The Tender Flame

by Al Lacy

“Maybe you can come out for a visit. You keep saying that you love the West and want to see more of it.”

  “Yes,” said Jessica, blinking at her tears. “Maybe someday I can come and visit you.”

  In late August, Josh received a second letter from Jessica. He read it in the privacy of his room that evening. She began by telling him that her mother’s condition was not improving; she asked that he and his family continue praying for her. She told him that her best friend, Brenda Moore, whom he had met at the church in Fairfax, might be going west to Carson City, Nevada, to get married. A smile tugged at Josh’s lips when he read about Brenda possibly becoming a mail order bride.

  Just before closing off the letter, Jessica wrote: You asked in your last letter if there was a young man in my life. I have dated several young men from the church, but there’s no one special. I’m leaving it in God’s hands. Whenever He is ready to bring that certain someone into my life, I’m ready. Please write again soon. Love, Jessica.

  After reading the letter twice more, Josh sat down at the desk in his room and penned a reply. He told her that Pastor Farrington’s plan was to groom him for about a year, and if at that time he thought he was ready to be the pastor, Farrington would retire and step aside. Josh went on to say that he and his family were keeping her mother before the Lord every day and trusting that she would soon show improvement.

  He then told Jessica of Oregon City’s continual growth and that many souls were being saved and added to the church, which was keeping him quite busy as he took over more and more of the pastor’s responsibilities.

  At the end of the letter, Josh told her that God had that special man all picked out for her, and when it was His time, He would bring them together.

  EARLY IN THE LAST WEEK OF AUGUST, Jessica Smith stood at the door of her parents’ bedroom and observed her mother sleeping. She appeared to be getting worse. Each day, she seemed to tire more easily. Yet she insisted on being awakened in time to go to the kitchen and start supper. It was barely three o’clock now.

  Jessica pulled the bedroom door closed and made her way through the house and out to the backyard. The garden was ripe and ready for picking. Looks like I’ll spend the next few days canning vegetables.

  As far back as Jessica could remember, her mother had been an energetic person, loving her home and family. Since the Smiths had moved to Montgomery Village, each spring Carrie had planted and grown a first-rate vegetable garden, as well as a beautiful, fragrant flower garden.

  Jessica had watched her mother delight in gardening, from the planting to the harvesting and even beyond, as she prepared savory dishes from the fruits and produce. Then as the summer days began to wane, Carrie had busied herself canning and drying the remainder of her crops.

  This year—even with the disease evident in Carrie’s body—Jessica had watched her mother pore over seed catalogs from various companies on the East Coast, making decisions about what fruits and vegetables she would plant.

  Time turned back in Jessica’s thoughts to last spring. It was a breezy morning in late April …

  Carrie was at the kitchen table, making out her list of seeds and cuttings for her beloved garden. She looked up to see Jessica smiling at her.

  “Got everything picked out, Mama?”

  “Just about, honey.” Carrie placed a limp hand to her tired eyes and rubbed them.

  “Mama, you didn’t sleep very well last night, did you?”

  “Not really.” Carrie glanced back at her catalogs. “I was up several times. Some nights I wake up and my breathing is labored. Sometimes I rest better sitting up in a comfortable chair, so I go into the parlor and sit. Before dawn, I go back and crawl in bed so your father won’t know I’ve been up most of the night.”

  “I know, Mama.”

  “You do?”

  “Daddy sleeps much deeper than I do.”

  “Please don’t say anything to him.”

  “I won’t, Mama, but maybe you should ask the doctor for something to help you sleep.”

  Carrie was studying one of the catalogs. After a moment, she said, “I will, if I don’t start sleeping better.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “All right,” said Jessica, getting up from her chair. “I’ll go out and sweep the front porch and the sidewalk. Be back in a little while.”

  When Jessica was out of the kitchen, Carrie put her head down on the table, resting it on her arm. “Lord,” she said, giving in to her tears, “please give me strength.”

  When Jessica touched her shoulder, Carrie looked up, startled. “I … I thought you went out to sweep the porch and sidewalk.”

  “I started out, Mama, but I came back and stood over there by the door. I just couldn’t leave you.” Jessica leaned down and put her arms around her mother.

  “Honey, I’ll be fine. I’m just a little tired.”

  “Mama, you’re more than just a little tired. Come on, now, be honest. Tell me what’s making you cry like this.”

  Carrie took a hankie from her apron pocket and wiped away all traces of tears. She forced a smile to her lips and said, “I’m fine. Really, I am.”

  “How about some nice hot tea?”

  As soon as the water came to a boil and Jessica had brewed the tea, she placed a steaming cup in front of her mother. Then she reached over and clasped her mother’s thin hand in her own young, capable one.

  “Mama,” she said tenderly, “you were crying because you’re not sure you have the strength to plant your gardens this year. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  Carrie sat with her head bowed. Her lips began to tremble, and with tears shining in her once-bright eyes, she looked up through wet lashes at her daughter. There was a long silence; then as tears slipped down her pale cheeks, she said, “Jessica, I … I know I won’t have the strength I need to plant and work my garden this year.”

  “Oh, Mama …”

  Carrie sniffed and said softly, “I know it’s silly for me to carry on like this over my gardens, but they’ve always been such a joy for me, and through the dark, cold days of winter, I’ve always looked forward to planting and working them.”

  Jessica swallowed a sob that was trying to escape her tight throat. “Mama, you’re not being silly. There’s nothing wrong with you loving your flowers and your fruits and vegetables. Tell you what. I’ll do the work, and you do the supervising. Pick out what you want planted, then guide me as I do it. I’ll do the planting, weeding, watering, and harvesting. You make sure I’m doing it right, and together we’ll have the best yield ever. All right?”

  Carrie placed her hands tenderly on either side of Jessica’s face. “Honey, that would make me very happy. Let’s pick out the seeds together.”

  Mother and daughter bent their heads over the catalogs strewn on the table and eagerly made their plans.

  Jessica let her gaze roam over the colorful, aromatic flower garden and the rich garden of fruits and vegetables. Truly, this year’s gardens had been the best ever. Maybe her mother would be able to help a little with the canning. Enough, at least, that the project would be hers as well as Jessica’s.

  Two months passed. From the first of September to the first of November, Josh and Jessica continued to write to each other. It seemed to Jessica that ever since she had answered Josh’s question about a young man in her life, something changed in his letters. But maybe she was reading into Josh’s words what she was hoping to see.

  Carrie was taking a nap, and Jessica was in the kitchen, cleaning up from lunch, when someone knocked on the front door. It was Brenda, in coat and cap. She was smiling from ear to ear.

  “Come in out of the cold,” Jessica said. “You look plenty happy today. Get another letter from Gil?”

  “I sure did!”

  “Well, take off your coat and come to the kitchen. I was just cleaning up after lunch.”

  “Is your mother down for her nap?”

  “Mm-hmm, but she won’t be able to hear us in the
kitchen, so we won’t disturb her rest.”

  When they were seated at the kitchen table, Jessica said, “All right, Brenda, let’s hear it.”

  “Gil’s seventh letter came this morning. He wants me to come to Carson City with marriage in mind. Because of my latest letter to him, he was so sure I’d say yes that he enclosed the money for my railroad fare and other travel expenses. I’m leaving a week from today!”

  “Just like that? Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

  “I have perfect peace about it. And from Gil’s letters, he sounds like a man I could really love. My parents don’t like the idea of my going so far away, but they feel it’s God’s will. I didn’t tell you, but two weeks ago, Papa wrote a long letter to Gil, telling him what he expected of the man who married his daughter. The envelope that came this morning had a letter to Papa in it, too. Papa was very pleased at what Gil had to say. He thinks Gil will make a perfect son-in-law.”

  Jessica set steady eyes on her best friend. “Brenda, you sound like it’s already settled … that you’re just going to get off the train in Carson City and march with Gil right to the preacher and take your vows. Don’t you think you’d best go slower?”

  “It’ll still be as Gil and I agreed early on, Jessica, but we both have a pretty strong feeling that the Lord has chosen us for each other.”

  “Well, just be careful. As somebody put it, all that glitters is not gold. I really think you’re going too fast with this and— Oh, Brenda, I’m sorry. Here I am, shooting off my mouth on something that’s none of my business. Please forgive me.”

  “It’s all right. I know it’s because you love me and care about my life.”

  “No, it’s more than that. I just realized what it is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yes, I do love you, Brenda, and I care about what you do with your life, but I’ve let something creep in that caused my big mouth to spout off.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s called envy. Truth is, I’m envious of you. Here you are, about to climb aboard a train and go to the man you no doubt will marry. And here’s ol’ Jessica, wanting with everything that’s in her to hear from the man she loves that he wants her to come and be his bride. Please forgive me, Brenda. I’m just selfish. I want an envelope in my hand with money in it for railroad fare and travel expenses. I want from Josh what you have from Gil.”

  “Now, you stop that kind of talk, Jessica Smith. If there’s anything you’re not, it’s selfish! One of the reasons I love you so much is because you’re so unselfish. It’s going to be all right between you and Josh. I just know it. The Lord wouldn’t let you love that man so much if He hadn’t chosen him for you.”

  Jessica’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Brenda, do you really believe that?”

  “Yes, I do. You just keep loving Josh. In the Lord’s perfect time, you’re going to become Mrs. Reverend Joshua Cornell.”

  On a Tuesday in mid-November, the two best friends said a tearful good-bye, promising to keep in touch by mail.

  On the following Saturday, Grant took Carrie to the family doctor while Jessica cleaned house and the boys cleaned up their rooms. The three siblings were in the kitchen discussing their mother’s worsening condition when they heard the front door open and close. They hurried down the hall to their parents.

  “So what did Dr. Freeman say, Daddy?” Jessica asked.

  Grant smiled as he handed his cane to David and removed his hat and coat. “He has given us hope, honey.”

  “Well, tell us!”

  “Let’s go in the parlor and sit down. It involves a big change in our lives. Your mother and I want to explain it to you.”

  Daniel took hold of Carrie’s arm, and David rushed to support her on the other side as they walked her to the parlor.

  “Do you want to tell them, honey?” Grant said to Carrie.

  “I’ll give them the initial news, then let you take it from there.” Her features were a bit gray, and there were dark circles around her eyes, yet her eyes held a new light. “Dr. Freeman strongly suggests that we move out West for my health’s sake. He said it should be in a high, dry climate, preferably along the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado Territory. His choice for me would be in or near Denver. The altitude is over five thousand feet, and there’s little humidity.”

  “Dr. Freeman said if your mother lived there, it would make her consumption much easier to withstand and give her a longer life.”

  “Grant, we have to be honest with the children.”

  “Well, honey, I—”

  “We have to. They have a right to know.”

  All eyes turned to Grant. Finally he said, “Dr. Freeman said the move to Colorado would give your mother a longer life unless it’s already too late to make a difference. But since the high, dry altitude will make her consumption easier to withstand, I think it has to prolong her life.”

  “Yes, Dad,” David said. “I think we should all agree to look at it like that.”

  “What about a job for you, Daddy?” Jessica said.

  “Well, I’ve read quite a bit about Denver. It’s really growing by leaps and bounds. The town already has four banks. I believe the Lord would have us do what’s best for your mother, and let Him see to it that I get a good job.”

  Carrie’s health seemed to improve with the prospect of the move to Colorado. She had more energy, and the light was back in her eyes that had grown so dull of late.

  Grant wanted to travel while Carrie was feeling well, so the Smith family began preparations in earnest for the trip to Colorado. With winter coming on, they could run into severe weather across the plains of Kansas and eastern Colorado, so Grant arranged for them to travel with a company that transported various goods to the West. They would be in good company all the way to Denver.

  Jessica wrote to Josh, telling him they were moving to Colorado, and why. It would be in or near Denver, the Mile High City. Their house had sold quickly and they would soon be on their way. Before closing off the letter, she told Josh that Brenda had gone to Carson City to become Gil Simmons’s mail order bride.

  The Grant Smith family arrived in Denver, Colorado Territory, in early February. They had endured two blizzards and a few lesser snowstorms on the way, but traveling with the supply wagon train, they had made it through with no mishaps.

  They lived in their covered wagon for a few weeks until they were able to buy a house about a half mile south of town. Because of Grant’s banking experience and a letter of recommendation from the bank in Germantown, he was able to land a good job within the first week.

  As soon as they were in their house, Jessica wrote to Josh, giving him her new address.

  As the weeks passed, Carrie seemed to improve even more, but their new doctor in Denver was watching her closely, and their new pastor had asked the church to hold her up in prayer.

  March came to Oregon, carrying warmer breezes and rain mixed with snow. Brett Cornell now had a huge lumber camp in the Cascade Mountains, some forty miles east of Oregon City. With each new wagon train that had arrived in late autumn, he was able to find men who wanted jobs. The demand for lumber grew along with Oregon’s population, and Brett was eager for the wagon trains to start arriving in the spring.

  Since the church was not yet large enough to pay Josh a full salary, he worked three days a week for his father. Saturday mornings, of course, still belonged to Lydia Price.

  One warm day in the first week of March, there was a gentle knock on the door of Brett’s office.

  “Yes?” he called.

  The door opened, and Mary Ann said, “Daddy, Josh is here to see you.”

  “Send him in, honey.”

  Josh entered with the scent of fresh-cut wood in his clothes. He grinned as he said, “That sure is a pretty secretary you’ve got there, Mr. Cornell.”

  “And don’t I know it,” Brett said, chuckling. “She’s almost as pretty as her mother!”

  “I won’t
argue with that. Of course, when it comes to father and son in this family, the son is much better looking than the father.”

  “And I won’t argue with that!”

  “Dad, one of the men said you wanted to see me right away.”

  “Yes, son. Sit down. I suppose I could’ve waited till supper tonight to talk to you, but you get called away so often to fulfill your pastoral duties.”

  “I need a little breather anyhow. What is it?”

  Brett leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “I’m really feeling burdened for the souls of the lumbermen and their families out there at the lumber camp, son. I know you share that burden. It bothers me that those folks won’t come into town to church.”

  “Well, Dad, every time I invite the men to bring their families, they say it’s just too far. Thirty miles is quite a distance.”

  “Exactly. So I’ve come up with an idea, and I wanted to see what you think about it.”

  Josh grinned. “I’m all ears.”

  BRETT CORNELL EASED BACK IN HIS CHAIR. “Here’s what I’ve been thinking, son. Since it’s too far for those folks to come to the church to hear the gospel, let’s take the gospel to them … have preaching services right at the camp. And I’d like for you to do the preaching. I figure to have the services Sunday afternoon. You could make it out there in short order on horseback and be back in town for the evening service at the church.”

  A wide smile captured Josh’s face. “Now you’re talking my language, Dad. I’ll talk to Pastor Farrington. I’m sure he’ll go along with it, but I want his permission and his blessing.”

  “Well, if you can talk to the pastor yet today, and he’s for it, I’d like you to ride out to the camp and talk to the men and their families. If we get even a few who’ll attend, we’ll start as soon as possible.”

  “You’re telling me that I have the rest of the day off so I can work on this?”

  “That’s what I’m telling you. I’m thrilled with the prospect of this, and now it’s up to you to get the wheels rolling.”

  “I’m halfway to the pastor’s study right now!”