Fairer than Morning

by Rosslyn Elliott

  Out beyond the hedge, beyond the road, the dogwoods and cherry trees blossomed in white and pink clouds. He led her that way without further comment. A few yards into the grove, there was a bench. It was late enough in the morning that the wood of the seat was dry. He released her and indicated the bench by opening his hand, inviting her to sit before him. She flounced down, as much as her stiff skirt would allow her to flounce.

  He seated himself next to her, far closer than he should.

  “Look at me.” It was almost a whisper. She turned, compelled by curiosity, if nothing else. He was so close. The light streamed through the fragile petals of the dogwood above them, and the dappled light made his brown eyes even deeper, picking out points of bright amber from their depths.

  “It’s not a pretty story that I have for you, but the truth. I offered to marry Emmie Flynn because it was the only honorable thing to do.”

  She flinched as his words struck new pain from the wound she had tried to cover. She had suspected it, but his confession conjured the image of him kissing the other girl, holding her close—she took a deep breath and looked straight ahead, willing herself not to cry. She had done too much of that of late.

  “Is she with child?” she asked.

  “No,” he said slowly. “But a man may owe a woman a proposal nonetheless.” He sounded mortified. She felt rather than saw him stand up. Good, now he would leave.

  To her shock, he knelt on the grass in front of her so his upturned face was only a little below hers. He took her limp hands from her lap and held them. “I am deeply sorry for wronging her, and for causing you pain. I am yours, Ann. I have been for months, with all my soul, as I never felt for Emmie. If I had married her, I would have spent the rest of my life trying not to think of you. Tell me you feel the same. I know I have hurt you, and I never want to hurt you again. I hope to have the rest of my life to make it up to you. Do you feel the same?”

  The hurt welled up again. She wanted him to feel the pain he had caused her. She turned her face. “No, I do not.”

  He paused. The hurt was palpable. Guilt mixed with her agitation.

  “I do not believe you,” he said.

  She looked back at him. He stood and raised her to her feet so they were standing closely, as only lovers would.

  “May I remove your hat for you?” He pulled gently at the tie of her hat. When the bow gave way, he lifted it off her head and dropped it behind her. She stared up at him as if mesmerized.

  She felt his arms encircle her. She stopped breathing. He drew her even closer, and she closed her eyes at the touch of his lips on hers. The union of spirit and body was so overwhelming she thought she would faint. She turned her face up to his kiss and breathed in the sweet warmth of his face. She wanted to be closer, as if the missing part of her had come home with the touch of his skin and the strong warmth of his body next to hers.

  He drew back, and she opened her eyes. The blood rushed to her face, and she tried to drop her hands from where she had placed them on his shoulders. He grabbed them, holding them in place.

  “You don’t want to marry me?” He murmured it as if he could not believe it.

  She could not lie while caught in the tender gaze of his dark eyes. “I do.”

  “You will?”

  “I’ll marry you.” She smiled, and his answering smile was so joyful she thought it would light the whole grove. He kissed her again, making her so weak she held his arms to steady herself.

  “You know I asked your father for his blessing.”

  “And he gave it, of course. The meddling matchmaker.”

  They both laughed.

  “Let’s walk for a while before we go back.” Will took her hand and started down the path through the trees, and she walked at his side.

  As they went, a gust in the breeze brought the petals drifting down around them in white and pink, feather touches on Ann’s cheek and bright on Will’s shoulders.

  Forty-One

  I WOULD PREFER YOU STAY HERE.” WILL PRESSED ANN’S hand as they stood in front of the open gate of the jail.

  He could tell from the determined expression on her lovely face that she wanted to object. “I would prefer to come in with you.” She put her hands on her hips.

  He smiled and paused, completely smitten even in the dank air that poured out from the jail. But then the seriousness of his errand came back to him. “You are certain?”

  “Yes.” She swished past him before he could say anything further. Mr. Miller stood a few feet inside the hallway, watching them with amused forbearance.

  Will’s mind returned to the present need with a shock like diving in cold water. He joined Mr. Miller. “We had better go see him.”

  The saddler nodded, growing sober. Will took Ann’s arm to guide her down the twisting corridor. Some prisoners slumped in sullen silence. The madman asked them to bring his cloak and then screamed insults when they did not answer him.

  They had come to the end, the very same cell that had held Will before. Will sent up a quick prayer. Lord, help me. He did not know if he would be able to do what he had come to do. He glanced at Ann. Her eyes were soft in the lamplight. She released his arm, as if she knew he must go alone to the bars.

  His former master sat with his back to the side wall, gazing sightlessly at the opposite wall. His formerly smooth face was shadowed with stubble, his hair unkempt. A stench rose from the bucket in the corner.

  “Jacob Good.” Will would not ever call him master again.

  He looked up. Where pride and malevolence had lived in his light stare, there was now only emptiness, like broken glass.

  “They will be taking you to the state prison next week.”

  He regarded Will without speaking.

  Mr. Miller stood beside Will, watching. He had already said that he would leave this conversation to Will, Jacob Good, and God.

  “I have spoken to your wife,” Will said. At that there was a flicker of something in Good’s countenance. Disdain? Or hurt, impossible as that seemed.

  “Dr. Loftin has pledged to help her sell the house and find gainful employment. And Tom will help her as long as she needs it.”

  Good blinked, as if a hand had passed before his face. Then his whole body twitched. Had he lost his wits?

  Will took a deep breath. It was hard to say it, even though he had sought the words on his knees for hours the previous day.

  “Jacob Good, I forgive you all the wrongs you have done me, because I have been first forgiven. And because the Lord gave his life for you as for me.”

  Will held a small Bible out through the bars. “I will pray for your soul as long as you walk this earth, that you will know forgiveness and mercy.”

  When Good remained motionless at the wall, Will bent over and slid the Bible under the door of the cell.

  He looked back inquiringly at Mr. Miller, who nodded.

  Will had said all that could be said. He stepped up to the bars one more time, unsure of what he felt as he regarded the broken figure that had once tormented him.

  But as he turned away, Jacob Good’s face glistened in the shifting light. Will walked a few steps, stunned as the realization dawned. His former master was weeping.

  Ann said nothing, seeming conscious of the gravity of the moment. She put a gentle hand in Will’s, and they followed her father quietly down the corridor.

  The jailer opened the gate once more, and Ann moved into the morning light, which glowed on the lace of her white sleeve. She would not release Will’s hand, but waited until he had come all the way through the gate to join her so she could take his arm again. He soaked in the comfort of her warm presence. He did not want to be parted from her either.

  At the feel of the sunlight on his face, Will thought that Jacob Good would not see it for some time, if ever again. For the first time, real pity filled him for the wretchedness of his former master. Lord, have mercy on him, he prayed, and meant it.

  With that prayer, it was as if the last gho
stly shackle fell away from him, one that had been there so long he had forgotten its pressure.

  He was free. There was no hatred left in him to bind him to his old master, only the inexplicable, all-encompassing love of God.

  He turned to look at his beautiful fiancée. She sensed his gaze and turned to him, still serious, as if she understood everything.

  He stopped and took her in her arms, heedless of Mr. Miller and anyone who passed by.

  He knew that no one could deserve the grace and love that broke upon him now as a rain of blessing.

  As he embraced his bride-to-be, the words he had read that morning came to him, and he gave them back as both praise and promise to the Lord.

  I, the Lord, have called thee in righteousness

  And I will hold thy hand, and keep thee

  And give thee for a covenant for the peoples

  For a light of the Gentiles

  To open blind eyes

  To bring out the prisoners from the prison

  And them that sit in darkness out of the prison house.

  Afterword

  History and Fiction

  WILLIAM HANBY AND ANN MILLER ARE REAL PEOPLE who lived in Ohio in the mid-nineteenth century, fell in love, married, and eventually had eight children. Their son Ben Hanby was a composer who wrote “Darling Nelly Gray,” a wildly popular song that influenced antebellum American sentiment against slavery. The entire family worked on the Underground Railroad, harboring fugitives at their homes in Rushville and Westerville.

  My novels about the Hanbys reflect historical fact, though the limited information available required me to imagine many elements of the world of the Hanbys. The Hanbys, the Millers, and Master Jacob Good bear their real names, but most supporting characters are fictional. In some cases, I have used names that suggest real citizens of that period, as in the Westerfield family, who eventually gave their name to the town of Westerville, Ohio. In actuality, that founding family’s surname was Westervelt.

  William Hanby really did indenture to a cruel master named Jacob Good. Master Good did shoot his neighbor’s pig, then almost beat William to death for refusing to perjure himself in court. William escaped by night and fled forty miles on foot to West Virginia, where a congressman’s wife sheltered him. Her life-saving hospitality inspired William to promise God that he would help other fugitives whenever he could.

  Continuing to Ohio, William found a haven with another saddler, Samuel Miller, and fell in love with his daughter Ann Miller. William did eventually insist on returning to Jacob Good to pay off his indenture. Jacob Good refused his offer and attempted to re-enslave him through the courts. Master Good was unsuccessful and William went free.

  Ann and William married, and William went on to run his own saddlery and work as a circuit minister for the United Brethren Church. William Hanby was also a founder of Otterbein College, which appears in the second novel of the series.

  I changed a few significant historical details as I wrote Fairer than Morning. William Hanby actually indentured under Master Good in the town of Beallsville, Pennsylvania, not far from Pittsburgh. I could not resist the opportunity to show my readers the real conditions of an industrial city in 1826; accordingly, I relocated Will’s indenture to Pittsburgh itself. I have also taken poetic license with details about parents and siblings of both Will Hanby and Ann Miller. Finally, there is no evidence that the Millers met Will Hanby in Pittsburgh before he arrived at their home in Ohio—but wouldn’t it be romantic if they had?

  The facts behind this series come from Choose You This Day, a biography of William and Ben Hanby written by Dacia Custer Shoemaker and published by the Westerville Historical Society in 1983.

  Acknowledgments

  MY HEARTFELT THANKS GO TO MY HUSBAND AND DAUGHTER, who shared my time with good grace and who always believed in “Mommy’s book.”

  I am honored to work with my editor, Ami McConnell, and all the gifted folks at Thomas Nelson, as well as my freelance editor Lisa Bergren. Both Ami and Lisa gave wonderful suggestions that encouraged me and improved the novel.

  My agent, Rachelle Gardner, first saw the potential in my work and supported me through the submission process for many long months.

  I could not have written these novels without expert feedback from fellow writers Lorena Hughes, Barbara Leachman, Dave Slade, Gwen Stewart, and Nathan James.

  My beta readers Rachel Padilla, Bonnie Bassham, Angie Drobnic Holan, and Laura Johnson gave me fresh perspective with their insightful responses to my manuscripts.

  My sister, Kathryn, and her husband, Josh, made me laugh many times with their witty wisdom about writing and publishing.

  My parents were my first teachers and passed on their love of learning.

  I am grateful to Bill and Harriet Merriman of the Westerville Historical Society, who assisted me beyond the call of duty with helpful information. Special thanks to Pam Allen and her husband, Jim, who manage the Hanby House and who are a fount of knowledge and generosity on all things Hanby related.

  Many thanks also go to Carolyn and Lowell Fisher of Rushville, who kindly supplied details about their town and gave me a tour.

  My community of writer-friends in ACFW and online shared the ups and downs of writing life, which means more than I can express here. Thanks especially to Allison Pittman and my Wordserve buddies.

  Thanks to the faculty and students of LSMSA ’88–’90, who will always be like family to me. And thanks also to the other true friends who have stuck with me through thick and thin.

  Most of all, thanks to the original Author, who gives me hope and a future.

  Reading Group Guide

  1) Ann’s journey by steamboat to Pittsburgh provides the opportunity for reflection and change, as travel often will. Why does Ann’s first trip to the city change her?

  2) How does Mr. Miller influence Will Hanby? Have you ever known someone like Mr. Miller, who has stepped into a parental role for a young person unrelated by blood?

  3) Jacob Good behaves in ways that are shocking, by normal standards of decency. What do you think motivates him in his relationships to others?

  4) After Ann reads The Mysteries of Udolpho, she reconsiders her attitude toward sentiment and benevolent acts. Do you think some novels can either benefit or harm the way people think? Why or why not? And if so, can you think of examples?

  5) Where is Will spiritually at the beginning of the novel? How and why does he change by the end of the novel?

  6) Will’s trials could have left him a broken person, but instead he chooses to help others in similar abusive situations. Do you know anyone who has turned pain into a desire for serving others?

  7) How does the environment (weather, countryside, cityscape) reflect what is happening in the story?

  8) Why does it take Ann so long to understand her emotions toward Will?

  9) Will spends much of the novel repenting his behavior with Emmie Flynn. Why do you think he crossed his own moral boundaries and did something he later regretted?

  10) Dueling was controversial in the nineteenth century. Gentlemen felt it was necessary to defend their honor, but many spoke out from the pulpit against the practice. Do you think there could be a legitimate reason for a duel in 1826?

  11) In the afterword, the author describes which parts of the novel are factual and which have been fictionalized. What is the difference between a historical account and historical fiction? What are the advantages and disadvantages of fictionalizing history?

  About the Author

  ROSSLYN ELLIOTT GREW UP IN A MILITARY FAMILY and relocated so often that she attended nine schools before her high school graduation. With the help of excellent teachers, she qualified to attend Yale University, where she earned a BA in English and theater. She worked in business and as a schoolteacher before returning to study at Emory University, where she earned a PhD in English in 2006. Her study of American literature and history inspired her to pursue her lifelong dream of writing fiction. She liv
es in the Southwest, where she homeschools her daughter and teaches in children’s ministry.