I motioned Bess over. “Where’s the pastor?”
“Oh. He said he was goin after your brother.”
They was no movin. My body couldn’t hold its own weight. Justice was here, so all I could do was pray. Pastor Jess had gone after Calvin. Lord have mercy. This was not what I wanted.
“My bag. Where’s my bag?”
Bess shuffled across the floor to a shelf. “I stuck it away for safe keepin. I know what you carry is important.”
I mouthed, “Thank you.”
The sound of horse hooves echoed through the cabin. “Looka there. It’s the pastor.”
I heard voices, and before I could turn to look, there stood Pastor Jess and Ely. “Where’s Calvin?” I asked.
“Hard to say. He took off. But I daresay he couldn’t have got too far off.” Ely’s dark hand wrapped around my fingers. Tears filled his eyes. “Oh, Miss Worie, I’s so sorry. So sorry.” He gently run his knuckle over my cheek. “Don’t you worry none. We’re here, and we brought someone to see you.”
I was took back when the sheriff from Hartsboro stood in front of me. He come close and bent down to my side.
“Miss Dressar, we meet again, but this time on your terms. I know talkin ain’t easy, so you do your best to just listen.” He took my hand. “I done talked to the sheriff from Chattanooga. He was about as banged up as you. He ain’t holdin nothing against you. Not after what happened on the train. He’s give me full authority to do what I need to to bring Calvin back to Chattanooga.”
I strained to talk. “Little Farrell?”
The sheriff squirmed. “Ain’t much I can do ’bout that. The pastor here is gonna contact some of his friends up north and see if they is any hope of findin her. But right now, Calvin is the briar. I’ve posted some men around Ely’s place here. If he comes around we’ll catch him.”
I tried to say “thank you,” but the sheriff shushed me, then went to laughin. “That was right nice of you, Miss Dressar, to slide them papers back under the door for me, but they wasn’t no need to give me them back. I couldn’t officially say what was in them. But I could leave them on my desk and hope you’d do what any momma would do. Miss Dressar, you’ll be well cared for here.” He squeezed my hand. “I best get to doin my job.” He patted my hand. “When I helped Calvin get the homestead, I meant no harm to you or them youngins. I was doin my job. He had them papers.” He set his hat and turned. “Even lawmen get the wool pulled over their eyes ever once in a while. We’ll make this right.” With that, he whispered a few things to Bess, then tipped his hat and was gone.
I’d never wanted to be dead in the ground any more than I did layin in that bed. Ever part of me ached, but nothing as much as my heart. It was broke for little Farrell. Would that youngin be alright? Was she even still alive? There was an emptiness in my chest. I rolled my head to the side. Tears dripped.
Momma was the one that did the prayin, teachin. I just never saw no need to talk to a body I couldn’t lay eyes on. Still, all them times Momma quoted the good word . . . stuck. There wasn’t no searchin for the understandin. It just come to me. Pray. And at that moment, I could have sworn I heard Momma’s voice . . . Somehow, I just knew we’d find a way to get through this mess. I wasn’t sure, but I figured Momma was somehow smilin down from heaven, seein my heart change.
The cabin door flew open, and in come T. J. followed by Doanie. The two rushed to my side and T. J. climbed onto me. Though pain shot me through, I wasn’t about to shun that little one. I squeezed him as best as I could. Doanie took hold of him and pulled him onto her hip.
“We come to see you, Miss Worie. Come to say we’re much obliged.” Doanie beamed as she kissed her brother. “Mr. Ely told me not to worry no more about Farrell. She is safe in the good Lord’s arms, and I believe him. I have to believe him, leastways I couldn’t sleep at night.”
“I . . . tried . . .” The words barely inched out.
“Shhh. You rest. That’s what Farrell would want.”
I knew all along the child was wise for her years. Her and Abeleen both. I wondered if that’s what happens when you become an orphan—get forced to do things you ain’t rightly ready to take on. A body either gets desperate or wise. Seemed as though the good Lord had give Abeleen an extra portion of wisdom. She would be the shoulders I could stand on while I healed.
If this was the good Lord’s way of provin His presence, then I guess He managed to make a hard heart soft.
“Let’s go, T. J. Let Miss Worie rest.” Doanie kissed his cheek again. The boy pressed his fingers to his lips and blew me a kiss.
I knew somethin had been wrong on that train. Maybe it was a nudge from the good Lord to be ready. They was somethin to be said for havin Ely and Justice at hand. The fear was easier to take. And with Pastor Jess, there was a comfort. A peace.
But there was more to come. This was just the beginnin. Calvin wouldn’t give up easy. He’d be back, and he’d be bringin the wrath of hell with him.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
I wasn’t right sure how many days I slipped in and out of sleep. When the pain would grow hard, I found myself fadin. There was only bits and pieces of memories about the train. Chattanooga. It all seemed to run together, but when I opened my eyes today, things was clear as the mornin sky.
I glanced around the room. Bess sat slumped in the pine rocker, one hand restin on her stomach, the other proppin her head. Her mouth hung open and her breathin put me in the mind of Daddy sawin a tree stump. She’d been so faithful to care for me, I didn’t dare rouse her.
I pulled myself up and dropped my feet over the edge of the bed. A long groan seeped outta me. My legs was weak, but I managed to get my feet under me and work my way to the door. It was a trick to figure how to get around my broke arm, but I finally got the door open. The mornin air kissed my cheek, and I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, lettin the sweet smell of honeysuckle fill my lungs.
The mountain air brings a newness, seeps down deep, and clears out the things that weigh heavy on a body’s soul. Despite how hard things are, it’s like the mountain is forgivin. It demands a man’s hard work to survive, but then it wraps its soul and spirit around you, claimin you as its own child.
I shaded my eyes as the morning sun peeked above the crest of the mountain. Purples, blues, streaks of pink, and then that big yellow ball peerin down. A soft breeze caressed my cheek. I was home. Or as close to home as I could be for now. There was no desire to return to the city, and short of findin T. J. the rest was nothing but regret.
My legs ached and my arm throbbed, but even with those ailin me, my feelins was tore between joy and brokenheartedness. I had some inklin of peace.
I rubbed my cheek, my fingertips gingerly touchin scabs still raw from healin. Memories of seein the happiness on Doanie’s face filled me with joy, but knowin little Farrell was still lost took what joy I had and tossed it over the bluff.
“You’re lucky your arm was all that was broke. Coulda been your neck,” a voice whispered from behind me.
“Pastor Jess,” I said. “You just put the fear of God in me.”
“It’s always a pastor’s hope to sway a heathen, but I never put that name on you.” He laughed. “I’d hug you, but I’m afraid it would just cause you more pain.”
“Much obliged.” I inched to one side of the porch rail so he could lean. “I owe you, Pastor. Doanie wouldn’t have her brother back if it wasn’t for you.”
“Sometimes bein a pastor has some advantages. But if it wasn’t for the good Lord’s mercy, if it wasn’t for Him, I’d be nothin. Have nothin.”
“Sounds like there’s a story behind that.” I gently bumped against the pastor. “Like you wasn’t always a good-hearted man?”
Pastor Jess scrubbed his fingers along his jaw, scratchin at his poor excuse for a beard. “Don’t reckon I know a soul who was perfect from the beginnin. We’re all folk with hardship and learnin behind us.”
I supposed the pastor was rig
ht, but I stopped to think, what had I done wrong to deserve this path? I was a good youngin growin up. Never give Momma or Daddy no trouble. Did what I was told, and when. There was no bad things I could think of. Nothin that I’d done that was so horrible. Then like a hard rain washin over me, I commenced to see the bad in my soul. And it hurt.
“Pastor, I ain’t never been a body like Calvin. I thought I was a good person.” I twisted to ease the pressure on that broke arm. “But I’m beginnin to see it ain’t always the things we do that makes us bad. Sometimes it’s the things in our heart and our head that makes us worse than the bad.”
Pastor Jess patted my shoulder. “This sounds like a confession.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re all ears now, ain’t ya?”
He cupped his hands around his ears.
“Bein a smart aleck ain’t right becomin, Pastor.”
“It is what it is. I done told you, we all got our skeletons.”
Skeletons was a right good word. What haunted me was my lack of compassion. Why did I not see Momma was sufferin? All I had on my mind was what she could teach me so I could learn to be a teacher. That’s all I wanted. It never hit me to think about her.
I felt tears rise. “I’ve been mighty selfish, Pastor. Maybe if I’d been less about myself and thought more about Momma, I’d have seen she was sufferin. Maybe I coulda stopped her from takin her life.”
“A body never knows the darkness a soul has to fight through. Sometimes that soul just can’t fight no more. In their eyes, death makes life easier for those still livin.”
“But Momma wasn’t a problem. She was happy. Or I thought she was.”
“Worie, you can wish and wonder till your days end, and you’ll never understand what clawed away in your momma’s head. Best you can do is stop blamin and start livin.”
“Them’s powerful words, Pastor.”
“Well, it’s truth. And truth ain’t promised to be easy, but it is promised to always be right.”
I hobbled to the edge of the porch. Ely’s rooster pranced across the rail fence, huntin for just the right place to let out his bellow.
“Reckon Ely is right? I have to believe Farrell is safe in God’s arms and hope them arms is long enough to hold her wherever she is.” My voice quivered. “I still see the fear in her eyes when Sikes yanked her away. There wasn’t a thing I could do. Nothin. And I know I keep sayin it over and over, but Pastor Jess . . . it haunts me.”
“Mr. Holtsclaw ain’t a bad man. Him and his wife try hard to find homes for lost children. Their heart is right. Their ways just ain’t ours.”
“You’d be right on that one. I’d take them little ones under my wing. I don’t take money and toss them on a train to who knows where!” I felt the anger rise in my heart. “I can’t believe you’d defend such a thing.”
“Worie, I don’t defend Mr. Holtsclaw’s way. All I’m sayin is folks manage things different. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
“Well, sending a five-year-old child on a train ain’t what I call lovin. It’s right cold, Pastor.”
Pastor Jess leaned across the porch rail and sighed.
“What?” I asked. “What ain’t you sayin?”
The look on his face spoke loud. “Maybe we need to back up and talk about that confession.”
Them words hit me like a rock. My heart opened up and bled hurt. The pastor had just slapped me square betwixt the eyes with my own misgivins. Was I wrong to be angry at Holtsclaw? The thought wallowed around in my head.
I wasn’t wrong to be angry at Holtsclaw. I was wrong to judge his intentions before I knew his plan.
There it was—laid out on the mornin breeze. I was selfish and judgmental. I was angry, stubborn, a tad hateful.
“Pastor Jess, I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me. Grateful for your part in bringin home T. J. and for savin me. But right now, I need to be left alone.”
“Good Lord likes it when you wanna be left alone.” Pastor Jess gently squeezed my shoulder.
“Why’s that?”
“He likes bustin in on your heart when you’re alone and cleanin out the muck when you’re alone. Besides, folks listen better then.” He shrugged and turned.
The mist that hid the ground commenced to lift. I watched the pastor walk down the steps and toward the creek. He seemed gulped up in the fog. Just like that, he vanished, and alone crept up the porch, wrappin tight around me.
My heart ached as I dug deep into my soul, seekin peace. Seekin understandin. Seekin forgiveness.
I had a lot of forgivin to do. There was forgiveness for Momma takin her life. I didn’t understand why, but it wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t my place to condemn her for things I didn’t know about. There was Calvin. I had no idea how to begin to forgive him. I’d never tried to figure him or his ways out. I just hated him for his meanness, never takin to heart he was filled with a reason that made sense to him. He was an orphan too.
The web of anger kept spreadin.
Momma and Daddy kept Calvin’s past a secret. They was no explanation why, but if we’d known, maybe me and Justice could have made a change in him. And Justice. That man carried a secret all his own. I needed to truly forgive him. I blamed him for not bein there when Momma took her life. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have stopped her any more than me. His drinkin was somethin inside his heart. He needed forgiveness of his own.
A cloud passed over the sun, dimming its morning light. It was like a heaviness covered me. My soul hurt worse than any part of the bruises and broken bones of my flesh. I felt like my chest would rip open.
I wasn’t sure what the good Lord wanted from me or why He’d picked me. The deeper I looked into my heart, the more of a mess I saw. Why on earth would the good Lord want a mess to deal with? And why me? Why did these little youngins bore so deep into my bein?
I remembered one of them papers Momma wrote on.
But I have trusted in thy mercy; my heart shall rejoice in thy salvation.
I don’t know Your ways, good Father, but I trust mercy and I rejoice despite my misgivins. Help me to forgive others so I can be forgiven.
Right then, in that moment, Momma made things right clear. I understood that forgiveness wasn’t for the other person. It was for me. It was what the good Lord would use to set me free and help me make my way. Right then I understood that the things that happened in the past was not who I was. They helped to etch notches in me, like Daddy when he whittled on a stick, but them things wasn’t who I was. What would make me, shape me, grow me, would be the decisions I’d make from here on out. Them things was up to me. One more time, things pointed to trust.
A peace seeped over me again. I couldn’t see my way clear just yet, but I felt like the good Lord had done just what Pastor Jess said. He butted in to my alone and cleaned out some of the mess.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
“Worie Dressar, you ain’t got one iota of business outta that bed.” Bess had roused from her sleep and come huntin me down. “You get yourself back in that cabin. You understand me?”
I tried to soothe her frustration by showin my gratitude. “I didn’t wanna wake you. I know you was tired. You’ve been so kind to care for me.”
Bess pressed both hands to her hips and tapped her foot against the hard wooden slats. She let me know right quick she wasn’t happy.
“Miss Bess, maybe I can sit out here on the porch. I’m feelin much better this morning,” I said.
She was like a bull ponderin a charge. Her foot kept right on tappin while she waited for me to move.
Ely pushed open the door to the cabin. “Lordy mercy, look at you. Standin and all.” He pulled a pine chair close and motioned for me to sit.
“Much obliged,” I said. “Miss Bess was just fussin at me for bein outside.”
Ely whirled around to face his wife. His finger wagged in her face. “This here is a blessin. I didn’t think she’d be able to walk for weeks. Let the girl alone, Bessy.
Sunshine is good for healin.”
Bess snorted and headed inside, grumbling under her breath that Ely wasn’t no business questionin her doctorin.
“That was right kind of you, Ely. I know Miss Bess is worried over me.”
“She means well. She’d have been a good momma, given a chance. She mommas anything that needs help, be it a bird, a pup, or a person.”
I wiggled to get comfortable in the chair. “She’s been good to me, Ely. You both have.”
“We do what we do for you because we love you. We owe that to Miss Louise.”
My heart was warmed. I could tell Ely was truthful. Him and Bess had always been in my life.
“Ely, can I ask you somethin?”
“Surely.”
“You and Bess has been around Momma all my life. Did you ever figure she was takin care of them orphans?”
“Louise was a generous woman. She come from down near Atlanta. They wasn’t a mountain bone in her body. She loved with the heart of the mountain.”
I was stunned. Momma never seemed anything but a mountain girl. She sure never mentioned it.
“I reckon it ain’t gonna do no harm to tell you now.”
“Tell me what?” I couldn’t imagine what other secrets Momma kept.
“Louise met your daddy when he was tradin furs. She was teachin at a school close to Chattanooga.”
“Momma was a teacher?”
“She was. Me and Bess served her in the house she lived in. We was took in by her daddy after we run from the plantation.”
“You’ve always known Momma? Even before me?”
I didn’t know what to say. Momma’s secrets just kept getting deeper and deeper. So did Ely’s. Seemed him and Momma was tied pretty tight.
I tried to push it back, but anger twisted my stomach. “Everthing I know about Momma is a lie! You lied!”
What Momma Left Behind Page 18