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

try arguing that woman out of anything."

"What do you mean?" Will asked, but before Frank could answer, Captain Reynold's walked up. He had arrived in the middle of the night and spent the last several hours interviewing the troopers involved in Will's rescue.

"Take these with you," he said, shoving a thick, sealed envelope into Will's hands.

"Sir?"

"It's my report. When you arrive in Lansing, after you have delivered the boy's body, you are to immediately report to headquarters. Colonel Vandercook is waiting for that report. Then he will tell you what decision they've made."

"Decision?"

"Son, a man has died. On your watch. There had to be an investigation. I tried to show the facts as clearly as possible, but your fate doesn't rest in my hands. I wish it did."

Will nodded and picked up his haversack. He should have seen this coming.

"Why's she here?" Reynolds asked, flicking his head in Phoebe's direction.

"She's the pastor, sir," Frank intervened. "She's going for the family's sake."

Captain Reynolds' scowl didn't change. His eyes flicked between Will and Phoebe, then settled back on Will. "Report immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

'A man has died. On your watch.'

Captain Reynolds’ words echoed repeatedly through Will's mind as he and Phoebe traveled. He couldn't shake them. Nor could he shake the feeling of failure and loss that blanketed him, smothering him.

"Will, where's Wendell?"

Phoebe's small voice broke through his torrent of thoughts, a wave of fresh air to his suffocating soul. He turned to look at her. She sat, head down, twisting her handkerchief in her hands. His heart sank even further. He had been so engrossed in his own thoughts and anguish that he hadn't even considered the turmoil she was experiencing.

"In a special freight car. The train company has a system for transporting…" he trailed off. She didn't need to know all the details. "I made sure his casket was loaded into the car and secured before coming to get you."

She nodded, but the hankie twisting did not diminish. In fact, it seemed to increase in intensity. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand in his.

As soon as he did, he realized his mistake and braced himself for a rebuke. But there was no rejection, no sharp words. Will leaned back and rested his head against the seat, grateful that, at least for the moment, he could draw strength from her.

After several moments, she finally spoke.

"Will?"

"Yes," he said. He continued staring straight ahead at nothing.

"Will, I need to speak with you."

Her tone was serious, yet she still didn't pull her hand away.

"Go ahead. I'm listening."

"I need to apologize to you. I want you to know how truly sorry I am for wronging you so."

Thoroughly confused, Will turned to face her. "Wrong me? How have you wronged me?"

She looked up at him, her brown eyes pleading. "Please, Will. Don't make me say it out loud."

"I'm sorry Phoebe, but I have no idea what you are talking about."

"I am trying to apologize for what happened last night – behind the church."

For the life of him, he couldn't recall a single thing from the previous evening behind the church that he would label 'wrong.'

"Are you really going to make me say it?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm sorry Pheebs, but I'm afraid you must, because I haven't a clue what you're trying to apologize for," he answered sincerely.

Phoebe looked at her hands as they nervously fumbled with her handkerchief. "I'm talking about the kiss," she said quietly without looking up.

Will was silent for a moment. He had the urge to laugh, but the distress on her beautiful features, coupled with the absolute sincerity of her voice wrapped around his heart in a way no other woman's words or actions ever could.

"Phoebe, why on earth would you need to apologize for that?"

"I shouldn't have done that. I had no right," she insisted. "I don't know why you're confused. It wasn't that long ago that you apologized to me for doing the very same thing."

"That was different," he argued.

"I disagree. It's the same exact situation," she insisted. "If anything, this is worse, because I'm not a child."

"It is completely different. When I kissed you, I didn't have permission. Your heart didn't belong to me. But you – well, my heart – mine is completely yours."

She raised her eyes to his, her perfectly formed lips struggling to form words themselves. He longed to put action behind the words he had just expressed. Instead, he said, "And you have my permission to repeat that kiss whenever you wish."

Flame rose to her cheeks and indignation returned to her voice. "How can you joke about this?"

Because if I don't, I'll kiss you. "It's not a joke to me," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Listen, Phoebe, now is probably not the time to discuss such matters, but you have to know how I feel. I haven't exactly been secretive about the affection I have for you."

Phoebe started to protest, but Will put up his hand to stop her.

"You can't tell me that I'm wrong about my feelings. They're my feelings."

Phoebe dropped her head, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Like I said," he continued, settling back into the seat. "Now is not the time. But I don't want you to feel guilty about that kiss. For me, at least, it was a ray of hope in an otherwise very dark day."

That ray of hope continued to blossom as she continued to hold his hand. He knew he was in uniform and shouldn't behave so informally, but the train car was nearly empty, and he was willing to risk his professional reputation for even a few moments longer of her touch. Besides, he had no idea what would happen once they arrived in Lansing, so maybe he didn't need to be concerned about being a Michigan State Trooper for much longer.

With his free hand, he tapped the envelope that held his future against his knee. He didn't know what the report within said, but no matter how scathing, it couldn't compare to the brutal judgment his own mind was unleashing upon him.

"Will," Phoebe whispered. "What's wrong?"

Will breathed deeply. "It's nothing," he answered lamely.

"It's something. You were frowning so severely just now. I know something is wrong. If you can't talk to me, who will you talk to?"

Will took another deep breath. "I was just thinking that I should have been the one to die."

Phoebe gasped. "Oh Will! Don't say such a thing!"

"You don't know what it's like, Phoebe – being called by God to serve and protect others, then to fail at that calling. How would you feel if the tables were turned?"

"I've failed in lots of ways, Will."

"But not with Wendell. You didn't fail him."

"You did everything in your power to save him."

"Did I?" he asked. "Wasn't there something more I could have done?"

"You said yourself that it wasn't anyone's fault. It was an accident."

I said it wasn't your fault, he thought.

But in his heart, he felt responsible for Wendell's death, and the envelope in his hand might just confirm that suspicion.

He fell into a brooding silence, knowing that she too was sensitive about the subject of the hunt. It was ridiculous for Phoebe to feel any sort of responsibility. But Will - that was another matter. It had been his foolhardy idea to go hunting in the first place.

"I'd never seen him happier," Phoebe said, interrupting his thoughts.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I've never seen Wendell happier than when he told me that you were taking him deer hunting for his birthday."

Will blinked. "When did you speak with him?"

"Friday evening – the night before…" her voice trailed off. She cleared her throat and continued. "He had received a horrible letter from home – his girlfriend back in Lansing broke off their relationship and he wanted my help in composing a response."

Will's head flopped miserably back onto his seat. "You've got to be kidding me! How awful!"

"Oh no, Will, it wasn't like that. He wasn't upset. He trusted God, showed the girl immense grace, and then talked cheerfully of his upcoming hunting adventure with you the next day. Will, that trip meant the world to him – you meant the world to him."

With his head still resting on the seat, Will closed his eyes. Wendell had meant the world to him as well, and now he was gone. Will wondered…would he be able to protect Phoebe if the time came?

Phoebe withdrew her hand and reluctantly, Will released his grip. He tried to hide his disappointment, but his disappointment was soon replaced with delight when, after a few minutes, he noticed the slow, steady rhythm of her breath. He was happy she was able to find rest after all they had been through. He was even happier when her slumbering head began lowering toward his shoulder. With a slight adjustment of his position, he was able to angle himself beneath her bobbing head. After a few more bumps of the train, Phoebe's head lay nestled against his shoulder. Will couldn't think of a more delightful way to