Hearts Aglow

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Hearts Aglow Page 23

by Tracie Peterson


  “How is it that you knew these things?” he asked. “I reckon I’m hearin’ God more than ever. I see things in my mind that reflect things He’s showin’ me through His Word. But you’ve acted like you’ve known about us since before you even got here.”

  She laughed lightly. “I suppose I have – at least, in part. I knew since I was young that God wanted me to be a preacher’s wife. I have done everything in my power to work toward that day. I’ve studied the Word of God and obtained my education in a school run by the church. Everything about my life has revolved around learning to be a helpful mate to a pastor. When I felt the time was right to come and help my father for the purpose of furthering my training, God laid it on my heart that I would meet my husband here – that he might not seem at first like the man God was bringing into my life, but that I should trust and wait upon the Lord.”

  Rob shook his head. “That’s mighty amazin’. I can’t help but feel the hair on my neck give rise.”

  She nodded. “I felt the same way when I first met you. I knew that we would one day be together. I suppose that sounds very presumptuous, but it’s the truth. I’m not prideful in this – merely firm in my faith. If God wants this marriage to take place, it will.”

  He reached out and put his hand on her cheek. “I will come back to you a better man. I promise that. Will you promise to wait for me?”

  She surprised him by touching her hand to his cheek. “I will wait, just as I’ve been waiting. I am yours, Robrecht Vandermark. I will always belong to you.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Rob had been gone only three days when word came that a terrible storm had hit the Gulf Coast. There was no way of telling exactly how powerful the hurricane was, but the information given the town of Perkinsville suggested it might well bring rain and wind their way.

  “Arjan said the depot master said the telegram was brief but to the point. The storm looks to be heading this direction and it is still quite powerful. They’re to get the trains north and out of harm’s way,” Mother declared.

  “Did they say where the storm hit land?” Deborah asked. She couldn’t help but think of Christopher and his brother in Indianola.

  “No. Just that it hit and was moving fast. I’ll feel better if we take precautions,” Mother told Deborah. “I know Arjan thought me silly for wanting those shutters. I can still hear him saying that there wasn’t another house in all of Perkinsville with such luxuries.”

  “He ought to be glad for them now,” Deborah replied. “I remember once before when we had to replace nearly every window on the south side after a hail and windstorm.”

  “Oh, I know he’s glad for them now.”

  Deborah helped her mother begin the task of closing the shutters. Uncle Arjan caught the train to the logging camp, and G.W.was busy securing the livestock and outbuildings. Lizzie and Sissy went to work preparing lunch.

  The waiting was always the hardest part. The storm would never give them as much grief here as it did on the coast, but they could still experience tornadoes and wind damage, harming areas that weren’t in the path of the original storm.

  “Let’s put Lula and her pups on the back porch,” Mother told G.W. “That should keep them safe enough.” G.W. nodded and headed back outside.

  “I’ll get the last of the second-floor shutters,” Deborah told her mother. She hurried upstairs and went to the far end bedrooms first. The windows, being new, opened easily and Deborah was able to lean out and draw the shutters together without any trouble. As she progressed to the windows in the older part of the house, however, Deborah encountered more difficulty. She soaped a couple of the window’s tracks to ease the tension; growing humidity had swelled the wood a bit and made for a tighter fit. At last she finished up in her own bedroom, grateful to have the task completed. The coming storm filled her with a sense of dread.

  Christopher was in Indianola on the Matagorda Bay. While Deborah had no way of knowing exactly what the storm would do, she knew Christopher was at risk, simply because he was now on the coast. What if there had been no warning for him?

  “Are you all right?” Lizzie asked from the doorway.

  Deborah turned and met her friend’s worried expression. “I’m afraid for Christopher. He’s in Indianola, or I presume he’s still there. Perhaps the trial has already taken place and he’s long gone. I have no hope of knowing.”

  “I’m sorry. I know that must grieve you.”

  “It’s the waiting and the not knowing,” Deborah replied. She moved across the room and opened a blanket chest. “I know I must give it over to the Lord, but it’s so hard.”

  “Out of your control, eh?”

  Lizzie’s comment didn’t offend her; Deborah knew her friend was right. Taking a stack of blankets from the chest, Deborah straightened. “I suppose I always feel better when I have some hand in the solution.” She shook her head. “All of my life I’ve been like that.”

  “Taking charge isn’t always a bad thing, Deborah, but sometimes it’s best to let others handle their messes. God will guide Christopher.”

  “I know He will.” She let out a heavy sigh and shifted the bedding. “I just wish I could know what has happened. It’s a terrible thing to be here safe and sound, knowing that Christopher and his brother might well be injured or even dead.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble,” Lizzie reminded her. “Give it over to God. He has a plan in all of this, and like you used to tell me, His plan is always better than those we have for ourselves.”

  Deborah tried to let the words calm her spirit. “I shall continue to pray and hope for the best.”

  “Do you need help with the blankets?”

  “No,” Deborah replied. “Mother wants them in the extra bedrooms. The loggers will come and stay here until the storm passes. It wouldn’t do for them to live in the tents during such a time.”

  “No, I can’t imagine staying there in good weather, much less bad.” Lizzie came to Deborah and smiled. “God is in control of everything. Here . . . in Indianola . . . in the middle of the storm, itself. He will see you through this. Dr. Clayton, too.”

  Deborah tried to take solace in Lizzie’s words. “I know you’re right. I know there is nothing I can do, but oh, how I wish it could be otherwise.”

  By noon the skies darkened and the air hung heavy, but so far there were no other signs of the storm. Deborah hugged herself and rubbed her arms as if chilled. She felt so anxious, and yet nothing had changed. The storm was not here – perhaps would never come – but she could sense the possibility of it, and that proved enough to make her uncomfortable.

  Her life felt the same way right now. She could see the threat of turmoil on the horizon – feel the tension that came with the uncertainty – yet she was perfectly safe. Why couldn’t she just rest in that?

  “Would you help me make corn bread?” Mother asked.

  Deborah put away the last of the dinner dishes before answering. “Of course. Are we making extra, in case the weather turns destructive?”

  “Yes. I thought it would be a good idea. Arjan is concerned that we may lose a number of trees if the winds pick up. The turpentine harvest always weakens them, you know. If that happens, they’ll have to strike camp where they’re working now and head farther away to harvest any fallen pines. He wants to have plenty of provisions to take with them if that happens.”

  Sissy had already been hard at work on baking corn bread, but she happily relinquished the task to Euphanel and Deborah in order to help Lizzie with the children. By late afternoon, enough corn bread sat cooling that the men could easily be gone a week without needing additional provisions. “We have plenty of hams they can take with them, too,” Mother said, bringing in a wooden crate. “Let’s put the bread into the cloth sacks we saved and load it all in this crate to keep it from crumbling too bad. Don’t bother to cut it into squares; the fellas can take care of that themselves.”

  The sweltering temperatures of the summer kitchen left Deborah damp with s
weat. She assembled the sacks of corn bread while her mother checked the stew she’d prepared for supper. The first drops of rain began pelting the window as Deborah loaded the last of the bread.

  “I guess it’s starting,” Mother said, looking out the door.

  Joining her mother, Deborah watched the storm move in with thick and swirling clouds. The wind picked up, driving the rain down a little harder. Still, there was no real relief from the heat. “I guess we’d best get things into the house.”

  Lizzie came out the side door about that time. “Do you need help?”

  Mother motioned her over to them. “You and Deborah take the bread in, and I’ll get the stew for our supper. G.W. has already seen to bringing in some of the hams from the smokehouse.”

  Lizzie and Deborah each took an end of the crate and lifted. “Who knew corn bread could be so heavy,” Lizzie said with a grunt.

  By the time they had secured everything in the main house, the rain was beating down in earnest. Mother paced the floor until Arjan showed up with the loggers.

  “I feel better knowing we’ll all be under one roof,” she said as the men started to file in, dripping wet.

  Deborah handed out towels and couldn’t help but smile at her mother’s comment. That must have been how Noah felt as he gathered his family in the ark. The idea gave her a moment of amusement as she imagined their house turning into a large ship and sailing away.

  “I ain’t seen you smile since Dr. Clayton went away,” G.W. said, coming alongside her.

  “There hasn’t been a whole lot to smile about. Still isn’t, what with the uncertainty of this storm.”

  “Can’t do anythin’ more about the storm. As for the doc, I can’t imagine he’ll stay away long – not when I remember how he looked at you. He’s just as gone over you as you are with him.”

  Deborah shrugged. “I thought so, too. Now I’m not so sure.” She looked at her brother. “I can understand better than anyone the need to help your family. He knows that. But there were still so many secrets between us. I always felt like he was hiding parts of himself from me.”

  “Why do you reckon he would do that?” G.W. asked.

  “I think . . . perhaps Christopher has fears.”

  G.W. looked at her oddly. “Fears of what?”

  “Girls, would you set the table for supper?” Mother asked as she passed by. “Put out ten extra places.”

  “Of course, Mother.” Giving her brother a shrug, Deborah followed Lizzie into the dining room and took out the plates and silver from the sideboard.

  “What were you and G.W. talking about?” Lizzie questioned.

  “He asked me about Christopher. The talk led to why I felt Christopher remained so guarded with me.”

  “And what conclusion did you arrive at?” Lizzie asked, arranging silver at each place setting.

  “I think he was afraid of my reaction to the truth. Maybe he’s afraid that if I know the details about him or his family, I’ll want nothing more to do with him. After he told me about his brother’s murder trial and the fact that two other brothers were in jail for robbery, he looked at me as if expecting me to flee any second.”

  Deborah paused for a moment to count the place settings. She needed two more and went to the sideboard for additional plates. “I haven’t told anyone this, but when I read the letter asking him to come and help his brother, there was something that was most curious. His brother didn’t have the same last name. Instead of Clayton, his given name was Kelleher.”

  “That is strange. Do you suppose his mother was married to someone else when she bore Christopher?”

  “I thought of that possibility. He’s never said anything, though. I suppose it’s part of the mystery.” Deborah stopped at the table and grew thoughtful. “That would make a lot of sense. If Christopher was the son of, say, someone disreputable – then he wouldn’t want anyone to know about it. He might have never even known the man. Mr. Clayton could have married his mother later on and become a father to him.”

  “And it would be even worse if his mother and father divorced,” Lizzie said in a hushed voice. “Think of the scandal.”

  Deborah nodded. “I’d never really thought of the possibility until now. It does make sense, however. He is the eldest.”

  Somehow, such thoughts served to comfort Deborah. Not because she wanted Christopher to have endured such a life, but if it were true, it would explain a great deal.

  She pondered her discussion with Lizzie throughout supper and said very little. Deborah was so absorbed in her thoughts that even Jake gave up trying to talk to her. By the time supper had concluded, it had been raining for over an hour, the winds howling and the house nearly shaking at times.

  “Guess this breaks the drought,” Jake said, shaking his head. “A little too late to help my family, but hopefully it’ll be a blessin’ to someone.”

  “It’s a blessing here, for sure,” Mother said. “The moisture will keep down the fire hazards with the trees, and we can definitely use it for crops and the animals.”

  “It’ll make working tough,” G.W. said. “The roads and paths are difficult enough, but when they turn to mud, it’s nigh on impossible to travel ’em.”

  Arjan nodded. “Givin’ a listen to that wind, I’m figurin’ we’ll have enough downed trees to keep us busy for a spell. We’ll need to take all the mules with us when we head out. No doubt we’ll have to skid logs back aways to reach the railroad siding.”

  “We can probably do some loads on the wagons – iffen the roads ain’t too bad,” Warren offered. “ ’Course, G.W. may be right. They might be nothin’ but mud by the time we get there.”

  “The storm should pass in the night, and tomorrow we’ll be ready to face whatever comes,” Arjan said. “Until then, no sense borrowin’ trouble.”

  After the men headed out in the morning, Euphanel and Lizzie stood on the front porch with Deborah and surveyed the yard. There were a few downed branches, some shingles that had been torn off the barn roof, and a few outdoor articles that had been tossed around by the wind.

  “It could have been much worse,” Euphanel said, grateful that none of her windows had suffered damage. The cost of glass was nearly unreasonable, and she had no desire to go replacing windows after just a few months of use.

  “Was Uncle Arjan going to send word back to let us know how bad the damage in the camp might be?” Deborah asked.

  “He said he would try.”

  “I want to head into town and see how they are faring there. I’ll bet Jael will be glad they all headed back to Philadelphia last Monday when she hears of the storm. She said they were planning to return in another month or so and stay in Houston permanently, but maybe after this, they’ll change their minds. After all, Houston could have been hit quite hard,” Deborah said, unfastening her apron.

  “I pray not.” Euphanel tried to conceal her concern.

  “G.W. mentioned that Mr. Perkins is to have a house for Stuart and Mr. Longstreet in town so that when they come on business, they will have a place to stay,” Lizzie added.

  “They seem intent on becoming active partners in the sawmill.” Euphanel didn’t want to worry about the implications of such an arrangement. Arjan had told her that Zed was worried about some of the changes the two Easterners wanted to make. Apparently they each had equal votes on how things would be done, and with Mr. Longstreet and Mr. Albright agreeing on most things, Euphanel could only guess what might happen.

  “Do you want to come to town with me, Mother?”

  She looked at Deborah a moment, then nodded. “I believe I will. It would be good to check on folks and see how they fared. Good to let them know how we are, as well.” She held her hand out. “I’ll take your apron if you want to go hitch up the carriage. The boys took our wagon.”

  Deborah gave her the apron and headed down the steps. “Lizzie,” she called over her shoulder, “if you need anything from town, just make us a list.”

  Euphanel smiled at her
daughter-in-law. “Yes, we can pick up whatever you need – if the store is still standing.”

  On their drive, Euphanel could see that Deborah was fretful.

  “I wish you wouldn’t worry so,” she told her daughter. “Worry won’t change a thing.”

  “I know,” Deborah said focusing on the road. “It’s hard though. I have no way of knowing if Christopher is safe.”

  “But God knows, and He’s with Christopher, just as He is with us.”

  “Do you suppose I could send a telegram to Indianola?” Deborah asked suddenly. “I mean, I could just send it to the sheriff there and ask that it be forwarded to Christopher. Since his brother is in jail, surely the law officials would know where Christopher was staying. It can’t be that big of a town.”

  Euphanel could hear desperation in her daughter’s voice. She put her hand on Deborah’s arm. “I think that would be a good idea.”

  “Thank you for understanding. I can hardly stand not knowing.”

  “I do understand,” Euphanel assured. “I’ve been wondering about Rob and whether Houston sustained damage.”

  Deborah pulled back on the reins. “I’m so sorry, Mother. I’ve been quite selfish in my concern. It never came to mind that Rob might be in danger, even when I mentioned Jael.”

  “We shall pray for both of them, Deborah. God has them in His hands, and I refuse to give in to the seeds of doubt the devil sows. In time, we shall know the truth, and when our answers come, we must know where our faith is fixed. Otherwise, we’ll be tossed about, just like the tree branches in the wind.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The air near town smelled of smoke, and while it was generally stale with dust and the scent of woodsmoke, this was different. A stiff breeze from the southwest moved most of the haze off to the northeast, but it was still evident that something was terribly wrong.

 

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