The preacher leaned forward. “Makes it hard to survive, doesn’t it?”
“Sure does. And some men don’t just get their hours cut, they lose their jobs. It’s the same in all the mines around here. So when a miner loses his job, he goes looking at other mining towns. The miners in Finch don’t want any outsiders coming in and maybe agreeing to work for lower wages than we’re already making.”
After taking a dose of headache powders, Hope sat down beside her father and lightly massaged her temple. Luke met her gaze, and she forced a feeble smile. There was no doubt she needed to rest, but where? If he stayed here visiting with her father, she couldn’t possibly lie down. Luke gestured toward the doorway leading into the chapel portion of the railroad car. “Maybe your father and I should go in there to finish our talk so you can rest.”
She immediately dropped her hand to her lap. “I’m fine. I don’t need to rest. The headache powders will soon ease my headache and I’ll be fit as a fiddle.”
“I’ve discovered that if I rest after taking medicine, it works much more quickly.” Luke leaned forward and rested his arms across his thighs. “I’m sure you want to be at your very best when you meet with the children and their parents for the first time this evening.”
His heart warmed when she offered him a sweet smile and nod of her head. “Perhaps you’re right. I wouldn’t want anything to distract me this evening.” Hope turned to her father. “If you don’t mind moving into the chapel, Papa, maybe I should lie down for a half hour or so.”
Her father bounded to his feet and looked at Luke. “Come along, young man. We’ll finish our conversation in here.” The two of them stepped into the compact chapel, then closed the door between the living quarters and the chapel. He settled beside Luke on one of the hard wooden pews. “You were telling me that the miners might think I’m here looking for work, but I can’t imagine anyone would worry about that for long. I’ve never set foot in a mine, and a short conversation with me will confirm my lack of knowledge. I think folks will soon realize the only thing I want to do is spread God’s message of hope and love.”
Luke nodded. “Maybe, but we’ve had revenuers come into these parts pretending to be everything from bankers to lawyers to farmers. Just ’cause you’re riding around in this chapel car and preaching from the Good Book doesn’t mean you can’t be a revenuer, too. If you stay here in Finch, it won’t take long before you discover some of the men make moonshine back in the hills. Some make it for themselves or their neighbors, while others sell it to make money to help feed their families.”
The preacher tipped his head to the side, his brow furrowed. “I didn’t know West Virginia had passed a prohibition law.”
“It’s not the whole state yet, but that’s what the lawmakers are hoping for real soon. Right now, it’s decided by the counties, and more are dry than wet. We’re one of the dry ones, so making moonshine is illegal. So is selling it. A few of the men have been arrested, and two revenuers were shot just last week. Although it’s a dangerous business, the men won’t stop. They need the money. With less work in the mines, most have decided they don’t have a choice.”
“Then I guess I better not act interested in the moonshine business.” The preacher grinned.
Luke frowned. The preacher didn’t seem to grasp the risk. If he crossed the wrong people at the wrong time, he could be in danger, and so could his daughter. The preacher needed to take this matter of bootlegging seriously. “Not asking about moonshine is a good start, Preacher, but you and your daughter shouldn’t wander off in the woods by yourselves or show up to visit folks unexpectedly. The men might think such visits or walks in the woods are a way of spying on them. You’ll win over the women and children first. The men will be slower to believe you’re who you say you are.” Luke hesitated a moment. “Don’t ever let on you know anything about the moonshine business—not even to your daughter. Just tell her there’s dangerous animals in the woods and it’s not safe. A slipup of any sort could mean we’d find ourselves on the wrong end of a shotgun.” He grinned. “And womenfolk sometimes get to chattering and share things they oughtn’t. I learnt that the hard way with my sister.”
“Well, it sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me.” Reverend Irvine leaned back in his chair. “Anything else I should know?”
Luke ran his fingers through his thick hair. “’Fraid so. You’re likely gonna find that the mine owners won’t be too happy to have you around, either. At least not until they’re convinced you’re not from the UMWA.”
“What’s the UMWA?”
Luke wasn’t certain the preacher was being forthright. This was a man who had lived in one of the largest coal-mining areas in the state of Pennsylvania. “You lived in a coal-mining city, but you don’t know about the United Mine Workers Association? That’s hard to believe.”
“Hope lived in Pittsburgh with her aunt, but my visits there were brief. I’ve been preaching in other states, moving around a lot. I never lived in the Pittsburgh area and never visited long enough to become familiar with anything other than matters that involved my daughter.”
While Luke had no problem accepting the preacher’s explanation, Mr. Finch and the other men at the main offices of Finch Mining and Company wouldn’t believe a word of it. Luke imagined them drinking coffee and poking holes in the story while they sat in the windowed offices overlooking the mining operation. In the end, they’d be convinced the preacher was a union man who had come here to stir up the miners and convince them the path to higher wages and better working conditions was a strike.
The preacher withdrew a small Bible from his breast pocket and patted the cover. “Sounds as though I’m going to need the Lord’s protection since I’m supposed to remain in Finch until I receive another assignment from the association headquarters.”
“I don’t mean to discourage you. I hope you’ll stay here a long time, but you need to understand that folks around these parts are a little different from some—more guarded and slower to accept change.” Clutching several of the tracts, Luke pushed to his feet. “I’ll pass these out to the folks who live near my family. Like I said, I’m sure the young’uns and their mamas will come. Not so sure about the menfolk, but I’ll do my best.”
The preacher stood and extended his hand. “Thank you, Luke. Maybe their curiosity will get the best of them if you mention they’ll get to come inside and see the chapel car.”
Luke hiked a shoulder. “Never can tell.” He shook the preacher’s hand, made his way to the rear of the car, and descended the platform steps.
When he neared the depot, Luke glanced over his shoulder. He’d wanted to catch a final glimpse of Hope, but she was nowhere in sight. Most likely she was still resting. He wasn’t certain what it was about her that had become so compelling to him. She was quite pretty, but it was something beyond her beauty that attracted him. Maybe her sense of independence. Yet it was that spirit of self-determination and freedom that worried him.
From what he’d observed thus far, she was a woman who wouldn’t be deterred, one who might disregard warnings. Her encounter with the ruffians back in Brookfield only reinforced his belief that she would bear watching. If she happened upon a moonshine still while wandering around the hills, she could find herself in a terrible situation. He doubted she’d believe moonshiners shot first and asked questions later.
Luke stood outside the depot, his eyes fixed on the chapel car. Whether she liked it or not, Miss Irvine was going to need a protector.
For the first time in months, he was glad that his hours at the mine had been cut.
CHAPTER
6
Hope stared into the small hand mirror that had once belonged to her mother, then turned toward the afternoon sunlight shimmering through the train window. Luke had been partially correct. Although she didn’t have a black eye, there was a distinct bruise on her temple. She was thankful, though, that the headache powders had given her some relief. She yanked the pins from her u
nruly curls and pulled her hair forward to hide the purplish mark. The style wasn’t particularly becoming, but if all went well, she’d avoid any embarrassing questions.
Wearing a white lawn blouse and a tailored navy skirt accented at the hem with two bands of gray piping, Hope stood beside her father to greet each person who stepped onto the chapel car platform.
Luke and his family were among the first to arrive. He beamed at her as he introduced each of them. His mother, a weary-looking widow, had been escorted by her deceased husband’s brother, Luke’s Uncle Frank. Neither had a great deal to say before they hurried inside to take a seat in one of the pews, but Luke had been pleased he’d convinced his uncle to attend. Luke’s sister Nellie lingered by Hope’s side while Luke directed his two younger brothers and a little sister who looked to be four or five to the stand of trees, where Hope had spread blankets and would meet with the children.
“I think my brother has taken a liking to you.” Nellie’s hazel eyes shone with mischief. “He’d be mad as a hornet if he knew I told ya.” She giggled. “He talked long and hard to convince Ma she could do her mending another time, but he didn’t have to convince me. I wanted to come and meet you. He said you were mighty pretty. He was right.”
Hope could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. “Thank you, Nellie. You’re very pretty yourself. I hope we can become friends.”
Nellie bobbed her head. “I’d like that. I’m seventeen, so I’m thinkin’ we’re about the same age.”
“Close. I’m nineteen,” Hope said. “The next time you come to town, why don’t you stop for a visit?”
“Oh, I’d like that a lot. Luke said the living quarters in the chapel car are really something to see.” Nellie rubbed her hands together like a small child anticipating a rare treat. “And maybe you could show me how to fix my hair like yours. I really like it. Is that the latest style in the city?”
Hope swallowed hard. “Not exactly, but some of the women are wearing their hair shorter and pulled forward a bit. I’m glad you like it.”
Before she could ask any more questions about Hope’s hair, another family scrambled to the platform. Her father remained at her side until the last of the attendees arrived. There hadn’t been as large a turnout as they’d hoped, but the car was two-thirds full of adults and there were at least thirty children waiting outside.
Hope followed her father down the narrow aisle to the slightly raised platform at the front of the chapel and took her place at the organ. Her heart fluttered when she looked out at the crowd and was met by Luke’s broad smile. Nellie sat beside him with her hands folded atop her faded brown-checkered skirt.
Her father cleared his throat as Hope perched her fingers over the organ keys. She stifled a giggle when Nellie jabbed her brother in the ribs. It appeared Nellie was eager to reveal what she’d earlier confided to Hope was true: Luke had taken a liking to her. It also appeared she didn’t care if she embarrassed Luke in the process. Hope grinned when Luke pinned his sister with a hard glare.
After leading the group in singing several hymns, Hope disappeared through their living quarters, descended the steps leading from the rear exit, and joined the children. The group was large, but they were all wide-eyed and eager to learn the hand motions to several songs she taught them. With the exception of a few of the youngest children and one or two older boys, they remained attentive as Hope told them of Moses being placed in a basket and floated in the Nile River where he was found by Pharaoh’s sister. One of the older boys said he’d like to try that with his baby sister, who continually cried all night. His remark had caused raucous laughter and also required some lengthy enlightenment from Hope before she continued with the story of Daniel in the lions’ den.
Knowing her father would soon conclude his preaching, she pulled out a list of questions. She hoped the children would recall a bit of what she’d taught them. Like popcorn exploding over a hot fire, a plethora of small hands shot into the air. Their enthusiasm was contagious. “I know, I know!” several shouted while waving in her direction. With each new question, they bounced up and down and flapped their arms. The child selected to answer would beam with pleasure when Hope proclaimed the response correct.
She caught sight of the adults descending the steps of the chapel car, quickly reached into her crate of supplies, and removed a paper sack. “You’ve all been so good that I have a treat for you.” She instructed the children to walk past her in a single line and repeated the same comment to each child as she placed a piece of hard candy in each small palm. “Jesus loves you, and so do I. Please bring your friends tomorrow night so they can learn about Jesus.”
A boy wearing a ripped pair of overalls and worn plaid shirt called out, “Do we get candy every night?”
Hope smiled and nodded as she continued to repeat the invitation, dropping sweets into their small hands. But when a large palm suddenly appeared, she stopped short and looked up. “Luke!” She smiled at him. “Sorry, no candy for the adults.”
“But I was very good and listened to every word. Would you like me to tell you about the sermon your father preached?”
She tipped her head to the side and met his twinkling green eyes. “You are most welcome to tell me, but the candy is to encourage the little ones to listen—not to satisfy the sweet tooth of adults.”
Nellie bounded to her brother’s side and grasped his arm. “You’re a smart woman, Hope. My brother shouldn’t receive a reward for his knowledge of the Bible or listening to a sermon. He already knows more passages from the Good Book than most preachers, don’t ya, Luke?”
He shook his head. “That’s not true, Nellie. I know a little, but I’m no equal to the Reverend Irvine.”
Undeterred by her brother’s stern look, Nellie perched her hands on her hips. “He don’t want to appear too proud, but he uses more than his share of coal oil reading the Bible late into the night.” She pointed her thumb in Luke’s direction. “And he’s got a fine singing voice, too.”
Hope stooped to tuck the sack of candy back into the crate. She peeked up at Luke as she stood. “That’s good to know. I may need help with the children from time to time, and now I’ll know who to call upon. They become restless waiting for me to finish the singing at the beginning of the meetings. You could lead them in a few songs.”
Nellie jabbed her brother’s arm with her index finger. “I never said he was good with young’uns. I just said he knows his Bible. I’m the one who’s good with the young’uns.”
“Is that a fact? Well, who’s taught the boys to trap and fish? And who carries the little girls down the hill on his back?” Luke looked at Hope. “Now I ask ya, does that sound like a man who isn’t good with young’uns?”
He beamed when Hope acknowledged that he’d revealed some excellent qualities. “It sounds as though both of you could help if our Sunday school expands. All of the children said they were going to bring friends.”
Nellie glanced toward the children, who by now had scattered off to find their parents. “The young’uns will do what they can, but it all depends on whether their pa will give ’em permission. Some folks ’round here don’t cotton much to strangers, and that includes preachers. That’s why the few who have come here before leave after a few weeks.”
The young woman’s comment echoed what Luke had told Hope’s father earlier in the day. Hope wasn’t pleased by the idea of living in a town where she’d need to be constantly on guard. Still, she’d find a way to gain the acceptance of the older folks. While winning over the adults might take longer than it had with the children, she was determined to succeed. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” she whispered. Long ago she’d taken that old saying to heart.
Over the weeks that followed, Luke frequently escorted Hope up the hillside to visit with his mother, as well as some of the nearby neighbors. While he was certain she expected to do the same today, he’d decided to surprise her with a change in their usual routine. During their brief times alone, he learned
enough about Hope to know he wanted to discover more about her past. Yet each time he thought he might have her to himself, someone would appear and interrupt them. This afternoon would be different. He caught sight of her crossing the street and waved when he arrived at the bottom of the hill.
She pointed to his hand as she approached. “What’s this? Are you going fishing?”
“I am. And I hope you’ll agree to join me. There’s a pond not far off where I like to try my luck with a fishing pole. I don’t catch a lot of fish, but it’s peaceful. I brought an extra pole for you.”
“You were sure I’d say yes, were you?” Mischief danced in her eyes.
“I recall you mentioned feeling discouraged by the unwelcome reception you received from some of the folks on the hill, so I thought a change was in order for today. But if you’d rather not . . .”
She reached for the fishing poles and placed her hand atop his. “Which one of these is mine?”
His gaze settled on her hand, and she retracted it as quickly as she’d taken hold. The moment she lifted her hand, he regretted his reaction. He cleared his throat and shifted the poles so she could have a better look at them. “You can have your pick.”
“I suppose I’ll take the shorter of the two.” She tapped the longer pole. “I don’t think I could handle that one.”
He bent down and picked up a large can. “You want to carry the worms?”
She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll let you do the honors, but thanks for giving me the opportunity.”
He rested the poles against his shoulder, held the can close to his chest, and crooked his free arm. “There’s no path, so you’ll need to watch so you don’t step into any chuckholes. You might want to hold on to my arm. Don’t want you to sprain an ankle.”
The Chapel Car Bride Page 6
