Benjamin’s eyes narrowed.
“King David.”
He nodded as the Sunday school story flooded his memory.
The runners of Neil’s chair groaned as they steadily rocked back and forth. “Despite his sin, God refers to him as ‘a man after Mine own heart.’”
Benjamin massaged his jaw, still smarting from one of Artie’s licks. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could God say that after all David had done?”
“Because God looks upon the heart. And when he looked upon David’s, He not only saw the wrong David had done, but a man of strong faith—a man who was quick to repent. The Psalms are full of David’s pleas for forgiveness and his joy that God had absolved him.”
Benjamin wanted to believe Neil’s words could be true—that God could forgive him. But the weight of his own sin pulled him into darkness, like a drowning man sinking into the depths of the sea. His desperation pounded in his own ears. He needed to reach out and grab hold of something, anything, or he would be lost—for good this time. He slumped forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “Neil, I-I…” The lump in his throat prevented any intelligible words from forming.
“It’s all right, son.” Neil leaned forward and placed his hand on Benjamin’s shoulder. “God doesn’t expect perfection, but He desires a contrite heart that will keep coming to Him for forgiveness and guidance.”
Maybe Neil was right and it wasn’t too late. Maybe God would forgive him. Benjamin couldn’t speak as the emotion swelled within him. He managed a nod of his head then blinked back the moisture pooling in his eyes.
“Good.” Neil patted his shoulder. “A man should never be ashamed of tears of repentance, Benjamin—they are cleansing to the soul. Let’s pray.”
The two men bowed their heads as Neil prayed aloud. “Heavenly Father, thank You for the gift of Your grace and Your mercy. Thank You for sending Your Son to seek and save the lost. Guide Benjamin on his journey to reconcile his past and repent of his sin. May Your word guide his path and lead him in the way everlasting. Amen.”
Benjamin’s faint voice caught in his throat. “Thank you.”
Neil nodded. “Any time. Have you ever considered leaving the railroad camp? I realize the arrangement is financially beneficial, but I’m not sure it’s advantageous spiritually. We have room here in the boardinghouse if you’re interested.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Good. It’s late now. How about you stay tonight and fetch your things in the morning?”
“All right.” Benjamin touched his busted lip and winced. “I think I’ll stay out here a minute or two longer.”
“Fine. Take room four. Second floor, third door on the right. Just make sure you lock up when you come inside.”
Benjamin nodded. The rain had subsided while he’d been talking with Neil. Now the world smelled fresh and clean—like Benjamin desired his heart to be. He leaned against the porch railing, eyes drifting heavenward.
Father, forgive me for staying away from You. Forgive me for blaming You for the mess my life has become instead of taking responsibility for the sinful choices I’ve made. Someday I pray You will see in me a man after Your own heart.
7
Ruth Ann tugged at the collar of her plain brown linsey-woolsey. How she hated the scratchy thing, but it was appropriate for the task. Rather than arranging her hair in its normal bun, she braided her tresses and allowed the thick plait to fall over her shoulders. She folded a square of beige calico into a triangle, laid it on top of her head then tied the ends underneath her braid. She checked the time on her watch pin—quarter past seven. Forty-five minutes before meeting with her students and their families to do some much-needed work at the schoolhouse.
The smell of bacon frying wafted up the stairs, calling Ruth Ann to breakfast. She grabbed her shawl and headed downstairs.
“Good morning, Myra.”
“Mornin’, Missy.” Myra scanned the length of her then arched her brow. “Does your Mama know you goin’ out in public in them old rags?”
Ruth Ann shrugged her shoulders. “It’s best for what needs to be done.”
“You better hopes no one from the Women’s Benevolent Aid Society sees you. That’d ruffle your mama’s feathers somethin’ terrible.”
She leaned toward Myra, grinning. “A truer word has never been said.”
“I been meanin' to tell you I is proud of you for teachin’ at the Freedmen’s School. Not many white folks would be doin' that. I knows your mama has mixed feelings about it, but I also knows your papa would be mighty proud.”
A tear threatened to spill from the corner of Ruth Ann’s eyes as she hugged Myra. She was more than a woman who worked in their home. She was part of their family. Myra and her husband, Amos, had been wedding gifts to Ruth Ann’s parents. Papa had given them their emancipation papers shortly afterward. An act never completely forgiven by her mother’s side of the family. They had been working for her family ever since, earning a fair wage for their efforts. “Thank you, Myra. That means a lot to me.”
Myra patted Ruth Ann’s back before whispering in her ear. “I loves you, child.”
She kissed Myra’s cheek. “I love you, too.”
Bacon grease popped and sizzled in the frying pan, beckoning Myra back to her preparations. She cracked an egg on the side of the skillet. “Breakfast is nearly done cookin’.” Spatula in hand, she motioned toward the back door. “Mr. Palmer and Amos is out back puttin’ everything you needs in the wagon. Let ‘em know to hurry and wash up. I ain’t servin’ a cold meal.”
Ruth Ann snitched a piece of bacon, narrowly escaping Myra’s swat, and scurried out the back door. “Joseph. Amos. It’s time for breakfast!”
Joseph waved. A smile graced his clean-shaven face. Unbidden images of Benjamin Coulter crept to mind. She tried to envision the handsome face lying beneath those overgrown whiskers. A strong jaw, maybe a cleft in his chin—something that would match the breadth of his shoulders and the height of his stance. Pleased, a slight grin inched her lips upward.
Joseph kissed her cheek. “Morning, Ruth Ann. You don’t look like a schoolmarm today.”
Amos nodded, a toothy grin offset his dark features. “Not today she don’t.”
She pointed at the washbasin and rags on the bench. “Myra says if you two don’t wash up, you’ll get no breakfast.”
Amos snickered. “She’s a tough ol’ bird.”
“I’ll tell her you said that,” Ruth Ann teased.
She reached for the handle on the door. “Mmm.” The heavenly aroma of cinnamon glided through the mesh screen. She licked her lips in anticipation of the doughy delight awaiting her inside. She couldn’t imagine this day getting any better.
~*~
Benjamin whistled a happy tune as he strolled toward the schoolhouse. He cut through the field, eager to visit with the pretty schoolteacher. Mingled among the overgrown grasses were tall, flat-topped white flowers with tiny yellow-buttoned centers and feathery leaves. Plucking several from the ground, Benjamin fashioned a bouquet.
He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Miss Sutton for the last few weeks, but her plucky personality, dark eyes, and endless curls were never far from his thoughts. Her mother may not approve of him, but the glint in Miss Sutton’s eyes when she said she’d enjoy a trip to the creek had given him hope. Neil believed her to be a forgiving woman, if he made an earnest attempt to improve himself. The more he’d thought about it, the more he agreed with Myra. He’d need to show more tenacity if he planned to earn her mother’s blessing and win the lady’s heart.
Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Benjamin removed his hat and heaved a deep breath, before slowly releasing it. No woman had ever gotten under his skin like this one had. He smoothed his dark hair into place, then ran his fingers down the length of his shirt. His attire would have to do. Why hadn’t he visited the barber yet?
Taking the steps by twos, he entered the one-room school, flowers in hand. The
teacher hummed as she wrote arithmetic problems on the blackboard. Funny, he didn’t remember her figure being so ... straight. It reminded him of the track he laid across the Texas prairie. Where were the curves he remembered? Never mind. Best not to linger on those thoughts.
He grinned as her humming grew more animated. “No caterwauling today, Miss Sutton?”
The teacher faced him.
Heat flashed up Benjamin’s neck. Small beady eyes peered at him through wire spectacles perched atop a pointy nose. Not only were the curves missing—so was Miss Sutton.
“Umm. Uh.” Benjamin swallowed the lump in his throat that had nearly choked him dead. “Excuse me, ma’am. I expected someone else.” He tipped his head and fled the way he’d come.
Once outside, he sat on the second step, his arms folded around bent knees. This had to be the right place. How many schools could a small town like Catoctin Creek boast? He should go back inside and speak with the woman. Maybe Miss Sutton was ill and she was taking her place. Benjamin’s head lifted at the thumping of small feet trudging up the wooden steps. He sighed. It’d have to wait ’til later.
Depositing his hat back on his head, he strode to Turner’s. He wanted to check on the special order he’d placed from that new-fangled catalog.
The rich aroma of coffee mingled with the scent of pipe tobacco greeted Benjamin when he entered the mercantile. He navigated his way to the front counter, ducking an assortment of lanterns that were recently displayed from a rope hanging across the ceiling.
Malachi greeted him before his eyes drifted to the flowers in Benjamin’s hand.
Benjamin shrugged. “I seem to have misplaced Miss Sutton.”
The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed.
“I stopped by the schoolhouse this morning, but the teacher wasn’t the one I had hoped to find.”
A knowing grin spread across Malachi’s face. “You’ll find Miss Sutton at the Freedmen’s School. It’s on Hillsboro Road across from the smithy.”
“The Freedmen’s School?” Miss Fancy Boots taught Negro children? Maybe things were different here in Virginia, but in Texas, no white woman would ever be found near a Negro school, much less teaching in one. “Is that safe?”
“Some folks protested, but most of the community supports the school. There’ve been more rumblings since Miss Sutton became the teacher. The Freedmen’s Bureau promised a Negro instructor for the school but hasn’t been able to find a qualified candidate.”
Benjamin made a mental note to ask her about safety precautions while she taught at The Freedmen’s School.
Malachi studied Benjamin for a moment before he glanced at the flowers again. “Say, Benjamin. If you’re planning to deliver those to Miss Sutton this morning, I have a wagonload of supplies I need delivered there. She’s organized a work day to spruce up the place, and I assured her they would arrive no later than half past eight.”
He’d deliver supplies to the Oregon Territory if it meant spending time with Miss Sutton. “I’d be happy to help you out.”
Malachi motioned for Benjamin to follow him through a maze of barrels containing apples, pumpkins, and potatoes. “The wagon is out back.” The shopkeeper paused to shove an assortment of rakes and hoes into the corner so they could pass. “I understand Miss Sutton can use all the help she can get. So, if you have a mind to stay, I won’t need the wagon for afternoon deliveries until two o’clock.”
Benjamin extended his hand to the shopkeeper. “Thanks.”
As he climbed into the wagon, Benjamin grinned at his sudden change in fortune. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been disappointed earlier when his plans to visit with the spirited young woman had been derailed. But now, he’d not only have the opportunity to deliver the wildflowers, he’d get to spend the entire day with Miss Sutton—without her mother’s interference.
~*~
A fly dipped and soared around Ruth Ann’s face. She had taken several good swats at it, but the pesky insect seemed determined to exasperate her. Mid-September and the weather was still warm, but the towering pine trees marking the edge of the property would cast shadows across the schoolyard by noon, providing a nice haven from the afternoon sun.
She poured water into a large kettle hanging from an iron tripod. A strong fire burned beneath it, assuring the liquid would be boiling in no time at all. “As soon as this water is hot, I’ll help Sadie and Eula May scrub the floors. They’re inside sweeping now.”
Joseph nodded. “But I don’t want you carrying buckets of hot water. You get Amos or myself when you’re ready.”
“I can man—” Joseph’s arched brow stopped her mid-sentence. Hands up, she succumbed to his wishes. “All right, I promise.”
“Good. Anthony and his father are chopping and stacking firewood.” He motioned toward the Hillsboro Road. “I hear the wagon coming now. I’ll tell Malachi where to put the supplies.” Joseph pointed toward the blaze. “Keep stoking the fire.”
Ruth Ann nodded then stooped to add another piece of wood to the fire. She grabbed an iron poker and pushed the logs around, allowing more oxygen to feed the flames as she mentally prioritized the jobs she hoped to accomplish today.
“Ruth Ann, this man says he knows you.”
She glanced up at the honey-colored eyes of Mr. Coulter. A smile spread unbidden across her face before she quickly reined it in. Not entirely sure what kind of man he was, she didn’t want him to know how delighted she was to see him—not yet anyway.
He removed his hat. “Hello, Miss Sutton.”
His eyes sparkled. Could he be happy to see her too? She wiped her hands on her apron. “Joseph, this is Benjamin Coulter. I met him in town a few weeks ago. Benjamin, this is my brother-in-law, Joseph Palmer.”
Benjamin rubbed his whiskers. “Any relation to Palmer’s Livery?”
“One and the same. Have we perhaps done business before?”
Perspiration beaded on Benjamin’s brow. “No, sir.” He extended his hand to Joseph and the two men shook. “I-I’m just familiar with the establishment.”
Joseph glanced at the flowers in Benjamin’s hand, and then to Ruth Ann. “So, how did you end up delivering supplies for Malachi this morning?”
Benjamin held out his offering of wilting wildflowers. “I wanted to deliver these to Miss Sutton.” He cleared his throat. “They looked much better an hour ago.”
Ruth Ann smiled. Their fingers grazed each other as she reached for his offering. “I think they look lovely now.”
Benjamin skimmed the brim of his hat through his fingers. “I hope you don’t mind that I agreed to bring the supplies out for him.”
She didn’t mind one bit. Her gaze locked on Benjamin. “Not at all. That was very thoughtful of you.”
Joseph cleared his throat. “Benjamin, why don’t you and I unload the wagon?”
Benjamin nodded, but his eyes never wandered from hers, nor did his feet move from where they’d planted themselves.
Joseph tugged on his sleeve. “The wagon is this way.”
“Right.”
Ruth Ann bit back a grin as Joseph dragged him toward Mr. Turner’s wagon. She sniffed the bedraggled wildflowers and peeked in Mr. Coulter’s direction. My, he cut a fine figure of a man—tall and broad shouldered, with a keen wit...but that beard.
She ventured inside and rummaged through the supply closet until she found the glass bottle she’d seen earlier. It could serve as a vase for Mr. Coulter’s flowers. She returned to the water bucket behind the school clutching the container in one hand and cradling her bouquet in the other. “You’ll be looking fine again in no time,” she mused, pouring a ladle full of the cool liquid inside the jar.
Unable to shake the feeling someone was watching her, she glanced over her shoulder. No one in sight. She shrugged and continued arranging the wilting posies as best she could. “That ought to spruce them up.” Pleased with her results, she ascended the back stairs. “Won’t they be a lovely greeting come Monday morning?”
“M
iss Sutton?”
She turned to find Jolene and Missy approaching. Eyes wide, they pointed toward the ridge. “Them white men been there awhile now. What you think they want?”
Ruth Ann put a hand to her brow. “I’m sure I don’t know. Perhaps they’re curious.” She faced the frightened girls, hoping to reassure them. “Most folks around here aren’t accustomed to seeing whites and Negroes working together like we’re doing today.”
Jolene nudged her older sister. “Go on. Tell her.”
Missy lowered her chin and fiddled with a string on her sleeve. “W-we sorry to disappoint you, but we leavin’. We don’t want trouble.”
Ruth Ann gently lifted Missy’s chin. “That’s fine. I have plenty of help.”
Missy and Jolene nodded before embarking toward the wooded path behind the school.
Slipping her hand into her apron pocket, Ruth Ann retrieved the note she’d found nailed to the schoolhouse this morning. A shudder ran down her spine as she scanned the message a second time. Taking a deep breath, she marched toward the kettle and tossed the menacing letter into the fire.
Why did some folks hate others because of the color of their skin? Her eyes wandered heavenward.
Lord, heal the angry soul that wrote these vile threats and all those who think like them. May Your children learn to love one another, as You love us.
She glanced back to the fire. The white paper curled and turned to ash.
~*~
Benjamin lifted a fifty-pound sack of limestone from the wagon and handed it to Joseph. Joseph passed it to Amos who stacked it against the rear of the schoolhouse. He stood and wiped his brow against his shirtsleeve. Miss Sutton tossed something into the fire. She’d left her fancy boots home today, but even in her work dress, her smile made his pulse race.
“Ahem.” Joseph stood next to the wagon, arms empty, awaiting the next bag of limestone.
“Oh. Sorry. Here you go.” Benjamin shoved the heavy sack toward Joseph without shifting the focus of his attention.
A Love Restored Page 7