet her fears clamored more loudly than her longings. Nicole prepared for bed, her mind a litany of doubt and dismay. She was afraid of opening her heart further. In fact, she was terrified she had already gone too far. Feeling beset by her earlier mistaken love with another who had in similar fashion moved resolutely against the tides of faith, she wondered again whether some flaw in her nature drew her to one who knew not her Lord.
    It seemed as though she had scarcely laid her head on the pillow before dreams swept her up and away. But there was little rest in this slumber, and no peace. For there in the dark her room was invaded by the presence of Jean Dupree, the Acadian she had loved so deeply, yet who was so wrong for her. The man reached across distance and years both and leered at her. In her half slumber Nicole cried out and heard herself do so, for the man of her past had found a way to break through her shield of faith. She awoke to find herself weeping, realizing then it wasn’t Jean who had assaulted her but her own weakness.
    The bitterness of her past mistakes, the pain of many trials, the fear of revisiting the hardships of her youth—all this remained with her and formed the doorway through which Jean had entered. Nicole lay in the dark and tried to stifle her sobs. She rose from her bed to kneel and pray for the strength to carve a new beginning for herself.
    She clenched her hands together with the fervor of one who realized she had no answers of her own. No answers, and not nearly enough strength. “O dear God,” she wept, “bring Gordon to his knees so he forms a new and true commitment to faith, whatever might come of my feelings for him. Show me if he is the one for me. Please, I beg you. Let this love be real and good in your eyes. But if it is not to be, please make that clear to me. And hurry, Father. There is so little time left. Please, I beg you.”

Chapter 8
    The weather remained unpredictable, with one day’s wind blowing down winter from the north, and the next a warmth that bound them to a fairer season farther south. The land itself proved most agreeable, gentle rolling hills and large fields surrounding orderly farms. Nicole and her companions forded streams and creeks constantly, often catching glimpses of fish jumping out of the clear-running water. On the fourth day the south wind blew so kindly they traveled with oilskin cloaks rolled up and tied behind their saddles.
    That afternoon, as they were passing around Templeton, a cadre of mounted men rushed over the edge of the road and crowded in tightly around the group.
    They were unlike any soldiers Nicole had ever seen