by DiAnn Mills
“Can I speak with you a moment?” Concern rippled through the boy’s voice.
“Sure, what’s bothering you?”
“If you don’t mind, I’m not ready to move back home.”
The announcement didn’t surprise Travis. “I’m fine with you living with me. You’re good company, and I have someone to practice my cooking and sermons on.” Truth be known, he’d grown right fond of the boy, and now that Zack had a relationship with the Lord, they’d have more good times than bad ones.
“Thanks. Maybe Mama can show you a few things about the cooking part.”
“Well, we can ask her.” He clamped a hand on Zack’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Today could have made you angrier than before.”
“But it didn’t. Do I still need to write those papers about the people in my life?”
Travis raised a brow.
Zack grinned. “Didn’t think it would hurt to ask.”
*****
Travis believed the War Between the States had settled the issues about blacks and whites, but a lot of folks didn’t share those beliefs. And that included many white Christians. The man before him had tried his patience until Travis bit his tongue to keep from saying exactly what he thought about basing a man’s intelligence or spiritual life on the color of his skin.
Through the night sounds of singing insects, Lester Hillman repeated what he’d already said a dozen times. “Piney Woods Cemetery is full of good white folks. Burying a colored man there defaces those holy grounds. Roy Greely isn’t welcome there. And the Dawson family made it clear to me that their mother wasn’t going to be laid in the same cemetery as Greely.”
“I think you’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel,” Travis said. “Show me in the Bible where God says a man has to have white skin to get into heaven.”
Lester chuckled. “Then put the man in a black cemetery, but not where we have family and friends. I understand not everyone thinks like I do, but you’re about as far south as you can go. We have our beliefs about how life is. My money—”
“I know what your money does, Lester. But it doesn’t buy me. Bonnie Kahler requested Roy Greely be buried in Piney Woods Cemetery. I believe she has a few loved ones there.”
“You’d comply to anything Bonnie requested.”
Travis sensed his temper a mere inch from exploding. “I’ll forget your last remark.”
Lester leaned forward. “Then bury the man somewhere else, or folks are going to get an earful about a lot of things.”
“Such as?”
“You and Bonnie. Her drinking. Whatever it takes. I’m not particular.”
And you call yourself a God-fearing man? “Fine, Lester. Not because of me, but because of Mrs. Kahler’s reputation. Your lies will catch up with you one day. Mark my word. In the meantime, she offered Roy a final resting place on her ranch.” He mentally counted to ten, then started over.
Lester stood and scooted his chair back under Travis’s kitchen table. “I think you’re learning real fast how I control this town. It’s a lesson you need to take note of if you want to survive. I don’t mind helping folks and the community, but I expect my say in things.”
Travis rethought what he wanted to say and rose to his feet. He eyed Lester straight on. “Any power you might have in this town, God will yank away when the time is right. As for me, I don’t need or want your money.”
“We understand what kind of man you are,” Zack said.
Travis whirled around to see his charge leaning against the side of the outside door, hands stuffed in his overalls.
“You need to teach that kid how to respect his elders,” Lester said.
“He has.” Zack eyed him evenly. “But he’s also taught me that folks have to earn respect. I’ve seen what you tried to do with my mother. I won’t forget it, and if I need to, the whole town will know. The only reason I haven’t gone to my uncles is because of Mrs. Hillman. She’s a good woman, and I’d hate to see her hurt.”
Lester raised his hand as if to strike the boy, but Travis stepped in his path. “Try hitting someone more your size. Then explain it to the good people of Kahlerville.”
Lester pushed past Travis and shoved Zack to the floor on his way out the door. Travis started after him, but Zack stopped him.
“No harm done, Brother Travis. I’m all right.”
Travis clenched his fists. Lester reminded him of men he’d rather forget. Men from his Tennessee home. He reached down and pulled Zack to his feet.
“I’m sorry you saw how my temper nearly got the best of me.” Travis shook his head to dispel his anger.
“You saw mine, too, so we’re even. Brother Travis, you ain’t—I mean aren’t—anything like I thought a preacher would be.”
“What did you expect?”
“You act like . . . a normal man.”
Travis chuckled despite the moment. “I am, Zack. I’m no different from any other man. I do my best to let God guide and direct me in all I do—just like every God-fearin’ person. The difference with me is I’ve accepted the calling of shepherding God’s people and telling others the good news of the gospel. Someday I’ll have to answer to God about the way I’ve done my job. I strive to be a good example for others, but I still make mistakes. If Lester had hit me, I’d have turned the other cheek, but hurting you is another matter. I think the mountain man in me might’ve come through.”
“If you had hit Lester, would that be a sin?”
Travis tugged at his beard. “To me—and I could be wrong—if I’d let him lay his fists into you, that would have been a sin. Fighting’s wrong, but sometimes a man has to choose between two wrongs instead of a right and a wrong.”
Confusion burrowed into Zack’s brow. “Two wrong things? I thought God showed us what was right and wrong.”
“Not always.” Travis’s mind trailed back to Tennessee and Felicia. Seemed like his mind too often slipped back to those days of bad choices and wrong decisions. Guess he’d never figure out what was right until he met his Maker.
“So tomorrow we have two funerals?” Zack said.
“Yes, son. Mrs. Dawson at ten, and Roy Greely at one.”
“I once saw Roy cut his arm on some barbed wire. His blood was the same color as mine. I didn’t think about it much at the time, but now I reckon I’ll never forget it.”
Zack spoke exactly what was on Travis’s mind. Couldn’t fault the boy for what he’d said to Lester. Nope, couldn’t fault him at all.
*****
Bonnie lifted her pen from her journal. She wrote small so as not to waste any of the paper, but some days, she seemed to swell up with things to say. Zack had walked to the altar at church this morning to show all that he’d made a choice for Jesus. She’d cried like a baby, but her tears were of joy unbounded. Mama and the reverend shed a few tears, too. Ben must be dancing a jig in heaven. After she carefully recorded every word, she leaned back in her chair and daydreamed a little.
This afternoon she’d had an idea, a simply wonderful way to get the young women out of Heaven’s Gate and into the beautiful fall weather. When she drove to town tomorrow for her volunteer day, she’d discuss it with Sylvia.
*****
“What do you think about taking the girls on a pecan-gathering and picnic?” Bonnie said to Sylvia the following morning. “We could even make pies the next day.”
Sylvia smiled, a special look that lit up her face and rivaled any sunset. “Perfect, Bonnie. A perfect idea. Let’s do it tomorrow. The girls are cooped up here far too often. Rosie and Laura have been quiet, rather distant, and Daisy’s been staying in her room. Not sure what might be bothering them, so maybe this will brighten their spirits.”
“I stopped at Morgan’s office this morning. He has plenty of pecans this year and said for us to pick all we
want. Should we ask my mother and the reverend? What about Brother Travis and Zack?”
“Sounds like we’re going to have an early Thanksgiving,” Sylvia said. “I love the idea. Let’s tell the girls right now before Laura leaves for work. While we’re quilting, we can plan the picnic.” She laughed lightly and touched Bonnie’s arm. “Let’s all take a stroll to Brother Travis’s house and give him and Zack a personal invitation.” She stepped closer. “You’re spending a lot of time with Brother Whitworth. Be careful about wagging tongues.”
“Sylvia, where did you hear such nonsense?”
When the woman didn’t respond, Bonnie fought to control her temper. “Was it from your husband?”
The woman glanced away, and Bonnie had her answer. Didn’t Sylvia ever question Lester’s actions?
The suggestion of something different perked the girls’ attitudes. However, Bonnie fretted over the saddened looks still persisting on the girls’ faces. Only Rosie used to be this way. What had changed?
“We can leave the moment the bank closes on Wednesday noon. I’ll make sure Lester doesn’t keep Laura a moment longer as he sometimes does,” Sylvia said. “We’ll have the food and buckets loaded on the wagon. Oh, I dearly love pecan pie, sugared pecans, and about anything else made with pecans.”
Bonnie intended to ask the girls individually what bothered them. All the young women had pasts that would shock most people, but they’d found the Lord and were living for Him. What had robbed them of their joy?
“We’ll have a grand time,” Sylvia said. “I’d ask Lester, but he always has so much work to do, and he despises ants. What’s a picnic without a few bugs?”
Bonnie laughed with her, but suddenly Sylvia’s previous statement sent an icy chill to Bonnie’s heart. I’ll make sure Lester doesn’t keep Laura a moment longer as he sometimes does. Surely not. Bonnie pushed the nagging thought from her mind, but it crept back in with more force than before.
Lester had proven his treachery to Sylvia some years before, and he’d threatened Bonnie for reasons she’d never figured out. Surely the man would not approach Laura for . . . favors. He’d known these young women when their profession was not what God desired of them, when he had indulged in the same adulterous type of relationship. Now he claimed to protect and take care of them as if he’d always been a pillar of the community. Bonnie shook her head. Lester had nearly destroyed Sylvia a few years ago with his ways. The poor woman didn’t deserve history repeating itself. If Lester was up to no good, would Laura keep quiet to protect Sylvia? The question rang through Bonnie’s mind because she had been in that situation herself.
I deceived her too. I took the wine when I knew she had no knowledge of it. Bonnie studied Laura’s face. Anguish creased her lovely features as though plagued with an incurable disease.
Bonnie vowed to tell Sylvia the truth soon. She’d form the words to make it sound like she’d been to blame and not Lester. Perhaps she’d discuss the matter with Brother Travis first. He’d help her put together the right thing to say.
Promptly at noon on Wednesday, a wagonload of women, a picnic large enough to feed an army, and two preachers ambled toward the Double H. Bonnie wished Zack had chosen to come along, but he wanted to work on a carpentry project. Brother Travis had laid out directions for a chest to hold firewood, and Zack was eager to build it.
Sometimes she wondered if he avoided her. Sometimes she realized he did.
Brother Travis started singing, and the others joined in. Before long, they were at the Double H. Casey joined them, swinging her bucket as she walked alongside the wagon en route to a huge grove of pecans. The other women jumped down and joined her while the reverend and Brother Travis drove the wagon.
“I feel a little out of place.” The reverend chuckled. “Sure hope you fine ladies don’t plan on talking away the day and making Brother Travis and me gather up the pecans.”
“You wouldn’t want to spoil our fun,” Mama said. “Seems only fair that you pick up the pecans and we make the pies.”
The reverend swung a glance at Brother Travis. “We’re outnumbered, you know.”
“I’d be willing to take them up on the offer,” Brother Travis said. “Providin’ they take turns in bringing Zack and me dinner. My cooking isn’t getting much better.”
“I gave you and Zack a few good recipes. Easy ones.” Bonnie felt as lighthearted as a girl. Juanita had been right. Brother Travis was a good man, and her heart had unknowingly invited him inside. She sensed his gaze and turned her attention his way. Yes, he had been staring, and she didn’t mind at all.
The reverend persuaded Travis to climb one of the pecan trees while the women placed old quilts around the trunk. He shook the branches, and the pecans landed quite nicely, making them easy to gather.
The day sped by, and for a while, Bonnie let the worries plaguing her mind about those living at Heaven’s Gate and Lester’s threats fade into tomorrow. Morgan and Grant were watching him, and if he was up to no good, her brothers would have him apprehended.
*****
Travis noted how the younger women from Heaven’s Gate stayed close to Sylvia. They loved her. Anyone with any sense could see that, and she openly expressed her love for them. But he needed to talk to Sylvia, so he kept one eye out for snakes among the fallen pecans and the other eye on her in hopes of visiting with her in private.
Finally, Sylvia stood alone, staring out over the rolling acres of the Double H. Travis made his way toward her. She turned and smiled wide.
“A pleasant day, don’t you think?” she said. “Just enough of a chill to make us anticipate Thanksgiving and Christmas ahead.”
“I agree. After the twister, all of us needed a little break from our hard days.”
Lester’s insistence upon not burying Roy in the Piney Woods Cemetery stayed fresh on his mind. Travis had a difficult time believing Sylvia shared her husband’s opinions about many of the things the man complained about.
“The young women from Heaven’s Gate sure do love you,” he said. “Reminds me of a hen with her chicks.”
“Oh, and I love them, too. Lester and I never had any children of our own.” She paused. A strange look passed over her face. Then she straightened. “These girls are like my own. So I pretend they are.”
“That simple?”
She smiled and nodded.
“Lester has a saint for a wife.”
She bit into her lip and glanced away. “I understand my husband has made your job a little difficult.”
“I believe he’s voiced his views on a few matters.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need. It’s all a part of being a preacher.” Travis studied her face and saw exactly what he suspected—a lonely woman. He realized propriety stopped her from talking to him about Lester. She probably led an empty life apart from her volunteer work.
“How is Zack doing in your care? I was real happy to see him come forward on Sunday.”
“He’s doing fine. I’m right proud of him. The boy’s turned into a good scholar.”
“Brother Travis, there’s something you should know. I—”
“Miss Sylvia,” Laura said. “We’ve decided to gather more pecans. Do you want to help?”
Sylvia touched Travis’s arm. “Never mind. Wasn’t important.”
Chapter 21
“I forgot the prayer requests,” Travis said, once he and Zack returned from Tuesday night’s prayer meeting. With Thanksgiving on Thursday, they’d changed this week’s service. He opened his Bible to double check if he’d stuck the piece of paper inside as he normally did.
“Do you want me to fetch them?”
A crash of thunder shook the house.
“No, I’ll hurry back to get it before the storm hits.”
“Couldn’t the requests wait unt
il morning?” Zack said.
Travis shook his head and laid his Bible on the kitchen table. “I’ve got myself into a habit of praying for folks night and morning. Done it for years. I won’t be long.”
“Dodge the lightning. And don’t be long, ’cause then I worry.”
Travis laughed. Some days that boy acted like an old man. “I’ll be back before you bring in a load of firewood off the back porch.”
Stepping into the night, Travis saw the sky light up in a jagged streak of lightning. Since the twister, he’d been a mite nervous with nature’s fickle temperament. For certain, he’d not waste time.
He hurried past the various businesses and on toward Heaven’s Gate. As he passed the house, he shot a glance toward the side and saw the shadowy figures of a man and a woman. Whether it was the previous profession of the occupants or the fact the young women lived alone, Travis walked across the road to make sure everything at Heaven’s Gate was all right. There was a lot of truth in darkness covering sin.
He heard voices and stopped. Lester and Rosie.
“No, I won’t, and don’t ask me again,” she said.
Lester chuckled—the overconfident, cocky, grating sound that Travis detested. Excuse me, Lord.
“Now, you don’t mean it at all, Rosie. We have something special, and you can’t deny it.”
“I’ve had enough. You’re a hypocrite. You act like you’re a God-fearin’ man, even read scripture to us. Then you come after us like we belong to you.”
“You do. And don’t forget it.”
“Not anymore, Lester. I care too much for Miss Sylvia.”
“Every time we have this talk, you get hurt. How stupid are you?”
Lester had beaten Rosie!
“What kind of a man beats a woman who refuses him—a man who has a wife and other women?”
The sharp crack of a hand striking flesh startled Travis. He headed toward them. Bile rose up from his stomach. Lester had beaten Rosie, not once but twice. “Don’t you touch her.”
Lester laughed. “Well, if it isn’t the preacher coming to pay a call at Heaven’s Gate.”
