A faraway look passed across Almeda’s face. “Yes, a good portion of what people were saying was false, Corrie,” she said softly. “But not everything. I lived for many years outside God’s plan for me, and I had much to repent of. He had many things in my character to change. Perhaps I will have the opportunity to tell you about it one day. I would like that. Your father knows everything. I have held no secrets from him. And it is to his great credit that he married me knowing what he knew. I love him all the more for it.
“And so when Franklin began stirring up the waters of my past, God began to probe the deep recesses of my heart as well. And now I find myself wondering if this whole election came up, not so that I could become mayor of Miracle Springs, but so that I would finally face some things in my own heart that I had never let go of, so that I would put them on God’s altar once and for all.”
“But surely you can’t want Mr. Royce to be mayor!” I said in astonishment.
“Wouldn’t it be better for me to withdraw from the election, even if it means giving the mayor’s post to him, than to go ahead with something that is outside of God’s will for me?”
“I suppose so,” I answered hesitantly. “But I just can’t stand the thought of Mr. Royce getting his own way and gaining control of this town.”
“I can’t either,” she replied. “But he is not a Christian, and I am. Therefore I am under orders to a higher power. To two higher powers—the Lord God our Father, and to my husband Drummond Hollister. And maybe it’s time I started to ask the two of them what I am supposed to do, instead of deciding for myself.”
“I just can’t abide the thought of Mr. Royce being mayor.”
“Look at me, Corrie,” she said tenderly, placing her hand gently on her stomach. “The baby that is your father’s and mine is beginning to grow. Before long I will be getting fat with your own new little brother or sister. Do I look like a politician . . . a mayor?”
“I see what you mean,” I said.
“Do you remember what you said when we first started talking, about the two parts struggling inside you?”
I nodded.
“It’s the same thing I’ve been wrestling with. It’s hard. It’s painful. That’s why I’ve been praying, and crying. I want to be mayor. But at the same time, my first calling is to be a woman—to be your father’s wife, to be a mother to his children, and this new child I am carrying. Balancing the two is very difficult! That’s why I don’t know what to tell you to do about your article and Mr. Kemble. Because I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do in my own dilemma.”
We both were silent for several minutes. “What will you do?” I asked finally.
“I don’t know,” Almeda answered. “But the one thing I do have to do is talk with your father—and pray with him. This is one decision I am not going to make without him!”
She looked at me and smiled, wiping off the last of the tears on her face with her handkerchief.
“Thank you for listening, Corrie,” she said. “You are a dear friend, besides being the best daughter a woman could have. Pray for me, will you?”
“I always do,” I replied. I leaned toward her and gave her a tight hug. We held one another for several moments.
“Oh, Lord,” I prayed aloud, “help the two of us to be the women you want us to be. I pray that you’ll show Almeda and Pa just what you want them to do. And help me to know what you want me to do, too.”
“Amen!” Almeda whispered softly.
When we released each other, both of us had tears in our eyes. They were not tears of sadness, but of joy.
Chapter 21
Franklin Royce Surprises Everybody
All day Thursday after Almeda and I had our long talk, neither of us could concentrate on work. About three in the afternoon, Almeda suggested we go on home.
We hadn’t been back more than forty or fifty minutes when Alkali Jones rode up as fast as his stubborn mule Corrie’s Beast could carry him—which wasn’t very fast!
Pa was just walking down from the mine to wash up and have a cup of coffee. We’d been inside the house, but hadn’t yet seen Pa since getting home. Mr. Jones spoke to all of us at once as he climbed down off the Beast.
“Ye left Miracle too blamed early!” he said to me and Almeda. “Weren’t five minutes after ye was gone, ol’ Royce come out o’ his bank, an’ starts talkin’ to a few men who was hangin’ around the Gold Nugget. Told ’em he was gonna be givin’ kinda like a speech tomorrow mornin’, though not exactly campaignin’. But he said whatever men owed his bank money oughta be sure an’ be there. He said he’d like to notify ’em all by letter, but there weren’t enough time, so would the men spread the word around town.”
“And what else?” asked Pa.
“That’s it,” said Mr. Jones. “He’s gonna be sayin’ something he says is mighty important an’ folks oughta be there.”
Pa looked at Almeda. “Well, I reckon this could be it,” he said. “Looks like he’s gonna call our bluff and foreclose on the whole town at once.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” said Almeda.
“As long as you’ve known Franklin Royce,” said Pa, “you still think he’d be afraid to do anything? Nope, that’s what he’s gonna to do all right. One last threat to finalize his election on Tuesday.”
“I just can’t believe he’d have the gall.”
“He’ll do anything to win.”
Everybody was silent a minute.
“Well, I can’t be there,” said Almeda finally. “I wouldn’t be able to tolerate that conniving voice of his addressing the men of this town. I’m afraid I would scream!”
“I’m not gonna be there, that’s for sure!” added Pa. “I’d be afraid I’d clobber him, and then Simon’d have to throw me in the pokey. Alkali, you want to go and hear what the snake has to say? You’d be doing us a favor.”
“You bet. Maybe I’ll clobber the varmint fer ye! Hee, hee, hee! I don’t owe him nuthin’. He cain’t do a thing to me!”
“No, you just stand there and listen. Won’t be doing our cause no good for anybody to clobber him, as much as I’d like to!”
They went into the house and had some coffee and talked a while longer, and then went back to the mine where Pa worked for another couple of hours.
That evening was pretty quiet. It felt as if a cloud had blown over the house and stopped, a big black thundercloud. I think Pa and Almeda were afraid that whatever Royce did in the morning would send a dozen or more men running to them for help with their loans, and then the cat would be out of the bag that they didn’t have enough money to help them all. They didn’t actually have any money at all! Once they were forced to admit that fact, like Pa said, the jig was up. Royce would then have everyone over a barrel and could do whatever he liked.
The next morning we all tried to keep busy around the house, but it was no use. We were on pins and needles waiting for some news from town. I think Pa was halfway afraid that he’d suddenly see ten or twenty men riding up, all clamoring for help with their loans, and when he had to level with them and say there was no way they could back them all up, that they’d turn on him and lynch him from the nearest tree!
The morning dragged on. Two or three times I could tell from Pa’s fidgeting that he was thinking of riding into town himself to see what was up. But he stuck with his resolve, and attempted to busy himself in the barn or around the outside of the house.
The first indication we had that word was on the way wasn’t the sight of dust approaching or the sound of galloping hoofbeats rounding the bend. Instead it was the high-pitched voice of Mr. Jones shouting at his mule as he whipped it along. Long before he came into view, his voice echoed his coming.
“Git up, ye dad-blamed ornery varmint!” he yelled. “Ye’re nuthin’ but a good-fer-nuthin’ heap o’ worn-out bones! If ye don’t git movin’ any faster, I’m gonna drive ye up the peak o’ Bald Mountain an’ leave ye there fer the bears an’ wolves—ye dad-burned cuss! Why, I shoulda left
ye in that drift o’ snow last winter! Ye’re slower than a rattlesnake in a freeze!”
By the time he rounded the bend and came in sight, Pa was already running toward him, and the rest of us were waiting outside the house for news.
Seeing Pa and the rest of us, Alkali’s jabbering changed and his face brightened immediately.
“Ya done it!” he shouted out. “Ya done it, ye wily rogue!”
“Done what?” said Pa. “Who’s done what?”
“You done it!” repeated Mr. Jones. “Ya made the rascal blink, that’s what! Hee, hee, hee!”
“Alkali, I don’t have a notion what you’re babbling on about!”
“He backed down, I tell ye! Your bluff worked!”
“What did he say, Mr. Jones?” said Almeda, “Are you telling us he didn’t call all the men’s notes due like we feared?”
“He didn’t do nuthin’ o’ the sort, ma’am. Why, he plumb was trippin’ over his own tongue tryin’ to be nice, ’cause he ain’t used enough to it.”
“What did he say, Alkali? Come on—out with it!” said Pa.
“Well, the varmint got up on top of a table so everybody could hear him. There was likely thirty, forty men gathered around, all of ’em that owes the rascal money. An’ they was all worried an’ frettin’, and your name came up amongst ’em afore Royce even got started, and they was sayin’ as how they’d have to be over t’ see you next.
“But then Royce climbed up there, all full of smiles, and said he’d been thinkin’ a heap ’bout the town an’ its people and about his obligation as the banker an’ the future mayor. An’ he said he had come t’ the realization that ye gotta have friends ye can trust when times get rough—”
“He stole that from you, Pa,” I interrupted.
Pa just nodded, and Mr. Jones kept going.
“An’ he said that as Miracle Springs’ banker, he was proud of bein’ a man folks could trust. An’ then came the part that jist surprised the socks clean off everybody listenin’. He said that he’d been thinkin’ an’ was realizin’ maybe he’d been a mite too hard on folks hereabouts. An’ so he said he was gonna do some re-figurin’ of his bank’s finances and had decided fer the time bein’ t’ call no more loans due. An’ he wanted t’ git folks together ’cause he knew there’d been some worry around town and he wanted t’ put folks’ minds at ease.
“An’ then blamed if he didn’t hold up a piece a paper, an’ he said that it was the call notice on Rolf Douglas’s note. An’ he said he’d reconsidered it too, an’ then all of a sudden he ripped that paper in half right afore our eyes! An’ then he said he wanted them all to remember that he was their friend, an’ a man they could trust.”
“That was all?” asked Pa, stunned by the incredible news.
“The men was jist standin’ there with their mouths hangin’ open, an’ no one knew whether t’ clap fer him or what t’ do, they was all so shocked. An’ then he said he hoped they’d remember him on election day. But if ye ask me, gatherin’ from the gist of what I heard as the men was leavin’, I figure the only person they’s gonna be rememberin’ next Tuesday is this here missus of yours, Drum, now that they don’t figure they need to be afeared of Royce!”
He stopped and looked around at all our silent amazed faces.
“Hee, hee, hee!” he cackled. “Ye all look like a parcel of blamed ghosts! Don’t ye hear what I’m tellin’ ye? Mrs. Hollister, ma’am, I think you jist about got this here election in the dad-burned bag!”
Pa finally broke out in a big grin, then shook Alkali Jones’ hand, and threw his arm around Almeda.
“Well, maybe we have done it after all, Mrs. Hollister!” he exclaimed. “I just don’t believe it.”
But Almeda wasn’t smiling. One glance over in my direction told me this latest news was like a knife piercing her heart. Knowing that suddenly she had a chance after all was going to make what she had to do all the more difficult.
Chapter 22
Two Opposite Moods
All the rest of that Friday Almeda was quiet and kept to herself, while everyone else was happy. Around the house Pa was all smiles, laughing and joking. I’d hardly ever seen him like that! To know they had gone up against a skunk like Royce and won was more than he’d expected. We still didn’t know what effect it would have on the trouble he was trying to cause about our claim. But at least the men with overdue loan payments appeared out of danger.
Uncle Nick and Katie came down to the house, and the minute they walked in, Pa took Katie’s hand, even in her condition, and did a little jig, and then said to her and Uncle Nick, “The two of you watch how you talk around here from now on—this is the home of the soon-to-be mayor of Miracle Springs!” And that set off the celebrating all over again!
Even more than being glad about Royce’s backing down about the loans, Pa was jovial because he figured Almeda was a cinch to win the election on Tuesday! Pa was so excited he could hardly stand it. They were going to beat Royce in two ways!
Despite Royce’s last-minute ploy with his speech, tearing up Mr. Douglas’s call notice and trying to convince folks he was their friend, the word around town was that most of the men were going to go with the person their gut had told them all along they could trust. The words Mayor Hollister went down a lot smoother than Mayor Royce.
Uncle Nick was in town a couple of hours after the banker’s speech, and when he came back he confirmed exactly what Mr. Jones had said. People were relieved at what Royce had done. But a lot of them said they hadn’t been that worried anyway because they knew Drum would help them out. And now more than ever they knew who they were going to vote for, and it wasn’t the man with all the money in the fine suit of clothes from New York.
“Everybody’s sayin’ the same thing, Drum,” said Uncle Nick, “and what Alkali said is right—she’s just about got the election in the bag!”
When Almeda and I went into the office for a couple of hours, people on the street shouted out greetings. Mr. Ashton was all smiles, and when we saw Marcus Weber a bit later, his white teeth just about filled his dark face in the hugest grin I’d ever seen him wear. The two men did everything but address her as Mrs. Mayor.
Poor Mr. Royce! He had tried being mean, and now he was trying to be nice. But neither tactic made people like him nor trust him.
Almeda was silent, unsmiling, even moody. Pa, and I think most other folks, just figured she wasn’t feeling well on account of the baby.
But I knew that wasn’t it. I knew what she was thinking—she was going to withdraw from the election! After all that had gone on, she had victory in her grasp . . . and now she was going to have to let go of it and hand the election to a man she despised.
It took her the rest of the day to get up the nerve to talk to Pa, because she knew how disappointed he would be. Finally, after supper, she asked him if he’d go outside with her for a walk. He was still smiling when they left. But when they came back an hour or so later, his face was as downcast as hers had been all day, and Almeda’s eyes were red from crying. I knew I’d been right. She’d told him, and the election was off.
The instant they walked in the door, a gloomy silence came over the five of us kids. All the rest of them knew something was up, just from Pa’s face, although neither Pa nor Almeda said anything about what they were thinking.
Before long we got ourselves ready and off to bed, leaving Pa and Almeda sitting in front of the fire. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was the soft sounds of their voices in the other room. I couldn’t tell if they were talking to each other or praying.
Probably both.
Chapter 23
The Committee Gets Together Again
On Saturday, three days before the election, when I got up Pa was already gone. Almeda was still in bed. Pa finally returned a little before noon. His first words were to Almeda, who was up and about but who hadn’t said much to any of the rest of us yet that morning.
“You still want to tell everyone all at o
nce?” he asked her.
“I think it’s the best way, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I reckon. They gotta know sometime, and it’s probably easiest that way.”
Then Pa turned to the rest of us. “Listen, kids—we’re going to have another meeting of our election committee. So you all be here right after lunch. Don’t go running off if you want to hear what your mother and I have been discussing, you hear? Plans have changed some, and we’re gonna tell you all about it.”
He spoke again to Almeda. “I already told Nick and Katie to come down. What do you think—anyone else we ought to tell personally, so they don’t just hear from Widow Robinson and the rest of the town gossips?”
“Maybe it would be good to tell some of our friends,” suggested Almeda, “now that you mention it. I’d like Elmer and Marcus to hear it from us.”
“And Pat,” said Pa. “And maybe the minister—”
“And Harriet,” added Almeda.
They both thought another minute.
“Guess that’s about it, huh?” said Pa. Almeda nodded.
“Zack, son,” said Pa, “You want to ride over to the Shaws’ and ask Pat if he could come over around half past one?”
“Sure, Pa.”
“Come to think of it,” Pa added, “ask him if he’s seen Alkali today. Alkali’s gotta be here too.”
“He was by Uncle Nick’s earlier,” said Zack. “I heard him say he was going into town.”
“Well, we’ll round him up somewhere. Between him and his mule, it shouldn’t be too hard to find him.”
“Corrie, would you ride into town and deliver the same message to Mr. Ashton and Mr. Weber?” said Almeda.
“Can I go see Miss Stansberry?” asked Emily. “I’ll tell her.”
“Sure, said Pa. “What about Rev. Rutledge? Who wants to ride over—”
“I’ll ask him to come too,” said Emily. “He’ll be at Miss Stansberry’s—he’s always with her.”
“You noticed, eh?” said Pa with a smile.
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