by Merry Farmer
“Hey Andrew.”
C.J. Wick joined him at the table, nodding at the jug with a friendly smile. Andrew forced the frown off of his face and handed C.J. the jug.
Once he had taken a long drink, C.J. handed it back and said, “It’d be nice if there were more of us today.”
Andrew blinked and looked around the construction site. He hadn’t noticed that there were half as many men working today as there had been on Saturday.
“Where is everyone?”
C.J. shrugged and took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face. C.J. was handsome in the way that women liked. He could see why Gayle had been paying so much attention to him lately. Although from the giggled snippets he’d overheard, Gayle was planning to steer Louisa in C.J.’s direction.
A flash of anger pulsed through him. He pushed it aside before he could dwell on it and tried to pay attention to what C.J. was saying.
“Some of the boys have work. Mark Jasper, Henry White. But it’s the other ones that I’d like to give a piece of my mind,” C.J. said.
Andrew blinked. “Why?”
“You know how Bishop Benade went ahead and ordained Rev. William Pendleton as a bishop after he was specifically told not to?”
A chill of warning shot down Andrew’s spine. “I heard.”
“Well rumor has it that Bishop Benade and his followers are going to resign from the Church entirely and form a new church.”
“They wouldn’t dare.”
“They would. And the Harrisons and the Knightons are thinking of resigning to join them.”
Once again, a dagger of anger stabbed through Andrew. He sighed sharply and put the water jug back on the table.
“I’m sick of this whole thing,” he muttered, marching back toward the pile of rubble near the wall where he’d been working. Rowan brought a wheelbarrow over and began loading it. “Academians, Convention, name-calling—it’s unnecessary. Resigning from the Church will hurt everyone. We should be building up, not falling apart.”
“I don’t know.” C.J. shrugged and followed him. “You have to admit that there are legitimate issues on the table. If they believe something else, shouldn’t they be allowed to go their own way?”
“And break the Church? Tear people apart?”
He bent over to lift the largest hunk of rock he could find into the wheelbarrow. The strain in his muscles did nothing to ease the growing tension in his soul. He focused on the job in front of him.
“Has your father said what he plans to do about it if people from our society follow Benade and his group?”
Andrew chucked his rock into the wheelbarrow with a grunt and stared hard at C.J. He wasn’t going to let the matter drop.
“He’ll do what’s best for the Church.”
“Which church?”
If it hadn’t been for the needling note in C.J.’s voice—as if his friend was trying to pick a fight—he would have engaged in the debate. Instead, he said, “There’s only one Church. All God’s people who follow Him and live good lives are the Church.”
C.J. grinned and brushed his hair out of his face. “Spoken like a true diplomat. If only we mere mortals remembered to see it that way. I think this split is going to come, whether we like it or not.”
With a frown, Andrew ignored the ominous comment and went back to work. Frustration lingered like an itch in the middle of his back that he couldn’t reach. He heaved another large chunk of masonry into the wheelbarrow. He loved the Church from the bottom of his heart. Yes, he knew that the current divisions were serious and pointed. He had heard the arguments on both sides—theological and personal—and could see the merits of each. Even though he knew where he stood on the issues, it still didn’t seem right to tear apart what generations of men had worked so hard for in the Lord’s name. It hurt him to see the Church in such a state of crisis and to be so helpless to do anything to mend it. Just like it hurt to see Louisa stuck in such desperate circumstances with no way to help her.
As he tossed smaller pieces of debris into the wheelbarrow, the seed of an idea settled in his mind. He straightened and stared out over the horizon of the sea. For months, the troubles in the Church had been foremost in his mind. But for the last several days Louisa had eclipsed them. Louisa. His sister’s friend. She had been like a sister to him as far back as he could remember. Yet something told him that if Wren had been in trouble, he wouldn’t feel the same gnawing, urgent frustration.
Louisa.
Taking in a deep breath, thoughts as grave as ever, he focused on his work. C.J. was now trying to talk to Rowan about the disturbances in the Church, but Rowan was as tight a clam as they came. He nodded and grunted now and then, and even though C.J. thought he was getting answers, Andrew knew better. Rowan was as solid as any of the rocks they cleared away, and twice as unmovable. Andrew could almost smile at C.J.’s attempts to glean information from him.
Once they finished cleaning up the area where they’d been working, Andrew jumped on his bicycle and headed for home. It was another hot, sunny day, and as the wind dried the sweat on his face, he smiled. The memory of Louisa’s giddy laughter as he pedaled faster and faster sang in his ears. He had been trying to tease and maybe even frighten her by pushing her further than she wanted to go, but Louisa had surprised him. She had a life in her that he had never guessed at. She had actually been interested in his stories of the sea, genuinely interested.
He coasted down the road, turning at the drive leading up to Cliff House, and pedaling up the incline to the house. His own family had long since grown bored of hearing about his adventures at sea. If he didn’t know better he would have thought that Louisa would hop on the next fishing boat and sail away with him.
He contemplated that strange possibility as he took a quick bath and changed into clean clothes. Again his thoughts swung back to the tiny house and the stalwart but sad look in Louisa’s eyes as she picked up the sewing her mother had left her. Louisa White was the strongest woman he had ever known. She had been handed a heavy load, and yet she had been carrying it all this time without complaining and without sharing it. Even though he didn’t agree with her decision not to share, he had to admire her resolve.
She was still at the forefront of his thoughts as he wandered down to the kitchen, hair still wet. Wren stood at the counter, brow knit in concentration as she measured spices and added them to the large crockery bowl in front of her. The kitchen was already filled with the mouth-watering aroma of something sweet and lemony. Andrew breathed it in as he leaned against the counter to watch his sister. She gave him a brief sideways smile before reaching for a tin of dried cranberries and continuing her work.
“Feeding an army?” he asked, shoulders relaxing at the homey sights and smells of the family kitchen and his sister.
“Getting ready for the Fourth of July,” she explained without glancing up from her work.
“It’s not for three days.”
“I can’t possibly make enough sweets for the Church to sell in town if I don’t get a jump on it. These will go in the icebox for a few days when they’re done. The icebox is not your stomach, by the way.”
Andrew chuckled and crossed his arms, watching her work. Wren had a gift. They all knew it and they all considered themselves lucky for it. Someday that luck would run out. Inevitably Wren would catch the attention of a young man, and sure as rain, all that talent in the kitchen would leave Cliff House. It was a shame his next oldest sister was the six year old Rebecca. Wren had no one to teach her skills to. Whatever man snagged his sister had better be worth the price they would all pay.
Once again, the idea that had seeded in his gut as he worked flickered through him. His grin dropped into an intense frown and he stared at one leg of their large family table.
Things that he had never considered before, thoughts that had hovered at the back of his mind as a matter of course for a long time, rolled to the front of his awareness. Maybe it had started with the idea he and Jamie had had of buy
ing their own boats, starting their own business. At the time he hadn’t thought of it as anything more than taking the next step. But now he considered that there was a difference between work and responsibility. There was a difference between growing older and becoming a man. He was changing. Everything around him was changing. And with those changes came a whole new kind of power, and new responsibility.
“What?” Wren’s clipped syllable pulled him out of his thoughts.
“What do you mean?” He blinked and forced himself to focus.
She sighed and turned to him, planting a floury hand on her aproned hip. “I measured and added the rest of the ingredients, stirred until the batter was smooth, and poured it into the pans and you didn’t say a word the whole time. You’ve been as dreamy as a butterfly since you got home from this last fishing trip. Something is obviously eating you.”
On any other day he would have made some sort of joking reply, but to his surprise he wasn’t in the mood. Instead he nodded and uncrossed his arms.
“Wren, what would you do if, I don’t know, Papa lost all his money in a stock crash and we were suddenly poor?”
Wren’s eyes flew wide at the question. “I … well … uh ….” She frowned. “What kind of a question is that?”
He shrugged. “Just a question. What would you do?”
She saw that he was serious and leaned against the counter as she considered.
“Well, I guess I would do whatever Papa and Mama needed me to do. I’d help take care of the kids, help Mama with the house. But I do all of that already.”
“Would you get a job?”
Again her brow shot up. She paused and stared blankly over his shoulder for a moment before answering, “I guess if I had to.”
“Would you tell anyone?”
“Tell anyone what?”
“That we were poor.”
Her expression twitched into a smirk. “I wouldn’t have to tell anyone. Wouldn’t it be a little obvious if we suddenly went from being well-off to being poor? People would notice.”
She turned to begin cleaning up the counter.
“What if they didn’t notice?” he persisted, the urge to spill Louisa’s secret a burning temptation. “Would you ask for help?”
Wren shrugged. “Who would I ask? I’m sure that Papa and Mama would be able to figure something out for all of us. I mean, you have your job, Rowan is going to be a minister, Malcolm and Robert are almost old enough to work. We could always hire the kids out as street urchins.”
Her joke broke the tension of his mood and he chuckled. “I’m sure Mama would love that.”
“Hmm, well, something tells me that Rebecca and Judah wouldn’t mind dressing in rags and playing in the dirt all day. They do that already.”
Andrew laughed. He pushed away from the counter and gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek before crossing the kitchen and heading out into the humid afternoon. His smile faded as he thrust his hands into his pockets and meandered down to the beach.
In a way, Wren had proved his point without knowing it. If something bad ever happened to them, they would have each other to fall back on. Louisa only had her mother and her brother, and Henry was away most of the year, at least for now. She was adrift. More than ever, the sense of wanting to do something about it gripped him. He couldn’t bear the thought of Louisa alone and struggling.
“Today’s reading is from Mark, chapter four. ‘And he began again to teach by the sea side: and there was gathered unto him a great multitude, so that he entered into a ship, and sat in the sea; and the whole multitude was by the sea on the land. And he taught them many things by parables, and said unto them in his doctrine, Hearken; Behold, there went out a sower to sow’….”
Louisa tried to keep her aching back straight as she sat between her mother and Henry on a picnic bench in the Clevelands’ barn for church. She had to force herself to pay attention to Rev. McBride’s sermon. She would rejoice when the new chapel was finished, if only because they would have pews with backs instead of borrowed benches and chairs. Her family had arrived late enough that they were relegated to sitting on the backless bench. She glanced to her mother with concern. If her back was sore then her mother’s must be in agony.
Her eyes drifted across the aisle to the pair of benches where the McBride family sat. Louisa couldn’t help but grin at the fact that her friends had left the chairs with backs to the other members of the congregation. The youngest children were wiggling up a storm. Little Rebecca and Judah sat on either side of Wren, who was trying to set a good example by paying attention, periodically placing a hand on her young siblings’ shoulders to settle them. Mrs. McBride held Hannah, the littlest, on her lap.
“And others fell on good ground, and did yield fruit that sprang up and increased; and brought forth, some thirty, some sixty, and some an hundred. And He said unto them, He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.”
Louisa’s brow rose when she spotted James Darling sitting at the end of the bench next to Andrew. How nice that Andrew’s friend would come to church, in spite of not being a member.
Andrew must have felt her watching. His eyes flickered to the side and a grin spread across his face. Her own grin widened. She snapped her eyes back to the front and gripped the edge of the bench.
More than a week of constant, frantic working was going to her head and making her as silly and squirmy as Rebecca and Judah. But it was so good to be out with people that she couldn’t resist. She stole another quick glance across the aisle. Andrew was still watching her, and when their eyes met, she had to fake a cough to hide the snorting peal of laughter that wanted to bubble up from her. Both Henry and her mother glanced at her, her mother taking a handkerchief from her purse with a grim face and handing it to her.
She didn’t dare glance in Andrew’s direction for the rest of the service. Her already light heart lifted higher as they ended with one of her favorite hymns. After the hymn they filed out of the makeshift church and into the hazy sunlight of the Clevelands’ back yard, where the congregation was assembling to socialize. A table had been set up for refreshments near the house. Her mother made her excuses and hurried on to the house to help Mrs. Cleveland set out the treats.
Louisa made her way to a patch of shade under a spreading maple tree and looked for her friends in the press of people leaving the barn. She saw Andrew first as he walked out into the sunlight with his family. Her breath caught in her throat. Why had she never noticed how handsome he was before? Dressed in his finest for church, tall with broad shoulders and tanned skin, he looked every inch the gentleman. He was explaining something to Jamie, but his blue eyes rose to meet hers, and he smiled. Her heart burst with fondness as she smiled back.
She was spared the riot of giddiness her heart wanted to put her through as Wren noticed her and waved. She waved back just as Gayle and her parents stepped out of the barn as well. Gayle skipped to Wren’s side and the two of them broke away from the rest of the exiting crowd to join her. She sent Andrew one more smile. He returned it before tilting his head to hear whatever comment Jamie was making.
“Your brother’s friend came to church,” Louisa observed, smiling at Wren, her mood better than it had been all week.
To her surprise Wren frowned. “I don’t know why he came. I thought he was Catholic.”
“Oh, come now.” Gayle nudged Wren. “He might be interested in the Church. You never know.”
“Andrew says he is,” Wren added, although she didn’t sound convinced.
“That’s wonderful,” Louisa beamed.
“And he’s devilishly handsome,” Gayle said.
Wren blushed, and her mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. Louisa burst into peals of laughter. Gayle wore a mischievous smile.
“You’re certainly in a good mood today,” Gayle commented.
“I am,” Louisa agreed.
“In a good mood and we haven’t seen you all week? Hmm. I wonder what you’ve been up to. I shall find out, you kn
ow.”
A twang of anxiety threatened to pierce Louisa’s mood. Sometimes Gayle was the nosiest person she knew. Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone?
“I’m just so happy to see you all today,” Louisa insisted, taking both of her friends’ arms. “Besides, it’s sunny and not so hot today as it’s been.”
She was not going to let misfortune ruin her good mood. She had been talking to the Lord every day, and she was increasingly certain that He was telling her everything would be all right.
“Come on. Let’s go up to the house to see if they need help with the refreshments.”
They started to walk across the lawn. Conversations were humming around them, growing louder with each second. Louisa couldn’t help but compare the noise to a flock of geese getting ready to take off. They made it almost all the way across the yard to the house before being stopped.
“Hello ladies.” C.J. stepped into their path, along with Mark Jasper. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Gayle brightened and glanced back and forth from one young man to the other. “C.J., Mark, hello. How are you?” She dropped her hand to flit delicately across the blue organza of her church dress, managing to drop her handkerchief as she did.
Louisa wasn’t sure if she wanted to gape or roll her eyes as both men stooped to pick it up. C.J. reached the handkerchief first and handed it back with a fond smile as Gayle thanked him. Louisa glanced to Wren and they both had a hard time keeping their laughter inside. It was the oldest trick in the book, but somehow Gayle always seemed to make it work.
“Your father gave a lovely sermon,” Mark complimented Wren with a respectful nod.
“It’s too bad it wasn’t better attended,” C.J. followed.
“Better attended?” Wren arched an eyebrow. At the same time, Rowan emerged from the visiting congregation and stood just behind his sister and Gayle.
C.J. noticed Rowan’s arrival and lost a bit of his smile.
“Well, there were a few families missing, of course.”
Louisa had the distinct impression that he had planned to say more, but changed his mind when he saw Rowan.
