The Way of Love

by Tracie Peterson

  “That you’ve come to check up on her, or that I’ve invited you to supper?”

  “Both.” Andrew laughed. “I wouldn’t want to upset her on either count.”

  Seth chuckled and stuffed the handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Let me put away my things, and we’ll go see. My gut tells me she’ll be happy for your company.”

  Andrew smiled and picked up several cut logs. “I’ll help you get this stacked.”

  It only took the two of them a few minutes to see to the wood and tools. Before he knew it, Andrew was being shown to his place at the dinner table while the rest of the Carpenter boardinghouse joined them. Faith seemed genuinely happy to see him and sat beside him before anyone could suggest otherwise.

  “I think you’ll be pleased with the food here, Captain. It might not be the same as Remli’s, but I’m betting it will taste just as good.”

  He threw her a smile. “I’m betting it’ll be better, but don’t tell him I said so.”

  Faith grinned and nodded. “I promise I won’t.”

  “Captain, how is it that you’ve come to be with us this evening?”

  He looked at the pale, thin woman who asked this and smiled. “I came to check on Miss Kenner. I wanted to see for myself that her head wound had healed properly, since one of the men on my boat was the one to stitch her up.”

  “Is he a doctor?”

  “Not exactly. He’s just had some experience.”

  She gave a huff. “That’s hardly any reason to go sewing on someone.”

  “Miss Bedelia, the cut healed quite nicely,” Faith said, doing her best to keep the peace.

  She huffed again, making sure they knew she disapproved. Andrew might have laughed out loud, but she was obviously miffed.

  “It seems irresponsible to allow such a thing, Captain Gratton,” Miss Bedelia said, reaching for a dinner roll.

  “You may call me Andrew if you like. Most of my friends do.”

  Miss Bedelia raised her head and considered him for a moment, then chose a roll. “I shall call you Captain Gratton.”

  Andrew nodded and caught the amused expression on Faith’s face.

  “Welcome to the family,” she said.

  CHAPTER 15

  Bedelia and her sister served up a tasty breakfast of pancakes and warm syrup, sausage links, and hot coffee. They were turning out to be quite useful and more than earned their keep. Nancy had confided in Faith that she had considered asking if they’d like to hire on full-time but didn’t want to offend the prideful Bedelia.

  “Your husband has already left for work. That seems terribly early,” Bedelia commented as she poured Nancy a glass of milk.

  “He likes to go early to spend time in Bible study with his boss, John Lincoln.”

  Faith had just come into the room for this exchange and could see the effect Nancy’s answer had on the older woman. “That is a very wise thing to do. Sister and I study the Word every morning before we start the day.”

  Cornelia bobbed her head. “We do indeed. This morning’s reading was from the Psalms.”

  Faith suppressed a yawn and took her place at the table. She longed for another couple of hours of sleep but knew that wasn’t going to happen. She had way too much to do. She poured a cup of coffee, then inhaled deeply and smiled. Bedelia’s coffee was stronger than Nancy’s, and Faith needed all the help she could get to stay awake.

  “Mmm, what a heavenly aroma,” she said.

  Bedelia smiled. “I do not believe my coffee is even remotely related to the heavenly realms, my dear, but I am happy that you think so.”

  Everyone gathered at the table save Mrs. Weaver and Alma. Faith couldn’t help casting a glance at the two empty chairs at the end of the table. She and Nancy had talked about the situation only the night before.

  “Let’s pray,” Nancy said, taking her seat. “Father, we thank you for this meal and all the bounty you have given. We know there are some who have nothing, and we ask that you make us mindful of them so that we might share a portion. We ask that you guide us throughout this day and make us mindful of the needs of others. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  “Amen,” Bedelia and Cornelia murmured in unison. Mimi and Clementine seemed to be just as reflective as Faith and said nothing.

  “I have something to speak to you about, Mrs. Carpenter,” Bedelia said as she passed the platter of sausages to her sister. “Cornelia and I have discussed it, and we would like to remain here permanently. We were hasty to believe that the presence of Mr. Carpenter would somehow compromise us, and now with you expecting a wee one . . . well, Sister and I believe we could be of use. We once worked at an orphanage and are quite capable with children.”

  Everyone looked to Nancy, wondering what she might say. Nancy lifted her coffee cup. “Mimi, I wonder if you might go upstairs and ask Mrs. Weaver to come down—and bring Alma.”

  Faith was surprised by her announcement but said nothing. Instead, she served herself two pancakes and passed the platter to Clementine.

  “I would be very happy to have you and Cornelia remain with us,” Nancy said after taking a sip of coffee. “You were both delightful boarders, and I had no complaints with your living here. However, there is something that might change your mind. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you about it, but it seems that just being forthright is the best way.”

  “It generally is,” Bedelia agreed soberly.

  Faith could hear the older women coming down the back stairs. She slathered butter on her pancakes and then looked around the table for the syrup. Clementine seemed to understand what she wanted and passed the ornate porcelain pitcher without being asked.

  “We’ve returned,” Mimi declared, taking her seat.

  Nancy waited until Mrs. Weaver stepped into the doorway to speak. “Something came to our attention after you and Cornelia ceased living at our house. Mrs. Weaver has a friend who has been staying with her. Alma.”

  Mrs. Weaver came into the dining room, eyes wide and full of fear. “I didn’t know you planned to do this.” Her voice was barely audible.

  “Neither did I, but Bedelia has asked that she and her sister be allowed to stay. It’s only right that we share the truth with them and hope for their silence. I must ask that of you, Bedelia. You too, Cornelia. This woman’s life depends on your secrecy.”

  Bedelia frowned while Cornelia began to eat. “I cannot imagine anything so grave.”

  Alma stepped into the room. She was, as usual, clean and neat. Her graying black hair was braided tight against her head, and her clothes were freshly pressed. Her dark eyes were just as wide as Mrs. Weaver’s.

  “Mrs. Weaver has had Alma with her since birth. Alma was once a slave but has long been Mrs. Weaver’s bosom companion and dearest friend. When they moved to Oregon, only then did they learn the laws were against them. Alma could be beaten and forced to depart against her will if she were discovered. Mrs. Weaver and her husband lived quietly in the country and hid Alma’s presence from the world. When Mr. Weaver died and Mrs. Weaver moved here, she hid Alma so that she wouldn’t be forced to live without her. I will not see them separated, and if you are to live here, you must agree to say nothing of Alma’s existence and protect her as we have all agreed to do.”

  The two women took their seats at the table and stared at the Cliftons as if their life or death would be decided by the sisters.

  Bedelia’s stern expression remained as she sized up the matter. She looked at Nancy. “Why would anyone feel the need to separate two such dear friends? Sister and I have no complaint in the matter, nor will we. The very thought of this woman receiving a beating sickens my heart.” She turned back to Alma. “I am Bedelia Clifton, and this is my sister, Cornelia. We will keep your secret.”

  Faith had liked Bedelia since their first meeting, but at this moment she could honestly say she felt love for the spinster. Bedelia was so matter-of-fact with her conclusion, so willing to accept Alma and protect her, that Faith wanted to hug he
r. It took all her restraint to keep from doing exactly that.

  “Thank you both,” Nancy said, smiling. “We weren’t sure how you would feel, and since we thought you were only staying a short time, we didn’t think it necessary to tell you about the situation.”

  “Well, it certainly explains how Virginia knew there had been a thief in the house that day we were all in church and your book was taken,” Bedelia said.

  Nancy nodded. “I hadn’t even thought of that, but of course you’re right.”

  “I remember that. Alma was scared half out of her mind,” Virginia said, taking up her napkin.

  The black woman nodded. “I sure was. A man just came into the house, bold as you please. He didn’t seem to think anybody was home, ’cause he was makin’ enough noise to wake the dead. I knew I needed to hide, but could hear him tearin’ through things. I figured he’d look in the blanket box, so I hid behind the drapes. Sure enough, he come into the room and went first thing to the box. I was shakin’ so hard, I figured he could see the drapes movin’, but if he did, he never paid it any attention. It was terrifyin’.”

  “I can well imagine,” Bedelia replied. “Just the thought of what might have happened is most alarming.”

  “Well, we’re glad it’s behind us now.” Nancy shifted in her seat and put a hand atop her abdomen. “I’m glad you accept Alma. She is a dear woman and has become our friend, just as you and Cornelia are.”

  Bedelia began slicing her pancakes, and the conversation moved from the continued repairs of storm damage and to spring planting.

  “I believe a garden would be a good thing to have,” Mimi began. “Since the yard has been damaged anyway, why not go ahead and plow up a large portion in the back, and we can plant vegetables and berries. It will help feed us, and frankly, I find gardening relaxing.”

  “As do I,” Mrs. Weaver said, nodding. “Alma and I both enjoy it. However, we could hardly allow Alma outside.”

  Nancy considered this for a moment. “I think a garden would be perfect. I’ll speak to Seth about plowing up a nice big plot. If he agrees, then we’ll do it.”

  They were nearly finished with breakfast when a knock sounded at the front door. Nancy rose and excused herself despite Bedelia’s protest that she could answer on her behalf. While Nancy headed to the front door, Alma hurried to the back stairs and made her way to her room.

  When Nancy returned, Gerome Berkshire trailed behind her like a well-trained puppy.

  “Faith, Mr. Berkshire would like to speak with you.” Nancy reclaimed her place at the table.

  Faith dabbed her napkin to her lips. “I can’t believe you allowed him in the house after all his threats.”

  “I’ve also come to beg your forgiveness, Nancy. I’ve turned over a new leaf. I am not the man I once was,” Berkshire declared. “I am even working with the government to help secure information against my former associates.” He looked contrite. “I tell you this to prove myself. Should word get out, my former associates would see me dead. So you can see that I have put my life into your hands, ladies. Surely this proves my sincerity.”

  “The Bible does say we are to forgive others,” Mrs. Weaver murmured.

  Faith pushed away from the table. “Why do you want to speak to me, Mr. Berkshire?”

  “In my desire to prove myself, I thought I would offer you a ride to the college. It’s quite cold, and I must go that way myself. It came to mind that perhaps I could be of some use to this family.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Berkshire. That was thoughtful.” Faith got to her feet. She didn’t really believe him, knowing there was probably some other reason for his actions. Perhaps he’d been instructed by Lakewood to speak to her. “I suppose it would be prudent of me to accept.”

  “Unchaperoned?” Bedelia questioned.

  “I assure you, Miss Kenner will be quite all right in my company,” Berkshire countered. “After all, even if I were the man I used to be, I should not dream of causing trouble.” He smiled. “You would all know that I would be the one to blame.”

  Again, Bedelia gave a huff and focused on her food. “People today care nothing for the respectful behavior of their parents and the rules that were put in place to preserve proper society.”

  Faith smiled to herself as she went to her room to collect her things. Miss Bedelia would be more than a little alarmed if she knew some of the dangerous situations Faith had allowed herself to get into. Why, her visiting the Morning Star without a proper escort was itself enough to render Faith guilty of the most egregious of behaviors.

  As she buttoned her coat, Faith wondered what Gerome Berkshire’s real purpose in coming was. No doubt it had to do with Samuel Lakewood. The older man had probably asked Berkshire to speak to her, but why, she couldn’t imagine. He had to know that she held no great esteem for Berkshire. For a moment she considered rescinding her acceptance of his offer, but there was always the slim chance Berkshire might say or do something that she could share with Seth. Something that might help the investigation.

  She grabbed her satchel and headed for the front foyer. Berkshire was waiting for her and smiled as she arrived.

  “You look lovely, Miss Kenner.”

  Faith returned his smile. “It’s the same uniform and coat I’ve worn all winter.” She set her satchel on the table and took up her dark blue felt hat. She continued to speak as she pinned it carefully atop her knotted hair. “I was just pondering what your true purpose might be in coming here today.”

  “My true purpose? You wound me, Miss Kenner. Can a man not do a simple act of kindness without his motives being called into question?”

  “Perhaps some might.” Finished with the hat, Faith pulled on her gloves. “I’m ready to go.”

  Berkshire reached out to take her satchel. “My word, what are you carrying? Rocks?”

  “Books. Very thick and heavy books.” She smiled. “I can manage them on my own, if you’d like.”

  He frowned. “No. I wouldn’t dream of it.” He opened the door and held it for her. “After you.”

  For a while Faith thought their ride to the college would pass in silence. Berkshire seemed to want to speak, but he appeared confused or perplexed about it. Finally, Faith could take no more.

  “What is it that you are supposed to tell me, Mr. Berkshire?”

  He looked at her oddly for a moment, and then his brows drew together. “I didn’t realize my appearance was so predictable.”

  “As I said earlier, I presumed that you had come with a purpose. After all, you aren’t on good terms with my cousin, and our residence is hardly on a direct road from yours, if the college is the final destination.”

  “Well, the fact of the matter is that Mr. Lakewood is concerned about you and your friends. He fears that your plans are going to give people a negative opinion of the college. He wanted me to speak to you because, well, he thought perhaps you didn’t appreciate his position.”

  “In what way?”

  “He is considerably older, and I am closer to your own age.” He smiled and shrugged. “He thought perhaps you would appreciate my thoughts on the matter. He said he worried that you looked upon him as nothing more than a worried father figure.”

  Faith couldn’t suppress a laugh. “No, I saw him as an unfeeling bigot.”

  Berkshire’s eyes widened, and he began to cough. Faith waited until the shock passed.

  “You see, Mr. Berkshire, I grew up with Native people, as my parents were missionaries to the Tututni tribe of the Rogue River Indians. They were good people, Mr. Berkshire, and I learned a great deal while with them. Then the whites came and killed many of them and rounded the rest up to take to the Grand Ronde Reservation. Many died during the forced march, and many others died because there were never enough medical supplies or medicine. When the Storm King came through our land and stripped away people’s possessions up and down the coast of Oregon and Washington, Grand Ronde suffered too. My friends and I only desire to ease the discomfort of those who hav
e nothing. We want to honor the Bible’s admonishment that we consider others as better than ourselves and love others as Christ loved us. We seek only to raise money to provide medicine and supplies for a people who have no chance to acquire those things for themselves.”

  Berkshire looked at her for several long moments before speaking. “You must know that those people have no regard for you except a desire to see you dead. They might have called you friend once, but given all that has happened to them, they have grown to hate all whites—yourself included. The Indian men would see you as nothing more than a woman to be used. They would—excuse my bluntness—rape you and then most likely scalp you. They would not care at all that you wanted to love them as Christ loved others, because they have no understanding of who Christ is. They are heathens.”

  “That is not true. Many of them accepted Jesus when my parents shared the gospel message. Many are accepting Him every day. My aunt and uncle are missionaries to the Indians. They have told me that many are willing to receive Jesus. They crave the truth and listen to the Bible eagerly. And even the ones who don’t accept Christ . . . it doesn’t mean they’re all violent.”

  “Your aunt and uncle would of course say that. Their livelihood depends on it.”

  Faith laughed. “Their livelihood? You think they are paid by the government or a particular church? They receive most of their support from our family. Too many men who think exactly as you do populate the churches and refuse to see the ministry as one called for by the Lord. Although, when the Bible says that we are to go and make disciples of all men—that we are to preach the gospel to all nations—I hardly see how they figure that excludes the Indians. But raising money amongst white churches for people of color is often frowned upon.”

  “And well it should be. There are enough white people who have need that we should focus our attention on them first. We need to take care of our own people before worrying about theirs.”

  The carriage came to a stop, and Faith shook her head and gathered her things. “You may tell Mr. Lakewood that we students plan to move ahead with our fundraiser even if we have to stand atop a soapbox on the street corner to do so.”