West From Fair Hill (A Refuge in Fair Hill Book 3)

by Faith Elizabeth Cummings

  “That’s not too old if you’re healthy, and physically, you are. You may be a bit weak right now, because of your illness, but that can be dealt with in time.”

  “I don’t know if I can, can, be a true wife to Alan.” she said hesitantly, and a blush stained her pale cheeks.

  “We can think about that once you’re well.” Alan said with a smile.

  ‘We can see how you are physically, once we help you deal with the emotional scars.” Doc told her, his eyes full of understanding. “But I don’t foresee any physical difficulties.”

  “This is a huge breakthrough, Sheila, and I think you will recover now.”

  “Thank you for coming all the way from Fair Hill,” she said. “I don’t understand either you or Molly coming here to help me, but I do appreciate it.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he said. “I’m sure Molly feels as I do.” He rose then, and left them to their talk, certain that now she would regain her health.

  For the first time in her life, since her mother’s death, Sheila felt safe and cared for. She was mystified to find that there was no judgment in Alan’s face, only love and caring. When her tears had subsided, she pulled gently away, and gave him a soft smile.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said shakily.

  “No need to say anything, my dear,” he said still holding her loosely. “We can work all this out in our own time.”

  “My next question is about Fair Hill.” Why did you call them when I got sick?” she asked.

  “I knew Doc could help you and he knew that Molly would be the right person to help nurse you back to health.”

  “She’s really been here all this time, taking care of my every need?” she asked, after a pause.

  “Yes, she’s been like a mother to you. No one could be more gentle and compassionate.”

  “See, and I don’t understand how I deserve that, after the way I’ve always felt about Fair Hill.”

  “NO one up there holds that against you.” He told her. “They’re all praying for you and the family out west is too.”

  “And that doesn’t make sense either. I made it very hard for them at first.”

  “Yes, but they’re together now and happy. They have a family and a good strong Meeting.”

  “Does Barbara keep in touch with you then?”

  “Yes, often.”

  “Does she have children?”

  “Yes, they have one child that they adopted and five others. There are five girls and one boy.”

  “Do you have pictures?”

  “Yes, a few sketches that Paul drew. He is a good artist. He wants to get a camera when he can, but for now, he has his pencils and some paints.” As he spoke, he rose from his chair.

  “I’ll be back in a minute, if you want to see them.”

  “Yes, please get them.” she said and he left to get them from his room.

  When he returned, Sheila had risen from the bed, and seated herself in a chair near the window for better light. He handed her a small book, filled with pictures, each of which had a caption under it to identify what it contained. She slowly turned the pages, seeing the familiar faces of Barbara and Paul, and the happy faces of their children. Toward the back, there were other adults, with their families, evidently members of the Meeting.

  “Do you know all of these adults?” she asked Alan as she handed him the book.

  “Yes, I met them before they went west. They were all young couples then, but now they are older and have children just like the Becker family. “I’ve shared this with Paul’s family in Fair Hill too.”

  “So you still see them as well?”

  “Yes, I go up to visit, and sometimes go to meeting.” He admitted. “And every time I go, they ask how you are.” “Once you get to know them, you won’t think it’s so strange,” he told her.

  At that moment, the dinner gong sounded and Sheila went with Alan to the table in the dining room.

  “I’m glad you’re up and about.” Molly said as Alan seated Sheila and then himself.

  “It feels good to be here again,” she replied.

  “You look so much better,” Molly added, passing some of the dishes to her. Sheila served herself and passed them on.

  “I feel better too. Thanks for being there for me earlier, and for everything else you’ve been doing to help.”

  “You are very welcome.” Molly answered with a warm smile. “I am glad to help.”

  “I wonder if we could talk after dinner.” Sheila continued when everyone was served and eating.

  “Of course we can.” Molly agreed.

  They finished the meal in a companionable silence.

  When they had finished, and the table had been cleared, Sheila spoke to Molly as they left the dining room.

  “I wonder if we could talk for a few minutes in the library?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Of course,” Molly agreed and she followed Sheila into the cozy room.

  Alan went to his study to give them some privacy and to mull over his earlier talk with Sheila. He understood so much more now of why she was the person she was, and that she wanted to change. What would the next few days and weeks bring, he wondered, as he sat at his desk, his chin resting on his hand. He understood so much more, and her father, a man he had respected and admired, was no longer understandable. What he had done to his daughter was unacceptable. She was still paying the price for his arrogant disregard for her. He wondered if she would ever fully recover from these long years of self-loathing and shame. She was a beautiful woman, even more so now that Alan knew all she had been through and endured. He wondered if he could ever convince her that He loved her anyway, and that she had done nothing wrong. He looked around the office and noticed the many volume journal that Sheila’s father had kept all his life. He wondered if he really had known Sheila’s father as well as he thought. For the first time in his life in this house, Alan wanted to read those journals and find out more about him. He took down the first volume, opened to the first page, and began reading. Part of what he read, he already knew. Nathaniel Whittington, Sheila’s father, had been apprentice to Spencer Yates, who had been one of the most famous architects of his time. According to the book, Nathaniel learned a great deal from Mr. Yates, and like Alan, he fell in love with the daughter of the house. Her name was Theodora, and Alan remembered seeing her in the early days of his work with Nathaniel. She was a beautiful woman, tall and imperious like Sheila, yet there was a sweetness about her now and then that made it clear she was not always like that. Theodora died soon after Sheila was ten. Nathaniel wrote briefly about it in the second volume of the journal. Alan was mentioned here too, and was surprised to find his remarks favorable. But he said little about his daughter Sheila. And what he did say, was written as if she were almost one of the servants. In the beginning of the third volume, started a year or two after Sheila’s mother’s death, he admitted raping his daughter, not once but many times and that he no longer thought of her as his child. Alan noticed his hands were shaking, and he put down the book, wishing he knew how to deal with the anger surging through him. Some of the experiences he had had at the Fair Hill meeting came to his rescue. He began to concentrate on centering down and soon found that he grew calmer and more able to think rationally. Sheila needed care and love, but not from those who did not know her and love her. He would be the one to help her work through these awful experiences and come back to herself. He knew as surely as he knew anything that he could not do it alone. He would need help from God and from others who could show her that same selfless love. He decided to talk to Doc about it the following day when he came to see Sheila.

  4

  Meanwhile, in the library, Molly and Sheila had taken places near one another and were sitting in silence. Molly, as was her habit at such times, was centering down and praying for the Holy Spirit to guide her as she talked to Sheila, and minister to them both. Sheila was hesitant to speak. she had many questions and concerns, but was unclear as to
how to begin. Finally, with a sigh, she spoke.

  “Molly, why did you come here, and do all of this for me?”

  “Because I am a Christian, and I believe in helping those who need help when I can. You have been completely unable to care for yourself, Sheila, and when Doc told me about you, and your situation, I was led to help.”

  “Led by whom?”

  “By the Holy Spirit.” Molly answered.

  “I don’t understand. Why would you or anyone from Fair Hill want to help me or anyone from Newport?”

  “We have a lot of friends in Newport,” Molly replied. “Some even attend meeting now and then.”

  “But they probably deserve your help.”

  “__And so do you.” Molly said firmly. “There is no reason I should help others and not you.”

  “Yes, you know a little about my past with Alan and with his niece so you know I do not deserve your help.”

  “You have made a few mistakes, perhaps, but everyone on this earth has made mistakes in their lives. The only one who never did was Jesus.”

  “I never believed in Jesus,” Sheila admitted. “I have been through some awful things. And I always believed that if Jesus were real, he would keep those things from happening to me, or anyone else.”

  “Jesus doesn’t always keep things from happening to us, and does not always keep others from doing evil to us. But He always gives us what we need to get through it.”

  “What did he give me?”

  “He gave you a fine husband who loves you and he gave you friends to take care of you when you could not take care of yourself.”

  Sheila was silent for a few moments, looking into the empty fireplace. Then she turned to face Molly again.

  “I have a few people here in Newport with whom I do things, fundraisers, banquets, etc. But I wouldn’t call them friends.”

  she said, confused.

  “No, they probably are not really friends. But you have me and you have Doc and you have a lot of folks in Fair Hill who care about you, genuinely care.”

  “That makes no sense to me.” Sheila protested. “Why should any of you count yourselves as my friends?” “Do you think you can get something out of it?”

  Molly could not hide a smile. This sounded more like the Sheila she had come to know from Barbara.

  “No, we do not want anything from you.” She said quietly. “We do not need anything you have.

  We just want to help you deal with this illness you seem to have.”

  “__Do you think I’m crazy?” Sheila felt defensive at Molly’s words.

  “No, I do not think you are crazy, as you put it. I do not believe anyone does.” We know that you are depressed, confuse, and maybe seeking. But there’s nothing wrong with any of those things.”

  “Seeking what?”

  “Seeking answers to the questions that disturb your thoughts.”

  Sheila looked down at the floor for a moment, and then met Molly’s gaze.

  “I do not think there are any answers for me.” she said hopelessly.

  “Yes, there is an answer for you. It’s Jesus.”

  “He would have told me before this if he had an answer for me. HE does not care about me.”

  “You’re wrong, Sheila. He does care about you. He loves you so much that he gave up his life for you on the cross.”

  “Not for me. Maybe for you.”

  “Yes, for me, and for you, and for everyone else in the world. All they have to do is accept him as their Lord and Savior.”

  “I’m not good enough, and never will be.”

  “None of us is good enough, Sheila, which is why there’s grace. Grace is what saves us all, and faith that God loves us as we are.”

  “I need to think about this,” Sheila said and Molly patted her hand.

  “No need to rush, take your time, he will be there when you’re ready.” “I have a question though, if you can answer it.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When you were so ill a few months ago, do you remember going out in the storm?”

  “Yes, vaguely,”

  “Do you know why you did that? Do you know what you were running from, or to?”

  “I was probably running from this house and all of the memories it has for me. Sometimes they crowd around me until I cannot breathe. Then I leave the house and keep busy until they pass.”

  “But you couldn’t do that in the past few months.”

  “No, and I’m not strong enough to do it now. I just get so frightened at times, like I’m surrounded by ghosts.”

  “__Maybe a change of scene would do you some good,” Molly suggested reflectively.

  “Maybe, but I don’t want to go to a hospital, and I still need a lot of help physically.”

  “Yes, you will for a while. But you need not go to a hospital. You could come to Fair Hill.”

  “I just have a hard time believing that anyone in Fair Hill would want me there.”

  “I would welcome you to my farm any time, and I am sure the Beckers would too. After all, your niece is married to their son.”

  Sheila said nothing and Molly could tell she was getting weary from all the day’s events.

  “You give it some thought.” She added gently. “I think some sleep would be a good idea.”

  “Yes, I’m very tired.” Sheila agreed. They went back to her room and Molly settled her in bed for the night.

  “Sleep well, and I’ll be nearby if you need anything.” Molly told her and then left her to rest.

  The sun coming through the lace curtains in her room woke Sheila the next morning.

  She felt more rested and refreshed, though still very weak. She rang the bell and Molly came to her aid.

  “Do you want breakfast here or do you feel like going down?” Molly asked, once Sheila was dressed and ready for the day.

  “I can go down,” she said, so they went down and found Alan at the table, eating his usual breakfast.

  “How are you, Sheila?” he asked, coming to hold her chair for her.

  “I’m feeling better,” she answered, giving him a rare smile. “I’m actually hungry.”

  “There’s plenty here to eat,” he said taking his place again.

  She served herself from the dishes and began to eat.

  Molly joined them too and was glad to see Sheila eating on her own, with evident enjoyment.

  “Did you sleep well last night after the day you had?” Alan asked.

  “Yes, I was very tired, and sleep came quickly.” she answered, pouring herself a second cup of tea.

  “I’m glad,” he said, passing the dishes her way again. She took second helpings and passed them to Molly.

  “I have not seen you eat like this for some time.” He added and it was evident to her that he truly was glad to see her getting better.

  “Molly says I should maybe leave the house for a while.” Sheila began after a pause, as she looked down the table at Alan.

  “We were talking about a change of scene.” Molly put in.

  “And where would you go?” Alan asked with interest.

  “Molly suggested Fair Hill.” What do you think?”

  “I think it would be a good thing.”

  “Would you come with me, Alan?” she asked after another hesitation.

  “If you want me to, yes, I would come with you gladly.” His smile was warm and she knew he was glad that she had asked.

  “I would feel better if you were there,” she told him honestly.

  “Would you like to come to my farm, or to the Beckers?” Molly asked. “Either way is fine for me, and I am sure they would welcome you.”

  “I think I would like to go to the Becker farm. They are family in a way.” Sheila said.

  Alan was surprised again, and wished Doc were here to hear this. “We can send word and find out if they could be ready for us today. But I imagine they could. They always seem to welcome people in without much of a problem.” Alan agreed.

  I am su
re it would be no problem. Amy has wanted to meet you for some time, and Andrew loves having folks in.” Molly said finishing her last bite.

  “I will go up and see that some things are packed for you, all right?”

  “Yes, thank you, Molly. Sheila answered. “I can be ready as soon as breakfast is over.”

  When the meal was finished, Alan and Sheila left the house with Molly and all of them got into the carriage. Alan remembered the night he took Barbara from this house and drove her to Fair Hill himself because no one else would do it. It had proven to be the best thing for Barbara and a life-changing event for him. He only hoped that it would work out as well for Sheila. He knew that she was the only one who could allow that to happen.

  Meanwhile, Sheila gazed about her at the summer landscape. Everything was lush and green and she was sure she had not seen anything more beautiful. The winter had been hard and long, and she had the feeling that she very well could have lost her life. But for some reason, she was spared, and she wondered if she would ever know why. What was she supposed to do with this second chance she had been given? She wished she knew. She noticed that they were now leaving Newport and that the carriage was climbing a bit as they went toward Fair Hill. She reflected that she had lived here all her life and had never taken this road.

  She saw some of the outlying farms coming into view now, and marveled at how well kept they were. These people evidently loved their land and cared for it well. There were sheep in the fields and dairy cattle as well. They looked well fed and well tended. Then came the village with its store, Meetinghouse and what was evidently Doc Wilson’s office. There was a post office in the general store and a school used the meetinghouse on weekdays. The houses here were also well built and beautifully kept. When they left the village, there were more farms on either side of the road. They dropped Molly off at one of these, and she promised to come and see them as soon as she could. Sheila watched her new friend walk up the path and wondered what she could do to thank Molly for all of her care.

  They continued until Alan asked the coachman to turn into a long driveway, bordered with pines.

  “This is the Becker Farm,” He told Sheila as the carriage stopped and they alighted. The coachman brought their things, and they walked up the path and onto the welcoming porch. Alan knocked on the door and it was soon opened by Andrew, who seemed happy to see him there.