He returned to the pulpit and opened his Bible. “In the sixth chapter of Luke, Jesus stood in the presence of His disciples and a multitude of people, and He shared these words: ‘Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you. And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also. Give to every man that asketh of thee; and of him that taketh away thy goods ask them not again. And as ye would that men should do to you, do ye also to them likewise.’ ”
The impish glint Arthur had seen before flashed in the preacher’s eyes. “Please take note that last verse does not say do to others as they have done to you, but rather do what you would like others to do to you.”
Soft chuckles rolled through the room, and Leon and Bud exchanged quick grins, then turned their faces forward again.
“Turning the other cheek isn’t easy. It’s a lot easier to smite—or slap, for ease of understanding—than willingly offer your face to be slapped. And I don’t believe Jesus really meant for us to invite someone who’s physically slapped us to do it again. I believe it’s a metaphorical reference. If someone hurts us, instead of striking back, we should be willing to forgive.”
He stopped and gazed outward for several seconds as if he’d forgotten what he was doing. Just as the worshipers were beginning to squirm, he nodded, placed his Bible on the pulpit, and turned a smile on them. “Just this last Thursday on Thanksgiving Day, I had the privilege of witnessing an example of ‘turning the other cheek.’ My family and I enjoyed a wonderful dinner with one of our parishioners, Mrs. Neva Shilling, her children, and some other community members.
“I’m sure all of you heard about the robbery at the mercantile last month. The sheriff gave up the search for the thief, reasoning the person had hopped a passing train and was long gone. And he was right.” The teasing grin returned. “Sort of.”
Reverend Savage moved to the edge of the dais. “The thief had caught a train, but some other men encountered him farther along the line. These men had begged food at the Shillings’ back door and had been fed. Because of that act of kindness, when the men encountered the one who’d stolen money from the mercantile, they brought him and the money back. It took them more than three weeks to make the journey, often traveling by foot and hindered by the thief’s reluctance to return, but on Thanksgiving Day they again stepped into Neva Shilling’s backyard. This time not to take but to give.”
Arthur glanced at Neva. Her face glowed bright pink, and she seemed to hold her breath. He nudged her with his elbow and offered her an encouraging smile. She gave him a wobbly one in return.
“All three of these men were homeless beggars. The money the thief took could have bought them a warm hotel room, good meals, new clothes. But they didn’t spend it. No, they returned it to the woman who had fed them.” He wagged his finger, the way one might chide a naughty child. “Oh, I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t a case of repaying evil with good. It’s a case of repaying good with good. But listen to the rest of the story.”
With a smile he stepped onto the floor. “Mrs. Shilling invited the ones who’d brought back her money to sit at her dining room table and partake of Thanksgiving dinner. But do you know who else was welcomed to the table?” He paused, letting his gaze roam across each person in attendance. “The thief.” He paused again. “The same thief who robbed her mercantile, who took money that should have been used to take care of her family’s needs, who was dragged literally kicking and screaming back to Buffalo Creek to return the money, was invited to sit and dine like any other guest.”
The minister shook his head in wonder, and Arthur did the same. Her kindness went beyond all reason, yet he didn’t think her simpleminded or naive or even foolish. He deeply admired her.
Reverend Savage stepped back behind the pulpit and held up his Bible. “In that same chapter of Luke, verse 36, we find one of Jesus’s admonitions to His believers. He says, ‘Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.’ ” He carefully laid the Bible on the wooden support and then gripped the edges of the podium, his expression fervent. “We do wrong. We take things that don’t belong to us. We say things that are hurtful or untrue. We hold grudges, and we nurse bitterness, and we refuse to reach out with compassion when opportunities for it arise. And regardless of the wrong, in every situation God extends His mercy to us. As His followers we are asked—no, commanded—to follow His example.”
He once again moved his gaze from face to face as if trying to read their secret thoughts. “My dear friends, if you’re here today and are holding on to a wrong, whether bitterness or vengeance or unforgiveness against your neighbor, now is the time for mercy. As you have been given mercy, extend it to those around you. Even if they haven’t asked for it, even if you perceive they’ve done wrong, offer mercy.
“ ‘For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you…’ ” He quoted the scripture in a raspy whisper, not as a warning, but as a petition. “If you call Him ‘Lord,’ then do as He says. Mrs. Muck is going to play a closing song.”
The organist slipped onto the bench and struck the opening chord.
Reverend Savage moved to the edge of the dais and held his arms open. “As the Spirit speaks to you, come. Respond. Receive mercy or extend mercy. Whatever you need to do, God is here, ready to listen.”
The organist began to play an old, familiar hymn, and the words formed in Arthur’s mind even after his lengthy time away. “All the way my Savior leads me…” His hands were shaking, his entire body quivering with a desire he couldn’t define or squelch. “Can I doubt His tender mercy?” Others were leaving their seats, moving to the front and kneeling in prayer or reaching for the pastor’s hand.
Arthur eased Adeline onto Leroy’s lap, ignoring his son’s startled expression. Then he rose, stepped past Leroy into the aisle, and made his way to the front. He knelt in the same place he’d knelt beside Mabel nearly twenty years ago, where a knothole formed a dark spot on the clear pine board.
He closed his eyes as a line from the song winged through his memory. “Gushing from the Rock before me, Lo! A spring of joy I see.” A tear of joy slid from beneath Arthur’s closed eyes and down his cheek in a warm rush. He’d rediscovered his joy.
Neva
One by one, as church members left their pews or their spots at the dais, they approached Neva and offered handshakes, hushed words of apology, or promises to stop by the mercantile next week. After the hurt they’d caused her, she could have refused their gestures of reconciliation, but with the minister’s words ringing in her heart—“Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful”—she found the strength to offer mercy instead.
Arthur came last, and he dropped into the pew heavily, as if he’d just finished a long race. He turned his gaze to her, and the light shining in his molasses-colored eyes brought a rush of joyful tears. She touched his arm. “You’ve made peace with God, haven’t you?”
“Thanks to you.”
She shook her head firmly. “I don’t have the power to change anyone except myself, and even then I rely on God’s strength.”
He lifted her hand and delivered one gentle sweep of his lips across her knuckles—a feather-light brush of tenderness that sent Neva’s heart a-pattering. He lowered it but held it loosely in his grasp. “You didn’t change me. You simply showed me the way to be. So thank you, Neva Shilling, for living your faith in the face of hardship. You are a true inspiration.”
Leroy, Leon, and Bud had ambled to the rear of the sanctuary, but now they returned. Leroy leaned down and whispered loudly enough for Neva to hear, “Um, Dad, I think the only time you’re supposed to kiss a woman in church is on your wedding day.” Leon and Bud snickered and Belle giggled.
Arthur’s face flushed. He waved his hand in the direction of the cloakroom. “Go get your coats and hats on. Take the younger ones with you.”
Leroy, with Belle’
s help, rounded up the children and herded them out of the sanctuary.
Arthur shifted sideways and took a firmer grip on Neva’s hand. “I saw several people pause and speak to you on the way out. Were they…”
Neva smiled. “They were all kind. Reverend Savage’s sermon seemed to move a few hearts.”
He nodded. His fingers twitched. “So…do you think you’ll…stay?”
Despite the numerous prayers she’d sent up, she didn’t have an answer. At least, not one that would satisfy him. But she offered it anyway. “I don’t know yet. Yes, a few people said they’d be in to shop this week. But I need more than a half-dozen customers in order to keep my business going.” That is, if the mercantile truly was hers.
“I see.”
Troubled by his disappointment, she sought to reassure him. “I believe today’s turnaround is a start. Time will tell if I can make a living here and the children can enjoy a peaceful childhood. Maybe I won’t have cause to leave.”
He slipped his other hand beneath hers, sandwiching her small hand between his large, warm palms. Such a gentle gesture, one offering comfort and support. “I’ll pray for God’s mercy to overflow onto the hearts of the people of Buffalo Creek.”
His protective hold on her hand and his words of promise were like a kiss from God. “Thank you.”
“And, Neva, just as others asked your forgiveness, I must ask it, too.”
She frowned, confused. “You’ve been nothing but kind. Even when I”—she ducked her head, remembering how she’d railed at him on several occasions—“was short-tempered.”
“You were only short-tempered when I gave you reason to be. Please listen to me.”
She met his gaze. Red streaked his clean-shaven cheeks, bright against the stark white of his crisp celluloid collar. Something glimmered in his rich brown eyes. Something that made her pulse speed and her mouth go dry. She swallowed. “Yes?”
“When I began performing small kindnesses for you, it was for very selfish motives. Warren was gone, and I saw his passing as my opportunity to purchase the building I’d wanted for a very long time. I thought if I buttered you up, I could”—his face pinched into a horrible grimace of regret—“hoodwink you into selling the mercantile to me.”
She went hot, then cold. She jerked her hand free of his hold. “Oh.” Twice she’d trusted and twice she’d been deceived. She wanted to be angry, but only consternation filled her. How could she have been so foolish?
His hands stretched briefly toward her, then he linked them in his lap. “I was wrong. Wrong to think building the emporium made me a better man than my poor but hardworking coal-mining father. Wrong to think an even bigger business would satisfy me deep inside. Wrong to try to take advantage of you. Wrong…so very, very wrong.”
He paused and looked toward the front of the church. A soft smile turned up the tips of his mustache. “But I made things right with God again. I don’t have a lot of years left with Leroy and Leon, but those I have will be spent showing them how to honor God and unselfishly serve others. Just as you have shown your children and me.”
He faced her again. His lips trembled. “Will you please forgive me, Neva?”
She gazed at him for long minutes, torn between the desire to believe him and the desire to disdain his words. So many times Warren had professed his love for her, and she’d believed him, but he betrayed her in the worst way. Arthur by his own admission had betrayed her, too, pretending to care about her when all he wanted was the mercantile. But as she searched his face, she realized the difference between Warren and Arthur. Warren had never admitted wrongdoing, never apologized, never asked for forgiveness. She now witnessed true repentance in Arthur’s moist eyes.
“Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.” Reverend Savage’s admonition, taken straight from God’s Word, whispered to her heart. How could she deny forgiveness to Arthur when God, in His mercy, had forgiven her of her wrongs? A thread of peace wove itself through her.
She nodded slowly. “I forgive you.”
His entire frame wilted, his breath easing out on a light, airy laugh. “Thank you.”
Giggles, guffaws, and rustling noises carried from the cloakroom.
Arthur bobbed his head toward the sounds, a grin creeping up his cheek. “The children are restless.”
She stifled a laugh. “Yes. The change in weather is likely affecting them. Adeline’s never been so fidgety during a service.” Heat filled her face as she remembered how happily Adeline sat on Arthur’s knee, how happy he’d seemed to hold her. The little blond-haired girl and the burly dark-haired man made such a sweet pair. And now her thoughts were running amuck.
She rose. “Everyone else has gone. Even Reverend Savage. We’d better go, too.”
He rose, but before they stepped into the aisle, he slipped his hands around her upper arms and turned her to face him. “Neva, I know you’ve only been widowed a short time, but if you decide to stay in Buffalo Creek, and when a decent amount of time has passed, would you find it offensive for me to call on you?”
If only she could agree to his gallant request. She believed God had forged a friendship between them so he could learn the value of relationships over things and so she could learn to trust again. But until she knew whether or not she was in possession of stolen merchandise and an illegally purchased business, she couldn’t guarantee she would be in Buffalo Creek long enough to enjoy a courtship. She’d be doing Arthur a great disservice by saying yes.
“Not offensive, Arthur. Flattering.” She gently extricated herself from his hold. “But you’re right that we’d need to wait for a decent amount of time to pass. The dear people of Buffalo Creek don’t need further fuel for gossip where I’m concerned. But I can’t say for sure I’ll be in Buffalo Creek at the end of an appropriate time period. I…can’t give you an answer. Not now.”
“Understood and accepted.” He smiled, a sweet smile that told her he wasn’t one bit angry with her. He gave a little bow and moved aside.
She preceded him up the aisle and to the cloakroom, where their children gathered in two circles—Leroy, Leon, Bud, and Charley on the left side, Belle and the little girls on the right. Adeline looked up, smiled as brightly as a ray of morning sunshine, and raced toward them.
Neva held out her arms in welcome, but Adeline dashed past Neva and reached for Arthur. Without a moment’s pause, he scooped her up and settled her on his hip, a proud grin forming beneath his mustache.
The sight of Adeline tweaking the fringe of his mustache and the sounds of her little-girl giggle combined with Arthur’s deep, throaty chuckle nearly melted Neva. Oh, Lord, steel my heart…But she’d offered the prayer too late. She already loved him.
He aimed his grin in her direction. “Mrs. Lafferty left a platter of sliced smoked ham in my icebox. I also have loaves of her homemade bread, cheese, canned peaches, and oatmeal cookies at the house—a veritable feast. Would you and your children like to join my boys and me?”
She shouldn’t encourage him. Not with so much uncertainty. But he’d asked if she wanted to come, and she couldn’t lie. Not on Sunday. “Thank you, Arthur. Yes.”
Jesse
Jesse carefully replaced the telephone receiver on its hook. He stared at the notes he’d scrawled during his conversation with Sheriff Abling. He bowed his head and sent up a brief prayer for Mrs. Shilling. She’d need strength when he delivered Abling’s findings.
With the folded notes held tightly in his hand, he walked the short distance to the mercantile. The snow continued to drift from the sky—fine, powdery snow that dusted the road and shifted away from his boots as he walked. He knocked on the front door with no response, so he walked around to the back of the building. But he paused when he reached the edge of the narrow backyard, glancing around. The snow here was undisturbed. Not a single footprint smudged the surface of white. Obviously she and the children hadn’t returned from church.
He balled his hands into his pockets and hun
kered into his jacket. Where would she have gone? It had to be somewhere in town since they didn’t have a vehicle to carry them miles away. Then he snorted, inwardly berating himself. If she wasn’t here, there was only one other place she could be—the Randalls’. And if she wasn’t there, he wagered Randall would know where to find her.
The older of the Randall boys answered Jesse’s knock and invited him in. Laughter and voices carried from elsewhere in the house, and Leroy led him directly to the source. As soon as Jesse entered the dining room, the happy chatter ended, though, pricking him with guilt for destroying their enjoyment. If he hadn’t been so eager to get to Beloit and board a train for Nebraska, he would have waited until tomorrow.
Then he looked into Mrs. Shilling’s face, and he was glad he’d come. She needed these answers as much as he needed to set things right with his folks.
Randall stood and approached. “Sheriff, is everything all right?”
Jesse kept his gaze fixed on Mrs. Shilling. “Not everything, but…” He held up the paper. “I have that information you’ve been waiting for.” Curious gazes skewered him, but he kept his focus on the woman sitting between the pair of blond-pigtailed little girls.
She rose slowly, sending a half smile across the children. “I need to visit with Sheriff Caudel for a few minutes. You all stay here and enjoy your dessert.” She moved toward Jesse, but then she paused and touched Randall’s arm. “Will you come with me, Arthur?”
The man nodded, slipped his arm around her waist, and escorted her across the floor. “We’ll go to the smoking room.”
Jesse trailed the pair down a short hallway and into a small room tucked behind the staircase. Mr. Randall pushed a button and light from a six-arm brass chandelier flooded the space, illuminating a spindly two-person sofa and a huge overstuffed chair flanking a cold fireplace. The man closed the door behind him, muffling the sounds of the children’s voices and sealing them in with the faint fragrance of cherry tobacco.
Room for Hope Page 34
