“Let’s hope this one will be satisfactory so we won’t have to trade him off on a newer model.”
Time for the service to begin came, and Moody nodded at the song leader. They sang two songs, and Moody became more and more restless. Finally the front door creaked, and Moody stood up and said loudly, “Come right to the platform, Reverend! Your church is anxious to meet you.”
A few of the congregation, mostly the Winslows, resisted the temptation to swivel their heads as the new pastor walked down the aisle. Belle heard Mary Ann Peterson whisper, “My! He’s too good-looking to be a preacher!”
Pet leaned over to Belle. “Heaven help him if he’s not married! He’d probably make one maiden happy, and the rest hate him!”
Belle smiled and looked up as the minister passed her. He was wearing the customary black suit, and he was tall, but she couldn’t see his face. He kept his back to the congregation as he met Moody, conversing briefly.
Then he turned and every Winslow gasped. Davis Winslow!
“Did you know this, Sky?” Rebekah whispered.
“No!”
Moody looked at the congregation and said smoothly, “Since I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting our new pastor before now, I think it might be well if he introduced himself. This is Reverend Davis Winslow, and he tells me he is no stranger to some of you. Reverend, we welcome you to St. Andrew’s!”
Davis stepped to the platform and placed his large black Bible on the pulpit. Looking out over the congregation, he seemed to be evaluating them as carefully as they were weighing him.
Finally he said in a strong voice, “This is the most exciting moment of my life—and the most awkward! A friend of mine told me how he felt the first time he met his future wife’s parents. He said he was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs!”
A titter swept the congregation as Davis continued. Belle looked around to see that most of the church members seemed pleased, but she wasn’t. She couldn’t reconcile this man with the memory of the one who had kissed her, saying, “I care for you.” She desperately wanted to flee, but she was trapped.
“We’ll soon get to know each other better,” Davis said, “but since Mr. Moody asked that I introduce myself, I will do so. I am thirty years old, not married, and in good health.” This information quickened the interest of most women who had marriageable daughters, but he went on without a pause, “My parents are Mr. and Mrs. Robert Winslow of Washington, where my father is a representative in the Congress of the United States. Some of you may remember when I visited Richmond with my grandfather some years ago.”
More whispers.
“Some of you are also remembering that my brother Lowell came to this city to testify on behalf of Thad Novak—who I see is here this morning.”
Davis’s eyes rested on the Winslows. Belle felt the weight of his glance. For a moment he hesitated before adding, “It is sometimes dangerous for a minister to have members of his family in his church, but my connection with the Winslows is distant. Sky, of course, is part of the Southern branch of the Winslows—while my own family has made its home in the north for many years.”
Several of the church members who had looked on the new pastor with some satisfaction, now scrutinized him more closely. Smiles faded, and Davis lifted his chin, saying in a firm voice, “Yes, I am from the North—and as some of you know, I served as an officer in the United States Army.”
A disturbance in the back interrupted Davis. Belle saw Hiram Coggins moving out of his pew, herding his wife and two children ahead of him. His face was red with anger as he turned to face Davis. “I fought you from Bull Run to Five Forks, Yankee—and I’ll never darken the door of this church again until the bishop gets enough sense to send us a man of our own kind!” He turned and raked the congregation with his eyes, adding, “And the rest of you ought to leave like me and my family! You, Henry—you lost two boys and a sonin-law to the bluebellies! You gonna sit there and listen to a man who maybe killed them?”
Henry Cooper was a small man who rarely spoke in public. The church waited with bated breath. Would he follow Cog-gins? Henry had no sons left to carry on his name, and his wife was past childbearing age. His eyes met those of Davis. The new pastor did not flinch. A silence fell across the room, and everyone realized that the fate of the young minister lay in Henry’s hands. Almost every family had lost some relation to the war—a son, a brother, a father—and the bitterness of four years of struggle hung heavily in the room.
Finally Cooper shifted his eyes to Hiram Coggins and in a mild voice said, “Hiram, my sons are gone. Nothing can bring them back. But I’ve got three girls, and I aim to do my best for them—and for this church.” He gave Davis another quick evaluation and nodded, “The bishop’s not a fool, Hiram. He knew what this man would be facing when he sent him—and he’s my pastor until he proves himself unfit.”
Coggins glared with outrage, whirled, and screamed, “Be a fool if you want! I refuse!” He stalked out, and two other families followed, giving Davis a withering look as they left.
Davis bowed his head for one moment. When he raised it, he spoke quietly to Henry Cooper. “Thank you, sir. I have some idea of what that cost you.” Then he stepped out from behind the pulpit and came to the edge of the platform. There was an assurance in his manner that in no way resembled the young man who had visited the Winslows years earlier; and as he spoke, Sky measured him with fresh interest.
“You have been wondering why the bishop waited so long to send you a pastor. When he comes, he will no doubt inform you. I can tell you what he told me—that it was the most difficult choice he’s ever made. Why send a Yankee, a former officer in the United States Army to pastor a people who have just fought a bitter war against the government?” A smile creased Davis’s face, and it made him look younger. “That was exactly what I asked him. He had narrowed the choices to me and a man from South Carolina—a former chaplain in the Army of Northern Virginia. When he said he was sending me to Richmond, I begged him to choose the other minister!”
Not a sound was heard. Every eye was fixed on Davis. “He told me God had directed him in the matter, and that was that. But we discussed it at length, and I think I know what was in his heart. There are hard times ahead for the South—and he believes that only as the wounds of war are healed will there be hope for her people.”
He searched their faces, and his voice took on a different tone. “I didn’t want to come to this church. I have had no experience. I am a novice and will have to continue my biblical studies as I pastor the church. Frankly, I am not wise enough to pastor a church of this size; it would have been my desire to go to a small church for an apprenticeship. But the bishop persuaded me, believing there was something I could do here, and I will do my best. Some of you are already convinced I will fail—but I want to make you one promise. While I am your pastor, I will preach the truth as I hold it, and I will serve you as faithfully as I can. But if at the end of six months, a majority of the membership feels I should step down, I will do so.”
Jaws dropped in surprise, and he smiled. “That’s not the Methodist way, but I made it clear to the bishop it would have to be, and he agreed.” Then he said, “Now I am introduced to you. You will introduce yourselves to me very soon, and as we serve the Lord Jesus Christ together, it is my prayer that our judgments of one another will not be whether we wore a blue or a gray uniform—but whether we manifest the simple love of the Savior of the world! In the time that is left, turn in your Bibles to the Gospel of Mark, chapter eleven, verse twenty-two.”
He opened his Bible and read, “ ‘Have faith in God.’ “ He continued with several more verses, and then Belle heard him say, “ ‘If you have ought against any . . . ‘ “ Startled, she looked up to find his eyes fixed on her—and she knew he was thinking of the afternoon Chaplain Eubanks had preached on the same text at Chimborazo. It was that night Lonnie had died, and the memory of how Davis had held her in his arms and comforted her leape
d into her mind. Her face flushed, and she dropped her head, unable to hold his gaze.
His sermon was brief, using scripture after scripture, illustrating the need for forgiveness. To nourish unforgiveness and hatred, he told them, would lead not only to rejection at the judgment seat of God but destruction to the person himself here, in this life. The person harboring the bitterness would be more harmed than the one to whom it was directed.
He closed his Bible and said quietly, but with an earnestness that shone in his eyes, “I know what bitterness and unforgiveness can do to a person—for it came very close to destroying me. I hated someone with such violence that it ate away everything good in me—and if Jesus Christ had not come in to save me and take away that hatred, I would probably be in hell right this minute. But He can heal the brokenhearted. He can set the captives free. And it is to that power, which He alone has, that I must look—and everyone in this church if we are to face the difficult days ahead.”
Davis concluded with a simple prayer, and dismissed the congregation. Many left without coming to meet Davis as he stood at the front of the church, while others, including the Winslows, stayed to welcome him.
Belle desperately wished she could avoid him but realized she would no doubt be seeing him often.
“Got work for you, Preacher,” Thad said after greeting Davis. “Pet and I are getting married next Friday afternoon at Belle Maison. Sure am glad you got here! I was beginning to think we’d have to import a Baptist!”
Davis smiled. “Guess it’ll be a first time for all three of us. I’ll probably be more nervous than the bride.”
“I’m glad you’re our pastor, Reverend Winslow,” Pet enthused. “I know we’re going to have a revival in the church. You wait and see!”
Sky thrust out his hand as he and Rebekah reached Davis. “I’m glad to see you—but you really gave me a jolt. Feels kinda strange having a relative as a pastor.”
“You know too much about us,” Rebekah added, taking his hand.
“And you about me,” Davis responded, remembering when she had confronted him with his true identity. Then he nodded to Belle, who was hanging back, and said, “My grandfather will be happy to hear you’re in my church, Mrs. Wickham. He thinks highly of you.”
As always any reference to her time in Washington brought a flash of guilt, but she said only, “How is he?”
“Very well. He’ll be coming to Richmond—or so he says. I’ll be petrified to preach with him here!”
“He’s very proud of you, I’m sure,” Belle commented. “I remember what great friends you are.”
Pet took Belle’s arm and said eagerly, “Brother Winslow, Belle is helping me with the wedding plans. You two will have to get together and work it all out.”
Davis caught Belle’s look of doubt, and replied, “I’m afraid that responsibility will have to be Mrs. Wickham’s. Just getting through the ceremony will take all my energy.”
Relieved, Belle said simply, “It’ll be a beautiful wedding.”
Asa Moody had been visiting with some of the people and now came to Davis. “You’ll have dinner with us, Reverend, won’t you? We’ve got a lot to go over.”
****
Davis was thankful for the approaching wedding, for it kept him busy—and gave him breathing space. He was well aware that not only the members of his own church but nearly all of Richmond were discussing the bishop’s strange choice. Davis met pastors of other churches, most of whom could not conceal the doubt in their eyes. Two ministers refused to speak to him, and five families of St. Andrew’s resigned.
“Don’t worry about them, Preacher,” Moody encouraged. “They’re soreheads and would only cause trouble. We’re better off without them.” Davis saw that the banker viewed the church members in much the same way he did his customers. He had the same careful way of looking at a man and estimating how much could be squeezed from him. But the man was cheerful, and being a Yankee himself he was delighted that Winslow had come.
Davis met with Belle at the Winslow home for dinner, at Sky’s insistence, the following Thursday night. But before their meeting, Rebekah approached him as he was standing at the window in the parlor, waiting for Belle and Pet to come downstairs.
She smiled faintly and asked, “How do I address you? As Mr. Winslow . . . or Reverend Winslow . . . or as Lieutenant Owen Morgan?”
A sadness flashed in his eyes at her query. “I can’t believe that somebody hasn’t actually seen through my masquerade, Rebekah. Are they all blind?”
“I think we see what we expect,” she replied. “Nobody thought about the overweight, smooth-shaven Davis Winslow when they looked at Owen Morgan. They saw a man skinny as a rail with gaunt cheeks and a bushy beard. Now when we look at you, we see an older version of the young man who was here a couple of years ago. You’ve put on weight, the beard is gone, and your whole manner is different from what we saw when we looked at Owen Morgan.”
“It was wrong,” he said. “I still feel somehow that it wasn’t right to deceive all of you.”
“Remember Joseph in the Bible, Davis? How his brothers feared him after he revealed himself to them? They’d sold him for a slave—and their lives were in his hands. He said, ‘You thought evil against me, but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.’ If you’d died in Libby, what would have happened when that mob came? I think they’d have burned it down—with the loss of many lives.”
“I’m glad you can look at it in that light.” He hesitated, then said, “I feel very—strange is the word, I guess—when I’m around Belle.”
“What else do you feel about her, Davis?” Rebekah asked, her eyes fixed on him.
“I—I think you know,” he murmured. “I love her. But she feels nothing for me.”
“Don’t give up. She’s been very hurt.”
“I know. But it’s going to take a miracle.”
“We need a sackful of miracles, don’t we, Pastor Winslow?” Rebekah ticked them off on her fingers. “We’re going to lose this place if God doesn’t do something about the mortgage. You’re going to be ousted from St. Andrew’s if about 200 people don’t learn to accept a Yankee as their pastor, and Belle is going to dry up if she doesn’t learn to accept herself.”
Davis opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Pet and Belle entered. “Oh, Davis!” Pet cried, rushing in, “I’ve decided I can’t call you ‘Reverend’—except when others are around. After all, we are cousins, aren’t we?”
“I suppose we’re sort of fifth cousins, or something like that. My grandfather will be happy to inform you when he comes. First names are better, I think. Do you agree, Mrs. Wickham?”
“Of course.” Belle gave him an odd look that Rebekah didn’t miss, then asked, “Shall we go over the details of the wedding?”
Though Davis had declined at first to assist in the planning stage, the three spent an hour and a half working on details. In the midst of their discussion, Rebekah stuck her head in the door and called out, “Pet, come help me set the table.”
Pet was happy to escape, saying, “You two will have to do the rest. Besides, Belle knows what I want.”
Belle looked fondly at her sister’s retreating form. “She’s so excited about getting married. It’s funny, she never cared at all for parties or dresses—like the rest of us did.” She turned back to Davis, and her expression changed. “I feel so utterly—confused! When I saw you in church last Sunday, I wanted to die.”
“I knew it would be hard on you, Belle,” Davis replied. They were sitting opposite each other on overstuffed chairs. As always, her delicate, flawless beauty had a powerful effect on him, but he said only, “Are you angry, Belle—because I came?”
“N-no.” She hesitated, then added, “But for some reason, I’m afraid, Davis. It’s like living around a bomb that might go off any second!”
“Yes, I know the feeling,” he said ironically. “But I sense that it won’t be more than six months.”<
br />
Startled, her eyes opened wide. “Why, I didn’t know you were that sure to fail!”
“Like your mother says, Belle, we need a whole bunch of miracles.”
“One happened when you saved the hospital,” she responded. Her eyes sparkled at the thought. “I’ll never forget how you came charging down the street into that mob!”
Davis smiled at her expression. “I wish everything were as simple. Not too hard to fight that kind of battle. Others aren’t so easy.”
She dropped her eyes, feeling uncomfortable. She knew he referred to the two of them. Finally she excused herself. “I’d better help Mother and Pet.”
Suppertime was delightful, and Davis felt accepted by the Winslows. He saw no malice in anyone—except perhaps Beau Beauchamp, who was a guest that night. During the meal he maintained an uncharacteristic silence, but after dinner when the men met in the parlor, he began to question Davis about the intentions of the North.
“I hear that Congress is going to demand that ninety percent of the population of any state will have to sign loyalty oaths before the state will be readmitted,” Beau said. “And it’s common knowledge that many powerful men want to establish a military rule over us.”
“I haven’t heard anything like that, Mr. Beauchamp,” Davis replied. “I think it will depend on how the South behaves.”
“We’ve got to obey—or take the consequences?” Beau shot back. “They’ll strip us bare if we sit around with our hands in our pockets.”
Sky tried to head off the argument he saw coming. “Beau, we have to be patient. We have friends in the government. It won’t be easy, but for the next few years, we need to work at rebuilding our state.”
Beau would not be pacified, and rose hastily, saying, “Thank you for the evening. I’ll be at the wedding, Thad.”
“Doesn’t look as if he’ll calm down, does it?” Tom remarked as Beau walked out. “And he’s got lots of company.”
“Somebody has to fight for the South,” Dan defended heatedly. His cheeks were flushed, and he stared around defiantly, adding, “I’m going to join the White Knights myself!”
The Dixie Widow Page 28
