Out of the Crucible
Page 24
“That’s not going to get you off the hook, but how’s that?”
“The hymn you sang to me. About God refining our gold.” She was silent for a moment, and then with a gulp she said, “Before Daniel and I started this trip, I was desperate with loneliness. Now, well, I guess I’ve done more praying these last couple of weeks. Somehow I feel…well, not so desperate about it all. I’ve even gotten to the place where—” She stopped and glanced at Father Dyer. “Is it possible that being in the bad places can help you love God more?”
“Seems to me,” he said slowly, “human nature being what it is, a body has got to come out of them either loving the Lord more or not loving Him at all. Now mind you, this doesn’t mean we understand all the experiences we’ve been put through, or even that we particularly relish having gone through them, but still the end result shows our true mettle.”
The following day Amy was able to ask the question: “Father Dyer, when your wife died, did you feel abandoned by God?”
He was silent for a long time. Finally he lifted his head. “I suppose I wouldn’t be quite honest if I said no. Time dims the emotions, but I suppose there was the feeling of being dropped flat on my face. Is that what you meant?”
“I was angry when Daniel didn’t come back, when I didn’t hear. That made me feel terrible and then guilty. I told the Lord I was sorry.”
Father Dyer was grinning at her. “The Lord lets you apologize even when you don’t have to.” She blinked. He added, “At that point in time, He knew how you felt, and He also knew it was to be expected.”
“I know what you mean, but Father Dyer, it was more than my attitude. It was lack of trust. Now I’m ashamed. He does work things out, doesn’t He?”
“Not always the way we think He should.” His voice dropped and Amy remembered the story of his unhappy second marriage.
Softly she said, “I’m sorry. I’d forgotten.” She hunted for words, “You had all those children to raise.” He grinned his crooked grin. “Those children. Amy, I couldn’t get along without them. Maybe having them and being forced to my knees on a regular basis made it possible to learn to trust Him in a better way.”
“I suppose that’s good.”
“Considering we learn trust a little at a time.”
Father Dyer was correct about the preaching. Amy discovered it the first night they stopped at a cluster of cabins. She also discovered that he need not introduce himself. The word was passed; by the time the dishes were washed, the wagons and horses began to arrive.
The night was duplicated over and over—too many times, it seemed to Amy, as she counted out the days.
Midpoint in their travel, Father Dyer brought up his favorite subject. At noon they stopped to eat beside the river. Later, while Father Dyer rested with his hat pulled over his face, Amy walked up the bank of the river. She had found three nuggets in the spring-freshened stream coming down the hill when Father Dyer joined her.
He nodded his head. “It’s a good time of year to find nuggets easily. The freezing breaks up the ground and the water washes them loose. He rolled the nuggets in his fingers and said, “Nice. They’ll keep bread on the table for a time.”
She admitted, “After all the sermons and talking about the true gold, I feel like a grub.”
He sat down on a rock and assured her, “There’s nothing wrong with pulling out a nugget. I’ve spent considerable time digging out gold, especially when the offerings have been sparse.”
Amy admitted, “Since you gave me the crucible, I’ve found a good handful.”
“What are you going to use them for?”
“A piano. Oh, Father Dyer, more than any one thing on earth, I want a piano. Is that a bad reason to look for nuggets?”
“As long as you don’t take up playing for dances again, it isn’t.”
Amy flushed. “At the time it didn’t seem wrong, but now just thinking about it makes me so ashamed. When I think of Buckskin Joe, and the way the smallpox hit right after revival, I wonder if it would have made a difference if I had said no.” She gulped and stood up.
Back on the road, he leveled a searching look at her and warned, “Might as well get yourself geared up for this. There’s nobody working for the Lord with an ounce of seriousness in his bones who isn’t a seeker after Experimental Religion. Running after God with a questing heart. In the 1850s, to an uneducated miner struggling to find peace with God, it was probably mostly an experiment. It goes this way, just like the Apostle Paul said in his sixth chapter of Romans, as well as the seventh chapter: you can take all you want from the Lord—salvation, grace, and all the other good gifts—but sooner or later you’re going to have to start giving back.”
He settled into his coat collar, and for a short time they rode silently. Finally he sat up and said, “Getting Experimental Religion is like bursting the skin of human nature. Early on, after we first encounter God’s saving grace, we begin to get the idea our humanity just isn’t big enough to hold all He wants to put inside.
“Well, when you burst the skin of human nature, then we’re to the place where we can begin to allow God to shape us into His image. But it takes trust. Trust means you acknowledge God has better ideas than you do, and it’s best you give in to His will.”
Again they rode quietly together until he straightened, grinned, and said, “Sometimes I feel like God is pulling me through a knothole backward in order to accomplish His purposes in my life.”
Amy laughed. “Knothole! Father Dyer, when I was very young we had a little kitten. Too young to be left to roam outside. One day we left him in the lean-to. Unfortunately there was a knothole in the bottom board.”
“Knowing how a cat’s head is shaped, I can guess what happened,” Father Dyer replied. “How did you get him out?”
“Pulled, greased him down, pulled again. Finally Father decided the kitten had to come out, so he pulled again. It was a happy ending for all of us, particularly the cat.”
Later in the day Father Dyer returned to his subject. “Amy, you know, religion isn’t worth a working dollar until God is gifted too.”
He paused and looked intently at her. “Are you having a hard time doing what you make up your mind needs to be done?” He squinted. “And what about the other issue?”
Amy was quiet for a moment as she studied his face. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“That you’re walking a tightrope, scared to death you’re going to fall? Amy, if a person has a ten-cent pinch of that kind of insecurity inside himself, then the old devil is going to push it to the limit. You’ll end up afraid to make a move for fear you’ll fail.
“Would you like to get beyond that feeling? Would you like to have the absolute confidence the Lord will be with you all the time, pouring His strength and His power into you, so that no matter what you face, where you go, He’s there with you?”
When she didn’t answer, he added, “I know it sounds like a fairy tale if you haven’t put it to the test. There’s one catch.”
“What?”
“The Lord isn’t in a position to do anything like this in your life until you’ve decided you’ll sign over the whole mortgage. He gets all of you—signed, sealed, and delivered. Now and forever. You get God in control of you, walking hand in hand. And then you start trusting. See, this is a provision for living.
“I’d like to see you and Daniel make a go of it. He’s a mighty fine preacher boy, but he can’t make it without all the help you can give.”
Soberly Amy revealed her anxiety. “Father Dyer, there’s something that frightens me. Mother was in the same position I’m in, she—” She found the words impossible to say; silently she looked at him.
“Amy, God never asks us to do what He will not enable us to do, but we must ask. For strength, for wisdom, for courage—nearly every day I ask for the whole list. His word tells us He’ll make us more than conquerors, but there’s something preceding this.
“We’ve got to let the Spirit set us free from the
tight skin of human nature—the fears, the ugliness. Amy, it’s a way of life. That’s why I call it Experimental Religion. You start out with God’s Holy Ghost help, but you have to keep at it every day of your life.”
On the day they rode up the mountain, Father Dyer met her grin with a smile. “You’re right. The down slope on this mountain marks the beginning of Daniel’s circuit. You’re on familiar territory now.”
“Except that I haven’t traveled this part of the circuit with him.”
“Better do it before the young’uns are born, because you’ll be too busy afterward. You notice these people are mighty proud to meet the parson’s wife.”
“Daniel said so. I guess I didn’t give it as much thought as I should have. Guess I didn’t really think he wanted me along.”
When they dropped down the other side of the mountain range and stopped for the night, they discovered Daniel had been through on his circuit the week before.
The rosy-cheeked miner’s wife beamed at Amy and said, “Didn’t know you weren’t at home. Met your father at conference time a year ago. Sure do like him. I also like that young man you’re married to. He’s getting more spunk about preaching, and he’s got a sympathetic ear that nearly gets pulled off every trip he makes this way. Guess we shouldn’t take up so much of his time, but it’s good to have a parson to listen.”
When they reached California Gulch, Amy nudged her horse with a sharp heel. Father Dyer grinned at her as they took the road winding through the jumble of buildings and turned toward the mouth of the gulch. Amy noticed that spring had come. In the midst of the mine dumps green grass had laid a carpet for the early yellow and purple of mountain blossoms.
She also saw that the frantic activity around the mines continued unabated. Although it was late afternoon, the sluice boxes were full and the wagons continued up and down the road.
She measured the height of the disgorged earth and rock around the mouth of the mine shafts and the line of men along the sluice boxes. With a nod she said, “There’s progress. I’ve been gone a long time. It’s good to be home.”
Amy’s mare quickened her steps as they started up the slope toward home. Father Dyer called, “Hold up. I’ll just give you the reins of this filly now. Don’t suppose you need me around this evening, so I’ll head on up to my cabin. Tell Daniel I’ll see him down Granite way next week. Tomorrow I’ll be heading out before the sky’s light.” He grinned up at Amy as he handed the reins to her, saying, “So long!”
She nodded. “Thank you, Father Dyer, for the company and the sermons.” She watched him cut up the side of the mountain to the little cabin tucked back in the trees. He waved and she dug her heel in the mare’s side. “Come along, you gals. I want to cook a good dinner for Daniel tonight. Even cooking on that funny little stove sounds good!”
As Amy rode past the Withrop cabin, Lettie appeared on the stoop. “Hello there! Daniel said you’d be home soon. Too bad he couldn’t wait around for you. Just missed him.”
Dismay washed through Amy. She sighed and asked, “Where’s he gone?”
The woman shrugged. “Didn’t get it all clear. Either on the circuit or else to Denver City. He came for supper two nights ago and said something about a conference time in Denver City. I supposed you’d know all about it.”
“Oh, dear,” Amy murmured. “Guess I forgot. I’ll be heading for home. I’m tired.” She flipped the reins and let the horses trot up the hill.
Amy dropped the bedroll and bag on the front stoop before leading the horses around to the corral. The chicken coop was still empty. Amy stared at it and addressed the empty roosts, “Well, that means he’s going to be gone a time if he didn’t bring the chicks home. Probably Denver City.”
She pulled the saddles and bridles off the mares and shooed them into the corral. Slowly she mounted the steps leading to the front door. With a weary sigh, she unlocked the door and tumbled the bedroll inside. As she turned to pick up the bag, she noticed the twin ruts from wagon wheels. They had cut deeply into the soft soil of the lane leading up to the front door.
“That’s strange,” she murmured, “a heavy wagon’s been in here. Hope it isn’t been someone stealing the stove and Daniel’s books. ’Tis certain that’s the only things of value.” With a shrug she pushed open the door and entered. She stopped and blinked.
Nearly the whole cabin was filled with a dark, gleaming piano. “Daniel!” she cried. “Oh, my darling Daniel, a piano! But I know we can’t afford a piano now.”
Her fingers ached to touch the keys. Forgetting her tiredness, she dropped the bag and went to pull the stool close. Amy ran her fingers across the keys and trembled with excitement at the rich sound filling the cabin. “Oh, glorious! Beautiful dream come true,” she whispered, blinking at the tears in her eyes. “At least until Daniel returns to the scolding he shall get for being so extravagant, I shall play to my heart’s content.”
She ran her fingers across the keys, touching every chord and running the scales until she realized her cold, stiffened fingers were numb. With a sigh of pure joy, Amy went to build up a fire. She filled a pan with water for tea and then turned back to the piano. There was a scrap of paper on the table.
“Ah, a note from Daniel.” Leaning across the table for the paper, she backed close to the stove. Except for the glow of the fire, the room was nearly dark. Amy looked for the matches and lighted the lamp. Settling on the bench close to the fire, she opened the paper.
With a frown she studied it. “Why, this is a bill of lading. It’s very strange. The piano is directed to me, but the sender is—” She gasped, “Lucas Tristram! This is unbelievable.” She started up from the bench and then stopped. She began to laugh and the tears rolled down her cheeks. “Silly girl. You should have guessed. It isn’t yours at all.” She wiped at the tears and tried desperately to deny the hurt. “If you just hadn’t jumped to conclusions! Besides, why didn’t you guess Lucas had something like this in mind instead of a practical gift like Bibles or hymnals?”
The thought caught up with her and she turned to stare at the piano. “This is a very expensive gift for a church he doesn’t even attend. Why?”
There were the obvious answers. “Lucas, you are still trying to make a splash, to impress everyone. Or, is it possible you are trying to say something else, something about me?” She moved uneasily on her bench. The memory of that horrible day still burned into her mind—the day Lucas and Daniel had faced each other in Central City. She could still see Lucas’s arrogance contrasted with Daniel’s shabby coat and hurt brown eyes. Slowly she admitted, “I have a feeling, Lucas, that you aren’t above sticking a dagger in a person and then twisting it for the joy of seeing him writhe!”
The question was still in her mind when another thought occurred. She remembered the handbill Lettie had shown her. Lucas had been in Oro City at the same time. And there was Lucas, dapper and smug, standing on the plaza in Santa Fe, nearly under the Confederate flag flying over the Palace of the Governors.
Finally Amy got to her feet. “There is a possibility that I have judged Lucas harshly. One thing is certain; I’ll not let him make a statement with this piano. There’s not to be one hint of a tie between Lucas and me.”
But in the next breath she said brightly, “However, I’ll give him the benefit of a doubt. It is possible the piano was misdirected, and that Lucas intended it to be simply a gift to the church. Tomorrow, first thing, I’ll find a man to move the piano to the church. Quickly, before Daniel has a chance of seeing it here and being hurt by whatever devious thoughts Lucas may have had in mind.”
Going to the piano, Amy pulled her fingers across the keys, listening with her thoughts overlapped by Daniel’s sad brown eyes. She sighed and started to turn away. Now something else caught at her thoughts, a violet velvet dress.
Slowly her hand crept to her lips. The memory was impossible to deny—after she had fled Buckskin Joe, in that terrible suspended time when she had been running away from Daniel.
She moved close to the fire and tried to warm her hands. The old fear surfaced. Like mother, like daughter.
With a sob she threw herself across the bed. “Oh, Father, at the time it was ugly; now I see it as you do. Sin I couldn’t face long enough to really confess. Buried and ignored.” She sank her head into the pillow and wept, her heart breaking at the revelation.
When Amy finally got up and went to the stove, she knew the ugly sore spot was gone.
The water in the kettle was boiling, but for one final time, Amy went slowly to the piano and sat down. Her critical ear continued to applaud the deep, melodious tone of the instrument, but already her emotions had flattened.
She tried to feel happy. Now there was a piano to be played. Now the miners all up and down the gulch would hear the music each Sabbath day. Perhaps they would come, at least to hear the music.
Amy stared down at her hands resting on the piano keys, and the sure knowledge surfaced. “I have to do it, don’t I, Lord? I have to send this lovely piano back, so that there will be no ties between Lucas Tristram and me. And there’s more. Things won’t be right until I tell Daniel how I’ve been false to him.”
Chapter 26
Early the next morning, just after the sun had broken free of the mountaintops, Amy took the mare and headed down the gulch. She planned as she rode. “Seems somebody at the livery stable could give me a hand.” At the same time she shook her head, “A piano is heavy. I remember watching them move the piano into the boardinghouse in Central City.” For a moment she mused over that scene. What an awesome event it was! Little did I dream there’d be one like it in the middle of my house!