A Man With a Pure Heart

by Linda Tillis

  The door opened slowly, and Mae peeked around the corner. Her eyes filled with tears the minute they found Samuel. She waddled across the room, her seven, almost eight months of pregnancy very much in evidence. Samuel stood and took her in his one good arm as she circled his waist with both hers. Samuel understood the feelings running through her.

  It may have been six years past, but he would never forget the rage that had run through him when he saw Mae, battered and bloody from the attack made on her then.

  She finally wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “It’s a good thing you didn’t go and get yourself really hurt, or I’d have been very angry with you.”

  Samuel softly kissed the top of her head and sat back down.

  “Mae, how did you make it through your ordeal?”

  It broke Mae’s heart to hear the fear in Samuel’s voice.

  “Oh, brother, she’ll work her way through all this. After all, she has you! Edward said he was sure, once she knew you were here with her, she would come out of this.”

  “But I was not there when she needed me most,” Samuel whispered.

  Mae replied, in her very best mother-tone, “Samuel Hinton, you don’t get to decide when she might need you the most. That is up to Kathleen and the good Lord. You are here now, and that’s what matters right this moment. Now, I’m going to have Cook send in some food for you. Edward told me I could have ten minutes only, and then I have to go back to bed. So you eat something, and after that you have one of the boys shove your bed over here next to Kathleen. Then you can just rest here all night and talk to her.”

  Good to her word, Patrick and Cyrus came in and arranged his bed next to Kathleen’s. Martha visited with a tray of beef in broth, bread still warm from the oven, and pumpkin pie. She changed the bedding on Samuel’s bed while she fussed over his lack of appetite.

  “I’ll just leave this tray, and you can eat whenever you get hungry. The doctor says he’ll be in to check the little missy in a while.”

  Samuel gave her a weak smile in return as she quietly closed the door behind her.

  He had eased into a light sleep when whispers reached his ears. He was immediately awake and extended a hand to touch Kathleen.

  She appeared to be having a conversation with someone.

  “But it hurts too much. I just want to drift away.”

  He cupped her face in his left hand. “Sweetheart, can you hear me? It’s me, Samuel. Please, love, you must wake up.”

  She continued to plead with someone. “But I don’t want a life without him.”

  Samuel was becoming alarmed. It sounded like she was resigning herself to death.

  “Kathleen, wake up! Listen to me, not whoever is in your head. I need you here with me now. Wake up.”

  Samuel had not realized he was shouting until Edward burst into the room. “What the heck are you doing, Samuel? Why are you shouting?”

  Samuel turned toward Edward, and Edward was shocked by the fear he saw in those golden eyes. In six years, he had never seen Samuel frightened, or even concerned, about anything except Mae.

  “Do something, Edward! Make her wake up, please.”

  Edward was humbled that this extraordinary man, this hero to every female in the county, would be begging him to do something. He put his arm around Samuel’s shoulder.

  “Samuel, take a deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s good. Now, it is not I you should be pleading with.”

  Edward could see that it took all of thirty seconds for the answer to come to him, and that delay was probably because of the drugs still in his system.

  Samuel turned to the bed, sat in the chair, and took Kathleen’s hand in his.

  Edward could hear him praying as he slipped back out the door.

  Epilogue

  Samuel had prayed. And Kathleen had wakened.

  Samuel stood at the French doors in the parlor as Charlotte ran circles around Kathleen. Kathleen sat in a chair, with her feet on a stool, covered by a quilt made by Mae and her mama years ago. A sunbonnet shaded her eyes as Charlotte danced and sang for her. Edward said it would take some time for Kathleen to regain her strength.

  The county had called in a new teacher right away, and Kathleen had been here at the manor for a month now.

  There was something Samuel needed to do, but he had waited until Kathleen had recovered enough to go with him. It would make for a long day, but Edward said as long as she didn’t overdo physically, it would be all right. They would leave early in the morning.

  ****

  “Yes, I know it’s a surprise, but can’t you at least tell me where the surprise is located?” It was useless to plead, but she enjoyed the teasing look on Samuel’s face.

  “You know what? The time would go by much faster if you lay down and took a nap, like I promised Edward I would make you do. Just lay your head on my thigh, and when you wake we will be there.”

  She was a little tired, which she would never admit to Samuel, so she pouted.

  “All right, if you won’t tell me where we’re going, I may as well go to sleep.” She laid her head on his lap, pulled the quilt up to her chin, and drifted off to sleep.

  As he drove, Samuel would occasionally glance down at that glorious hair and give a prayer of thanks that she was safe.

  After today, Samuel could put all this behind him and start planning his future. One that included this wonderful woman and at least two or three children.

  ****

  “Sweetheart, we’re here. Wake up now.” Samuel spoke softly, stroking her face.

  Kathleen’s eyelids fluttered as she stretched her long legs. When her feet hit the motorcar door, she remembered they had been driving. She sat up and looked around her. Good grief! They were in a cemetery.

  She looked at Samuel, her confusion apparent in those green eyes.

  “We drove all this way to visit a cemetery? And where are we, anyway?”

  “We are in Trenton, where I used to live. My mother is buried here, and I need to speak with her.”

  Kathleen was a little taken aback, but she loved this man so much that nothing he did could be odd in her eyes.

  Samuel lifted a blanket and a basket from the trunk of the motorcar. He held out a hand to Kathleen. “Come. It’s not far, and there is someone I want you to meet.”

  It was a small, well-kept cemetery, with only a handful of graves. They moved to the far side. There beneath a towering magnolia was a single well-kept grave. The headstone read Ruth Hinton, daughter of the Lord, adored wife, beloved mother.

  Kathleen’s eyes filled with tears. What must it be like to be so beloved by your family, she wondered.

  Samuel spread the blanket on the ground and took Kathleen’s hand as she sat beside him.

  “I wanted to talk to you about many things, Kathleen, and I believe this is the best place to do that. My life has changed a great deal since I met you.” Samuel raised her hand to his lips, then smiled as he saw the blush bloom on her pale cheeks.

  “Tell me about your mother, Samuel. What was she like?”

  Samuel gave her his half-smile. “Be careful what you ask for, sweetheart. Seriously, that is why I brought you here today. To tell you how I feel, what I think, and what I want. And my mother is a great part of all that.”

  Kathleen smiled, leaned back against the tree, and made herself comfortable. “Well, I am your willing audience. Talk away.”

  “You know I was only eight years old when Mama passed on. For the next three or four years, Mae was the only female influence in my life. And then, one day, a strange thing happened. It didn’t seem strange to me, but I wasn’t sure how the rest of the world might feel, so I kept it to myself.” Samuel stopped here, and turned to look Kathleen right in the eye. “My mama started speaking to me. Oh, not long conversations. Just occasionally she would tell me something I needed to know. Like the day she told me we needed to close the sawmill and go home ’cause Mae needed us.”

  The smile had left Kathleen’s face,
and her hand had tightened its hold on Samuel’s.

  “Are you saying your mother actually spoke to you?”

  “Yes. And the day Mae was almost killed, I saw Mama. There were others present, but they neither saw nor heard her. I talked with Pa about it later that day. I was sure he would think I was losing my mind. But he assured me that I was not. I see that you may have some thoughts on that matter yourself.”

  Kathleen had been looking down at the blanket. She immediately raised her eyes to meet his and gently touched his cheek, as she answered, “Oh, no, Samuel. You are one of the strongest, sanest persons I know, and I more than anyone…” Her voice trailed off as she stared across the cemetery grounds.

  “What, Kathleen? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “Samuel, we haven’t yet talked about what happened between me and my sister’s murderer. I know you have wanted to ask me questions. And I know that Dr. Finch probably told you to give me time. Well, it’s time.”

  Kathleen raised her knees, wrapped her arms around them, and began talking.

  “You already know that I did the one thing you told me not to do. I went out without the gun.” Kathleen continued, telling him about the spider in the woodpile, which led to the broken lamp and the fire, and how Nash had actually saved her from being burned alive. She went on to speak of being afraid, of being sick from the spider bite and then from the cold rain.

  “And then, well, I thought I was hallucinating. I kept hearing a voice. And each time I was about to do something dangerous, like try to fight, or yell, the voice would whisper in my ear. She kept me from making things worse, and she said, more than once, ‘All will be well.’ ” Kathleen was staring across the cemetery, caught up in her telling, and failed to notice how pale and still Samuel had become.

  “And then, the morning he left me, I was so frightened of being left tied to a tree that I was going to beg him to take me with him, and she appeared. I could see her across the clearing. I turned to her and told her I didn’t want to die there, and she said not to worry, that ‘all will be well.’ Nash grabbed me and shook me, yelling that there was no woman there. So I just agreed. But I could see that he was very frightened.”

  She turned to Samuel and could see tears in his eyes.

  “What did she look like, this woman that you saw?” he asked softly.

  Kathleen considered a moment. “Well, she was almost as tall as me. She had very long, dark hair that hung loose, in waves.” She paused a moment. “And…oh, dear Lord, she looked like an older version of Mae!”

  She grabbed Samuel’s hands. “Samuel, she told me that she was there when your heart first beat, and that she was there when you realized that…that you loved me.”

  Samuel slowly took Kathleen in his arms, and held her close to his chest. “Kathleen, I see you have already met my mother.”

  They sat quietly, in the shade of the magnolia, letting their minds absorb the moment.

  Samuel was the first to speak. “She came and spoke with me, when Edward could not get me to waken. She told me you were alive, but that I would have to wake up and talk to you, because you thought I was dead and that you didn’t want to live. She also told me that she was leaving me, finally, after all these years, because I had you now. That you would be taking over my care, from this moment on.”

  Samuel leaned away from Kathleen, and looked into her tear-filled eyes.

  “I think you should know that Mama is never wrong about these things.” With a grin, he continued, “I think you’re going to have to marry me.”

  As Kathleen wiped tears from her eyes, she laughed. “It will be my greatest honor to marry you, and to hold your pure heart in my sacred care.”

  They held each other closely, as their minds looked ahead to the life they would share.

  Somewhere in the distance came the call of an owl. Within seconds, there was an answering call.

  If you enjoyed A Man With a Pure Heart, you’ll want to watch for Linda Tillis’s next book from The Wild Rose Press, Inc. Here’s a sample:

  A Heart for

  All Time

  by

  Linda Tillis

  Chapter One

  Asheville had some of the finest antique stores in the South, and Sarah was looking for something unique and affordable. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend a three-week vacation.

  “Oh, shoot,” she said aloud, as she pulled the truck over to check her GPS. She must have written the address down wrong. She looked all around but could not find “Aunt Grace’s Notions” anywhere. She was about to give up and go find some lunch, when she saw a small sign down an alley. She eased the truck down the narrow brick-lined lane, and there it was.

  She was looking at a small building with green shutters. From the outside, it might have been any small, faded family business. But once Sarah stepped inside, she felt a shiver run across her shoulders. She knew she was going to find an exciting treasure here. The building was deceptively small from the outside. There were cases filled with glassware and old jewelry pieces. She could see the owner had set up little vignettes here and there: a beautiful chair accompanied by a Louis XIV side table; elsewhere a wingback chair with a matching brocade footstool.

  Sarah must have been wandering around for at least twenty minutes when she heard a soft voice.

  “Were you searching for something in particular, dear?”

  She turned to find a slender woman standing behind her. Sarah had been startled by the voice, but now she stood speechless. The woman’s head was covered in shiny, jet-black hair, except for an inch-wide streak of pure white that ran from the left temple back to a lovely chignon. Her prominent cheekbones and Romanesque nose spoke of Native American heritage, but her eyes were a deep, dark blue.

  She smiled at Sarah and tried again. “Were you interested in furniture, jewelry, or maybe pottery?”

  Sarah reddened as she realized she had been staring at the woman.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare, but you remind me of a beautiful old painting that belonged to my aunt.”

  The woman stood silent. After another embarrassing pause, she turned and started down an aisle.

  “Come along, dear. I pride myself on helping people find just what their hearts desire.”

  As Sarah followed her, she realized why the woman looked so familiar. It wasn’t just the hair; the woman wore a suede dress that hung loosely against her slim body. The neckline was covered in beautiful bead embroidery.

  Sarah shook her head. She would have to look more closely at the painting in the den, but she was willing to swear this woman could have stepped right out of it. How odd.

  The woman halted behind a glass case and observed Sarah, as if interested in her reaction.

  Sarah looked down into the case and drew in her breath slowly. Her heart began to pick up its rhythm. She was seeing some of the most breathtaking pieces of beaded jewelry she had ever come across in all her shopping trips. There were bracelets, brooches, and necklaces of all shapes and sizes.

  One piece held her frozen to the spot. It was an upper-arm bangle. The shape, a winding snake, was common in a piece of this type. It was the jeweled look of the beads that called to Sarah. They were arranged in such a pattern as to perfectly resemble a diamondback rattlesnake with its head drawn back, as if ready to strike. The eyes were a golden-colored glass that seemed to speak to Sarah. She was so engrossed in study of the piece that she was startled when the woman spoke.

  “She is lovely, isn’t she?”

  Sarah stuttered, “Excuse me?”

  “The goddess. She is lovely.”

  “The goddess? Do you mean the snake?” Sarah raised her eyes to the woman. The woman was smiling indulgently, as if Sarah were a child drooling over a piece of candy.

  “Would you like to try it on?”

  Sarah watched eagerly as the woman opened the case and removed the bangle.

  Sarah was not a thin girl. She carried twenty pounds more than her doctor was
happy about. Years of working in the garden, carrying a rifle in the woods, and pushing first Aunt Thelma and then Uncle Frank in a wheelchair had developed some muscle in her upper arms. She felt a moment of insecurity as the woman extended the armlet. She would be embarrassed if it was too small.

  It happened so quickly that Sarah was not sure what she’d seen. It was almost as if the bangle had come alive and wrapped itself around her upper arm.

  “It fits you perfectly.”

  When Sarah glanced at the woman, she thought she saw traces of a smug smile; as if she knew something Sarah did not. Sarah thought she must have imagined it.

  “Yes,” Sarah sighed, “it does fit nicely. And it’s beautiful. But where in the world would I wear it?”

  Sarah looked back in the case and saw a piece she had not noticed before. A beautiful arrowhead made of Tennessee Paint Rock Agate. It was suspended from a rope of aged rawhide.

  “Now that, that would better suit my style.”

  She reached down to slowly remove the bangle from her arm. As she pulled on it, she felt a quick burn. She looked down at her arm. The bangle had come off easily and lay in her hand, but something on it must have caught on her arm, because she saw two little drops of blood where the bangle had been.

  “Oh, dear,” the woman exclaimed, “I am so sorry. You must have scratched yourself.” She immediately produced a tissue and wiped away the droplets.

  Sarah could barely see where they’d been. She handed the bangle back to the woman. “Could I see the arrowhead?”

  “Of course.” The woman placed the beautiful bangle back in the case carefully and then handed the rawhide rope to Sarah.

  She held the smooth, cool, agate piece in the palm of her hand as she asked, “How much for this one?”

  The woman smiled sweetly. “I’m not even sure where that piece came from. It is rather plain, don’t you think? How about I just give it to you as an apology for the scratch?”

  Sarah considered those dark blue eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes, I am sure. Your heart says you must take this piece.”