Wolf Creek Homecoming
Page 8
“I am.”
“Well, if you’re worried about the cost, let me be clear. I’m not offering to sell you part of the farm. I’m giving it to you.”
“Again, I thank you, but the answer is no.”
“Then—”
Gabe held up a silencing hand. “What you’ve done means more to me than you’ll ever know, considering the way things have always been between us, but I won’t take you up on your offer because I know in my heart that, unlike you, farming isn’t for me. Besides, it’s your farm, Caleb. Always will be. You’ve given it your blood, sweat and tears your whole life. Lucas didn’t give you anything. You paid for it. Every acre. Every fence post. Every head of livestock.”
“But what will you do?” Caleb’s expression was troubled.
“I’m not sure, but something will come along,” Gabe said. “It always does.”
* * *
By the end of February, spring was making promises everyone knew she would not keep. Gabe smoothed his shirt collar as a loud rapping sounded at his door. Caleb, no doubt. Abby had been unrelenting in her pleas for Gabe to attend church. Until today, he’d managed to put her off with the excuse that his ribs just weren’t up to sitting so long in the hard pews. But with the thrashing he’d received two months past, he was feeling much better, and Abby had declared that his excuse was getting old.
So here he was, dressed up in his Sunday best and waiting to come face-to-face with people who’d known him since birth. People who knew about his many youthful escapades...and indiscretions.
Though the room was a bit chilly, Gabe broke out into a sweat just thinking of the gauntlet he was about to run. He took a steadying breath and flung open the door. If he intended to make a life here, the time for hiding was past.
It was time to face the music.
Time to pay the fiddler.
* * *
Gabe followed his brother and Abby into the small church, certain he’d never been more uncomfortable in his life. Expecting censure, he was surprised when a tall, heavy-set man with salt-and-pepper hair and matching beard covering his fleshy cheeks spoke to Caleb and Abby then grabbed Gabe’s hand and began to pump it up and down.
“Gabriel Gentry! It’s good to have you.”
Taken aback by the man’s enthusiastic welcome, Gabe barely managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”
“You remember me, don’t you? Earl Pickens?”
Earl Pickens. Gabe did remember him. “Do you still have the newspaper?”
“I still keep my hand in, but my son, Charles, does most of the work these days.”
They talked for a few more minutes, and Abby introduced him to some other couples, people near his and Caleb’s age. A few greetings were warmer than others, but no one snubbed him outright. That in itself was gratifying and humbling. Of course, he hadn’t seen Sarah VanSickle yet.
“Gabe!”
He turned at the sound of the childish voice. Danny, Rachel and Edward, who was using his canes to get around this morning, were entering the double doors. The boy headed toward Gabe, a wide smile on his face. Rachel reached out to stop him with a hand on his shoulder.
He glanced up at his mother with a questioning look.
“We need to get Pops settled. The service is about to start.” Her expression was carefully neutral, and her halfhearted smile did not quite reach her brown eyes when she turned to Gabe. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“You can thank Abby for that,” he said, the simple reply challenging her to say anything to her friend. For a moment, she seemed to be searching for a comeback.
Apparently unable to come up with anything pithy, she murmured, “I hope you enjoy the service,” and then she followed her father down the aisle.
Gabe could add Rachel’s name to the column of folks who were not particularly happy to see him there.
By the time the song leader began the first hymn, voices raised in the a cappella rendition of “The Old Rugged Cross,” Gabe had managed to push her cool disapproval from his mind and was able to concentrate on the service.
The minister’s sermon was about God’s divine providence and how there were lessons to be learned from life’s difficulties and bad experiences. He went on to say that problems often enabled us to grow not only as individuals, but in our faith. Always, His goal was for ultimate good, even though many were unable to recognize His plan in the midst of pain and turmoil. People either grew closer to God or turned away when trouble struck.
Gabe wondered what the Lord’s plan was for him. He was truly sorry for his past behavior, but he failed to see how Lucas’s treatment of him and his brother, his mother’s abandonment and his own youthful transgressions could be part of a plan to bring about his betterment or his happiness—or anyone else’s, for that matter.
He cast a surreptitious glance at Rachel, who chose that moment to look his way. Her mouth was set in an uncompromising line, and her eyes reflected coolness. It didn’t look as if she saw the wisdom of God’s providence in his return, either.
Chapter Five
By mid-March, Gabe began to wander to the Emersons’ mercantile several times a week in an effort to thwart his boredom. He spent hours talking to Bart and Mary Emerson, catching up on the town’s happenings.
He found out who had died, who had married and that there was a growing interest in timber and gravel. He gained insights into his brother’s character and details about Caleb’s marriage to the Emersons’ daughter. He was a bit surprised that they had so wholeheartedly accepted Abby as a mother for their little granddaughter so soon after Emily’s death, but then the Emersons were exceptional people.
When he tried to bring the conversation around to Rachel, hoping to learn more about her missing husband, the Emersons, like Caleb, claimed to know nothing. They were not ones to gossip. Since Abby was reasonably new to town, the only thing she knew about Rachel was that she was a good person and a fantastic doctor. Gabe didn’t miss the considering expression in his sister-in-law’s eyes and wondered if what he thought were casual questions had tipped his hand about his growing feelings for the lady physician.
Some days, he helped unpack new merchandise and rearrange other stock, hoping that the reshuffling would bring attention to product that was slow to sell. Other times, he joined the men whose sole occupation was passing the day by striking up conversations with whoever came through the doors and playing chess or checkers until one of them pulled out a pocket watch and announced that it was “time to get home before Sally/Bessie/Mable/Annie threw out their supper.”
At the end of the month, Gabe was surprised when Bart said he wanted to have a talk with him.
“Sure, Bart,” Gabe said. “What can I do for you?”
“Mary and I have discussed this, and we decided to talk to you before we do anything else.”
“Okay,” Gabe said, uncertain where the conversation was headed. There was almost a feeling of déjà vu, as he recalled his talk with Caleb.
“We’ve decided to sell the store and move to St. Louis.”
“Why?” Gabe asked, unable to hide his surprise. “I thought you were happy in Wolf Creek?”
“We are,” Bart said, “but we have another daughter and five grandchildren we seldom get to see. We’ve been so tied down here that we seldom get away.”
“Joanna’s children are growing up without us knowing them at all,” Mary chimed in. “We’ve decided that we want to spend more time with them now that Emily is gone.”
“What will you do there?”
“Our son-in-law’s factory is doing well, and he could use some part-time help in the office. I’d help him a couple of days a week. With our savings and the sale of the store, we should be able to live comfortably enough,” Bart told him.
“What about Betsy?” Gabe asked, still t
rying to take everything in. “You’ll miss out on her growing up, too.”
“We adore her,” Mary said. “Please don’t think we don’t. We’ve even talked about taking her with us, if Caleb would let us...”
“...which we both doubt,” Bart said.
“But Joanna’s hands are full, and we’re too old to bring up another child.”
“We know that Caleb and Abby will take good care of her,” Bart chimed in. “And Caleb is her father. Once we move, and I just work part time, we can come back for a visit whenever we want. And we would always welcome Caleb and Abby if they wanted to come visit us.”
Gabe saw that they’d given the notion a lot of thought. “Why are you telling me about this?”
“We’d like you to buy the store.”
Gabe was sure his mouth fell open. He looked from one to the other. “Me? Why?”
“It was Mary’s idea,” Bart said. “I know you’re trying to decide what to do if you stay here, and this is a good business if it’s handled correctly.”
“I don’t know the first thing about the mercantile business,” Gabe said, though the offer had definitely piqued his interest and his mind was already whirling with possibilities.
“Nonsense! You’ve been a great help to us the past few weeks, and you have some fantastic ideas for new products and promoting sales. Besides, we won’t be leaving until early May,” Bart said. “It will take that long to make arrangements. If you buy, we could come in every day and work with you...show you the ropes until you get the hang of things.”
Gabe’s head was spinning. “What about the price?” he asked. “I have a little money stuck back, but I’m sure it isn’t enough, and I doubt Mr. Haversham would give me a loan, since I haven’t been here long to establish any credit.”
“Oh, I figure he might, if I have a talk with him,” Bart said. “If not, I’ll finance the balance myself.”
“You’d do that?” Gabe asked, stunned at the unexpected generosity of the offer. “Why?”
“Because I see you trying to change your life, son,” Bart said, clamping a hand on Gabe’s shoulder, “and I’m a firm believer that we all deserve a second chance. Nobody gets it right all the time.”
* * *
Gabe thought it over for a week before deciding to become a retail merchant. Arrangements for the purchase were less trouble than he’d expected. Nathan Haversham might not have agreed with Gabe’s previous lifestyle, but like Bart, he liked the idea of a young man who’d seen what was happening in other parts of the country bringing some of those fresh ideas to their town. He was also counting on the fact that Lucas Gentry’s blood flowed in Gabe’s veins. That alone meant he had a pretty good chance of making the enterprise a success.
While awaiting the arrival of May, Bart and Mary showed him how to take inventory; how many, what kind, how much and when to order; and to whom he should extend credit—as well as to whom he should not. Somewhat surprisingly, he enjoyed the learning process. He liked that no two days were alike. Always gregarious, he liked visiting with the customers, liked hearing their problems and offering his commiseration, even though he had no idea how to fix his own problems.
He’d made a start, though. He’d realized that Rachel might not pardon him, but God could and would, if only Gabe made things right with Him and turned his life around. Feeling the weight of his unworthiness, and humbled by the depth of God’s grace, he had become a Christian two weeks earlier. As he’d come up from the still-cold waters of Wolf Creek, he’d felt a sense of peace and responsibility he’d never known before.
Lucas Gentry had not been a God-fearing man in any respect, and the idea of a life built with Christ at its center was an alien one to Gabe; nevertheless, he was committed to doing his best. Since then, he’d worked even harder at trying to be everything he should be, but there were times he knew he failed miserably. That, Abby had assured him with a confident smile, was where grace continued to cleanse.
* * *
The morning in late April after he’d signed the papers, he got up before daybreak, dressed and unlocked the front doors before the town was stirring—though he did see a light at the café. Ellie was up making pies and setting her bread to rise. He lit a couple of lamps and walked around the store, looking around, making plans, running his hand over the counter, unable to stop the heady pride of possession that swept through him.
He’d done it! For better or worse, he’d found a way to stay. Now he needed to make himself an accepted member of the community. Whether or not he would be a success was up to him. He would be successful. He was smart, willing and, like Nate Haversham, knew he’d inherited enough of Lucas Gentry’s business savvy to make a go of things. With just over a week until Bart and Mary left, he needed to soak up every bit of knowledge he could from them.
Folding his arms across his chest, he surveyed the large area, thinking of ways to make his mark on the store. First thing today, he’d order a new sign: GENTRY MERCANTILE. He would choose a day and advertise a grand opening in the newspaper, like the one he’d seen in New York—or was that Boston?—with cookies or cake and punch. He would give away some merchandise as door prizes. People liked that.
He scrutinized the large plate-glass windows and pictured a raised display area built in front of each of them. He could purchase some dress forms to show off the new spring fashions and drape some of his new fabrics over...well, something to display their bright hues.
He contemplated the arrangements of the shelving and tables. The chess and checkerboards would be better moved nearer to the potbellied stove. He’d hang a lantern above the tables for better lighting. He could make a pot of coffee every day in one of the blue spatterware coffeepots he sold and keep it warming on the back of the stove. It would be a nice gesture to offer a free coffee to those who came to shop, especially in winter.
He was heading toward the curtain that separated the front of the store from the back room when he heard the bell at the door tinkle. Turning, he saw Rachel poised just inside the entryway.
“You actually did it.”
There was no missing the disbelief lacing her voice.
“If you mean buying the Emersons out, then yes, I did it.”
“Why?”
Weary of her resentment, Gabe tamped down his own temper. “I told you months ago that I planned on staying.”
“So you did,” she said with a hollow smile. “I just never thought you really would. How could you do this to me?”
“My staying has nothing to do with you, Rachel,” he tried to explain. “It’s a choice I made because I believe it’s the best course for me. Believe it or not, I didn’t set out to ruin your life or decide to stay to make you miserable.”
“Well, that’s what it feels like.” Like him, she was carefully civil.
Feeling the familiar despair sweep through him, he struggled for calmness he was far from feeling. “I’m sorry for that,” he said, “but I have tried to make amends.”
“You have, but do you really think it’s as simple as saying ‘I’m sorry’?”
He stepped from behind the counter and advanced on her with a purposeful stride, not stopping until he was within touching distance. If he expected her to retreat as the old Rachel would have, he was disappointed. This Rachel stood her ground.
“Oh, I forgot,” he mocked, forgetting that he was supposed to be the peacemaker. “Apologies, even sincere apologies, mean nothing to the upstanding Dr. Stone, epitome of all that is pure and proper.”
“No longer pure, thanks to you.”
Gabe clenched his fists at his sides, closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he drew a deep breath, again struggling to find some measure of rationality before speaking. “You’re right. Because of me you are no longer innocent, but I wonder if you’ve forgotten that what happened was by mutual agreement.”
It was an accusation he couldn’t deny. Gabe scrubbed a hand over his face. Dear Lord, help me.
“You’re right. And I have asked for your forgiveness on more than one occasion, which you have denied.” The frustration and sorrow inside him was etched on his face. “I can’t undo the past, Rachel. So what more would you have me do? Go out on the street wearing sackcloth and ashes? Maybe I should take a cat-o’-nine and flog myself before the whole town. Would that make you happy?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever be truly happy, thanks to you.”
“I find that incredibly sad,” he said, with a shake of his head, “but I will not allow you to place all the blame for a lifetime of misery on me, when we were equally responsible for what happened.
“The first day I visited church, the preacher said we were given trials because we were expected to grow in faith and to learn from them. One thing I’ve learned the past nine years—and believe me, everything I’ve learned has been the hard way—is that we all make mistakes, even the blameless Dr. Stone.
“I’ve also learned that you were right about us making our own happiness. We can’t rely on money or things or other people, because we’ll never reach that state until we are satisfied with who and what we are.”
“So wise,” she said, with a shake of her head. “Tell me, Gabe, are you happy?”
He hesitated no more than a fraction of a second. “I’m getting there.” It came as a bit of a surprise to realize it was true.
Speechless, she turned to leave. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. With a gasp, she whirled to face him. “Do you know what I remember about those three weeks?” he asked.
She stood mute, trembling beneath his touch.
“I remember a beautiful, shy, incredibly intelligent young woman with a core of determination that awed me.” Unable to help himself, he trailed a whisper-soft touch along the curve of her jaw and saw the lingering misery in her eyes dim.