Embers of Love

by Tracie Peterson

  “Elizabeth doesn’t drink coffee,” her mother declared.

  “Oh, yes I do,” Lizzie said, feeling ever so daring to voice her new vice. It made her feel only marginally back in control. “Furthermore, I’m tired. I had no idea that you would be here. I’ve been up since four this morning helping with chores and making jam. I am ready now to retire for the evening. I’m sorry if this is a problem for either of you, but I will speak to you more about it tomorrow.”

  With that she turned and left, hoping – really praying – that no one would try to stop her. When she reached the stairs, she felt a surge of triumph. Deborah and Euphanel were busily commenting on how Stuart and Mrs. Decker could return in the morning as early as they liked, or perhaps prefer to meet at church.

  “We always attend church, if possible. We’d be happy to have you here for dinner afterward,” Euphanel told them.

  Lizzie shook her head and continued to make good her escape. She could scarcely draw a breath. How could it be that she’d had no word of warning from her father? Perhaps he didn’t know her mother’s plans – after all, they were no longer civil to each other and didn’t even live in the same state.

  Throwing herself across the small bed, Lizzie wanted to cry. What if Stuart spoke the truth? What if she truly was married to the man? The very thought chilled her to the bone. He’d make her miserable for leaving him at the altar.

  The door to the room opened and Deborah stepped inside. Her expression was a mixture of sympathy and determination. “Are you all right, Lizzie?”

  “How can I be?” She made the effort to sit up, but what she really wanted was to crawl under the bed instead. “I cannot believe he followed me here. I can’t believe Mother came here, either. What is happening? Has the world come to an end and someone failed to notify me?”

  Deborah sat opposite Lizzie on the edge of her own quilt-covered bed. “Mother has managed to ease tensions for the moment. She invited them to join us here after church tomorrow. That will give us time to consider what is to be done.”

  “But what is to be done? Stuart says that I’m legally wed to him. I don’t see how that can possibly be.”

  “I don’t, either,” Deborah said thoughtfully. “I don’t know a great deal about the law, but perhaps I can speak with Dr. Clayton before church tomorrow. He might have some knowledge.”

  “If only my father were here, we could ask him,” Lizzie said sadly. “Oh, and my life was just starting to settle into place. I was actually happy.”

  Deborah nodded. “So was G. W. I don’t think this will brook well with him at all. Did you see the way Mr. Albright looked at him when he kept you from falling backward?”

  “I did. That’s Stuart’s way. He cannot tolerate any other man touching me or speaking to me overly long. Oh, Deborah, I simply cannot bear this. Why is this happening?”

  “I don’t know, but I firmly believe all things happen for a reason.”

  “Yes, but this is for a very bad reason. Of that, I’m sure.” Lizzie got up and began pulling pins from her blond hair. “I don’t wish Stuart ill – I never did. I’m sure that Father would have made that clear to him.”

  “It’s not your father who puzzles me,” Deborah said, following Lizzie’s example. She crossed the room to where they shared the simple dressing table and placed her hairpins in a decorative ebony box. “What is your mother doing here? She should have been quite happy that you didn’t marry. It would have given her a great story to tell her suffragette friends. She could have gone on and on about how you finally came to your senses, realizing no woman needs a man to make her complete.”

  Lizzie picked up her brush and began to run it through the long waves of hair. “That’s right. I cannot imagine her caring one whit about Stuart’s feelings, and obviously she doesn’t care about mine.” She grew thoughtful. “What is she doing here?”

  “We shall have to figure that out.” Deborah picked up her own brush. “But in the meantime, I don’t think you should fret. Let’s send a telegram to your father. Perhaps with his connections he can advise you best on the matter.”

  Lizzie gave a heavy sigh. “I certainly hope he can. I don’t want to find myself Mrs. Stuart Albright.”

  –––––––

  Sunday dinner at the Vandermark house was an unusually serious event. Rob and Uncle Arjan sat on either side of Stuart and occasionally made comments to him, while Deborah made sure that Lizzie was sandwiched between herself and Uncle Arjan.

  A last-minute addition was Dr. Clayton. Deborah had thought it a good idea to include him. It gave their side a man of learning to balance against Stuart Albright. At least that was her thought on the situation.

  Lizzie was too nervous to eat and pushed her food around the plate so much that Deborah wanted to take away her fork and spoon. Instead, she launched into comments about the sermon that day, hoping it would draw the focus away from the underlying tension in the room.

  “I am quite frustrated with the sermon this morning,” Deborah began. “I know the preacher meant for us to take away the lesson of what God’s people can do when they come together, but I think there are serious issues with the story that did not get discussed.”

  “Such as what?” her mother asked, immediately realizing Deborah’s intent.

  “Well, in reading through chapter nineteen of Judges, I found myself completely at odds with the entire matter. You have a man who is a Levite. That was supposed to mean great things in those days. They were faithful when the rest of Israel fell down to worship the golden calf during Moses’ absence. They were blessed because of it. They were appointed to be rabbis and teachers of Israel. The Lord was their inheritance, rather than lands and properties.”

  She could see from their expressions that Stuart and Lizzie’s mother had no more understanding of the topic than did the dogs sleeping on the front porch.

  “So you have this Levite and he has a concubine, which in those days was, if I understand correctly, an acceptable position as a second wife. Although she couldn’t be endowed, so her children couldn’t inherit. At least, I think that’s what the rabbi told me.”

  “You spoke with a rabbi? But you aren’t Jewish,” Harriet Decker said in surprise.

  “Our Deborah believes it’s important to get to the heart of the matter and understand a situation – or in this case, a Bible story – from all angles,” her uncle explained.

  Deborah nodded. “I went to a synagogue in Philadelphia after reading this book the first time. The rabbi, a very forward-thinking man, explained several things to me. In fact, he was the one who taught me about the Levites. Anyway, so you have this man and his wife and she plays the harlot or, as the rabbi told me, the Hebrew word is zanah. And while its primary definition is whore or participating as a whore, it can also mean to dislike – to hate. He said it is entirely possible that the woman hadn’t committed adultery but had merely fought with her husband. They could simply have had a fight, and she went home to her father’s house. This could explain why the husband doesn’t require her to be stoned. It would also allow for why her father let her stay with him – he surely wouldn’t have done so if she were an adulterous woman.” Deborah tapped her finger to her chin.

  Dr. Clayton joined in. “The fact that the man goes after her, yet stays to eat, drink, and make merry with her father suggests to me that he was not at all in ill spirits. The fact that, as you say, he did not go there to have her put to death says to me that he was of a mind to put the matter behind him. I tend to think there’s great possibility in your thoughts on zanah, meaning that there was some sort of fight and they were angry with each other.”

  Deborah nodded. “Even so, here’s this man – this Levite. He’s supposed to be knowledgeable and a strong man of God. So let’s say she was at her worst and he did the honorable thing by forgiving her. As far as I can see, that’s where his merits end.”

  “How so, Deborah?” her mother questioned.

  It was almost comical the way H
arriet Decker stared at them while Stuart kept his gaze on the plate in front of him. He said nothing, but his irritation was evident by the way he mutilated his food.

  “The Levite has so little regard for the safety and well-being of his wife. Even if he did consider her nothing more than property, as many did, you would have thought he would want to protect his property.”

  “That’s right,” Dr. Clayton said. “Yet he leaves late in the day and heads into territory that he knows will be a problem. He has made no provision for their lodging.”

  “Oh, but he has food for the donkeys and for the people,” G. W. interjected. “I remember the preacher saying that.”

  “Yes, he had food,” Deborah agreed. “But he made no other provision. Not for safety, not for lodging, and certainly not for the welfare of his wife. So an old man finally shows up, well after they’d given up hope of finding a place to stay, and he takes them in. The Bible says they were ‘making their hearts merry’ when these horrible men show up at the door demanding to have carnal knowledge of the Levite.”

  “I say, this is the most inappropriate conversation I’ve ever been forced to endure,” Stuart Albright declared. “I would never allow a young woman of my family to speak as you do.” He looked to Arjan. “Is this how women act in Texas? If so, I’m glad to get my wife out of here before she can be further corrupted.”

  Arjan looked at him hard. “Deborah is sharing Scripture and talkin’ about understanding God’s Word. There’s nothin’ wrong with that, as far as I can see.”

  “It’s completely unacceptable.” Stuart threw down his napkin. “She’s talking of adultery and men . . . well, I will not repeat the matter. Suffice it to say I cannot and will not sit by and allow my wife to be a part of such conversation. Elizabeth, go pack your things.”

  Deborah had never seen Uncle Arjan truly angry, but the muscles in his neck tightened and his eyes narrowed over Stuart Albright’s outburst.

  “Son,” Uncle Arjan began slowly, “this is the Vandermark house. My sister-in-law is the lady of the house, and it’s entirely up to her to say who stays and who goes. But to my way of thinkin’, you’re the one who should leave. Unless, of course, you can make yourself civil.”

  For a moment, no one said anything. To her surprise, it was Lizzie’s mother who defused the situation. “Mr. Albright, I must say it is the height of rudeness that we should chastise our hostess and her family for the topic of conversation that they choose. In fact, I find the subject quite interesting.”

  Stuart looked at her strangely for a moment, but Harriet simply patted his hand. Deborah, too, found her behavior confusing.

  “Would anyone care for dessert?” Deborah’s mother asked. “I find difficult questions go down better when accompanied by pecan pie.”

  “Sure sounds good to me,” G. W. replied.

  Rob and Uncle Arjan nodded, while Dr. Clayton patted his stomach. “I think I can find room,” he declared.

  Stuart said nothing. He fixed Deborah with an icy stare, made only more chilling by the blue of his eyes. He was cold and harsh. His stare told her clearly that he did not approve of her or her intellectual discussion of the Bible. It was almost as if he were trying to will her into silence.

  Better men than you have tried, Mr. Albright. The thought made her smile.

  “So now, what was your question, little gal?” Uncle Arjan asked.

  Deborah met her uncle’s amused expression. It was almost as if he could read her thoughts. “The men come with their demands of . . . unmentionable evil.” She looked at Stuart. “Is my word choice better?”

  He refused to answer but instead folded his arms against his chest. Deborah smiled sweetly. “I suppose I can understand how disturbing the Bible can be.” She turned back to her uncle. “The men want their way, and the host and the Levite, wanting no part of that evil, offer instead the man’s virgin – Oh, should I not use that word?” She again looked to Stuart for an answer.

  Lizzie gave an unladylike snort that she quickly covered with a coughing fit. G. W. offered her a glass of water, further irritating Mr. Albright. Deborah decided she was being too difficult and drew a deep breath. “I do apologize, Mr. Albright. I tend to let my temper get the best of me from time to time, but there is no call for me to take it out on you. Now, where was I?”

  “You were about to mention that the host offered his virginal daughter and the Levite’s concubine to the evil men instead,” Dr. Clayton threw out.

  Deborah gave him a smile. “Of course. So for whatever reason, they reject the virgin and take the concubine. They do all manner of evil to her throughout the night. God alone knows what that poor woman must have had to suffer. And the story doesn’t stop there.”

  “It does give a person a mite to ponder,” Uncle Arjan said between bites of pie.

  “You should ask the preacher about it,” G. W. suggested.

  “I did,” Deborah said, looking hard at Stuart Albright. “He said my mind was a wonder, and that for a woman I thought entirely too much. He said that God knew what He was doing by putting it in the Bible, and that men of God would understand it, and women needn’t worry about it.”

  Dr. Clayton managed to draw her gaze from the smug expression of Mr. Albright. “I’m a man of God, and I don’t believe I understand it.”

  “Neither do I,” her uncle agreed. “Seems to me it’s a hard story to understand.”

  “If your own minister will not reveal its mysteries,” Mrs. Decker began, “then perhaps it is best we leave it as an example of the thoughtlessness of men toward women. I will definitely remember this story and use it as an example of how women have been treated throughout the ages.”

  “I hardly believe that was God’s purpose in the story, Mother.” Lizzie said, much to Stuart’s displeasure.

  “You can hardly know what God was thinking,” Stuart said firmly. “Now, if you don’t mind, and with your permission, Mrs. Vandermark, I would like for my wife to pack her things so that we can make our way to Philadelphia.”

  Deborah started to comment, but her mother spoke instead. “Mr. Albright, I am a woman of reason. It is my understanding that Lizzie is of age and capable of making her own decisions. She is of the belief that the marriage did not take place, and therefore she is not your wife.” Albright started to speak, but Mother held up her hand. “However, even if she is your wife, and I’m not saying that she is, she is still able to decide for herself if she will continue being your bride. There are alternatives that would rectify the situation either way.”

  “Of all the nonsense.” Stuart got to his feet. “Mrs. Decker, let us speak with the legal officials in town. I’m certain we can accomplish more there than here.”

  Mrs. Decker nodded and got to her feet. “I believe you may be right in that. Elizabeth, I want you to come to town and stay with us that we might be able to speak with you privately.”

  “There’s nothing anyone can say to me that I would not allow these good people to hear,” Lizzie replied.

  “Well, there is much I would say to you, and frankly, I believe it very rude to bring strangers into such intimate conversation. It only serves to make both parties uncomfortable.”

  “I doubt anyone would be all that uncomfortable, Mother. And these are not strangers to me.” She exchanged a smile with Deborah’s mother.

  Deborah was proud of Lizzie. It took a great deal of courage to stand her ground in the face of her mother’s demands.

  “Very well. Perhaps we shall speak of it tomorrow.”

  Deborah’s mother walked out with Mr. Albright and Mrs. Decker, leaving the others to consider all that had just happened.

  “I’m so sorry,” Lizzie said. “I never meant to bring this on you all.”

  “Y’all,” G. W. said with a smile. “If you’re gonna be a Texan, you ought to learn to speak like one.”

  This brought chuckles from the table, but to Deborah’s surprise, Dr. Clayton’s expression remained serious.

  “Are yo
u all right? Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I’m fine, and yes, something is wrong. I’m afraid I shall be thinking long and hard about Judges nineteen and twenty.” He smiled. “And I agree with the preacher – at least in part. Your mind is a wonder.”

  Deborah didn’t even think before elbowing him soundly as she might have done one of her brothers. Realizing what she’d done, she covered her mouth with her hands. Her uncle and brothers dissolved into laughter, while Dr. Clayton looked at her in surprise.

  “You have to watch yourself with her,” Rob warned. “That’s why we won’t sit beside her. We’ve had sore ribs too many times.”

  Deborah shook her head and lowered her hands. “I’m so very sorry. I never meant – ”

  He put a finger to her lips and grinned. “You are forgiven, but you really should learn to control that temper of yours.”

  Her eyes widened, but she said nothing. Instead she put the Bible aside and picked up her fork as Dr. Clayton went back to eating.

  “We should definitely keep him around,” G. W. said, smiling. “I’ve never seen anybody be able to shut her up like that.”

  CHAPTER 12

  A week later, Mr. Perkins stood at the front of the small church with preacher Artemus Shattuck at his side. “As you know,” he began, “Brother Shattuck has been riding the circuit to speak to us every other Sunday. I’m happy to announce that he has agreed to become our regular minister and move here to Perkinsville.”

  The congregation murmured and nodded approvingly. Brother Shattuck smiled and bobbed his head in return. G. W. thought it a fine idea to have a regular preacher, although he couldn’t help but wonder how Deborah would feel. She had often commented that Brother Shattuck had admonished her on more than one occasion that she should marry, saying her husband would explain the biblical things she didn’t understand.

  “Let’s pray and be dismissed,” Brother Shattuck announced after shaking hands with Mr. Perkins.