Long Trail Home

by Vickie McDonough

  Soon the accompanists left the stage and the minister waited for them to take their seats before addressing the crowd again. He smiled, the hair on his moustache dancing. “We have a very special treat tonight. Today I met Miss Laura Wilcox, who is the administrator of the Wilcox School for the Blind, as most of you-all know. We had a nice talk, which led me to offer an invitation to have the children sing tonight.”

  Soft gasps and pleasant oohs! echoed across the square, and a smattering of applause built to a loud rumble. Annie glanced sideways, and Tess, Henry, and Becky all three had wide grins spreading across their faces.

  “Miss Wilcox, would you please bring your exceptionally talented children up front and sing a few songs for us fortunate people?”

  Miss Laura rose and tapped Rusty on the arm. He stood and the other small children followed. Riley hopped up, squeezing past her, and he whispered to Becky, who stood. Annie wanted to go along and help get the children lined up, but she would only be in the way, and besides, she didn’t deserve to stand up in front of all these good churchgoing people and pretend a lie. She was so tired of it all.

  Closing her eyes, she let the words of the children’s songs wash over her like a gentle spring rain. Their voices rose sweetly as the words floated across the audience. “I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see.”

  Annie’s eyes shot open. Her heart pounded. She was once lost, but then she found a home. She was blind—sort of—but what did those last words mean to her? She’d never before considered how the words of that hymn modeled her life. What did the rest of the song say? She must have sung it a hundred times, but the words muddled in her brain like thick molasses as the crowd’s thunderous applause for the children pounded in her ears. Riley guided the children back to their bench, and each one’s face beamed with pride. Bless that minister for giving them this chance to stand out.

  Taking his seat beside her, Riley leaned close. “They did great, huh?”

  She nodded, and leaned toward his ear. “I’m not deaf, you know.”

  He chuckled and faced forward, duly scolded. Annie found herself grinning with him.

  “Glory be,” Reverend James said, shaking his head. “The Good Lord has surely blessed those youngsters with the voices of angels.” He glanced down at his worn Bible. “I’m opening my message tonight with a verse from the book of Romans. ‘For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’” He snapped his Bible shut so fast several people on the front rows jumped.

  “Just what is sin? Do you really know?”

  “It’s when you don’t obey Miss Laura,” Rusty shouted.

  Out the corner of her eye, Annie saw Laura’s hand shoot out and cover Rusty’s mouth as she quieted him again. Laughter rippled around them.

  “That can be one form of sin, young man. Sin is a willful or deliberate desecration of a religious or moral principle. That means if you murder someone, you’ve sinned. If you dishonor your parents, you’ve sinned. If you disobey God’s Word, you’re a sinner.”

  As if someone had shoved a knife in Annie’s heart, a sudden realization stabbed her—she was a sinner. She had lied—stolen. Ducking her head, she hid her face, sure that everyone around would see the blackness that marred her heart.

  “The truth is, every single one of us is a sinner.” Reverend James held up his Bible. “God’s Word says: ‘For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.’ All—not some.” He kept silent for a long moment as if to allow his words to soak in.

  Annie sucked in a silent sob, and Riley glanced at her. She turned her head away, not wanting him to see her struggle. Never before had a preacher’s message knocked her upside the head with a huge dose of reality and made her feel so convicted. Most times she barely heard what the preachers said, because she was so busy keeping the children still.

  But this man didn’t mince words. She was a sinner. Not even God would want someone like her. She squeezed her eyes shut but the unwanted tears streamed out. Riley leaned away from her and pulled something out of his pocket and nudged her with his handkerchief. She took it, glad it was at least clean. Wiping her eyes, she caught a brief splash of Riley’s scent—manly and clean. How different he was now from the filthy beggar who’d first come to their door.

  “I see the worried expressions on some of you-all’s faces. Let me tell you that you’re not without hope. Don’t forget there are two parts to that verse I first read. ‘For the wages of sin is death—but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’ Yes, we are all sinners, folks, and each of us will face death for our ill deeds, whether slight or heinous, but I’m here to tell you that there’s more. You can be forgiven. You can be set free from your sin. That’s the second part of that verse—‘the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’”

  Hope soared in Annie’s heart like a bird set free from a snare. She could be forgiven.

  “Scripture says: ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’” Reverend James stepped off the stage, Bible tucked under one arm. “All that is required is that you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and repent of your sins, and God will welcome you into His fold.”

  Annie relived all the horrible things she’d done. From her earliest days, she’d been taught to steal—fruit from the street vendors, a loaf of bread, wallets, watches, even rings right off people’s fingers. She’d done it all to earn her daddy’s approval and had never known such deeds were wrong until she’d overheard a street preacher one day saying that stealing was a sin. After that, she’d been uncomfortable taking things that didn’t belong to her, but her daddy had forced her to do so in order to eat.

  And then she’d pretended to be blind—just to have clean clothes and a home.

  She was a sinner.

  She didn’t deserve God’s forgiveness.

  “So how does one become saved? God’s Word says: ‘For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.’” He patted the top of his Bible then held it out to a man on the front row. “Salvation is a gift, folks. Just like if I was to give my Bible to this man. It’s not something you can earn, no matter how good a person you are. The kindest, most generous people in this world will spend eternity in hell unless they repent of their sins and accept Jesus into their hearts. I’ll say it again. Salvation is a gift. Yours for the taking.”

  He pointed his finger at the crowd. “Will you accept God’s gift?” He moved his hand, pointing toward people farther back. “How about you?”

  The long, thin finger swept sideways, and Annie was certain it was pointing straight at her. Heart pounding, she licked her dry, dust-coated lips.

  “And what about you? Will you receive the gift? Or will you refuse it?”

  Annie wanted the gift—more than she’d ever wanted anything. Just as she no longer stole things, she longed to be free of her lying—her deceit. But would God accept her—a terrible sinner? Hadn’t the preacher said God loved everyone?

  She searched her mind for his words. So much of the meeting she’d spent time stewing over her past, that she’d missed much of what he’d said. But didn’t he say God was no respecter of persons? Maybe He would accept a reformed pickpocket.

  “I need to close so you folks who have long rides can get home before the sun sets, but I don’t want anyone to leave here who feels God calling them.” He motioned to the musicians, who gathered their instruments, came back up front, and began quietly playing. The preacher held out his arms. “If God is calling you, don’t ignore Him, folks. Eternal life in heaven is at stake. One last thing. I’m sure you noticed I didn’t take up an offering. In case you haven’t heard, the Wilcox School for the Blind has fallen upon hard times. As you leave tonight, there will be men with baskets at the end of the aisles, and if you feel led to drop in a few
coins to help these children, I know it would be appreciated. Every penny donated tonight will go to the school, and please, no Confederate bills.” Soft ripples of laughter echoed around the town square as people stood.

  “Thank you-all for coming tonight. As you head home, let me leave you with one final exhortation from Micah 6:8. ‘He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?’” The preacher lifted his hand and blessed the people. “Go in peace, and I hope all you-all will come back tomorrow evening.”

  “We can go now?” Rusty jumped up, bumping into Annie’s back.

  Annie stood and spun toward Riley, who also rose. “I can’t leave yet. I’ve got to go talk to that preacher. Will you take me up there?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Riley was ready to run down the aisle but not toward the preacher. He just wanted to get out of there and away from the emotions that swirled through him like a flash flood. The man’s sermon made him think too much. Remember too much.

  And remembering only caused pain.

  He picked up his hat from the bench and placed it on his head. People were crowding the aisles like cattle, all trying to get through the same few openings.

  “Did you hear me?” Annie asked, tugging on his sleeve. “I want to know if you’ll take me up front so I can talk to the minister.”

  Riley shook his head. He was plenty close enough to the preacher already. “Sorry, but I need to help Miss Laura get the children to the wagon.”

  Annie’s hopeful expression sagged. “Of course. It’s getting late, and they need to get home. Go on, then. I’ll just wait until things are less crowded, then make my own way up front.” She backed up to the bench and sat.

  Riley pushed his hat back on his forehead, feeling as low as a toad’s belly. She couldn’t stay here alone. He glanced at Miss Laura. Though people crowded past her, she had the younger children in the aisle, already lined up, and was gathering the older ones to finish up the row. Should he leave Annie here, alone and unprotected, to help Miss Laura, who seemed to have things under control? He scratched his temple. Could Miss Laura even drive a wagon?

  He glanced down at Annie, sitting there so straight, looking pretty, even though her hair, which she’d coiled into a bun, listed to the left a bit. It only made her more charming. Pulling his gaze away, he started for Miss Laura. “You stay right there,” he called back over his shoulder to Annie.

  “Look out, comin’ through.” Sean Murphy barreled his way through the crowd toward the front. He got to the line of children at the same time Riley met Miss Laura. She glanced at him over Becky’s head, then her gaze swerved to Annie’s. Love and concern emanated from her eyes.

  “She wants to go up and talk to the preacher.” Riley quirked his mouth to one side and shrugged a shoulder.

  “I can help you get the children home, Laura.” Sean’s deep voice boomed over the chattering of the crowd.

  Laura looked at Sean, and after a moment, she nodded. She looked back at Riley. “I’d appreciate your staying here and seeing Annie home safely.”

  Great, just great. He took a deep breath, gave Miss Laura a curt nod, and then turned back to Annie. The last place he wanted to be was closer to that man of God. The guy actually had him squirming on the bench with his pointed statements, but there were too many issues unsettled in Riley’s mind for him to make things right with God just yet.

  And then there was Annie, the woman who kept him awake at nights and stirred up things he didn’t want to feel. He’d best just see her to the front and get it over with. He hiked back to her, dodging around a couple of women blocking the aisle as they chatted. He held out his hand to Annie. “All right, I’ll take you up front.”

  Her head jerked up, and she lifted tear-stained eyes that almost reached his, but then lowered. Her nose and cheeks were red and splotchy. His gut tightened. What could she possibly be so distressed about? Was she upset with him for refusing to take her to the preacher?

  No, she wasn’t one to get upset over something so trivial. More likely, she was worried about the school closing. Of course, that was it. As far as he knew, she had no family, so what would become of her? He sat down beside her, wanting to take hold of her hand and reassure her things would work out, but he couldn’t. “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

  Her chin quivered, and she shook her head. “I need to talk to the minister.”

  “All right. Things are clearing out, so let me help you up there.”

  She took his hand and allowed him to help her up and lead her to the front. They waited while the preacher prayed with three others, and then Reverend James stepped in front of Annie. Riley realized he still held her hand and released it. “The lady would like a word with you, sir. She … uh …” He waved his index finger at his eyes. “She can’t see.”

  The minister studied Riley a moment then nodded and turned to Annie. Stepping back, Riley got the distinct feeling that the man saw right through him—to the struggle going on inside him.

  “It was kind of you to loan us your wagon tonight and to see us home, Sean, especially since Riley stayed to walk Annie back.” Laura rearranged her skirt and peeked over her shoulder at the quiet children. As she turned back, her gaze collided with Sean’s, sending her heart pounding like the children’s footsteps at mealtime.

  “Those young’uns are plumb tuckered out, aren’t they?” he said.

  “The excitement of singing, I suppose. They don’t get many opportunities to show their talents.” Laura faced forward, bemoaning the fact that her voice had wobbled. She placed her trembling hands in her lap. She was feeling like a silly schoolgirl with her first infatuation.

  Maybe because Sean had been her first—and only—beau?

  “Mrs. Alton baked pie for us to eat after the service, although I don’t know how many of the children will be able to stay awake to enjoy it,” she said. “Would you care to stay and have a slice?”

  “I’d like to, but I don’t think I should. Sure wouldn’t want to give anyone a reason to gossip.”

  Warmth rushed to Laura’s cheeks, but she appreciated Sean’s concern for her reputation. “I should have thought of that. People do talk, you know. It’s just that I’m so used to having Annie and now Mr. Morgan around that I didn’t think—” She realized she was rambling and forced herself to be quiet. She wasn’t one to get nervous most times, so why did being around Sean make her so antsy?

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sean nudged his chin toward the horizon.

  The sun had already sunk below the horizon, but fingers of light painted the clouds a pinkish-lavender shade that reminded her of purple coneflowers. Twilight settled across the land, turning the sky to indigo. Crickets chirped all around them, welcoming them back home. Evening was a peaceful time, when most of the day’s chores were done and she could relax and do some reading or mending.

  The school rose up before her as they drew nearer, reminding her that their days there were numbered. She’d all but talked her tongue off trying to find another benefactor or to get the city to support the school, but all her efforts had been in vain. Reverend James’s kind offer to donate the evening’s collection to the school was a blessing she hadn’t anticipated. She hoped there would be enough donations to pay off her creditors and be able to refund money to the parents who had paid several months in advance for their children’s care. She didn’t want to close the school owing anything to anyone.

  “Whoa, there.” Sean pulled up the wagon in front of the house and then helped her down. The girls slid out of the wagon and plodded up the stairs.

  “Rusty’s asleep, Miss Laura,” Henry whispered.

  “I’ll carry him upstairs if you’ll show me where to put him,” Sean said to the older boy, but then he glanced at Laura. “That is, if it’s all right.”

  Laura nodded and followed the girls inside. “There’s pie in the kitchen, if you’re not too tired,” she said a
s she lit the parlor lantern.

  Lissa yawned loudly and rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired.”

  “I’ll take her up,” Becky offered. “If you’ll save me a slice of pie.”

  Laura ran her hand down the girl’s soft cheek. “You go ahead and help Lissa. I’m going to run up and light a lantern for Mr. Murphy.”

  “He’s a nice man.” Becky smiled, her faded blue eyes pulling inward in an unnatural slant. She pawed the air until she located Lissa sitting on the bottom step, then she helped the younger girl up the stairs.

  Laura lit the lantern then hurried back downstairs.

  Henry held the front door open for Sean, and the big man carried Rusty inside. His gaze latched on to hers, and for the briefest of moments, she imagined they were married and Sean was carrying in their own child. She swallowed the lump clogging her throat. She’d thought that dream was long dead and gone. “Henry can show you where to put Rusty. I’ll go cut a slice of pie so you can take it home.”

  Sean’s warm smile reached inside her and twisted the key to the lock on her heart. She spun around and scurried into the kitchen. Camilla sat at the table, while Tess had found the pie and carefully began slicing it.

  Laura walked up behind her and touched her shoulder. “Why don’t you get a cloth and help Camilla wash up? I’ll take care of this.”

  Tess smiled over her shoulder. “All right, Miss Laura.”

  Tears burned Laura’s eyes. Oh, how she’d miss these sweet children when they returned home. She needed to tell them soon, before they heard from someone else about the school’s closing, but that would be one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

  Blinking back the tears, she sliced the pie and placed the slivers onto plates. “Tess, could you please set these on the table?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”