Ransom of Love

by Al Lacy

  Hastening that direction, she found the door closed when she reached it. Without knocking, she stepped inside to find her husband pacing the floor in front of the fireplace, his features pinched and pallid.

  Martha rushed to Finn and took hold of his hands. “Darling, listen,” she said, “just because Mose’s other dream came true doesn’t mean this one will.”

  “Who are you trying to convince, Martha? Me or yourself?”

  “Well, both of us. Maybe it won’t happen.”

  Terror coursed through Finn and he squeezed Martha’s hands until she winced with pain. “Martha, I wouldn’t be so scared if his dream about George hadn’t happened to the letter. Does that old man have some kind of supermental powers?”

  “I don’t know … he claims not. Come, dear, sit down in your chair. I’ll send one of the overseers to get Dr. Bosworth. He can come and give you a sedative to settle your nerves.”

  Finn shook his head. “That isn’t necessary. I don’t want anyone to know about this. Not in town and not on this plantation. Mose won’t tell anyone else, will he?”

  “I’m sure he won’t,” Martha said. “It wouldn’t be like him to do that.”

  “Anyway, Dr. Bosworth couldn’t help me.”

  “But if he was here—”

  “No, Martha. Can you imagine what Dr. Bosworth would think of us if we called him out here and told him we wanted him to stay until midnight to keep me alive … because of some old slave’s dream? He’d think we had lost our minds. We have to face this thing alone.”

  “When you say alone, you are including Edward, aren’t you? He’s our son. He has to know.”

  “Of course. But no one else. Not the house slaves. Nobody.”

  As he spoke, Finn went to his favorite overstuffed chair and sat down. Martha pulled up a straight-backed wooden chair and sat down facing him.

  Edward Colvin climbed from his buggy at the back porch and entered the house. There was no one in the kitchen. Figuring to find his father in the library, he went there but it was unoccupied.

  The door to the den was closed. He paused, for he could hear his mother’s voice, and she was talking rapidly.

  He tapped on the door and called, “Mom … Pa … can I come in? I need to talk to Pa.”

  There were light footsteps, then the door opened. Edward saw the distraught look on his mother’s face and noted his father sitting in his overstuffed chair, his face buried in his hands. “Mom, what’s wrong? You’re pale as a ghost.”

  “Come in, son,” Martha said, stepping back to allow his entrance.

  Edward moved toward his father, running his gaze between his parents. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Mose had another dream, Edward,” Martha said.

  “S-someone else is going to die? Wh-who—”

  “Me!” cut in Finn.

  “Oh, no, Pa! This can’t be! What did Mose dream?”

  When he heard, Edward fell to his knees in front of Finn, crying out that it must not happen. Martha knelt beside him and leaned toward Finn to embrace him.

  Ol’ Mose finished weeding the flower garden and entered the mansion by the front door. As he shuffled down the hall, he saw Edward coming from the kitchen, carrying a cup of water. Edward gave him a hard look. “Why did you have to tell your dream to my mother?”

  “Edward!” Martha called from the doorway. “Don’t talk about it out here. One of the house slaves might hear you! Come into the den. You, too, Mose.”

  When Edward closed the door, Martha said, “I heard what you said to Mose, son. He didn’t want to tell me the dream. I saw in his eyes that something was bothering him and made him tell me.”

  Edward glanced at the silver-haired old Negro. “Okay, Mose. I’m sorry. This whole thing has me very upset.”

  “I can understand that, Mr. Edward. But it is possible this dream won’t come true.”

  “Your dream about George came true. Why shouldn’t this one?”

  Mose had no reply. He looked at Martha. “I finished the weedin’, ma’am. What else did you want done at the flower garden?”

  “I … I need to show you. Later. You can go on back to your cabin. If I need you later, I’ll send for you.”

  As Mose closed the door behind him, Edward handed his father a cup of water.

  Finn gulped it, spilling much of it on his hands and clothing.

  The Colvins stayed in the den through lunchtime and Martha found Mandy in the middle of the afternoon to tell her not to prepare supper.

  Finn was numb with fear, and though Martha and Edward were doing all they could to encourage him, the same fear gripped them.

  As the sun was setting, there was a knock at the door. Edward opened it to find Ol’ Mose standing there with a Bible in his hand.

  “Mr. Edward, could I please talk to Master Finn?”

  Edward turned and said, “Pa, Mose wants to talk to you. He’s got his Bible with him.”

  Finn leaned close to Martha and whispered, “The old fanatic just wants to preach to me again. I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Tell Mose that your father is not up to talking to him,” Martha said.

  When night fell, there was another knock at the door. Edward opened it to find Mandy standing there with a worried look on her face.

  “Mr. Edward,” she said, trying to see past him into the room, “if’n you an’ Massa Finn and Miss Martha are feelin’ hungry, I will be glad to fix somethin’ light. Soup or somethin’ like that.”

  “No, Mandy, we’re not hungry.”

  The worry on her face deepened. “Is somethin’ bad wrong, Mr. Edward?”

  “I appreciate your concern, but it’s nothing for you to be concerned about. Good night, Mandy.”

  When Edward returned to his parents, Martha said, “Son, let’s take your father to the library. He can lie down on the sofa.”

  “That would be good, Mom. Would you like that, Pa?”

  Finn nodded. When he stood up, his knees were so weak that Edward had to support him.

  When they had made him as comfortable as possible on the sofa in the library, Martha and Edward drew up chairs and sat close to him.

  Finn glanced at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the library and noted that it was 7:25. He drew in a shuddering breath.

  “Please, dear,” Martha said, patting his arm. “Just concentrate on the fact that Edward and I need you. When that old clock strikes twelve, you will still be with us.”

  Finn closed his eyes and fought the distress welling up within him. It seemed only seconds had passed when the clock began to strike eight times. Its sound caused Finn’s body to jerk, and he lifted his head to stare at the clock as if it were the very messenger of death.

  His voice rose in panic. “I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die! And there’s nothin’ I can do about it!”

  Several hours had passed, and Martha was patting her husband and speaking in soft, soothing tones when the old grandfather clock began striking the eleventh hour.

  “Martha!” Finn cried. “It’s my heart! I’ve got these awful pains in my chest!”

  Edward gripped his father’s arm. “Hang on, Pa! Hang on!”

  Seconds later, the pain eased somewhat.

  Martha lifted his head and placed a cup of water to his quivering lips. “Here, darling. Drink.”

  When he had drained the cup, he said, “What time is it?”

  Martha flicked a glance at the clock. “Three minutes after eleven. You just do as Edward said. Hold on.”

  When it was almost midnight, cold sweat covered Finn Colvin’s body as he waited to be snatched through death’s door. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was two minutes to midnight, then looked toward the ceiling and cried out, “Please, God! Oh, God in heaven, please don’t let me die!”

  Martha and Edward looked at each other. This was the first time they had ever heard him talk to God. He had used God’s name in vain repeatedly over the years, but he had never prayed for anything.


  When the last chime was echoing away, Finn opened his eyes, looked at Martha and Edward, and began to weep with relief. His voice barely more than a squeak, he said, “I made it, Martha! Mose said it was supposed to happen before midnight. I’m not gonna die! You were right, Martha. You said when that old clock struck twelve, I’d still be with you. The dream was wrong!”

  Martha wrapped her arms around him, weeping for joy. “Yes! Thank God, it was wrong!”

  It took Finn some time to shake off the effects of the ordeal, but after he had pulled himself together, he said, “The pains are gone from my chest.”

  “Wonderful!” said Martha. “They were probably caused by tension.”

  Finn glanced at the clock. “It’s almost twelve-thirty. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse. Let’s go to the kitchen and eat somethin’, and get to bed. The richest man in the county is still alive and he has work to do tomorrow!”

  The Colvin family embraced each other and headed for the door. Just as they stepped into the hall, there was a loud knock at the back door. Mandy had left lanterns burning in the kitchen.

  “Who could be knockin’ at this time of night?” Finn muttered. “Edward, go see who it is and what they want.”

  Finn’s knees were still weak and he leaned on Martha as the two of them moved slowly down the hall. When Edward opened the back door, they stopped and looked on as a young slave named James stood there with tears streaming down his face.

  “Mr. Edward, I know it’s late, but I saw de lights was still on downstairs.”

  “It’s all right, James. What’s wrong?”

  “I jis’ wanted you and Massa Finn and Miss Martha to know ’bout Ol’ Mose as soon as possible.”

  “Ol’ Mose? What about him?”

  “Well, suh, Ol’ Mose was havin’ bad pains in his chest late dis evenin’, an’ he died ’bout ten minutes befo’ midnight.”

  ON SUNDAY MORNING, APRIL 5, 1857, Martha Colvin stood on the wide, sweeping porch of the mansion, holding her Bible in one hand and a parasol in the other. There was a definite feel of spring in the air as she raised her gaze toward the azure sky dotted with puffy clouds.

  A small contented smile crossed her lips. It had been over a year and a half since she had opened her heart to Jesus, and the rich joy of her salvation was as fresh in her soul as the day she was saved.

  She was wearing a dress almost the color of the sky, and her eyes of the same shade lit up when she saw the Johnson carriage coming down the lane. The Johnsons had been such a blessing to her … as had been the Moores. She thought of how Finn had changed to a degree after his scare over Ol’ Mose’s dream, and now allowed her to go to church. The Johnsons and the Moores alternated picking her up for services.

  Martha remembered how going to church before her conversion was an almost painful mixture of Holy Spirit conviction, a desperate desire to be saved, and fear of what Finn’s reaction would be if she became a Christian. Now she could hardly wait from service to service. The fellowship of other Christians strengthened her spiritual walk before her unsaved husband and son, and the pastor’s messages were always thought provoking as well as uplifting.

  She felt a warmth steal over her heart as the carriage drew closer. As usual, Dan Johnson was at the reins, with Alexander sitting between him and their father. Catherine and Angeline were in the back.

  As Dan drew the carriage to a halt, Zack jumped out and gave Martha his hand. When she was seated facing Catherine and Angeline, Catherine squeezed Martha’s hand. “It is such a joy to see you with so much sparkle in your eyes, Martha, dear.”

  Martha chuckled gleefully. “Something I didn’t have all those times when you and Evelyn were trying to win me to the Lord. Living under the conviction of my lost condition, yet fearing what Finn would do if I got saved … I was one miserable person.”

  “Well, honey, those days of misery are over.”

  “Mm-hmm. Though Finn still isn’t saved, at least he never stands in my way of going to church. Not even on Sunday nights or Wednesday nights. I was thinking just a few minutes ago that it’s been over a year and a half since Ol’ Mose died and I came to you and Evelyn, and you led me to the Lord.”

  Catherine smiled. “You’ve grown so much in your Christian life since then. And you know that our family prays daily that Finn will come to the Lord, as well as Edward and his new wife.”

  Martha nodded. “I appreciate it more than I can express.”

  The carriage turned onto the road and headed toward Charleston.

  “Mrs. Colvin,” Angeline said, “have you heard that Priscilla and Craig are planning to become engaged soon?”

  “I knew they were quite serious about each other, but I hadn’t heard anything about an engagement. I’m so glad for Priscilla. Craig Hartman is such a fine young man … and you can tell he adores her.”

  “For sure! I know they’re going to be very happy. The Hartmans are wonderful Christians and have raised their son to walk with the Lord.”

  Martha set her soft eyes on Angeline. “What about you, dear? I’ve seen you talking to several young men at church since I’ve been going there, but I haven’t noticed you with one particular young man. Do you have a special young man in your life?”

  “No, ma’am. I haven’t found the right one yet.”

  Alexander turned in the seat and said, “It’s too late for my sister now, Mrs. Colvin. She’s an old maid at nineteen.”

  Angeline gave him a mock scowl. “I’m ahead of you, little brother. You’re just a year younger than I am, and you’ve had a grand total of two dates.”

  “That’s because I’m very picky about who I date.”

  Angeline giggled. “No, what it really means is the girls at church are picky, and they won’t go out with you. You didn’t tell Mrs. Colvin that the two who did go out with you were both blind.”

  Martha laughed as Alexander gave his sister a stiff look and turned back forward in the seat.

  Dan chuckled. “You’ll learn one of these days, Alexander, that you can’t get ahead of our sister. Best thing to do is keep quiet.”

  “I’ll get her one of these days,” he said with a grin.

  Angeline turned to Martha. “Anyway, Mrs. Colvin, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, I haven’t found the right young man yet. But I’m willing to wait for the Lord to bring him into my life.”

  Martha nodded. “That’s the wise way to look at it, Angeline. You want to make sure you get the right one.” She looked toward the driver and said, “Dan, are your plans for going to Texas coming together?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It began to look like the Lord was never going to give me the go sign, and I got pretty impatient. Sometimes the Lord makes us wait a lot longer for the things we want than we think He should. But when we let Him work it out, He always does it above and beyond what we ever imagined. He knew two years ago, when I was wanting to get to Texas so bad, that the perfect ranch for me was going to come up for sale in March of 1857.”

  “So it’s a closed deal?” Martha asked.

  “Only by my word and the word of the man who is selling it to me, but we both believe that a man’s word is his bond. So in that sense, it’s a closed deal. Of course, I sent him an agreed amount of earnest money to hold the ranch for me. But it won’t be a legally closed deal until the papers are signed and I pay him the rest of the money. The Lord really worked it out for me in beautiful style. I’m getting the ranch for a very good price.”

  “I’ve been to Texas twice to visit my husband’s uncle and aunt,” Martha said. “Exactly where is this ranch you are buying?”

  “Do you know where San Antonio is?”

  “Yes. Finn’s uncle and aunt live in Round Rock, just north of Austin. Uncle Wes and Aunt Bertha lived near San Antonio back in 1836 when the battle took place at the Alamo. They talk about it a lot.”

  “Well, that’s easy to understand, since it was the turning point in Texas history,” Dan said. “I’m looking forward to seeing the
Alamo, I’ll tell you that. Anyway, ma’am, the ranch I’m buying is about ten miles northwest of San Antonio. Rich grass country. The owner’s name is Hollis Jourdan. He’s a sixty-nine-year-old widower. He will leave me four cowhands who have been with the ranch for several years. They said they want to stay on with the new owner.”

  “I’m sure they will be a great help to you,” said Martha.

  “Oh yes. When the Lord works something out, He does it up right. From what I’m told, the area is all cattle ranches. You remember the Wickburgs, who sold their plantation here and moved to Texas to go into the cattle ranching business?”

  “Yes.”

  “Their ranch is near Austin. Bill is one of my closest friends.”

  “He’s the one I’m going to shoot when I see him!” Angeline said.

  Martha laughed. “For taking big brother away from you?”

  “That’s it.”

  “But, little sis, you’ll still have Alexander!” Dan said.

  She let out a big sigh and said, “Oh, joy bells!”

  Alexander grinned. “Since only a blind girl would marry me, and there aren’t any around Charleston, and since you’re going to be an old maid the rest of your life, you’ll always have me, Angeline.”

  She looked skyward and said, “Lord, help me!”

  “Dan,” Martha said, “you were telling me about Bill Wickburg.”

  “Oh yes. Bill and his father put me in touch with Hal Robards, who has a huge ranch a few miles due north of San Antonio. And he’s a Christian. It was Robards who put me in touch with Hollis Jourdan. The ranch has a little over five thousand acres, and from what Mr. Jourdan told me, it is thick with grass and has a nice creek running through it.”

  Dan guided the carriage into Charleston and headed down the street toward the church.

  “Sounds wonderful, Dan,” said Martha. “I’m so glad your big dream is about to come true. I know your family will miss you, but they also want you to be where God wants you.”

  Zack, who had been content to listen to the conversation up to now, said, “That’s for sure!”

  “So when do you plan to leave, Dan?” Martha asked.