by DiAnn Mills
“You’ll be fine,” she said. “Many of us are praying for you.”
“I appreciate your soothing words. Just what I needed to hear. Some days I think I have more in common with the apostle Peter than Jesus.”
“But look what Jesus did through Peter. He learned to love himself because Jesus used him in a mighty way.”
Travis chuckled. “I see your point.”
“I don’t need to know what went on with you and Sylvia, but I do think she needs to open her eyes to what is happening in this town.”
*****
Bonnie had a few minutes to spare before picking up Michael Paul from school, so she decided to stop at the parsonage. The reverend was upstairs taking a nap when she and her mother sat down to chat.
“I understand you’ve been helping Brother Travis with his sermons.” Mama’s eyes held a special gleam in them. “He told me about it this morning while we enjoyed a cup of coffee and a couple of the reverend’s biscuits.”
“I’m only practicing what I learn from the book he gave me at Christmas.”
“Hmm. Seems like an excuse for him to spend time with my daughter.”
Bonnie wrinkled her nose and laughed. No point in hiding the obvious, even if Travis had never said a word about the two of them. “Hush, someone will hear you, and then the good folks of our town will have more to talk about.”
“How are the plans going for Juanita and Thomas’s wedding?”
“Oh, very good. I’ve made a list of guests, although Juanita and Thomas want only a few people there. We’re nearly done with her dress, a very pretty blue.”
A knock at the front door stopped any further discussion about the upcoming wedding.
“Goodness, what a busy place this is today,” Mama said. “I hope whoever’s here doesn’t want the reverend. He gets cranky without his full nap.”
“Do you want me to chase them away?” Bonnie said.
Her mother shook her finger. “Never mind. I’ll handle it.”
Bonnie stayed in the kitchen, knowing that the reverend received most callers when serious illnesses and death occurred. The hum of voices grew louder until she chose to find out what was going on.
“Lester, this time you’ve gone too far. Does Sylvia know what you’re doing?”
Bonnie held her breath. What was Lester up to now?
“I haven’t shared this with her yet.”
“Why do you persist in spreading rumors and causing trouble?”
“I expected you to stand up for Brother Travis since he’s carrying on with your daughter.”
Bonnie had heard enough and hurried to the door. “What is going on?”
“Lester is letting us know that he plans to approach the deacons about church discipline for Brother Travis. He feels he is not a fit preacher for Piney Woods. The rumors about you two are disturbing too many of the church members.” Mama’s face flushed red.
“What about church discipline for you?” Bonnie stepped between Mama and Lester. Disgust oozed from the pores of her skin.
“Are you going to hit me again, like the last time I pointed out a truth?” Lester shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and leaned on the side of the door. “Watch out, Mrs. Kahler, you might be the next one to face the good people of Piney Woods Church. After all, you are the one involved with Brother Travis.”
Bonnie dug her fingers into her palms to keep from wiping the smirk off Lester’s face.
“I think you’d better leave,” the reverend said.
Bonnie whirled around to see her stepfather standing on the stairway.
“I’m only informing you of what I’m doing. Seems rather obvious to me that the church is vandalized and a young woman is killed soon after Brother Travis comes to town. I heard from one member that Brother Travis might be covering up Rosie’s murder, and some folks think Zack’s a part of it too. If I were him, I’d resign before facing church discipline.”
“You’re not Brother Travis,” the reverend said. “Take your lies elsewhere.”
“I want the address of his former church. The deacons will want to know everything about him.”
“I have the correspondence if they want to read it. But all you’re getting from me is a request to leave my home. And if I ever hear of you accusing my grandson of murder again, I’ll write the next newspaper article.”
Lester nodded and left. Silence clung to the hallway like cobwebs longing to be swept away. Bonnie was too angry to speak.
“He’ll never get folks to remove Brother Travis,” the reverend said. “He’s the man God brought to us and the man God will protect. I’ll go tell him now.”
Chapter 32
Travis sat on the back porch and watched the cloak of night embrace the trees before him. The bare branches reminded him of the long arms of God reaching out to the world. Judgment had come to Travis Whitworth—the preacher. Soon everyone would learn how he’d failed his flock before coming to Kahlerville. Only time stood between Tennessee and Texas. He’d been a fool to think his sins rested in the past like a grave full of live bodies.
God’s forgiven me. That’s the only thing that matters. But the consequences were still to be reckoned with.
What hurt the most was Lester’s accusation that he or Zack might have had something to do with Rosie’s murder. Eli Palmer’s words about Zack echoed in his mind. He’ll be murderin’ us in our sleep. Mark my words.
How many others had Eli made that claim to? Could he and Lester be working together?
Prayer was supposed to change things. God heard every plea, and if a man prayed in faith and confidence, then He answered. Travis clung to the promises of God. He preached them at every opportunity. But the situation in Kahlerville had gotten worse. The more he prayed, the more folks were hurt—or killed. The problem must lie with Travis.
Why had he believed God had forgiven him and wanted him to continue in the ministry? Had he mistaken the Lord’s voice for his own desires? Travis wished he knew. In times like these, he wanted to think the good he’d done in Kahlerville made up for the wrong in Tennessee. Yet he understood that God didn’t look at deeds to cover up wrongdoing. He looked at a man’s heart. Travis had been broken over his sin in Tennessee, and his relationship with God had been restored by true repentance. But now he doubted every move, every prayer, every piece of scripture that he felt God had given to him.
“Brother Travis, don’t feel so bad about what Lester is doing. You told me the story about your old church, and you’re too hard on yourself. You tried to help a woman like those living at Heaven’s Gate.”
“Thank you, Zack. I have to tell the deacons what happened a week from Sunday. They’ve called a meeting with me after the evenin’ worship. It will be up to them to decide whether I continue as their preacher.” He hadn’t the gumption to tell Zack about Lester accusing them of Rosie’s murder.
“But Uncle Morgan and Uncle Grant are deacons.”
“So are Eli and a few others who aren’t happy with me right now.”
“That’s because they believe lies and not the truth.”
Travis smiled. “Sit with me here a spell. There are a few things I’d like to say to you before I meet with the deacons, and tomorrow I might change my mind.”
Zack seated himself beside Travis. All the while, night settled in.
“The time’s come for you to return to your mama. She needs you, and I’m being selfish by wanting you here with me. I couldn’t be any more proud of you—or love you more if you were my own son. If the good Lord ever blesses me with a family, I hope I have a son as fine as you.” He paused a moment to stop a tear from rolling down his face and to collect his emotions. “Michael Paul and Lydia Anne need you, too. They are beautiful children, but without a father, they need someone to look up to. It’s a lot of responsibility f
or a young man nearly thirteen years old, yet I have no doubt of your abilities. Tell them you love them. Tell them when you make mistakes. Guide them, but let them learn about life on their own. It’s a balance. Encourage them to seek God’s face in good times and bad. Memorizing scripture should be a part of their life, like breathing. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best. I don’t believe the deacons will make you leave Piney Woods. I believe God has other plans.”
“You’re sounding more like a preacher every day.”
“I think God might be calling me there.”
Travis placed an arm around Zack’s shoulders. “Keep listening. When the call on your life consumes you first thing in the mornin’ and the last thing at night, then you’ll know it is God’s will.”
“What about Mama?”
“What do you mean?”
“I see you care for her, and I’m not jokin’ about it. She cares for you, too. Seems like God would want you to do something about it.”
Travis swallowed hard. “If the good Lord wants your mother and me to be together, He’ll have to work out the problems to make it happen.”
“All right. When . . . when do you want me to move back home? I understand what you’re saying, but I’ll miss you.”
Zack nearly swallowed his words, and for a moment, Travis thought both of them would weep. Then they did.
Travis finally squeezed Zack’s shoulders. “We can still see each other. I’ll miss lots of things between us, too. I talked to Miss Scott, and she says you’re welcome back in school.”
“I don’t think anyone could ever teach Latin or the Bible like you.”
“I reckon those classes could continue.” Travis took a deep breath. “I’m thinking this Sunday afternoon would be a good time for you to move home. We’d have three more days together.”
That night, Travis lay awake. He’d done the right thing with Zack, even though it had been hard. If the deacons kept him at Piney Woods, he could visit Bonnie and the children. Of course, the deacons could very well insist he stay away from them. The only thing he knew for certain was that God rode the waves of uncertainty with him.
His mind trailed back to the many happenings in Kahlerville since he’d first arrived. God had placed some wonderful people in his path, and their friendship had tempered the misfortune.
His thoughts rested on Rosie’s death. Who had killed the young woman who carried a child? The murder had snatched away two lives. How tragic. How futile.
Could Lester have been so ruthless as to destroy her? She hadn’t been beaten. There was only the single thrust of a knife to her heart. Whoever had committed the killing either planned her demise or had done so in a moment of anger. What puzzled him was that Lester had used his fists in the past to persuade Rosie. Not a mark had been found on her.
Did this mean he was innocent of her murder? But who? The father of her child? One of the men Lester brought to Rosie’s door? Travis pieced together what he remembered about the morning he and Zack had found her body.
The path had been trodden by Rosie and another man. He had led her to the clearing and stabbed her with a large knife. The sheriff said the blade was larger than one typically used for hunting. What else had the sheriff found? Travis concentrated on the findings. Nothing came to mind.
Suddenly Travis sat upright in bed. The knife. Could it have been a kitchen knife? A thought sickened him. Where could that hideous thought have come from? Still it persisted until he could not let it go.
*****
Sleep had evaded Bonnie ever since she learned that Lester had succeeded in having the deacons call a meeting about church discipline of Brother Travis. If the rumors were found true, then Brother Travis was unfit as a preacher and possibly linked to Rosie’s murder—along with her son. At the very least, Travis could be asked to leave Piney Woods—or worse yet, face the sheriff for questioning about Rosie. And what of Zack? Lester was getting his way.
Dear God, protect Travis and Zack. Bring the truth to light. You know Travis’s heart, and you know he and I are innocent of the gossip. And you know my Zack would never hurt anyone. Please, I beg of You, help us all through this trial. And guide me in my feelings toward Travis.
The days ahead would pass slowly until the deacons met. She could only imagine the heaviness weighing on Travis and dear Zack. He’d come so far in his faith. She prayed for her son to remain strong and not to allow the sins of man to dissuade his faith.
Bitterness rose in Bonnie until she flung back the quilt covering her and walked to the window. For a moment she thought she’d be physically ill. Lester. How could one man cause so much trouble for so many people? God instructed His children to love their enemies. He’d help rid her heart of hate, or she’d be no better than Lester.
Right now she needed all the help she could get.
A sky full of stars grasped Bonnie’s attention. Her father used to sit her on his knee and tell her that, just as God had taken time to mount the stars in the heavens, he’d surely listen to her every prayer.
*****
Travis realized he needed to do something about his suspicions. The thoughts refused to let him go no matter how hard he tried. At first he blamed Satan for trying to persuade him to think evil about an innocent person, but after much prayer, he believed God was urging him to find the answers. Travis intended to follow his hunch, but he needed someone to go with him. Morgan Andrews was that man.
As Travis lifted his fist to knock on Morgan’s office door, he didn’t know whether to pray he was right or wrong. Neither alternative settled well. The situation reminded him of the time when he spoke to Zack about choosing between two wrongs. Taking a deep breath, he rapped on the office door of Kahlerville’s lawyer and waited for him to respond.
“Door’s open.”
Travis knocked the dirt from his feet and prayed for truth. In the moments that followed, he revealed some of his speculations.
“You want me to help you prove what?”
“Not prove, simply look into the matter,” Travis said. “It’s far-fetched, I know.”
Morgan studied him curiously. “You’re thinking a kitchen knife was used to kill Rosie, possibly one from Heaven’s Gate?”
“The sheriff never found the murder weapon, and he said it was larger than a hunting knife.”
“All right. Let’s stop at the boardinghouse and pick up a loaf of bread first. I hope you’re wrong, Brother Travis.”
“So do I.”
With the loaf of bread under Travis’s arm, he and Morgan set their sights on Heaven’s Gate. Neither man spoke. No doubt Morgan’s mind whirled as fast as Travis’s.
“Sylvia may be the only one there,” Travis said.
Morgan didn’t respond. With what Travis had suggested, what could he say? Once on the porch of Heaven’s Gate, the two men went into action. Sylvia opened the door and greeted them.
“Are Miss Laura and Miss Daisy in?” Morgan said.
She cast a wary glance at Travis. His last conversation with her had not been forgotten. “No. Can I help you with something?”
Travis handed her the brown wrapped package. “We were at the boardinghouse, and the bread smelled so good that Morgan snatched up a loaf. We wanted to see the young ladies but didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
“That’s very considerate of you. I’ll make sure they thank you properly.”
“Do you mind if we come in?” Morgan said. “We’d like to talk to you for a moment.”
“Lester would not approve.”
“That’s my fault, and I apologize,” Travis said.
“We only want to talk about the young ladies and ask a few questions,” Morgan said. “I think we may have a possible suspect in Rosie’s death.”
“Oh, my. In that case, come on in
. I surely want the horrible situation resolved.” She ushered them to the parlor.
Someone walked across the upstairs floor. Travis assumed Daisy was recovering, but he chose not to mention whomever was on the second floor.
“May I offer you gentlemen some coffee?”
Morgan glanced at Travis. “I don’t ever refuse a cup of Sylvia’s coffee.”
“I hear she makes the best.”
“Yes, thank you, ma’am. Know what? I’d like a slice of that bread. Made my stomach growl when I smelled it, and the feeling hasn’t left me.” Morgan chuckled.
“Certainly.” She smiled and disappeared. The sound of clinking cups and saucers came from the kitchen, and soon she returned carrying a tray with the coffee, cream, and sugar. “I’m so sorry, but
I can’t find a knife to slice the bread.”
Travis inwardly cringed.
“One of the girls must have misplaced it,” she continued.
“My goodness, just when a man has a hankering for warm bread.”
“And I have freshly churned butter, too.”
Morgan pulled a pocketknife from his trouser pocket. “Would this help? I cleaned fish with it the other night.”
“I don’t think so. The knife we always use has a wide blade and slices through bread quite nicely without chewing it up.”
“Must be a fine knife. Did you purchase it for the kitchen here?” Morgan said.
Travis’s heart hammered too hard to think of any fancy, lawyer like questions.
“I did. A fine one, too.”
“Maybe next time then.” Morgan picked up his coffee.
“I remember you Andrewses drink your coffee black,” she said, “and you, too, Brother Travis.”
“I always thought the stuff folks put in coffee ruined the taste,” Travis said. “You have a good memory.”
“Thank you. Now what did you want to ask me about Laura and Daisy?”
Travis glanced at Morgan for him to begin.
“Do you know where they were the day Rosie disappeared?”
