The Tender Flame (16 page)

Both of Lydia’s parents agreed.

G
RANT’S PARENTS WERE EATING SUPPER
when he knocked. After the first shock of seeing their son standing before them alive, they joyously welcomed him home.

While Grant ate his mother’s cooking, he told his parents about his wounding, capture, and imprisonment. Scott and Marjorie listened as their son told of his escape along with his six fellow prisoners. After reporting in at Fort McHenry, he had come directly to Montgomery Village.

The Smiths were relieved when Grant said he knew about Lydia. When he told them he didn’t want to know where Lydia and her husband were living and that he’d asked Lydia’s parents not to let her know that he was still alive, Scott and Marjorie agreed that it was best to leave well enough alone.

Marjorie told Grant that both his sisters were married now and living in other states. When Grant had finally been caught up on all the family news, he told his parents he could spend a couple of weeks with them before reporting back to Fort McHenry. Marjorie teased that she could fatten him up some in that much time.

That night, in his own room once again, Grant lay awake in the dark. “Lord, I don’t understand. I can’t blame Lydia for marrying this Clay Price when she thought I was dead. But You didn’t have to let me get shot and spend all that time in a rotten Mexican prison. The one and only woman I’ve ever loved is now another man’s wife because I didn’t make it home from the war like thousands of other men did. Why, God? Why?”

The next morning, Grant went to the church. When Pastor
Britton was over the initial jolt of finding Grant alive and had learned what had happened to him, the young war hero said, “Pastor, I really need your help. It appears that the Lord has failed me.”

The pastor looked at Grant with compassion. “You’re referring to the fact that Lydia married someone else while you were locked up in prison?”

“Yes, sir. God could’ve kept it from happening. He could’ve let me come home and marry Lydia. Why didn’t He?”

“I detect bitterness in your tone, Grant. The one thing you should never do is get bitter toward God.” Pastor Britton picked up his Bible from the desk. “You say you want help …”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t have a magic formula that will make you understand why things happened as they did, but God Himself has the answer. You’ll have to take Him at His Word, by faith. If you’re willing to do that, you’ll walk out that door in a little while with victory over this puzzle in your heart. Are you willing?”

Grant looked down for a moment, then said, “Yes, I am.”

Britton opened his Bible to Psalm 18 and turned it so Grant could see it. “Read me verse 30.”

“ ‘As for God, his way is perfect: the word of the L
ORD
is tried: he is a buckler to all those that trust in him.’ ”

“When the army reported you dead, Grant, I used this verse to help Lydia. Believe me, she was crushed by the news. It says in this verse that the Word of the Lord is tried. Have you ever known His Word to fail? To be wrong or untrustworthy?”

“No, sir.”

“All right. The verse also says that the Lord Himself is a buckler to all those who trust in Him. Trust in this context is the same thing as faith. Right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You said you were willing to take God at His Word by faith …”

“I did.”

“All right, look again at the first seven words in the verse. What do they say?”

“ ‘As for God, his way is perfect.’ ”

“His Word is tried, Grant. It has never been wrong. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes.”

“Your heart is shattered, and your life is in a shambles right now. True?”

“Yes.”

“You need a buckler.”

“I need a buckler.”

“Do you need a buckler who never does wrong? One who can be trusted to always do right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then trust your Lord God in this deep disappointment and heartache. Believe Him. He says His way is perfect. Is it perfect, Grant?”

Grant turned his gaze to the floor.

“Well?” Britton said.

“It has to be, Pastor.”

“Then this seeming tragedy in your life was directed by your Lord.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I know you don’t understand why God brought it about this way, and the Lord knows you don’t. What He wants from you now is to trust Him and believe that what He has done is right for you and Lydia … and perfect. Is the One who died on the cross for you worthy of your trust?”

Tears filled Grant’s eyes and began spilling down his cheeks. “Yes, Pastor. He is worthy of it, and I was wrong to feel bitterness toward Him.”

“Grant, you’re not the first child of God to let bitterness toward Him get a grip on you. You’re made of mortal flesh, like the rest of us.”

“But I shouldn’t have accused Him in my thoughts of doing wrong, Pastor. I want to ask Him to forgive me.”

Britton left his chair and said, “Let’s pray together. You go first.”

The two men knelt side by side, and Grant poured out his heart to the Lord, asking to be forgiven for his bitterness and lack of faith. He asked the Lord to help him grasp the full truth of the words, “As for God, his way is perfect.” And he asked God to give him a happy life without Lydia, because He was the only one who could do it.

Captain Grant Smith settled down to army life at Fort McHenry. He found a good church nearby and became a member. All six of the men he had led to Christ in the Mexican prison were active in the same church.

Shortly thereafter, the army assigned a new commandant to the fort—Colonel Steven Baker. Colonel Baker, his wife, son, and daughter were Christians and joined the same church where Grant was a member. Not long after that, Grant and the colonel’s daughter, Carrie, began seeing each other.

As Grant and Carrie spent time together, they found themselves falling in love. Grant proposed marriage, and after a proper courtship, they were married in March of 1852.

In June of the following year, Carrie gave birth to a baby girl they named Jessica. In August 1854, son Daniel was born, and another son, David, was born in November 1856.

It was a beautiful spring day in 1860. Carrie Smith was hanging clothes on the line behind her house on the grounds of Fort McHenry. She was taking one of five-year-old Daniel’s shirts out of the laundry basket when she saw her husband coming around the corner of the house.

The sun glistened off Carrie’s jet-black hair. She smiled at Grant and said, “Hello, darling. I didn’t expect you home till this afternoon.”

“I’ve been in a meeting with your daddy and some big brass from
Washington,” Grant said, kissing her on the cheek. “And I’ve got some news.”

“Good news or bad?”

Grant smiled. “Well, a mixture, I guess. It will take us a long way from your parents and mine, but we’ll get to see some new country.”

Carrie placed Daniel’s shirt on the line and fastened it with clothespins. “You’re being transferred to another fort?”

“That’s right. To Fort Union, New Mexico.”

“New Mexico! Really?” There was a gleam in Carrie’s eyes. “Honey, I’ve always had a secret desire to go out West. Of course I’ll miss our families, but orders are orders. If the army needs their best man at Fort Union, then so be it.”

Grant folded her in his arms, kissed her soundly, and said, “You’re the perfect soldier’s wife, sweetheart. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Well, I’m a soldier’s daughter, too, you know. That sort of prepared me to be a soldier’s wife.” She paused, then said, “What brought on the transfer?”

“They’re having continual trouble from the Indians out there, and Colonel Arthur Ballard, Fort Union’s commandant, put in a request to army headquarters for more troops and for a combat-experienced major to serve in the fort.”

Carrie cocked her head to the side. “But you’re a captain.”

“Well, part of the good news is that I’m not going to be a captain much longer. I’m being promoted to major before we leave, and we’re leaving in exactly three weeks.”

Carrie wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to tell the children!”

When the older Smith children came home from school, they learned of the change coming in their lives and of their father’s promotion. The new adventure of living in the West had them excited.

Three weeks later the Smiths traveled from Maryland with various army units until they reached St. Louis. There they joined an army
wagon train hauling weapons, ammunition, and supplies to two forts in New Mexico, one of them being Fort Union. A heavily armed escort of cavalry met up with them when they reached the southeast corner of Kansas. They were now entering hostile Indian country.

The journey was difficult but exciting, and though they often saw Indians riding at a distance, there were no attacks. Grant told his family this was because of their cavalry escort.

The Smiths arrived at Fort Union on a blistering hot day in late August 1860. They were welcomed by Colonel Arthur Ballard and his wife, and all the other men, women, and children of the fort. Grant, Carrie, and their children were especially happy to meet army chaplain Brett Cornell, his wife Martha, and their children—twelve-year-old Joshua and nine-year-old Mary Ann.

Two days after their arrival, the Smiths attended the Sunday chapel services and loved Chaplain Cornell’s preaching. They learned from other Christians that Cornell had been there only a few months, but already many souls had been saved, both from his preaching and from his personal interaction with people.

That week, Grant began leading patrols out of the fort. Carrie, like the other officers’ wives, watched them ride out, praying for God’s hand to keep her husband safe and to bring him home to her.

In the weeks that followed, Grant was involved in battles with Apaches, Hopis, and Navajos. Some of the soldiers were brought back wounded. Others were brought back draped over the backs of their horses. Each time, Carrie thanked the Lord that Grant had gone through the battles untouched.

The Smiths and the Cornells became fast friends and spent much time together.

One day after school, Jessica Smith and little brother Daniel were walking across the compound toward the section where the officers’ houses were located.

Daniel’s hair was like that of his brother. It was yellow as cornsilk and quite unruly. Both boys, like their father, had pale blue eyes.

Seven-year-old Jessica usually wore her glossy black hair in pigtails,
and straight bangs framed her chocolate brown eyes with their long, dark lashes. And like her mother, Jessica had well-sculptured features and smooth, creamy skin.

Her permanent front teeth had come in and seemed a little large, but Carrie had assured her that soon they would fit her face just fine. Anyone who looked at her could tell that one day she was going to be a striking young woman. She had a sweet gamine smile and was filled with mischievous charm. Since birth, she had been the apple of her daddy’s eye.

Daniel also had a mischievous streak, but to his sister, at times it was anything but charming.

They were about halfway across the compound when Daniel pointed toward the fort stables. “There comes your boyfriend, Jessica.”

Big sister’s eyes flashed fire. “Daniel Jay Smith, don’t you say a word about you know what! Do you hear me?”

Daniel grinned. “What’s it worth to you?”

Joshua Cornell had put his horse to a trot.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Jessica said. “Just don’t you say anything!”

“Hi, kids!” said Joshua, drawing rein. “Want to go for a ride, Jessica?”

“I can’t this time. Mama has some housework for me to do when I get home. Maybe tomorrow.”

“All right. I’ll check with you then. Bye.” Joshua put the horse to a trot again and aimed for the fort gate. His father allowed him to ride outside the fort as long as he stayed close to the walls at all times.

As brother and sister walked toward home, Daniel said, “Well, I didn’t blab that you’re in love with him. What do I get?”

“I’ll make your bed for you in the morning, all right?”

A wide grin spread over the boy’s face. “Great! I hate to make my bed! Thanks, sis!”