by Marian Wells
Slowly Amelia got to her feet. Amy was surprised to see the tears on her cheeks. Softly she murmured, “Eli, I didn’t realize—”
Daniel said, “Amy, let’s go home.”
When he closed the door on Eli and Amelia, he pulled Amy’s arm through his. “You’re blinking. Have a bug in your eye or do you want to have a good cry?”
“Daniel, if you push with one more word, I shall cry in spite of myself.”
“Then I’ll talk of something else. Amy, I think one of those situations we’ve feared has come up. Matthew has recognized your mother. He didn’t explain, and I let him know I hoped he wouldn’t. He did request we not mention his name to her.”
Amy sighed and rubbed at her eyes. “Most certainly. After this afternoon, that would be the most terrible thing that could happen to her. Oh, Daniel, do you suppose it will be this way for the rest of our lives?”
From the weary shake of his head, she guessed her question was answered. After walking in silence, he turned to grin down at her. “Mrs. Gerrett, is life getting more confusing, or am I just getting old?”
“Old, at twenty-one!” She patted his hand. “You mean because of the way we were acting back there? Daniel, do you suppose it will be possible for them to ever—”
“Be sweethearts again?” He pursed his lips for a minute before saying, “At times I think your father is a mite stuffy—now, Amy, don’t jump to conclusions. I admire and respect him, but I think he needs to have the starch washed out of his soul.”
Amy collapsed against his arm, laughing up at him. “Daniel, my dear! Some times I think you resemble my father more than you realize. But then, in this family, I think someone needs a little starch.”
Chapter 16
At breakfast the next day, Daniel drank the last of his coffee and pushed the cup to the middle of the table. Amy reached for the coffeepot. “Matt,” he said, “I heard a rumor yesterday. I’ve been pondering whether I should pass it on. I guess that’s the thing to do. It’s about prisoner exchange.
“Some of the officers were talking at the armory; it sounded like reliable information to me. They told me they heard a contingent of enlisted men is scheduled to head east with prisoners for exchange.”
Matthew dropped his spoon; slowly Amy put the coffeepot down and looked at him. Matt’s pallor surprised her, but a glance at Daniel’s sober face kept her silent. Finally Matt looked up. His voice was even and controlled as he said, “Well, I guess that’s none of your concern. I’d appreciate time to adjust to the idea.”
Amy blurted out, “What will that mean to you?”
He shrugged. “It’s a straight trade. You get a man and they get a man. Soldier, if you please. I get another chance to have my head blown off.” With another shrug, he struggled to his feet and paced the cabin.
“Your arm’s not healed yet, and you’re still limping on that leg,” Daniel said slowly. “I’m of the opinion you won’t be sent into action again. Right now, I’d like to talk to the doctor. Could be he won’t think you’re up to travel.”
“Thanks, friend, but I’m certain you’ve pushed as far as they’ll let you. I appreciate all you’ve—”
“Hey, fella, you’re not done with us yet!” Daniel exclaimed.
“I only wish the whole matter of war were behind us,” Matt muttered as he began to pace back and forth. “What ugliness! I don’t think Jeff Davis foresaw it dragging on like this. The suffering it causes!” He looked up at Daniel. “In the beginning the idea behind the show of force was simply to underline the fact that the Constitution supports freedom. That’s a subject that attracts men, but I’ll admit”—he paused to shoot a quick glance at Daniel—“it’s starting to look as if we’ve tried to carry it too far.”
Daniel said slowly, “Freedom seems to mean different things to different people.”
Matthew’s voice overlapped Daniel’s. “Supposedly there was to be a big rallying cry for freedom, a show of arms, and then we’d all be satisfied. See, Daniel, the issue is freedom for mankind to live as he pleases, not—”
“Freedom for the slaves?” Amy couldn’t keep the words back. She had been thinking of Aunt Clara Brown, and the way her face saddened as she talked about her people. Abruptly she shoved the last dish on the shelf and rushed to the door.
For a moment there was silence in the room as Daniel watched Matthew. He turned from the window. “You’ll be glad to see the last of me—I’ve done nothing except cause conflict. I’ve sent her flying off again, for the second day in a row.”
“Don’t take it personally,” Daniel grinned. “Besides not liking the gentle discussion, she has a bigger need right now, and it’s to be with her mother.” As quickly as he said the words, he regretted them. Matt’s face was a puzzle of unvoiced questions mingled with a strange sorrow.
It was Daniel’s turn to pace while he hunted a safe topic. With his voice rumbling with emotion, Matthew said, “You’ve managed to poke religion at me; now answer a few questions.”
Daniel watched Matt carefully sit on the edge of the bunk. “It’s about the cause.”
“You mean North versus South?”
“If you want to put it that way,” he replied roughly, adding, “Daniel, this isn’t an argument for fun.”
“I didn’t think it was.” Their eyes met and Daniel was surprised at the relief washing across Matthew’s face.
He said, “You’re a parson. I was raised in the church, but there’s still much I don’t understand about religion.” He added, “I’ve always considered myself Christian, even when I was pulling the trigger on a Yankee brother. Daniel, what’s bottom line for Christianity?”
“You mean, what must you believe? Matthew, that’s easy enough to answer, but I doubt I can make my answer clear without a great deal of talk. See, I’m not a scholar.”
“I’m willing to listen.” For a moment Daniel was caught by the unexpected humility in the man’s voice. He studied the bowed head and cleared his throat.
“Matt, the Bible lays it straight. Christian faith isn’t belonging to a church or hugging a list of do’s and don’ts. It’s loving the Lord your God with all your mind and heart. It’s believing Jesus Christ was God, come to die for your sins.”
“I know all that. But what does that mean?”
“Accepting the fact you can’t be righteous on your own, but you can let Jesus Christ clothe you with His righteousness. Just accept the gift He gave you when He died for your sins. My sins too.”
“Daniel, I did all that long ago. It’s dry ashes. Why do I still feel I’m the worst of sinners in God’s sight?”
Daniel studied Matthew’s face before answering. “Let’s put it this way. If I were feeling the same way, I’d know there was a reason. First, I’d want to check myself. Do I really believe God meant it when He said that Jesus Christ died for my sins? Do I believe that the only condition, the only way it is possible for me to really believe, is by accepting the sacrifice and then obeying God? And that it’s not just for me, but for all who accept Him and obey?”
Daniel saw the shadow and gently said, “I had a big struggle at that point—wanting my will instead of God’s. Matt, is that a problem? I’ve been around you long enough to know you’re as strong-willed as I am.”
“Fighting cock, my dad called me.”
Daniel kept on. “Also, I had the wrong slant on life. Took a while for me to learn I was to listen to God’s ideas on how to live.”
Matthew was lying on the bunk now. His good arm was under his head, and he stared at the ceiling. Daniel continued. “Then, too, I found out that an important part of Christianity is that God is concerned about more than just forgiving sins. He’s in the life-changing business.”
There was silence from the bed; for a moment Daniel wondered if Matthew was asleep. But he kept on. “And this isn’t just to please himself and get the work done; there’s a bigger part. It’s to save us from ourselves and help us be comfortable with life. To tell the truth, Matt, I disco
vered it’s mighty hard to live up to God’s easiest requests—like loving our fellowman.”
Daniel nearly forgot Matthew as he said, “The Apostle Paul talks about knowing the right way to live, but being unable to do the good instead of the evil.”
He got up to pace the room. “I don’t think this part of Christian living is talked about all that much. But it can happen, when we recognize our powerlessness to change and begin to ask the Lord to change us.”
Matthew moved restlessly and Daniel quickly added, “Dependence on God must become a way of life. Dependence also helps us grow. The psalmist said, ‘I will run the way of thy commandments, when thou shalt enlarge my heart.’”
Matthew sat up. Bitterly he said, “But it’s too late.”
“Not as long as you’re still alive.” Daniel studied the twisted face and added, “Matt, I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I do know that after asking the Lord’s forgiveness, I had to forgive myself. I know it isn’t easy, and sometimes it’s impossible to change the pain.”
Matthew sat for a long time with his head in his hands. Finally he said, “Look, back when this all started, I made some bad choices, and they can’t be changed.”
“Would it help to talk about them? I probably can’t do a thing about it, but I’ll listen.” Daniel sat down, while Matt got up to pace the room.
“Big hero me,” he muttered. “I guess I was swayed by my emotions without thinking through all my beliefs.” He wheeled on Daniel. “But maybe I didn’t have any—real ones, that is. I left a wonderful cause, and all of it happened when I allowed a strong-minded man talk me into endorsing things I didn’t really believe.
“I’ll have to admit I understand that now. But at that time I didn’t comprehend it all, and I was willing to let him do my thinking for me.” Daniel blinked and shook his head, but Matthew didn’t see him.
He continued. “I can’t talk about it all—it’s too personal. But the worst part of it all is that I fell in love with a beautiful woman and married her. She was Creole. In addition, after we were married she told me some other things about her—things that made it impossible for my family to accept her. I guess you have an idea what it means to belong to an old southern family; good blood means a lot.” Daniel winced, but Matthew hurried on.
“I wasn’t at home when all this happened. When I got my head on straight, I started thinking about what I’d done to my family. Mind you, I still loved my wife. But I knew it was an impossible situation.”
He turned to face Daniel. “I suppose I was an idealistic fool in the beginning. Crystal was lovely and loving. I thought it would all work out. Of course it couldn’t. But I take blame for the failure of our marriage.
“When this fellow helped me get my thinking straightened out, I realized there was only one solution. I had to go back the way I came. That meant home and my responsibilities. Crystal—well, we parted under the worst of circumstances. It’s been several years now. I’m older and wiser. I know there’s no way I’ll ever be able to get rid of the past. Right now I’d give anything to see her and just say I’m sorry. But there’s no way. I doubt she’s even going by the name Crystal Thomas now.”
Daniel started to his feet and then stopped. He was busy pondering Matthew’s statement and didn’t hear him add, “If only I could find Clara Brown, she could tell me.”
Creole—Crystal Thomas. There’s no mistake; that’s his wife! As the thoughts ran through his mind, Daniel recalled the last time he had seen Crystal. From dowdy maid to beautiful woman. That dress, those feeble protests. How can I tell him I think she’s a prostitute?
Matthew faced him. “Pretty bad, huh?”
Daniel took a deep breath. “Might say I need to do a little thinking about the whole situation.”
Matthew blinked. “You think the Lord won’t forgive me?” For a minute Daniel paused. He studied the arrogant face in front of him, and for a moment distaste twisted through Daniel. Looking up, their eyes met and now Daniel saw the pain, the honest questions.
He sighed. “Matthew, we don’t think alike, even hold dear the same things. But no, I didn’t mean that! Matt, of course He forgives. I know that from personal experience. Sin is sin, and He forgave mine.
“I have an idea you’ve asked Him that a million times. Now’s the time to begin to trust His promise to forgive.”
The lines of strain began to lift from Matthew’s face. Daniel hesitated and then said gently, “What God wants for you—for both of you, I have no way of knowing. Seems you might need to find her and make the bad things right.”
Hastily Daniel added, “But you’ll have to accept the possibility you’ll never see her again. Sometimes the past can’t be changed. Who knows what her circumstances are now?”
He nodded, “She’s probably divorced me and remarried; it’s been a long time.”
Daniel watched as Matthew continued to pace the room. The strain was showing in the lines creasing his forehead. Once he glanced at Daniel, opened his mouth and then turned away. Just as deliberately Daniel pressed his lips together.
Finally Matthew headed for the bunk, muttering, “I’m going to try to sleep now.”
“I guess I’ll go look for Amy. See you in a couple of hours.”
Eli met Daniel at the door, hobbling around on the new crutches. Nodding at the contraptions, he said, “I want to be up to traveling when the next wagon train heads for Colorado. Can’t say I’m too content with this serving as an extra leg.” Slowly he crossed the room, saying, “Amy and Amelia are off visiting with the women folk. Might as well come sit.”
“My patient is sleeping,” Daniel explained.
After they were both seated, Eli asked, “What do you think about trying to get some homestead land?”
Daniel studied the sharp eyes before answering. “I thought your getting out of the ministry was something you two had agreed upon.”
He shrugged. “I decided. Amelia isn’t resting easy with it.”
Daniel pushed his back against the rough log wall and said, “I don’t think I ought to be passing my opinions around. Isn’t it enough to have two women pushing at you?”
“Then you do agree with them.” Surprisingly, Eli sighed and grinned jauntily. “Well, Danny boy, since you admitted, then pretend you’re a stand-in for Father Dyer and hear me out. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this whole situation. Decided I’ve been too rigid, or whatever it is that Amy was thinking. I guess I need to quit worrying about all the rules and regulations of the church and start thinking about people.” He threw a quick glance at Daniel. “Maybe I’ve been…self-righteous. Might be the reason Amelia and I’ve had troubles.”
He sighed and took up the dialogue. “People. I need to help people. Not pointing a finger at their sins; I can let the Lord do that. But I guess I can offer my arm—once I get free of these crutches.” He grinned wryly, then lapsed into thoughtfulness.
Daniel rubbed at his furrowed brow and waited. Eli added, “Seems what I need to do is to find a way to help people learn to be comfortable with the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Tentatively Daniel asked, “What’s the problem?”
Eli blinked. “Why, not a thing, except that Amelia doesn’t realize I need a way to support us while I’m going about the real business.”
“Then you really are finished with the church?”
He moved uneasily, then posed a question. “You think I’m still unwilling to face an investigation?”
“Looks that way from here.”
“Is it possible to think the Lord’s leading me another direction? Think I could do the work just as well behind the plow? As a farmer instead of being a preacher?”
Before Daniel could think out an answer, the door opened and Amy entered. “Daniel! So you and Matt did run out of talk.”
“Matt was sleeping when I left. I think I wore him out.”
“Mother and I have made the rounds. So, Husband, shall we go home?”
Outside the cabin Daniel
remarked, “I’m beginning to think you’re really enjoying being this close to Mother and Father, even if it’s with your husband under guard.”
“Well, I can’t take your arrest too seriously.” She paused and added, “Mother and Father—yes, it is a treat to be here with them. But I promise you, I’m not getting soft. I’ll be ready for Oro City when we get there.”
“How’s that?”
“I don’t really know, except I find myself thinking and wondering about the place and people. Maybe it’s just the home feeling that’s starting to grow on me.”
“The place? Or is it me and you?” He leaned toward her, his eyes fixed on hers.
“Daniel, don’t kiss me out here where the neighbors can see!”
“The cabin is getting too crowded,” he muttered before opening the door.
Amy walked through the door, saying, “I thought you said Matthew was sleeping. He isn’t here.”
Daniel went past her to the bunk. “There’s a note,” he said. Sitting down he unfolded the scrap of paper. He read the note slowly, then handed it to Amy and dropped his face in his hands.
Amy studied the scrawl and read aloud: “Thanks, both of you. It’s only fair I tell you. I’ve slipped the noose. Please don’t say anything until morning, my friends. This one last favor, please. I want to get as far as possible before they know.” She carefully folded the paper. “Daniel, is it because of what you heard?”
“Of course. I should have realized this would happen. But then I would have been obligated to—”
“Report Matt? Oh, Daniel, I’m glad you didn’t guess.”
“Amy, you don’t understand. Matt is injured. Alone he’s not going to make it anywhere. It isn’t possible for him to survive. In that uniform, he runs the chance of being shot rather than questioned.”
“You don’t really believe that.”
“I do. This is war.” Daniel stood up and reached for his jacket. For one moment Amy studied his face and then threw herself at him.
“Daniel!” she cried, “don’t leave me here alone—even for a few hours! I can’t stand it.”
