Hope Reborn (29 page)

Before he met the novelist, Henry might have thrown in with Bell, but bless God, he’d been warned and had time to think it over. Millicent May—that’s who he wanted.

Above all else.

Shocked him the way she reacted when he told her, but then the poor lady’s soul suffered so much turmoil.

Draw her to Yourself, Lord. Make a way for us to be together. I trust You would not have brought her into my life only to take her away.

The rest of that day and deep into the night, he stayed in an attitude of prayer for his new love, voicing his pleas aloud whenever he found himself alone.

He woke the next morning with the shadows of a dream lurking in the corners of his mind’s eye. Like a cougar crouching in the brush, he sensed it, but couldn’t quite see the thing.

While he and New Blue made the morning rounds, the night vision dogged him. Several times, he almost saw it. Figured it had some significant meaning, but what?

And if God had a message for him.…

Why couldn’t he remember?

Then tracks of a lone rider crossing the Langford quelled all other thoughts. He reined left and cold trailed the intruder.

For better than an hour, Henry followed the tracks until they doubled back across the creek then lost them on the well traveled road that led to Clarksville. Had some drunk got lost?

Doubtful.

He ran the possibilities, but reached no good conclusion to suspend his belief that something fowl circled.

After a few words of warning to Levi and Wallace, he returned to the big house on the alert. Maybe Mammy had saved him some breakfast. Had May waited on him?

He grabbed a cold biscuit on the way through the empty kitchen. When was the last time he’d been there that Jean Paul’s mother wasn’t eluded him, if there ever had been such an event at all. He found the novelist in the library studying a piece of paper.

She looked up. “Good morning, where you been so early?”

“Someone crossed the Langford last night; I followed his tracks until they headed back to town.”

“Oh.”

“Reach under my desk, about an inch past the middle drawer.”

She smiled and did as told. “Why?”

“There’s a pistol there, if you ever need it.”

She jerked her hand back like he’d told her a rattler was hiding there instead of a Baby Paterson. She stared at him then moved her gaze over his shoulder. Tears welled.

“May? What’s wrong?”

Her bottom lip quivered. She looked away. He turned around. What had disturbed her to tears? On scrutinizing, he came upon a dark spot on the wall right where Sue’s picture used to hang. Was that a hole? He stepped closer and touched it. A chill washed over him.

His breath came hard. His heart pounded against his chest. His night vision came back like he just lived it. He faced her.

“Last night I had another dream.”

May closed her eyes. Had he really not seen the bullet hole until just now? She looked at him. “You did?”

“Saw a house, white, and bigger than this one. You and Chester played chess out on a side porch, but you were children. Maybe twelve? Him fourteen or so.”

A chill washed over her heart. “We played a lot of games back then. Were there blue shutters? Were there…” Shame faded her voice. “Blue… shutters?”

“He checkmated your king, and you slapped him.”

Tears flooded her eyes and blurred her vision. She couldn’t look at him and shook her head. How could he know that? How could he possibly have dreamed about that day?

“And he slapped you back.”

No! How much did he see?

“The commodore, just inside heard the argument and saw him slap you and came running out.”

“Stop!” She jumped to her feet. “You’ve been talking to Chester! And I don’t appreciate it one bit. You have no right. Liar! You didn’t dream this! There’s no way you could have. Chester told you, and I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.” She stormed toward the door.

He stepped toward her and caught her arm. “May, no. Your brother hasn’t said a word. I swear it.”

“And you didn’t know about me shooting Wallace’s pistol while you were gone off to New Orleans?”

“Wallace’s pistol? You’re the one shot that hole into the wall?” He smiled though not a big one. She might have slapped him if it had been any bigger than the slight grin. “I did not know that. Not until just now.”

“So then tell me! What else did you dream?”

He released her arm and stepped closer. “The commodore beat Chester to the ground then took to stomping him. You were crying and screaming for him to stop. Your mother came out and ran between him and your brother. He slapped her, told her get out of his way, but she wouldn’t. Kept begging him to go inside and calm down.”

She wilted against him, and he steadied her to the desk chair then sat her down. She hung her head.

“The commodore slapped her again, but she still refused, so he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her inside with her pleading for him to stop. He jerked her through his study and to their bedroom.”

She nodded, her heart suddenly cold, clad in iron. “What else? Did you see it all?” That Chester! Had he fallen under the man’s spell? How could he be such a turncoat? Her own brother.

“At first, fear froze you, but your mother’s screams with each slap pulled you to the commodore’s study. You opened his desk drawer and took out his dueling pistols, both of them, one in each hand, then marched to their room. You knew he kept both guns loaded, and he’d taught you how to shoot them.”

“Chester knew all this.”

He eased closer and stroked her hair. “You stood there in the door holding the pistols at your side. Your mother had stopped screaming. Unconscious, but he kept slapping her. You hollered for him to stop.”

She shook her head, but couldn’t mouth any words. Had he really seen it? She rested her head against his hip. But how?

“He laughed at you, but that isn’t why you shot him.”

She leaned back and looked him in the eyes. “Oh, yes! You know it all, don’t you? So why then? Tell me why! I want you to, you’re so smart. Know everything! I hate you! So then why did I kill my father, Mister Buckmeyer? Enlighten me. What did you see in your so-called dream?”

“The look in his eyes. He was enjoying himself, and you saw it. You knew that after he killed her, he’d kill Chester, too. Maybe even finish you off. And there was no one to stop him. No one but you. Oh, my darling, I’m so very sorry.”

Her head shook back and forth, silently she screamed no! No! But the cold metal around her heart melted. Henry had seen it. She burst into sobs.

He lifted her to her feet and held her in his arms. “It’s all right, sweet May, go ahead and cry. My poor sweet darling. All this time.”

He saw it. Knew why she had to shoot the commodore. “Oh, Henry. Henry! I killed both of them. But how did you…?” She melted into him and wept from the depths of her soul.

He held her tight and close. “Sweetheart, the Lord showed me all this. Can’t you believe it, May? He loves you so very much and longs to set you free, give you real peace.”

Pushing back, she glared into his eyes. “No! There cannot be a God! No loving Creator would ever let a little girl go through what I had to.”

“Adam and Eve were created perfect. The earth was perfect. It was their sin that brought evil into the world. But Father God still loved man so much, He made a Way for us to come to Him again, be redeemed through His Son Jesus. God did not do this to you; the commodore’s evil choices brought you to that day. The Lord made a way for you to escape.”

She buried her head into his chest. “Are you right? Could you be? Is there really a loving Father up there?” He’d showed Henry that Governor Bell was coming, and now, he’d showed him something no one—not even Chester—knew. She’d never told him about the look in the commodore’s eyes.

That evil that plagued her dreams and held her tongue.

“What do I do, Henry? How do I recompense my sins? I’ve murdered, killed another human being. How can God still love me?”

He rocked her in his arms then slipped into the chair with her on his lap and looked into her eyes. “God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son so that whoever would believe in Him would not perish, but have everlasting life.”

That’s all, just believe? That was all that was required? “But how do I become a Christian? It can’t be so simple. What must I do?”

“We believe that through the grace—the unearned favor—of the Lord Jesus Christ, we are saved. Believe on Him. Confess with your mouth and believe in your heart that God the Father raised Him from the dead after He died on the cross to pay the debt you owed, and you will be saved. It is that simple, my love. Just that simple.”

“I want to.”

He tilted her chin up toward him. “Will you pray with me?’

She wanted to. She wanted peace. She wanted to quit fighting and carrying the burden of her sin. She wanted to belong to this wonderful man. With tears still running down her cheeks, she nodded. “Yes, I will.”

“Father God, thank You for Your mercy and grace.” He paused and she repeated after him. “I have sinned and I am so sorry, Lord. Please forgive me.”

She repeated his words. Her heart beat slowed, and something warm came over her, something so clean and precious. Henry was waiting again. What had he just said? Oh, yes. “Cleanse my heart by the Blood of Your Son and take all my burdens and cares.”

“I confess that Christ is Lord and give Him my heart and my life.”

The warmth spread throughout her. Such a peace that she’d never known, not in her whole lifetime, washed over her in waves. She looked up into his face. It almost glowed. “He’s doing it! He’s really doing it! He forgives me, Henry.”

She burst into fresh sobs. “I confess! Jesus is Lord, and I do give Him my life and my heart! Oh, Henry, Isn’t it wonderful?” She leaned her cheek against his and hugged him. She never wanted to get up.

Between gasps, she pushed back, twisted a bit then held his face, a hand on each side.  “Can we get married now?”

“Yes, my love. Will you marry me?”

She sniffed then grinned. “Yes, thank you for finally asking.”

For a too many beats of her heart, she snuggled in. May Meriwether—the bride. Oh the joy! But best of all, she was saved. Oh, how wonderful to be clean. Why she had been so obstinate?

The clock struck its louder hourly chime. Right after the tenth and last metallic bong, a light rap sounded on the door.

“Daddy?”

May kissed him hard on his mouth then jumped up and whispered “Mary Rachel!” She went to wiping her eyes and face to make herself more presentable. What would she think? He never shut the door when she was in there before!

He stood, nodded May back into the chair, then strolled to the door and opened it. “What is it, baby?”

The girl leaned close and said something to her father.

“Sure, baby, send him in.”

She stuck her head further in and nodded, smiling. “Good Morning, Miss May.”

“Yes, it is. Actually, it’s the most wonderful of mornings.”

Mary Rachel smiled, looked like she wanted to ask, but held a finger up. “I’ll be right back.”

Henry faced her. “Seems she has a suitor who wants a word with us.”

“Oh, want me to go somewhere?”

“No, ma’am, not at all. You’re on the verge of being her mother. Stay.”

She liked the sound of that, the way he said us. And on the verge, too. How close exactly was she? She’d always dreamed of a big wedding, with a fancy dress and like a thousand adoring well wishers cheering her on, but none of that mattered. Not now. All she wanted stood right there in front of her.

Shortly, Mary Rachel ushered a nice-looking young man into the room. “Miss May, this is Caleb Wheeler. Daddy, you remember him, right?”

“Of course.”

She smiled. “Caleb, this is our good friend May Meriwether, the novelist.”

The young man nodded at May then extended his hand to Henry who took it and shook. “Good to see you, son.” He looked at his not-so-baby girl. “Excuse us, Mary Rachel.”

At first, she didn’t move. Opened her mouth then didn’t say anything, just backed out. “Yes, sir.”

Henry closed the door then nodded to the right hand wingback. “Have a seat, Caleb.” Henry took the opposite one. “So Mary Rachel tells me you want a word with us?”