by Dawn Kinzer
Ben raised his palms, displaying streaks of dried blue and green paint. “I’ll never use my hands to hurt another person again.”
She’d called him a coward that day for not stepping in to stop the fight—the same thing Percy had called him on the school grounds. No wonder he’d become so irritable with her.
Her heart ached for the fifteen-year-old artist who was not a boy, yet not a man when he experienced such trauma. There still had to be a way for him to share his gift. His talent shouldn’t be hidden forever.
“I’m so sorry, Ben, for what you’ve carried all these years.” Hope reached toward him, and not waiting for him to respond, laid her hand on his. “But I...” She closed her eyes. Lord, help me. Give me the right words. She raised her eyelids. Ben was staring at her.
“But what, Hope?” He squeezed her hand.
His warm touch made her heart sprint like a thoroughbred racing down a track. “Do you remember that Sunday afternoon after I first arrived in Riverton? You and Jake came for lunch after church.”
“I remember.”
“You said then that you believed God has a specific plan for each person. That no one should worry about people’s opinions, only what God thinks. Did you mean it? Do you really believe that?”
“I do...” Ben’s voice had taken a defensive tone, and his body stiffened just enough for her to notice.
Hope’s breathing became shallow, and it felt like her lungs were starving for air. “That afternoon we shared our desires for the future, or at least Jake, Annie, and I did. We talked about how, even though we see our lives going one way, we can head in that direction, and then suddenly our paths can go in a different direction. I may have a plan for my future, but God’s design is always better than whatever we can imagine.”
“God knows best.”
“He does.” She wrapped her hands around his. “Do you have any dreams, Ben? Did you ever?”
“Of course. There was a time when I wanted to have my paintings shown in a gallery or hanging in homes. Not so I’d be known or to make a lot of money. To have them inspire or bring some kind of pleasure would be enough for me. Those aspirations had to die.” He slipped away from her and stood. “Hope, you have to accept that I can’t bring myself...” Ben squeezed his eyes shut tight as though in pain, then opened them, exposing his sorrow. “My paintings are and will remain between God and me. They’ll never leave this room.”
“Ben...”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He returned the stool to the corner. “I think we should go up to the house. We can share the supper you brought.”
They left the shed and walked side by side, but Hope carried a heavy heart. She wanted so much for him, and she believed God did, too, if only Ben would accept it.
In her sadness, she grieved his unwillingness to even explore the possibility, but there was something else at stake. Hope was drawn to him, but she could never consider having a close relationship if he didn’t understand how important it was to not give up on a dream.
Hope was convinced his talent should be shared, but Ben wouldn’t back down.
Well, neither would she.
chapteR ELEVEN
Hope glanced at the store’s wall clock. How could it be almost four? A sale had prompted greater numbers to walk through the doors that day. Hope had little time to breathe between tending to customers, but her spirits were so light she barely noticed her throbbing feet.
“Annie, when are you taking a break?” Hope tried to temper her excitement.
“I’m taking a few minutes for a glass of cold water now. This July heat is unbearable.” Annie wiped her glistening forehead with a white embroidered handkerchief, then rearranged several items on the china display in front of them. “Did you need help with anything? It’s been like a beehive in here all day with people buzzing in and out.”
“I missed my scheduled break because of taking care of a customer who couldn’t make up her mind between a bolt of green cotton fabric and a bolt of green cotton fabric.”
Annie raised her eyebrows.
“I’m serious. Same material, but the shades of green were light and lighter. I could barely tell the difference.”
Annie chuckled.
“I mustered all the patience I could, and then I prayed for more.” Hope gave a small laugh. She didn’t see the humor in it then, but could now. “The important thing is that she left the store happy, and Mr. Carter told me to take some time for myself as soon as business slowed down. So, I’m taking a break with you.” Hope would have leaped into the air if it had only been the two of them in the room. “I couldn’t wait until tonight to tell you.”
“Come on. That glass of water is beckoning me, and I need to find out what’s got you all lit up like a firefly on a summer’s night.” She led the way to the back room, opened the ice box, and poured two glasses of chilled water. Annie took a quick drink and sighed, a mixture of relief and pleasure on her face. “Out with it.”
“Annie, I finally heard from her. Eva Lancaster!” Hope pulled an envelope from her skirt pocket and grinned. “This letter came today.”
“Well, what did she say?” Annie plopped down in a chair at a small table and gestured for Hope to do the same.
She slid onto a seat, withdrew the letter from the envelope, and unfolded the paper so it lay flat on the table. “Let me read it to you.” Hope cleared her throat and took a deep breath.
Dear Hope,
Please forgive me for not responding sooner, but I just received your mother’s letter. I’ve been in Paris for several months and have just returned to Minneapolis.
Although we haven’t corresponded frequently over the years, I always think of your mother fondly and how kind she was to me while I lived in New York.
If you ever make a trip to Minneapolis, I’d love to have you join me for supper. It would give me great pleasure to share anything that might help you in the world of fashion. If you bring some of your sketches, I’ll give you an honest opinion of your designs. In this business, you’ll need to accept criticism along with any praise or you’ll not survive. It takes a great deal of courage to put our creative work—our hearts—out there for the world to judge. It can help to hear the truth from a friend before doing so.
I’ve been thinking of your parents in Panama and the work they’re trying to accomplish there. I’ll pray for them every day. I’ll pray for you, too, that you would seek God’s guidance in all you do and that God’s plan is made known to you, whether it be in the fashion world or elsewhere. Peace be with you.
Warmly,
Eva Lancaster
Annie propped her elbow on the table and dropped her chin into her hand. “My goodness. She sounds like a wonderful lady. Sophisticated, smart, and nice.”
“Doesn’t she? And can you imagine staying in Paris for several months? I don’t think I’d sleep a wink the entire time. I’d be too afraid of missing something.” Hope smoothed the letter, then folded it and returned it to the envelope. “I need to go to Minneapolis as soon as possible, Annie.”
A knock sounded on the door, it opened slightly, and Rebecca poked her head around the side. “May I come in?”
“What is it, Rebecca?” Annie sat up and her expression grew serious. “Not bad news, is it?”
“No! Not at all.” Rebecca stepped inside and joined them at the table. “I just talked to the mayor. The council is calling a special meeting tonight, and they want Mrs. Jorgenson, you, and me to be there. This is it. They must have made their decision. They’re either going to sell the house to the interested buyer or let us have our library.”
***
Hope had tried to work on a design for a jacket and skirt while Annie attended the town council meeting, but she couldn’t concentrate, so she’d read again the letter sent by her closest friend, Charlotte, savoring the news from New York. She enjoyed hearing about the parties, the couples courting, and who was now in the family way. Relief always accompanied each message c
onfirming Charlotte thwarting Henry’s latest attempt at enticing her to disclose Hope’s location.
Although grateful for Charlotte’s loyalty, Hope also ached at putting her friend in a precarious position. But Charlotte believed Henry wouldn’t risk bruising his reputation by harming her. She’d warned him that she wouldn’t keep her tongue still if he did, and he’d already experienced embarrassment over the broken engagement to Hope. He wouldn’t want his friends and associates aware of his darker side—or thinking him weak. With his usual flair, Henry had presented Hope’s disappearance as a reaction to his decision to call off the wedding. She didn’t care what people thought, as long as he left her alone.
The clock on the mantel chimed nine times. For the last hour, she’d prayed that God’s will would be done and that Annie would have peace about the council’s decision, whether they accepted or denied the proposal for a library.
Restless, Hope pulled back the lacy curtain from the parlor window and peered outside. The sun’s last rays were peeking through the trees on the horizon, but Annie was nowhere in sight.
It must be a good sign that she’d been gone for several hours. Annie would have returned earlier if the library proposal had been turned down. Or, she could have been upset and gone somewhere to be alone.
If only Hope had been permitted to be there. Even the possibility of her cousin’s disappointment made Hope nervous. Annie had put so much of her heart into planning all the details, even to the point of listing hundreds of books that would cover all the genres she wanted to see on the shelves. Hope paced for several minutes, then put a kettle of water on the stove.
A horse neighed. Hope strained her ears, then rushed to the door and swung it open. Annie waved, and a large grin spread across her face. She drove around to the side of the house toward the stable and carriage house where she’d unhitch the horse and settle him for the night. Rebecca followed Annie in another buggy, but she disembarked in front of the house and tied her horse to a post.
Hope stepped out onto the porch. “Rebecca, I’ve been as anxious to hear about the meeting as a father waiting for his first babe to be born.” She held the door open and stood aside. “Please. Come in and make yourself at home. I’ll make some tea.”
“Thank you.” There was a gleam in Rebecca’s eyes, but she didn’t share any news, which Hope appreciated. Whatever the verdict, it was Annie’s moment, and it shouldn’t be taken away from her.
Hope brought a tray with three cups of steaming tea, dessert plates, and a larger plate piled with sugar cookies into the parlor at the same moment Annie stepped inside. Hope set the tray down. “Oh, Annie, I can’t stand the suspense any longer.”
Annie grabbed Hope by the waist and twirled her around, laughing. “It’s ours! The members unanimously agreed to let us turn the old house into a town library.”
Hope hugged her cousin. “That’s wonderful, Annie. I’m so happy for you.”
“I couldn’t have done it without Rebecca and Mrs. Jorgenson. Their interest helped convince the council that a library was important in a small town, and that we could make it work.”
Rebecca’s eyes glistened.
“Are you all right, Rebecca?” Hope offered her a cup of tea and sat on the settee next to her.
“I’m fine.” Rebecca turned away for a brief moment, then cleared her throat. “I know the library is important to you, Annie. But, you don’t know...” She took a deep breath. “It means a great deal to be a part of it. I know you’re not fond of me, and the only reason you agreed to let me help is because the council might respect my position as a teacher.”
“You’re right.” Annie stared into her cup. “I didn’t like you because you were mean and arrogant. And I didn’t trust you after what you did to Reverend Caswell and Sarah. You almost tore them apart.”
“Annie...” Hope needed to stop this before a night of celebration turned into something entirely different.
“But, I’ve seen you work hard to change.” Annie paused, seeming to choose her next words carefully. “These past weeks, I’ve actually grown to trust you.” Her eyes warmed, and she offered a half smile. “I’m grateful you’re devoted to building the library. I was telling the truth when I said I couldn’t do it without you.”
Hope breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you, God.
“I’m glad, Annie.” Rebecca sniffed. “Really glad.”
Annie took a gulp of tea, then reached for a cookie. “We have a lot of work ahead of us, but I think it’s possible to have the library in full operation before September.”
“That gives us only six weeks. Are you sure that’s feasible?” Hope’s head began to swim with all that had to be accomplished within that timeframe.
“It’s been all laid out, and since the town council agreed to the schedule we proposed, we have to stand by our word and at least open the doors by the first Saturday in September. Otherwise, we lose our credibility with them and the town.”
Hope rubbed the side of her teacup with her thumb. “I think you’re asking too much of yourself. Maybe you should trust the townspeople for a little understanding and grace if things don’t go as planned.”
“I understand why Annie is so adamant that we open by then.” Rebecca spoke as though she’d already given the timing some thought. “If we ever need to go back to the town council for anything pertaining to the library, we’ll have already proven that we can follow through on our commitments.”
Annie nodded. “We have access to some books through the library in Martindale. The town and librarians have agreed to share some of their books on a rotation basis. As soon as we build up a strong offering, we’ll lend them a number of books for a set amount of time as well. Both towns benefit.”
“Of course, first things first.” Rebecca seemed to bring some necessary logic to the mix, balancing out Annie’s enthusiastic energy. “We have a list of volunteers who are willing to do manual labor on the old house. Bookshelves also need to be built. But before any of that can be done, we need to raise money for supplies—and for enough books to get us started.”
“That’s where the fundraising event comes in, but when and where?” Hope took a large bite of her sugar cookie. Good thing it almost melted in her mouth. She could have easily choked on it as distracted as she was by the conversation.
“A Saturday would be best, when there are more people in town doing their shopping. Let’s plan for August thirteenth. That only gives us three weeks, but we can’t hold it any later than that.” Annie put her teacup on the tray, then almost jumped from her seat and began to pace. “I believe the best place is on the library’s front lawn. You know, draw attention to the location. Let people get a feel for what we’re trying to accomplish. Help others experience a sense of our vision.”
“It’s perfect.” Rebecca caught Hope’s eye. “We need to make some notes. Is there paper...”
“I’ll get it.” Hope was on her feet before Rebecca had finished the question. She found paper and a fountain pen in a desk drawer. “I’ll try to write as fast as you two come up with suggestions.”
“We need to solicit donations for the auction, but I think there might be people who would be willing to set up booths of baked and canned goods for sale and then donate the proceeds to the library.” Annie’s tone became more excited the longer she talked. “What if we included games for the children?”
“Make it a community event, almost like a fair.” Rebecca’s eyes brightened.
“Those are wonderful ideas, but we have to advertise if we’re going to entice anyone to come.” Hope scrawled as fast as she could. “I’ll be happy to make colorful signs to post in the businesses around town.” It would be fun, and it would also give her some satisfaction to use her artistic talents for some good. “We can get flyers printed in Martindale and distribute them and flyers there too.”
Rebecca brushed cookie crumbs from her fingers onto her dessert plate. “I’ll submit an article to the newspapers in the surrounding towns—at
least those large enough to have papers. They may not print it, but I can at least try.”
“I’ve already promised the town council that I’ll keep detailed, accurate records of any donations and raised funds and how the money is spent.” Annie went to the desk, withdrew a ledger, and held it in the air. “I purchased this the other day on faith.” She grinned, then sat next to Hope. “Jake and Ben will help us find people who are willing to offer their time or goods for sale the day of the event. Mrs. Jorgenson has a way with many of the women in town—they love and respect her. Mr. Carter may give us permission to put up a sign at the store, and I mean a large sign, explaining the need for donations.”
Hope laid the pen down and reached over and squeezed her cousin’s hand. “You’re making your wish come true, Annie.”
“Riverton is going to have its own library. Imagine that.” Annie beamed. “A place here in our own community where children and adults can explore and go on so many adventures just by opening the pages of our books.”
Hope smiled with confidence that the library would come to fruition and provide a blessing to the community.
Annie looked at Rebecca and then Hope. “I’ve prayed for something like this, and now that it’s really happening, it’s all a little overwhelming. Not that I don’t believe we can follow through or that the work will be too much. But just in seeing that God is good and faithful, just like you said, Hope.”
“I understand.” It was a bit thrilling to be a part of Annie’s journey and watch her grow into a closer relationship with God through this experience. She’d prayed along with Annie for the library to become a reality. Yet a hint of envy nagged Hope. When would God give her the desires of her heart? When would her own dreams come true?
Truth whispered a needed reminder within. The first night Hope arrived in Riverton, she’d told Annie that God would do his part, but she also needed to do hers. Eva Lancaster had not only invited Hope to join her for supper if she ever visited Minneapolis, but she’d offered to give her opinion on Hope’s sketches. That would never happen unless she made the journey.
