Secrets of the Heart

by Al Lacy

  There was the sound of rapid footfalls, then Hank came into view. “Tom! Hilda Jensen is outside, all upset. She wants to see you. She’s got Caleb with her.”

  “Is something wrong with Loretta?” Tom asked.

  “I don’t know. Hilda only said she needed to see you in a hurry.”

  Tom turned to the new men. “You guys go ahead. Practice your swing, Stan. You help him, Gerald. I’ll be back when I can.”

  When Tom emerged from the mouth of the mine, Caleb ran toward him, crying, “Daddy, Mommy’s real sick!”

  Tom gathered his son up in his arms and looked at Hilda’s pallid face.

  “It’s the baby, Mr. Harned,” she said. “The baby’s comin’! Loretta’s in labor, but she’s losing blood.”

  A cold dread seized Tom. “Is the doctor at the house?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s got his nurse with him.”

  Tom set Caleb on the ground. “Son, Hilda will take you home.”

  With that, he bolted toward town.

  Tom bounded onto his front porch, puffing from exertion, and rushed through the door.

  Dr. Frank Nelsons nurse, Edna Roberts, had heard him coming, and was waiting for him at the bedroom door. The look on her face terrified him.

  “Mr. Harned,” she said, taking a step toward him, “Dr. Nelson is doing everything he can, but—”

  Tom rushed past her into the bedroom.

  The doctor glanced up as Tom drew near the bed. “I’m doing what I can, Tom,” he said, the seriousness of the situation evident on his face.

  Loretta’s face had a gray pallor, and deep lines of pain were etched on her lovely features. Her hair was matted to her forehead with sweat. Suddenly she gasped for breath, her eyes pinching shut. The labor pains were coming so close together that she had no time to rest between contractions.

  Tom took her hand in his and tried to loosen her grip on the bedsheet. “Honey, I’m here.”

  Loretta opened her pain-dulled eyes and gave him a weak, shaky smile.

  “Its going to be all right, honey,” Tom said, pushing a lock of hair off her damp forehead. He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  Loretta jerked and moaned as another spasm of pain hit her and more blood flowed.

  Dr. Nelson shook his head and glanced at his nurse.

  Footsteps thumped on the parlor floor, and they heard Hilda’s voice telling Caleb he couldn’t go into the bedroom.

  Tom leaned close to Loretta’s ear and said, “I’ll be right back.”

  He was back in just a few moments and said to Loretta, “I sent Hilda to get Pastor Humbert. I want him to pray for you.”

  Loretta nodded as her body jerked under the pain of another contraction.

  Less than twenty minutes had passed when Hilda appeared at the bedroom door and said, “Pastor and Mrs. Humbert are here.”

  Tom hurried to the parlor and was met by Caleb, who flung himself at his father and clung to him. As he gripped his little boy’s hand in his own, Tom looked at the pastor and said, “Thank you for coming, Pastor…Laurie.”

  “How is she doing?” Humbert asked.

  Tom explained Loretta’s condition as best he could, telling them she had lost two previous children in miscarriage. “Please pray for her, Pastor,” Tom pleaded, his face pinched with anxiety. “I’ve got to get back to her.”

  Tom returned to Loretta’s bedside and held her hand. She was exhausted, both from the constant hard contractions and the blood loss.

  “The baby’s coming,” said Dr. Nelson. “Push, Loretta! Push!”

  Loretta summoned every ounce of strength she could muster and gave one final push.

  The doctor handed the tiny, limp form to Edna without a word, then glanced at Tom as she hurried away with the baby.

  “I don’t hear the baby crying,” Loretta said weakly.

  Dr. Nelson remained silent as he worked to stop the hemorrhaging.

  Tom gazed into his wife’s pain-darkened eyes and could barely say the words. “Honey, the baby’s…the baby’s dead.”

  The exhausted mother closed her eyes and ejected a heartrending cry.

  Before Tom could say anything more, she reached up a shaky hand and caressed his cheek, saying in a cracked whisper, “I…love…you.” Then her hand fell limply to the bed, and she stopped breathing.

  “No!” Tom lifted her in his arms. “No! No! No, God! No! Don’t take her from me! Please don’t take her from me!” Tom held Loretta’s lifeless body and sobbed.

  The Humberts stood at the bedroom door while Hilda kept Caleb in the parlor.

  Dr. Nelson let Tom stay with Loretta a few minutes, then laid a hand on his shoulder. “Come, Tom. Pastor Humbert will take you to Caleb.”

  The pastor put an arm around Toms shoulders and guided him to the parlor. Tom sat numbly on the sofa with Caleb in his arms, and the two of them wept together.

  Nurse Roberts had washed the baby and placed it in a soft pink blanket. She then cleaned up Loretta and placed a clean sheet over her body, leaving the face exposed. She waited until Tom and Caleb’s weeping had subsided, then called to Tom from the bedroom door. “Mr. Harned, would you come here a moment?”

  When Tom entered the bedroom, the doctor was putting his instruments into his medical bag, and Edna was holding the bundle. She showed it to Tom, saying softly, “Its a girl, Mr. Harned. She’s perfect in every way, but she never drew a breath.”

  “I don’t want to look at her,” Tom said, closing his eyes.

  Dr. Nelson paused in his work and said, “Mr. Harned, I know from many years of experience in handling miscarriages at this stage that you’ll regret it one day if you don’t look at your baby.”

  Tom slowly reached trembling hands to gather the precious bundle into his arms. He looked at his baby daughter through a mist of tears and studied her for a long moment, then placed her beside Loretta and kissed them both, saying, “She looks like you, darlin.”

  Dr. Nelson was now washing his hands in a basin at the dresser. “I’m sorry, Tom,” he said. “I did everything I could.”

  “I know that, Doc.”

  On returning to the parlor, Tom looked at the preacher and said, “Pastor Humbert, I don’t understand. You prayed, but God still took my wife and baby daughter. Why did He do this? I need Loretta, and so does Caleb.”

  “Tom,” Humbert said, his voice compassionate, “I know you may be tempted to be angry at God, but—”

  “Well, I am angry at God!” Tom blurted out, breaking into tears once again. “He could have spared Loretta and my little girl, but He didn’t! I don’t want anything to do with Him!”

  Bruce Humbert laid a hand on the grieving man’s shoulder and said, “Tom, I’ll do anything I can for you. And when your emotions have settled down, we can talk some more about it.”

  Tom reached for Caleb, then looked up at the preacher. “I appreciate you and Laurie coming when I sent for you. Would you conduct the funeral for me?”

  “Of course. I will be honored to do so.”

  Two days later, Loretta and the baby were buried in the same coffin, with Loretta’s little girl folded in her arms.

  Most of the miners and other people of the town were at the graveside to pay their respects. Hank and Donna Mitchell stood with Tom and Caleb, along with Laurie Humbert.

  After the service Henry Comstock was first to reach Tom and offer his condolences. “I want you to take a week off with full pay,” he said.

  Tom thanked him, saying he would only take a couple of days.

  When everyone had passed by Tom and Caleb, expressing their sympathy, Bruce and Laurie Humbert and Hank and Donna Mitchell asked if there was anything they could do for them.

  Tom shook his head. “Thank you, all of you, but Caleb and I will be fine.” His eyes belied his words.

  “Tom,” Pastor Humbert said, “could I come by the house sometime soon and talk to you?”

  “You’re always welcome, Pastor, but preaching to me isn’t going to do any good.”r />
  Humbert smiled. “I won’t preach to you. I just want to help you adjust to your loss if I can.”

  Tom nodded. “Thank you for caring, Pastor.”

  The next day while Caleb was in school, Tom went to Hilda Jensen’s house and asked if she could keep Caleb in the afternoons, and all day Saturdays. He would pay her well.

  “Oh, Tom, I wish I could do it, but I’m feeling poorly these days. I don’t have the energy I used to. In fact, I hate to tell you at a time like this, but I don’t think I can even clean for you and do the washing. I’m so sorry, Tom.”

  Tom kindly told her he understood and thanked her that she had worked for him so faithfully till Loretta’s death.

  He let himself out Hilda’s front door and stood on the porch a minute, a feeling of panic washing over him. He knew he wasn’t much of a cook, but he figured he could learn with practice, and he and Caleb would get by. But the thought of taking care of the house and doing the laundry, along with everything else it took to care for a home, seemed overwhelming. And who could he get to watch over Caleb when he was working at the mine six days a week? He mentally straightened his shoulders and vowed to be the best father and mother to Caleb that he could be.

  Tom found it heart-wrenching to watch Caleb’s grief. The boy often sat and just stared into space, and he had told Tom that he dreamed about his mother at night and heard her calling him her little angel boy. He was trying hard to accept the loss of his mother and to be brave about it, but tears often coursed down his cheeks.

  Tom waited outside the school that afternoon when the teacher rang the bell and the children poured out the door. Caleb ran into his father’s arms and clung to him.

  That evening, father and son were washing and drying dishes after supper when they heard footsteps on the front porch and a knock at the door.

  Still carrying a dish towel, Tom opened the door to see Hank and Donna Mitchell.

  “Hello, Hank…Donna,” he said. “Come in.”

  They hugged Caleb, then Hank said, “We just came by to see how you two are doing. Is there anything we can do for you?”

  “Don’t think so,” Tom said. “We’re plugging along. I’ve got to find someone to take care of Caleb after school in the afternoons, and all day on Saturdays. I thought Hilda Jensen might be able to do it, but her health is getting pretty bad.”

  “I wish there was something I could do, Tom,” Donna said, “but my job makes it impossible.”

  “I understand,” Tom said. “I know you’d help if you could. I’m going to talk to some people around town tomorrow and see if I can find somebody who’ll take care of him.”

  “How about we just pray about it right now, Tom?” Hank said.

  “Well, uh…sure, that’s fine.”

  Hank led in prayer, asking the Lord to provide someone to watch over Caleb when his dad was at work. He also weaved the gospel into his prayer.

  When Hank had spoken the amen, Tom grinned at his friend and said, “You’re a persistent cuss, Hank. Preach to me while you pray, eh?”

  “I’m just concerned for you, Tom. You already know that.”

  “Mm-hmm. Well, I’m doing fine, Hank.”

  “You’d do a lot better if you’d open your heart to Jesus. Knowing Him and having Him in control of your life is the most wonderful thing in this world.”

  Tom quickly asked how things had gone at the mine that day, and soon the Mitchells told Tom and Caleb good-night.

  The next day, Tom went around town trying to find someone who could take care of Caleb, but to no avail. In the afternoon, as he headed toward the school to meet the boy, he told himself the only thing he could do was have Caleb come to the mine after school and sit there till the workday was over. Surely Mr. Comstock would understand.

  That evening, father and son had finished cleaning up the kitchen after supper and were about to sit down in the parlor when Pastor and Mrs. Humbert knocked on the door.

  “Hello, Tom,” said the preacher. “Laurie and I have had you and Caleb on our hearts, so we thought we’d come by and see how you’re doing.”

  Tom welcomed them in and invited them to sit down.

  When Laurie turned to greet the blond little boy, she saw tears in his eyes. “Caleb, you’re crying.”

  Tom laid a hand on top of his head. “What is it, son?”

  The child’s lips quivered as he said, “When I saw Mrs. Humbert I thought of my mommy.”

  Laurie left the overstuffed chair and took the boy in her arms. “Come over here and sit with me, Caleb,” she said softly.

  Tom and the pastor quietly watched as Laurie held the boy, speaking soothing words to him. Caleb clung to her, sniffling, and laid his head against her shoulder. Soon Laurie stopped talking and just held Caleb close.

  “Tom,” the preacher said, “we came by to offer any help we might be able to give, and to make a special offer where we know we can help.”

  “I know,” Tom said, nodding. “You can help me get saved.”

  “Yes, we could if you’d let us. But I promised you I wouldn’t preach to you when we came by the last time, and I’ll keep my promise.”

  Tom looked relieved.

  “Tom,” Humbert said kindly, “the most important thing in your life is to be ready for eternity. But I will not attempt to shove salvation down your throat. However, Laurie has something she wants to say to you.”

  “I was talking to Hilda Jensen today, Tom,” Laurie said, keeping her arms wrapped around Caleb. “She told me you were needing someone to take care of Caleb after school and on Saturdays. And of course when school lets out you’ll need someone to take care of him six days a week.”

  Tom nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve asked people all over town for help, and there just isn’t anybody who can do it. So I figure till school’s out, I’ll have him come to the mine and stay in the office. I have to ask Mr. Comstock, but I think he’ll go for it. Saturdays will be something else. I might just have to ask Mr. Comstock to give me Saturdays off.”

  “How about letting me take care of Caleb?” Laurie asked.

  “You mean it?”

  “Yes. I…ah…”

  “Is there a problem?” Tom said. “I’ll be glad to pay you.”

  “Oh, no! I won’t accept money for doing it!”

  “Laurie hesitates because we just found out she’s going to have a baby,” said Humbert. “She would only be able to watch over Caleb until…when, honey?”

  “I could take care of Caleb beginning tomorrow, Tom, and at least through the summer. You would have to find someone else by September.”

  Relief washed over the young widower, and it was his turn to vent his emotions through tears. After a few moments he wiped his cheeks and said, “This would give me some time to make other arrangements. Thank you so much. I appreciate this more than I can say!” Then to Caleb, “Son, would you like to stay with Mrs. Humbert after school and on Saturdays—and all day, six days a week, when school’s out?”

  Caleb smiled broadly for the first time since his mother had died. “Oh, yes, Daddy! I sure would!”

  “Then it’s a deal!” Laurie said, hugging Caleb tight. “We’ll start tomorrow!”

  “I’d feel better if you’d let me pay you,” Tom said.

  “Absolutely not,” Laurie replied, shaking her head.

  “I wish I could tell you how much this means to me.”

  “I believe I know,” Laurie said with a smile.

  “Daddy!” Caleb said. “God answered Uncle Hank’s prayer, didn’t he?”

  Tom’s face tinted. “Why…uh…yes, He did, son. He sure did.” Tom explained to the Humberts that Hank and Donna had come by the house the night before, and Hank had prayed for someone to take care of Caleb.

  “Isn’t God good?” Laurie said.

  Tom smiled weakly.

  “Tom, how are you coping with your loss?” the preacher asked.

  “I’m just numb, Pastor. I’m still puzzled as to why God took Loretta and the b
aby.”

  As he heard the trace of bitterness in Toms voice, Bruce Humbert silently asked the Lord to show him the best way to win this man to Jesus.

  Kathleen O’Malley moved out of the house in the upper-middle-class district and rented a cheap apartment near downtown. She had wanted to take a room again at Hattie Murphy’s boardinghouse, but all the rooms were occupied.

  Kathleen’s apartment was on the bottom floor at the back of the apartment building. There was a small backyard containing an old shed next to the alley. The apartment consisted of two dreary rooms—a parlor and bedroom combined, and a small kitchen. There was only one window, and it was covered with grime and a faded limp curtain.

  Kathleen had taken a few pieces of furniture from the house, and in order to have a little more money she had sold the rest of it to a secondhand store. She was so discouraged she didn’t care where she lived or how it looked.

  Her first effort to find work was in the neighborhood where her in-laws lived, but the Stallworths had blackballed her, and she could find no work.

  Since people in the lower-class neighborhoods did their own housecleaning, she decided to take in washing and ironing and do sewing.

  She talked to her landlord and was given permission to use the old shed out back as a laundry room but was told she would have to supply her own coal for heating water on an old stove in the shack.

  Kathleen trudged from house to house in the neighborhood where she and Peter had lived, and in neighborhoods not quite as nice. For three days she returned to her drab apartment with no jobs. On the fourth day, she was given washing and ironing jobs by two people, and by the time she had knocked on doors for a week, she was able to pick up enough work to produce a meager income.

  The young widow did not touch the three hundred dollars she had in the bank. She hoped to somehow add to it until she had enough money to hire a lawyer and get Meggie back.

  Every night Kathleen cried herself to sleep, missing her little daughter and mourning for Peter. A deep bitterness toward John and Maria Stallworth filled her heart. This bitterness spilled over into her attitude toward God and life in general. She felt that God had picked her out to torment her. The one thing that kept Kathleen going was her vow to one day take the Stallworths to court over Meggie, and she hoped to find a way to make them pay for their wicked deeds.