Darcy met his gaze and seemed to understand. “I’ll stay.”
“Thank you.” He mounted his horse.
Sissy came from the house with the doctor’s bag. She handed it up and motioned to where Jimmy and Tommy were climbing into the back of the wagon. “I figure to go along.”
He nodded. “I hoped you would. I know you’ll be a comfort and help.”
The rest of the wedding guests had already headed back to Perkinsville. Christopher kicked his horse into action and headed down the road at a full gallop. He passed Jael and her father, giving only a nod as he rode on. His mind was on the tragedy at hand. How much time had passed? How bad would he find things? The men had said they burned out the shanties. Would any structure remain to shelter those who had survived?
Deborah wasn’t surprised to find Stuart Albright doing nothing. He was sitting on his porch, casually watching the chaos with disinterest. How could he be so heartless? Deborah wanted to climb from the wagon and rail at him for his lack of Christian charity toward the less fortunate. She wanted to call to mind that these people were, in every way that mattered, his responsibility.
Instead, she held her tongue. Stuart wouldn’t care. In fact, he’d probably laugh at her, and that would only anger her more. As G.W. drove the wagon across the tracks, Deborah cast a brief backward glance and saw that Mr. Longstreet had brought the Albright carriage to a stop in front of the house. Perhaps as his business partner, he could talk some sense into Stuart.
The smoke hung heavy in the air, as some of the houses were still afire. The school for the colored children was now completely gutted, as were the houses nearest the railroad tracks. Men and women were struggling to pull bodies of the unconscious to safety.
“Oh, Lord, have mercy. Have mercy,” Sissy said, weeping. She didn’t wait for anyone to help her from the wagon and nearly fell as she jumped from the back. Hurrying across the ground, she came to where several women were heating kettles of water over fires. “Let me help you,” she commanded.
Deborah looked out across the destruction. The charred, smoldering remains bore witness to the violence—the broken bodies, along with the screams and moans of the wounded, assaulted her like a slap across the face. What kind of monster did such things?
She knew the answer. She’d dealt with those monsters face-to-face. Well, not really. They hid behind masks, and she understood why. If she’d ever done something so heinous, she would hide her face, as well.
“Well, they did exactly as they said,” Christopher said, helping her from the wagon. “Are you ready?”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I? Helping the sick and injured is what I want to do—what God has called me to do.”
He nodded. “We need to open the hospital. Do you suppose we can talk Stuart into that?”
“I don’t plan to talk him into anything,” Deborah declared. “We will simply tell him that’s how it’s going to be. After all, there are more of us.” She crooked her finger to G.W. “We need to open the hospital,” she told him as he approached.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Christopher reached for his bag. “I’ll leave it in your capable hands. Come along, Deborah. We need to see whose injuries are the worst.”
She started to follow him, then noticed the trees near the edge of the clearing. “Oh no!” Her gasp caused Christopher to take note.
Deborah thought she might vomit. At least seven swinging bodies, lynched. A couple of young boys were struggling to bring down the dead. Several bodies were already on the ground.
“I’ll take care of that,” Rob said, coming alongside them. “I’ll take Jimmy and Tommy. It’s hard for a boy to become a man this way, but we have no choice.”
“I’ll help you,” Pastor Shattuck declared.
Deborah and Christopher made their way to where the injured were gathered. Many had been shot. Some would make it; others were certain to die. Deborah watched as Christopher assessed each man, woman, and child.
One little girl had been shot in the face. It was a glancing blow, but she would be marked for life—if she lived.
G.W. came running—his limp hardly noticeable. “I’ve got the hospital ready.”
Christopher looked from his patients to the wagon. “We need to get the worst of them to my examination room. Take these folks first. I’m going to have to operate. Arrange them as best you can in the front room. We’ll move as quickly as possible.”
“What do you want me to do?” Deborah asked her husband.
“I’ll need you to assist me in surgery,” he told her. “Sissy!” The black woman came running.
“Yessuh, Doc?”
“I need you to tend those whose wounds are less severe. Deborah and I are going to be operating over at the hospital.”
“You jes’ leave it to me,” she assured him. “I’ll get hot water to you, too.”
He nodded and turned back to G.W. “Let’s get the wagon unloaded at my place, then you can use it as an ambulance.”
“Sounds good.” The two men jumped into the wagon.
Deborah motioned them on. “I’ll be there shortly. I’m going to see if Jael can help.”
She crossed the tracks and made her way to the Albright house. Stuart and Mr. Longstreet seemed to be arguing. She didn’t have to explain her presence, however. Jael bounded out of the house, her arms full of sheets. She had changed her clothes and now wore a full apron.
“What can I do?” she asked Deborah.
“You’ll do nothing,” Stuart said, coming between them. “I will not have my wife acting in such a manner.”
“What manner, Stuart?” she asked. “That of a compassionate human being? No doubt that is foreign to you, but I will not be stopped.” Jael looked to her father. “We could use help from both of you. After all, you’re the ones who own this place. At least that’s what you’re always boasting. Have you no concern for your people?”
“They aren’t my people. The land and the buildings that have been destroyed are mine, but the people were set free—or have you forgotten?”
She shook her head. “Sure doesn’t look that way to me.”
Deborah wanted to applaud her friend, but instead reached out to take some of the bedding from Jael’s arms. “Come. We need to hurry. I hope you aren’t squeamish.”
Jael gave Deborah a look that said it all. “I’m stronger than you think.”
As night closed in, Deborah had never known such exhaustion. She remembered briefly when Sissy had sent someone with food and instructions that Deborah and the others were to eat or she would come and feed them herself. Deborah paused long enough to grab a piece of bread and ham. She downed it without even tasting it. Christopher and Jael did likewise, and by then, Mrs. Perkins and Mrs. Huebner had come to assist in the infirmary. They had agreed to stay through the night and attend the wounded. As Christopher explained, there was little else he could do at this point but wait.
Most of the injured were treatable. Those who weren’t had died fairly soon after being brought to the examination room. Deborah wept silently as she covered the body of a ten-year-old boy. Someone had bashed in his head. He had struggled to live, but he had lost too much blood. It was just as well, she supposed. His mother and father were both dead.
Christopher once spoke of a certain ability with which God blessed medical folks. It was a kind of separation—a numbness that allowed them to see the most horrific sights and still function. His words proved true this day. But now, as the urgency passed and the moments settled into routine, emotion overwhelmed Deborah. Scenes revisited her thoughts—gashed heads, gunshot wounds, burns, and the ever-present odor of burnt flesh and death. When Mr. and Mrs. Perkins came forward to tell them to go home, she nearly cried with relief.
“You’ve done all you can, Doc. Why don’t you go on back home and get a good night’s sleep. We can handle these folks tonight. Rachel here is quite good at nursing, and Sissy won’t be far.”
Christopher seemed
torn in regard to his duty. “I can sleep in my old bed.”
Zed led him to the door, taking Deborah along as he walked by. “We took that bed into the infirmary for a patient. You two were just married, and already you did more than anyone had a right to ask.”
“He’s right,” Jael said, coming alongside Deborah. “You two need to rest or you’ll be no good to us tomorrow.”
Deborah looked to Christopher. He nodded and put his arm around her. “I suppose we can bring back more supplies in the morning.”
“Take our carriage,” Jael offered.
“That’s all right. We can ride back with G.W.” Deborah had seen her brother only ten minutes earlier. He and Rob were going to finish up the remaining burials and then head home.
“I’ll go let them know,” Christopher said, heading toward the railroad tracks.
“I hope your work here hasn’t caused you too much trouble,” Deborah said to Jael. “I know we couldn’t have helped as many without you.”
Jael smiled. “I will be fine. Sometimes God brings about answers we don’t expect.”
“So you’re feeling less inclined to ignore the Lord?”
“I realized that doing things my way wasn’t exactly accomplishing a whole lot of good.” She smiled. “I’m new at this praying thing, but I asked God for His help and promised to do whatever I could to live a life He would find worthy of saving.”
“Just remember that salvation is a free gift. We can’t earn it, Jael. We aren’t any of us worthy in and of ourselves. We only find value in God’s eyes when we accept His Son as Savior.”
“Then that’s what I want,” her friend assured her.
Deborah embraced Jael. “I’m so glad. You won’t regret it.”
Jael pulled away and nodded. “I have already had answered prayer.”
The look on Jael’s face piqued Deborah’s curiosity, and apparently the question was fixed in her expression.
“I’ll tell you all about it later. Your brothers and husband are coming back this way.” She kissed Deborah’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon—I promise.”
Jael looked at Stuart and crossed her arms against her chest. Her father had long since gone to bed, but she wasn’t going anywhere until she had settled some issues.
“I do not intend to return to Houston until after I see this matter resolved with the Vandermarks.”
“Do you suppose to order me around—tell me how it will be?”
Jael took a seat opposite Stuart’s desk. “I had hoped we could work amicably together. Reach a compromise, if you would.”
“What makes you think you have anything I want?” He sneered. “You satisfy my needs quite well already, and as my wife you will continue to do so. There is no compromise to be had.”
“Ah, but there is.”
“If this is about a divorce, I have already told you no. We are married and will stay that way.”
“Not unless there are some changes.” She fixed him with a hard look. “You see, I know the truth.”
He looked around the room for a moment as if someone else had joined them. “What is this about?”
“I know you had to marry me to obtain your inheritance. We were both in need of marriage, and together we helped each other. I had hoped love would grow between us, Stuart, but I’m not sure that you are even capable of such emotion.”
“This is nonsense, Jael. Of course you knew the situation when we married. Now, leave me be and stop with any further thought of making demands. Or have you forgotten my previous threats? Miss Vandermark—excuse me, Mrs. Kelleher—may be married, but she could still meet with an accident.” He shrugged. “Things like that do happen.” He appeared to focus on the ledger before him.
Jael refused to be moved. “Of course I knew that you needed a wife to obtain your inheritance.” She waited until he raised his gaze to her before continuing. “What I didn’t know then was that you needed to remain married for a certain time period or your father would fail to release the final fortune to you. He would also cut you from his will irrevocably.”
Stuart tried to hide his surprise, but he was unable to mask his expression. “What are you talking about?”
Jael smiled and held up a letter. “I found this from your father. It was waiting for you in Houston.”
“You had no right to open that.” He pounded his fist against the desk. “No right.”
She shrugged. “Be that as it may, I read the contents and must say, they were quite liberating. You need me to remain married to you.”
Stuart appeared most uncomfortable. He pulled at the neck of his shirt and fell back against the chair. “What are you proposing?”
“I will stay with you, Stuart. I have spoken to my father about the matter, and while he is appalled at my being in a loveless marriage, I assured him that I could be content. We will live as man and wife in name only—perhaps even in the same residence, so long as we maintain separate living arrangements. You have your mistresses and liaisons anyway. I doubt you’ll be that inconvenienced.”
“And what must I do in return?” he asked, leaning forward.
She could see she had his utmost interest. “I think you already know the answer to that. Tear up your contract with the Vandermarks. Free them to do business elsewhere and stop this childish determination to get revenge. Do that and I will stay with you. Refuse and I will have lawyers draw up papers immediately for a divorce. My father will wire your father and explain, and your inheritance will be forfeited.”
“You tramp. You think you have me where you want me.”
Jael got to her feet. “No, because that place would be six feet under.”
“Speaking of which, I could simply do away with you,” he threatened.
She smiled. “But you won’t. The proviso of your father’s instructions stipulates that if I should die in any way other than during childbirth, he would immediately withdraw your funds until such time as you were able to remarry and remain that way for . . . what was it—ten years? Yes, I believe it was to be increased to ten.” She narrowed her eyes. “Since I do not intend to bear your children or share your bed again, my death in childbirth is clearly not going to happen.”
Stuart jumped to his feet. “I could force you! I could have my way with you here and now.”
She stood her ground. “You dare to try, and our divorce will be imminent. You see? I now hold the winning cards. You have tormented and tortured my friends for long enough. Resolve this matter immediately or lose it all.”
June 1887
Stuart was not pleased to see his wife and father-in-law enter his study. “I’m very busy.” He looked at Longstreet. “It’s been over a week since you arrived—don’t you have business to attend to back in Houston?”
“I do, but I also have affairs that need my attention right here,” Longstreet replied. He seated Jael and pulled up a second chair for himself. “As your partner, I figure we need to talk.”
Stuart looked at Jael, and the rage brewing within him since her proclamations the week before threatened to boil over.
“With all that has happened,” Longstreet began, “we need to figure out what is most beneficial and productive for this town. I have arranged to have the blacks moved into the houses on the north side of town.”
“What? Those are quarters for whites. This isn’t their side of town,” Stuart protested.
“That was once the case, but now there is no other alternative. They cannot be expected to live without shelter. The thunderstorms of the past few days should prove that if nothing else. Then there are the sick to contend with.”
“I already allowed the infirmary to be reopened. Dr. Kelleher has used up most of the inventoried supplies, and I haven’t even charged the people for their care.”
“Nor will you,” Jael declared.
Stuart was not used to being ordered about—especially not by a woman. He glared at her. “I may have money, my dear wife, but I won’t have it for long if I give charity to everyone.�
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“You are the reason this town is in ruins,” she countered. “I’ve overheard your conversations with the insurance inspector. Whether you set the mill on fire yourself or hired it done, it was still your doing. You have a grudge against the Vandermarks and anyone who cares for them.”
“You can never prove that,” Stuart said without thinking. He fought to regain his composure, adding, “Because it isn’t true.”
Dwight Longstreet raised his hand. “It isn’t important. We need to turn things around and see this town rebuilt. Until new quarters can be constructed to house the blacks, they will stay in the ones already in place.”
“No white man will put his family in a house where former slaves have lived. Your knowledge of whites in this part of the country may be limited, but I’ve made it my duty to understand.” Stuart crossed his arms. “We’ll only end up having to tear those houses down or drag them to the other side of the tracks.”
“If it comes to that, then we will do what must be done,” Longstreet replied. “In the meanwhile, I intend to speak to Zed about setting up an outdoor mill. I’m going to instruct him to order the things he needs and get at least a minimal mill operation going. That will give people work to do and provide the needed lumber for the reconstruction.”
Stuart jumped to his feet. “You overstep your bounds, Longstreet. You forget that I am the controlling partner in this business.”
Jael stood to face her husband. “And you forget that I know full well about your father’s requirements for your inheritance. Your days of revenge and control have come to an end. You are no longer going to do these people harm.”
“Me? I didn’t burn down the shanties. I didn’t shoot up the town.” He was annoyed that she should even imply such a thing. Certainly he’d done nothing to stop it, but he was only one man against fifteen or twenty. Lying low in the house was far wiser until he could learn to what extent the riders intended to cause damage.
Hope Rekindled Page 23
