by Diann Hunt
Just when he felt things were turning around in his heart, the freedom that had lifted him from bitterness seemed to drain from his soul like life ebbing from a dying man.
Once again he felt trapped, but this time by the bitterness of another.
Sunday morning Titus once again sat on the church bench with the O’Connor family. Sandwiched between Abigail and Eliza, he felt a bit awkward. Eliza had been following him around like a hovering shadow. He didn’t like it at all.
The pastor spoke of Solomon and how he had served the Lord faithfully then ultimately allowed other gods to infiltrate his heart. Titus wondered how someone could be that strong in their walk then so blatantly turn from the truth. Then he thought of his own life. Isn’t that exactly what he had done? He had once believed. But that was before his father’s business was destroyed and the family funds had dwindled, taking Titus’s dreams with them.
Even so, he wasn’t sure he was ready to change that. A root of bitterness lingered, but God was dealing with him. Of that, he was sure.
By the sermon’s end, Titus felt at war with himself. He wanted to get things straightened out with God. The O’Connors seemed to have proven themselves genuine, but he couldn’t shake the notion that someone needed to pay for his suffering.
Someone did pay. Jesus.
He pushed the thought aside, not wanting to think about it. Despite his efforts to ignore the matter, though, he could feel his mood diving south. He needed to get home. Think things through.
After the final prayer, the people shuffled across the wooden floor toward the exit. As people crowded in around them, he reached over and touched Abigail’s elbow. Seeming to sense it was he, she turned up and smiled. They had just stepped into the sunshine when a voice called from the side. “Abigail!”
Titus and Abigail both turned their heads to see a tall man with spectacles and a wide smile coming their way, hand extended.
“Jonathan,” Abigail said with a smile. Though she hesitated just a moment, she offered her hand in greeting. She turned to Titus and introduced him to Jonathan. Did her face light up with the presence of her old friend, or was Titus imagining it? He felt like a jealous schoolboy. He glanced at Eliza. She tossed him a smirk. Perhaps she could see it, too.
Abigail’s preoccupation with her visitor coupled with his own jealousy made Titus sick of heart. Deciding to go home, Titus slipped from the gathering and headed for his wagon.
“Titus,” Eliza called out.
He turned to her.
She stepped up to him and raised her hand to his arm. “Just remember what I told you. I’m here for you if you change your mind.”
Titus glared at her then turned back to his wagon. Her laughter taunted him the entire ride home.
Chapter 13
Abigail took a moment to collect herself from all the excitement Jonathan’s visit brought. She and her family stood talking with him in front of the church. Buggies were pulling out and most likely heading home.
While her father talked to Jonathan of business things, Abigail glanced around. She saw Eliza standing with Titus, her hand on his arm. He didn’t pull away. Eliza still pursued him; that much was obvious. How did he feel about her? Was she winning him over? Did the kiss Abigail and Titus had shared mean anything to him? She glanced at Jonathan then back to Titus. Her heart felt a tangle of confusion.
Titus turned and climbed into his wagon without saying good-bye to any of them. Eliza walked over and stood under an apple tree in the distance. She pulled open a book.
Abigail sighed, wondering where her heart would take her, what her future would hold. From a low branch of a nearby tree, a sparrow fluffed his feathers and seemed to snuggle into them. Abigail was reminded of God’s love even for the sparrow. If He could take care of the sparrow, He could take care of her. Just then a brown squirrel with a plume of a tail scurried up the tree, startling the sparrow and causing him to fly away, taking Abigail’s gaze upward. A spattering of heavy clouds hung low in the wintry sky with occasional patches of soft blue blinking in and out between them.
Abigail thought the day would bring snow. Jonathan loved to ice-skate. Perhaps they could go ice-skating while he was in town. She wondered what had caused Jonathan to return to Chicago and how long he would stay.
“Jonathan, you must join us for lunch,” Mother was saying.
Jonathan glanced at Abigail. She smiled at him.
His face broke into the familiar grin that had flipped her heart so many times before. She couldn’t deny it felt good to see Jonathan again. Yet things were different somehow. This time, her heart didn’t flip. Perhaps she had built a wall to protect herself from further hurt. Not that it mattered; he probably popped in to see her like any good friend would while in town for a visit.
She felt tired and confused. Titus had been acting strange lately, and now with Jonathan showing up, Abigail didn’t know what to think about anything.
By the time they got home and ate lunch, midafternoon was upon them. Father glanced out the window then turned to Abigail and Jonathan. “I know it’s cold out there, but with the snowflakes falling, it looks like a good afternoon for a sleigh ride. You’re welcome to use our sleigh, Jonathan.” A wide grin stretched across his face.
Jonathan turned and smiled at Abigail, his eyes lit with adventure. “What do you say?”
Abigail giggled. “I think it would be fun.” Then almost as an afterthought, she looked at Eliza. “Would you like to come along?”
“No, thank you, I’d prefer the company of my needlepoint,” she said with a tone that made no apologies for her comment.
Abigail ignored the comment and turned to Jonathan. “I’ll grab my things from upstairs. I’ll only be a minute.”
He nodded.
Before long, they were settled comfortably in the sleigh, the horses hitched and ready to go. She snuggled into the warm skins and breathed deeply of winter’s scent. He looked over at her and smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
His comment surprised her. “I’ve missed you, too,” she said. And she meant it.
The horses’ clip-clop echoed through the afternoon air. Jonathan told her of his new job and new life. Finally, when they had traveled just outside of town, he pulled over near a rotted-out tree. The horses stood pawing the ground, puffs of warm air blowing from their nostrils.
“I’ve been wrong,” Jonathan said, clutching Abigail’s hands. “I thought I could go on with my life, that this job was the best thing, and we both should start over, but I was wrong. The vision of you follows me every moment of every day and haunts my dreams at night.”
Abigail stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“I love you, Abigail O’Connor.” He touched the edge of her hat, pushing it slightly from her face, and he leaned in, his mouth brushing against hers in the familiar way of the past. She kissed him back, surrendering to his touch, relaxing in his arms, until she realized the man she kissed was not Jonathan.
It was Titus.
She pulled away. Her mind and heart became a flurry of confusion and contradictions. First Jonathan loved her, and then he didn’t. Then Titus cared; now he hovered in secret corners with Eliza. Why did they toy with her heart? She wanted to get away from both of them. Her heart weighed heavy with distrust of everyone. She was tired of being tossed about. Didn’t anyone care how she felt? Oh, now she was acting like Eliza. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“I want to go home, Jonathan.”
Surprise touched to his face. “Look, Abigail, I’m here for two weeks, and that’s it. I have a lot to say to you—”
Abigail turned to him. “I need some time, Jonathan. I don’t know what to think about anything right now.”
“Does this have anything to do with your chauffeur?”
Abigail wasn’t sure how to answer that, because she didn’t know the answer. She shook her head. “It has to do with me. I don’t want to get hurt anymore.” Her words choked to a mere whis
per.
He grabbed her by the shoulders until she looked at him again. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve got to believe me. I thought I was doing the right thing by both of us when I left. Now I see I was wrong.” When she looked at him, he winced. “But by the look in your eyes, I’m afraid I’m too late.”
Jonathan turned around and tugged the horses back into a steady trot. “Give me the week. That’s all I ask.”
Abigail nodded and leaned into her blankets, wondering what the week would hold.
“Titus, sit down and talk to me. What is troubling you, son?” Ma asked him as he paced the small room.
His fingers raked through his hair, and he sat in the kitchen chair at the battered wooden table. Ma placed some coffee in front of him. His gaze lingered in his cup. “I don’t know.”
Ma wisely kept silent and waited.
He looked up. “I think I’m in love with Abigail.”
“And that’s not a good thing?” she asked with motherly gentleness.
He looked away and fell silent a moment.
Ma seemed to catch on. “She has someone else in her life?” She took a drink of coffee.
His eyes darted back to Ma. “That’s just it. I don’t know.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “This man Jonathan Clark moved out east, though she had loved him. Now he’s back.”
Ma put down her cup. “Ah, I see.” She paused. “Titus, if she loves you, love will win out.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“If she doesn’t, then God has other plans.”
“God,” he spewed. “It’s always you and God.” He stood to his feet and began pacing again. “What about my plans and what I want?”
“Your plans, Titus Matthews, will get you into trouble. You must trust the Lord.”
“Trust. That’s another thing. Abigail would never love me if she knew—” He stopped himself short.
Ma’s eyes seared through him. “Titus, what have you done?”
He dropped back into the chair. “I haven’t actually done anything, but, well …” He looked at Ma. “Well, I wanted to get even with the O’Connors.”
“Oh Titus, no. Tell me you haven’t hurt this precious family.” Ma’s eyes pleaded with him.
“I haven’t done anything. It’s just that Eliza knows I happened upon a paper—”
“Happened upon? Don’t color the truth for me, Titus Matthews. Tell me exactly what happened.”
He explained the situation with the letter to Pa and how that letter changed his heart. Then about Eliza catching on and knowing he had been searching for something. “So you see, if Eliza puts her spin on things to Abigail, how will I get Abigail to believe that I wasn’t using her to get to the truth—or that though it may have started out that way, things changed for me?”
Ma took a drink of coffee and frowned. “Eliza O’Connor needs a good prayer session.”
Titus smiled in spite of himself. Those were about the meanest words he could imagine his ma ever saying.
“I see your dilemma, Titus. You’d better pray yourself and ask the Lord to help you through this mess you have made—after you ask Him to clean up your heart.”
Titus looked at her a moment. “You pray, Ma. I’m not sure I’m ready.”
Monday morning Abigail and Eliza settled into conversation with Gramma at her home once again. Though she added occasional laughter and a comment here and there, Abigail could tell Eliza was not truly concentrating. She kept looking around the room as if searching for something. Abigail couldn’t imagine what.
“Have you heard from your father yet, Eliza?”
Eliza shook her head. “Guess they’ve forgotten about me.” She said the words then stood to her feet and began to meander about the room. Abigail wondered if Eliza was afraid her emotions might show.
“Do you have any books, Gramma?”
Gramma nodded. “There be some in me bedroom. Feel free to look, Eliza. I believe I have a copy of Little Women, if ye have never read that one.”
Eliza’s expression showed surprise. “You’ve read that, Gramma? I didn’t picture you as one to read.”
“Ah, I love to read. Just can’t see as well as I used to. ’Tis a good book, that one.”
Eliza nodded. “I’d like to read it.”
Gramma smiled and nodded, pointing toward her room.
Eliza slipped out of the room and into Gramma’s room. Abigail and Gramma continued in conversation. Abigail explained her dilemma with Jonathan and Titus.
“I see. If ye thought ye could trust them both fully, Abigail darling, and they both truly loved ye, who would ye choose?”
Abigail bit her lip and twirled a ringlet between her fingers at the side of her face. “I–I don’t know for sure. I mean, a few months ago, I was convinced I was in love with Jonathan. Then a few weeks ago, my heart moved to Titus. Now? Well, I just don’t know.” She looked at Gramma in desperation. “What shall I do?”
“Pray, wee one,” Gramma said, reaching over with her old, bent hand and patting Abigail’s shoulder.
Abigail nodded. “Sometimes I wish the Lord’s answers would come more quickly.”
Gramma laughed. “His ways would not be our ways. ’Tis on a different time schedule, He is.”
Abigail had to laugh at the thought. She knew Gramma was right. People tried to shape God into their own understanding of Him. He was so much more. Though she still did not have any answers, Abigail felt better just talking about things. She also was certain God would guide her.
“I guess Eliza decided to read in your room,” Abigail whispered, leaning into Gramma.
“She tires of me company.” Gramma covered a chuckle. “Ye be coming back later this week and letting me know about ye gentlemen friends?” She winked.
Abigail took in a breath. “Gramma, please! You make me sound like a frivolous woman!” They both laughed. “Of course I will be back. I wouldn’t miss my visits with you,” Abigail said, giving Gramma’s hand a squeeze.
“How things be at Barnabas House?”
“Going well. The director is getting married on Saturday. I’m looking forward to going to the wedding. I told you about Mary O’Grady and her daughter, Katie?”
“She’d be the one whose husband left her and later was killed?”
Abigail nodded. “That’s who Christopher is marrying. They will make a lovely family. I’m so happy for them all.”
“See how God, He works through life’s difficulties? No doubt she had many dark hours after her husband left.”
“You’re right, Gramma.”
“God will get us through the questions of life, He will. We need only trust and wait.”
Abigail thought a moment and smiled. “How did you get so smart?”
Gramma laughed. “Ah! I’m old. I’ve seen many things, I have, and listened well.”
“Guess I’ll have to work on that listening part,” Abigail said with a chuckle before rising to her feet. “Well, I really need to go. I’d better get Eliza.” She walked to Gramma’s bedroom. Peering into the room, Abigail saw Eliza sitting on a rocking chair, looking through what appeared to be a journal of some type. “Ah, you’ve found something, I see.”
Abigail’s voice startled Eliza. She dropped the journal to the floor and quickly poked it back into a basket under the stand by the bed. She grabbed the copy of Little Women and looked up as if nothing had happened at all. “Yes, in fact I did. This looks like a great novel,” she said, standing and brushing off her dress. “I can hardly wait to get started on it.”
Watching her closely, Abigail wondered what Eliza had been reading. No doubt snooping into Gramma’s things. Abigail shrugged. Eliza was always up to something. As long as no one got hurt, Abigail supposed she shouldn’t worry about it.
Keeping Eliza occupied and her sharp tongue silent was the important thing. Then she couldn’t hurt anyone.
Chapter 14
Abigail peered out her bedroom window at the frosty air. The wind had swept the sky
clean, and it looked like beautiful weather for a wedding. She felt almost giddy as she dressed for Christopher and Mary’s big day. No doubt Katie was all giggles and curls this morning. The thought brought a smile to Abigail. The family had suffered much, and God had turned things around for them.
If only she could learn to trust in the hard times. She chided herself. After all, she hadn’t really experienced hard times like some people. If she was so shallow on the little things, how would she make it through the really difficult events that were sure to come? Life wasn’t always easy, but in her few years, she had seen God take care of a good many people who trusted in Him.
“Abiding joy,” Gramma called it. And Gramma had it. When her husband of fifty-eight years died, God brought her joy in the sorrow. Oh, she had grieved, but through her tears, she kept saying over and over, “I’ll see him again one day.”
Walking to the washbasin, Abigail splashed water on her face. As she patted her skin dry with a towel, she thought further. She served the Lord, but truth be known, she wasn’t wholeheartedly committed. She really didn’t know what held her back. Life, she supposed. She was busy with life. There wasn’t always time to ponder the Creator or read His Word. She didn’t actually rebel against Him, she just, well, ignored Him.
Her hands held the towel midair. Is that what she did? Ignored Him? She hadn’t thought about that until now. She certainly hadn’t meant to ignore Him. The truth of the matter was she put other things first. Gramma’s talk had made Abigail see some things in her own life. She wanted the deep-rooted faith of which Gramma talked, the kind that dug deep into the soil of God’s love and stood strong in the thrashing winds of life.
She plopped onto the bed. Roots stretch deep in search of water. There are twists and turns, but still they probe, ever onward, doing whatever it takes to survive. That’s it. Her heart needed living water. She needed to dig deep into God’s Word, always stretching, bending, yielding to His plan to drink from the living water. As she walked with Christ on this level, she would never thirst, because her roots would grow deep. She would not topple in life’s struggles.
