Better Than Gold

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  And she held off on sending her acceptance.

  ❧

  On Friday afternoon, Lily noticed Ben amid the usual group of businessmen who came to meet the train. He waved at her through the window then turned to say something to Toby, who was racing to reach the office on schedule.

  The youth laughed and yanked open the door. “Hurry, Miss Lily. There’s someone here to see you.”

  “I can’t leave until you’re sitting on this stool.” Lily rose and picked up her shawl.

  The weather had warmed enough that a coat was no longer necessary except after dark or when the wind kicked up.

  “I’m on it. I’m on it.” Toby bounded over to the stool. “What time did the train get into the station?”

  “Four twenty-six, and it’s leaving now.”

  The whistle blasted through the depot.

  “I’ll send that on to Des Moines.” Toby began turning the key. “Good night and enjoy your day off tomorrow.”

  “That’s right. It is the third Saturday.” Lily laughed at having forgotten she had a day off and exited the office.

  Ben met her outside the door. “I was helping Mr. Gilchrist haul some goods down here and thought I’d wait to walk you home.” He took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

  “I haven’t gone anywhere.” Yet.

  “I know. I’ve been busy spading gardens for Great-Aunt Deborah’s friends.”

  “But not for her?”

  “Do you plant a garden?”

  Not when I won’t be around to tend it.

  “I don’t have the time for anything more than a few flowers to brighten the place up.”

  “Maybe she’ll let me grow a few vegetables there.” As they left the depot, Ben nodded to Tom Bailyn, Lars Gilchrist, and Jake Doerfel; the latter was talking to a stranger. “You can show me how to preserve them, and I’ll reinforce that shelf before we put any more jars on it.” He grinned down at her.

  Lily melted inside at the memory of what occurred after the shelf broke. She shoved the memory away the best she knew how.

  “Ben, I won’t be here that long.”

  “You won’t?” He halted in the center of the road and faced her. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ve had a job offer in Chicago.”

  His face paled as though someone had shot him again. “When did that happen?”

  “The Monday before Easter.”

  His obvious distress made her throat close.

  “I should have known. The inspectors liked you, didn’t they?”

  She nodded.

  “I see.” He resumed walking, faster, too fast for her to keep up.

  “Stop.” She tugged on his arm.

  “I’m sorry.” He slowed. “I didn’t want to hear about you going away. I thought. . . When do you leave?”

  “I haven’t accepted the position yet.”

  “No? Well, then.” He paused and faced her, gripping both of her hands with his, a smile lighting his face in the evening sunshine. “What’s holding you back?”

  “I—I want to make sure it is what God wants for me.”

  There, she’d said it aloud.

  “I think it’s right. I prayed, and the offer came, but I can’t bring myself to answer them. I’m not completely comfortable saying yes and making the move. Mrs. Twining needs someone to stay with her, and that’ll take time to arrange. And there is the spring bazaar. I have commitments here. And—”

  No, she wouldn’t admit to him that she wasn’t yet certain she could leave him behind.

  “I just don’t know how to know what the Lord wants for me,” she concluded. “I read my Bible a lot now, but I still can’t figure this out.”

  “Then will you come for a drive with me tomorrow?” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow again, and they resumed walking. “I asked Mr. Gilchrist if I could borrow one of the buggies and take you out for a drive if the weather is fine. Business is a little slow right now with the spring planting coming up, so he said yes. I know you’re free tomorrow. Will you come? I’ll provide the picnic, and I think you’ll find it easier to seek God’s will when you’re not distracted by the noise and bustle of town.”

  “Ben, I. . .” A chill ran up her spine at the idea of going into the countryside, away from even a small town like Browning City. “I hate the quiet, with no people around.”

  “I’ll be there.” He covered her hand where it rested on his arm. “That will be enough for a few hours, won’t it?”

  She feared he was right.

  “Can we come back if I don’t like it?”

  “Immediately.”

  “Then I’ll go.”

  She regretted the acceptance the instant she said it. But she had agreed, so she would go. She tossed and turned all night, fearing that a few hours alone in Ben’s company would tip the scale in favor of her staying in Browning City. But the quiet of the night around her told her she didn’t want to stay. She wanted to leave and leave now. She didn’t know why she was being so foolish and hadn’t accepted the position in Chicago. Oh yes, because she had enjoyed herself so much at the Easter egg hunt and party. She had stayed because she felt responsible for the party arrangements. She stayed because she wanted to celebrate Easter in a church she knew. She stayed because. . .because. . .

  She didn’t have the courage to leave, just like she hadn’t left the farm until the bank sent the sheriff’s men to throw her things from the house. Only the things without value, of course. As she’d trudged to the stagecoach stop ten miles away, she vowed to never again live in the country and too far from neighbors to have help in times of need.

  But what of the story Ben had told her regarding his father?

  She remembered the tale as she readied herself to go driving with him. The city was full of people, yet no one had aided the older man.

  Soon after Ben’s arrival, she brought up the subject with him. “If people who live too far apart are strangers, then can people who are too close together be strangers, too?”

  “I wouldn’t think so over time.” Ben assisted her into the buggy and leaped in after her.

  A picnic basket took up a good third of the seat. Lily heaved it over her lap so it rested between them.

  Ben grinned at her but said nothing about her action.

  “Yes,” he said as he got the horse moving, “I think one can make friends in the city, especially if you have a church. It just takes longer. People don’t seem to be as trusting.”

  “That’s a comfort to think about.” Lily tilted her head back to feel the warmth of sunshine on her face. “When I was growing up, we didn’t have many neighbors. They were far away, and we spent most of our time with just the family. Three generations of us.”

  “Did all of them die in the epidemic?” Ben asked in a quiet voice.

  Lily shook her head. “No, Grandmomma just got old. Then Momma. . . I don’t know what took her. She just got real tired and pale and slipped away from us about a year before the typhoid took Daddy and my brother. The other women in the area were older and busy with their own families. I didn’t have any females my age to talk to until I came here.”

  “And gentlemen callers?” Ben flashed her a grin.

  She ducked her head so the brim of her bonnet hid her face. “There were one or two of those. But I couldn’t leave Daddy and Owen, my brother. And it’s too nice a day to talk about those kinds of things. Where are you taking me?”

  “To the piece of land I am going to buy.”

  “Oh.” Lily shuddered.

  “It’s only six miles out of town.”

  “Too far to get in on a weeknight.”

  “I expect so.”

  Ben steered the buggy around a farm wagon filled with children. He waved to the man and woman on the seat. They and all of the children waved back.

  “Who are they?” Lily asked.

  “The people who own the farm next to the one I want.” Ben r
ested one elbow on the picnic basket. “It’s not large, but it runs along the river and has a good stream for water. There was a house there once, but it burned down a long time ago. It’s uncultivated land except for grass, of course, and trees along the creek.”

  “It sounds pretty,” Lily murmured.

  “You sound dubious.”

  “Why are you taking me there?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Ben laughed. “I understand—don’t give me too much information about it and tell me what we’re doing today. Well, Lily, we are going to enjoy the quiet, each other, this picnic, and the Lord.”

  Lily squirmed. “The last being first, of course.”

  “Only if you choose it to be.”

  She didn’t know what she wanted to come first. She knew her enjoyment of Ben’s company was the only reason she didn’t tell him to turn the buggy around. Yet his certainty that he would purchase this particular piece of land made her wish she had stayed in town, spending her Saturday off browsing the shops or sitting in the sunshine on Mrs. Twining’s front porch and working on lace to sell at the bazaar.

  He was so committed to the life of a farmer that she should steer clear of him forever.

  But sunshine, a warm breeze smelling of grass, damp earth, and their picnic fare, and later, when they reached their destination, the food itself left her drowsy and contented.

  “It was kind of Mrs. Meddler at the hotel to make up that basket.” Lily stood up from the rock she’d perched on and began to gather the papers in which chicken, rolls, and berry preserve tarts had been wrapped.

  “I repaired one of the hanging wires on that chandelier in the dining room.” Ben rose also and held out his hand. “Let’s walk.”

  Lily slipped her hand into his and allowed him to guide her around the property. At the top of a rise, she caught sight of the road in one direction and the river in the other. The road looked empty as far as she could see in either direction. The river foamed in full spring flood between low bluffs. Its roar, muted by distance, and the song of half a dozen birds in the copse of trees by the stream feeding into the river were the only sounds she heard. Not even the ceaseless Iowa wind competed with the Mississippi for its voice to be heard.

  “I need to talk.” Lily spoke a little too loudly. “The silence makes me crazy. I was so alone on the farm for months. No one to talk to.”

  “I’ve been coming out here to talk to the Lord.” Ben’s tone was quiet. “My voice doesn’t feel lost the way it does in the racket of town.”

  “I think the Lord can hear us no matter what is afoot around us.”

  “Of course He can.” Ben smiled at her. “But can you hear Him?”

  “I read my Bible. That’s His words.”

  “Yes, but do His words come to you when you pray?”

  “I. . .never thought about it.”

  “Will you now?” Ben faced her. “Let’s take just a few minutes and pray. You have an important decision to make. You don’t want to make a mistake.”

  Because she most certainly did not, Lily agreed. With Ben, she knelt on the grass, inhaled the sweetness from their crushing the tender stalks, and began to silently talk to God. Lord, I can’t live like this, yet I am not sure I have the courage to leave after all. I don’t have an answer from You yet. Please give me an answer that makes sense to me. I can’t live this far from people. This land is pretty, but I am so scared of the quiet. I don’t like it. I can’t—

  She stopped. She heard her voice in her head, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound.

  She sprang to her feet. “I want to leave—now.”

  “Now?” Ben blinked up at her. “It’s early still, and I want to walk down to the river.”

  “Now. If you won’t drive the buggy, I’ll walk.” With that, she turned and strode for the road.

  Ben caught up with her. “Lily, what’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? I sound whiny. I’m whining to God about what I can’t do and don’t want.” She squeezed back tears. “I can’t give up anything to Him—surrender.”

  “I understand.” Ben clasped her shoulder as they reached the buggy. “I’m struggling with that myself.”

  “What can’t you surrender to God?” Lily demanded.

  Ben dropped his hand away. “You.”

  He left her side to fetch the hobbled horse. When he returned, Lily still had thought of no response. She trembled inside as though she had not eaten the hotel’s delicious chicken and tarts. Emptiness gnawed at her.

  Ben finished harnessing the horse to the buggy. “Need a hand up?”

  She shook her head, stepped on the wheel, and swung herself into the buggy. It shook beneath her. She glanced down. The ground was soft, not too wet. Perfect for plowing. It was a fine place to farm.

  Some lady would be happy to work the land at Ben’s side.

  Lily hugged herself and stared straight ahead.

  Ben climbed in beside her, and the buggy rocked. “I should have found more stable earth to leave this on. We’d better get going.”

  They headed for the road. The buggy rattled and creaked beneath them. Ben frowned but said nothing. Lily remained silent, too. She felt ill in the badly sprung buggy on an even worse road.

  Except the drive out hadn’t felt so bad. Of course, they were traveling a bit faster now, perhaps. She suspected Ben wanted to be free of her as fast as she wanted to be away from him.

  That was wrong, though. She didn’t want to be apart—

  The right wheel dropped into a rut.

  “Ouch.”

  “I’m sorry. This isn’t handling—”

  A crack splintered the quiet.

  “Hang on!” Ben shouted.

  But she had nothing to hang on to as the right wheel broke loose. It spun away in one direction. Lily flew in another. Pain roared through her skull until blackness took over.

  Twelve

  Lily came to consciousness with a groan. If she hadn’t heard herself, she would have believed she had lost her hearing. Silence lay over everything else like fog. She tried to open her eyes, but the lids remained too heavy, weighed down, she suspected, by smaller versions of the rock that had become her pillow.

  Why did she have a rock for a pillow?

  She tried to raise her left arm. Pain screamed along her shoulder. She lifted her right hand. Little discomfort. Much better. She touched her face. No stones on her eyelids. Just fatigue. She needed more sleep.

  Another groan jerked her from her torpor. That wasn’t her voice. Forcing her eyes open, she found she wasn’t at Mrs. Twining’s. She lay on the road. Remains of the wrecked buggy lay strewn a few yards away, with no sign of the horse in the shafts. Beyond that, she saw Ben crumpled like a heap of discarded laundry.

  “Ben.” She tried to stand.

  Her legs collapsed beneath her. Barely, she caught herself from landing on her face.

  “Please, Lord.”

  She didn’t even know what to pray. One thought filled her head—get to Ben.

  She crawled. Stones grinding into her hands and knees, she scuttled across the road to where Ben lay.

  Where he lay too motionless and quiet to have groaned.

  Her heart racing, Lily touched his neck. She found no pulse. His skin felt clammy.

  Memory of a fetid room, cold skin, and silence swept through her. She was alone again. Ben had left her utterly alone with no one to help her. Everything, everyone she cared about had vanished once more.

  She opened her mouth to scream.

  You weren’t alone. Mary’s words stopped Lily’s cry. God was with you.

  “Are You there, God?” she called. “Ben really needs You right now.”

  Unless nothing could help him now.

  Tensing, she moved her fingers on his neck and felt his pulse. It was weak, irregular, but it was there. She glanced around him, touched his scalp. She saw no blood, but she found a lump on the back of his head.

  “Ben, can you hear me?” She ran her fingertips acr
oss his forehead. “Open your eyes for me.”

  He didn’t move.

  “Ben, you brought me out here. Don’t leave me alone.” She started to cry. “I don’t know what to do out here. I can’t call for help.”

  God was with you.

  God is with you.

  “How can I know that?” She covered her face with her hands. “I pray for answers, and You let this happen. You leave me alone out here with someone who’s too quiet. You’ve left me.”

  Her voice grew hoarse, her sobs ragged. She was whimpering, accusing God of. . .

  Doing something He had promised never to do—leave her.

  Lily caught her breath and stared at a cloud drifting across the sky. Her head spun, so she rested it on her updrawn knees. She was reaching for something, a fullness, an understanding, an answer she knew she could reach if only her head didn’t feel like an overripe melon.

  God promised never to leave His people. Yet she felt abandoned. How could that be, since the Lord’s Word was truth? Logic. . . Logic. . .

  If God never left, and yet she never felt His presence even in her prayers, then she must have. . .must have. . .

  Become absent from God.

  “I’ve abandoned You.” She hugged her knees tight to her chest. “I prayed, but I never really believed. I never truly gave up my heart to You.”

  As she had done with fixing up Ben’s quarters and arranging parties to raise money for good causes, she had gone through the appropriate motions with God while her heart had been selfish. She filled up her life with work and play instead of devotion to the Lord.

  “I need a whole lot of forgiveness, Lord,” she whispered into the quiet. “I—”

  “Lily?” Ben’s voice interrupted her.

  “Shh. I’m listening to my heart.”

  Ben chuckled then fell silent.

  The world lay in stillness. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath while Lily stumbled through a prayer of surrender to the Lord. The quiet seeped into her mind, her heart, her soul. The shakiness vanished.

  She raised her head and gazed into Ben’s eyes.

  “Good afternoon.”

  His voice sounded rough. His eyes weren’t quite focused. Dirt smeared his face.

  “Are you in pain?” she asked.