She handed the keys to me. "Be careful, Louisa! The gears are sticky!"

I thanked her, jumped in the old Ford, and rumbled off down the street before she could change her mind. It was more than a little annoying to me that everyone considered me to be an inept driver. I had just driven, successfully, through half of Mexico. In the rearview mirror, I saw Rosita making the sign of the cross on her chest as I turned the corner and sped out of town. I knew the prayer was for her Ford.

I arrived at the yawning copper pit and found Robert's car. I walked around the crater, searching for him. I thought there would be workers there today but it was deserted. I was starting to get worried and fought back a frightening thought. But then I saw him.

He was sitting on a ledge, head in his hands. I wondered if he had been at this pit all night and all day. He looked, to borrow one of Aunt Martha's phrases, like something the cat dragged in. Scruffy with dark whiskers shadowing his cheeks and chin. Dark circles under distant gray eyes. Dried tear marks traced his cheeks. He wasn't even wearing his trademark tie. And his suffering was palpable.

He didn't look up when I reached him. I sat down beside him and quietly said, "Robert, please come home."

He gave me a stranger's glance. "I need to be alone," he said, in a tone that made it clear he wished I hadn't come after him.

I sighed. "Please don't do this."

He stood up and walked away from me.

I followed him, knowing he didn't want me to. "Don't do what you're doing now. Shutting yourself away. It's just like it was when I first got here, when you spent your time away from the house, and William spent his time up in the tree house, and no one in the parsonage talked to each other."

He stopped abruptly. "You could not possibly fathom what I am experiencing."

"Then tell me! Tell me how you feel!" I could tell by the look on his face I had pushed him too far. He was angry with me. And I was glad. At least it was some emotion. I wanted him to fume; it was better than this paralyzing sadness. "Go ahead! Get mad! Robert, you have every reason to be angry!"

It worked. The simmering volcano erupted. "Do you have any idea how it feels to know that my wife ran off with Mueller? And that she was living just a few hours away in Mexico? Or to realize what a fool I've been-working with Mueller on church business and banking business-while he was having an affair with my wife? You and I had lunch at his house not so long ago! Lunch!" He kicked a stone as hard as he could in complete disgust. "What's the word for me...a first cla.s.s cuckold? How do I even dare stand in a pulpit to my congregation after this?"

Now the volcano was spewing.

"Not to mention what Ruth did to William, not once when she left, but twice? He asked her to come back with him, and she, essentially, abandoned him again! I'm glad she's dead. I really am. But I still have to keep living and try to repair the damage she's done. Once again."

He practically spat the words, then turned and walked away.

I trotted behind, trying to keep up with him. "Robert, there's not a person in this town who wasn't fooled by Herr Mueller. Everyone! He stole from and lied to the entire town." In my mind popped the filled sacks of treasured possessions, even some beloved child's cast off baby teeth, in the back of the truck. Probably on their way to Germany by now.

He spun on his heels to face me. "No, Louisa, not everyone! You knew right when you met him. And William knew."

"But that's only because I had come from a country that was filled with Herr Mueller types. And William knew because he had seen them together." I told him about misunderstanding William's meaning of "girl."

I paused before saying what I had really come to the pit to say. "Robert, there is another way of looking at this."

"And what way is that?" he said, arms crossed in defiance.

"Do you remember telling me you believed G.o.d was giving you a second chance to give yourself to Him?"

"Of course, I remember. That was just a few days ago," he said, irritation rising in his voice.

Could it have only been a few days ago? So much had happened to us; it felt like months had pa.s.sed. "You said G.o.d wanted all of you. I think you're right, Robert. I think G.o.d is asking more of you."

Bitterly, he answered, "then it's more than I am able to give."

"Wait. Listen to me for a moment. I think G.o.d gave you a gift in this encounter William and I had with Ruth. You have your answers about her. She can't hurt you or William any more. You know why she left and with whom. And you know that nothing could change her mind; she would leave again. The choices that she made, all of them, were hers to make. And hers to die for. But now it's over, Robert. And I truly believe G.o.d wants you to move forward with your life."

His arms dropped to his side. He shook his head and looked at the sky as his gray eyes filled with tears. "Was she evil like Mueller?"

I didn't answer him right away though I had given that question some thought. Herr Mueller had sold his soul to the devil long ago. But Ruth? "I think she might have been so selfish that she couldn't truly love anyone but herself. But whatever horrible choices she made in her life, she did help William and me to escape. She did one thing right. Try and remember that."

He turned and kicked at the mounded earth, looking remarkably like his five-year-old son.

"There is one person who has shared your experience, Robert. William. Ruth treated him the same way she treated you. This time, share your grief with him. Heal together, not separately. William needs you in a way that only you can help him. Only you can understand how he feels."

I stopped for a moment to let that sink in. "You're needed at home. Your son needs you. I need you. Please come home."

There. I was finally finished. I said everything I had come to say.

He covered his face with his hands for a moment. Then he exhaled heavily, as if the fight had finally left him. "Who's the minister now, Louisa?" he asked, a sad sweetness in his voice. He took my hand and looked right at me with the look that I had come to expect from him. A look that I had come to want from him.

"Actually," I said as I took his other hand, "I'm the lucky one. I got the package. You and William." I swallowed and hastened to add, "and Aunt Martha."

Then we walked, hand in hand, back to the automobiles. "I'll follow you home," he said, holding the door for me as I climbed up into Rosita's truck.

It might have just been my imagination, but I could have sworn I saw a trace of amus.e.m.e.nt light his eyes as he watched me back Rosita's truck up and shift from reverse to first gear, making a horrible sound as I ground the gears.

Home, I repeated to myself. I was going home.

Chapter Sixteen.

The Mexican Police sent Ruth's body back to Copper Springs for burial. We had a small service for her, just the four of us, headstone and all, and put her in her final resting place in the cemetery next to the church. It seemed a touch of irony that she had tried to get away from Copper Springs most of her life, yet here she was, back to stay.

We had struggled to find the right epitaph to be inscribed on her headstone, finally settling on: "We hope she found the peace she was looking for."

After William solemnly laid a long-stemmed white rose on the grave, Aunt Martha took him home. Robert and I stood at the gravesite a few minutes longer, both of us lost in our thoughts about this woman who lay before us, far below in the ground.

Finally, I broke the silence. "I think you were right."

"What could I possibly have been right about?" he said, still looking down at the fresh grave. "I'm shocked to hear those words from you." He glanced at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"Ruth and I are a little bit alike."

He groaned. "Oh Louisa, I never should have said that. Please forget it."

"She even said so herself. But I disagreed with her reason," I admitted. "Anyway, just a little bit alike. We both are, were, no, I mean, are stubborn women."

"Pushy, too," Robert added.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"And you both think you're right about everything and everybody."

I frowned at him.

"But there's a big difference between you. Ruth wanted everything her way. You're willing to wrestle with G.o.d to make it His way. The difference is...well...quite literally, it's a difference between life and death." He looked back down at Ruth's grave.

"Now there's an interesting sermon topic," I said with a half-smile.

Robert turned to me. "You know, for one brief moment, that day you disappeared, before I realized that William was gone, too, before I realized Mueller had taken you, before I found the ring, I thought that maybe you...," his voice trailed off.

It slowly dawned on me what he was trying to say. I turned to face him. "But you knew, didn't you? Robert, you knew I wouldn't have left. You knew that, didn't you?" I searched his eyes for my answer.

It was important to me he knew he could trust my promise, even if it was made hastily before a judge to ensure my citizenry. I might share stubbornness and pushiness and self-righteousness with Ruth, but that was where the similarities ended. I kept my promises. I was not like her.

He looked at me and smiled. "I knew."

I stepped a little closer to him and slipped my hands into his. "There is just one other thing more I haven't told you. Something I did tell to Ruth."

He took a step closer to me.

"I told her I loved you."

Then he kissed me, gently at first, then with deep feeling, not even caring we were right in front of Ruth's grave. Rather symbolic, I felt. Ruth's hold was finally broken.

Epilogue.

Not long afterwards, Robert and I had an official church ceremony to, what Robert called, really 'seal the deal.' Reverend Hubbell, the retired supply minister from Douglas, was kind enough to do the honors. The judge's wife banged out her rendition of Mendelssohn's Wedding March on the organ, a special request by Robert as a surprise for me. The musicianship might not have been stellar, but I suspect Felix Mendelssohn would have been delighted to know his music was being played and appreciated in Copper Springs, Arizona.

Our courtship began on our wedding day. We started our life together with a renewed optimism, as the war in Europe slowly drew to conclusion.

The world of the Allies rejoiced, on April 30th, 1945, when Adolf Hitler committed suicide by shooting himself in the mouth after poisoning his mistress.

Hitler's Thousand Year Reich had crumbled within a decade.

One week later, Germany surrendered unconditionally. Hitler's henchmen scattered like rats to a sewer system. Some were found in the days and months and even years following the war, but Heinrich Mueller, head of the German Gestapo, has not been found. Nor has his cousin, Friedrich Mueller of Copper Springs, Arizona. Fortunate fools. But one day, I take comfort in the fact they will stand to be reckoned with before the Almighty Lord.

Hearing of Hitler's death made us eagerly expect to learn of Dietrich's release from prison. We were anxious to tell him our story and the role he played in bringing us together. He was never to learn of it. To our great sorrow, we heard that Dietrich's trial had finally happened, after two years in horrible prisons with appalling, inhumane conditions, just three weeks before Hitler died.

In the kangaroo court of n.a.z.i Germany, Dietrich and his brother-in-law Hans had been found guilty of treason and were hanged on April 9th, just one week before the Allies reached the camp where he had been held in Flossenberg. No one was notified of their death, not even Dietrich's parents. They finally heard of their son's death on a radio broadcast from the BBC.

When the news finally reached us, and we heard of the gruesome details of his execution, we both wept for our beloved friend. Heaven's gain was earth's loss.

The townsfolk of Copper Springs survived. Perhaps because no one went unscathed, it was easier for the town to help each other get through Herr Mueller's devastating deception. Even his own wife, Hilda Mueller, was left penniless and homeless. Amazingly, she knew nothing of her husband's secret life.

In a remarkable show of charity, the town embraced her. She started working part-time as a receptionist at Ramon's Barber Shop and part-time as a hostess at Rosita's Cocina, a little Mexican restaurant the Gonzalves' opened up not long after their baby boy was born.

Herr Mueller's house, which had been heavily mortgaged so that he could free up the cash to take with him, was auctioned off for a penance to the bankrupt town and has become the new Copper Springs library and town offices.

And an interesting development happened in the local churches. They started filling up. Emptied bank accounts made for full churches.

Ruth's death ended up being a blessing, easier to handle than her abandonment, for her death brought closure. William and Robert healed together, and this time, their wounds healed strong.

William's language skills and speech have continued to develop so clearly he is now understood by many people in Copper Springs. He is starting to read and write and can lip read so well Robert and I can no longer have a conversation without his input.

Once a month, we take him to Violet Morgan, the retired teacher in Bisbee, for tutoring, and we always stop by the Prospector's Diner to visit Wilma and check on her newest waitress, Glenda. In a fitting touch of irony, Glenda sold Mueller's ring at our repeated insistence and used the proceeds to make a down payment on a little home for her and her red-haired nephew, Tommy.

All too soon, we are going to have to seriously consider letting William attend the Southwestern School for the Deaf. But I have another idea I've been mulling over, in which William might be allowed to go to the local public school. I'm still working on a strategy to persuade Robert.

There's something else I need to tell him, first. William is going to have a new role soon, as a big brother. For a month or so now, I've been feeling suspiciously similar to how I felt after Ada's visit. I've already chosen the baby's names. If a girl, she'll be Marta. If this baby is a boy, his name will be Dietrich.

Aunt Martha has let me start to teach her to play the piano though we've been on the same beginner's piece for three months now. One thing I've learned about Aunt Martha, if I accept her where she is and give her time, she can surprise me.

A book I had once read described good and evil as equal and opposing forces: the yin and the yang. Natives in Southeast Asia wore fabric skirts made of a large black and white checked pattern, like a checkerboard, to symbolize the balance of good and evil.

I think they're wrong. I have seen, with my own eyes, how good is greater than evil, G.o.d is greater than Satan, and G.o.d's good ultimately triumphs. The scales of light weigh heavier than the scales of darkness. And as dark as the night can get, and it can get very dark, indeed, the sun will rise and expose the day.

Reading Guide for Copper Star.

What were Louisa's redeeming qualities? What was the least likeable aspect of her personality? In what ways did we see Louisa's character change? In what ways did her character remain constant? Have you had a "Louisa" in your life?

What did you think, at first, about William? What compelled William to play tricks on Herr Mueller? What was he trying to prove?

How was the attachment that William and Louisa felt for each other, from the very first, believable? What did they contribute to each other?

Let's talk about Robert. Louisa described him as "a man typical of his generation: He guarded his emotions and kept his opinions to himself, veiled by a gentleman's exterior." Do you think Robert's att.i.tude was typical for that time period? Is there any merit to being that kind of person?

What kind of a minister do you think Robert was? Did you admire his fort.i.tude or did it frustrate you? Was it right or wrong for him to go into the ministry, knowing he didn't feel called to it?

The Gordon household was an orderly home. "Even Aunt Martha's hair was pinned neatly into place, just like her emotions." Louisa arrived and turned the household topsy-turvy. She liked to face things head-on, whereas Robert and Aunt Martha kept their feelings private. How does this relate to your life? Whom are you more like?

How did you feel when Aunt Martha said she didn't want a choir robe made by a German or a Jew? Why did she seem so reluctant to accept Louisa? What did you think of the way that Louisa handled the choir robes?

Louisa and Aunt Martha had a love-hate relationship. When did it shift to a bond between them? What caused the change? Have you ever had a relationship that changed from one of antagonism to one of loyalty? Was the change permanent?

Playing the piano helped Louisa escape into a world without troubles. What helps you to escape your world?

Why is the t.i.tle, Copper Star, a metaphor suitable for the book?

How did you feel when you learned that there were hostage exchange camps within the United States? Do you think it was right or wrong? Did your feelings change after knowing Louisa could have been a hostage exchange?

What compelled Louisa to want to return to Germany? Was it an appropriate motivation? What do you feel your primary motivation is in life? Have you ever felt "not good" enough?

Faith in G.o.d is clearly a significant part of Louisa's life. What role does prayer play in her life?