Echoes of Mercy: A Novel

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Ollie placed the jug on the table. She stood frozen in place as he moved slowly toward her. He stopped within arm’s reach and smiled—a sweet smile as tender as a caress. “Then maybe I should take your mind off supper for a few minutes. Give you a chance to collect yourself. Hmm?”

  “Y-yes. Perhaps.”

  “Very well. Let me tell you my purpose in coming here this evening.”

  Her mouth felt dry. She wished she could take a sip of the cider.

  “I wanted to tell you you’ve done an exemplary job at the factory.”

  She forced a weak smile. “Thank you.”

  “As difficult as it was for you to leave the bureau, I believe you’ve enjoyed the opportunities your new position has afforded you.”

  He was right. She loved seeing the young people blossom as they gained knowledge, and she held no regrets about trading her investigator job for the one at the factory.

  “I feel as though we’ve become a team, working together to improve the conditions for the workers.”

  She felt the same way. She offered a nod.

  “I can’t imagine losing you as a partner.”

  She lowered her head, longing sweeping through her. Hadn’t she told God if her purpose in crossing paths with Ollie was to help him establish a relationship with his Father, it was enough? But hadn’t she also admitted a desire for more? That desire now created an ache in the center of her breast. How much longer would she be able to continue working for him, serving as a manager in his factory, when their employee-to-employer relationship wasn’t enough? “Ollie, I—”

  “You’re fired.”

  She jerked her gaze to meet his. “Wh-what?”

  Ollie squared his shoulders. “That’s right. Your job at the factory is finished, so … you’re fired.”

  “Ollie!” She stamped her foot. Only Lesley’s presence prevented her from planting her heel on his toes. “You just said you couldn’t imagine losing me as a partner! But now you’re letting me go?”

  “As the environmental safety manager, yes. But”—he stepped forward and captured her in his arms—“I have another position I’d like you to fill.”

  Stiff within the circle of his arms, she gave a derisive humph. “And what is that?”

  “My wife.”

  Her eyes flew wide open. Her muscles wilted. She eased into his embrace. “Your … your wife?”

  “That is, if you’ll have me.” He drew her even closer, the pressure of his strong hands on her spine sending tingles of awareness to her scalp. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye, Carrie, but I love you. My happiest moments have been with you. I want you by my side from now until our final breaths. Will you marry me?”

  She drew in a slow breath, savoring the sweet moment of acceptance. He loved her. He wanted her in his life. His proclamations were a gift beyond description. Her hands curved over his shoulders, and her lips parted, eager to accept his proposal.

  But he stepped away, lifting one finger. “One moment, please.” Under Caroline’s and Lesley’s puzzled gazes, he stepped to the platter holding the broken chunks of fried trout. Realizing what he was about to do, Caroline held her breath. He pinched a piece and poked it into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed.

  He turned to her with a satisfied smile on his face. “Now that I’ve determined I won’t starve, feel free to answer.”

  Caroline’s breath released on a note of laughter. Lesley covered his mouth and giggled. Caroline winked at the boy, then moved toward Ollie, shaking her head. He opened his arms, his eyes shining with love and mischief. Life with Ollie would certainly never be dull. “Yes, Ollie. My answer is yes.”

  He let out a whoop and scooped her from the floor. She clung to his neck, her laughter spilling as freely as the happy tears coursing down her face.

  He lowered her until her soles met the floor. His hands cupped her cheeks and tilted her face to him, and then his lips descended in a kiss salty from the trout. She licked her lips and murmured, “Mm, I am a good cook.”

  And Ollie’s laughter filled the room.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for taking this fictitious journey with Carrie, Ollie, and the other residents of Sinclair, Kansas. Although this story is a product of my active imagination, some elements of truth are hidden amid the pages.

  During the Industrial Age, many children were sent to work to help support their families. The workday was long, and jobs were often unsafe and unhealthy for young workers. By 1900 more than 10 percent of Kansas children between the ages of ten and fifteen were employed in agriculture, manufacturing, and domestic service. Kansas law required that all children between the ages of eight and fourteen had to go to school for at least twelve weeks a year, but often work prevented children from attending school.

  Investigators, sent by the Bureau of Labor, either openly or secretly collected data concerning safety practices within different industries. These investigators were rarely welcomed since employers found it financially beneficial to keep children, who earned lower wages than adults, on their employment rosters.

  Thanks to the diligence of some of these investigators as well as other citizens who believed children needed to obtain an education, changes came. In 1905, Kansas passed a law that prohibited children under the age of fourteen from working in factories, meat-packing houses, or mines. This law affected nearly two thousand Kansas children, who were released from employment to attend school. Not until 1917 were national child labor laws passed.

  Ollie’s school in Dinsmore’s World-Famous Chocolates Factory wasn’t far from the truth. On-site training for workers was once common. In the early and mid-1900s, factories offered a variety of apprenticeships and training programs targeting students as young as fourteen. In some factories, in addition to learning the skills necessary for specific jobs within the factory, attendees also learned to read, write, and perform basic math skills to help them to be more effective workers. Of course, this learning also benefited the students outside of the factory.

  Child labor laws and the types of jobs available to young people have changed, but one very important thing remains the same—each person’s need for fulfillment. Just as Ollie admitted to possessing an empty place in the center of his soul that nothing of the world seemed to satisfy, we all carry a deep need for a Savior. If you haven’t yet discovered the joy and eternal fulfillment a relationship with God through Jesus Christ can bring, I pray you’ll reach out for the Savior’s hand. He’s already reaching for you. When you take hold, you’ll discover a peace beyond description, and every longing will be filled.

  May God bless you muchly as you journey with Him!

  In His love,

  Kim

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Don, Mom and Daddy, my sweet girls, and my quiverful of grandjoys—Thank you for walking this writing pathway with me! Your support, encouragement, and love keeps me moving forward. I love you all muchly!

  My awesome critique group—Thanks for churning through the chapters with me! You bless me more than you know.

  Choir members from FSBC—How I appreciate your prayers! Thank you for your steadfast support.

  Steve Conard—Thanks for your presentation on Hutchinson history and mentioning the “chocolate factory mystery.” You planted the seed for this story, and I am grateful!

  Pat and Joan Conner—Our “chance” meeting and your willingness to share your Otis elevator with me added such a delightful touch to the Dinsmore factory. Thank you for your kindness to a couple of strangers in town.

  Shannon and the team at WaterBrook—What a joy to work with you in bringing these imaginary friends and cities to life. Thank you for your diligent efforts to make the stories shine.

  Finally, and most importantly, God—You take our dark times, give them a buff and polish, and make them a part of our brightest accomplishments. Thank You for filling me with Your strength, wisdom, and love. I’m never without hope because of You. May any praise or glory be reflected d
irectly back to You.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  1. As an investigator, Caroline is sometimes put into a position of needing to hide the truth, but as a Christian, she found this necessity difficult. Have you ever been faced with an ethical dilemma in your workplace? How did you handle it?

  2. Caroline stubbornly refused to enter the place that she viewed as the source of her childhood trauma. How did holding on to the pain of her past prevent her from truly living in freedom as an adult? How do we overcome the scars that hinder us?

  3. Oliver didn’t believe God listened to prayer because his prayer for healing for Mr. Holcomb was denied. Kesia likened God’s “no” answer to the wise decision of a parent refusing a child something he shouldn’t have. Do you believe God knows best? Do you trust Him even when He denies you something you want deeply? How do we maintain our faith in the face of “no” answers?

  4. Letta chose to run away rather than trust someone to help her, with disastrous results. Yet one good came of it—Lank discovered his abilities and a source of courage. Have you ever uncovered a positive result in the midst of an unwise decision? Have you seen it as happenstance or as God’s means of crafting something good from the ashes of our lives?

  5. Both Gordon Hightower and Caroline had experienced difficult childhoods. Gordon chose to become a bully rather than be bullied; Caroline chose to help those who were hurting. Why did one strike out at others and one reach out to others? How are you using the painful parts of your past to weave something positive today?

  6. When Caroline was frustrated by Dinsmore’s refusal to believe her story about Hightower, Noble advised her with these words: “Dear one, in this life we will encounter people … who follow their own pathway instead of the one deigned by God.… Instead of being angry with these men, we should pity them. They’re lost. They need our prayers.” Are there people in your circle of acquaintanceship who have chosen a pathway other than the one God would approve? Do you respond to them in anger or frustration, or do you lift them up in prayer? How can we find the compassion to pray for those who frustrate us?

  7. Matthew 11:28 says, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” What burdens are you carrying? What steps will you take to release them into the arms of the One waiting to give you rest?

  Chicago, Illinois, 1883

  Dinah

  Dinah Hubley curled her arms around the coal bucket, hunched her shoulders to make herself as small as possible, and then dashed for the kitchen. The odors of stale tobacco, unwashed bodies, and stout whiskey assaulted her nose. Each time she made this trek through the waiting room, she tried to hold her breath. The smell made her want to give back her meager lunch. But weaving between the haphazard arrangement of mismatched sofas and chairs, all draped with lounging men, took longer than her lungs could last. So she sucked air through her clenched teeth and did her best to make it through the room without being stopped.

  No such luck. A man reached out from one of the overstuffed chairs and snaked his arm around her waist. Dinah released a shrill yelp as he tugged her backward across the armrest and into his lap. Lumps of coal spilled over the bucket’s rim and left black marks on the bodice of her faded calico dress. But she was worried about more than her only dress being soiled.

  Keeping her grip on the bucket, she pushed against the man’s chest with her elbow. He held tight and laughed against her cheek. “Hey, what’s your hurry, darlin’? Stay here an’ let ol’ Max enjoy you for a bit.”

  His foul breath made bile rise in her throat. She rasped, “Please let me go, mister. I have to get the coal to the cook.”

  Max plucked the bucket from her arms and held it toward a lanky man who’d sauntered over. “Take the coal to the kitchen for this little gal, Jamie. Free her up for some time with me.”

  Jamie took the bucket and set it aside. Then he caught Dinah’s arm and gave such a yank she feared her arm would be wrenched from its socket. Max lost his grip, and to her great relief, her feet met the floor. She would have stumbled had Jamie not kept hold, and a thread of gratitude wove its way through her breast.

  She regained her footing and offered the man a timid smile. “Th-thank you, mister.”

  Jamie’s eyes glittered. Dinah knew that look. She tried to wriggle loose, but his fingers bit hard while his thumb rubbed up and down the tender flesh on the back of her arm. He leaned down, his whiskered face leering. “How about ya show me instead of tellin’ me. Gimme a kiss.” He puckered up.

  Dinah crunched her eyes closed, her stomach churning in revulsion.

  Then an intruding voice snapped, “Jamie Fenway, if you want to keep coming around here and making use of my girls, you’d better let loose of that one.” Relief sagged Dinah’s legs when she realized the proprietress of the Yellow Parrot had entered the room.

  The man released Dinah with an insolent shove, sending her straight against Miss Flo’s ample front. Barrel-shaped and as strong as most men, the woman didn’t even flinch. Taking hold of Dinah’s upper arms, she set her upright, then turned her kohl-enhanced glare on Jamie and Max. “How many times do I have to tell you fellas ‘no free sampling’? Everything you want is waiting upstairs, but until you’ve paid, you keep your hands, your lips, and whatever else you might be tempted to use to yourself.”

  The men waiting their turns with Miss Flo’s girls laughed uproariously. One of them wisecracked, “Besides, Jamie, that one you grabbed ain’t hardly worth stealin’ a pinch. If she was a striped bass, I’d throw her back!” More guffaws and sniggers rang.

  Jamie’s eyes traveled up and down Dinah’s frame. “Even the smallest fish tastes plenty good when it’s fresh.”

  Dinah hugged herself, wishing she could shrink away to nothing.

  Miss Flo grabbed a handful of Dinah’s hair and gave a harsh yank. “What are you doing, carting coal through the waiting room, anyway? I don’t want that mess in my parlor.”

  A few smudges of coal dust would hardly be noticed amid the years’ accumulation of tobacco stains and muddy prints on the worn carpet. But Dinah ducked her head and mumbled meekly, “I’m sorry, Miss Flo.”

  “I know you’re sorry, but that doesn’t answer my question.” Miss Flo’s voice was as sharp as the teacher’s—the one who berated Dinah for wearing the same dress to school every day and checked her head for lice in front of the whole class. “We’ve got a back door to the kitchen. Why didn’t you use it?”

  Dinah winced and stood as still as she could to keep her hair from being pulled from her scalp. “I couldn’t get in through the back. The door’s blocked.”

  “By what?”

  Miss Flo’s newest girl, Trudy, liked to meet one of the deputies on the back stoop. He was so tall, Trudy had to stand on the stoop for their lips to meet. The image of them pressed so tight together seared Dinah’s memory. But she wouldn’t tattle.

  When Dinah didn’t answer, Miss Flo growled and released her hair with another vicious yank. “Get that coal out of here.”

  Dinah bent over to grab the handle on the discarded bucket.

  Miss Flo kicked her in the rear end, knocking her on her face. “And don’t let me see you traipsing through this room again. Next time I might not be around to stop the fellas from taking their pleasure from you.” She stepped over Dinah, the full layers of her bold yellow skirt rustling. “All right, fellas, how about some music while you wait?” Men cheered and whistled. Miss Flo, her smile wide, plopped onto the upright piano’s round stool and began thumping out a raucous tune. Drunken voices raised in song.

  Dinah scrambled to her feet, grabbed the coal bucket, and raced from the room.

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