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Show Page 226 I feared my legs would fail me where I stood. Then my heart began to sing as jubilation surged within me. All my fears were forgotten. It suddenly mattered not whether I had been right or wrong in those fears. All I knew was that John was alive. He had come back to me-and I loved him. With that acknowledgement came understanding. While I knew my fear, my feeling of doom had been real, I had been wronf in yielding to it. For on the day of the massacre Richard had died, though I loved him not. Yet John, who I loved-had, in fact, always loved-had lived. I felt as though a boulder had been lifted from my chest. At last I realized it was not my love that determined who lived and who died. That was left to God. I flew toward John, my feet scarce touching the ground as I dodged amongst the people, leaped the puddles and darted between baskets of corn waiting to be carried to the storehouse, When I reached him and threw my arms about his waist, he could do no more than smile down at me, for his arms were held by the others. For a moment I thought he looked abashed at my immodest behavior, for though his eyes shone, his cheeks flushed redly. 'Twas then John said the words that twisted my heart. "Jane," he whispered through cracked lips. "How good it is to see you. I have missed you since you left." My new-won joy fled. A sickness spread through my belly. |
