Love's Story (36 page)

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Authors: Kristin; Dianne; Billerbeck Christner

BOOK: Love's Story
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“Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan!” Henry flew over the steps from the porch.

“Well, that sure improves my day. How's my boy?” Chase asked, while patting him on the back.

“I'm fine. I started school, and I'm learning my sums good.”

“You're learning them
well,
Henry.”

“Yeah, I'm learning them well. How did you know, did Miss Phillips tell ya?”

Chase laughed at the misunderstanding. “No, but I'm sure she would have if I'd asked her. You keep up the good work; a train engineer needs to know his sums.”

“Mama's not home yet, she went to the post office. Milly's in the house making dinner. What are we gonna do tonight?”

“We're going to plant redwood trees.” Henry looked up in wonder. “You'll see, it will be fun,” Chase promised.

Rachel arrived home to find a note from Mrs. Hopper. A neighbor woman had taken ill and Mrs. Hopper was attending to the family's dinner before going to the evening sewing circle. Grateful for the quiet house, Rachel made herself some tea and sat down at the kitchen to savor her mother's letter.

August 30, 1863

Dear Rachel,

You've only been gone a few days, but it seems like years. I never knew how much I would miss you. I can't believe my daughter is a schoolteacher; it makes me so proud. How many children are in your class? What are the people of Searsville like? You'll have to give me all the details.

Life here remains the same. Georgie has started to sleep through the night, so that's one nice change. I think he misses you. He looks around when he's eating his breakfast and I tell him, “We'll see your big sister at Christmastime.” Georgie signed this letter with his breakfast—blackberry preserves. I think he's an artist, don't you?

Marshall hired a nurse to help with Georgie. I can't say I'm very fond of the idea, but it is helpful when I'm hosting a luncheon for the wives of Marshall's business associates. My life has become so different, I must really work to make time for God. It seems so funny, I should have more time than ever, but praying comes much harder.

Marshall is certainly busy. Between the politics of the railroad and housing the continuous flow of businessmen headed to the Comstock Lode in Nevada, we barely see him. In addition to work, he's become very vocal lately in regard to the Civil War. He's been to a few Union rallies and has even hosted a fund-raiser for the Sanitation Committee, which provides assistance for victims of the war. If it weren't for the rallies and the occasional volunteer in uniform, you'd never know there was a war on at all! I guess where you are, you probably don't hear anything about it. How I envy you.

There's so much building going on here constantly. I have no fear for your job because I see the lumber coming in a steady stream through the city. Whenever I see a lumber wagon, I think that wood might have passed right by my daughter. My darling, I will have to write more later, Marshall is bringing men home for dinner, so I need to get cleaned up. I love you and miss you. Please take care of yourself.

Serving Him with you,
Mother

Rachel was saddened by the letter; something seemed amiss with the woman she knew so well. Her mother's life had changed so much, Rachel wondered if she would know her when they met again. It was a silly thought. In her head, she knew that, but her emotions overruled her reason as she longed to embrace her family.

Chapter 7

C
hase sat comfortably on the love seat of the Steele home, waiting for Henry, who was in the kitchen packing a supper with Milly. “Chase, what a pleasure to see you,” Gretchen Steele cooed as she entered the home.

“Gretchen, you act like you weren't expecting me.” Her games were beginning to wear on the sawyer. He rose from his chair and called for Henry to hurry up.

“Oh Chase, really. You're such fun,” Gretchen said, dismissing the comment. “What are you handsome men up to this evening?”

“We're going to plant redwood trees above the lake.”

“What fun. Now, what's this little rumor I hear about you and our new schoolteacher?” She had asked the question casually, yet Chase recognized the desperation in her voice.

“I wish there was something to tell,” Chase answered, hoping to put an end to the town talk. His choice of words could not have proven more careless.

Gretchen Steele's eyes flashed with jealously, and she blatantly ignored the comment. “Henry darling, Mr. Dylan is ready to leave,” Gretchen managed to say as she quickly hustled the pair out of the house. “I haven't waited around this one-horse town all these years for nothing, Chase Dylan, and I'm certainly not going to let any bright-eyed schoolteacher take you away.” The comment was spoken to the back of the door. “I have a plan.”

“Rachel dear, are you all right?” Thelma entered the kitchen from the back door, her face drawn and weary.

“Yes, I'm fine, Thelma. I've just had a letter from Mother, so I'm a little homesick.”

“You're home now, you must remember that. Think how proud your mama must be to know you're supporting yourself and teaching all those children.” Thelma gently rubbed Rachel's back. Rachel smiled. The thought was little comfort, but the touch helped a great deal.

“Thelma, I've been meaning to tell you, God must have put you to work planning those lunch baskets. There were exactly five children without meals. It has been such a blessing to have food for them.”

“Well, we wouldn't be Christians if we didn't take care of the wee ones, now would we? Speaking of which, I'll be home late tonight from sewing and off early in the morning to help Mrs. Kramer with her children while she's ill. So if you need anything before then, leave a note on the kitchen table.”

“Mrs. Hopper, truly, you're going to wear yourself out.”

“Maybe, my dear, but if I'm going to wear myself out, I might as well accomplish something in the process.” Thelma's hand rested on Rachel's shoulder. “I'm exhausted. I'll be resting a bit before the quilting circle.”

Chase carried a leather satchel containing his Bible and four redwood saplings wrapped in cloth. He sat alongside Henry by the peaceful evening lake and began his lesson. “I'm going to read from the Bible, Henry.”

Chase opened his black leather Bible. “I'll be reading from the Gospel according to Saint Matthew, chapter 13, beginning with verse 3: ‘Behold a sower went forth to sow; and when he sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up: Some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth; and when the sun was up, they withered away. And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them. But others fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.'” Chase's arms exploded wildly with expression as he read.

“Do you understand this story that Jesus told, Henry?”

“No sir.” Henry's head dropped.

Sensing his frustration, Chase said, “Henry, I didn't understand it the first time I read it either. That's why we're here, to learn together.” Henry lit up, and Chase went on. “The seed is the Message of Jesus Christ. We'll use these redwood saplings as our seeds. The first one fell by the way side.” Chase put the sapling on top of the packed earth of the path around the lake. “You see, if we leave this here on the path, it would never sprout. Someone would come along and step on it and it would be carried away, not allowed to grow. When someone hears the message of God and doesn't understand it, the wicked one will come and snatch it away. Do you understand?”

The six-year-old nodded positively. “Mr. Dylan, we have to get the baby tree or someone will take it,” Henry said fearfully.

“We'll get it soon, Henry. Let's talk about the second set of seeds. Jesus said that these seeds fell on stony soil.” Chase laid the second sapling under the stones of the rocky shore of the lake. “Will this tree grow here?” Chase's hand pointed toward the sapling.

“No. There's no dirt; the roots couldn't sink in.”

“That's right, Henry! In the Bible, the soil is people's hearts. This is the person who hears the message of God and it brings him joy, but it lasts only a short time, and he falls away from the Lord because his heart did not accept the Word.”

“Oh yeah!” said Henry, happily understanding.

“Now, what about the third seed? Jesus said it fell among thorns.” Chase put the third sapling in a nearby bush. “This is a hard one. Why won't the tree grow here?”

“Because there's no dirt again.”

“That's right, but there's also a lot of things surrounding the tree, isn't there? This is the man who hears the message but is too caught up in the things of this world to care.”

“The things of this world?” Henry inquired.

“The things of this world could be anything that you put before God. For some people that means nice things like furniture or gold pieces. For others, it could be knowledge or travel. All those things
choke
the Word, like the third sapling. Do you understand?” Henry nodded once again.

Chase took the final sapling and a shovel to a soft spot in a clearing. He dug a hole and dropped the sapling in, covering its roots with the loose soil.

“This one will grow, Mr. Dylan!” shouted Henry excitedly.

“That's right, Henry. This is the man who hears the Word of God, embraces it, and lives to spread the Word, through good works and by telling others about Jesus.”

Henry clapped wildly and Chase felt as though he had just finished a one-act play.
This time with Henry is so special,
Chase thought.
I have learned so much about my heavenly Father by sharing it with this child.

The quilting circle had gathered at Mrs. Thorne's house, and the evening was off to a rough start: Mrs. Thorne complained she had just listened to an hour of her daughter's whining; she was still trying to convince her mother that she should be allowed to marry. Mrs. Hopper was exhausted from serving Mrs. Kramer all day. Gretchen's grumpy mood remained a mystery. Had the women seen Chase Dylan leaving her home with Henry, the women probably would have made a good guess. Mrs. Irving and Mrs. Davenport were the only women who arrived anxious to begin quilting.

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