Amethyst

by Lauraine Snelling

  “That will be fine.”

  “I’ll bring a wagon by so we can load up the furniture. Carl said he’s finished.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  Jeremiah left, shaking his head. Why would she do that? I thought she liked it here. He rode on toward home, stopping by the Harrison ranch on his way. He found Rand down at the barn trimming horse hooves.

  “Did you know Miss O’Shaunasy left with Mrs. Grant for Chicago?” “Nope, can’t say as I did. Sorry to hear that.” Rand ran the rasp around the hoof again and sighted down it to make sure the hoof was level.

  “Now, why would she go and do that?”

  Rand set the foot down and stood. “Jeremiah, are you blind in both eyes or what?”

  “What?”

  “The woman loves you, and you paid her no more attention than a serving maid. What do you expect?”

  “Ah, come on.”

  “Suit yourself. You had fine wife material there, and you failed to see it.”

  McHenry plunked down on a bench. Surely Rand was talking through his hat. Surely.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Dear Jacob,

  Thank you for your letter. I am sorry to have taken so long to respond, but I have been somewhat under the weather. Please do not think that I want to blame you for my meager life, but our discussions, when we were together, had a way of making me want to get moving again, to strike you for your obstreperous behavior, if nothing else. How you did manage to rile me, and I fought so hard at that time to keep you from being aware of the struggles deep in my heart, but you ferreted them out. Ah, the deceptions we play.

  I have a tremendous favor to ask of you. I would so appreciate seeing you again before I leave this earthly realm that no longer holds much joy for me. Thanks to you, I am sure of my heavenly abode and look forward to leaving this crust of a body behind and taking on that new one that Christ has promised. Would you be willing to use the ticket I have enclosed for a trip back here? I know that is a terrible imposition, but I have some things I would like to discuss with you face-to-face.

  Please send me a telegram as to your arrival time if you feel that you can manage to do this. I remain your faithful friend, hoping against hope that I will see you soon.

  Evan Dumfarthing

  Jacob laid the letter on the table and rubbed his forehead. Yesterday he had received a letter saying he had the teaching job here in Medora and today this. School should be starting in three weeks, so he needed to leave immediately if he were to go.

  Lord, how can I not go? The thought of that interminable ride back across the country did nothing to make him excited. And he needed to get ready to open the school. Having never taught, he figured some preparation was needed. Some! Ha! That same letter had said boxes of textbooks would be on the way. Mrs. Hegland informed him that she and Mrs. de Mores had provided most of the schoolbooks up until now, including those in the meager library. She had already requested another shipment from Chicago.

  He needed to ask if it was all right for Joel to stay here without him. Unless he were to take Joel to visit his grandparents. The recent letter from Melody’s parents assured him they would be happy and grateful to see them anytime.

  Pray first. That’s what he’d preached last Sunday. The need for and the power of prayer. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his clasped hands. “Father, I do not want to run before you, nor do I want to lag behind. I want to rest and walk in your perfect will, the path you have chosen for me. Mr. Dumfarthing would not ask this favor were it not important to him. The ticket is here, but what about Joel? Should I take him to see his grandparents? And if I do, what do I use to pay for his ticket?” He waited, trying to listen as he’d reminded himself so often. Talking to God was easy; quieting his mind to listen, that took a struggle.

  After a bit he closed his Bible with the letter folded in it and made his way up to the house. He could hear Ada Mae and Joel arguing out by the woodpile. But instead of investigating, he climbed the steps and went inside.

  “Hello, Jacob. I’m surprised to see you at this time of day.”

  “I had a letter waiting when I went to town. There was no mail for you.”

  “Not unusual.” Cora pulled the coffeepot to the front of the stove. “Coffee will be hot in a minute. How does corn bread with molasses over it sound?”

  “Wonderful.” He twisted his hat brim between his hands.

  “All right. Sit down and tell me what is bothering you.” She set the plate of corn bread and the syrup pitcher in front of him.

  “You remember I told you about a man in my former parish named Evan Dumfarthing?”

  “The old man?”

  “Yes. Well, the letter is from him, and he has requested that I come back there to meet with him. He thinks he is dying, and he could well be. I believe I should go, but—”

  “But what? Do you need money for the ticket?”

  “No. He sent the ticket. It is Joel I’m concerned about.”

  “What’s to be concerned? He will stay right here where he belongs. That need not be a concern for you.” She poured a cup of coffee and set that in front of him.

  “I wish I could afford the ticket and the time to take him to see his grandparents while I am there, but—”

  “I don’t want to go back there.”

  Jacob turned to see his son standing just inside the doorway. “Listening to other people’s conversation is not polite.”

  “Sorry, but I want to stay here. Please?”

  “I need to be the one deciding that. I’ll be out to talk with you in a few minutes.”

  Joel mumbled something and let the door slam behind him, a punctuation mark to what he’d said.

  Cora laughed. “Guess he was clear about what he wanted.”

  “I don’t blame him. There are few good memories for him there, and here he is happy all the time.” They heard a crash and an angry shout from the direction of the woodpile. “Well, most of the time.”

  Cora half shrugged and hoisted her coffee cup. “To a good trip for you.”

  “Guess I’ll ride on out to tell Rand I’m leaving.”

  “Rand?” Cora’s eyebrows arched, her eyes twinkling.

  He pushed his empty plate away and stood, his neck feeling warm. “Thank you.”

  He rode on over to the Harrisons’, mentally figuring out what all he would need to take along. If only the textbooks would come before he left so he could review his Latin and higher mathematics while on the train.

  He dismounted at the hitching bar and climbed the front steps. A knock on the door brought no answer. Ghost hadn’t even been there to announce him. The dog was probably off with the men working the cattle somewhere. He knocked again. With still no answer, he wandered on around the house to see if anyone was in the backyard. Not there either, nor at the barn, but he could hear laughing down at the river. He mounted again and rode out to find Ruby weaving baskets of cattails and Opal out on a log fishing.

  “Welcome. We’ll be frying fish soon.” Ruby waved at him.

  “Is Rand here?”

  “No. They’re out on the range. Opal is teaching Per to fish”— she rolled her eyes—“or play in the mud, which is more his speed.”

  A little boy’s laugh said that whatever they were doing, he was having a good time.

  “Thought I’d come by and tell Rand that I’m leaving for Pennsylvania on tomorrow’s train. My friend Mr. Dumfarthing has requested that I pay him a visit and sent a ticket along with his plea.”

  “Well, I hope you have a good trip.”

  “Thank you.” He dropped his horse’s reins so it was ground-tied like most cattle horses and walked on out to the riverbank. He watched as Opal flipped a fish out of the water and kept an eye on Per, who scooped up mud and let it run through his fingers, giggling all the while. The log she sat on kept him out of the river proper.

  “Opal?”

  “Jacob. How good to see you.” She grinned at him over her shoulder, unho
oked the fish, strung the forked stick through his gill, and set it back in the water. “Can you stay for supper? We have potatoes baking in the ashes and will be frying fish shortly.”

  “It sounds good, but I have a lot to do tonight. I’m leaving for Pennsylvania as soon as I can. I may be gone for two weeks. I’m hoping less, since I’ll be teaching school here in three weeks.”

  “Oh, Jacob, that’s wonderful. The school, I mean, not your being gone. Is Joel going with you?” She glanced down to see Per rubbing mud into her rolled-up pant leg. “Ugh.”

  “No. He’s staying with the Robertsons.” I’ll miss you. Please miss me. “I’ll write to you.”

  “You’ll be back before I could send a letter to you, unless I write it right now and make sure it is on the same train.” Opal rolled her lips to hide a smile.

  He knew that action. He cocked an eyebrow and grinned at her. “You might want to watch out for that little feller.”

  She looked down to see Per now smearing the mud in his hair and on his cheeks. “Oh, goodness sakes. Ruby will have my hide.” She swooped him up and dunked him in the riverside. “You are one filthy little boy, but the mosquitoes won’t bother you.”

  Per clapped his hands. “Opa! Mo.” His squeal made them both laugh.

  She dug her stick of fish from the riverbank and handed it to Jacob. “Here, take this to the Robertsons for supper. And tell Joel he can come fish anytime.” A shadow creased her forehead. “I hope you have a good trip and come home safe.”

  Ah, that’s what he’d been hoping for. She would miss him.

  He touched his hat brim and turned to leave before his eyes could give him away. As he mounted after saying good-bye to Ruby and reining his horse around, he heard Opal’s call.

  “God bless.”

  Ah, thank you, Lord. Every day my Opal is more back to herself. Nudging his horse to a lope, he realized what he’d thought. My Opal. Lord willing indeed.

  Four days later he knocked on Mr. Dumfarthing’s heavy front door.

  “Oh, Reverend Chandler. Himself has been waiting for you.” Mrs. Howard, the housekeeper, reached out to take his hand and bring him in. “He will be so glad to see you.”

  “How is he?”

  “Truly failing.” She drew herself somewhat straighter, more like the woman he remembered, and sniffed. When that was insufficient, she dabbed at the edge of her eye with a hanky she took from her apron pocket. “Forgive me. This is so hard, watching him go by inches.”

  “I would have come sooner had he asked.” Jacob set his carpetbag at the base of the coat tree.

  “Let me take that and put it in your room for later. I’ll take you to see him now before he hears us talking and yells.” A trace of her former smile touched her lips.

  If Mr. Dumfarthing had aged as much as his housekeeper had, Jacob knew he’d be in for a shock.

  The body in the bed barely raised the covers. But the windows were open and the sun danced in with dust motes floating in the slight breeze.

  “I don’t want to wake him.”

  “If I don’t, he will have my head.” She patted Jacob’s arm. “Every minute is precious now.” She crossed to the bed and touched the old man’s shoulder. “Reverend Chandler is here.”

  The old eyes fluttered open, and a smile that looked more like a grimace folded parched skin so thin that the bones showed through. Mr. Dumfarthing extended a quivering hand.

  Jacob knelt beside the bed and took the old man’s cold hand in his own, hoping to impart strength and warmth with his grip. “Good to see you, sir.” But not like this. Oh, Lord, treat my friend gently.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I see.”

  “Get him a chair.” A trace of the old imperious tone laced the request.

  Jacob chuckled. “I can get my own. And if you’d like, I could help you to sit in the sun with me. Might feel good on your old bones.”

  “Old bones, eh.” Dumfarthing made a sound that might have been a chuckle but sounded more like he was choking. “Thank you. You always were trying to get me out of bed. I’m not sure that is a possibility any longer.” He motioned to the pillows. “Just help me lean up against these, if you will.”

  Together Jacob and Mrs. Howard stacked the pillows behind him and helped the frail frame settle back with a sigh.

  “Have you had dinner yet?” she asked.

  “No, I came directly from the train.”

  “I’ll fix up trays for you both. That might be best.”

  “Thank you.” Jacob smiled at her and turned back to his friend to see that his eyes were closed again and his breathing more labored. That little effort had tired him. Jacob sat with his hands clasped, elbows on his knees. Lord, please give him the strength that he needs. At least he has gained more time and more assurance since I badgered him out of bed and back into living.

  “Ah, forgive me. I seem to wander in and out of sleep without much warning.”

  “I’m in no hurry.”

  “But I am. I haven’t long, and we have much to do.”

  “We do?”

  “Yes. See that portfolio on the desk?”

  Jacob nodded.

  “Bring that to me, will you, please?”

  “Of course.” Jacob retrieved the leather-bound packet and laid it on the edge of the bed. “Do you need more light?”

  “No, I know what is in there. I want you to read it so we can talk about it and make sure all will be well.”

  “I see.” Jacob didn’t know what else to say. Actually, he didn’t see or understand anything at the moment. He picked up the binder and opened the cover. “This is your will.”

  “Very good observation.” The dry wit still lived.

  “But why should I read your will?”

  “Please, just do as I ask.” Dumfarthing tried to clear his throat but had to cough instead. The rattle made Jacob flinch.

  “I have made the usual bequests. Mrs. Howard will be taken care of for life. Since I have no living children and my one living brother has plenty of his own wealth, I have designated a large sum to the church here.” He raised his hand and a glint came back to his eye. “You need not take credit for that, although had you not bullied me back to life then, I would not be here now.” He paused. “You gave an old man a new lease on life, but it seems that lease has run out now.”

  “I’m glad I was here.”

  “I wish you were still here, but I have made peace with God about many things. Young men make foolish mistakes, but God willing, they learn from them and go on to walk the path He ordained for them.”

  “Speaking of young men in a generic sense.”

  “Of course.” Again the dry chuckle that sounded like a death rattle.

  Jacob read further. “You can’t do this.”

  “It’s my money.”

  “But…”

  “I have prayed long and hard over this. The church here in town will have the interest from the investments I have designated for them. It should help them for years to come. If I give more, they will come to depend on that and not understand the benefit of paying their own tithes. Then they will not reap the harvest God has promised to those who bring in their full tithe.” He paused to catch his breath. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed.

  Jacob studied the face that bore only a resemblance to the man he left more than a year earlier. A skull with skin still stretched on it. The shock of white hair standing every which way, so unlike the careful grooming he’d known Mr. Dumfarthing to expect. He needed a shave. Perhaps he could shave him after they finished talking.

  He continued reading while he waited.

  With a snort Mr. Dumfarthing woke again. “As I was saying, money needs to be used wisely, and I have been praying for the wisdom God has promised as to the way ahead. Mrs. Howard will have the use of this house as long as she desires; then it is to be sold and the money distributed to the libraries here in town and the surrounding area. The remainder of the money is to go to
you, and I count on you to use it wisely for yourself, your church, and your school. You did get the teaching position, did you not?”

  Jacob nodded. “I heard the day before I received your letter.”

  “I want you to take a portion of money with you. You’ll find that in the brown leather envelope. The remainder I suggest you leave in the hands of my solicitor. He will make sure you receive monthly dividends. Or would you rather have them quarterly?”

  “Ah…”

  “I see. I believe the minister of a church should receive money on a monthly basis, so that is how it will be, then. Do you have any questions?”

  “Ah…” Jacob tried to clear his throat. Please, Lord, give me the right words. “All I can think to say is thank you. Are you sure you understand what you are doing?”

  “Believe me, son, I understand. I thank our God every day for you, and I have prayed that you will fulfill God’s will for your life as you helped me to finish out mine.”

  “But I did—I have done so little.”

  “That depends on whose viewpoint you are seeing.” Again that dry chuckle. He sighed. “I have more for you to do for me if you will.”

  “Anything.”

  “I would like you to conduct my funeral. I have written all the instructions there. You can read them later. I spoke with our minister, and he is in full agreement that you will do the service. He will take care of whatever arrangements are needed. He knows my wishes.”

  “I see.”

  “Now, I know Mrs. Howard has fixed us something to eat, and when I ring that bell, she will come right in. Before that, do you have any questions?”

  Jacob shook his head. “Not at the moment, but I’m sure some will come.” How will I come back in time to do his funeral? Lord, I don’t want to say good-bye.

  Mr. Dumfarthing reached for the bell and knocked it over. “Can’t even ring the bell right. Lord God, it is time.”

  Jacob picked up the bell and rang it.

  The door opened, and Mrs. Howard wheeled in a tea cart with plates and service for two.