Hope Rekindled

by Tracie Peterson

  “Grandest deer you ever saw,” he said, laughing. “ ’Course, I doubt Rachel saw it the same way. She was less than impressed when I told her we’d be cleaning it later that night.”

  “How awful, Zed,” Mother said, shaking her head. “That’s no way to treat your bride.”

  “Well, as luck would have it, our friends took pity on me,” Zed replied. “They told me they’d gut it and hang it, in return for a dance with Rachel. Of course, I complied.”

  “He knew better than not to,” Rachel countered. “Otherwise, that deer would have been his only companion that night.”

  Laughter filled the air, and Deborah said, “I was afraid my new husband would be off delivering babies or setting bones.”

  “The day’s still young,” her uncle declared. “You can never tell what might happen.”

  Jake had taken his time lumbering down the road to town, planning in his mind exactly what he would say in the telegram. He didn’t have a lot of ready cash, so it would have to be short, but he wanted to apologize and let them know that he wished to come back to live with them. Of course, there was the possibility that his folks wouldn’t want him to come to California. They might hold him a grudge.

  Jake shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the fear. He wouldn’t know the truth until he sent the telegram and heard back from his folks. It didn’t make sense to give credence to such ideas before their time.

  A sound caught his attention and he paused at the side of the road. Riders were approaching. A good many riders, from the sound of it. They were headed north toward the Vandermarks’. He didn’t know why, but something told him to head back into the woods. He slipped behind several hardwoods and waited to see what was going on.

  The sound grew louder and now he could hear voices. Horses and riders came into view, and Jake’s blood ran cold at the sight of them. Flour or gunny sacks covered every head. Holes had been cut out for the eyes, but otherwise, nothing hinted as to who they were. There wasn’t any need. Jake clearly recognized the uniform of the White Hand of God.

  The horses slowed as the man in the lead held up his hands. “Reload. We don’t wanna get caught on empty chambers.”

  The men allowed the horses to walk on at a slow pace while they loaded their pistols and rifles. Jake walked quietly through the trees, pacing the riders—backtracking toward the Vandermark place. He had to strain to make out what they were saying.

  Jake edged back toward the road to see if he could figure out how many there were. Looked to be at least fifteen, and the one in front appeared to be the leader.

  “You done good back there, boys. Now we’ll take care of this last little bit of business and head home.”

  “I heard there was a weddin’ goin’ on at their place,” someone said.

  “I heard that, too,” the leader answered. “I figure it’s the best place to lay down the law. Every white man and woman in the area ’ceptin’ us is gathered there to watch that Vandermark gal get hitched. I figure it makes the job all the easier. We go there and tell them all how it’s gonna be. I don’t wanna hurt no white man, but I guarantee we’ll get their attention. Sometimes you have to discipline a wayward child.”

  That was all Jake needed to hear. He knew that if the men moved into a full gallop he’d never be able to reach the Vandermarks first. Unconcerned with whether the men heard him, Jake lit out through the forest, praying that they would be far too consumed by their plans to even notice him.

  He felt a burning in his legs but pressed on. His lungs were aching from the exertion of running, but Jake couldn’t slow. He knew if he did, the others would reach Deborah first. He saw the cutoff that would bring him around to the railroad tracks and decided to take it. The horses and riders would no doubt stick to the main road. The Vandermark place was more easily reached that way on horseback. Jake angled off toward the tracks, and only when he was certain the road was clear of any possible observer did he dare to dash across the open path.

  Plunging into the woods that ran alongside the tracks, Jake was grateful that the forest ground had been burned off earlier in the year. The distance was fairly easy to cover, and he knew he’d soon approach the Vandermarks’ southern property line.

  All he could think of was that those men meant to cause harm. Harm to Deborah and anyone else who got in their way. He prayed, pleading with God to protect the woman he loved and the family and friends she cherished.

  He was completely exhausted by the time he reached the clearing. Jake could hear the laughter and joy of the celebrators. They would, no doubt, be surprised by his intrusion, but they’d be grateful, too.

  The guests were sitting at tables, enjoying dinner, and waiting for Rob to cut a large cake, when Jake stumbled out across the yard. G.W. and Arjan were first to get to their feet, but it didn’t take long for the others to gather round him.

  “Riders . . . White Hand riders . . . comin’ this way.” He gasped for air and Arjan directed Rob to bring water. He dropped the knife and grabbed a pitcher.

  “Take it easy, son. Get your wind and then tell us what’s goin’ on,” Arjan instructed.

  “No. No time. Riders comin’.” Jake pointed toward the road. “There’s . . . gonna . . . be trouble.”

  He sank to his knees and took the water Rob offered him. Gulping it down, Jake struggled to control his breathing. They didn’t understand. They just stood there, looking at him like he was crazy.

  Just then, however, the sound of horses moving in at a full gallop drew G.W.’s attention. “He’s right—someone’s coming.”

  “They’re armed,” Jake said, getting back on his feet.

  “Well, we can be, too,” G.W. said, running for the side of the house. “Christopher! Rob! Help me out.”

  The men bounded up the porch stairs. Arjan motioned to Deborah and her mother. “Nell, you and Deborah get the women and children inside.”

  But it was too late. The first of the riders could be seen on the road, and that was when guns started blazing. Jake did the only thing he could. He ran for Deborah and put himself between her and the gunmen.

  Deborah could scarcely believe what was happening. The riders stormed the yard like soldiers taking a battlefield. Jake shoved her behind him, but she couldn’t register the words he was saying over his shoulder. Shock made her deaf and nearly void of rational thought.

  The riders circled them, upsetting the tables of food. They fired their guns into the air, and one particularly large man cocked the hammers of his shotgun as he aimed at the wedding cake Mara had made. Cake and sugared roses splattered out across the yard.

  Deborah turned slightly to see her mother forcing the younger children and Lizzie into the house. There was no hope of making it there herself. She wondered where Christopher was—if he would know to sneak around from the back of the house rather than rush out through the front door. He would be worried about her, just as she was concerned about him.

  Calm yourself. Calm down, or you’ll be no use to anyone. G.W. and Rob will help him.

  All at once, the riders came to a stop. It was very nearly like a well-planned dance. The horses settled and the shooting stopped, but the leader pressed forward and pointed his long-barreled pistol directly at Jake and Deborah.

  “I’m here on account of the bride,” he declared. The masked men snickered, and Deborah couldn’t help but look around Jake to get a better view. It wasn’t like she could see their faces, but even so, she had to look.

  Jake pushed Deborah back behind him again. “You’ll have to shoot me to get to her.”

  “That doesn’t bother me one bit.” He lowered the gun to aim at Jake’s chest.

  “No!” Deborah shouted. “What do you want?” She sidestepped Jake, but he took hold of her arm.

  “That’s just what I was gonna ask,” Arjan said, moving in front of Jake and Deborah.

  The man on the lead horse stared in silence for several minutes. The eerie face covering gave him a surreal appearance—not quite human,
not quite apparition.

  Arjan crossed his arms. “I asked what you wanted, mister.”

  “I heard you. I reckon I’ll answer you when I’m good and ready.”

  “Well, get ready,” G.W. called from the side of the house. “I have a rifle fixed right between your eyes.”

  “Well, ain’t you the brave one,” the man replied.

  Deborah glanced across the yard to the other side of the house and saw Rob and Christopher. “We have a bit of a standoff here, fellas,” Rob declared. “I’d suggest you put away your guns.”

  “I don’t reckon I’ll do that,” the leader said. “And further, I don’t figure you’ll do anything about it. You might shoot me, but my men will kill this pretty bride deader than Mr. Lincoln.”

  “So tell us what you want and get off our property,” Arjan demanded.

  “Well now, I’m figurin’ you already know full well what we want. After all, we paid you folks a little visit not so long ago. Y’all’ve been stirrin’ up trouble and takin’ up the cause of the colored folk. We’ve decided to put an end to that. First, we took care of the situation in town, and now we’re takin’ care of you. You Vandermarks need to realize that there are far more of us that hate the Negroes than those of you who appear to love ’em.”

  Deborah could see the strained expression on Christopher’s face. She feared he might well charge across the yard to reach her. Shaking her head, she mouthed just one word: No.

  “We aren’t the kind of folks to run scared,” Arjan said. He nodded to the pastor and some of their other friends. “We’re Texans, and we don’t take kindly to threats.”

  “This ain’t just a threat, Mr. Vandermark.” The man nudged his horse a little closer and pointed the pistol at Arjan. “This is a bona fide promise. Let our example speak for itself. If you don’t stop tryin’ to interfere, you and yours are gonna end up like the folks in Perkinsville. We’ll burn this place to the ground—just like we did that shantytown.”

  “What?” Deborah found it impossible to remain silent. “You burned them out?” The breeze had been westerly all day and no doubt that was why they hadn’t so much as smelled the burning wood.

  The man laughed. “Burned ’em and beat ’em. There ain’t much left, and there’ll be even less of this place if you don’t yield.”

  “You had no right!” Deborah started for the man, but Jake held her fast. It took only that action to cause Christopher to rush across the yard.

  “Stay there, Doc. You don’t wanna make her a widow before she gets a weddin’ night. Worse yet, you don’t wanna be a widower.” He turned the pistol again on Deborah and Jake. The men around him laughed and threw out vulgar comments. “Now, I ain’t in the habit of shootin’ white folks, but I’ll do what I need to do in order to get my point across.”

  “Please, Christopher, don’t move.” Deborah felt a sense of dread like she’d never experienced in her life.

  Arjan shook his head and stepped forward as if to take hold of the leader’s horse. “This has gone on long enough. I answer to a higher authority. God Almighty directs my steps.”

  The pistol rang out without warning. The man had moved his aim so quickly that Deborah actually found herself waiting to feel the bullet pierce her. Instead, she watched Arjan crumple to the ground. The horse reared up beside him, but miraculously missed coming down on the injured man by only inches.

  “See if you can walk His way with a bullet in one leg.” He repositioned the pistol on Jake and Deborah. “Now, unless you want the next one to cut down this heroic young man, and then the bride . . . I’d suggest you all put down your guns.”

  For several minutes, no one did anything. Deborah strained to see if Arjan was all right, but she couldn’t tell.

  “We’re puttin’ ’em down,” G.W. announced, his words surprising Deborah.

  “That’s a wise choice. Now, like I said, today is your last warnin’. The law won’t help you because we are the law—the new law of the land. You’d do well to understand that fact right now.” He backed the horse up with the slightest pull of the reins.

  “I want five of you boys up on the road, holding guns on these kind folks.” Without questioning the request, five riders headed off toward the main road. The leader waited for them to be in position.

  “I never intended to shoot you, Vandermark, but it’s enough for you to know I’ll do what I have to. The boys and I are gonna leave you to your weddin’ party, but in the future, I’m hopin’ you’ll remember this and realize that the times have changed. Mr. Lincoln’s war may be over, but Southerners everywhere are regaining their legs—we’re gonna rise again, and that’s a fact. Best you figure out which side you’ll be on.”

  He reined the horse hard to the left and gave him a kick. “Yah,” he cried and the other awaiting riders did likewise.

  Deborah didn’t wait for the men to clear the yard. She rushed to Arjan’s side, mindless of her wedding dress. She reached out to steady the leg. “Hold still.” She waited for Christopher to join her. He gave her a look that said far more than words.

  “Let’s get him inside.”

  G.W., Jake, and Rob came to help, as well as Jimmy and Tommy. Mother appeared at the door. “I saw it all,” she said, biting her lower lip. “Is it grave?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Christopher told her.

  Sissy already had an oiled canvas atop the dining room table and the men lowered Arjan onto it. Christopher wasted no time tearing away the man’s trouser leg. He assessed the wound and motioned to Deborah. “Get my bag.”

  She hurried through the kitchen and out the door. The shock of what had happened kept her from breaking into tears. She had to do what was needed. She had to help Arjan.

  To her surprise, the cabin had been decorated for their wedding night. Someone had brought in flowers and candles. But there was no time to take any pleasure in the setting. Deborah went quickly to where Christopher had begun to set up a small examination room. She grabbed the bag, bandages, and several other items before heading back to the house.

  “Oh, God, please help us. Please help Uncle Arjan.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Jake asked, appearing on the path.

  Deborah nodded. “Pray, Jake. Please pray.”

  It’s not much more than a flesh wound, shot clean,” Christopher told them. “It didn’t hit the bone or major blood vessels. Take it easy for a while, and I think it will heal up nicely.” He washed his hands and looked to where Deborah was applying the final bandages to Arjan’s leg.

  Euphanel shook her head. “I can’t believe this has happened. What in the world are we going to do?”

  “Well, Christopher and I are going to head into town and see how we can help the people there,” Deborah announced.

  Christopher glanced at the clock and nodded. It was just after one o’clock. “Can I borrow a wagon?”

  “You know you can,” Arjan said, struggling to sit up.

  Deborah gripped him firmly at the shoulders. “You need to rest. G.W. and the others can put you to bed for Mother. Then they should probably come help us.”

  Zed and Rachel headed for the door. “I think we’d all best get back to town.”

  “I’m so sorry for all that’s happened,” Jael said, coming to give Deborah a hug. “This certainly wasn’t what any of us would have wished for your wedding day.”

  Deborah embraced her friend. “I didn’t even have a chance to realize that you were here until we were gathering to eat. I’m sure Stuart was livid about your coming.”

  “He’ll get over it, I assure you,” Jael said with a weak smile. “You’d best go. We can talk later.”

  “Yes.” She looked down at her clothes. “I need to go change.”

  When Deborah turned back from Jael, Christopher frowned. The front of her wedding gown was saturated with blood and dirt, ruined. There would be no passing it down to their children. No beautiful memento of their joyous day.

  Some joy, he thought. He just coul
dn’t shake the picture of that horseman holding a gun to her.

  “Doc, you’d best change your clothes, too,” Sissy said. She gestured to his instruments. “I can boil these things for you. I has the water hot on the stove.”

  “Thank you, Sissy. Boil them for exactly five minutes, then dry them and wrap them in a clean towel. We could also use any spare bandages or sheets.”

  Euphanel waited until her sons had carried Arjan from the room before moving. “Tommy, run upstairs to the attic. There’s a stack of old blankets and sheets. If those men burned the town down as they said, then those folks will need all the extra supplies we can spare.” She turned to Jimmy. “Take Darcy and the little ones and go to where we keep the canned food. Start packing crates with whatever you can.”

  Christopher shook his head and headed for the door. “I’ll gather my things from the cabin. Perhaps we can talk Mr. Albright into sharing goods from the store.” He doubted that Stuart would consider it, but it was worth a try.

  Making his way to the cabin, Christopher felt a heaviness settle over him. As much as he longed to see an end to prejudices and negativity, he knew they would go on. People were people, with their own opinions and desires. Some were productive and useful to society. But with the hatred and bitterness of racism, the bad seemed to outweigh the good.

  He rushed through the cabin, peeling off his wedding clothes. Like Deborah’s, they were stained with blood. How much more blood would he have on him before the day was over? He gathered his things and headed back to the house, not even bothering to tuck his shirt in.

  G.W. stood ready with the wagon and Christopher’s horse, while Rob helped Mara into her father’s carriage. “I’ll head in with them,” he told G.W. and jumped up to join the Shattucks.

  Deborah and her mother were bringing out baskets of food. “I’ll be here with Arjan and the children,” she told Deborah. “Send word if you need anything.”

  “I want to help,” Darcy said, coming to stand by the women. “Can’t I go?”

  Christopher couldn’t help but think of the ugliness that awaited them. “You’d be more of a help here keeping the little ones busy. I’d like Sissy to come with us. Mama Euphanel won’t have anyone else.”