Letters and Love

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Elizabeth

"It is not a matter of her being able to change what I believe," I said slowly, realising that Martha was waiting for me to answer. "I'm sure Noah is telling the truth."

My new friend nodded her agreement. "He is a man of good character. I would swear to it any day. He's made mistakes in his life, as we all have, but he would never take advantage of a girl like Annie Burns," she said emphatically.

"But I would like to know why," I continued. "Why have the Burns done this? Why have they spread this story? What did they have to gain by ruining Noah's reputation as they have?"

"You think that if you can get Annie to admit what has happened it will all go away?"

Huffing, I shook my head. "No, I'm not that naive. I think it has reached the point that there will always be some who believe Noah is guilty. Isn't that the way it always goes? No matter how much evidence you have, someone will refuse to believe you for whatever reason they might have."

"But you still want to try."

I sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "Well, yes. I don't like seeing Noah so hurt. He has been betrayed by people he thought were his friends. I think it would ...I don't know. Maybe comfort? No, that's not right." I huffed as I struggled to think of the right way to explain it. "I think it would help him somehow if he understood why this has happened."

"Maybe help him accept that he hadn't done anything wrong?" Martha suggested. "I suppose you might be right. I think if I were in his boots, I would wonder what I had done that had been misunderstood."

"So is there a way I can get to town?" I asked, hopeful.

But still, my friend shook her head. "Even if my husband weren't using the horses, I don't think you should rush off without a plan. The girl is probably on her parents' farm with her own day's chores. It would be unlikely you would find her in town and I know you wouldn't be welcome at their farm."

Heaving a sigh, I conceded the point. "And I'd probably get an ear full of gossip from everyone else I met. But I still think I should talk to her."

"Why don't you speak to her before the sermon tomorrow," Martha suggested. "Noah says they scarcely miss a Sunday when the preacher is in town. You'd be in no danger then."

Danger was the furthest worry from my mind. Would it be right to discuss it on the Lord's day? Wasn't Sunday supposed to be a day of rest and peace? But it seemed the only opportunity I would be given.

"I'm sure the good Lord will approve of anything you do to make peace," Martha said as if she had read my thoughts.

"It's a shame women like you aren't allowed to run for any political position," I told her with a laugh. "So many problems could be avoided."

"Oh, no!" she said emphatically. "I wouldn't go near politics! Who would want to try to reason with self important men who just want to get their own way without any concern for what the people really need? I have much better things to do with my time."

Laughing, I agreed with her. "It does seem like children arguing with each other at times." My father had followed all the political arguments of both sides, especially during the war. Any time I had listened to him talk about it, my head would spin with how absurd it all could be.

"Are you ready for your wedding? Do you need to iron your dress? Does anything need to be washed?" Martha asked, changing the subject.

"Yes. No. And no," I responded, amused by the sudden onslaught of questions. "I'm as ready as a woman who traveled across the country can be."

Martha crossed to the rocking chair. She bent down and rummaged in her knitting basket. "Well, I hope you will take this with you," she said, straightening up. In her hand was something blue. "You know the old saying 'something borrowed, something blue'? This ought to fit the bill."