Hope Rekindled (28 page)

“Oh, Sis?”

She turned back to face him. With a rise of her brow she questioned him without a word.

“You use my full name again, and I’m gonna tell doc about the time you tried to hatch that nest of eggs by sittin’ on them. Then I’m gonna tell him about the time—”

She held up her hand. “Point taken, G.W. It won’t happen again.”

Nearly a week later, Jael was happy to see a noticeable change in the town. The remaining debris from the mill site had been cleaned up and cleared away. Zed Perkins had returned to town, along with two of his sons, and with them came several other men from Lufkin. Apparently, Arjan Vandermark had found Zed before he and Rachel had even received the telegram Jael had sent. Zed was more than happy to return to town, and happier still when her father explained that he intended to take over Stuart’s supervision of the town and send his son-in-law back to Houston. At least that was the plan.

Jael tried not to think about Stuart. She knew he was unhappy, being forced to adhere to the demands she and her father had given him. He’d barely said two words to her on any given day that week, although she’d heard more than one yelling match between her father and Stuart behind closed doors. He’d made it clear that he was enraged at being ordered about. He accused her father of going behind his back and spending money that should have been spent elsewhere. Jael had been proud of her father’s willingness to stand his ground, however. He was no pauper, and in his own right, he could very nearly match Stuart’s financial success. He, however, could boast that his money had been earned—something that was now more respected than it used to be. Stuart felt his wealth was more impressive because he’d inherited it, even if it came by deception and cruelty.

Jael made her way to the commissary and walked in to find several black women helping to put away supplies. Jude Greeley was telling one woman where to place the cast-iron pots while another waited patiently to be shown what to do with a box of thread.

“This is certainly a fine change,” she said as Jude pointed the last woman in the right direction.

“It is indeed. Reminds me of when we first set up business, only then it was just the missus and me puttin’ away stock. It’s good to see the place up and runnin’ again.”

“There will be a great many more people coming back to Perkinsville,” she told him. “My father and Mr. Perkins intend to see the mill operating, at least in part, by the middle of next week.”

“I heard that, as well, Mrs. Albright. What was it that changed your husband’s mind?”

Jael smiled. “I suppose he saw the value in moving forward.”

“Jael!”

She turned to find Deborah rushing across the store. “I can scarce believe my good fortune. I had heard you were far to the north at the logging camp.” She embraced Deborah. “Goodness, but you’re thin as a rail.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever worked harder in my life,” Deborah said with a laugh. “G.W. and I came down to the house to see how Mother and Sissy were doing. We heard the supplies had come into the store and thought to take a load back up with us.”

“You look exhausted,” Jael said, taking Deborah aside, “but how marvelous that Stuart finally honored his contract.”

“He honored it all right. Honored it with his demand that we meet an impossible goal by June twentieth or he’ll sue us and take our land.” Deborah frowned. “Hardly a victory.”

Jael could hardly believe what she was hearing. “I don’t understand.”

Deborah cocked her head to one side. “Don’t you know?”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about.”

“Stuart demanded the full quota of logs owed him by Vandermark Logging—the amount we would have provided from the time the mill burned until now.”

“How can that be legal?” she asked in disbelief.

“It’s within his rights, despite the absurdity of his demands. As usual, he’s found a way to manipulate the legal aspects to his benefit—and our detriment. Lizzie’s father told us that Stuart apparently has several judges eating out of his hand. He has an entire team of lawyers who do his bidding, and apparently owns the bank—or at least some of their people—where Vandermark Logging has borrowed.”

Jael felt her ire rise. “I knew it was too good to be true. Stuart has been far too quiet. I demanded he tear up the contract with Vandermark Logging, but he said he had a better idea—he would get you back in business. My father even thought it sounded like a worthy idea.”

“It would be, except for the deadline and quota of logs.” Deborah shook her head. “We’ve hired on as many men as want work and have experience. The job is getting done, but we still don’t know that we can meet Stuart’s demands.”

“Leave that to me.”

“What can you possibly do?”

She wasn’t exactly sure. She could only push Stuart so far, but given all that he’d done, Jael figured he still owed her. “I’ll do what I can. When is the deadline?”

“Monday the twentieth. We’re to have the logs stockpiled by the tracks or already delivered here to the mill. I’m not sure Stuart understands exactly how much ground that’s going to take up, but I figure that’s his concern.”

“And it will be the least of them.” Jael took hold of Deborah’s arm. “I’ll speak to Father. He may have additional ideas.”

“Thank you. You have been a good friend to me.” Deborah caught sight of the clock as it chimed two. “I need to run. G.W. and I have to get the wagon loaded and delivered yet this afternoon.” She leaned forward and kissed Jael on the cheek.

Jael watched her friend head to the counter and contemplated what she should do. She thought about just confronting Stuart and decided against it. She would talk to her father first. He had proven himself more than capable of handling Stuart and the business of Perkinsville’s rebirth.

Deborah awoke Sunday morning to the sound of rain pelting the tent. Thunder rumbled overhead and left her feeling more discouraged than she’d thought possible. The summer storms were wreaking havoc on their ability to harvest trees. Ever since the week before when she’d run into Jael at the commissary, the weather had been unpredictable. There had been no word from Jael or her father, not to mention Stuart. Deborah had hoped that one of them would arrive to say the deadline was extended—especially since it had rained off and on most every day.

Christopher stirred, but he was still asleep. She smiled and scooted closer to her husband. What would they do if the deadline wasn’t met? Would Stuart really find a way to take their land? She sighed. Why were there no answers?

Christopher opened his eyes and smiled. “What time is it?”

Lightning flashed and thunder boomed right behind it. Deborah wanted to bury herself in her husband’s protective embrace. The storm was apparently right on top of them. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t leave the tent.”

He held her tight. “Pity.”

“That was exactly my thought,” she said, giggling.

“I’ve got things pretty well figured out now,” Christopher declared.

She looked at him oddly. “What things?”

“Well, I now know that I don’t want to be a logger. I don’t want to work with mules, and I definitely prefer houses to tents.”

“I’m glad, because I’m of the same mind. My back is sore from sleeping on the ground.”

He slid his hand down to the small of her back and rubbed it gently. “I found myself wishing for one of the infirmary cots.”

The rain grew heavier and beat out a rhythmic beat on the canvas tent. “I’m glad I left the lids off all the pots. That rain-water will come in handy,” Deborah said, snuggling close.

After a few moments of silence, Christopher sighed. “The deadline is tomorrow.”

She leaned up on her elbow. Doubt and worry etched her husband’s features. “I know. I was thinking about that before you woke up.”

“We aren’t doing too bad,” he added.

“We don’t have enough to meet the quota,” she reminded him. “I doubt Stuart is going to give us an extension. Jael had thought she could help, but I’m guessing that was just wishful thinking. Otherwise we would surely have heard something by now.”

The wind picked up and pummeled the tent walls. Deborah dropped again to the crook of Christopher’s arm. “I hope the storm will pass quickly.”

“Arjan said the storms have been unusual for this time of year.”

“Well, at least this many in a row and this strong,” Deborah agreed. The fury of the weather kept them from working in any consistent fashion. “Just when I thought we had a chance . . .”

“Hey, that doesn’t sound like my ever-optimistic wife,” Christopher said, gently stroking her cheek. “You aren’t giving up, are you?”

“I don’t want to give up, but . . . I feel depleted of hope.” Lightning illuminated their tent. The thunder seemed to rumble the ground around them. Deborah shuddered. “I’ve never had to be out in a storm like this. I’m afraid.”

“Don’t be,” he said. “We’re going to make it through this.” He grinned and placed a kiss on her nose. “I kind of like being here with you. It’s not the wedding trip I would have planned for us, but I’m content. I think I will always be content, so long as you’re at my side.”

The storm inside Deborah began to abate, even as the one raging around them lessened. Nestling down in her husband’s arms, she listened as the storm began to slowly move off. Little by little the rain diminished to a gentle rhythm as the storm played out. In the distance, she heard someone singing and smiled.

It was Lizzie. The tune was more than a little familiar, the words so very appropriate for the moment.

“ ‘The raging storms may round us beat,’ ” Lizzie sang, “ ‘a shelter in the time of storm. We’ll never leave our safe retreat, a shelter in the time of storm.’ ” Deborah couldn’t help but smile. It was a fairly new hymn that her mother had found for the sacred-harp singing. Deborah felt peace wash over her as Lizzie’s voice lingered in the air.

“ ‘O Rock divine, O Refuge dear, a shelter in the time of storm. Be thou our helper ever near, a shelter in the time of storm.’ ”

T
he storm dissipated and the warmth of summer returned. The sun steamed the air, making everything feel heavy and sticky. Since it was later than usual, Deborah decided to do what she could to hurry breakfast. Taking dry wood from the tent, she worked quickly to get the fire going. Despite having been sheltered, the wood was still rather damp and the fire didn’t want to catch. Coaxing it with dried bits of pine straw, Deborah finally established a tiny, but growing, flame. She soon had the fire built up and burning nicely.

Lizzie brought two coffeepots to hang over the fire. “I’ll get some water on to boil.”

“Thanks. I’ll start slicing the ham.”

The others emerged from their tents, rather like she imagined Noah and his family had from the ark. They looked hopeful, but hesitant.

“Breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes,” Deborah told them as Lizzie put a large kettle of water on beside the coffee and threw more logs onto the fire.

G.W. pulled up his suspenders as he walked toward the women. “Lizzie and I talked about it last night and plan to go home after the Sunday service. We’re missin’ the little ones, and I reckon Ma could use the rest. Woulda headed there last night, ’cept for that storm.”

“I’m sure Mama didn’t mind. She loves those babies,” Deborah replied, focusing her attention back on cutting the ham. She figured there would be at least twenty of them for breakfast. When they’d finished working near eleven-thirty the night before, many of the men had decided to ride to Lufkin with what little pay Arjan could amass. Those who remained were mostly young men who had come west looking to make their fortune, only to find that life on the frontier didn’t come easy. Arjan had promised each a bonus if he would willingly work for no pay until the twentieth. Most had originally agreed, but after a week of battling the weather, over half of the men had decided to head to where they could get a hot bath and a comfortable bed. Deborah could only wonder if they’d made it home ahead of the storm.

“I figure with the deadline loomin’ over us tomorrow, Lizzie and you might as well stay home anyway. Either we’ll make the number or we won’t. No need to keep you gals workin’ here,” G.W. said. “The train will be haulin’ in logs all day and there’s nothin’ you can do to help with that.”

“We can still cook and clean,” Deborah replied. “Lizzie can stay home and maybe Mama would like to join us here.”

Lizzie returned to put two more coffeepots over the fire before checking the water in the pot. “It won’t be long before it’s boiling.”

“It would do us all some good to go home,” Arjan declared, joining them. “We could enjoy a nice restful Sabbath there just as well as here.”

“That would be fine by me,” Deborah agreed. “But I plan to return in the morning. If Christopher’s going to work here, then I am, too.”

“I think that’s just fine, but you’d both better be willin’ to take your pay, just like the others.” Arjan grinned and gave Deborah a wink.

Deborah heard movement behind her and saw that her husband had finally moved to join them. “What do you think?” she asked Christopher, who sort of duck walked out of the tent.

“About what?” He straightened and grimaced. “I think the ground is getting harder.”

She laughed. “Arjan was just suggesting we all head home for the day after breakfast. So many of the men left last night for their homes in Lufkin. Those that remain can come to the house and enjoy some time in out of the rain.” With the water finally boiling, Deborah stirred in grits and covered the pot with a heavy iron lid.

“I’d be happy to sleep in my own bed, even for a few winks.” Christopher suppressed a yawn and stretched. “Coffee ready yet?”

“Not quite. Soon.” Deborah collected the plates. She motioned everyone to the tables. Thunder rumbled from far away.

Deborah glanced at the skies overhead. The clouds churned and thickened once again. “Hopefully we can eat before the next storm moves in.”

“We haven’t had a run of weather like this for years,” Arjan declared.

“It’s actin’ like spring instead of summer,” G.W. threw in.

Lizzie brought out two jugs and plopped them down on the table. The men were notorious for eating their grits with equal amounts of the thick molasses sweetness. Hopefully two jugs would be enough. It wasn’t long before Deborah was ladling the food into large serving bowls. Jimmy took the first one to the table, and Lizzie took the second. Tommy and Arjan took the next bowls, and G.W. and Christopher helped by taking the platters of ham and leftover corn bread. Lizzie and Deborah brought the coffee at long last, and Arjan offered the blessing.

“Lord, we thank you for your many blessin’s. We ask that you would guide us on this, your Sabbath. Help us to remember that you gave us this day of rest to think on you and your goodness. Bless this food. Amen.”

“Amen,” the men murmured around the table.

Arjan stood and began to speak again as the food was passed. “You men are welcome to come back to our place for the day. Looks to me like it will rain and storm into the night. You can get in out of the weather, though you may be sleeping on the floor.”

There were some chuckles over this. “Hard floor, hard ground—take your choice.”

“One’s dry and the other’s wet,” Jimmy added.

Deborah watched her stepfather nod and smile. “He speaks the truth. Still, you’re welcome to it. We’ll leave just after breakfast and return tomorrow mornin’ to finish what we started.”

“We haven’t made the number yet, Mr. Vandermark,” one of the men declared. “Won’t make our goal for tomorrow iffen we don’t keep workin’ today.”

Arjan nodded. “Son, as I’ve said before, this is God’s day. I know we could work it, but I believe we’ll honor it instead. God multiplied the loaves and fishes for the crowds of hungry folks in the Bible. I reckon He can multiply logs if need be.”

In the end, about half the men decided to go home with the Vandermarks while the others decided to stay put. Arjan had led them all in prayer and Scripture reading before announcing that they could further their time with the Lord once they were safely inside with a roof overhead.

Sprinkles of rain had started to fall by the time they reached the house. It appeared, however, that the worst of the storm had passed them by. Deborah was certainly glad about this. The children and Mother came bounding out from the house as the wagons came to a stop near the barn.

“You boys help me turn the mules loose in the corral,” Arjan instructed. “Tommy and Jimmy, you throw them some feed.”

“We’ve got kittens!” Emma declared to the new arrivals.

“Truly?” Deborah smiled. “Who’s the proud mama?”

Her mother held Jonah back to keep him out of the way of the mules. “It was the long-haired gray.”

“And how many babies are there?” Deborah asked, getting down from the back of the wagon with Christopher’s help.

“Five. There are five kittens and five of us children. Mama Euphanel said that’s just like God to provide exactly what we need,” Emma announced.

Deborah laughed. “I believe she’s right.”

“She also said we can’t be pickin’ them up yet,” Jonah said. “Else their eyes won’t open.”

“That’s very wise. The mama cat knows best what they need right now,” Deborah told him. “Soon enough those kittens will be scampering all over the place. How are the puppies?”

“They’re getting big,” Darcy replied. She was dressed in her Sunday best and looked like quite the young lady.

“What are you all gussied up for, little gal?” Arjan asked. “You look right pretty.”

“Pastor’s coming for dinner,” she told him. “He was here yesterday, and Mama Euphanel invited him and Miss Mara.”

“I’m right glad she did. Maybe he’ll preach us a sermon,” Arjan said, taking Mother in his arms.

Deborah smiled as he gave her mother a big kiss. “I missed you, Wife.”

“Not half so much as I missed you.” Mother kissed him right back.

Deborah turned to Christopher. “I’m going to have a bath before the pastor arrives.”

“I could use one, too.”

Jonah pulled on his brother’s coat. “You can’t both take a bath at the same time. Mama Euphanel says it’s not fittin’ for girls and boys to take a bath at the same time, so I know she won’t let you grown-up folks do that.”

Deborah saw her mother’s eyes widen in alarm while Arjan coughed and sputtered as he did his best to keep from laughing. Pretending she hadn’t heard, Deborah left Christopher to handle the comment.

“I reckon I can wait until she takes her bath first,” Christopher replied. “I don’t want Mama Euphanel mad at me. I haven’t had her dessert in nearly two weeks.”

Jonah nodded. “That’d be good, ’cause today we’re having pie.”

Arjan regained control of his merriment and motioned to the family. “We’d best stop jawin’ out here in the rain.”

“It’s barely a sprinkle, but I agree,” Mother said. “Come along, little chickens, let’s get in the house.”

Deborah headed for the cabin, knowing that Christopher was right behind her. She didn’t say a word until they were inside with the door closed, then she burst out laughing.

“You . . . you nearly . . . caused a scene,” she sputtered.

“I thought your ma would have kittens,” he replied, grinning.

Tears came to her eyes as she fought to get her breath. She hadn’t laughed this hard in years. She fought to sober herself as she listened to the rain begin to fall in earnest. “I guess I’ll get a rainwater bath. The barrel is bound to be full.”

“Why don’t you light the stove, and I’ll drag out the tub.” He tossed his bag and coat onto a nearby chair. “Then I’ll bring the water in for you. It shouldn’t take too long to warm up.”

Deborah nodded. It was just good to be home. Good to be able to soak in a tub and rest in bed. She hurried to light the stove. Time was a-wasting.

After the evening meal, Pastor Shattuck stood to offer a reading from Psalm ninety-one. “ ‘He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler.’ ”

“What’s a buckler?” Jonah asked, a little louder than intended.

“That’s a very good question,” Pastor Shattuck declared before Mother could hush the boy. “In the old days, when men fought with swords instead of guns, a buckler was used as a small shield. But it was decidedly more than that.”

Lightning lit the room, seeming to come out of nowhere. Thunder cracked shortly thereafter, but Pastor Shattuck continued without concern.

“A buckler had five main uses. The warrior would hold it in the hand opposite his sword. It was often round and made of strong metal. It wasn’t all that big, but it didn’t need to be for what it was intended. You see, a buckler was a weapon of close combat. The kind of fight you would have face-to-face with your enemy.”

Deborah could see that Jonah was completely captivated. So, too, were most of the young men who’d come home from the logging camp to share the Vandermark hospitality.

“A buckler’s first job was to act as protection for the hand,” Pastor Shattuck told them. “The grip that allowed the warrior to deflect the blows of his attacker. Thus, the second job—deflecting. Because it was lightweight and small, it was easier to use than a large shield.