The Tender Flame

by Al Lacy

  Please write to me at the address in the upper left-hand corner of the envelope. I want to know what’s going on in your life. Also, please greet your parents and brothers for me, and tell them I wish I could have seen them, too.

  I will look forward to hearing from you.

  Love,

  Josh

  Tears coursed down Jessica’s cheeks as she held the letter close to her heart.

  That evening after supper, the Smith family gathered on the front porch to enjoy the cool of the evening. The lowering sun gave off a vibrant orange light. Jessica pulled Josh’s letter out of her pocket, angled it toward the setting sun, and read it aloud. When she finished, everyone said how nice it was for her to renew her old friendship with Josh Cornell.

  Jessica’s gaze lingered on the word love above Josh’s signature.

  JESSICA STAYED UP PAST HER NORMAL BEDTIME to write to Josh. It was a chatty three-page letter, describing her return trip home from Fairfax and things about her church. Just before her trip to Fairfax, she had been asked to be an assistant teacher in a girls’ Sunday school class and was excited about the prospect.

  She also told him about her mother’s illness and the work she had taken on at home to alleviate her mother’s load.

  Although Jessica covered up her true feelings for Josh, she did tell him he would be in her prayers every day. She closed the letter by saying that she yearned to return to the West someday and see it all the way to the Pacific coast.

  Joshua Cornell’s heart quickened pace as the stagecoach topped the last hill before dropping down into Oregon City. He hadn’t been home since last summer and was eager to see his family and friends. It was August 4, a typically hot summer day. Earlier that morning the stage had passed two wagon trains that wouldn’t arrive in Oregon City for a couple of days yet.

  Josh leaned from the coach window and looked up the busy street, focusing on the Wells Fargo office. He could see his parents and Mary Ann. When the stage ground to a halt, the Wells Fargo agent was there to open the door. Josh was the first passenger to step out.

  Mary Ann rushed to him, wrapped her arms around him, and cried, “Oh, Josh, I’ve missed you so!”

  Josh held her tightly and kissed her forehead. “I’ve missed you, too, sister.”

  Next to embrace him was a sniffling Martha, trying not to cry. Josh kissed her cheek and said, “How’s the sweetest little mom in all the world?”

  “Fine, now that you’re home.”

  Father and son embraced, and in his husky, strained voice, Brett said, “Welcome home, son. I’ve sure missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Dad.”

  “We wish we could’ve been there for your graduation, son,” Martha said.

  “That would’ve been nice, but it just couldn’t be. How are Pastor and Mrs. Farrington?”

  “Quite well. They’re looking forward to seeing you.”

  Josh glanced at the family buggy parked on the street nearby. “I’ll grab my luggage, and we’ll be on our way. I can’t wait to sleep in my good ol’ bed tonight!”

  Father and son loaded the luggage in the back of the buggy, then helped the ladies into the rear seat. Brett climbed onto the rider’s side, saying, “You drive, Josh.”

  Josh started to climb in, then hesitated when he saw his mother’s face. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  Martha’s lips quivered and she looked down at the buggy floor.

  “What’s going on? A few minutes ago you all seemed happy to see me, and now all three of you look like you’d lost your best friend.”

  “Get in and sit down, son,” Brett said. “Believe me, all three of us are thrilled to have you home, but … well, we have some bad news.”

  Josh climbed into the buggy and took his seat. He set steady eyes on his father. “All right. What is it?”

  “It’s Dr. Clay Price. He died yesterday afternoon of heart failure. It hit him while he was working on a patient in his office, a lady you don’t know—Sarah Dunne. She and her husband moved here just a few months ago. Sarah called for Lydia, who was in the next room, but when Lydia got to him, he was dead.”

  Josh’s face lost color. “Aw, no. Heart failure. He was only what … forty-seven?”

  “Forty-eight,” Martha said. “The whole town is in shock. Dr. Price had never had any symptoms of heart trouble at all. It was so sudden.”

  Tears sprang to Josh’s eyes. “How’s Lydia taking it?”

  “Pretty hard,” Brett said. “Pastor Farrington and Madeline are with her now. They stayed in the house with her last night.”

  Josh raised his head and wiped tears from his cheeks. “This has got to be tough for her. Those two people were so good to me, always going out of their way to encourage me. They helped me with my tuition every year, and many times they wrote and sent money for anything I might need. Sent me three hundred dollars as a graduation present. I owe them so much. I—well, he’s in heaven now. I can’t do anything to pay him back. But whatever that dear lady needs, if it’s in my power to provide it, she’s got it.”

  “Josh,” Martha said, “Lydia knows you were to arrive today. We were at her house earlier this morning. She asked if you would come see her as soon as possible.”

  Josh picked up the reins. “Right now is possible.” As he pulled the buggy out into traffic, his dad put a hand on his arm.

  “Son, let’s do this,” Brett said. “Lydia shouldn’t have too many people in the house at once. Since we were there earlier, just drop Mary Ann and me off at the lumber mill. You can take Mom home, then go on over to Lydia’s house.”

  “All right.” Josh looked over his shoulder at his sister. “Mary Ann, I can’t get used to the idea that you’re out of school and working in the office at the mill. Seems like you should still be in first grade.”

  “We all have to grow up sometime,” she said with a grin.

  Josh turned at the next intersection and headed the buggy out of town eastward, toward the lumber mill.

  “I’ll tell all three of you about the graduation ceremonies later,” Josh said, “but there’s something I’d like to tell you right now. On my last Sunday before leaving for home, I preached at a church in Fairfax. After the service, I was shocked to see Jessica Smith. You remember Jessica … from Fort Union?”

  “Of course,” Brett said. “I imagine she’s all grown up now.”

  “Is she ever! I’m telling you, I would never have known her. She’s a beautiful young lady.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. She was a pretty girl when she was little.”

  “I assume she knew you,” Martha said.

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Are the Smiths living in Fairfax now?” Mary Ann asked.

  “No, they’re back in Montgomery Village.”

  “Why was Jessica at the church in Fairfax?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it tonight at supper.”

  Mary Ann leaned forward on her seat. “Did she say if she’s engaged or has a steady beau?”

  “No. But then we didn’t have very long to talk.”

  They left the outskirts of town and soon were at the lumber mill. While Josh helped his mother into the front seat, some of the lumbermen passed by and welcomed him home. He flashed a smile and told them it was good to see them again.

  Josh delivered his mother home, put the carriage in the barn and the horse in the small corral behind the house, and carried his luggage to his room. He kissed his mother’s cheek and said he would be back shortly, then headed the two blocks down the street to the Price home.

  He knocked on Lydia’s door and heard muffled footsteps; then the door swung open. “Josh!” Lester Farrington exclaimed.

  “Hello, Pastor!” Josh stepped through the door and embraced the older man. “It’s good to see you.”

  Farrington gripped the younger man by the upper arms. “It’s good to see you too, Josh. Everybody’s been looking forward to your becoming my assistant.”

  “Not as much as I ha
ve. How’s Lydia?”

  “She’s taking Clay’s death pretty hard. But she’s got a good grip on the Lord in it all. Or I should say the Lord has a good grip on her. Anyway, even though she’s shaken to the core, she shows signs of the Lord’s loving arms being around her. Come. She’s expecting you.”

  The Price house was two stories, with several bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs. Josh followed the pastor down the hall from the vestibule, past the parlor and dining room to a small sitting room. They could hear Madeline Farrington’s soft voice as the pastor pushed open the sitting room door.

  “Oh, Lydia, it’s Josh, all right,” Madeline said. She rose to her feet and gripped Josh’s hand. “It’s so nice to see you, Josh.”

  “You too, Mrs. Farrington.” Josh knelt in front of Lydia Price and took her hand. “I’m so sorry. My parents just told me what happened.”

  The sight of Josh brought fresh tears to Lydia’s eyes. “Thank you for coming so soon to see me. I know you just got off the stage.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else right now. You and Dr. Price have been special blessings to me. So special that I can’t even find the words to express it. I’m so sorry for what you are suffering.”

  “I won’t say it hasn’t been a shock, Josh. It has. And I’ll feel it more in a day or two. But the Lord has given me peace in my heart. Our wonderful God doesn’t make mistakes. Though Clay was still a young man—I have to say that because I’m almost forty-five—God had higher service for him. I miss him so much, but I can’t wish him back. What a dull and dismal place this world would be now, after he’s looked into the bright face of the Lord Jesus and had a glimpse of the glories of heaven.”

  “You’re so right,” Josh said. “We can’t wish him back, but we can look forward to the day when we meet him at heaven’s gates.”

  “Yes. Oh yes! What a glorious day that will be!”

  Madeline sat beside Lydia again and patted her arm.

  Lydia touched Madeline’s hand. “Josh, these two people have been such a strength to me. And so have your parents and Mary Ann.”

  “Lydia,” Pastor Farrington said, “why don’t you talk to Josh about … you know—”

  “Oh yes. Of course. Josh, I asked Pastor just a few minutes ago if you could have a part in the funeral service. He said that would be fine with him, if you want to. It’s set for tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”

  “Why … yes. I would be glad to.”

  “How about giving the eulogy?” Farrington said. “And after that, you offer prayer, all right? Then I’ll preach the message.”

  “I’ll be glad to,” Josh said. He said to Lydia, “You really honor me by letting me do this.”

  “I know Clay would want you to have a part in the service, Josh. He loved you very much. And so do I.”

  The funeral was held the next day, Friday, August 5. On Saturday morning, Lydia was eating breakfast with Sadie Bunch, an elderly widow from the church, who was staying with her for a few days. They were discussing the funeral and what a touching and comforting service Pastor Farrington and Josh Cornell had conducted, when there was a knock at the front door. Lydia went to answer it.

  “Well, hello, Josh. Please come in. Have you had breakfast? Sadie and I are just getting a good start. There’s plenty—”

  “I’ve already eaten, thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry to have interrupted your breakfast. I’ll come back later.”

  “No need for that. We both sort of slept in this morning, and we’re getting a late start. Come on back to the kitchen. I can talk and eat at the same time.”

  “Well, all right. If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not. Come on.”

  Josh greeted Sadie warmly, asking how her health had been. Then he thanked her for staying with Lydia.

  “I’m just glad to help and keep her company. I was widowed at just about her age, so I know what it’s like.”

  Josh turned one of the kitchen chairs backward and sat down.

  “I’m glad to see you again so soon, Josh,” Lydia said. “Can I do anything for you?”

  “It’s not what you can do for me, ma’am; it’s what I’m going to do for you.”

  “Oh? And what might that be?”

  “Lydia, you and Dr. Price have been awfully good to me. You helped with my tuition all the way through seminary and sent encouraging letters often. Those letters also had money in them. And you gave me a generous graduation gift.”

  Lydia smiled. “We did those things because we saw real potential in you, Josh. We wanted to have a part in your ministry. And just think, someday you’ll be my pastor. We also did it because we love you.”

  Josh nodded. “Lydia, what I’m going to do for you is because I love you, too, and I love Dr. Price’s memory. You have a big house and a large yard. I’m going to be here every Saturday morning—starting today—to take care of the place for you.”

  Tears filled Lydia’s eyes. “Josh, I don’t know what to say. I—”

  “Just say you’ll make up a list of things to be done each week. Of course, in the summer, there’ll always be the lawn to cut and weeds to pull, but let me know what needs to be done all year long. Painting, squeaky door hinges, whatever. I’ll take care of it for you.”

  “But what about your church work, Josh? You’ll be assistant pastor as of tomorrow morning. You’ll have your hands full with your new duties.”

  “I already talked to Pastor Farrington about it. I told him I thought I could take care of your place working Saturday mornings. He said that was fine, and if sometimes I need to work here on Saturday afternoons, that would be fine, too. So it’s all set. Will you keep a list of work for me to do?”

  Lydia looked at Sadie. “What am I going to do with him?”

  “Seems to me like his mind’s made up. I guess you’ll just have to put him to work.”

  “Sound advice, Sadie,” Josh said. “Any questions?” he asked Lydia.

  “Yes, one. How will I ever be able to thank you?”

  “The only thanks I want, Lydia, is to see you happy and well taken care of.”

  The next day, Joshua Cornell was installed as assistant pastor of the church. His ordination was set for the next Sunday night.

  On the following Monday, August 14, Josh received a letter from Jessica Smith. That evening in his room, he wrote a reply. In it, he cautiously asked if there was a young man in her life. He went on to tell her about his ordination service and thanked her for praying for his ministry. The rest of his letter was taken up with Carrie Smith’s illness, and he assured Jessica he would tell his parents about it, and the family would be praying for Carrie daily.

  He signed the letter Love, Josh.

  On August 16, Jessica Smith was on her hands and knees in the kitchen, scrubbing the wooden floor with a brush. A bucket of hot, sudsy water was at her side. She heard a knock at the front door and started to get up, but her mother, who was in the parlor, called out, “I’ll get it, Jessica!”

  Jessica blew at a stray lock of hair on her forehead and continued to scrub. When she stopped to dip the brush in the bucket again, she heard a familiar voice talking to her mother.

  Footsteps echoed in the hall as Jessica heard Brenda say, “You just sit down, Mrs. Smith. I’ll find her.”

  When Brenda entered the kitchen, Jessica noted an envelope in her hand. “What’s that?”

  “A letter.”

  Jessica dropped the brush in the bucket and rose to her feet. “From President Ulysses Simpson Grant? Or someone else?”

  “Someone else!” Brenda said with a giggle. “It was last week that I got the letter from President Grant, wanting my expert advice on how to run the country.”

  “All right, Miss Smarty, who— Wait a minute, is it—”

  “Uh-huh. Gil Simmons!”

  “Well, what does he say?”

  Brenda’s eyes danced with excitement. “He says he’s received several letters from young women in reply to his ads, but none of them intrig
ued him like mine. There are two full pages in here, giving all the details about himself. He’s a genuine Christian, without a doubt. He teaches a Sunday school class and is active in his church’s visitation program.”

  “This is sounding good,” Jessica admitted. “What else?”

  “Well, he’s done well in gold mining, but he recently bought a gun and hardware store in Carson City because he says one day the gold will play out.”

  “Smart man.”

  “He sent a photograph of himself. Want to see it?”

  “Of course.”

  Brenda pulled out a daguerreotype of a smiling Gil Simmons, standing at the mouth of a gold mine. She handed it to Jessica, who raised her eyebrows and said, “He’s good-looking.”

  Brenda chuckled gleefully. “I know. And he wants me to send a picture of myself. So … what do you think?”

  Jessica handed the picture back. “Well, I’ve already said I could never be a mail order bride, but Gil Simmons certainly sounds like a fine Christian man. If you should feel the Lord is in it and you go out there, does Gil expect you to marry him right away?”

  “Oh no. He says in here that if, after more letters and much prayer on both our parts, we feel I should go to Carson City, he will put me up in a boardinghouse at his expense, and we can try a courtship. If, after an agreed amount of time, we feel the Lord is in it, we’ll get married.”

  Jessica nodded her approval. “I like this man. Do you feel comfortable sending your picture and another letter?”

  “Yes, I do. So what do you think?”

  “I think you should write another letter and send your picture.”

  Brenda laughed. “Oh, I’m so glad! ’Cause I already wrote the letter, put in a photograph, and mailed it on the way over here!”

  “You stinker! Why were you asking for my advice?”

  “I just wanted to see what you’d say. Since the Lord has already given me peace in my heart about it, I went ahead with it.”

  Jessica moved to her friend and hugged her. “Brenda, if you go to Nevada, I’m going to miss you terribly!”