A Daughter's Quest (19 page)

Mary set her cup down and gave Constance her full attention. “I can see it’s important to you. What happened?”

Constance studied the design worked into the tablecloth before answering, but her thoughts weren’t on the pattern. She was trying to formulate the words into a sensible explanation.

“Hans didn’t find me immediately. He saw the holes and piles of dirt beside them. When I came back from the spring, he stood near the edge of the bluff talking to God.”

“That sounds like Hans.” Mary nodded. “He likes to seek the Lord about anything that bothers him. So what did he say?”

Constance clasped her hands together on the tabletop. “It’s not so much what he said exactly. It’s more the way he said things. … I know this doesn’t make any sense, but I’ve never heard anyone talk to God that way. His head wasn’t bowed, and he sounded just the same as he would talking to Jackson or us.”

“That’s because he was talking to his best friend…Jesus.” Mary turned concerned eyes toward her. “Constance, what do you believe about God?”

What a surprising question. No one had ever asked her anything like that. What did she believe about God?

She stared out the window and watched two birds circling around while building a nest in the branches of the tree. One would go down and retrieve some grass; the other went for tiny twigs; then they both returned to the bower. She needed something specific, like the purpose the birds had to provide shelter for their eggs. Instead, her thoughts flew around without landing.

Mary waited patiently, allowing her to gather her scattered thoughts.

“I know that God created the world and all that’s in it.”

“That’s a start.” Mary smiled at her. “What else?”

Finally, things started to settle into a pattern. “He loves us, and He sent Jesus to die for our sins. Now they’re both in heaven, and when we die, we’ll go to be with God. Right?”

Mary picked up her spoon and stirred her cooling tea.

“That’s right as far as it goes. Have you ever asked Jesus to save you from your sins?”

Constance nodded. “When I was nine years old.” She remembered the brush arbor meeting years before. What the evangelist said finally made sense to her. She had asked her mother to walk to the front with her, and everyone had come after the service to welcome her into the family of God.

“Have you studied the Scriptures and grown in your faith since that time?”

Mary’s question made her squirm in the chair. “We went to church when we could get there, but the circuit-riding preacher only came maybe once a month. The other Sundays, we had all-day singings with dinner on the grounds. I really like the singings and the fellowship of sharing the meal with neighbors.”

Two grooves formed between Mary’s brows. “Do you read your Bible and commune with Jesus?”

“I read Mother’s Bible until it fell apart.” Constance traced the pattern in the tablecloth with her finger to keep from seeing the pity she imagined in Mary’s eyes.

“We can take care of that. I’ll give you an extra one we have. I think I know what your problem is.” Mary sounded decisive.

Constance looked up. “What is my problem?”

“No one has ever told you that you can have a close relationship with Jesus right now, have they?” Her eyes probed deep inside Constance, exposing her heart.

“I’m not sure what that means.”

Mary took a moment as if gathering her thoughts, too. “When Jesus went back to heaven, He left his Holy Ghost with us. And He wants to be a part of our everyday lives. He wants to be the Lord of our lives and help us with everything we face. Does that make any sense to you?”

Constance got up and walked over to the window. The bright sunlight and beauty all around reminded her that God loved her through His creation. Could He really want to take part in everything in her life? Didn’t He have enough to take care of? How would it change what happened to her?

She turned back to look at Mary. “I think I understand what you’re telling me, but how does that work?”

“What happens when you pray now?” Mary’s question didn’t answer hers.

“Well, I ask God for strength and help, then hope everything will be okay. Many times it isn’t.”

Mary came to stand beside her. “You talk to Him way up in heaven, you mean?”

Constance nodded. “How do you pray?”

Mary’s smile lit the room. “I imagine I pray much like Hans did. Jesus is my friend. He listens to me, and I listen to Him. He really cares about my life.”

One thing Mary said caught Constance’s attention. “What do you mean, you listen to Him?”

A faraway look came over Mary’s face. “Sometimes, He talks to me through Scripture. Other times, He drops thoughts and assurances into my heart. He even speaks to me through Jackson, both as my husband and as my pastor. I have a personal relationship with Him. When you ask Him to direct your life, He will give you peace in your heart. The Bible talks about a peace that passeth understanding. If I’m not certain about whether He wants me to do something, I see if I have a peace about it.”

Constance sat back down and took a sip of her stone-cold tea. At least it wet her throat, which was dry from all the talking.

“So how do I do that?”

Mary studied her intently for a moment. “You just pray and ask Him to show you what He wants you to do in every situation and relationship you face. He’s a gentleman. He won’t force you to involve Him in your daily life and do what He wants.”

A gentleman
. Maybe that’s why Hans was such a gentleman. He tried to treat others as Jesus did. “I’d like that, but I’m not sure exactly what to say or how to say it.”

Mary sat down across the table from her and reached to take her hands. “You just talk to Him as you would talk to me. Tell Him what’s in your heart. If you want me to, I can say a phrase, and if you agree, you can repeat it.”

Finally, Constance didn’t feel as if she were wandering through a strange forest without a map or compass. “I’d like that. Should I bow my head?”

“If you want to, but your head doesn’t have to be bowed to talk to Him.”

Constance decided she wanted to, because she was sure this would be a sacred time. A time she would want to remember forever.

“Jesus, I ask You to lead me through my life.”

Constance thought about this sentence, then repeated it.

“I want You to take part in everything I do and show me how You want me to live.”

This time Constance repeated the words immediately.

“Thank You for loving me and wanting to have a deeper relationship with me.”

These words tumbled from Constance’s heart as well as her mouth, and something happened. She could feel the presence of Jesus so strong that it invaded every part of her. Tears became a waterfall down her cheeks. Love filled every part of her heart. More love than she had ever known existed. She bowed silently before the overwhelming presence, basking in Him. All her life, she had wanted this, but she hadn’t known exactly what it was that she was looking for.

She wondered why no one had ever told her about it. Maybe someone had, and she hadn’t understood what they were talking about.

Constance wanted to share it with everyone in the world, but for right now, she would just spend time with Him, letting Him establish His peace and love in her heart.

When Hans went to the boardinghouse for supper, he could hardly wait to see Constance. Spending most of three days this week with her made him miss her when they were apart.
Lord, what’s going on here?

Mrs. Barker welcomed him to the table, but he didn’t see Constance. He glanced toward the doorway to the kitchen as she came through, carrying a large platter of fried chicken. One of his favorites. His stomach gave a loud growl in response to the fragrance that filled the room.

Mrs. Barker cut her eyes toward him and grinned. “So, Hans, did you miss my cooking while you were away?”

“Ja.”

He turned his smile toward Constance as she took the seat beside him. Too bad she wasn’t across from him as she had been in Camden Junction. Something looked different about her. He couldn’t decide what. As usual, wisps of hair that weren’t confined into the bun at the base of her neck framed her face. Her eyes were a different thing altogether. They sparkled with an inner light that intensified the golden flecks. Why had he never noticed this before?

Hans had spent a lot of time studying Constance as she sat across from him at the Carters’ house. He shouldn’t have missed anything this startling.

“So, Constance.” He had to clear his throat to dislodge a lump. “Now that you’ve found out everything you needed to find, will you go home to Arkansas, or will you stay in Iowa?”

She looked up from putting food on her plate and paused with the spoon in her hand. She took a moment to answer. “I really like Browning City.”

Good. That’s what he wanted to hear.

“Even though I miss the mountains, the view from the bluff over the Mississippi River is almost as good.” She put the spoon back in the bowl and passed it to him.

He heaped mashed potatoes on his plate, ready to add the delicious cream gravy that was one of Mrs. Barker’s specialties.

“I’ve made a lot of friends here.” Constance glanced around the table at each one there. “More than I had back home.”

Hans passed the gravy boat to Thomas and nearly dropped it. Hans wiped his sweaty palms along his pant legs. Paper crinkled in his pocket.

“I forgot.” He reached into his front pocket and extracted an envelope. “When I was at the post office, Hiram asked if I would be seeing you this evening. Wanted me to give this to you.” He handed the letter to Constance. “Looks like it came from Arkansas.”

Constance nodded and stuck the letter in the pocket of her apron.

After supper, he asked if she wanted to go for a walk before it got too dark. She glanced toward her employer and started to shake her head.

“You go ahead, Constance.” Mrs. Barker made a shooing motion with both hands. “You did most of supper for me, so I’ll do the dishes.”

They stepped out into the mellow twilight. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves on the trees, and the chirping of birds settling down on their nests accompanied the symphony of crickets and frogs. Hans always liked this time of evening, and today he would enjoy it even more because he was spending it with Constance.

When they walked down the street in the quiet neighborhood, their shoulders almost touched. He felt her presence beside him as a tangible connection.

“Didn’t you want to see what the letter said?” He smiled down at her, thinking that if he had his arm around her, she would fit just right against his side.

“I took a peek when I removed my apron. The Smiths are buying my farm. They’ll send all my personal possessions in a crate and the money in a strongbox on the stage.”

He walked silently for a few steps, then stopped beneath the branches of a cottonwood tree, facing Constance. “Does that mean that you don’t have any ties back there now?”

When she turned her gaze up to connect with his, the new sparkle shone, even in the shadows. “Yes, it does. I’m now a permanent part of Browning City society.” She smiled, lighting the whole area around them with the force of it.

That smile warmed Hans all the way through. He could get used to experiencing that feeling. He wondered what she would do if he smoothed his fingers across her cheek. His hand ached to do that very thing.

After he left Constance at the boardinghouse, Hans started toward his lonely quarters behind the smithy. It had never seemed that way before Constance came to town. He stopped and stared up at the twinkling lights in the sky. The full moon bathed everything in a glistening glow.

“Lord, something’s different about Constance. Does it have anything to do with You?” He waited and listened for the still small voice that whispered a quiet
yes
into his heart. “Is she the woman You created for me? Am I supposed to court her?”

Peace descended deeper inside him, and he felt as though he was on the road that God had laid out for him since the beginning of time. He would court her, but first he had to do one thing.

The next morning after he fixed a quiet breakfast for himself, Hans headed straight to the office of the county tax collector. The man had an office in Browning City.

“What can I do for you, Hans?” William Lawrence stood up from the chair behind a large desk and held out his hand. “All your taxes have been paid.”

Hans shook hands and nodded. “Ja, I know. I wanted to check on the Mitchell farm. Andrew said the parents were really behind on their taxes.”

Mr. Lawrence clucked his tongue. “It’s a sad situation. I had hoped that when the boys returned, they would be able to help their parents. But it didn’t happen.”

“Are there any other heirs?” Hans hoped not.

“None that we’ve been able to find.” The man sat back down and took a ledger from one of the drawers in his desk. He opened it and ran his finger down the page. “It’s scheduled to be in the auction next month, sold for back taxes.”

Hans tried not to smile at someone else’s difficulty. “Would it be possible for me to pay all the back taxes and redeem the property before the auction?”