Rain
by Rosemarie Hauer

Josiah straightened from his work and stole an involuntary glance at the  windows of Elizabeth's room. She was never far from his thoughts, and over the weeks he found himself more and more unable to look at her solely through the eyes of friendship. He had tasted her closeness, her touch, and he found it increasingly difficult to settle for anything less. Resolutely returning his attention to the piece of wood before him, he struggled to push away the memory of her scent, the feel of her palm on his heated face, the softness of her embrace.

"Josiah?" her voice drifted over to him and it took him a moment to comprehend that it was real and not simply an errant piece of memory.

He turned and met her smiling eyes. "Elizabeth," he greeted her softly. "Do you need my help?"

She shook her head and his gaze dropped to the basket full of freshly dried laundry she was carrying. The piece on top struck him as hauntingly familiar and he recognized it as the nightgown she had worn when she had come to him after his nightmare. Slowly he returned his gaze to hers, noticing that she was aware of his memory.

"Can we talk?" she asked, her expression completely serious, and he nodded mutely.

"Let's walk," he suggested, glad when she agreed.

"Just let me return this to my house", she said, indicating the basket with a gesture of her head.

Josiah waited in front of her door, suddenly nervous as to where their conversation might lead, but he knew very well that it was necessary, that they were both treading dangerous ground and that something had to be done about it.

She returned to his side and they set off together, leaving the town behind. For a while they simply walked on in companionable silence, but then Elizabeth stopped and turned to face him.

"Something is troubling you," she stated, searching for his eyes. "What is it?"

He expelled a quick breath and dropped his gaze for a second to collect his thoughts. She waited patiently for him to speak, and when he finally looked at her again, his heart constricted with longing to simply cradle her to his chest and confess his love to her. Just as a whisper against her ear without having to meet the unsettling depth of her green eyes, he thought wistfully.

Instead he turned to walk on, and she followed, linking her arm through his. The contact was comforting and reassuring, and he smiled to himself, amazed at how she always seemed to know what to do to make him feel better.

"Has it got to do with your dreams?" she nudged gently.

Her question surprised him a bit. He had been certain she was aware of the current flowing between them, of the attraction that had been building from the moment they had met. But now he wasn't so sure anymore that he hadn't imagined it, that it wasn't merely wishful thinking on his part.

Finally he nodded. What he wanted to tell her, did have to do with a dream of his after all. A dream hauntingly beautiful despite all the impossibilities inherent to it.

Elizabeth stopped again, taking his hands as she scanned his face for any clue as to what he was feeling.

"What is it, Josiah? What's so terrible that you can't tell me about it?"

To his dismay he felt his eyes mist with tears and he quickly looked away, but she brought back his gaze with gentle insistence by guiding him with a soft touch of her hand. He met her imploring gaze for a long, endless moment and then he sighed, sitting down on a log beside the path.

"Let me tell you a story," he suggested at last, pulling her down to sit next to him.

"I always enjoy listening to you," she said, half turning in order to watch his face while he spoke.

He inhaled briefly, uncertain if he wasn't pressing on too fast, but finally he began to speak.

"In the Zohar, a Kabbalistic text dating back to the Middle ages, a mystical version of the story of Adam is told. According to this story, the first human being was androgynous, but had two faces: one male, the other female. The Causal Will behind existence saw fit to separate this double-faced being into two entities. Throughout life, each searches to find the other. The circle completes itself when they come together again, but this time, face to face."

"Oh God," she breathed, "this is so beautiful. Josiah, I...."

With a swift motion he touched his fingers to her lips, stilling her words. He knew the gesture was audacious, as was this entire situation, but he didn't have the heart to hear what he believed she had been about to say.

"Now you are probably wondering why I'm telling you this story," he said, the softness of her lips burning beneath his fingertips.

Very slowly she shook her head. Reluctantly he withdrew his hand, waiting breathlessly for her response.

"I've never heard this story before," she began, "and yet it sounds so familiar as if I had always known it. It lived inside me like a promise that has shaped my life."

Josiah felt his heart leap in his chest. She was speaking his soul and he was dying for her to continue.

"How so?" he prompted gently.

"I believe that it may be the reason why I never wanted to remarry," she confessed quietly, and for a moment he thought his heart was going to stop beating altogether. Gradually he became aware of the way he was staring at her, so he cast down his gaze. "What about you?" she asked.

"Priests of my creed weren't supposed to be married," he said. "You know that."

She shook her head with something akin to impatience. "Neither are teachers. That doesn't mean you  couldn't have wanted to marry," she insisted.

He shook his head. "I don't think I ever met anyone who would have been right."

She remained quiet for so long that he looked up to gauge her expression. The grin he encountered was almost mischievous.

"You don't strike me as a naturally celibate man," she remarked.

He swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words. By now he should be used to her candor, but she still managed to catch him off guard many a time, and this was certainly one of them.
 

Storms
by Rosemarie Hauer

They didn't quite reach their quarters before the first heavy drops began to fall. Elizabeth let go of Josiah's hand and started running, although she felt more like soaring. Josiah's confession had made her giddy with joy. She didn't want to think of the difficulties and problems ahead. Just for a little while she was going to allow herself to be insensible, to be simply in love.

When the roof of her home came in sight, Elizabeth stopped, looking about her in search of Josiah. He had stopped a little before she had, and she thought he looked beautiful as he stood there in the rain, looking after her. She threw up her arms and spun around in a silent dance, worshipping the pure joy of being overwhelmed by feelings of such intensity.

He didn't move, he just stood watching her, and suddenly she felt a pull stronger than anything she had ever experienced. Dropping her hands to her side, she walked back toward him, her eyes firmly locked to his. She stopped before him, looking up at his face that was still dry under the large hat. Rivulets of rain ran down her forehead and cheeks as she leaned back her head to study his expression.

"What is it?" she asked with concern.

"I don't want to go back," he confessed huskily, reaching for her face as if to wipe it dry.

She laughed playfully. "I'm afraid we have no choice, Josiah."

He remained deadly serious, but finally he took her hand and continued walking. A strong wind was tearing at her skirts, making it almost impossible for her to walk. Josiah took off his coat and placed it around her shoulders. By the time they were nearing the church, she clung to his arm, holding on for dear life. The wind had risen to a storm, and the rain was drumming relentlessly against their faces as they reached shelter of the church at last.

"You need to change into something dry," Josiah ordered, glancing up at the ceiling with a concerned frown.

"What is it?" she asked. "What worries you so?"

"The roof," he replied. "I'm not finished fixing it. If the storm gets any stronger, it won't hold."

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "The rain would ruin all the work you've done in here lately. And the school things..."

"Please go get yourself dry clothes," he urged, his eyes still riveted to the ceiling.

"I will," she said, "but I'll be back as quickly as I can."

She ran over to her little house and changed her clothes as fast as she could, but when she returned to the church, a large raincoat thrown over her head and shoulders, Josiah was nowhere in sight. Suddenly she heard a noise from the roof and froze. Surely he wouldn't be so insensible as to...

The hammering continued and she frowned with the realization that Josiah had gone up there despite the pouring rain and the storm to repair the roof.  It was getting dark fast, and she knew that soon he wouldn't have enough light to see by. She was just about to rush outside when the hammering stopped and she heard him on the ladder outside. A moment later he opened the door.

"Josiah," she exclaimed, unable to keep an accusing undertone from her voice. "Are you out of your mind? To climb up there when..."

The words got stuck in her throat as she became aware of the soaking wet shirt dangling from his hand. She couldn't help but stare at the profusion of gray curls that covered his chest.

Momentarily he froze in his tracks, returning her stare. "It's all right," he said at last. "Now it will hold."

With an uncertain glance in her direction he walked by her, bending to retrieve a small altar cloth from the back of a pew.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked, puzzled by the frown on his face. "Is there anything that worries you?"

Wrapping the cloth about his shoulders, he turned slowly to face her.

"You," he replied hoarsely.

She shook her head in confusion. "Why should I worry you?"

He lowered his gaze for a moment. "You shouldn't be here...with me...alone. Not like this," indicating his nakedness.  "If someone came by..."

She nodded her head in dawning comprehension. "You're right."

A silent look passed between them, and she thought how exquisite it was to be regarded with that kind of intensity. It was unsettling, too, and finally she averted her eyes.

"I...should get dressed," he said, turning to the door.

"Take my coat," she offered. "Yours is hopelessly soaked."

He half-turned and gave her a warm smile. "That's all right. And besides, the storm is getting weaker already. If you wait a few minutes, you'll be able to reach your house without getting wet at all. "

She saw him shift his weight as he prepared to go and fought back the panic that struck her at the thought that he was leaving. The thought of parting with him now was actually painful. Scolding herself mentally for her irrational reaction, she mustered a smile.

"Thank you for the walk, Josiah. And...for the beautiful story."

He expelled a breath and she couldn't shake off the impression that it was a sigh.

"It was a beautiful afternoon," he said quietly.  As if by some silent command they moved toward each other, and Elizabeth had to tilt back her head in order to look up into Josiah's face. So blue, she thought as she gazed into his eyes. With effort she kept her hands at her sides, although her need to touch him had become all but overwhelming. She leaned forward slightly, her face only inches away from his chest. He smelled of rain and, inhaling deeply, she lifted her hand to place it lightly on his bare arm.

"This is...a public place," he reminded her softly, and she nodded, willing back some reason into her dizzy mind. "Elizabeth," he rasped, "this is..."

"Madness," she finished for him.

"Heaven," he corrected her. "I wish...I just wish..."

"That there were a way for us?" she offered. "I'm afraid our case requires pioneers." She could see the emotions warring inside him clearly mirrored on his face.

"That's what worries me about you," he said. "You're all too ready to take risks. You seem to be the kind of person who is willing to do what she thinks right, no matter what common standards dictate. That's dangerous."

"You're right on one count, Josiah," she replied, holding his gaze with hers. "I'm not afraid of risks."

He took another step towards her, and his hand came up to feather a faint caress across her cheek.  "And you think I'm worth a risk," he murmured, his breath stirring the wisps of hair framing her face.

"I'm certain that you are," she replied quietly. He dropped his hand to his side, but in his eyes she could see a tenderness that gripped her heart and brought tears to her eyes.

The expression on his face made him look like a lost little boy, and it required every ounce of her self-control not to touch him, hold him, comfort him.

"Have there been many women in your life?" she asked suddenly, startled by her own audacity.

At first his eyes widened in surprise, but then he chuckled softly, shaking his head. Growing serious, he said, "Those were different times, Elizabeth, different situations, and different...women."

Although she didn't really understand that statement, she nodded her head. "I just wish..." she said, interrupting herself by quickly biting her tongue.

With a groan he threw back his head, and she watched as the skin of his throat grew tight across his Adams apple.

"I know," he rasped. "So do I. It's just..."

"Yes?" she prompted, when he fell silent.

"I need to protect you. You must understand that."

"You mean you must protect my honor," she amended, feeling his smile although she didn't dare look at him.

"Yes," he replied simply, and she wasn't sure how that made her feel.

"You should go dress," she said, "before you catch a cold."

He didn't move, he just stood studying her solemnly. Then he brought up his hand and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Good night, Elizabeth," he murmured before turning to leave. She looked after him as he walked through the door and let it fall closed behind him. Involuntarily her own hand went to her shoulder where he had touched her.

"Good night, Josiah," she whispered, ignoring the tears that pooled in her eyes.

Sunshine
by Rosemarie Hauer

Smiling, Josiah watched as Elizabeth walked across the meadow, bending down every now and then to examine a flower. She had asked him to accompany her on her expedition to collect plants for her biology lessons, and he had readily agreed.

Josiah thought he had never seen anything more beautiful in the world than Elizabeth's radiant face when she discovered yet another treasure. She still had that childlike quality about her that made Heaven on earth possible. It worried him, though, because that very quality more often than not posed a danger to her, because she was all too willing to plunge herself headlong into something she was momentarily convinced of. That made her a force to be reckoned with when someone tried to get in her way. Smiling to himself, he remembered having been witness to her persuasive powers several times, when she had talked to stubborn settlers who didn't see any use in sending their children to school. He had seen her dance in the rain and play in the sunshine, and it didn't surprise him in the least that the children adored her. After all, so did he.

"Josiah, look at this," she called, waving him over to where she knelt in the grass, running her fingertips over the petals of some rare flower. "Do you know what it is? It's beautiful."

He squatted down beside her and took a closer look at the light blue flower. "I don't think I've ever seen it before," he admitted, "but then I'm no expert." When he finally raised his eyes, she was sitting in the grass, studying him.

"Thank you, Josiah," she said, "for being so patient with me, for giving me your time so often."

He dropped to his knees and sat back on his haunches. "No big sacrifice, you know," he said with a grin.

She lifted one hand to his face and he felt her cool fingertips on his chin as she touched him lightly. "People are probably gossiping already," she said, but he didn't have the impression that that particular fact bothered her too much. Unable to help himself, he captured her hand in his and pressed his lips to her palm. He hadn't meant to do that, he had no intention of overstepping any boundaries. He knew all too well that fulfilling the desire springing to life between them every time they exchanged a look or shared a touch was so out of reach. She trembled, and he released her immediately. He knew it would have been wiser to drop his gaze but he couldn't. Her eyes were huge and rich with emotion as she stared at him, her expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, avoiding her gaze as he rose to his feet. She followed him instantly, placing one hand lightly on his sleeve.

"Don't be," she said. He moved, meaning to gently pull away, but her fingers tightened reflexively around his arm. "Josiah, I..."

He raised his head, looking at her, and the expression on her face took his breath away. Underneath the concern that pulled her brows into a frown he sensed her desire to drop the tight rein she was keeping on herself, and the moist glitter in her eyes betrayed a yearning that spoke to the deepest places in his soul. He doubted that anybody had ever looked at him like that, with so much tenderness and awe.

Josiah was faintly aware of murmuring her name, and the next moment she was there, placing her arms around his waist as she leaned her cheek against his chest. He pulled her to him with involuntary possessiveness and buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. She smelled of sunshine and her soft breathing reminded him of the wind that whispered through the high summer grass. Suddenly she raised her head and his whole range of vision narrowed down to the sight of her full lips so close to his face. He had known the love of women, and he had never been shy to give and receive kisses of any kind, but now his heart pulsed wildly in his throat as he faced a longing so deep that it stole his breath away.

She pulled away, and a silent prayer of gratitude flitted through his mind -- that she was reasonable enough to stop him, to lead him out of this before it was too late. But the next moment he felt her lips on his cheek, her touch as light as the flutter of a butterflies wings. He gasped under her caress, his mind reeling with the promise of her seemingly innocent kiss, and it was with effort that he remembered his vow never to do anything that would cause her harm.

The regret in her eyes tore at his heart and he lowered his head until their foreheads touched.

"This is going to kill both of us," he murmured.

"It doesn't have to," came her whispered reply.

With exquisite tenderness he showered her face with tiny, pristine kisses, deliberately avoiding her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered under his lips and he thought his heart would burst with the depth of his love for her. When he finally pulled back to look at her, he found her studying him with moist eyes.

"Sometimes I think," she began, "that God must be very cruel to split a being who is perfect in its completeness in two imperfect, aching halves."

"As I understand it," he replied, "it was meant as a chance to grow."

"To make the moment of reunion all that much sweeter?" she offered quietly.

He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. "I think so."

"Then how can it be wrong to complete the circle?" she asked in a tremulous voice. "How can wanting to be whole again be a sin?"

Josiah cast a helpless glance at the deep blue sky. "It isn't," he finally said. "There is nothing more sacred than the act of love." He felt her tremble against him and his arms tightened around her in involuntary protectiveness.

They stood together in silence for a long while, and finally Elizabeth was the first to move. "There's a time for everything," she murmured, leaning back in his arms. "Isn't that what the bible says?"

He smiled down at her. "That's right."

Her face was radiant as she cupped her palm around his cheek. "Good," she said simply, and Josiah thought he had never heard a word with sweeter meaning.
 

To Part 4