Faithful Heart

by Al Lacy

  “But if Jesus wants Daddy to go to Dr. Carroll, won’t He give us the money? Pastor Yates preaches all the time that God will supply all of our needs.”

  Dottie glanced at Jerrod, then said, “Well, Molly Kate, maybe Jesus wants to make Daddy well all by Himself.”

  Molly Kate tilted her head, squinted at her mother and asked, “Then how come He hasn’t done it?”

  Dottie looked again at her husband, who gave her an I-don’t-know-how-to-explain-it-to-her look and shrugged.

  “Jesus likes doctors,” Molly Kate said matter-of-factly. “He sent Dr. Luke to travel with Paul because Paul didn’t feel good. Since Jesus likes doctors, shouldn’t Daddy go to Dr. Carroll like that sheriff man said, so he can get well?”

  A probing thought passed through Dottie’s mind. Was the Lord using the mouth of a child to tell them they should put Jerrod under Dr. Carroll’s care? Jerrod would never submit to it, especially if it meant being admitted to City Mental Asylum.

  “We’ll just have to pray harder so we’ll know, won’t we?” Dottie said, patting Molly Kate on the head.

  “I guess so,” the little girl said.

  Jerrod moved toward the table and said, “James is going to have to hurry if he’s going to eat with us.”

  “He didn’t feel good at bedtime last night,” Dottie said.

  “Well, what about church?” Jerrod asked.

  “You’ll have to go by yourself today. James is definitely not up to it, so I’ll keep him home. Molly Kate can stay here with us.”

  “You sure he’s that sick?”

  “Not really sick, but pale and weak. The walk to and from the Reeves place yesterday was pretty hard on him. The stitches in his lip are giving him some discomfort, too. He’ll get them out Tuesday, and I’m sure he’ll be feeling better in a couple more days. We can all go to church together next Sunday.”

  “All right, but there’s no sense in Molly Kate missin’ church. She can go with me.”

  For the first time, Dottie realized she was afraid to let Jerrod be alone with her daughter. She tried to keep her voice from betraying her fear. “Jerrod, she’s been through a lot lately. It’s probably best that she stay here with James and me.”

  “Haven’t we always gone to church unless we were sick?”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “Well, Molly Kate’s not sick. I want her to go to church with me.”

  Dottie cleared her throat softly and spoke carefully. “Jerrod, she’s been through so much lately. She’s apprehensive about you. Can you blame her?”

  Tears filmed Jerrod’s eyes. He knelt beside his daughter and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Honey,” he said, a quaver in his husky voice, “Daddy loves you with all his heart. I wouldn’t hurt you, no matter what. I’d like for you to go with me to church. Would you really be afraid to go?”

  The child bit her lower lip and studied her father’s tear-filled eyes. She loved her father as much as any six-year-old could, and his tears touched her tender heart. She looked at her mother questioningly but got no answer. The decision would be hers.

  Molly Kate rubbed her hands on her robe, licked her lips, and said, “I wouldn’t be afraid to go to church with you, Daddy.”

  Jerrod wiped the tears from his face with his hand and folded his daughter in his arms. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said, choking on the words.

  An hour later, Dottie stood on the front porch of the farmhouse and waved as Jerrod and Molly Kate drove away in the family wagon. They waved back, and soon turned at the end of the peach orchard and passed from view. Dottie hurried into the house and fell on her knees beside the couch in the parlor. She prayed earnestly for Molly Kate’s safety, asking the Lord to bring her home without harm. She also prayed, as she had hundreds of times in the past five months, for Jerrod to be made well.

  James came down from his room and stood at the parlor door. He waited quietly for his mother to finish, then entered the room. Dottie smiled at him and stood up.

  “Well, there’s my little man. I thought you were going to sleep the whole morning away.”

  “I wasn’t asleep,” he said. “I started down the stairs when Daddy was trying to get Molly Kate to go to church with him. I thought it would be best if I stayed in my room, so I went back up.”

  Dottie ran loving fingers through his dark-red hair. “Hungry?

  “A little.”

  “Well, let’s see if ol’ Mom here can rustle her boy up some grub.”

  After breakfast, Dottie and James read the Bible and prayed together, then James went up to dress while Dottie cleaned up the kitchen. Dottie could tell he still wasn’t feeling well. When he came back down, she asked if he would like to go into the parlor, sit on the couch with her, and look at the family picture album. They hadn’t looked at the album together since James was Molly Kate’s age.

  James was delighted to have the time alone with his mother. As they sat side by side looking at the album, James asked many questions about his maternal grandparents.

  There were pictures of James when he was a baby, and also of Molly Kate when she was tiny. Soon they turned a page and James saw a picture of his mother and her sister when they were in their late teens. It had been taken shortly before Dottie made the trip to San Francisco to be Jerrod Harper’s mail-order bride. James had almost forgotten the picture.

  “Mommy, you and Aunt Breanna sure do look a lot alike,” he exclaimed. “You could be mistaken for twins!”

  Dottie smiled. “You’re right. Many people used to ask if we were twins, especially about the time your Aunt Breanna was eighteen and I was sixteen.”

  “She never has gotten married, has she?”

  “No. At least she wasn’t as of the last letter I got from her a few months ago. She was engaged once, but it never worked out.”

  “How come?”

  “Well … the man she was to marry broke off the engagement only days before the wedding and married someone else. I think your Aunt Breanna’s heart was broken so bad, she’s never gotten over it.”

  “That was a mean thing to do.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Do you think she’ll ever get married?”

  “Oh, I have a feeling that day will come. She mentioned a man named John in the last couple of letters, but didn’t tell me much about him. From the way it sounded, he was away somewhere, and they hadn’t gotten to be together a whole lot.”

  James studied the picture carefully and said, “You and Aunt Breanna were real close, weren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she smiled. “As close as sisters could be. She’s a wonderful person, James. So sweet and kind. Full of compassion and love. She makes a wonderful nurse. Breanna has always loved to do for others.”

  “Like you, huh, Mommy?”

  Dottie pulled him close. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  “I sure hope I get to meet Aunt Breanna some day.”

  “Well, the Lord willing, that day will come. You’ll love her, I assure you.”

  Talking about her sister stirred Dottie’s heart toward Breanna and made her miss her terribly. She decided to have James lie down and rest while she reread some of Breanna’s letters.

  The morning sun was pleasantly warm as Jerrod and Molly Kate made their way toward San Bruno. Dust clouds roiled up behind the wagon. Birds sang in the trees as if they were holding services of their own to give glory to their Creator.

  Jerrod looked down at the small girl who sat beside him and marveled at how much she resembled her mother. Speaking softly, he said, “Honey, it would be best if you didn’t tell anyone at church about what … about what Daddy did to James and to Mommy. Understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “If somebody asks you why they’re not at church, you just tell them it’s because James isn’t feeling well. Okay?”

  Innocent blue eyes looked up at him. “Okay.”

  “You won’t be lying, Molly Kate, because James really isn’t feeling well.”

 
“I know, Daddy.”

  The bell in the steeple was ringing as father and daughter pulled into the churchyard. People were leaving their vehicles and hurrying into the white frame building. When Jerrod stepped to the ground and lifted Molly Kate off the wagon seat, he reminded her of what to say should anyone ask about the rest of the family.

  Jerrod and Molly Kate sat in the same pew with Will and Maudie Reeves. Jerrod asked Will how he was doing, and the old man said he was quite sore through the chest and in his back, but he was sure no bones had been broken. Jerrod brought up his promise to help Will put the new axle on the wagon, and said he would be over the next day. Will thanked him once more for coming to his rescue. Maudie asked how James was feeling, and Jerrod said that he was better but not up to coming to church. The service began just then, and no more was said.

  The music was inspiring and the preaching eloquent. After the service, the congregation filed out the door, shaking hands with the preacher and his wife. Reverend and Mrs. Howard Yates greeted Will and Molly Kate, who had a grip on Grandpa Will’s hand, then shook hands with Maudie. When Jerrod stepped up, Louella Yates extended her hand and said, “I missed Dottie and James this morning, Jerrod.”

  “Me, too,” the preacher said.

  “James isn’t feeling well,” Jerrod told them.

  “Anything serious?” Louella asked.

  “No. He’ll be all right in a day or two.”

  “Well, you tell them we missed them.”

  “I’ll do that,” Jerrod nodded.

  Will and Maudie spoke a few parting words to Jerrod and Molly Kate, then joined friends who had brought them to church and would deliver them home, since the Reeves’s wagon was under repair.

  Jerrod took Molly Kate by the hand and headed for the wagon. They passed two middle-aged couples who were in friendly conversation. Jerrod knew Duane and Betty Ferguson and Webster and Darlene Michaels very well. Web Michaels first caught sight of father and daughter and lifted a hand in greeting. “Hello, Jerrod. Hello, Molly Kate.”

  Jerrod and Molly Kate slowed, and Jerrod replied, “Hello, Web.”

  “Where are Dottie and James?” Betty asked.

  “They’re home. James isn’t feeling well.”

  The two women converged on Molly Kate, complimenting her on her beautiful dress and saying she looked more like her mother every day. The two men said they had heard how Jerrod saved Will Reeves’s life. Duane asked Jerrod what was wrong with James at the same time Darlene asked Molly Kate the same question.

  “He … ah … he came down with a fever during the night,” Jerrod said.

  “He’s got a cut lip and some bad bruises on his face,” Molly Kate said.

  Duane and Web heard Jerrod’s words, but also overheard what Molly Kate told their wives.

  “Molly Kate, how did James get cut and bruised?” Betty asked.

  “He fell down, ma’am.” she replied, reasoning that when her father beat James, her brother had fallen down.

  Both replies hung in the air. Somebody was lying.

  Molly Kate had heard her father’s lie. Her eyes were drawn to his like a magnet. She saw a flicker of anger there and her heart leaped in her breast.

  Jerrod’s face flushed as he chuckled, grinned nervously, and stammered, “Well, James did have a fall. Possibly his minor injuries brought on the fever.”

  Jerrod’s explanation fooled no one.

  “Well, you tell that little guy we hope he’ll be healed up real soon,” Web Michaels said.

  “That’s right,” Duane nodded.

  “And tell Dottie we missed her,” Darlene said.

  “I will,” Jerrod responded weakly, taking Molly Kate by the hand.

  He hurried his daughter to the wagon, hoisted her into the seat, and quickly headed out of the churchyard. If he had looked back, he would have seen the foursome staring after him, puzzlement etched on their faces.

  Molly Kate ventured a glance at her father’s hard features. His mouth was set in a straight, rigid line. He turned and gave her a look that mixed anger with disgust.

  Jerrod snapped the reins and screamed at the horses to go faster. People on the streets of San Bruno looked on in amazement as the wagon barreled past them, throwing up dust.

  It took only moments to reach the edge of town. As the wagon raced westward into the country, Jerrod fixed blazing eyes on his daughter. Rage raked his voice as he yelled, “Molly Kate, you were bad back there. Real bad! You shouldn’t have told those women about your brother’s bruises and cut lip. If you’d kept your mouth shut, they wouldn’t know about them. Now, you’ve got to be punished!”

  Molly Kate’s face turned the color of gray stone. She blinked, unable to tear her gaze from her father’s fiery, penetrating gaze.

  Jerrod saw the wild-eyed dread staring back at him from his daughter. She was terrified to the bone, and he was glad. She had it coming.

  “Why did you do that?” he demanded. “Why?”

  The child’s lips quivered, but she managed to say, “Daddy, you and Mommy always taught me to tell the truth. I answered Mrs. Ferguson and Mrs. Michaels the best I could without lying.”

  Molly Kate’s last sentence cut through Jerrod. It was he who had lied to the Fergusons and the Michaelses—and his daughter had heard him. He fought against the urge to punish Molly Kate. She did not deserve to be punished! She had told the truth, yet had worded it so as to obey the instructions he had given her before they arrived at the church.

  The speeding wagon was approaching a wooded area. The war between the Jerrods was on. He aimed the wagon into the wooded area, and when it was out of sight from the road, he yanked back on the reins, drawing the vehicle to a skidding stop.

  Sweat beaded his face as he turned to the frightened girl and said, “Molly Kate, you stay in the wagon!”

  He jumped down and ran into the woods, wanting to get as far from his daughter as he could before he lost control.

  Molly Kate sat frozen on the seat, her entire body clammy with cold sweat. She wanted to take the reins and gallop the team for home, but she was afraid to try it. When her father finally caught her, he might beat her to death. She took a deep breath, let it out with a shudder, and remained fixed on the wagon seat.

  Jerrod Harper threaded his way among the trees, running like a rabbit from a hound, scared and out of breath. He opened his mouth to release a high-pitched wail, filling the woods with an eerie sound.

  A stab of pain lanced through his head. He stopped, breathing hard, and leaned against a huge oak tree. Battle sounds were prickling the outer edges of his mind. He was going back … back to Wilson’s Creek.

  Muskets barked and cannons boomed. There was smoke everywhere. His men were shouting that Rebels were coming through the woods. He heard a spine-tingling Rebel yell and turned to see a dozen or more men in gray closing in fast with bayonets fixed.

  Sergeant Jerrod Harper wheeled and fired his musket from waist level. The long-barreled gun roared and a Confederate soldier took the bullet square in the chest. Jerrod gripped his musket by the barrel and took out the next Rebel by using it as a club. Behind the charging Rebel came another, screaming, wild-eyed, and lunging at him with a bayonet. He sidestepped the bayonet thrust in the nick of time, wheeled, and struck the Rebel in the head with the butt of his rifle.

  All around him, amid thunderous cannon fire and roaring muskets, men were wailing, screaming, dying. Another fierce stab of pain drilled into his head. Dizziness claimed him. A cannon shell exploded within a few feet of him. He felt the shrapnel ripping into his body. A shower of stars swirled through his mind, leaving a trail of fading light.

  Then blackness claimed him.

  8

  IN THE PAST FIVE MONTHS, Jerrod Harper’s hallucinatory spells had taken him back to the battle at Wilson’s Creek more than a dozen times. Only once before had he blacked out. He had been alone at the time, and had never told Dottie about it.

  His first indication of awareness was the sound of a
small voice crying, “Please wake up, Daddy! Please, Daddy, wake up!”

  His eyes fluttered for a moment, then he focused on the tear-stained face of his little girl, who was kneeling beside him. Molly Kate’s pinched features relaxed some when she saw his eyes come open. “Oh, Daddy!” she gasped. “Are you all right?”

  The love Jerrod had for his sweet daughter flooded his heart. He lifted a shaky hand and stroked the full length of the blond tresses that fell halfway down her back.

  “I’m okay, darlin’,” he said in a half-whisper.

  “I’m sorry I left the wagon when you told me not to, Daddy,” she said, “but I got worried when you didn’t come back.”

  “It’s all right, honey. I understand.” He used both hands to raise himself to a sitting position.

  Molly Kate felt a wave of relief wash over her. The look in his eyes and the tone of his voice told her the bad Daddy was gone.

  Jerrod’s hat had fallen next to him. He picked it up, placed it on his head, and rose to his feet. “C’mon, honey,” he said softly, “let’s get to the wagon. Your Mommy’ll be worried about us.”

  As they walked hand-in-hand through the dappled shade of the woods, Jerrod glanced up at the sun. By its position, he knew he had been out for at least an hour.

  When they reached the wagon, Jerrod bent over and picked Molly Kate up to place her on the seat. Before he did, he held her close, wrapping her snugly in his arms. “I love you, Molly Kate. The bad man inside me tried to make me hurt you, but my love for you was too strong. He couldn’t do it.”

  Molly Kate was apprehensive, but yearned for her father’s affection. She cuddled her head close to his neck and said, “Then you aren’t mad at me for what I told Mrs. Ferguson and Mrs. Michaels?”

  Jerrod closed his eyes and bit down on his lower lip. “No, darlin’. I’m sorry for the way I talked to you. It … it wasn’t me, really. It was the bad man inside me.”

  Molly Kate hugged him tight. “I don’t like him, Daddy. He scares me.”

  “I know, honey. I know. He scares me, too.”