Hope Rekindled

by Tracie Peterson

  “Mama Yoonell?” a faint voice questioned from the doorway.

  Euphanel bounded out of bed as if it were afire. “What’s wrong?” she asked, finding Jonah standing in the hall.

  “Emma’s crying,” he told her. “I think she needs you.” His voice trembled as if he, too, might start in with tears.

  “Let me get my robe.” She hurried back to the end of the bed as quietly as she could. Arjan’s steady snoring let her know she’d not disturbed his sleep.

  Making her way back into the hall, Euphanel pulled on her cotton robe and tied the sash. Jonah looked at her and motioned to her head. “You sure got pretty hair, Mama Yoonell.”

  She smiled. “Why, thank you, Jonah. What a kind thing to say. I’ll bet your mama had pretty hair, too.”

  “It was real long. She would braid it and wrap it around her head sometimes. I liked it that way.” His voice dropped. “I don’t like to think about her. It makes me sad.”

  “Well, that’s all right. I’m sure that God understands how you feel.”

  “God? He knows how I feel?”

  Euphanel heard the longing in his voice. “He truly does, Jonah. He loves you. He knows that you’re sad to lose your mama. He knows each tear you cry.”

  “And Emma?”

  Euphanel paused as they reached the upstairs. “God knows how each of you feels. He wants you to remember that you are never alone. He is with you always.”

  “Truly?”

  She smiled. “Truly.”

  Jonah surprised her by wrapping his arms around her legs. “I love you, Mama Yoonell.”

  Her heart swelled with joy. “I love you, Jonah. I love you very much.”

  Zed. G.W.” Bertram Wallace extended his hand and took a seat opposite the two men. “Thanks for the invitation to breakfast. Seems like a long time since I’ve seen you, Zed. It’ll be good to catch up.”

  G.W. motioned to the table. “We knew that you’d want coffee, but they have two specials and we didn’t know what you’d like to eat.”

  “Hello, Bert,” the middle-aged waitress said as she brought platter-sized plates of food to Zed and G.W. “You want the regular?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning. “Cheesy grits and ham.”

  “Comin’ right up.” She looked to G.W. and Zed. “And do you gentlemen have everything you need?”

  G.W. looked at the mound of scrambled eggs, potatoes, and bacon. “Yes, ma’am. I reckon we’ve got enough and then some.”

  “That’s for sure,” Zed said, digging into the pile of fluffy eggs.

  She wasn’t gone but a few minutes before returning with another large plate for Bert. “I had Cook give you a nice thick slice of ham.”

  “You’re mighty good to me, Mabel.” He gave his coffee a sample. “Strong . . . just the way I like it.”

  Mabel smiled. “You boys let me know if you need anything. I’m gonna go clean up a couple of tables.”

  G.W. glanced across the room. Several of the tables were in need of her attention. He figured it would give them plenty of time to talk without interruption.

  “Zed, I heard what Albright has been up to,” Bert began. “Your son told me he plans on buyin’ you out.”

  “You can’t exactly call it ‘buying him out,’ ” G.W. interjected. “More like stealin’ him blind.”

  “Do tell.” Bert sliced into the ham. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

  Zed nodded. “I’m much obliged to you for listenin’.”

  Bert listened patiently, and G.W. focused on his food. He knew Zed was proud, and begging a job wasn’t easy for him. G.W. finished his coffee and lifted the cup to motion to Mabel. She was there without a word, filling mugs and scanning the table like a watchful mother. Seeing nothing amiss, she moved on.

  “Seems like there ought to be a law against what he’s doing,” Bert said, shaking his head. “Have you signed any papers yet?”

  “No, but it won’t be long. Albright plans to have his father-in-law handle the matter in Houston and then bring the papers back to Perkinsville once everything is finalized,” G.W. declared. “We’ve got good lawyers lookin’ into it, but apparently Albright’s put money in the right hands. So far he’s managed to get folks doin’ things his way.”

  “I’m mighty tired of them Easterners comin’ in here, makin’ changes,” Bert growled. “I’ve seen it happen more times than I care to say. You know the old Carreston cotton plantation northeast of here?” The men nodded in unison and Bert continued. “Easterners bought ’em out and ruined the place. It’s happened all across the South—I don’t reckon I should be surprised by your news.”

  “You can see why I brought him here,” G.W. said, lowering his voice. “You were good to help us in our time of trouble. We just wondered if you could recommend someone who might hire Zed on for a time.”

  “You’re lookin’ for a job?” Bert asked in surprise. “Well, I’ll be. This must be what my wife would call one of them fortuitous moments.”

  G.W. shook his head. “How so?”

  “My mill foreman up and quit yesterday. I’ve been tryin’ to figure out who to put in his place. Zed, the job is yours for as long as you want it.”

  Zed reached out his hand. “I’ll take it.”

  “We can discuss the particulars over at the mill,” Bert said, pushing back his plate. “Why don’t you come on over with me, and I’ll show you around.”

  “Thank you kindly, Bert.” Zed shook his head. “Don’t know what I’d’ve done otherwise. I haven’t even told the boys yet. They knew things were bad—just didn’t know I’d gone and lost their inheritance.”

  “Things have a way of workin’ out,” Bert said as he got to his feet. “Breakfast is on me, boys.” He fished out several coins. “Come on now. Let’s make us a plan.”

  “Father,” Jael said, holding out a recently delivered telegram. “Deborah’s wedding has been moved up to this Saturday. I must be there. I can’t allow Stuart to force me to stay here in Houston when my dearest friend is getting married.”

  “I will accompany you,” he said, looking over the message. “I have some business to discuss with Stuart, and I’m sure he wouldn’t like you being left alone in the city anyway. If the wedding is Saturday, we would be wise to get up there as soon as possible.”

  “The housekeeper can have me packed up in twenty minutes,” Jael said with a smile. “Can your butler do the same for you?”

  Her father seemed more than a little amused. “I’m sure he can.” He put the telegram aside and rose. “I’ll send the driver around to the train station to see when the next train will be heading north.”

  Jael wasted little time making her way upstairs. Her father’s house wasn’t all that big, though there was certainly enough room for the two of them. She felt a sense of relief knowing Father would accompany her to Perkinsville; she had grown quite close to him since her arrival in Houston. They had talked about the past—about her sisters and the death of their mother. Jael had never known her father to be so free with his thoughts, and it truly blessed her to hear his heart. It blessed her even more to have learned the week prior that she was not with child. There was nothing holding her back from doing what needed to be done.

  “Mrs. Lee,” Jael called, spying the woman dusting at the end of the upstairs hall, “I need your assistance.”

  “Yes, Miz Albright?” the sturdily-built woman asked.

  “Father and I are traveling to Perkinsville as soon as he can arrange passage. My dear friend is getting married on Saturday,” Jael explained. “I’ll need for you to help me pack.”

  The woman put her dusting rag in her apron pocket. Following Jael into the bedroom, Mrs. Lee went to the window and raised the sash. “It’s going to be another hot day,” she said, as if Jael had asked after her actions. “The weather will most likely make things miserable for travel.”

  “I won’t take a great deal with me,” Jael said, trying to think through her plan. She would love nothing mo
re than to tell Stuart she was leaving him, but she didn’t want to ruin Deborah’s wedding. It would be bad enough to have her sulking husband at her side during the wedding. Of course, he might yield and allow Jael to be accompanied by her father. That would be much better.

  Mrs. Lee opened the armoire, then went to the dresser. “I’d advise you take only your lightest gowns. The cottons and muslins will serve you better than silk. The silks tend not to breathe as well.”

  “That’s quite true.” Jael began sorting through the dresses. “Of course, I can’t wear cotton to the wedding. I shall have to take at least one silk gown.”

  Just then, the butler appeared with Jael’s trunk. “Mr. Longstreet said you would have need of this.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mr. Adams.” The man was older than her father, yet seemed to have the strength of someone half his age. He placed the trunk at the foot of the bed and straightened. “I must now help your father to pack, but should you need anything, simply send Mrs. Lee to find me.”

  Jael nodded. Adams had been with her father for over twenty years. The two had a wonderful relationship that sometimes mimicked father and son, with Adams offering her father advice or comfort. Other times, they seemed like two friends. Never did they really appear as employee and employer.

  Mrs. Lee came to the armoire. “You look lovely in blue, Miz Albright. It goes so nice with your red hair. I knew a redheaded woman who attended our church long ago. She would never wear any color but brown. Such a pity.”

  “Then we shall take this one,” Jael said, pulling out a peacock-blue silk. “I’ve always been partial to this gown, even though it has to be cinched up extra tight. I think it will be perfect for the wedding, and it does have the removable sleeves.”

  “What about this one, as well?” Mrs. Lee asked, holding out a creation of white sprigged muslin.

  “Yes, that one is definitely good for the heat. So is this green batiste.” Jael held up the gown of pale sage. “Have you seen the underdress that goes with it?”

  “I believe so.” Mrs. Lee moved to the dresser. After several minutes of rummaging through the drawers, she managed to locate it. “You’ll have to have it pressed.”

  Jael nodded. “We can round things off with several blouses and the plum-colored skirt. That should suffice.”

  “I’ll put in two nightgowns. That way if one gets too dirty, you can use the other while it’s being washed.” The housekeeper pulled the nightclothes from the bottom drawer. “I’ll see to it you have an extra corset and other undergarments.”

  “I will put some personal items in my small carpetbag,” Jael said, pulling the luggage out from under the bed.

  “It won’t be pleasant traveling in this heat. Miz Buckley—the neighbor two doors down—fainted dead away in the middle of the street.” Mrs. Lee was already packing the peacock-blue silk between paper. “You’d best make sure to take extra fans, and your smelling salts, of course. And what do you plan to wear?”

  Jael looked down at her simple day dress. “I suppose I should change.” She rummaged through the ensembles available to her.

  “Why not just wear a muslin gown,” Mrs. Lee asked. “No one’s gonna mind. Your lilac one is plenty modest and will afford you the benefit of keeping cool. At least, as cool as is possible.”

  Jael pulled the gown from the armoire, held it up, and nodded. “It seems rather informal, but I think you’re right. I have never cared all that much for what is said about me. If they post an article in the paper about my risqué attire, you will simply have to cut it out and show me later.”

  “Goodness, if they post an article on that, I’m bettin’ they’ll hear an earful. Newspapers ought to be for more important things than what a lady wears on a hot day.”

  “I think you look quite lovely,” Mrs. Lee announced after she’d helped Jael change into the lilac-colored gown and arranged her hair. She went back to the trunk and closed the lid. “Everything is ready. I’ll summon the groomsmen to come fetch this.”

  Jael glanced at the ring on her finger and couldn’t help but think of Stuart. What would he say when she told him she intended to see Deborah wed?

  He would forbid it, of course. But she refused to be intimidated. He would threaten to reveal the shameful impetus of their marriage to her father, but now the upper hand belonged to Jael. The truth had set her free.

  “He could threaten Deborah again,” she said aloud without thinking. She glanced up, relieved to see that Mrs. Lee had already gone from the room. It wouldn’t be good to have the older woman asking questions. Mrs. Lee was a woman who thought it her business to know everything about everybody. Especially if the people involved were other than Texans themselves.

  Jael walked to the open window. The air sagged with moisture. The stifling heat was not unlike that which she’d known during Philadelphia summers, but this was only late May. What would July and August be like?

  “Jael?”

  She turned to find her father standing in the open doorway. “Did you manage to get us tickets?”

  He nodded. “But we will have to hurry. There isn’t much time before the train will arrive and be ready to depart.”

  She pointed to the trunk. “I’m ready to go. Mrs. Lee has gone to bring the groomsman to carry my things to the carriage. I have only to secure my bonnet and take up my parasol.” She beamed him a smile. “Stuart won’t be happy to see me, but with you by my side, I feel I can face just about anything.”

  “A letter for Stuart arrived just this morning. It’s on the front table. You might want to take it with you. It’s from his father, and perhaps that will put him in a better state of mind upon seeing you again.”

  Jael doubted that anything would cause Stuart to approve of her, but it was worth a try. “I’ll get it before we leave.”

  Rob strode up to the pastor’s door and rapped on it. He gave Mara a lazy grin when she opened the door. “You get prettier every time I lay eyes on you.”

  “You’ve just been in the heat of the sun too long, Mr. Vandermark.” She looked past him to the wagon. “I see you’ve brought some of the wedding food. Why don’t you drive the wagon around back so we can unload it easier?”

  “I reckon I can do that,” he said. “I hear tell you’re makin’ the weddin’ cake.”

  She nodded. “I am. I’ll bake it today, and tomorrow I’ll decorate it before the service. I have a garden full of budding roses, and I plan to use them on the cake.”

  He frowned. “Can’t eat roses.”

  “Well, actually you can,” she chided, “but these will simply be for show. I plan to sugar them so they’ll sparkle.”

  “You gals sure dream up a lot of work for yourselves. Sparkly roses aren’t exactly what I call worth the effort.”

  She giggled. “Then I suppose you won’t be wanting them on our wedding cake?”

  “I don’t even care if we have a cake, to tell you the truth. And I’m mighty fond of cake.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “But I’m even fonder of you. Perhaps you could share a kiss with me before I get to work.”

  She let him give her a brief kiss before stepping back. “You, Mr. Vandermark, are becoming quite talented in the art of persuasion. They must be training you well in the seminary.”

  He laughed. “I was always good at talkin’ folks into things. It’s just now, I’m using it for the Lord.”

  Mara looked past Rob and frowned. “What does he want?”

  Rob turned and found Stuart Albright approaching the house. Rob positioned himself between Albright and Mara. From the stories he’d heard of late, this man’s appearance could only spell trouble.

  “Mr. Vandermark,” Stuart said as he came up the steps. “Miss Shattuck. I’m here to see the pastor.”

  “He’s not at home, but I expect him back soon,” Mara replied. “He went to see a family across the tracks. I’m sure you could locate him there.”

  Albright glanced over his shoulder and then back to the couple. Rob didn’t care
for the look in the man’s eyes. With the pastor out, Rob felt quite protective of the woman he loved.

  “I would just as soon leave a message. Tell your father that I am closing the church, effective immediately.”

  “What?” Mara exclaimed, coming out from behind Rob. “You can’t do that. We’re having a wedding tomorrow.”

  “So my wife tells me. She insists she attend the wedding, but I have no intention of setting foot at such an affair.” Stuart pretended to dust something off of his tan linen coat. “But the fact of the matter is, I can close the church. It’s my property. There will be no wedding held there on Saturday or any other day. Nor will there be Sunday services. In fact, you can tell your father that I want the two of you to vacate this property by Monday.”

  “How very generous,” Mara said. “You only gave Dr. Kelleher a day.”

  Stuart shrugged. “I have a soft spot for beautiful ladies.”

  Rob restrained his urge to punch Albright in his smug face. “You sure you wouldn’t like to reconsider?” he asked, taking a step toward the smaller man.

  Albright backed up but didn’t retreat in full. “If you think to threaten me—”

  “I haven’t threatened anything, Albright. I just asked if you wouldn’t like to rethink this. What’s it gonna hurt you to allow for the weddin’ to take place as planned?”

  “Hurt?” He shook his head. “I don’t imagine it would hurt anyone if I allowed the wedding to go on, and that’s the problem. I intend to hurt you and your family. I intend to make you all as miserable as you have made me. After all, this ordeal started with a wedding.” He turned to leave and called over his shoulder, “Good day, Miss Shattuck, and thank you for relaying my message to your father.”

  Rob started to go after the man, but Mara took hold of his fisted hand. “Don’t. It will serve no purpose. He’s hoping to make people miserable—it feeds his evil nature. Let’s not allow him any foothold in our happiness.”