A Love Restored

by Goshorn, Kelly;

  Neil’s lips inched upward.

  “What are you so happy about, Neil?” The sharp edge of frustration had returned to Benjamin’s voice. “I’m miserable.”

  “Yes, you are, son.” He slapped Benjamin on the shoulders, his slight grin stretching into a broad smile. “Praise God. The first step to healing is a contrite and broken spirit.” He rocked back in his chair, front legs off the floor. “Once we are broken, then God can refashion us in His image. So just like we talked about a few moments ago, you need to pray specifically for God to purge this need you have to win the approval of men so your heart will be pure before Him.”

  Benjamin’s fingers strummed against the white table covering. “You believe this will work?” Skepticism rang in his words.

  Neil stared at Benjamin’s fingers.

  He followed Neil’s gaze. “Sorry.” He reached for his coffee mug to busy his idle hands.

  “Absolutely. God has never failed me yet, and He won’t fail you either. He wants to heal us so we can live lives of joy and blessing. He doesn’t want to see us enslaved to Satan’s lies.”

  “All right, I’ll try this.” Benjamin gritted his teeth and swallowed the emotion that fought to erupt from within. “Will you pray with me?”

  “I’d be honored.” Neil leaned forward, gently returning all four chair legs to the floor. He nodded and placed his hand on Benjamin’s shoulder.

  “Lord, I come before you with a broken and contrite heart. Forgive me of my sin and foolishness—my pride and arrogance. I only desire Your approval, God. Give me a sound heart, Father, and heal the rottenness in my bones. Amen.”

  He glanced at Neil. This man was more of a father to him than his own—at least in the spiritual sense. Where would he be without Neil? “Thanks.”

  “I love you like my own son.” He slapped Benjamin on the back. “Now be vigilant. Temptations will come. Satan won’t want you to experience the fullness of freedom in Christ and all the blessings God has in store for you.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.” Neil retrieved the blue crock from the hutch. After removing the lid, he offered it to Benjamin. “Oatmeal raisin.”

  He removed two cookies and set them beside his mug. “Do you think Ruth Ann will forgive me?”

  Neil searched Benjamin’s eyes. “I think she will—in time.”

  Benjamin smiled, relief flooding his beleaguered heart as he dunked the baked treat in his coffee.

  Neil stood, pushing his chair under the table. “But forgiveness doesn’t necessarily mean your relationship will be restored, Benjamin.”

  The cookie slipped from Benjamin’s fingers into his mug. Coffee sloshed over the rim onto Mrs. Peterson’s crocheted tablecloth. “But why would God have us go through all of this if we aren’t to marry?”

  Neil’s eyes softened. He leaned forward against the back of the chair. “I don’t pretend to know the will of God, and I’m not saying you won’t ever marry Ruth Ann, but God will have to heal her heart, too. She will need to walk in obedience and trust you again if you’re to marry.”

  The momentary peace after praying with Neil disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. He couldn’t imagine his life without Ruth Ann in it. “But I’m confident God told me Ruth Ann would be my wife.”

  “Then pray fervently for her as well, Benjamin, that she would be healed, too.”

  Benjamin’s eyes narrowed. “Neil, is there something you’re not telling me about Ruth Ann. You said she needed to be healed, too. What did you mean by that?”

  Neil sat again, straddling his chair. He took a sip of coffee and paused. “I may be breaking a confidence in telling you this, Benjamin, but I think it’s important for you to understand the spiritual battle that’s going on here—a battle not only for your hearts and souls, but for Ruth Ann’s life.”

  Benjamin sat up straight in his chair. “What are you talking about?”

  “Charlotte and Trudy have prayed with Ruth Ann several times in the last week. After you told her about your issue with her figure, she came close to swallowing an entire bottle of laudanum.”

  “W-what?” Benjamin scrambled to comprehend Neil’s words. “W-why would she do such a thing?”

  “Just as you have spoken lies to yourself, others have done the same to Ruth Ann. Falsehoods she internalized and twisted in her mind. Untruths that distorted the reflection she saw in the mirror and prevented her from seeing herself as God does.”

  “What lies?”

  Neil held up his hand. “I’m not sure I should say any more.”

  Images of Ruth Ann drinking laudanum plagued Benjamin’s thoughts. He jumped to his feet, nearly knocking his chair backward. Slapping his hand on the table, more coffee spilled from his mug onto the already stained tablecloth. “Blast it all, Neil, you know I love her. Tell me what lies you’re talking about.”

  “She’d been told her figure would keep her from attracting suitors.”

  Benjamin remained standing, his hands spread across the table. “What else?”

  Neil angled his head, studying Benjamin over the rim of his glasses.

  “Please, Neil.”

  He pressed his lips together firmly and shook his head. “She was told gentlemen only want to court and marry women that other men will envy.”

  “Oh no.” Benjamin closed his eyes and flopped in his seat. “This can’t be.”

  Neil lowered his chair to the floor. “In her mind, she twisted that to mean no man would ever love her, so when…”

  “So when I told her that I had issues with her fuller curves, my words poured salt in a tender wound.” Benjamin winced as he recalled Ruth Ann’s eerie gasps and gut-wrenching sobs as his foolishly cruel words penetrated her heart. “What have I done, Neil? I nearly killed the woman I love.”

  Neil patted the younger man’s hand. “She’s fine. She barely drank enough to rest from her tears and the headache that followed them. Ruth Ann chose to live. She’s doing much the same as you are these days—taking those destructive thoughts captive and praying for a new self-image in Christ.”

  “She’ll hate me, Neil—forever.” Benjamin hung his head, unable to control his emotions again. “Why would God do this?”

  Neil rubbed Benjamin’s shoulder. “Regardless of how your relationship with Ruth Ann unfolds, each of you needed purging of these lies if you are ever to give and receive love unconditionally in marriage—to anyone. Hopefully, God in His infinite mercy will choose to mend your relationship. But if not, it will serve His greater purpose—each of you having a more abundant life in Christ.”

  “But that’s not enough, Neil.” Benjamin’s faint voice seeped with desperation.

  Neil stood and gathered the dishes. “It may have to be. But we’ll add praying for contentedness to our list.”

  Benjamin tucked the list of verses inside his Bible’s leather cover. No longer able to contain the brokenness inside, he called to his friend. “Neil...”

  Neil tugged him into a tight hold. “It’s going to be fine, son. Remember, God promises us that He will turn those things Satan intends for our detriment into blessings if we allow Him to have full reign over our hearts and minds.

  Benjamin clung tight to Neil, and with one heavy sigh, released all his doubts and fears to His God.

  Your will be done, Lord.

  20

  Benjamin chucked a few pieces of wood into the pot-bellied stove that heated the smithy shack. He peered through the window. A dark, moonless night awaited him. The wind howled, rattling the glass inside the sash. He slid the coffeepot forward so there would be a hot drink to warm him when he returned from his rounds then shrugged into his wool coat. Pulling his collar up against the back of his neck, he plunged into the cold—gun in one hand, lantern in the other.

  Snowflakes driven by the relentless wind stung his cheeks as he inspected the perimeter of the schoolhouse. Faint voices drifted from inside. February first had passed without incident. Captain Reynolds had given permission for eveni
ng classes to resume, but Benjamin wasn’t convinced the threat had diminished.

  They were biding their time.

  Progressing to the wood shack, he examined the frozen ground. Boot prints. He glanced at the school. Should he inform the captain? His eyes flitted back to the imprints in the snow. He’d investigate a little further before raising the alarm. Nate and Edward held positions in the brush beyond the tree line on the northern and western sides of the building. He’d check in with them on this round.

  The tracks continued to the well. His boot kicked something hard. He lowered the lantern—a whiskey bottle.

  An owl hooted.

  He jerked upright, blood pounding in his veins. Stay calm and focus. Ruthie depended on him, even if she didn’t know it.

  Fighting against the wind, Benjamin followed the snowy trail to the privy. The prints stopped in front of the door. Were the impressions a sign of danger or merely one of the men from class who’d taken a swig of booze on his way to the outhouse? He bent on one knee and once again examined the ground. Raising the lantern, no boot prints returned in the direction of the school. He inched forward and found another set of fresh tracks joining those he’d been following. Benjamin scooped a small mound of packed snow in his palm and raised it to his nose. The crisp smell of snow mingled with whiskey and…kerosene.

  Horses whinnied.

  The wind whipped around the outbuildings and trees, but he was certain the sound hadn't come from the direction of the smithy. He flattened himself against the side of the privy and slowly cocked the hammer on his revolver. Breathlessly he waited, listening for sounds of horses or men moving in the brush. A dim light moved beyond the thick stand of pines—Nate.

  Snowflakes clung to his lashes, obscuring his view. Easing around the corner of the outhouse, he peered into darkness, straining to see. He ran across the open yard toward the light and the cover of brush.

  “Nate? It’s Benjamin.”

  Between the gusting wind and the pounding in his chest, Benjamin couldn't hear any response. He continued moving along the perimeter calling for Nate.

  Then he saw it again.

  The dim light flickered a few hundred feet away, off to his left this time. Was it his imagination, or had he become confused in the darkness? An uneasiness settled in his gut. He glanced over his right shoulder. Nothing. Again, he called for Nate with no response. A cold prickle catapulted from the nape of his neck to the tips of his fingers. Something was awry.

  Enough stalling. It was time to alert Captain Reynolds. But what if he was wrong? What if he’d merely become disoriented? He’d look a fool. His gaze darted to the schoolhouse. Ruthie was inside. His pride no longer mattered. If he’d learned anything these past few weeks, it was the necessity of taming that beast. Selfish pride made him turn away from the only woman he’d ever truly loved. He would not allow it to jeopardize her safety as well.

  Committed to his choice of action, Benjamin barreled along the tree line until he was even with the rear of the schoolhouse. Leaving the cover of the tall timbers, he charged toward the building and the protection it would afford. Multiple lights glowed through the woods on the opposite side of the school, halting Benjamin mid-stride. The eerie wail of a wounded animal pierced the night air. Men on horseback charged from the trees, torches in hand. Their faces covered with white flour sacks, two holes cut for their eyes. A half dozen more joined the assault on foot.

  “Captain!” Benjamin raised his revolver in the air and fired a single shot before a punishing blow to his back dropped him to his knees. A second strike across his shoulders knocked him forward onto his palms. Throbbing pain pulsated through every muscle between his neck and his waist. He groaned and lifted his chin, eyes honing in on the school. Had the captain heard his warning?

  “Ooooof.” A stiff boot connected with his gut, flipping him over, forcing the air from his lungs.

  “Ruthie.” Gasping for breath, Benjamin’s voice fell flat, no match against the wind. Wincing, he grunted as he forced himself off the frozen schoolyard. He had to get inside. Had to protect her.

  Once upright, he lunged at his attacker, sending them both crashing to the ground. Benjamin scrambled on top of his assailant and pinned him down. He raised his fist, ready to return some of the punishment the man had inflicted.

  Gunfire rang in his ears.

  Searing heat punctured his shoulder.

  He listed sideways then descended into darkness.

  ~*~

  A cold shiver coursed over Ruth Ann as the spine-chilling cry echoed on the wind.

  Captain Reynolds ran to the window and shoved the curtain aside.

  Ruth Ann hurried beside him. Men and horses moved in the night. Bright lights bounced in the darkness—torches. Even the strong wind couldn’t mask the distinct crack of gunfire. Her knees wobbled like Myra’s peach jelly, and she bit back the impulse to scream.

  The captain grabbed his revolver from its holster and spun to face the others. “We’re under attack!” With decisive urgency, he barked a series of commands.

  “Francis, ring the bell! We need more men from town! Isaac, give him cover.”

  “Miss Sutton, stay with me!”

  “Everybody out! Men first, take your stand! Women, head for the trees!”

  Gunfire erupted.

  Bea’s eyes bulged from their sockets. “They’s gonna kill us.”

  Women stampeded toward the rear exit, knocking over benches, sliding on slates and books that littered the floor.

  The bell tolled, pleading in the darkness for men to join their defense.

  Captain Reynolds grabbed Ruth Ann’s arm. “Come on. Let’s get you to safety.”

  Bullets pierced the window.

  “Get down!”

  Ruth Ann dropped to the floor, covering her head as broken glass sprayed overhead.

  Using his elbow, the captain knocked out the remaining glass from the pane then fired his weapon. “Is everyone else out?”

  She lifted her head just enough to glance around the classroom. “I think so.”

  Staying low, the captain hugged the wall as he made his way to the rear door. He motioned for Ruth Ann to join him. “Stay close behind me. When I tell you, run for the trees. I’ll give you cover. Don’t look back and don’t stop until you make it to the creek. I’ll follow if I can.”

  She nodded and drew close behind the captain. Gun raised, he opened the door and peered outside.

  Crack!

  The captain stumbled backward, knocking her off-balance. Blood oozed from a hole in his side as he slid to the floor.

  “You’re—”

  He kicked the door closed with his foot. “Shove the chair under the knob! Now!”

  She grabbed the chair and did as instructed.

  He lifted his finger to his lips and shook his head.

  “Come on out, Captain. We know you’re in there.”

  The pounding in Ruth Ann’s chest matched the heavy fists pummeling the door. How would they escape? She snapped her attention toward the front door. Why wasn’t the bell ringing? Her eyes darted to the captain.

  He grunted and leaned forward. “Get under your desk. Do you have the knife?”

  She instinctively slid her hand to the garter strapped to her calf. “Yes.”

  “Good. I have to keep that bell ringing. Stay put until I, or someone you know, comes for you. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded and watched as he crawled along the wall beneath the windows. “Be careful,” she whispered.

  He looked back and motioned for her to get underneath the desk.

  Knees to her chest, Ruth Ann crammed herself into the tiny space. She retrieved the knife from its sheath and held it between her trembling hands. Closing her eyes, she rehearsed the captain’s instructions.

  Thrust the blade upward, swiftly, as hard as you can. You’ll only get one chance.

  One chance. Lord protect us—

  Glass shattered.

  ~*~

  Be
njamin groaned and lifted his head, his body slumped against a wagon wheel. His breathing labored, he forced air in and out of his lungs. How had he gotten here? The stink of blood and gun powder permeated the air. Prickly heat radiated through his shoulder and down the length of his arm leaving his right hand numb. He opened and closed his fist several times before shaking his wrist. He’d be of no use in this dogfight if he couldn’t hold a weapon.

  Vigilantes whooped and hollered. “This is what happens to darkie lovers!”

  He jerked as a rifle fired above his head.

  Edward squatted beside him. “You’re awake. How’s your shoulder?”

  “Feels like it’s on fire. Where’s Ruth Ann?”

  “Not certain, most likely hiding in the woods. Captain Reynolds emptied the school after your warning shot. The women headed toward the creek. A couple hoods followed them. I’m hoping Nate can take them. He’s still out there.”

  Gritting his teeth, Benjamin compelled himself upright and leaned against the sideboard. He tenderly examined his side and flinched. A couple broken ribs would certainly explain the nagging, pinching pain. Instinctively, his good hand remained at his side, as if it offered some measure of protection.

  Edward eyed him. “You sure you can stand?”

  “I’ll be…fine.” The words, more strained than he would’ve liked, didn’t sound convincing to his own ears. He scanned the schoolyard littered with bodies. Dead or injured? How had this happened? They’d been patrolling for weeks and watching both the Hamilton and Hench farms.

  “Why isn’t the bell ringing?”

  Edward lined up his sights and fired then removed shells from his coat pocket and reloaded. “Ringer and his cover’s been shot. Probably killed.”

  With unsteady fingers, Benjamin checked his gun and added three rounds to his Yellow Boy repeater.

  “I’m trying to keep those men by the steps from entering the school. Someone’s firing from inside. One of the hoods just fell.”