Page 92 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
Edith shrugged. “My eyes are tired.”
As much as she’d enjoyed trekking up and down thebeautiful hills this past week, visiting members of the community inside their simple rural homes, Edith couldn’t deny it was getting harder and harder to climb out of bed each morning—though the aches from sleeping on a dirt floor with nothing more than a thin mattress usually drove her out of it.
Good thing she still had a couple of Tylenol pills left at the bottom of her satchel. Which reminded her, she needed to show Kaya the pills she found during one of their home visits. They didn’t look like anything that came from a prescription. But maybe she was snooping into things she shouldn’t be. Which was why she hadn’t said anything to Amahle.
Edith stretched her back. “I’ll admit being here hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park. But adventures aren’t supposed to be a walk in the park, right? That’s why they’re adventures.” She punched the air again.
Amahle slowly nodded her head, keeping a steady gaze on Edith’s face. Eventually she turned her head and jutted her chin toward her posse of children while touching a palm to her abdomen. “My adventure,” she said with a soft smile.
“Congratulations.”
Amahle dipped her head in acknowledgment. “But—” she pointed to the warped bench—“you are right. Not easy.” She raised a knowing eyebrow. “Verynot easy.”
Edith met Amahle’s warm cocoa eyes, filled with a gentle understanding, before turning her gaze upon the children. They were racing against each other and time to move the ball from one end to the other before daylight faded.
As dusk turned into twilight, and one by one the childrendisbanded to their homes—including Amahle and her youngsters—Edith stayed outside. She found herself questioning why she had never viewed love as an adventure before. It was certainly full of risks. No doubt it carried unexpected twists and turns, sometimes resulting in joy, sometimes resulting in sorrow.
Perhaps she had been living a life of adventure long before she ever set foot in South Africa. And for the first time since her arrival, she wondered if it was time to write another letter.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
After breaking ground last fall, Henry had hoped to have more to show by now than a single foundation. But considering the record snowfalls and windchill factors they’d faced all winter long, he should probably be grateful his crew had accomplished anything at all.
Henry tilted his head back in the crisp morning air. A far cry from balmy, the sun shining on his face at least offered hope. The fact that baseball pitchers had started reporting in for spring training was another promising sign it was about time to kiss old man winter goodbye.
Henry leaned against his truck and folded his arms, gazing at the evidence of his work so far. Nothing but a slab of cement now, it would one day be the focal point of thecampground. A place to gather, a place to fellowship, a place to eat, play, create, entertain, learn...
Henry had a lot of work waiting for him this spring. And he wasn’t the only one anxious to get started. Henry lost track of how many phone calls he’d received from Charles Henderson over the winter with another idea or adjustment. Good thing Henderson had a hefty budget to make the elaborate plans he envisioned not easy but possible.
While snow had fallen over frozen ground, Henry had spent the winter months designing blueprint after blueprint, ensuring every code would be met, every design plausible, every expectation filled.
“I’m proud of you. Mom and Dad would be proud too.”Those words, spoken by his brother a month after Edith left, spurred Henry forward. Kept him from dwelling on what might have been. Kept him planning for the future.
But now he was tired of planning. Now he itched for action.
Ignoring the stiffness in his leg and the ever-present ache in his chest, Henry climbed back inside his truck and gave one more parting glance to the bare-bones structure waiting to be completed. His legacy.
Back at his company’s office, he’d no sooner shut off the engine and had one leg out the door when Peg barreled toward him from the office with her red coat draped around her shoulders. “Get back,” she whispered, looking around her as if afraid of being overheard.
“Why? What’s the—?”
She cut him off with a piercing glare and frantic headshake. Henry raised his palms in surrender, sliding backinside the truck. A moment later, Peg climbed into the passenger seat. “Just act natural,” she panted.
“Sure.” He’d act as natural as a man could sitting in a truck on a frigid late winter morning with a seventysomething-year-old woman doing pursed-lipped breathing next to him. “You okay?”
She nodded her head. “Just need a minute.” Her breathing eventually slowed. “I just got a weird phone call. About Edith.”
“Edith?” Henry darted a look toward his office windows as if he might be able to catch a glimpse of her through the narrow slats of the blinds. “What about Edith?”
“I don’t know. The person kept cutting in and out. But she mentioned your name. I got the impression Edith must have put you down as an emergency contact or something. How they got our office number, I have no idea. But the lady on the phone sounded frantic. She said she had to talk to you right away. She called you Edith’s fiancé.”
“Why does everybody keep calling me that? I’m not.” He shrugged one shoulder. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”
“Henry. Please. I don’t care whether you were actually engaged or not, you two were in love and the whole town knew it. Why do you think it was so easy for everybody to jump to conclusions like they did? And if you still care for Edith even half as much as I think you do, then the least you can do is try to find out what’s going on. What if she’s in some kind of trouble? She’s in South Africa, for crying out loud. For all we know she’s been captured by pirates.”
“Pirates.”
“Yes. Didn’t you ever seeCaptain Phillips?”
