Enduring Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

“I’m certain that when you took your vows, you gave them in earnest, on that matter we have no differences.” He straightened. “I’ve never married. Years ago I chose to devote my life to God only. But I can imagine the anguish you both must feel.” He rested his arms on his thighs and leaned toward John and Hannah.
    “As I understand God’s Word, it seems clear to me that he sees divorce as a grave sin. And allows it only under the strictest of circumstances . . . none of which you’ve described to me. That is, as long as Margaret is speaking the truth.”
    Hannah steeled herself against what he would say next. She wished it were possible to close out his voice.
    He continued, his expression mournful. “The church cannot sanction divorce under these circumstances.”
    Hannah thought her heart might stop. She’d known what to expect, but to actually hear the words from the reverend’s mouth was more dreadful than she’d imagined. She looked at John—the truth penetrating her soul like a stake being driven into her heart.
    “What are we to do?” John demanded. “I can’t be married to two women at once.”
    His forehead furrowed, the reverend studied his hands, then looked at John and Hannah, his expression firm. “When you said your vows, John, you were already married, which means those vows are not binding.”

4
    With her hands clasped tightly in her lap, Hannah sat on the wagon seat and tried not to think. John kept his eyes forward, his jaw set. Neither spoke as the wagon rolled homeward, rattling over fissures and cavities in the dry road.
    Raucous calls of rosellas and cockatoos fractured the stagnant, humid air. Hannah barely noticed the discordant songs. Her mind kept repeating the reverend’s words, Your vows are not binding . . . not binding. She would lose John. The idea sucked the breath from her. How was it possible?
    She could see Thomas’s sweet, trusting face as they’d left the station that morning. She’d promised him all would be well.
    Hannah stared through a haze of unshed tears. When Thomas had come to live with her and John months before, life had already betrayed him. How would he survive yet another injustice? The sting of tears burned and she swallowed past the tightness in her throat. Lord, what will become of him?
    They turned onto the drive leading to the house. Hannah fidgeted, and John rested a steadying hand over hers. “It will be all right.”
    “No, it won’t. It can’t be. Nothing will ever be right again.” John stared at her and said nothing.
    “You speak as if you believe, but your words are empty, John. There’s nothing to be done.”
    “We’ll find a way.”
    Hannah wished he’d stop pretending. It only made her feel worse. Her eyes moved to their home. She remembered the morning when their friends and neighbors had shown up with materials and with willing arms and backs to lend. In days the house had risen from the dirt. The ache in her chest became sharper. It had all been for naught.
    Thomas stepped onto the porch, jumped to the ground, and ran toward them. How could she tell him that, once again, his life was about to be torn asunder? And that the home and family he’d grown to love would exist no more.
    Blond curls fell onto a furrowed brow. “Mum? Dad?” He gazed up at them, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.
    Jackson loped toward them, his tongue hanging and tail waving.
    John climbed down, gave Jackson a pat, and then assisted Hannah. She couldn’t look at Thomas. He’d know. John rested a hand on the boy’s head for a moment, then without a word, he walked toward the barn, his steps heavy.
    Thomas stared after him, then looked at Hannah. “Mum?” She forced herself to look at him. What could she say?
    “What’s happened? Tell me.” His voice was strident, demanding.
    Hannah gently squeezed his shoulder. “We don’t know for certain.” She watched John slide open the barn door and disappear inside. Why had he left