“Karen’s eight years old already. And we have another daughter now.” He turned a framed picture around on his desk to show two ginger-haired girls holding a lamb. Eve barely noticed his daughters. The sight of the lamb stunned her—an unwelcome reminder of the Good Shepherd. The Shepherd who had abandoned her. Or was she the one at fault? Had she wandered away from Him? The photograph of Louis’s daughters made the answer painfully clear.
“Are you raising sheep now, Louis?” she asked with a nervous laugh.
“That picture was taken last Easter. The lamb belonged to the photographer. Although the girls begged Jean to bring it home.” A long silence fell at the mention of Jean’s name. Then they both spoke at the same time.
“I should—”
“Eve, listen—”
“You go first,” she said.
“Eve, I’m so sorry for everything that happened . . . I never meant to hurt you—”
“Please don’t apologize. We both made a terrible mistake.”
“It didn’t feel like a mistake.”
She looked down at the floor, not at him. It was more than a “mistake.” They had broken one of God’s commandments. For the first time, she saw herself the way God must see her. No wonder she was being punished. “When you sin against the Lord,” Granny Maud used to say, “you may be sure that your sin will find you out.”
“Those were terrible years, Louis. But I wanted you to know in case anything ever happened to me, that we—” She stopped. Should she tell Louis he had a son? He would be so proud of Robbie.
Eve raised her head to look at the framed picture of his family again, then turned the photograph around to face Louis. She couldn’t do it. She had ruined her own life—she wouldn’t ruin his. Or his family’s. “We helped each other through a very dark time. I’m glad we were friends, even if . . .”
“I love you, Eve.”
“Please don’t say that. I can’t be in your life, Louis. I just wanted to see you again and thank you for helping me through one of the hardest times in my life. I hope and pray that you and Jean are happy.”
“I never told her about us. I still think about you nearly every day, and sometimes the guilt is more than I can stand. After Bob died, I needed to talk to somebody about what happened, so I told my friend Tom Vandenberg about you.”
Eve closed her eyes for a moment. How could she ever face Tom again after he learned who she was? He had been such a good friend to her and Robbie. Her best friend.
“Tom advised me not to confess to Jean,” Louis continued. “He said I should never tell her or anyone else.”
“I agree with him, Louis. Please promise me one thing.” Eve paused as if waiting for him to say, “Cross my heart and hope to die” the way she and Audrey used to do. “Promise me you’ll take Tom’s advice and never tell Jean about what happened during the war. If you confess, you’ll free yourself from the guilt, but then the knowledge will weigh on Jean’s heart for the rest of her life. She’ll always wonder if she can trust you and if you love her. Don’t do that to her. Promise?”
“I promise,” Louis whispered.
“Let your guilt be your penance. And don’t ever, ever cheat on her again.” Eve let go of the chair she’d been clinging to and took a step backward toward the door. “I have to go.”
“No, Eve! Don’t walk away!” He started to rise, but she held up both hands.
“Don’t. Please don’t hold me again, Louis. Just let me go.” She turned, battling to control tears of shame and regret as she hurried outside to her car.
Now what? She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel as her tears flowed. What am I going to do now?
She would be alone again, without a home—like she was after Granny Maud died, like she was after Mum died. If this was her punishment for turning away from God, Eve didn’t think she could bear it.
29
Eve couldn’t go back to the house and face Audrey. Not yet. Not until she figured out where to go, how to live. Turning to Louis for help had been a last resort, but as she drove home after seeing him, steering blindly, she knew it would be a mistake to involve him. That left her without a plan. She’d always been strong, able to think on her feet and adjust to adversity. Her new life in America seemed firmly under control—until Audrey arrived.
As she neared the woods west of Tom’s farm, Eve pulled to the side of the road. She needed the forest, the solace of deep silence. She turned off the engine and opened the door, then realized she was still wearing her expensive polka-dot sundress and high-heeled pumps. How could she walk in the woods in such a fancy outfit? A better question might be, what was she doing in these clothes to begin with? They weren’t hers. She was an actress playing a part—the role of Audrey Barrett.
Had she really been happy in that role these past three and a half years? In all honesty, no. She had not. She and Robbie had been safe and well cared for, but there had been an underlying loneliness and emptiness that no amount of fancy clothes or parties at the country club could ever fill. If she gave Audrey her life back, maybe she could find a more satisfying one. But what about Robbie? The only life he’d ever known would be ripped away, along with all the people he loved, replaced by a life in a tiny flat, barely scraping by. Happy or not, Eve would gladly continue living a lie for his sake.
But now she no longer could.
Eve kicked off her shoes, unfastened her nylons, and rolled them off. She wiggled out of her crinoline, took off her pearls, then climbed out of the car and entered the woods. She seldom walked barefoot anymore, and the rough forest floor hurt her feet. Eve ignored the pain as she moved deeper into the woods, the pain from the choices she’d made outweighing her discomfort. In the distance, a creek laughed and burbled, drawing her. The canopy of trees reminded her of the woods back home, and she remembered the joy she used to feel as she’d played there. At the edge of the woods was the church she attended with Granny Maud and Mum and George, the church where she had felt so loved and cared for—until God had abandoned her.
Or had He?
Maybe Eve had used God’s abandonment as a handy excuse to go her own way. If she was honest, she had to admit that she had turned her back on God, allowing bitterness and grief to lead her, wandering, in the wrong direction, away from Him. Into Louis’s arms. Into a life of lies. Now she was lost, and she had no one to blame but herself. Her own choices. Her own willfulness.
She had drawn such comfort as a child from the picture of the Good Shepherd that had hung in Granny’s cottage and from the stories she’d learned about His love and care for her. Granny said He would search for His lost sheep the way Daddy used to do when one of his sheep foolishly wandered away. He would never leave her lost and alone.
Eve stopped walking. She stood still to listen. “God, where are You?” she whispered. The silence told her that He was gone. It was too late. She sank down on the ground, not caring about her dress, and buried her face in her hands. “God, I’m sorry,” she wept. “I’m so, so sorry!”
Sorry for committing adultery with Louis. Sorry for stealing another woman’s husband, a little girl’s father. She had done wrong, and she couldn’t use the war as an excuse. She was sorry for stealing Audrey’s identity, her home, her family. It didn’t matter that Audrey had thrown them away. What Eve did was wrong. Her lies would cause pain to good, undeserving people like the Barretts and Tom Vandenberg and his family. Worse, Eve had dragged her innocent son into this mess. He would be hurt the most by her sins. Little Harry had already lost his name, and now he would lose his home, his grandparents, his very identity as Robbie Barrett. Would he ever forgive her? Eve wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t.