The color drained from Rachel’s face and her grip on Seth inexplicably released. He looked up questioningly at her blank face. “Achel?”
“Shhh,” she whispered kindly. She looked down at the toddler, who had seemed to be her only friend during recent times. Suddenly, it all came clear to her as she thought about those simple words she had heard time and time again: “For God so loved…”
It was as though she were hearing the words for the first time. God loves me more than I could ever love this child. She looked into his beautiful, enormous light blue eyes. He doesn’t want to see me hurt any more than I wanted to see Seth drown in the lake that day. Is such a love possible? Rachel needed time to think.
“Seth, go see your mommy, honey.” Rachel handed the boy to his mother, stood as the sermon was ending, and dashed out the door. She didn’t stop until she’d reached the familiar, ancient oak tree near the lake. She dropped to her knees without worrying about her gown, clasped her hands together, and sobbed in deep remorse, aware for the first time how empty her life had been over the last few months. Not because she was in Searsville, but because she had been living life without the Lord.
Dearest Father in heaven, You have shown me today how selfish and repulsive I have been. My thoughts about Gretchen Steele just sicken me. I’m beginning to see how You have kept me safe and among people who would take care of me… and all I’ve done is complain about them not being the right people. I’ve been so angry because Your will was not the same as mine. First, I was so angry at Marshall for sending me away, but I would have never known how much I love to teach if he hadn’t done that. Then You sent me to live with Maria, who I thought simply a religious zealot. Now I know her for the kind-hearted, generous person she is, a woman who shares some of my background and struggles. She, too, was sent away from her only family. She was the focus of evil gossip. And yet she never left Your side. Why couldn’t I see that before? You provided an example for me, a foundation for me. You have been faithful, asking only that I believe that You sent Your Son to die for me. Yet I was so proud; I thought You only wanted to hurt me. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to learn this lesson; I’ve been so hardened. Thank You for Pastor’s message, thank You for Seth showing me the way, and thanks especially for Your Son. Please forgive me in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Rachel felt immediately at peace, knowing once again what it felt like to be reconciled to God. She knew her heart would have to continually be before the Lord in prayer, for her jealous feelings over Gretchen Steele and Chase Dylan had diminished only slightly.
Chase had made a point to attend services after his Christmas Day discussion with Gretchen. Although he’d planned to stay in Portola through the winter, he didn’t want Gretchen to think it was to avoid her. He was speaking with Pastor Swayles when Gretchen approached him. “Gretchen, what a pleasure to see you. Did you enjoy the sermon?” Chase bid the pastor good-bye and took the widow aside.
“Yes, Chase, I did, thank you. I appreciated it very much,” Gretchen answered honestly.
“How are you feeling?” Chase asked with deep concern for his friend. He was pleased she had not avoided him.
“I’m fine, Chase. Really. I wanted to thank you for being the voice of reason for me the last time we spoke.” Gretchen’s voice was calm and even.
“That’s what friends are for, Gretchen.”
“And we are friends, aren’t we? I’m very thankful for that.” The peace behind her words was new to Chase, and he wondered what had happened after their confrontation. “Henry and I are having our very own New Year’s Eve party tonight. We’re going to ring in 1864 with style,” Gretchen said happily, gesturing with her arms expressively.
“That’s wonderful, Gretchen. I hope you both have a wonderful time. I’ll see the two of you Tuesday when I pick up Henry.”
“We’re looking forward to it,” she replied. Chase was intrigued by the woman standing before him. Never since Harold’s death had he seen Gretchen so happy or content.
“Miss Phillips, are you okay?” Her eyes full of concern, Veronica Smith, the young bride, had interrupted Rachel’s prayer alongside the lake.
“Yes, Veronica. Thank you, I’m fine.” Rachel rose quickly, dusting off her skirt and sniffing away her tears.
“I’ve been meanin’ to drop by and speak with you, but I’ve been a little afraid.”
“Whatever do you mean, Veronica?”
“Do you remember when I told you that I wouldn’t be alone because Jeremiah would be workin’ for Chase Dylan?”
“Yes, of course I do. And how is Jeremiah?”
“I’m embarrassed to say it, but he’s been workin’ for Mr. Hopper since Chase left for Redwood, and I seldom see him.” Veronica’s voice sounded more mature and it seemed marriage had actually been good for the young woman. Gone was the ever-present childish whining Rachel remembered.
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Veronica.” Rachel was sorry, but didn’t understand why Veronica would confide such information in her.
“I’m living with my folks right now, until Chase begins running his mill next week. But I was wonderin’ if you would lend me some books to bide my time.”
“Books?” Rachel was caught off guard. First, her mind was thrown into a whirlwind at the mere mention of Chase being back at work in Portola. She thought of him in his dark, sturdy work pants and torn mill shirt. Second, she questioned Veronica’s sudden penchant for learning. Veronica had always been bright, but rarely had any initiative for education.
“Yeah, I was thinkin’ since I’m not really being a full-fledged wife, I might as well be learnin’. I was thinkin’ a book on sums…”
Rachel regained her composure. “That’s very good thinking indeed, and I think Jeremiah will be very proud of you for your efforts.”
Veronica smiled at the mention of her husband. “We’re savin’ to buy a place of our own, and the more I know my numbers, the better we’ll be able to budget.”
Rachel was impressed with the new Veronica Smith. Jeremiah must be quite a man to have such a positive affect on this young woman. “That sounds like very mature thinking to me.” Veronica grinned broadly, and the two women made arrangements to exchange the books.
New Year’s Eve in Searsville was a ruckus that reminded Rachel of her days in the gold country. Gunfire was plentiful, and the whoops and hollers of drunken men kept law-abiding citizens indoors.
“I dare say this town gets crazier every year,” Maria said as she anxiously knitted a small bootie.
“I wouldn’t worry too much. From the sound of things, tomorrow will be a very quiet day in Searsville,” Robert said, laughing. “Their problem is, it takes them a whole year to forget how much they drank the year before.”
Rachel rose from her parlor seat. “Seth’s asleep by now. I’m going to write a letter to my mother. Good-night.” She headed for her bedroom with her lamp.
December 31, 1863
Dear Mother,
Happy New Year, 1864. I certainly hope this year will be all that you desire. My purpose in writing is to make a confession regarding my life here in Searsville. I have been less than forthright about my true position here in the village, and I think it’s only proper that you know the truth. First, however, you must understand that I am fine and now resting in the Lord’s peace, so there is nothing you can do for me. Be assured that I know He is watching over me.
It seems that when I came to Searsville, I made an enemy of a certain influential woman in town. Somewhere an ugly rumor was begun, and I have been shunned by most of the town’s citizens. To make a long story short, I have been blaming Marshall and others for my problems, instead of taking responsibility for being out of God’s Will with my life. I’ve since learned God’s love is sufficient, as strong as the redwood. Indeed, stronger, for He is not at the mercy of man.
Mother, I want you to tell Marshall that I’m sorry for thinking badly of him. I’ve since heard all that he did to make sure I would be
properly cared for here and that I would be with believers in Searsville. Tell him I’m sorry, won’t you mother? And please kiss my baby Georgie.
With all my love,
Rachel
Chapter 18
Rachel returned after the holidays eager to share the Lord with the children. She had been in constant prayer since Pastor Swayles’s message about Christ and planned to speak to the children each and every day about their foundation in the Lord. “Today, children, we’re reading from Hebrews, chapter four, verse fifteen: ‘For we have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.’ This means Christ was able to bear all temptations without falling into sin. Is it possible for us to do that?”
“No,” sung the class.
“It may not be possible, but with Christ that’s not necessary. He will clothe our unrighteousness. Is there anyone here today who hasn’t asked Christ to dwell in his heart, but would like to do so?” Rachel would repeat the offer daily after her Bible lesson, making sure her class was well versed in the road to salvation, just as she’d promised to do when she accepted her role as Searsville’s teacher.
Chase had a light step as he strolled along to pick up Henry for their first time together in two months. The chilled evening air was refreshing, and Chase was looking forward to his new relationship with Henry’s mother. Gone would be the tension that had been present since Harold’s death.
“Henry!” Chase shouted as the small boy came rushing out the doorway into his arms.
“Chase, Mama and me are movin’ by the train,” Henry explained enthusiastically. Chase’s lightheartedness suddenly left him, and he took the news like a blow to the stomach.
“Moving?” He looked to the doorway where Gretchen stood, an approving expression upon her face. Putting Henry down, he walked tentatively toward her. “What’s this about, Gretchen?”
“Henry, why don’t you go see what Jackson’s up to in the stable. Maybe he’ll let you give Clarabel an apple,” Gretchen directed, and Henry obediently did as he was told. “Why don’t you come in? I’ve made some coffee and apple pie.”
The color drained from Chase’s face as he thought of his beloved Henry leaving. He wasn’t certain of the boy’s salvation, and Chase felt that vital matter was his responsibility. Harold had asked him personally upon his deathbed to see to it. Now, the opportunity was being snatched away before he had a chance to fulfill his promise. He loved Henry like his own son, and it pained him to think about Henry leaving.
Gretchen led Chase into the front parlor and set a silver tray of pie and coffee before him. Chase looked with apprehension at the fuss she had made and knew Henry’s words had been the truth.
“Before you say anything, I think you should know Harold had always intended for us to live in town, in Redwood. When he died, I forgot all about those plans. I’ve been concentrating on other matters up until now.” Gretchen made no attempt to hide her past plans to attract Chase’s affections. “And now I think it’s best for Henry. He’ll still see you often enough, every time you’re in Redwood, I would think.”
“Gretchen, I just don’t understand. There’s so much Henry and I planned. We haven’t even gotten to ride the railroad yet.”
“Chase, there are no opportunities for us here. Harold left us very well off, but I’m just withering away in Searsville, from boredom and a lack of purpose. And, quite frankly, I don’t like the person I’ve become here.”
“Please don’t take any offense at this, but what makes you think things will be any different in Redwood?” Chase asked.
“I don’t know that they will. I just need to try something different. Mrs. Williams, your friend who’s staying with Mrs. Hopper, has offered me a job.”
“A job?” Chase said incredulously.
“Believe it or not, I’m a very capable woman. Before I married Harold, I ran a highly recommended restaurant in San Francisco,” Gretchen said defensively.
“Gretchen, I never meant to imply… I only meant, why would you want to work when—”
“The only thing I’ve accomplished here is the occasional quilt and a great deal of trouble. Redwood will provide more stimulation for both Henry and me, and, hopefully, I’ll learn to keep my mouth quiet.”
“Have you prayed about this?” Chase asked.
“What is it with you and Robert Lathrop and that question?”
“I just don’t want you to make a mistake with Henry.”
“The fact is, I’m human and I’m bound to make a mistake or two, but I feel the need to get out of Searsville. We’re planning to move in the spring, when Mr. Williams is finished with the hotel.”
“Gretchen, is there anything I can say to change your mind?”
“I don’t think so,” Gretchen said slowly.
It was a pleasant Saturday in February, and Rachel sat along the lakeside with her Bible open to Proverbs. It was her favorite book; she felt God must truly have had a sense of humor, encapsulating so much wisdom in such short passages. She came to chapter six and read with great interest:
“‘My son, if thou be surety for thy friend, if thou has stricken thy hand with a stranger, thou art snared with the words of thy mouth…. Do this now, my son, and deliver thyself, when thou art come into the hand of thy friend; go, humble thyself, and make sure thy friend.’”
Rachel wasn’t sure why, but she read the words as a commandment. On deeper evaluation, she felt God telling her to reconcile with Gretchen Steele. The very idea appalled her, but she knew God’s gentle reminders would not go away until she’d put an end to the strife that was between her and the young widow. She must make it right, even if it was a one-sided effort.
Rachel closed her Bible and prayed for wisdom. Then she rose from the lakeside, dusted off her skirt, and began walking along the path toward the towering Steele home. As she stood on the front walk, her knees buckled at the thought of entering the house. The last time she had been in the home had been the night of the sewing circle, where she had heard the vicious lies about Maria. Rachel also knew that the following week must have been when the rumor about “her” baby had been circulated.
Rachel held her Bible close to her chest and continued to stare blankly at the front door of the home. Suddenly the door opened and Gretchen Steele appeared with a small rug in her hands. She began to beat the rug over the front porch banister before noticing Rachel’s presence.
“May I help you?” The widow asked scornfully.
“Mrs. Steele, I think we need to talk.”
“I can’t think of anything I have to say to you, Miss Phillips,” she said, while attempting to close the door.
Rachel’s stomach churned with nervousness, but she clung tightly to her Bible, praying silently, and continued to move forward, pushing the door open with her hand. “Well then, maybe you might listen for a change.”
“I beg your pardon,” Gretchen finally managed.
“Mrs. Steele, I really think we ought to go inside. This is not a matter of public interest.”
Gretchen Steele dropped the rug over the banister and motioned for Rachel to enter the house. The widow glanced about to see if anyone had witnessed the exchange and then followed the teacher into the house quickly, closing the door hastily behind her. Rachel wasn’t invited in, so the two stood facing one another in the foyer.
“Miss Phillips, if this is about Chase Dylan, I can assure you I have nothing to do with the fact that he has no interest in you whatsoever,” she snippily commented.
“This has absolutely nothing to do with Chase Dylan. I haven’t even seen the man since the New Year’s Eve service.” Rachel was surprised that the attack didn’t sting; in fact, it had caused the exact opposite reaction than what had been intended. Somehow, Rachel felt an overwhelming emotion of mercy. All at once she saw Mrs. Steele for the broken person that she was: a woman terrified of living in the rugged logging territory without the husband she had lo
ved and unable to share those fears with anyone. No one seemed to truly care about the woman except her son. The only people who were on speaking terms with her seemed to be Chase Dylan and the small circle of quilting party members who met at the general store to gossip. Rachel was filled with sadness.
“Well, what are you doing here then, Miss Phillips? My son will not be attending your schoolroom next year, so I hardly think we have anything to discuss.” Gretchen sounded incensed, and Rachel knew her presence in the woman’s home must have been painful.
“Mrs. Steele, I have come because I believe I owe you an apology.”
“An apology?” The other woman asked. Rachel thought she noticed guilt flash momentarily across Gretchen Steele’s face.
“I think I need to sit down. Do you mind?” Gretchen led Rachel into the front room, motioning for her to sit down in a high-backed chair, upholstered in a formal burgundy red-and-white print.
“Mrs. Steele, as I was saying, I really must apologize for my reprehensible behavior toward you. In addition to changing the dress size on your catalogue order for the Thorne wedding, I have been rude in your presence. And, I’m sorry to admit, I have also spoken about you harshly behind your back. Regardless of what you may have done to or said about me, I do not have the right to speak ill of you. As a Christian, God asks me to forgive, and that’s what I must do. I should have come to you long ago, before this got out of hand.” Rachel stopped and waited, unsure if she should rise to leave or not.
“What did you say about being a Christian? Are you implying I’m not a Christian?”
Rachel’s heart raced; she hadn’t been prepared for this. She thought Mrs. Steele would just rant and rave, asking her to leave. She silently asked for God’s words, and continued cautiously. “In the Gospel of Saint Matthew, Jesus says, ‘That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment.’ I knew when I read that and another scripture from Proverbs that I needed to apologize to you.”
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