Buckeye Dreams

by Jennifer A. Davids

  “He’s a giant,” the boy squeaked.

  “Well, he’s a gentle giant,” Mary declared, patting Jacob on the back. “What did your ma say about working here?”

  “Ma said it was fine for me to work here for as long as Mr. Kirby needed me.”

  Mary cocked an eyebrow at the young man. “Did she understand why?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The boy winced as he reached for his backside. “She understood all right.”

  Katherine chuckled along with her friend, and her heart rose hopefully. She had worried the widow wouldn’t allow her son within ten feet of her. Perhaps her prayers were beginning to pay off. She smiled kindly at the boy. “You’d best be off with them, don’t you think?”

  “Oh yes, ma’am.” Jacob ran off and called out to Daniel.

  He turned toward the boy and, catching sight of Katherine, smiled.

  A sharp thrill rose in her chest and she smiled back.

  “Thank you for lifting such a great weight from his shoulders, Father,” Mary prayed aloud.

  “Amen,” Katherine finished softly, still smiling. Suddenly remembering herself, she shook her head. Katherine Wallace, if you keep up this foolishness, you’ll deserve every bit of what’s coming to you.

  She heard Mary chuckle and turned to look at her friend. “Jacob’s a funny little thing,” she said.

  “He is, but that’s not what amuses me,” the older woman replied as they walked in the house and headed toward the kitchen.

  Katherine set the basket of eggs down on the worktable. “What is it then?”

  “You and my nephew.”

  Katherine nearly dropped the eggs she and Mary were transferring from the basket to a large bowl. “What on earth do you mean?”

  “You’re a fool if you don’t see how he looks at you.”

  “I … haven’t noticed,” she replied evasively.

  “Well I have, and he has the same look on his face as Thomas did whenever he got a letter from you.”

  “Mary,” Katherine scolded, “he does nothing of the kind.” She continued to stack eggs in the bowl for another moment or two. “Even if he does, why would he?”

  She heard her friend give an exasperated sigh. “Father, forgive me, but I would have liked to tell your family a thing or two.”

  Katherine glanced up to see a pleading look in Mary’s eyes.

  “Katherine, we’ve been over this before. When are you going to realize just how pretty you are?”

  “When the mirror finally agrees with you,” Katherine said gently. Before Mary could get another word in, she grabbed the bowl of eggs and took them to the root cellar out next to the house. She set the eggs on one of the many shelves and pulled down several jars of vegetables to take back in for lunch.

  Sometimes Mary was too kind for her own good. Pretty is the very last word she would choose to describe herself. Short, eyes that aren’t one color or another, and a head of hair that can’t decide if it’s red or brown—pretty is the last thing I am, she thought. Oh, Thomas hadn’t seemed to mind her lack of beauty, but then they hadn’t actually met face-to-face very often at all. And as far as Daniel was concerned, clearly Mary was only seeing what she wanted to see.

  Katherine shut the door to the root cellar and leaned against it as she juggled the jars in her arms. As much as she enjoyed discussing the books she’d been reading with Daniel, it had to stop. If it didn’t, she would only end up with a very broken heart. She’d realized it yesterday evening and deliberately gone to bed early.

  “Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,” she quoted to herself.

  Chapter 11

  It was easy to keep her resolve that evening. As long as the planting was going on, Simon Peter and his sons were staying at the farm during the week, sleeping in the barn. What had been going on with the Johnsons dominated the conversation in the parlor after supper.

  “Are you and your family still attending the church in Africa?” Daniel asked.

  The dumbfounded look on Katherine’s face made Simon Peter laugh heartily. He then explained how, a year or so before the war, a group of slaves had made their way to Ohio after being freed in North Carolina. They eventually came to Westerville, a virulent antislavery community south of Delaware, and the citizens invited them to stay in some abandoned cabins north of town. They stayed and prospered, prompting one of the few proslavery farmers in the area to label the town “Africa.” The new community proudly accepted the name.

  Unfortunately for Katherine’s plan, Simon Peter and his sons left late Saturday afternoon so they could spend Sunday with their family. Katherine once again managed to get by that evening with the excuse she was tired, but she knew she’d need to come up with something different or Mary would suspect she was getting sick.

  However, making up excuses was the furthest from her mind as they went to services Sunday morning. Reverend Warren had promised to speak to the body this morning. She fought the jitters as Daniel helped her down from the carriage.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and tried not to look directly at him. He’d had to wear his uniform again this week, and seeing him in it made it hard to breathe. She grabbed on to Mary’s arm.

  The older woman found her hand and squeezed it. “Trust Him,” she whispered.

  They made their way to a pew and sat down. Sadly, nothing seemed very different. Most people greeted Daniel and his aunt but ignored her. She looked around and saw hardened hearts all around her. Father, please change these hearts by the end of the service.

  May Decker came forward and played the small piano as the reverend led them all in “Just as I Am.” At the conclusion of the song, he motioned them to sit and looked soberly out over the congregation of Mill Creek Church.

  “It has been only a week since the passing of our dear president. He was a good man and a righteous man. Never was that made more clear to me than when I had the opportunity to read his second inaugural address in the newspaper only a month ago. ‘With malice toward none; with charity for all…’ Those words stood out very clearly in my mind as so noble, so Christlike. He had no ill feeling toward the South, in spite of the war. He said as much just days before he was taken from us. He sought not revenge or punishment, rather, as he so eloquently put it, to ‘bind up the nation’s wounds.’

  “It is time, brothers and sisters, to begin to heal. Even while our wounds are still raw. Who of you when you have gotten cut or burned leaves the wound to itself? What would happen to such a wound? It would become angry and fetid and you would suffer the effects of such an infection. It is the same now with our country, our community, and our church. We must bind up the wounds left in our hearts and allow them to heal.

  “ ‘Whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother.’ President Lincoln clearly understood and accepted that verse. He was a true believer. If we are to be true believers, if we are to honor the memory of our president, we must love our brothers and our sisters in Christ. Be they Northern or Southern.

  “ ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.’ Let us treat one another without malice and let us love one another as Christ has called us.”

  It hadn’t been a long sermon, but it had made its point. At least Daniel prayed it would. He watched as the preacher stepped away from the simple wooden lectern and reached out to shake Katherine’s hand.

  She took his hand readily in her own and gave the reverend a gentle smile.

  Giving her a somewhat sad smile in return, the man turned and nodded to May, who began a new hymn, the one usually played before communion was served.

  Daniel was gratified at first by the people who came up to them after services to greet Katherine. But it was tempered by their cold manner and how few made the effort.

  Frustrated, he stepped outside and walked over to the carriage.

  “I did warn you, Daniel.” H
e turned to see the reverend standing behind him.

  “I had hoped for more,” Daniel replied. “I would have thought your example …”

  “It will take more than my example to change people’s hearts. They need time and prayer.”

  Daniel sighed and changed the subject. “I didn’t see Mrs. Warren this morning.”

  Reverend Warren looked away. “She didn’t feel up to coming today.”

  Daniel was about to reply when he saw Katherine and Mary walking out the church door accompanied by May Decker. The younger girl was speaking very animatedly to Katherine, whose face was lit up by a broad smile.

  He turned to the clergyman with a grin. “Maybe there’s reason to hope after all.”

  “He’s supposed to be returning home soon,” May was saying as they approached.

  “I’m so very glad for you,” Katherine replied.

  At that moment, William and Ruth Decker quickly walked up to them. Mr. Decker looked at his daughter sternly. “May, go wait by the wagon.”

  “But, Pa …”

  “Do as your pa says, young lady,” Ruth commanded. When May had gone, she turned on the reverend. “Reverend Warren, I must say this may be the last time we grace the walls of this church with our presence.”

  “Ruth!” Mary gasped.

  “As much as this body of believers has been through, I’m surprised at you,” she plowed on. “Why, poor Adele Stephens didn’t even come this morning.”

  Daniel walked over to stand beside Katherine as she lowered her eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Decker, I noticed. But as I said—”

  “Might I remind you of the punishment the good Lord meted out to Sodom and Gomorrah? The South deserves no less for all it’s put us through.”

  “Those were unrepentant cities, Mrs. Decker,” Daniel said evenly. “Miss Wallace is a sister in Christ.”

  “And she’s always been loyal to the Union,” Mary added.

  “Be that as it may, the fact remains she makes more than one person uncomfortable,” Ruth declared. “Why, people have a right to worship in peace.”

  Several other people standing nearby nodded.

  “As you can see, we are not the only ones who feel this way. Perhaps it would be best if Miss Wallace stopped attending Mill Creek Church.”

  “Ruth, she’ll do nothing of the sort,” Mary retorted.

  “Of course not,” Daniel added.

  “I’ll do it,” Katherine said softly. Daniel stared at her, and she returned his gaze with firm eyes. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  Later that afternoon, Daniel was out back in the courtyard setting up his mother’s quilting frame.

  Both he and Mary had begged Katherine to reconsider her decision to not return to church, but her mind was made up. She said she would sit in the parlor and read her Bible while they were at services. “I’ll be able to keep a close eye on lunch,” she declared. “Even have it ready and waiting when you both get home. There’s nothing like a warm meal after services.”

  Daniel took one of the chairs he had brought from the porch and set it near the frame. Leaving it, he walked over to the garden fence and leaned against it, looking out over the poultry yard and the fields and trees beyond.

  Why, Lord? he prayed. I don’t understand any of this. You want me to farm instead of teach, and now this business with the church and Katherine… . Why didn’t You soften their hearts? He knew the words were hard, but his ma had taught him to pray without holding anything back. “He knows what you’re feeling anyway,” she had once said. “So long as it’s respectful, you might as well speak your mind.”

  He heard the screen door creak, and he turned to see Katherine walking out with a quilt top neatly folded across her arm. Mary had found it among his mother’s things. Most of the blocks had already been pieced together, and it hadn’t taken his aunt long to finish getting it ready for quilting. They realized it must have been meant for Jonah, based on the simple design and the fact Dorothy had mentioned it in her last letter to Daniel.

  Katherine smoothed her hand over it, admiring the workmanship. “This is pieced so beautifully. Your mother was a good sewer.” Seeing the look on Daniel’s face, her smile faded. “It’s all right, Daniel, really. Reverend Warren said it would take time.” She laid the quilt top over the back of the chair and joined him at the fence.

  “They’ve known you for a month and a half now. How much more time do they need?”

  “We have to give them time,” she said, raising her eyes to his. “You told me to trust God to work it out.”

  “And you can’t be present at services for Him to do that?”

  “No. It would be best if I stayed away. For now anyhow.” She looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly together as she leaned them on the fence. He knew immediately she was struggling not to touch her scar.

  “Are you doing this because you feel it’s the right thing to do or because you feel you deserve it?”

  “Daniel, the war has been hard on everyone. What the South did—”

  “Has nothing to do with you.” He took her by the arms and turned her to face him. “You are not responsible for the war. Or their heartache.”

  She looked down. “I’m responsible for what happened to Chloe. My family owned slaves. And my brother and father fought for the South.”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “But what if I am responsible for what happened to Adele Stephens?”

  Daniel stared at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Adele’s husband was killed by a Confederate soldier from South Carolina. My father was a general and my brother a lieutenant colonel. What if it was a man under my father’s command? Or my brother’s?”

  Daniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Nate Stephens was one of six men who were captured by a small group of Confederates. They were all men under my command, and they had accidently crossed the lines during the confusion of battle. I managed to sneak in and free them. Nate had a leg wound and had fallen behind when Confederates realized they were gone. When I turned to look for him, they fired.”

  “Who—?”

  “I don’t know where they were from. No one did. And no one probably ever will.” He let go of her and let his hands drop helplessly at his side. “If anyone is responsible for his death, it’s me.”

  “Oh Daniel, I’m so sorry. Ruth Decker said—” She stopped and bit her lip. “I should have known better.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It’s not yours either.”

  “I should have gone back for him.”

  “No. Then you both would have died.”

  The look of horror in her eyes told him just how deeply she cared for him, and the sweet realization struck him like a cannonball. Her eyes softened as he looked at her, and he slowly reached up and brushed a stray hair away from her cheek. An almost panicked look crossed her face, and she quickly walked back over to where she had laid the quilt top.

  If she was worried whether or not he cared for her, she had no reason to be. Daniel just then realized he’d loved her since the first moment he’d looked into her kaleidoscope eyes.

  Chapter 12

  Katherine was so dizzy she was obliged to pick up the quilt top from the back of the chair and sit down. Daniel was still looking at her, and she made a show of examining the fabric in her lap as if looking for loose strings. Had she revealed too much in answering him the way she did? She could hardly help herself. The thought of his lying dead on some Southern battlefield had torn at her heart. Why had he touched her like that?

  He’s grateful for what I said, that’s all, she firmly told herself. Someone like him would never—could never—think about me.

  She heard him walk over and continue to put together the quilt frame. Frantically, she searched her mind for something to say. “This is stitched so beautifully. Mrs. Kirby was a wonderful sewer,” she said and immediately winced, realizing she had already said as much.

  She w
as relieved he didn’t seem to take note of that fact as he slid the long poles through the holes in the I-shaped legs. “Thank you. Ma was one of the best quilters in the township. I remember Pa setting this up for her out here, and ladies from miles away would come and quilt with her.” He grabbed the other dining room chair and set it close to hers and straddled it. “Did Aunt Mary show you the quilt my grandmother made for Ma when she married Pa?”

  Her eyes brightened. “Oh yes, it was lovely.” She ran her hand over the frame. “Did this belong to your grandmother?”

  “Pa made this for Ma when they got married. Every quilt in the house was made on this frame.”

  “I found some lovely pieces of fabric in your mother’s rag bag.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “Mary told me she was saving them for your sister.”

  Daniel nodded. “Ma lost more than one baby between me and Jonah. She had Rebecca Ann before Toby. She died before she was even a month old.”

  “I’m so sorry. Do you remember her well?”

  Daniel shook his head thoughtfully. “No. I was only three. I remember Ma being sad, though.”

  “I’ll leave them be, then.”

  “Why? Were you going to do something with them?”

  “I was thinking of making a quilt with them.” She waved her hand. “I don’t have to.”

  “No, go ahead. Ma would have loved the idea of making something beautiful with her fabric.” His green eyes found hers. “I know she would have loved you, as well.”

  Katherine paused before answering, trying to get her pounding heart under control. “I wish I could have known her better.”

  “Actually you do,” he replied thoughtfully. “She was a lot like Aunt Mary.” He leaned forward against the back of the chair. “Just how did you meet Aunt Mary and Uncle John? We’ve talked quite a bit but never about that.”

  “No, we haven’t.” She looked toward the house, wishing Mary would come out. She had shooed Katherine out of the house, insisting on cleaning up the lunch dishes herself as her ankle was doing much better. But Katherine knew her friend’s true motive. Doesn’t she see I haven’t a chance with him?