Love's Story (38 page)

“Of course, Mr. Dylan, of course. I was only…” Mrs. Davenport stammered the words. “But you know, it is up to us as a community to ensure decency.”

“Here's my list, Mrs. Davenport. I'll be back tomorrow to get my supplies.” Chase thrust the list into Mrs. Davenport's waiting hands; his patience had worn thin, and he needed to pray.

“Rachel, do you understand what we're trying to tell you?” Maria's voice was gentle and quiet. She rose from her pine kitchen table and placed her arm around Rachel.

“They think I had a child?” Rachel's meek voice was incredulous.

“Rachel, we know it's impossible to believe, but somehow… somewhere your little brother became your son.” Robert tried to explain.

“So, we'll just explain that he's
not
my son.”

“Oh Rachel, I wish it were that simple. Searsville's sewing circles… Let's just say truth is subjective and, quite frankly, unimportant,” Robert said. “As we speak, I'm sure a committee has been formed to demand your expulsion from the school.”

“Well, I'm
not
leaving. It's that simple. I am committed to teaching school through next June, and I intend to fulfill my agreement, all of it.”

Maria's gentle voice was low and concerned. “Rachel, we'd like nothing better and we admire your fortitude, but I think it's only fair to warn you just how cruel the rumor mill can be. You will probably not notice any change in the way the men treat you. However, the women will be brutal. Believe me, I know firsthand. And, unfortunately, I don't think I would have any positive influence over their behavior. If you decide to stay, we will support you completely, but we want you to know what you're up against.”

Rachel was pained by Maria's words, but with them came a full understanding.
Maria knows how the town's women persecute her and she's preparing me for the same fate.
Rachel remembered the words she had heard regarding Maria; they were hateful, ugly lies, and yet the town regarded them as truth.
Will I be able to withstand the same fate?

“We shall form an alliance, Maria. I will not let them win.” Rachel was insolent; she was determined to show the women of Searsville who was stronger.

“Come what may, the Lord will be here for us.” Maria's words were said as much for herself as for the schoolteacher.

At the time, Rachel didn't think about the Lord or praying; she only thought about how she had survived alone thus far.

Chase's pace was heavy along the quiet country path as he left Davenport General Store and walked north toward the Lathrop's ranch. The store had been teaming with gossips, each relishing the latest dirt about his Rachel.
His
Rachel, that's how he felt about her, and yet there was nothing he could do to keep her from this pain.

Chase prayed silently. It wasn't his usual type of prayer; it was angry and questioning.
Lord, I just don't understand. Why would You bring Rachel to Searsville, only to have her tormented by gossip? She's done nothing to deserve this, and she's just not strong enough. What can I do to protect her, Lord? Being a man, anything I say or do will only make her cause worse! What would You have me do? I think I love her.

Chase stood in front of the Lathrop's one-story adobe home, wondering why he had come. What could he possibly say to Rachel to make things better? Looking down at his black trousers and fidgeting with his suspenders, he pondered what to do next. The Lord had been quiet, and Chase's path remained obscure.

“Rachel.” Chase was surprised to see her walking from the Lathrop's garden, looking lovely in a bright green dress, and without a hint of tears. He had expected to find her shattered by the news of the rumor. Instead, she had a fresh blush on her cheeks and her hair was casually knotted down her back.

Rachel's eyes brightened at the sight of him, and Chase noticed with delight that her animosity toward him had disappeared. “Chase, what a pleasure to see you. Are you in town to pick up Henry? He's one of my favorites, you know, and I'm so glad you spend time with him.” Rachel wiped her hands on the apron she wore.

“No, that was yesterday. I was at the Davenports' store dropping off a list. How are you?” His last words were soft and said tentatively.

“I'm fine, thank you.” There was no sadness in the voice, and Chase was left to wonder if Maria and Robert had had a chance to speak with her about the rumor. Perhaps he would have to tell her after all. “It's a shame to waste this beautiful evening,” she said. “Would you care to go for a walk?”

Chase was taken aback by the suddenly talkative Rachel, but loved it, and extended his arm quickly before she changed her mind.

Rachel unconsciously felt her hair. “My hair's down. Would you mind waiting just a minute?” Chase wanted to tell her he'd wait forever, but he simply nodded. She slipped back inside the Lathrop home.

Moments later, Rachel dashed out the door, telling Maria about her walk. Robert and Maria jumped up from the dinner table and followed her to the porch. “Perhaps a chaperone would be in order. Maria and I can follow behind you with Seth,” Robert offered.

“Robert, I will not have these vicious lies rule my conduct. Mr. Dylan and I will be strolling along the most populated path in all of Searsville, our innocent intentions abundantly evident,” Rachel answered vehemently.

Rachel stepped off the porch, and Chase pressed his large hand gently against the small of her back to lead the way. He felt her small frame shiver at his touch, and they looked at one another in acknowledgment. They had indeed developed stronger feelings.

Rachel tossed her head back carelessly. “We'll be near the lake if you need us.”

The Lathrops silently rejoiced at seeing the feud they had witnessed for weeks end, but Maria nevertheless looked worried about the two of them being seen together.

“We'll be home before supper,” Chase announced.

“Oh my goodness,
home.
I have nowhere to live,” Rachel exclaimed to the astonishment of everyone.

“What?” Robert asked.

“Mrs. Hopper has asked me to leave her home,” Rachel now said meekly, looking shyly up at Chase, mortified that he might believe the rumor.

“Why, that traitor!”

“Chase Dylan!” The reprimand came from Maria. Rachel covered her mouth, giggling happily at the comment. “And Rachel Phillips! You're no better.” Maria again tried to maintain decorum, wagging her finger at her friends, but soon the entire foursome was laughing.

“Rachel, go for your walk and then we'll see you both for dinner. We'll find you a place to live by morning,” Robert reassured her.

“Thank you,
all
of you, for your support.” Rachel's voice trembled, her throat too tight to say more. She took Chase's arm and they strolled in harmony toward the lake.

“So, we're going to the lake?” Chase asked, his heavy, work-hardened build dwarfing the petite woman by his side.

“I like the lake. It calms me. And quite frankly, I could use a little tranquillity right about now.”

“Rachel, do you mind if I ask what you plan to do?” Chase was too polite to mention any details.

Her answer was enough for Chase to know she now trusted him. “I plan to do nothing about it.” Her voice was defiant, and her dark green eyes stared directly at Chase's own. “And if you don't mind, I'd just as soon drop the subject. Why don't you tell me what you do every day, out in the woods?” She was so close, he felt her warmth through his soft sleeve.

“I guess it depends on the day, but most days I work at the mill.”

“And what happens at the mill?” Rachel's tone was cheeky.

“You know, Rachel, I was wrong to say what I did about Mrs. Hopper,” Chase said.

“Yes, I know, Chase. And please forgive me for taking pleasure in your remark. I just felt so betrayed by Thelma asking me to leave. It meant she believed the filthy lies when all she had to do was ask me. She didn't even give me the chance to explain.”

“Rachel, if it makes you feel any better, I don't think she believes the rumor. I think she's just worried about her status in the community.”

“That's almost worse.”

“Yes, I know.” Chase patted Rachel's hand sympathetically. Their eyes met, and they both turned away instantly, afraid of where the look might lead.

“That's enough of such depressing talk. Tell me what it is you do at the mill,” Rachel urged earnestly.

“It just depends on what needs to be done. I have two steam saws at my mill. Most of my day is spent ensuring that those saws are running continuously. Often, that means I'm fixing them or the boiler they depend upon. Sometimes I'm out on the ridge making sure a downed tree has been cut into manageable pieces and that the oxen will have it to the mill on time.”

“Whenever I see those oxen coming down Main Street, I run for cover,” Rachel said.

“They are intimidating, but I have an excellent bullmaster, and he keeps them in line. Soon, I plan to run as many as ten saws. I've met with a man in Redwood who can make it happen.”

“Oh Chase, that
would
be exciting.” The young couple had arrived at the lake just as the large, red sun was setting behind the forested mountain, creating a tapestry of pink and blue in the sky. Caught up in the pleasure of the natural beauty around them, the conversation stopped, and Chase turned toward Rachel.

Gazing into her exquisite forest-green eyes, Chase was lost in his feelings for her. “Rachel.” He closed his eyes and drew her close. Rachel cuddled against his strong chest and seemed to forget her troubles. “I hope that I might save enough money to build a small cabin right here. It shouldn't cost too much. After all, I know somebody in the lumber business.” Rachel smiled flirtatiously at the mill owner.

“Miss Phillips?” A small voice caused the couple to immediately separate.

“Henry. Does your mother know you're out here alone?” Rachel obviously was flustered, but her voice remained calm.

“He's not alone.” Gretchen Steele's eyes squinted with bitterness as she sidled up to the couple. “We were out for a pleasant walk along the lake,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess we weren't the only ones with such an idea.”

“Gretchen, I think…” Chase started to explain.

“Chase, I don't need an explanation from you. You're a grown man; you may do what you please. But as our schoolteacher, Miss Phillips,” Mrs. Steele scrutinized the young woman, pointing her manicured finger, “I should think you would be concerned for your reputation. What's left of it, anyway.”

“That's enough, Gretchen!” Chase shouted, his face red with anger. Locking his arm around Rachel, he led her back toward the Lathrops' home. She was distraught, and her tears were flowing easily now. Chase turned his head, directing one final comment at the angry widow. “I will deal with you later, Mrs. Steele.”

Such formal address by Chase was a rarity, Gretchen knew. “I'll never dig my way out of this. He'll never forgive me.” Gretchen dropped her head into her hands.

“Do you mean Mr. Dylan, Mama?” Gretchen had forgotten all about the presence of her son.

“Yes, honey. It seems I've made him angry.”

“He'll forgive you, Mama. I know, because that's what Jesus would do and Chase wants to be like Jesus.” His face shone up at her like a full moon. He placed his hands on her belly. “Just ask him.”

“Yes, dear. Let's go home.” The woman somberly led her son from the lake.

R
obert sighed in frustration. “Maria, it's much worse than I thought. I've been to every summer widow's home in town. No one will take her in. I've never seen them band together this tightly. They're impenetrable. I'm watching it happen again, and I'm powerless to stop it!”

“Robert, please calm down. Rachel and Chase are coming up the walk; they'll hear you. Rachel will just have to stay here in Seth's room until we can find something more suitable for her.”