Searching for Anna by Jenifer Carll-Tong (best classic books of all time .txt) 📕

Phoebe stood at the bottom of her porch for several minutes after Jack had dropped her off. It had been a long day, lengthened by her stop at the store to send her father a telegram and Mary's subsequent forcing of food and drink before she would let Jack take Phoebe home. Although she felt exhaustion seeping into her bones, she dreaded walking into her tiny home where she would be all alone. She thought of all the things that would greet her – the basket that had held the lunch she'd shared with Wendell and her father at the train station those many months ago, the table where they'd sat together as he had learned to read, her box of stationery with which only yesterday she had helped him compose a letter. Wood he had chopped. Books he had borrowed. A bookshelf he had carried. Wendell had left an imprint all over her life, physically and emotionally.

Phoebe was about to step onto her porch when she heard a sound. She wasn't certain, but she thought it was coming from behind the church. She stepped off the stairs and headed for the flower garden behind the building. As she drew closer, she thought it sounded like – crying?

She walked around the back of the building and there, crouched between the rose bushes, was Will. She ran to him and knelt by his side. He never looked up, but leaned into her, lying his head on her lap.

"I couldn't save him," Will sobbed. "I tried. I tried so hard, but I couldn't. He died. I didn't save him."

"Oh Will," Phoebe uttered, stroking his hair. "You did everything humanly possible. There's nothing more you could have done."

"I'm the one sworn to protect others. Me. But it was him. He wanted to protect me," he cried.

His wide shoulders quaked with sobs and his face was buried in Phoebe's skirt, so she wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly.

"What do you mean, Will? How did Wendell protect you?"

He shook his head, unable to speak. Phoebe bent over and laid her head on his back. She continued to stroke his hair and pat his back.

"Will, I don't understand…"

"The ground started to cave," he choked out. "We both knew it was giving away completely. He told me that he knew I couldn't save both of us. Even if they got us a rope, I couldn't hold the rope tight enough with only one hand. I tried arguing with him, but he kept saying that his time had come, that he was ready. I told him no, but he wouldn't listen. He said I still had a purpose, a reason to live – that I needed to survive for …" his voice cracked. He tried to finish. "He wouldn't listen to me. He just smiled and said it was time, then he – he – let go. He sacrificed himself so I could live."

Now Phoebe was crying as well, imagining the scene that had haunted Will all day. She knew the feelings, had been there herself, and Will had been so strong for her.

"It isn't fair, Phoebe. It isn't fair."

"I know," she agreed through her tears. Wendell, in one last act of love, gave up himself so the man he admired so much could live. "It's not fair at all." She paused for just a moment, then took a deep breath and added, "But Will, can you honestly say that if God were to open the heavens right now and allowed you, would you pluck Wendell from paradise? Would you bring him back, just so he can finish the life that we feel was cut short for him here?"

Will shook his head. "Of course not."

"We are crying for ourselves, not for Wendell. He's rejoicing right now. We cry because of the empty hole in our lives left by his absence. But you can't blame yourself or feel guilty about a choice Wendell made."

Will had spoken these same words, in soothing tones, only hours before, back when the whirl of her mind had barely been able to grasp at the truth of them. They were words Phoebe had clung to.

"He did it out of love. Find solace in that, Will. Wendell loved you so much, he was willing to lay his life down for you. And he did love you, Will. I wish you could have seen how his face lit up every time he spoke about you. You were like the big brother he never had."

Will's crying slowed as Phoebe continued to touch his hair. He slowly sat up and looked at her. She reached out and wiped the tears from his cheeks, offering him a weak smile. He did the same to her, and they both chuckled. The full moon illuminated the flower garden and cast a bluish light across Will's face. She smelled red roses, once again, but this time, the grief was abated, replaced by another sensation her senses could not readily identify. Her hand fell from his cheek and rested on his chest. Even through the thick wool coat, she could feel the strength of his chest muscles as they raised and lowered with each ragged breath. She couldn't remember ever having touched him like this and her body trembled. Her eyes lifted and she found him staring at her. Even in the semi-darkness, when their color could not be detected, his eyes pierced her with a staggering intensity. He was so close. She leaned in but hesitated for a moment. She could feel his breath on her face, but he didn't pull away. She was out of her mind, but she wanted to – needed to…

She leaned in again and her lips touched his. It was the gentlest of touches, but it sent a wave of fire through Phoebe as if she had been hit by lightning. Will's hand came up to cup her face as he began kissing her back. Her senses were reeling as his lips moved across hers, activating some inert, instinctual drive deep within her. Her lips moved in unison with his, as if they spoke a common language known only to them.

A coyote howled in the distance and the eerie sound of its cry brought Phoebe back to reality. She quickly pushed away.

"Oh, my goodness. I'm sorry – I – I shouldn't have," she stammered, stumbling to her feet. Tears started coursing down her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm – I —…"

Horrified, Phoebe ran off to the parsonage, leaving Will alone in the flower garden.