“Yeah, so?”
“I suspect Reifstack works them boys into the ground and barely makes a living himself. The boys don’t go to school so they can help. They rarely show up in town. But when they do, there’s almost always trouble.”
“How you know so much about everybody?”
“Folks lingering in the shop gotta talk about something. And I’ve talked with Abner a few times when something on the farm needs fixing.” Jed eyed Griffin. “Be careful who you judge until you know what they’ve gone through.”
“Don’t take to preaching to me about a hard life.”
“I can only guess. You haven’t said much.”
“Like you’re a big talker.” Griffin paused before he spoke again. “But I don’t make it a habit to feel sorry for people. And don’t want that done for me.”
“It’s not about feeling sorry; it’s about understanding.” Jed slowed the wagon down to cross a stream.
“I ain’t got a problem with how poor those boys are, or what happened to their ma and pappy. I had a problem with what they did to Thomas and Josiah.”
For someone who seemed resentful toward the younger boys, Griffin had become very watchful over them. Jed prayed that protective spirit would be channeled into good use.
They didn’t speak for a while.
Finally, Jed spoke what was on his heart. “You think Thomas is doing all right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he acts strange sometimes, like he thinks I’m not coming back. And he gets worried whenever I leave.”
“Well, wouldn’t you feel that way if your mother just set you up to be left?”
“Is that what happened?”
“Those train people didn’t tell you that?”
“The man said he didn’t know much about either of the boys’ histories.”
“It could be just a rumor. But the kids on the train talked about how Thomas was left in the marketplace.”
“Marketplace?”
“Yep. New York is very different from here. Lotsa people everywhere.” He gestured with his hands. “They have these tables set up along the streets. Fruits, vegetables, hats, jewelry. All kinds of stuff. And Thomas claimed his mother got real sick and couldn’t get out of bed, so she sent him to this market to buy something. And when he came back, she was gone. Don’t know what happened to her. She owed the landlord some money. And when Thomas went to ask him if he knew where she was, he got really angry. Claimed she took off and stiffed him on the rent. The landlord was the one who took Thomas to the mission. Dropped him off with a sack of whatever was left at their place.”
“No talk of a father?”
Griffin shook his head.
“What about Josiah? Know anything about him?”
“Just that this lady brought him in one day. Said she found him lying under a bench. His clothes smelled of smoke, and his face was dark and dirty. We was surprised his skin was so pale when they got him cleaned up. He wouldn’t talk about it, but rumor had it that he could’a been staying in what was left of this old abandoned shack that nearly burned down.” Griffin shook his head. “Something no one besides him will probably ever know.”
God knew Josiah’s past. And whatever experiences he’d had, the Lord could heal that broken spirit.
Jed pulled the wagon up to the small weather-beaten home on the east side of Drumm Creek. It had been a while since he’d last been out that way, but the house had aged considerably. The roof looked as if it had been repaired within the last year, but the porch posts had begun to rot and a few timbers had come loose. Paul Bayte grew up in that house and lived there until his death. His father had a place nearby.
A gray-haired man in tattered overalls and a faded shirt hoed the garden. He paused when Jed got out of the wagon. An old lady sat on the porch, a pile of green beans on the bench next to her. Gaze on Jed, she snapped a bean, dropped it into a bucket, and reached for another.
“You lost?” the woman called.
“No,” Jed tugged on the brim of his hat. “My name’s Jedidiah Green. I’m looking for Irene Bayte.”
“What you want with her?”
Jed held up the box. “Have a package to deliver.”
“Package?” The woman narrowed her eyes. “From whom?”
“Since when does a blacksmith deliver mail?” The man from the garden stood behind Jed, his hoe in one hand and a mean scowl plastered on his face. “I recognize you from Sheldon.”
Jed stepped down from the wagon and extended his hand. “Yes, sir. That’s me.” He gestured toward Griffin. “My apprentice is here with me. I’m doing this as a favor to a friend.”
“Irene’s our daughter. This is our home. She moved in a few months ago. Just trying to help her out.”
“I understand.”
The woman walked toward the end of the porch. “She’s inside with the young’uns.” She crossed her arms and then looked at her husband. “Are you sure he’s not from the bank?”
“No, Jed’s all right. He welded a prong for my pitchfork. Saved me from bartering for a new one. I remember his build.”
“Well, maybe the bank sent him here,” the woman continued.
Jed lifted one hand. “I’m not from the bank. And I don’t mean any harm. Hoping to give this gift to your daughter, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Gift?”
The front door opened and banged shut. A thin young woman, barefoot, with gaunt cheeks and long, stringy hair, held a baby swaddled in a shabby blanket. A girl, about the age of two, sucked her thumb while she clung to her mother’s side. The young woman’s eyes looked tired, as if they hadn’t seen a good night’s sleep in a long while. Her gaze was wary as she stared toward Jed and the wagon. “Whatcha all want?”
Jed held out the box. “Someone asked me to give this to you.”
She eyed Jed suspiciously. “Who?”
“The person asked me not to say.”
“Well, what’s in it?”
“To be honest, I didn’t ask.”
The three on the porch glanced at each other and then back at him.
Irene sat in a chair. “Well, I don’t know anybody who’d give me anything.”
Jed stepped forward.
The little girl moved around her mother’s back. The baby started to cry, and Irene placed the baby on her shoulder and patted its back.
“I think you should take this.” Jed extended the package toward Irene, but her mother took it from him. “I’ll give you my word that this person’s intentions are sincere.”
“Perhaps you’d better stay while she opens it. And this better not be some banker’s trick.”
Irene’s mother took the baby and handed her the box. The little girl pulled on her mother’s arm as Irene tore the paper. Moisture formed in Irene’s eyes as she looked into the box. “Oh, my.” One hand gently touched her chest.
Irene’s mother leaned in. “Well, what is it?”
Irene lifted the contents from the box. A tear streamed from each eye. Her lips trembled and then she smiled.
Her father leaned the hoe against the rail and stepped onto the porch. “Who’d send you a dress?”
Irene pressed the fabric to her chest. “This is what Paul wanted me to have.”
Her mother’s cheeks turned slightly pink. She placed her hand on her daughter’s wrist.
“He let me pick out some material to have the lady tailor in Sheldon make me a Sunday dress.” She wiped her eyes dry, took her daughter from her mother, and lifted the baby onto her lap. “I always wanted me a nice dress to wear to church. He told me he’d do his best to see that I get a new one each season when the crop came in.”
A rooster crowed in the background and broke the quiet, but the stillness remained. Nobody shifted their weight, as if movement might interrupt the flow of beauty found in sincere, humble appreciation.
Jed shoved his hands into his front pockets. He didn’t know which he admired more—Irene for her thankfulness, or Miss Cantr
ell for her generosity.
Griffin jumped down and sauntered toward the old man. He lifted the man’s wrist and then dropped something into his palm. “Think I could take some of those green beans off your hands?”
The man looked down at the coin. “How much you needin’?”
“Whatever you think that’s good for.”
The boy had a well-hidden generous streak. Jed grinned to himself.
Irene’s father loaded a couple bushels of green beans and an armful of sweet potatoes in the back of the wagon.
The return trip was quiet.
Griffin seemed lost in thought as he gazed at the horizon.
Jed was equally transfixed as he tried to envision the look on Miss Cantrell’s face when he told her how happy she’d made that young widow.
12
Grace walked home from school enjoying the crisp autumn air.
A wheelbarrel mounded with corn sat in front of Edith’s house. Grace picked up an ear and pulled back the husk. Firm yellow kernels.
“What’ll we do with that big pile?”
“I could make a meal out of nothing but fresh corn, but this is quite a load you have here.” Grace responded.
“Why Erastus thought you and I would ever need that much I have no idea.”
“Erastus?” Grace’s smile diminished. Please don’t let it be…
“Littleberry is his name. Owns a farm a ways out of town.”
“Yes, his niece Minnie is in my class.” Her heart sank.
“Well, he stayed here for about an hour and chatted with me on the porch. I thought you’d be home by now.”
Grace grabbed four ears of corn. “I wash and scrub the floors on Fridays, remember?”
Edith shook her head. “I can’t keep my mind straight half the time.”
“I’ll heat some water and cook us some corn with dinner.”
“Why don’t you have a seat and sit for a spell?”
“I’m afraid that I won’t get up.” Grace began to remove the husks. “Think I should take an armload of these to school each day and give them to the children to take home?”
“Might as well. Raccoons will get to them if we don’t bring them inside.”
“I’ll bring whatever I can in the house and pile the rest in the shed. Hopefully the raccoons won’t find them in there.”
A grin snuck across Edith’s face. “I’m sure if we run out, Erastus will bring more.”
“That doesn’t need to be done.” Grace narrowed her eyes at the witty old woman.
“Well, he said he’d bring us out some green beans the next time he makes a trip into town.”
“Too bad a bookseller doesn’t live in Sheldon. Maybe I’d have the same luck getting some new books for the classroom.”
“I kind of like all this attention. Didn’t realize my life was so dull until you came along.”
“I’m glad you’re amused, but there’s no need in you encouraging Erastus Littleberry, Edith.”
“Why not? Hardly ever had any visitors. Now I’m gettin’ all kinds of surprises.” Edith’s eyes opened wide. “And that reminds me. Hail Talbert has been driving by almost every late afternoon in his carriage. Slows down as he nears the house and waves at me.”
“Well, tell him to keep on waving. I’m not allowed to court.”
“No, not while you’re teaching, but that won’t be the case come next May.”
“Well, I wouldn’t, Edith. It’s not me to be married. Better off fending for myself than relying upon a man.”
“You might change your mind someday. Looks like you could have two possible suitors.”
Grace opened the front door, her arms loaded with the fresh, husked corn.
“Grace?” Edith’s voice softened, and Grace looked back at her. “If a business owner like Hail Talbert and a farmer like Erastus Littleberry don’t interest you, then who does?”
A name flashed in Grace’s mind, and her heart fluttered. She shook it off. “I don’t need a man. I’ll find a teaching job elsewhere. Perhaps with a larger school. My students will be all I need.”
Edith just smiled.
Grace let the door close. She placed the corn on the work table. The love of her favorite vegetable had just diminished significantly.
~*~
Jed rubbed the back of his neck and felt the sweat and grit under his fingers.
“Are we getting close to a break?” Griffin rubbed his stomach. “I’m starving.”
“Go on ahead back home and get something in you. I’m gonna finish what I started here.”
Instead of unlatching the gate, Griffin lobbed his legs over to one side of the railing. His boots landed in the soft dirt.
Two figures approached the entrance. Hortense Beauregard and Hail Talbert stood on the threshold.
The old woman’s gaze bored into Griffin.
Mr. Talbert remained behind her, an amused grin on his face.
Griffin moved toward the house, but then he paused.
“Go on ahead.” Jed nodded to him. “Rest a spell.”
Hortense’s condescending glare fixed on Griffin.
The boy walked past them, his head high and his eyes sharp.
Jed stirred the coals, jabbing with the poker.
“Mr. Green.” Hortense entered as she spoke. She hadn’t gone more than two steps when she looked down at her polished, black, laced-up boots.
Jed pulled the poker from the fire and placed it on the edge of the forge. He gave it a few quick bangs, then set it aside.
Apparently, intimidation by close proximity was not as important as keeping the dust off Hortense’s fancy shoes. “I will make my sentiments known quickly as I know you are a busy man.”
How generous of you.
“I’m concerned about the relationship you have with the schoolmistress, Miss Cantrell. As I have been clearly made aware because she resides with my sister, your…the three boys who have come to stay with you…they have frequented the house.”
Jed blinked.
“Schoolteachers, Mr. Green, must follow a list of guidelines. And as you know one of them is not to be courted—”
“I’m not courting her.” The edginess in his voice was pronounced.
“Nor can that happen in the future as long as she is employed as such. I have reason to believe that mis-goings on may have occurred. And word in town has circulated as such.”
“I’ve only heard things to the contrary.”
“And how would you know, Mr. Green? You rarely leave your home or shop and speak no more than two words to a single soul at any church service I’ve ever been to.”
Jed rubbed his chin with his right hand.
“It is my belief that Miss Cantrell is not mature and sophisticated enough to do the job assigned. And perhaps her being here is not entirely her fault. She is young, and the poor girl probably has no idea what she is doing.”
Hail Talbert turned toward her with a sharpness, as if he would interrupt her.
“Nevertheless,”—Mrs. Beauregard looked down and shook her head—“she is what Sheldon has for now. So until Mr. Hennessy returns, or until the fall term, my eye will be on her. Like a hawk.”
“I have done nothing wrong, Mrs. Beauregard, and I assure you Miss Cantrell has not, as well.”
Hail Talbert placed his hands on his vest and gave Jed an arrogant look, his tongue running under his top lip. “I believe Mrs. Beauregard just wants to make sure that impropriety does not take place. It would be a shame to have such rumors floating around to damage an innocent young woman’s reputation. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be the cause of that, now would you?”
Footsteps stirred the gravel outside. Griffin crunched on an apple as he entered. He lightly underhanded Jed another, which Jed caught easily with one hand. Griffin lobbed over the railing again, apple in his teeth.
Mrs. Beauregard seemed disgusted.
Mr. Talbert haughtily concealed a smirk.
“You all get what you came for?” Griffin asked
loudly. He took another large bite of the apple.
Mrs. Beauregard spoke, but her lips barely moved. “I believe we did. Thank you, sir.”
“Sir? You don’t need to call me that, ma’am.” Griffin crunched as he spoke. “I’m an orphan.”
Mr. Talbert’s eyes sharpened toward Griffin.
Mrs. Beauregard’s chest broadened.
“Oh, but I bet you knew that already, didn’t ya?” Griffin said with a wink.
Hail Talbert placed his hand on the center of Mrs. Beauregard’s back.
“We are done here,” she replied coldly.
Both of them walked toward the door.
“Hey, you be sure to come back now,” Griffin spoke with more enthusiasm than was called for. “Anything we can do to help, you just tell us.”
Jed coiled his fingers around the apple and imagined chucking the fruit at Griffin’s temple.
Griffin opened his arms. “What?” He pointed toward the door as he chewed. “Got the strange feeling those people don’t like me much.”
Jed went back to work. Griffin worked beside him just the way Jed liked. Quiet, no talking. They made progress over the next hour with only a few interruptions from townsfolk doing business. If only every day could be like this.
Wails drifted through the opened shop doors.
Griffin’s gaze met Jed’s.
Jed dropped the half-done chain link on the forge.
Griffin went over the rail and sprinted toward the dirt road.
Josiah was crying. Thick tears streamed down Thomas’s red cheeks, too. His arm was wrapped around Josiah’s shoulder while his other hand covered Josiah’s nose. Blood trickled from underneath Josiah’s hands.
Griffin made it to the boys first and fell on his knees in front of them.
Thomas’s lip had been cut and blood seeped down his chin. One cheek had already started to swell.
“Let me see. Move your hand.” Jed knelt and placed his hand over Thomas’s fingers.
Thomas complied, still sobbing.
Jed’s heart hardened.
Josiah’s sweet face was streaked with blood that dripped from his nostrils and mouth.
Grace like a Whisper Page 10
