Morning Sky

by Judith Miller

  “No need to talk—you can just sit there and listen.” He leaned back against the broad trunk of a cottonwood, and while the horse continued to drink its fill, Moses told her of his past. But this was not the minimal account that he’d given to Aunt Lilly when she had arrived in Nicodemus. Instead, he detailed the complicated story of his childhood.

  Although Jarena had set out to ignore him, she was soon captivated by his words. He explained how his mother, a freed slave, had been captured by slave runners and then sold back into slavery and how the man whom he considered his father had left him behind and had gone off in search of his mother—with neither of them ever being heard from again. Then he told her of another slave couple who came from a southern plantation and raised him—the ones whom he continued to regard as his parents.

  Moses took a molasses cookie from the basket and broke off a piece. “And don’t forget that my blood father was the same white man who had sired my mother. In truth, he was both my father and my grandfather.” He leaned back and ate the cookie, staring off toward the water. “Now here’s the most important part, Jarena: I wouldn’t change one thing in my life. There’s been pain and sorrow, but I know that God was always in control.”

  Jarena gathered up the remnants of food and packed them into the basket. “That’s easy enough said, now that it’s all behind you.”

  Moses picked up the cloth they’d been sitting on and laughed. “You’re right—it’s behind me. But that doesn’t change the fact that I lived through it, Jarena. And it was trust in God that carried me through. My life has been far more wondrous than I could ever have imagined as a young boy. All because I trusted God. However, it seems that you’re not happy unless you’re in control.”

  Where had she heard that before? Her father? Miss Hattie? But this was different. This wasn’t about controlling anything or anyone. This was about being deceived. It seemed no one was interested in viewing things from her perspective.

  “So you’re telling me that God is in control of your life and it matters little to you that Truth is off having a good time in New York rather than coming home to plan her wedding?”

  He placed the basket inside the buggy. “That’s not at all what I said. It matters a great deal that Truth is in New York; it matters a great deal that I never saw my parents again—but I’m not in control of either situation. My anger or worry changes nothing—nor does yours.”

  “Don’t you see? I feel as though I have no one. I don’t truly belong anywhere.”

  “I disagree, but you must finally come to that realization on your own, Jarena.”

  When they finally arrived in Hill City, Moses helped her down from the carriage. “Thank you for taking me to see . . .” She hesitated and bit her lower lip.

  “Your family? They are still your family, Jarena. Nothing will change that except you. Unless you continue to push them away, your father and sisters will feel no differently toward you than they ever have. In truth, I can’t understand why you would do such a thing to people who have done nothing but love you.” Moses strode back around the wagon and departed without another word.

  Jarena ran up the Boyles’ porch steps and into the kitchen, thankful that she found no one about. She started emptying the basket onto the counter, annoyed by Moses and his platitudes. “Nothing will change my family except me! Ha! As though I had anything to do with this entire matter.” She yanked the tablecloth from the basket and tossed it onto the pile of dirty linens she’d be washing come morning—laundry that Truth should be washing and pressing. Instead, Truth would likely be sauntering up and down the streets of New York, admiring pretty dresses in the shop windows. How like Truth—always avoiding work. She stacked the basket atop several others in the pantry and headed toward the back stairway. Perhaps she could avoid seeing anyone for a while longer.

  Laughter rippled from Lilly’s bedroom as Jarena reached the top of the stairs. The mirthful sounds of happiness annoyed her. Why should others be amused while she bore such misery? Especially Lilly, the cause of all her pain.

  Dr. Boyle stepped into the hallway. “Jarena! Do come in and see how well your aunt is progressing. She has experienced a miraculous recovery over the past twenty-four hours.” He waved her toward the bedroom door. “I didn’t realize you had returned.”

  She hesitated. “Yes. A short time ago. I’ll stop in the room a bit later. I’m quite weary from the journey home.”

  Dr. Boyle drew closer. “Oh, do come in just for a minute. I want you to see how well our patient is faring.”

  Lilly was sitting up in bed, her eyes sparkling and her lips bearing a faint hint of color. She wore a lacy bed jacket and, from all appearances, was as fit as a fiddle. The sight only served to further irritate Jarena. It seemed as if God’s blessings were being showered upon everyone but her—even decadent Aunt Lilly.

  “You look tired, Jarena.”

  The woman’s words were like fingernails on a chalkboard, yet Jarena instinctively smoothed her wrinkled skirt. “Well, I haven’t been lying abed.”

  Lilly folded her hands in a prayerful pose. “And a bit out of sorts, also.”

  Dr. Boyle pointed to the chair near Lilly’s bedside. “Do sit down, Jarena. I’m certain your aunt would enjoy hearing of your visit to Nico-demus. In fact, why don’t I leave you two alone to visit, and I’ll look in on my wife.” Before either of them could answer, he hastened from the room.

  Jarena waited only until she heard Dr. Boyle greet his wife before rising from the chair. “I believe I’ll retire to my room, also. As you said, I am a bit out of sorts.”

  “Oh, do sit down, Jarena. Nothing is ever resolved by running away.”

  Jarena’s derisive laugh echoed off the far wall. “You’ve been running from the truth all your life, Mother. Besides, we have nothing to resolve.”

  Lilly took Jarena by the hand. “Jennie was your mother. I was merely the vessel that gave birth to you. Seems you can talk about forgiveness, but you don’t really believe in the concept. Oh, you speak about God’s forgiveness, but what about yours? Aren’t you supposed to exhibit that same Christlike characteristic? Isn’t that what being a Christian is all about? Not just speaking the truth of God’s Word but living it?”

  Jarena clenched her teeth. “I see. You’ve lived an immoral life, but now you’re an authority on how I should live mine?”

  “I told you I grew up listening to all the same Bible verses and preaching as your mother. I know how I’m supposed to live; I just don’t do it—and neither do you.”

  Lilly was wide-awake and waiting when Jarena entered her room with a breakfast tray the next morning.

  “I trust you slept well and are in a better state of mind this morning, Jarena.”

  She ignored the remark and settled the tray on the bedside table. “Is there anything else you need?”

  “Yes. Did you think about what I said last night? Or are you planning to keep on wallowing in self-pity?”

  Jarena turned on her heel. “You are the most sanctimonious woman I have ever met!”

  “Me? I’ve never professed to be anything except what I am. It’s you who sits in judgment of others, not me. I count myself fortunate I didn’t believe all your rhetoric about forgiveness. Otherwise, I’d surely feel as if I’d been made the fool.”

  Jarena’s jaw went slack. “So you didn’t truly ask God’s forgiveness? You said those words only for my benefit?”

  Lilly shook out the linen napkin and placed it on her lap. “I didn’t mean anything I said, and neither did you, Jarena. Now leave me to my breakfast.”

  Ezekiel spent much of the next several days praying. When he arose in the morning, he prayed. When he worked in the fields, he prayed. When he ate his meals, he prayed. And when he went to bed at night, he prayed. Although he had long considered himself a praying man, Ezekiel hadn’t prayed this much since back when his Jennie had been dying. Course, this felt much the same way—like he was fixing to lose someone he loved. Maybe not to the grave, but
he was going to lose Jarena if he didn’t do something.

  When he and Grace completed the evening meal on Friday, he placed his fork across his plate. “We’ll be goin’ to Hill City come mor-nin’, so we’ll need to get up a little early to make sure we got our chores done afore we leave.”

  Grace’s features brightened, and she squealed with delight. “Truly? Oh, Pappy, that will be such fun! We can see Jarena and Moses.”

  Ezekiel doubted whether the visit would be enjoyable, but he wouldn’t put a damper on Grace’s excitement. The girl had little enough pleasure in her life these days. Except for going to preaching services on Sundays, she didn’t get to see many folks. Oh, Miss Hattie and Nellie stopped by once in a while, but they’d stopped coming very often. Most of the time Grace was working in the fields, and they’d find no one at the house to offer so much as a cup of coffee or a few minutes of conversation.

  Grace was up well before dawn the next day, and Ezekiel surmised she’d likely not slept at all. As he hitched the horses, he prayed Jarena would have an open heart and mind. And, if nothing else, he prayed she would be kind to Grace.

  Ezekiel discovered there would be little time for silent meditation on the journey, for Grace’s enthusiasm bubbled over, and she talked the entire time. With the exception of their journey to Kansas, Ezekiel had never seen the girl so animated.

  Grace sat up straight. “Can we stop and see if Moses is in his office, Pappy? He’ll be mighty surprised to see us, won’t he?”

  Ezekiel agreed, and he brought the horses to a halt in front of the newspaper office. Before he could walk around the wagon, Grace jumped down and raced for the limestone structure. A small bell jingled overhead as she pushed open the door. Moses’s astonishment was evident when he looked up from his desk and gaped at the two of them.

  Grace clapped her hands together and hurried forward. “We surprised you, didn’t we? I’d guess we’re the last folks you expected to see walk in your front door.” She glanced about the room as she talked. “Is that your printing press? How does it work? I’d sure like to see it operate. You going to be printing a paper today?”

  Moses seemed dazed by the barrage of questions. Ezekiel shook his head. “She been yakkin’ like this ever since we left the farm. Guess she’s jest excited to get away from home fer a while.”

  Grace pointed at the printing press. “Look at this machine, Pappy. Is this where you put the paper, Moses?”

  He nodded. “I promise to give you a demonstration before you leave town, but first I want to know what has caused this unexpected visit.”

  Grace continued walking around the printing press while Ezekiel took Moses by the arm and explained his concerns regarding Jarena. “Did she talk ta you when you was comin’ back from Nicodemus last week?”

  “Yes, a little. Right now she seems to believe no one understands her situation and no one has ever been more deeply wounded. I stopped by the Boyles’ on Wednesday and asked her about an article she had promised to write for the newspaper. However, she appeared annoyed by my request.”

  Ezekiel rubbed his chin. “Did she write da piece after you talked to her?”

  “Not that I know of—she hasn’t stopped by the office. I went ahead and wrote it myself. I can’t wait around when I have my own deadlines to meet.”

  “I understand.” Ezekiel genially slapped Moses on the shoulder. “Maybe I kin talk some sense into her. I jest gotta find some way to make her understand. Ain’t heard nothin’ more ’bout Thomas, have ya?”

  Moses shook his head. “No. And I don’t expect to, either. Unfortunately, Jarena is holding out false hope that Thomas will return, but I fear she’s setting herself up for more disappointment.”

  Grace remained at the newspaper office to help Moses print some broadsides advertising the upcoming county fair while Ezekiel walked over to see Jarena. The Boyle house was a pleasant structure—nothing like the mansions of the South, of course, but a fine-looking home— especially when compared to the dugouts and soddies that dotted the Kansas landscape.

  Hat in hand, Ezekiel walked up the porch steps and knocked on the door. His reflection gleamed back at him from the oval beveled glass in the carved oak door.

  “Lilly!” His jaw dropped when his sister-in-law opened the front door. “From all accounts, I thought you was on yer deathbed.”

  “Come on in, Ezekiel. I was on my deathbed, but I’ve had an amazing recovery.”

  Though his shoes bore no visible dirt, Ezekiel wiped his feet several times before stepping into the house. He peered about the foyer, feeling uncomfortable in such fine surroundings. “I come to see Jarena. She hereabouts?”

  “She’s gone down to the mercantile for Mrs. Boyle. She’ll likely return in a half hour or so. Would you like to come in the kitchen until she returns? I was going to make myself a cup of coffee—care to join me?”

  He followed Lilly down the hall. “If you don’ think the missus will care. I don’ want to get nobody in trouble.”

  “I’m certain both Dr. Boyle and his wife would be happy for you to have a cup of coffee. Sit down.” Lilly placed the coffeepot atop the stove before sitting down opposite him. “I guess you and I have a few matters to discuss, also.”

  “You broke yer promise.”

  “For what it’s worth, I hope you believe that I would have never broken my word to you—I’d have never told her if that snoopy Mrs. Nelson hadn’t found the birth paper. I should have thrown it in the fire long ago. But somehow I just couldn’t.”

  Ezekiel folded his hands together and rested them on the table.

  “Guess it’s best she knows. Livin’ a lie ain’t no good thing. But she’s havin’ to deal with too much grief all to once. I’s mighty worried what’s gonna happen if Thomas don’ come home.”

  Lilly rested her chin in her palm. “All of this falls on my shoulders, except for Thomas. I shouldn’t have come to Kansas. If I would have stayed in New Orleans, or even gone somewhere else, Jarena would have never known the truth. But I was so busy tryin’ to escape my own troubles that I didn’t give a second thought to anyone else.”

  Ezekiel eyed his sister-in-law suspiciously. He’d never heard Lilly sound so honest and down-to-earth. He wanted to believe she had changed, yet he didn’t trust her. He never had. “What’s goin’ on wid you, Lilly? That bump on the head knock some sense into you?”

  Using her apron to protect her hand, she lifted the coffeepot from the stove and poured two cups. After she’d taken a sip of her coffee, she said, “To tell you the truth, it wasn’t the bump on the head—it was Jarena.”

  “Jarena?”

  Lilly explained what had occurred at the Nelson house. She spoke with obvious embarrassment as she told Ezekiel how Jarena had found her removing money from the Nelsons’ safe and how Jarena had later protected her by returning the incriminating evidence before it would be missed.

  “When she thought I was going to die, she forced me to look at myself and the possibility of eternity in hell.”

  Ezekiel rocked back in his chair. “So that’s why you’s been actin’ so kindly. I always did say there ain’t nothin’ like the fear of meetin’ yer Maker to bring folks to their knees.”

  “That’s true. But I think it might be something else I said that’s really bothering Jarena. . . .”

  Jarena shifted the basket of groceries on her arm and impulsively decided to take the rear entrance to the house. Passing by an open kitchen window, Jarena heard Lilly’s spirited voice. Who was her aunt talking to? Jarena stood outside the window and eavesdropped for a moment. Her father! He was in the kitchen talking to Aunt Lilly. She placed the heavy basket on the ground, flattened herself against the cool, smooth limestone under the window, and listened intently.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she heard Lilly tell of the stinging remarks the two of them had exchanged regarding forgiveness and deliverance. “I thought I could force Jarena to examine her own behavior and beliefs when I said those heated words. In
stead of helping, I fear I’ve served only to make matters worse.”

  She heard the scraping of chair legs against the wood floor and wondered if her father was reaching out to comfort Lilly. “What’s been said can’t be snatched back. Jarena’s a right smart gal. I been prayin’ real hard that God’s gonna show her that we was all tryin’ to do right by her. And I’m prayin’ God’s gonna keep His hand of protection on Thomas, too.”

  Jarena strained closer to the window, not wanting to miss a word of their conversation. A twinge of guilt flitted through her consciousness, but she quickly pushed it aside.

  “I thought Moses was the right man for Jarena. In fact, I even tried to do a little matchmaking between them.”

  “Even though Truth was promised ta him!” Her father’s voice boomed out the window.

  “Lower your voice, Ezekiel. You’ll wake Mrs. Boyle with that hollering. No need to worry. I never could get either of them to look at each other like that. Guess I was thinking of Jarena as my own child and wanted someone for her that would be a better match. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Hmph. There’s lots of things you shouldn’ta did, Lilly. That’s prob’ly the least of ’em.”

  Lilly’s self-conscious laughter wafted through the air. “You’re right on that account. Thomas is likely a fine young man. However, I don’t want Jarena to suffer through losing someone she loves. She’s too young for that kind of pain. I hope she can one day forgive me for the harsh words I said to her.”

  Jarena slid down the stone wall and dropped to the ground. With her face buried in her skirts, she continued to listen while her father and Lilly discussed her.

  “Forgive me, Lord,” she whispered. “Please forgive me.” Tears dampened her skirt as she buried her face deep into the muslin folds.

  Jarena continued to sob until she realized the voices had grown silent in the kitchen. Wiping her eyes, she gathered up the basket and entered the kitchen, startled to find her father and Lilly sitting at the table with their hands joined in prayer.