A Gathering of Memories
Page 1
LORI WICK
A
GATHERING OF
MEMORIES
HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
All Scripture quotations in this book are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Except for certain well-established place names, all names of persons and places mentioned in this novel are fictional.
Music and lyrics for “Song for the Other Mary” by Timothy Barsness and Lori Wick. Used by permission.
Cover by Terry Dugan Design, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Cover images © David Norton/Alamy Images; Robert Harding World Imagery/Alamy Images
A GATHERING OF MEMORIES
Copyright © 1991 by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Wick, Lori.
A gathering of memories / Lori Wick.
Sequel to: The long road home.
ISBN 0-7369-1536-2
I. Title. II. Series.
PS3573.I237G37 1991
813'.54—dc20
91-13604
CIP
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America
05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 /BC-KB/ 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This book is dedicated
to my loved ones, both near and far, whom
I would never have known
were it not for the system of adoption.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Epilogue
About the Author
Other books by the Author
CAMERON FAMILY TREE — 1894
Foreword
A June sun was setting over the grass-covered bluffs that curved around the south side of Baxter, Wisconsin. At the edge of that small town perched a rundown shack that took on an orange glow in the strange evening light.
To the casual observer the shack appeared empty, with no movement or lamps lit in the continuing dusk. But the shack was inhabited, if not lively.
If a visitor were to pass beneath the low door and into the first of two rooms, he would encounter a bed against one wall, low, and not very wide, but made up neatly with no sign of anyone sitting or lying there recently. A large stove, every inch of it black, dominated one wall and made a tight squeeze for anyone attempting to pass the small wooden table with its assortment of mismatched chairs.
A visitor would instantly see that the room was empty of life, and in order to find anyone, would have to walk through this bedraggled little room to the equally small bedroom, where a lamp burned so dimly it did not show from without.
In the bedroom, from a cot, four pair of solemn eyes watched the bed in the corner where a form lay motionless. The owners of those eyes had been in that position for most of the day. The bed’s occupant, the center of attention, had been breathing loudly—a raspy sound that could be heard through the house. But nothing emanated from that corner now.
No one spoke, but all eyes shifted as another child, the oldest, rose from her kneeling position beside the bed. They watched, one too young to comprehend, as she lifted the blanket to cover the face of their dead mother.
Again the oldest took the initiative. Without a word the children were ushered out to what was referred to as the kitchen, where they took chairs at the table.
“What’s wrong with Mama?”
The question came from the youngest, and even though she received no answer, she was silent as conversation began around the table.
Within a few minutes everyone had been assigned a job. The oldest worked near the youngest with supper preparations, making an attempt to explain about their mother. Another child set the table and still another hauled water, while the oldest boy headed into town for the preacher.
The preacher wasn’t really someone they knew or had a reason to trust, but no one could think of anyone else who would care to come. For that matter they weren’t sure he would, but it was worth a try.
The oldest boy was back at the house before the preacher arrived and they were all at the table when his carriage was heard in the yard. Eyes met in mutual uncertainty before anyone rose to let the man enter. For the first time in the lives of these five children, they wished their father were home.
A
GATHERING OF
MEMORIES
1
Baxter, Wisconsin
Summer 1894
“Sweetheart. Are you nearly ready? We’re going to be late for church.” Silas spoke to his wife as he entered their bedroom.
Amy, hairpins in her mouth, did not answer. Silas watched her face in the mirror for a moment before going on in a gentle voice. “It would be better for both of us if you tell me before church what you’re upset about.”
Amy made a slight pause in her preparations but then rushed on, hairpins nearly flying, without answering.
Minutes later they were in the buggy, headed for church. “I thought you said we were going to be late.” This time it was Silas who did not respond.
“Silas, why are you driving so slowly?”
Silas answered, his voice a caress. “I’m driving slow hoping that my wife will tell me what is bothering her before we get to the church.”
He heard her sigh deeply and waited, hoping she would at last confide in him.
“I’m not pregnant.” She admitted quietly.
Silas brought the team to a complete halt in the middle of the road and turned on the seat to look at her, a look she wouldn’t return. He watched her profile for a moment, having known that this month was going to be worse because they’d taken care of their nephew and niece, Joshua and Kate, two weeks ago, while Luke and Christine took a short trip.
“You must be sick to death of me telling you I’m not pregnant,” Amy spoke before Silas could say anything. Quietly she added, “Probably sick to death of me, too.”
He leaned forward and put his face so close to her own she had no choice but to look at him. “You know better, Amy. There is nothing that can change my love for you.”
Appearing totally unconvinced, she was shocked with Silas’ next words. “Did you ever think that I might be the reason that we’ve been married over five years and you’ve never been pregnant?”
“What?”
“I’m serious. Did you ever think that there might be something in me, in my body, and the way I’m put together that’s keeping us from having children?”
“No, that’s ridiculous.”
“Why is it ridiculous?”
“I don’t know. I’ve just never heard of such a thing.”
“And that makes it ridiculous?” They sat in silence for a time, both praying.
“Amy.”
“Silas.” They spoke in unison and then shared a small laugh. “You go first,” Silas said.
“I was praying just now and thinking about what you said, and I don’t think it really matters—the whys and who’s, that is. It might be that there is something in one or both of us that keeps us from conceiving. Either way, it’s God’s way, and I’m going to have to accept that. If it were God’s will that I be pregnant, I would be.
“I’m afraid I don’t remember that as often as I need to, and I’m sorry if I made you feel inadequate in any way. If God has children for us, He will give them to us in His time.”
Silas pulled her into his arms and held her close.
“I love you, Si.”
“I love you, too, and I was thinking the exact same thoughts. I’ve always believed that you’re my gift from God, and nothing on this earth is more important than you are.”
They kissed then. Silas’ embrace tightened a moment before Amy suddenly pushed from his arms, her hands on his chest to hold him at bay.
“Silas,” she reprimanded him, “I just put those pins in my hair, and we are already late for church.”
He didn’t take his eyes from her as she smoothed her hair, and his look told her they would finish this conversation later. Amy smiled with loving confidence as he urged the team toward town.
They were indeed very late for church. Slipping soundlessly into a rear pew, they listened to a sermon that was well underway.
Pastor Nolan’s text was on love for each other and Amy thought how special it was to be in her Uncle Chad’s church. He was a man who loved God with all of his heart and whose sermons never failed to encourage her even when she was faced with her sin.
They realized just how late they were, when ten minutes after they sat down, Pastor Nolan brought the sermon to a close with serious words.
“I have a special prayer request to ask of you this morning. I was called out last night to the Jackson home. Most of you know of the Jacksons; they live on the edge of town. Mrs. Jackson died yesterday, and Mr. Jackson has not been located. There are five children ranging from 5 to 18 years old and I’m worried about them. The funeral for Mrs. Jackson will be Tuesday morning, and well, please be remembering this family in your prayers.”
The congregation stood for the closing hymn and prayer, but Amy heard none of the song. Her uncle had just said “Amen” when Amy spoke.
“Silas, I want those children.”
“What did you say?” He bent over her, listening closely as she spoke in almost a whisper.
“I said, I want those children.”
Silas stared at her. His mind raced as he remembered everything he’d ever heard about the Jackson children—“a very unruly bunch” was the nicest, he was sure. No, that was not quite right. The two oldest, both girls, were said to be fairly well-behaved. But the three youngest, two boys and another girl, he thought, were as wild as they came. But he somehow knew that even if it were true, it wouldn’t matter to her. Another tact was needed here.
“Amy, sweetheart, they have a father.”
“But Uncle Chad said he isn’t here right now, and until he can be found I want those children to come and live with us.”
Silas opened his mouth and then closed it. She stared up at him, entreaty filling her wide blue eyes, making Silas feel helpless.
“Sweetheart,” he tried again. “You probably haven’t heard about this family. I don’t really know them myself, but you see they have a reputation for being unmanageable.” Silas put it as delicately as possible, but exactly as he expected, a stubborn look crossed his wife’s face.
“They’re children, Silas, one only five years old. And I don’t care if they have no manners whatsoever. They need someone to take care of them, and we have no reason that I can think of not to open our home to those children.”
Again Silas stared at her. “We’ll talk to your uncle,” Silas spoke quietly.
Amy’s answer was equally quiet, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thank you, Silas.”
2
Silas and Amy were already planning to have lunch with Chad and April Nolan so Silas did not have long to wait to talk with Amy’s uncle. April Nolan was a wonderful cook and the meal of roast pork, baked potatoes, turnip greens, fresh bread, and coffee was just beginning when Silas brought up the subject.
His wife’s uncle listened in silence as the entire story came out. When Silas was done he had a question for Silas alone.
“Every time you spoke, Silas, you said ‘Amy wants.’ What do you want? It’s your home, too. Do you have misgivings you’re not voicing?”
“Definitely. You probably wouldn’t believe how many.”
“Try me.” The simple words from Chad were enough to break the dam around Silas’ unsure heart.
“First of all, I’ve heard that the three youngest Jacksons are as wild as they come.” Silas held one hand in the air and counted his fingers as he spoke.
“Secondly, the oldest is not that much younger than my wife, and has, I’m sure, a mind of her own. If I recall, Mrs. Jackson never enjoyed good health. I imagine that oldest girl runs everything and probably has for a long, long time. I’m also horrified at the thought that they’ll move into our hearts as well as our home. Then to have Mr. Jackson return, take them all away and break Amy’s heart, not to mention my own…
“And the thing that has me most bothered is, is it really our business? I mean, we can’t just go over there and say ‘you’re coming with us’ and expect them to just cheerfully follow a couple of near-strangers across town!”
“Actually, you can.” Pastor Nolan spoke quietly. “That is, with everyone but Mandy, since she’s an adult. I spoke with Rufus last night and he told me, as sheriff, that it’s within his legal rights to place the four younger ones in foster care. He was quite upset because he knows no one will take even one of them, let alone four. He said it would probably be easier, if not best all around, to leave them with their sister since she is old enough to take care of them.”
Silas let the words sink in and then looked to his wife. She spoke to him in quiet submission. “Si, I do want those children, but not if you’re against it. Uncle Chad is right. It isn’t just my home; it’s our home. Until you spoke all I could picture were summer nights in the yard, popping corn over the fire, sending the children off to school, and well, all of those homey things a family does.
“But you’re right. The whole thing could be disastrous, and if your answer is no, I understand. It doesn’t mean I couldn’t go visit and take them something and try to help in that way.”
“But you still want them—I mean, your first choice is to have them come live with us?”
“Yes.” The word was spoken without hesitation.
Silas looked at his wife for a long time. She would be wonderful for those children, and he knew it. Oh, there would be adjustments, even if their time together was brief, but if Amy touched their lives for only two days it would be with warmth and caring.
“Where is Mr. Jackson?” Silas posed the question to Chad but never took his eyes from Amy.
“He hasn’t been here for some time. Rufus planned to start checking a
round today.”
“You haven’t said anything, April. What are your thoughts?” The question came from Pastor Nolan to his wife. All eyes swung to the serene woman at the end of the table who answered unselfconsciously and without haste.
“I always look for reasons for things the Lord brings into my world, and this time was no different. But even though I accepted Chad’s news last night when he came home, I couldn’t think of one good reason for Mrs. Jackson to die. And I’m not saying now that I’m glad she did. But the fact is she is gone and her children are left here alone; but this! This…possible plan to take those children in, gives me hope for them. Silas and Amy would be wonderful for them, and I can’t help but pray that it works out and that all of us—you and I, Chad, Grandma Em, all the Camerons and MacDonalds—each of us, can play a part in their lives that otherwise would have been impossible.”
Silas looked at his pastor’s wife. Her words made him understand, for the first time, that Amy wasn’t the only one involved. His whole family would be drawn in, but mostly him. Since they would live beneath his roof, he would automatically be a part of their lives too, He could either reach out to them in love, or tolerantly abide them in his house just to give Amy her wish.
The decision was made.
“Amy?” Silas spoke. “Is today too soon?”
“No Silas, today is fine. I baked bread yesterday, and all the beds upstairs are freshly made.”
Amy reached for her husband’s hand, both wondering as she did, what the next few hours would bring.
3
Silas and Chad rode in silence toward the Jackson home. They had been to see the sheriff, and he had been relieved to hear the situation was well in hand. Rufus had said to come for him if any need arose.