The White Knight (17 page)

Joelle hoped to give the five girls who had been entrusted into her care skills such as cooking and keeping a house. It was a difficult task where Phyllis and June were concerned, but Joelle was optimistic and never gave up with any of her girls.

The Haven was the name Joelle had given to her home for wayward girls. Right now the group was very manageable, with only five girls in residence, although as many as twelve had been a part of the household at one time. Some had managed to turn their lives around, becoming confident, happy Christian women, and some had not. Those who did were a joy, and those who left were a tragedy to Joelle.

As they worked, Phyllis leaned over and turned up the radio. The music that blasted out nearly took the wallpaper off the walls!

“What in the world is that?” Joelle asked.

“That's Woody Herman on the clarinet. He's playing ‘The Woodchoppers' Ball.' Don't you ever listen to good stuff?”

“Turn it down a bit, will you?”

June leaned over and changed the station. The strains of a man singing “You Are My Sunshine” filled the kitchen.

“That's better,” Joelle said.

Phyllis gave the radio a disgusted look. “It's corny. Why can't we listen to decent music around here?”

The argument continued from there but stopped when they heard a car pull up out front.

Sunny ran and looked out the front window. “It's the preacher,” she cried.

Phyllis gave Joelle an arch look. “The preacher's sweet on you, Joelle. You two oughta go out dancing some night.”

“Oh, Brother Prince would never do that,” Joelle said. “I don't think he knows how to dance.”

“No,” June laughed. “He's too holy to dance. I think he's so holy he wouldn't eat an egg laid on a Sunday.”

“You hush, now. Be nice,” Joelle warned. She turned as Asa Prince entered with Sunny. He was a lanky man, over six feet, with coarse brown hair and warm brown eyes. He was not handsome at all but reminded Joelle of the picture she had seen of a rather youthful Abraham Lincoln. He was homely with sunken cheeks and deep-set eyes that were mournful a great deal of the time but now were bright as he entered the kitchen.

“Hello, ladies,” he said cheerfully. “Getting ready for Thanksgiving?”

“Yep,” Sunny said. “Joelle's teaching us how to make corn-bread dressing.”

“I don't see why we can't go out to a restaurant,” Phyllis complained. “I like restaurants. You don't have to cook and wash dishes.”

“Just where do you think you'd find a restaurant that's open on Thanksgiving?” Shirley asked.

“Even if you could find a restaurant that was open,” Asa said, “you wouldn't get anything as good as what you can get around here.” He straightened up and rubbed his belly. “I can't think of anything that smells better than Thanksgiving dinner in the oven. Turkey and dressing and sweet potato pie . . . pecan pie. Are you going to have all that, Joelle?”

“Yes, we are, and we're expecting you to come and help us eat it.”

“Well,” he said with a smile, “I suppose I could force myself.”

“Here. You can try this. Taste this stuffing and see if there's enough sage in it.”

Joelle held out a spoonful and fed it to Asa. He chewed thoughtfully and nodded. “Maybe could use a little more.”

“All right. More sage it is.” While Joelle added sage, she said, “I'm planning to cook two turkeys tomorrow. Can you think of someone in the church who might need a turkey?”

“I'm sure the Williamsons would appreciate some help. Since she lost her husband, Mrs. Williamson has had a hard time. With six children to feed, a turkey would come in handy.”

“I'll make enough stuffing so you can take a big bowl of that over too.”

“Bless you, Sister Joelle. That's like you.”

“All right, girls, let's put it in the oven,” Joelle said.

“I'll do it,” Shirley said as she opened the oven door.

“Sit down and have some coffee and tell me about the sermon you're going to preach next Sunday,” Joelle suggested.

“I don't want to hear it twice!” Phyllis exclaimed, even as she followed the man to the dining room and sat at the table beside the preacher. “Once is enough for any sermon.”

Asa was not offended. He was accustomed to Phyllis and June, who were constantly resisting anything to do with church. “That's all right,” he said. “We'll just wait until Sunday for that. Let me tell you about my hunting expedition. Tom Miller and I went out looking for a deer last week. . . .”

As Asa spoke he eyed the five girls. He'd had his doubts about Joelle's calling to open a home for wayward girls, but he had admitted his error since then.
She's done a fine job. These girls would be out on the street or worse if it weren't for her.
He studied the five and then his eyes went to Joelle. She had the most expressive eyes he had ever seen, and at the age of twenty-eight, she had a girlish figure. He had been drawn to her for years now and was surprised she hadn't married yet. As a poor preacher he knew he had little hope of marrying her, but still there flickered in him, even after all this time, the dream that one day she would become his wife.

The girls all laughed as Asa told them about the last in
a line of little things that had gone wrong on his hunting expedition.

“Needless to say, we didn't bring home a deer that day!” he exclaimed.

“I guess things don't always go as we expect, do they,” Joelle said. “Okay, girls. It's time to get started on your chores.” She stood up and retrieved the job chart from the kitchen counter.

The girls moaned in unison.

“June, you get started on the laundry. I'll help you with it after I get the kitchen cleaned up. Phyllis, your job is sweeping the floors. Shirley and Gladys, you change the sheets on all the beds. Sunny, I want you to go out and collect the eggs and feed the chickens, and then feed Marshall.” The old horse wasn't good for much these days, although Joelle had discovered that he seemed to have a calming effect on the girls.

She put the chart down. “And make sure all the jobs are done correctly. We don't want anyone to have to go back and do it again.”

They all left, chattering like a group of magpies.

When they were gone Asa turned back to Joelle. “You look tired,” he remarked.

She laughed and reached up to tuck some hair back in place. “I used to think a double shift at the hospital was hard, but keeping five girls out of trouble—now, that's really tiring.” She moved over to the stove, picked up the big coffeepot, and refilled his cup. She poured a cup for herself, sat down, and added a spoonful of sugar. “But I don't mind it. I have no doubt it's what God has called me to do.”

“It's a wonderful ministry, Joelle, but I know it's very demanding.”

The two sat there talking, mostly about the affairs of the church, but also about their plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Finally Joelle looked up and smiled. She had a beautiful smile that lighted her whole face. “I'm going to make pies later on. Pumpkin and pecan. Which do you like best?”

“Pumpkin, but pecan's good too.”

“If you like both, you might just have to have a slice of each. We'll plan to eat around two o'clock, by the way.”

“I'm looking forward to it. You're the best cook in the county.” He watched as she sat there silently. She was the one woman he knew who could sit quietly without it feeling awkward. Sometimes they would sit together on the porch not speaking for as long as fifteen minutes, yet without any sense of discomfort. Most people felt they had to keep a conversation going, but Joelle had the gift of silence. Finally he broke the silence by saying, “You've taken on a lot, Joelle. Too much, I think. You look pretty well worn out.”

“It's what God has given me to do,” she said simply. “I'm thankful that I'm able to do it.”

“Do you ever think about your first dream to be a missionary?”

“I think I was so anxious to serve the Lord that I ran ahead of Him. Missionaries have to be sent by God, don't they? They don't just decide to go.”

Asa grinned and took a sip of his coffee. “I know what they say about missionaries and their calling. Some got called and sent—others just up and went. Those that just up and went usually don't last very long. The work's too hard.”

“I probably wouldn't have lasted long either. This is what God wants me to do. The Haven is more than just a desire. It's what God has put on me, and I'm glad of it. I love it, Asa, but I must admit there are times when I'm just not sure how to handle the girls.”

“You haven't had an easy time of it—getting a nursing degree and then taking care of your father when he was sick and then your mother. Now the Haven.”

“Well, as you know, the Haven started with just one girl after Mom passed away. I took in the McClellan girl when nobody else would. I had no plans for the whole thing to take off from there.”

“I remember everybody thought she'd go straight to the devil, but somehow you were able to win her to the Lord.”
Asa shook his head doubtfully. “I still don't see how you did it. That was a miracle.”

“It was the Lord who did it, of course, and after she left other girls just kept on coming.”

Asa suddenly felt a freedom and a boldness he had seldom felt. He cleared his throat and blurted, “If you would marry me, we could do it together.”

She had been lifting her cup to her lips. She stopped dead still and slowly turned to him. “You've been thinking about that for a long time, haven't you, Asa?”

“I have thought about it for a long time. It's probably not even fair to ask you, because you know I'll never have a lot of money. It's a poor church, and if I left for another one, it would probably be no larger. I'll never be a big-time preacher.”

“That doesn't bother me.”

Hope sprang up in Asa. “Then, you mean—”

“I don't know as I'll ever marry, Asa. I don't feel led in that direction right now. All I can think of is the Haven.”

Asa's head dropped and he was silent for a moment. When he looked up he managed a grin. “I'm not going to stop asking you.” He changed the subject, for he was slightly embarrassed and was not going to push it. “What about the loan on the place here?” He was well aware that Joelle was not very secure financially.

“I've got to go talk to Mr. Damon at the bank right after Thanksgiving.”

“Would you like me to go with you? Maybe I can be of some help—provide a character reference if nothing else.”

“No, but thanks, Asa. I tell you what you can do, though. You can bring in some wood. It's going to take lots of wood to cook all this food for my brood—and for you.”

****

The house was full of the aroma of freshly baked bread and turkey cooking in the oven, all mixed with the faint odor of woodsmoke. The girls were scurrying around helping Joelle
finish the cooking and get the table set. Joelle had been hard put to keep up with all the girls, and she suddenly realized that she had not seen Phyllis for thirty minutes. She moved out of the kitchen searching for her, and when she didn't find the girl in the house, a sudden thought came to her. She went out to the barn. There over in the shadows she saw Phyllis. The girl had her arms around a young man, a neighbor.

“Phyllis, get in the house!”

Phyllis turned but was not frightened. There seemed to be no fear in the girl, and no threats would make her act any differently. “I don't have to mind you. You're not my mama.”

Joelle ignored the girl. It never paid to get into an argument with her. She said, “Ralph, you leave right now.”

“Oh, look, Miss Joelle, we didn't do nothin' wrong.”

“I'm not going to argue with you, Ralph. If you want me to have the sheriff tell you to stay away, I can do that.” Joelle had no intention of carrying out such a threat, but she faced the young man squarely and saw that he was uncomfortable.

He released Phyllis and started for the door.

“You don't have to leave just because she says so,” Phyllis called out.

“I guess I do, Phyllis. This is her place.”

“You come back sometime when she's asleep,” Phyllis said defiantly.

“I wouldn't do that. Look, I'm sorry, Miss Joelle. I didn't mean no harm.”

“Just leave, Ralph.”

As soon as he was out the door, Joelle said, “Phyllis, you can't—”

“Don't you tell me what to do!” Phyllis held herself up straight, and her eyes glinted with a fierce anger. “You ain't no kin to me.”

“Phyllis,” Joelle said patiently, “I don't want anything bad for you. I only want good things—a good life!”

“I don't want to hear any of your preaching. Throw me
out if you want to. I'm not going to stay here anyhow. I'm getting out as soon as I can.”

Joelle watched as Phyllis ran out of the barn, and a heaviness came over her. This was the hardest part of trying to work with these girls who had been, for the most part, abandoned by their families. Most of them had developed a hard shell and would not listen to anything remotely like criticism. Gladys and Sunny were the exceptions, but most of the girls who came through here had hardened themselves. Phyllis was perhaps the worst. Slowly Joelle moved out of the barn and went toward the house. “I can't let this spoil Thanksgiving,” she said, and she lifted her head and began to pray that God would give them a good time together.

****

The table was laden with food, including an enormous turkey, corn-bread dressing, mashed potatoes, giblet gravy, English peas, cranberry sauce, celery stuffed with cheese and pimentos, and plenty of fresh-baked bread.

There were seven at the table: the five girls plus Asa Prince and Joelle. The girls were chattering as usual, and Joelle interrupted them by saying, “Brother Prince, would you ask the blessing?”