We worked together every day at the hospital. Surely I can come up with enough conversation on the way to and from church. I certainly won’t have to speak during it.
Elizabeth came down the stairs, having donned a pair of black gloves and an equally drab bonnet. He wasn’t dressed any more colorfully, and, given the pain that still raked his soul every time he thought of his brother’s passing, he didn’t want to be. Elizabeth, however, looked even more grave. Black dress, black cuffs, black collar, black shoes. He longed for the day when her heart would feel light enough to wrap itself in the colors of life.
The conflict inside him intensified. He missed his brother terribly and yet at the same time wanted Elizabeth to lay his memory to rest.
“Thank you for waiting,” she said.
Though he knew for his sake he should not offer his arm to her, his parents had raised him to be a gentleman. Escorting a lady was proper. If I don’t do it, she will think something is wrong. She may think I am angry with her for coming to me.
Anger was the farthest thing from his mind.
So he offered his arm. The moment she touched him, he felt his heart quicken. He tried to remember who he was. He was here to protect her. He was here for her assistance, nothing more.
He could feel the tension in her grip as they made their way up the sidewalk. David knew she was nervous, this being her first time in public since the funeral. He was nervous for her, as well. How would she respond to their fellow congregants when they greeted her? How would he?
They continued up the street. The sunlight filtered through the cherry trees, and blossoms floated on the breeze. It was a glorious God-given day, yet Elizabeth walked with her head down, looking as though she were being led not to worship but to her execution. David stopped. He could not stand to see her in so much pain.
“Do you want to go back?” he asked.
She gave her head a shake, but it was so slight that David couldn’t tell if it was a yes or a no. Elizabeth let go of his arm, then laid her hand across her narrow waist. Evidently she was struggling to breathe.
God, help her.
“I know I must do this,” she said.
“You don’t have to do it for my sake.”
She shook her head again, this time more definitively. In the distance the church bell tolled. “Mother says I should be in church. I know she is right, but the thought of...”
When she didn’t finish her sentence, David tried to encourage her. How he longed to know what she was thinking. “The thought of?”
She drew in a ragged breath. “The thought of facing them frightens me.”
“Facing who? Your friends?”
She nodded, bit her lip. “What am I to do if they ask me how I am? What am I to tell them?”
“The truth.” Even as David said that, the accusation fired back at him. You’re a fine one to speak of such things. He tried to focus on what she was saying.
“That isn’t the answer I’m supposed to give.”
“What do you mean?”
“I am supposed to say, ‘My faith is sustaining me.’ That ‘God’s grace is sufficient.’”
And obviously it wasn’t. Or at least she didn’t think it was.
“I can’t say that.”
“Then, don’t,” he said.
Elizabeth blinked. “Don’t?”
“If they truly are your friends, they will understand. Haven’t they each known hardship and loss, as well?” If he remembered correctly, one had lost a brother at Gettysburg, and another had a brother who had been taken prisoner of war.
She sighed, lowered her chin. Cherry blossoms dusted her bonnet, brightening the drab fabric with a smattering of pink. “They handle it all so much better than I,” she said. “They are constantly knitting socks, baking bread, praying for sick prisoners and slaves.”
“And don’t you do the same? Jeremiah told me of the items you collected on behalf of the Christian Commission last fall, and I saw how many times you prayed with those men at the hospital.”
Her expression hardened, yet her chin quivered. “A lot of good that did.”
Now he realized what this conversation was really about. This had nothing to do with her friends. It had to do with God. She thought He had abandoned her. His heart ached. Lord, please give me the words...
“I prayed so hard, David. My family prayed. My friends prayed. And yet...”
“War still came.” He drew in a breath of his own, understanding exactly what she was feeling. He had prayed, as well. So had his brother. Their father had even held prayer meetings at his church, patterned after the ones started in New York City.
In the wake of the financial collapse of 1857, Christians had gathered each day on their lunch hour to ask God to bring about a spiritual awakening in this land. With the poor economy and the prospect of a war between the states looming, they had realized the problems of this nation were too big to solve on their own. They had cried out to the Almighty for help. They had repented of their known sins, had tried to live in peace with their neighbors.
They had done the same in Baltimore, but the results were not what Elizabeth had hoped for. Tears pooled in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter how many prayers we offer or how many socks we knit,” she said. “The fighting still continues. Everyone I love dies.”
“We all die, Elizabeth. It’s the world we live in. The thing is being prepared for it. Perhaps that’s the difference those prayers made. How many soldiers went off to war scared at the prospect of their earthly future but certain of their eternal one?”
She looked at him with those sorrow-filled green eyes but said nothing. How he wanted to help, but, oh, how he wished his brother was here. Jeremiah had his doubts like any other Christian, but once he’d determined to take a matter on faith, he never wavered. David wasn’t so strong.
“We can’t stop praying just because our prayers aren’t answered the way we hoped, Elizabeth. We have to have faith. We have to believe that God is at work, that He has a purpose, even in the suffering.”
“Why did you become a soldier, David?” she asked. “Were your reasons the same as Jeremiah’s? To preserve the Union, to make it as it should be?”
It was a reference to freeing the slaves. “To be quite honest, I joined to preserve my brother. I enlisted because he did. I didn’t want to fight. I was never more relieved than when the army handed the two of us bandage rolls instead of muskets.”
He hadn’t intended on saying that last part. He’d never told anyone such a thing before. As far as everyone back home in Massachusetts knew, he’d wholeheartedly been willing to sacrifice his life on the altar of his country, without reservation. But now she knows differently, and lest she think him a copperhead or, worse, a coward, he tried to explain.
“As for slavery, I believe the same as Jeremiah. It is a man’s duty to look after the downtrodden. But hearts won’t be changed by the point of a bayonet. They’ll only be changed by the truth of God’s Word. That’s why I’m so eager to cover this vote on the state constitution. If I can convey His principles, I believe I can make a difference.”
“My brother thought he was going to make a difference.” Her voice sounded very far away. “After what happened on Pratt Street, he feared Washington would jail anyone who disagreed with the idea of an all-powerful federal government. He believed it was his duty to stand up for the rights of his state, even if he didn’t agree with all of the current laws.” Her chin quivered once more. “He thought God would be on his side.”
If David had a dollar for every man in the war who believed the same, he’d be a wealthy man. Yet Union soldiers died alongside rebels, and abolitionists with slave holders. “If you’re looking for a way to reconcile God’s presence in all of this, Elizabeth, I can only offer you one answer. We are sinful people. We do terrible things, a
nd yet in spite of that, He loves us. He gave His son to die for us, to pay the penalty for our wrongdoing, so that one day we may be with Him in a place where there is no more suffering.”
Tears trickled down her face. For one second he almost reached out and brushed them away, but remembering his place, he handed her his handkerchief instead.
“As dark and as difficult as this life is,” he said, “God is still at work. He promises us that He will never leave us, never forsake us.”
“Is that promise enough for you?” she asked. The question was an honest one, an aching for truth. He could see the struggle on her face, the struggle to believe. “Is God, Himself, enough for you?”
He paused. David knew what would happen when he died. He had never doubted God’s promise of salvation. He had done his best to make peace with the cost of this war, with his brother’s passing. He believed it was his duty to return to Baltimore. He was thankful to still be part of Elizabeth’s life.
But he wanted more.
“No,” he admitted. “At times He’s not. But I don’t believe that’s because of any lacking on His part.”
She sighed, but he couldn’t tell if it was one of resignation or relief.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what?”
“For being honest. You have always told me the truth. I appreciate that.”
Not always, Elizabeth.
His heart was pounding. Once more he searched for the appropriate words, only to realize he had none to offer. But it isn’t my words she needs, he then thought. From the pocket of his sack coat he pulled out a small soldier’s Bible. “I want you to have this.”
“I can’t take your Bible.”
“It’s not mine. It’s his.”
Immediately she reached for it.
“Read it, Elizabeth. It will help.”
Her hands trembled as she pressed the frayed, tattered scriptures to her heart. In the distance the church bell continued to chime.
“It’s your choice,” he said. “If you wish to return home, I’ll take you.”
She looked toward her house. David was sure that was the direction she’d choose. She surprised him.
“No,” she said. “I’ll go with you to church.”
“Are you certain?”
She drew in a hesitant breath. “Yes. Mother wishes for us to do so. But, David...”
“Yes?”
“Will you stay close to me? The thought of facing everyone still frightens me.”
The fact that she would even wish for him to do so warmed his heart. “I promise. I’ll stay with you.”
And with one hand on his elbow and the other holding Jeremiah’s Bible, Elizabeth took her first tentative steps forward.
Chapter Five
By the time they stepped into church, the service was just about to begin. Worshippers were already seated in their pews. Elizabeth felt the weight of their glances as David led her down the aisle. She could hear their whispers, and although she could not make out the specific words, she was certain the congregants were speaking about them.
Clutching her beloved’s Bible close, she and David claimed their place in her family’s pew. After the customary hymns and prayers, Reverend Perry took to the pulpit and began to preach. Elizabeth tried to listen but soon became more interested in Jeremiah’s Bible than the actual sermon.
She had given up weeks ago trying to read the Scriptures. The pages always blurred. The words jumbled together so that she couldn’t even remember what she’d just read, let alone find any comfort in it. The pages of Jeremiah’s Bible, though, were frayed, well worn. It appeared her fiancé had studied them repeatedly. Had he also battled fear and uncertainty? Did he struggle to believe, as well? Or had he accepted without question the sovereign hand of God in life and death?
Elizabeth did not know. There were so many things she did not know about him, so much she had never been able to ask. Glancing at David, she wondered what he might be able tell her. She knew he and Jeremiah had been close. Surely they must have talked about such things.
At present, David’s attention was fixed solely on Reverend Perry. Elizabeth couldn’t tell if he was simply concentrating on the sermon or was lost in thought himself. His forehead was furrowed, and he was crunching hard on a peppermint drop.
She turned her attention back to the Bible. Reverently she fingered through the pages, hoping to find some notation or marking, anything that might offer further insight into her beloved’s thoughts. She found one in the book of Hebrews, and the feeling of connection to him made her heart squeeze and yet leap with joy at the same time. Jeremiah had underlined a particular verse in Chapter Thirteen. Elizabeth examined it carefully.
“...for he hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee... The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do to me.”
The word never had been circled.
“I will never leave thee...”
Elizabeth gasped as the words sank in. David immediately turned to look at her. Lest he fear she was ill or on the verge of causing a scene, she quickly pointed to the verse. He had admitted that at times he felt as if God was distant. The same thoughts must have plagued Jeremiah, as well, or why else would he have marked such a verse?
David offered her a sad yet gentle smile, and as soon as the service ended he said, “I see you found his verse.”
Elizabeth read it out loud. “I will never leave thee nor forsake thee...”
He nodded slowly. “Elizabeth, Jeremiah had his share of doubts and unanswered questions, as well, but instead of dwelling on them, he took them straight to God.”
Knowing that gave her a small measure of comfort. For if two upstanding, abolition-subscribing minister’s sons still fell prey to fear and doubt, perhaps she was not so far off course that she could not return. I have never doubted that God exists, she thought. I just don’t know where He has gone.
David looked as though he were about to say something else, but he did not have the opportunity. Julia, Sally and Rebekah had come running. Elizabeth drew in a quick, shallow breath as she and David both stood.
Julia hugged her immediately. “I am so pleased to see you,” she said. “I have missed you so.”
“We’ve been praying for you,” Rebekah said. “Both of you.”
“Yes,” Sally added, embracing Elizabeth, also. “I know how hard it was for me after my brother died. I couldn’t come to church for weeks. I couldn’t even face the sewing circle. It was just too difficult.”
Elizabeth had forgotten that. David caught her eye.
See, he seemed to say. They aren’t any different than you or me.
She breathed fully for the first time since the service had ended. Her friends’ kind understanding, coupled with David’s quiet presence, calmed her heart. The inquisition she feared had not come. Julia, Sally and Rebekah were most gracious. Not one of them asked how she was feeling. They seemed to already know.
Julia then asked about her mother and Trudy. Elizabeth explained what had happened.
“Oh, dear,” Julia said. “My mother suffers from those headaches at times. Is there anything I might do? Why don’t I bring you some soup this evening and some fresh bread?” She must have seen the hesitancy on Elizabeth’s face, for Julia then added, “I promise only to bring the meal. I won’t stay to wash the dishes, clean the kitchen or anything else.”
She offered her a smile, and Elizabeth felt one tugging at the corners of her own mouth. She appreciated Julia’s generosity and the fact that her friend was willing to respect her privacy.
“Thank you,” she said. “That would be very kind.”
David again caught her eye. His look told her she had just done a good thing.
Julia turned to him. “We are so grateful you have
returned, David. Trudy tells us you have been most helpful.”
Indeed he has, Elizabeth thought, and although it was still a test of strength to be on his arm, she was thankful he was with her.
* * *
After Elizabeth’s friends had gone, David led her home. If someone had asked him what the sermon had been about today, he couldn’t have answered. All throughout the service he had been distracted. His mind kept imagining what might have been if only he had spoken up when he had the opportunity.
We would be sitting in my father’s church, in my family’s pew. Her hand would brush mine as we stood to sing. My ring would be on her finger.
There was one on her hand now. David remembered all too vividly the day his brother had asked him to accompany him to the jewelry store.
“No,” David had said crossly, “I don’t want to spend my only day’s liberty shopping.”
Jeremiah, however, had been persistent. “Come on. I need your help. You know how important this is. I want to make certain I get something she will like.”
So he’d swallowed his heart and gone. Jeremiah had succeeded, for Elizabeth treasured her pearl engagement ring.
David’s heart squeezed. Everything within him wanted to go back to the day he had convinced his brother to postpone the wedding. He wanted them to be happy, and yet still inside him the battle raged. He wanted to be the one to make her happy.
But that can never be.
Her tender voice pulled him back to the present.
“I appreciate you staying beside me when the girls came to speak to us.”
Her beautiful sunset-red hair was overshadowed by that drab black bonnet, but her eyes seemed a little brighter than before. For that, he told himself, he should be thankful. “I promised you I would.”
She nodded slightly. “I want to thank you again for Jeremiah’s Bible. I promise I will continue to read it, although it may take me a while. My concentration isn’t what it used to be. I can’t seem to comprehend much more than a verse at a time.”
“I can understand that.”
Second Chance Love Page 7
