Hearts Aglow (32 page)
“I was hopin’ to talk to you for a minute,” Rob told Mara. He’d never seen her more beautiful. She’d pinned her dark hair high atop her head, and he longed to pull out the pins and watch it cascade down her back. Though completely improper, he couldn’t deny the thought was there.
She smiled and moved closer. “I would be happy to hear what you have to say.”
“I don’t reckon I know quite how you’ll feel about this, but I figure it’s best iffen I just say the words and then we can talk about ’em.”
“Seems reasonable to me,” she replied.
He noticed the necklace she wore. It was a small gold cross – a reminder of her faith and the sacrifice that was made by Jesus. It reminded Rob, too, of what he’d come to say.
“I’m gonna be leavin’ in two days. I feel that God wants me to go to Houston – to the seminary there. I reckon it may seem strange, but I believe God wants me to be a preacher.”
She smiled. “It doesn’t seem strange at all, Mr. Vandermark.”
He looked at her with great curiosity. “It don’t?”
Mara shook her head. “In my prayers for you, I felt certain this was the decision you would make. Later, I cornered my father and spoke with him. He told me that he’d shared with you about the seminary his friend runs in Houston. It seems a very good place for you.”
“And you aren’t upset with me? I mean, what with . . . well, what you said . . . and . . . ” Rob felt helpless to put it all in words. He wanted to challenge her comment – to ask her how she was so certain he was the one she would marry when now he was planning to up and leave.
“How could I fault a man for following after God’s heart?” She glanced up, and Rob did likewise. Overhead the night skies were nearly as bright as day, lit by the full moon. “God has a plan and purpose for each of us. I would want only that you follow His direction for you.”
“But what about us?”
She turned her gaze to his face. “It all works quite perfectly. You see, I always knew I would marry a preacher. The fact that you’ve only now come to this decision may seem surprising to you, but not to me.”
“How is it that you knew these things?” he asked. “I reckon I’m hearin’ God more than ever. I see things in my mind that reflect things He’s showin’ me through His Word. But you’ve acted like you’ve known about us since before you even got here.”
She laughed lightly. “I suppose I have – at least, in part. I knew since I was young that God wanted me to be a preacher’s wife. I have done everything in my power to work toward that day. I’ve studied the Word of God and obtained my education in a school run by the church. Everything about my life has revolved around learning to be a helpful mate to a pastor. When I felt the time was right to come and help my father for the purpose of furthering my training, God laid it on my heart that I would meet my husband here – that he might not seem at first like the man God was bringing into my life, but that I should trust and wait upon the Lord.”
Rob shook his head. “That’s mighty amazin’. I can’t help but feel the hair on my neck give rise.”
She nodded. “I felt the same way when I first met you. I knew that we would one day be together. I suppose that sounds very presumptuous, but it’s the truth. I’m not prideful in this – merely firm in my faith. If God wants this marriage to take place, it will.”
He reached out and put his hand on her cheek. “I will come back to you a better man. I promise that. Will you promise to wait for me?”
She surprised him by touching her hand to his cheek. “I will wait, just as I’ve been waiting. I am yours, Robrecht Vandermark. I will always belong to you.”
Rob had been gone only three days when word came that a terrible storm had hit the Gulf Coast. There was no way of telling exactly how powerful the hurricane was, but the information given the town of Perkinsville suggested it might well bring rain and wind their way.
“Arjan said the depot master said the telegram was brief but to the point. The storm looks to be heading this direction and it is still quite powerful. They’re to get the trains north and out of harm’s way,” Mother declared.
“Did they say where the storm hit land?” Deborah asked. She couldn’t help but think of Christopher and his brother in Indianola.
“No. Just that it hit and was moving fast. I’ll feel better if we take precautions,” Mother told Deborah. “I know Arjan thought me silly for wanting those shutters. I can still hear him saying that there wasn’t another house in all of Perkinsville with such luxuries.”
“He ought to be glad for them now,” Deborah replied. “I remember once before when we had to replace nearly every window on the south side after a hail and windstorm.”
“Oh, I know he’s glad for them now.”
Deborah helped her mother begin the task of closing the shutters. Uncle Arjan caught the train to the logging camp, and G.W.was busy securing the livestock and outbuildings. Lizzie and Sissy went to work preparing lunch.
The waiting was always the hardest part. The storm would never give them as much grief here as it did on the coast, but they could still experience tornadoes and wind damage, harming areas that weren’t in the path of the original storm.
“Let’s put Lula and her pups on the back porch,” Mother told G.W. “That should keep them safe enough.” G.W. nodded and headed back outside.
“I’ll get the last of the second-floor shutters,” Deborah told her mother. She hurried upstairs and went to the far end bedrooms first. The windows, being new, opened easily and Deborah was able to lean out and draw the shutters together without any trouble. As she progressed to the windows in the older part of the house, however, Deborah encountered more difficulty. She soaped a couple of the window’s tracks to ease the tension; growing humidity had swelled the wood a bit and made for a tighter fit. At last she finished up in her own bedroom, grateful to have the task completed. The coming storm filled her with a sense of dread.
Christopher was in Indianola on the Matagorda Bay. While Deborah had no way of knowing exactly what the storm would do, she knew Christopher was at risk, simply because he was now on the coast. What if there had been no warning for him?
“Are you all right?” Lizzie asked from the doorway.
Deborah turned and met her friend’s worried expression. “I’m afraid for Christopher. He’s in Indianola, or I presume he’s still there. Perhaps the trial has already taken place and he’s long gone. I have no hope of knowing.”
“I’m sorry. I know that must grieve you.”
“It’s the waiting and the not knowing,” Deborah replied. She moved across the room and opened a blanket chest. “I know I must give it over to the Lord, but it’s so hard.”
“Out of your control, eh?”
Lizzie’s comment didn’t offend her; Deborah knew her friend was right. Taking a stack of blankets from the chest, Deborah straightened. “I suppose I always feel better when I have some hand in the solution.” She shook her head. “All of my life I’ve been like that.”
“Taking charge isn’t always a bad thing, Deborah, but sometimes it’s best to let others handle their messes. God will guide Christopher.”
“I know He will.” She let out a heavy sigh and shifted the bedding. “I just wish I could know what has happened. It’s a terrible thing to be here safe and sound, knowing that Christopher and his brother might well be injured or even dead.”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Lizzie reminded her. “Give it over to God. He has a plan in all of this, and like you used to tell me, His plan is always better than those we have for ourselves.”
Deborah tried to let the words calm her spirit. “I shall continue to pray and hope for the best.”
“Do you need help with the blankets?”
“No,” Deborah replied. “Mother wants them in the extra bedrooms. The loggers will come and stay here until the storm passes. It wouldn’t do for them to live in the tents during such a time.”
“No, I can’t imagine staying there in good weather, much less bad.” Lizzie came to Deborah and smiled. “God is in control of everything. Here . . . in Indianola . . . in the middle of the storm, itself. He will see you through this. Dr. Clayton, too.”
Deborah tried to take solace in Lizzie’s words. “I know you’re right. I know there is nothing I can do, but oh, how I wish it could be otherwise.”
By noon the skies darkened and the air hung heavy, but so far there were no other signs of the storm. Deborah hugged herself and rubbed her arms as if chilled. She felt so anxious, and yet nothing had changed. The storm was not here – perhaps would never come – but she could sense the possibility of it, and that proved enough to make her uncomfortable.
Her life felt the same way right now. She could see the threat of turmoil on the horizon – feel the tension that came with the uncertainty – yet she was perfectly safe. Why couldn’t she just rest in that?
“Would you help me make corn bread?” Mother asked.
Deborah put away the last of the dinner dishes before answering. “Of course. Are we making extra, in case the weather turns destructive?”
“Yes. I thought it would be a good idea. Arjan is concerned that we may lose a number of trees if the winds pick up. The turpentine harvest always weakens them, you know. If that happens, they’ll have to strike camp where they’re working now and head farther away to harvest any fallen pines. He wants to have plenty of provisions to take with them if that happens.”
Sissy had already been hard at work on baking corn bread, but she happily relinquished the task to Euphanel and Deborah in order to help Lizzie with the children. By late afternoon, enough corn bread sat cooling that the men could easily be gone a week without needing additional provisions. “We have plenty of hams they can take with them, too,” Mother said, bringing in a wooden crate. “Let’s put the bread into the cloth sacks we saved and load it all in this crate to keep it from crumbling too bad. Don’t bother to cut it into squares; the fellas can take care of that themselves.”
The sweltering temperatures of the summer kitchen left Deborah damp with sweat. She assembled the sacks of corn bread while her mother checked the stew she’d prepared for supper. The first drops of rain began pelting the window as Deborah loaded the last of the bread.
“I guess it’s starting,” Mother said, looking out the door.
Joining her mother, Deborah watched the storm move in with thick and swirling clouds. The wind picked up, driving the rain down a little harder. Still, there was no real relief from the heat. “I guess we’d best get things into the house.”
Lizzie came out the side door about that time. “Do you need help?”
Mother motioned her over to them. “You and Deborah take the bread in, and I’ll get the stew for our supper. G.W. has already seen to bringing in some of the hams from the smokehouse.”
Lizzie and Deborah each took an end of the crate and lifted. “Who knew corn bread could be so heavy,” Lizzie said with a grunt.
By the time they had secured everything in the main house, the rain was beating down in earnest. Mother paced the floor until Arjan showed up with the loggers.
“I feel better knowing we’ll all be under one roof,” she said as the men started to file in, dripping wet.
Deborah handed out towels and couldn’t help but smile at her mother’s comment.
That must have been how Noah felt as he gathered
his family in the ark.
The idea gave her a moment of amusement as she imagined their house turning into a large ship and sailing away.
“I ain’t seen you smile since Dr. Clayton went away,” G.W. said, coming alongside her.
“There hasn’t been a whole lot to smile about. Still isn’t, what with the uncertainty of this storm.”
“Can’t do anythin’ more about the storm. As for the doc, I can’t imagine he’ll stay away long – not when I remember how he looked at you. He’s just as gone over you as you are with him.”
Deborah shrugged. “I thought so, too. Now I’m not so sure.” She looked at her brother. “I can understand better than anyone the need to help your family. He knows that. But there were still so many secrets between us. I always felt like he was hiding parts of himself from me.”
“Why do you reckon he would do that?” G.W. asked.
“I think . . . perhaps Christopher has fears.”
G.W. looked at her oddly. “Fears of what?”
“Girls, would you set the table for supper?” Mother asked as she passed by. “Put out ten extra places.”
“Of course, Mother.” Giving her brother a shrug, Deborah followed Lizzie into the dining room and took out the plates and silver from the sideboard.
“What were you and G.W. talking about?” Lizzie questioned.
“He asked me about Christopher. The talk led to why I felt Christopher remained so guarded with me.”
“And what conclusion did you arrive at?” Lizzie asked, arranging silver at each place setting.
“I think he was afraid of my reaction to the truth. Maybe he’s afraid that if I know the details about him or his family, I’ll want nothing more to do with him. After he told me about his brother’s murder trial and the fact that two other brothers were in jail for robbery, he looked at me as if expecting me to flee any second.”
Deborah paused for a moment to count the place settings. She needed two more and went to the sideboard for additional plates. “I haven’t told anyone this, but when I read the letter asking him to come and help his brother, there was something that was most curious. His brother didn’t have the same last name. Instead of Clayton, his given name was Kelleher.”
