Jeremiah searched her face. “As far as I am concerned, leaning on others signifies courage, and there is nothing wrong with doing so. No matter what, I know of only one ultimate source of peace. I need to pray, Sarah. Will you join me?”
Jeremiah stretched a hand toward her and closed his eyes. He began to offer a prayer of thanks that Sarah wasn’t seriously injured. When he felt the tentative brush of Sarah’s fingertips on his own, he thought his soul would never stop singing.
How could things go so wrong? Jeremiah thumped his fist against his thigh. He thought sure he’d argued his point successfully, but Colonel Williamson refused to appoint Harry Ray to replace Dan Whelp. It appeared Williamson was bent on making Jeremiah the replacement instead.
Jeremiah shuddered. He could not, no, would not, accept the position. He’d voiced the fact that he did not believe in killing to the colonel several times during the last year.
But that wasn’t Jeremiah’s problem right now. Shade was hanging his outer garments near the fireplace; he surely did not bear good news. Weariness was evident in Shade’s face as he turned toward Jeremiah.
“Eyes are again on the Praying Indians,” Shade said, rubbing his hands together for warmth.
“What now?” Jeremiah grumbled inwardly that Williamson always seemed gone when something of import happened.
Shade frowned. “British commander accused Zeisberger of treason last summer because missionary is in constant contact with colonials at Fort Pitt. Missionary says he is friendly to both British and colonials and that he only want to be left alone with his Christian converts. British commander agreed Zeisberger could do so, as long as they stayed in the Wyandot village near the Big Lake.”
“What else?” After dealing with Shade for several months, Jeremiah knew there was always a reason for everything Shade said. Sometimes Jeremiah just had to wait until later to figure it out.
“So now they stay in old Wyandot homes and search for food. The British promised them supplies, but the Praying Indians turn it down.”
Jeremiah leaned against the table. “Mighty brave of them, since they were not allowed to carry much with them in the fall.”
Shade’s face grew solemn. “They brave people.”
“Do they realize how fragile their situation is? They have the British pulling at them from one side and half of their own clan squealing on them. Not to mention that most of our militia is convinced they are heathens.”
“They know what life means, and they believe God provides.”
Jeremiah understood the strength in that. “Is there anything else?”
“One moon ago Zeisberger met with British commander again. Outcome a surprise to all there.”
“I am beginning to see that anything the British are involved in does not turn out the way we expect,” Jeremiah said. “What is the rest?”
Shade shook his head back and forth as if to the beat of a war drum. “Wyandot leader full of lies. He told British the missionaries were his friends. Not so. Wyandot and British are dangerous. Will cause the Christian Indians to die. Soon.”
Uneasiness stole through Jeremiah’s heart. “How soon?”
“Shade’s bones feel sorrow.”
Jeremiah paced back and forth between a chair and the hearth. “What do you really think is going to happen?”
“Your militia will be involved,” Shade said. “Stop them.”
“They are not my … Oh, never mind.” Jeremiah tossed his hands in the air. “How will the militia be involved?”
Shade sighed. “Danger will decrease your friends. The settlers will insist army protect them.”
Jeremiah’s soul hit the bottom of his feet. “You mean there will be more attacks?”
Shade grimaced. “More vicious ones.”
“It has been quiet here lately. I hoped they were afraid of our weapons, or that the weather was too cold for them.”
“Except Great Spirit, real warriors are not frightened of anything. They will come again.”
“I do not know how you know that,” Jeremiah countered, “but I will warn everyone in the county to be more watchful. Let’s suppose our men, and we are well over one hundred now, do want to fight. How do I stop that many?”
“You are wise man,” Shade said. “Find a way. Remember, the eyes of all miss nothing.”
Jeremiah sighed. He would definitely have to sort this out later. “Who are ‘the eyes of all’?”
“Some men see but miss the important things,” Shade replied, donning his jacket.
“So?”
Shade kicked at his moccasins. Clumps of half-melted snow fell onto the warm hearth and spat like an angry cat. “Not all tribes happy with whites in Ohio wilderness. Not all whites happy they in Ohio wilderness.”
“That does not make sense,” Jeremiah stated. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“Be wary of what others ask you to do, for not all are on your side. I must go.” Shade eased from the room.
Jeremiah rubbed his neck. He propped his chin in the palm of one hand and studied the lines in his other palm.
What if Shade is right? What if there are more deaths? What if I get caught up in an upsurge of hate and Colonel Williamson orders me to kill someone? Oh Lord, don’t desert me if such a thing comes to be!
At least I still have Sammy, Sarah thought as she watched her son play at her feet. But the years before he grew up and said good-bye would pass quickly, then she would be all alone.
“Is everything all right, Sarah?”
Sarah looked up to see Bessie raise Elizabeth to her shoulder and pat the infant’s back.
“I know this must be a bad time of year for you,” Bessie added. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No. I was just thinking that perhaps my sorrow is not so bad this year. Why?”
“I know it cannot be easy.” Bessie gazed at her newborn. “No matter what people say, often time is not enough to heal our wounds. Just the other day you read chapter fifty-eight in Isaiah to me. Do you remember what it said?”
“Not really,” Sarah admitted.
“If I recall, it goes something like, ‘Then shalt thou call, and the Lord shall answer; thou shalt cry, and he shall say, Here I am.’ See, Sarah? You can call on our Lord any time for any reason. He is always there, willing to love, to share, to bring you peace.”
“Bessie, I hope that someday I will return to God’s flock, but after the way He destroyed my life, I am just not sure how far off that day may be.”
“God loves you, Sarah. So do several others. You do not know how happy it would make me to learn that you are ready to come back to our Lord.”
Sarah stared at the fireplace, contemplating Bessie’s words. Bessie never seemed to let events depress her. How did she keep such confidence that life would work itself out for the best?
Bessie broke the quiet. “The other day I heard you tell Captain you wanted to start teaching Samuel his letters. Do you think you could teach me at the same time? I never saw a need before, but now I would like to know how to read so I may teach my daughter someday.” Bessie beamed a grin at two-week-old Elizabeth.
“It is not something you learn overnight, Bessie.”
“I do not expect it to come quickly. It would not be too big a bother, would it?”
Sarah shook her head. “I did not mean to make you think that.” Teaching letters would be easier than reading Bible stories to Bessie. Every story Bessie chose seemed to spur Sarah’s heart.
“If we need something special, Captain can fetch it for us tomorrow,” Bessie said. “That way we can begin after our evening meal.”
Captain’s one circuit trip since the baby’s birth had ended. Unless there was an emergency, he planned to stay home for the winter.
“When I was little, we used the smooth side of a split log and a charred stick to write the letters,” Sarah replied.
“If it was good enough for you, then it is good enough for me,” Bessie declared. Samuel came to stand beside h
er. She lowered Elizabeth so he could reach out and tickle the baby’s chin.
Sarah watched her son babble something to the infant in an incoherent language. With every day that passed, she and Sammy got more entangled in Bessie’s and Captain’s lives. When Sarah joined them for the journey here, she’d not foreseen that happening.
She thought she’d find something that would allow her to support her son and herself. She hadn’t imagined how barren Washington County would be.
What will I do if I can’t find something to help me support Sammy? I cannot live off of the Halls’ generosity forever.
“… telling Samuel about the music there is going to be. May even be some small treats for the little ones, you know.”
Bessie’s chatter intruded on Sarah’s thoughts. She snapped her head toward the woman.
“I wish you would change your mind about going,” Bessie said. “It will be good for you and Samuel, and that way it will all work out.”
“What will work out?” Sarah quizzed, sensing something in Bessie’s voice that she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear.
“The seating particulars,” Bessie confided with a sly smile. “If you are not there, the whole evening will be a disaster.”
“Quit being so emotional. No one will notice if I am not there.”
“Those who are important will,” Bessie replied.
Sarah gave a troubled sigh. “What does that mean?”
“It means we are to sit at the commander’s table,” Bessie responded. “You have to go. Otherwise, that silly Gemma Winslow will end up sitting by Jeremiah.”
Sarah’s throat tightened. Gemma Winslow? She’d heard the name before but hadn’t known that the woman had designs on Jeremiah.
It did not matter. She couldn’t sit with men who were determined to do away with those she once lived with, even if those men included Jeremiah.
Sarah feigned indifference. “I doubt one or two missing people will be a catastrophe,” she said.
“I think it would be to Jeremiah. He does not like Gemma, you know, but she seems determined to get him to notice her.”
“Gemma is quite free to sit with whomever she wishes,” Sarah answered, keeping her voice even.
“Well,” Bessie went on, a sly smile curving her lips, “everyone knows you are staying with us. It will look strange if you are not there.”
Gemma Winslow’s name rolled around in Sarah’s mind. What did Gemma mean to Jeremiah? Was he seeing her? Courting her? Sarah found thinking on this to be painful.
“Have they chosen a replacement for that major who got killed yet?”
“No news from that quarter,” Bessie replied. “Jeremiah does know he has another ninety days to serve. The colonel talked him into it.”
“You must be mistaken. The last time Jeremiah talked about it, he said he wanted out of the militia so he can go on with his life.”
“Oh, Jer does not want to do it,” Bessie agreed. “He told me that he prayed long and hard before accepting. He decided that God must want something special of him if he keeps putting him in uniform. It would sure make Jeremiah’s night if you went.”
Something nagged at Sarah. A few weeks ago she consented to be Jeremiah’s friend. She hadn’t been too friendly since that day. To be fair, the times Jeremiah had seen her, he had not tried to push her into anything more than casual conversation.
And don’t forget, Sarah’s heart reminded, Bessie linked Gemma Winslow’s name with Jeremiah’s.
“I might go, but I refuse to borrow another of your dresses,” Sarah muttered.
Bessie grinned. “Jeremiah brought me a package the day Elizabeth was born. I have not opened it yet, but I think we need to take a look.”
“I thought he brought it for the baby,” Sarah said, recalling him handing her the parcel.
“No. If Samuel will go fetch it from the corner near my bed, we can decide what to do.”
While Sammy rushed down the hall, Sarah took a seat.
“The only reason I would even be interested in going would be to see what sorts of food the women bring,” Sarah said.
“We will see,” Bessie replied, a mischievous glow dancing in her eyes.
“Are you sure I did not miss Shade when I ran home?”
“No sir. He has not been here,” Rufe assured. “Shade is always smack on time, too. Wonder what could be keepin’ him?”
“I do, too.” Though Jeremiah had resigned himself to another three months in the militia, he didn’t like it. After much prayer, God had impressed upon his heart that the militia was where He needed Jeremiah to be for the time being.
In his courier days, Jeremiah had feared being strung up alongside a forgotten trail. Had that happened to Shade? A damp chill climbed Jeremiah’s spine. No! He had to believe Shade would appear.
Jeremiah ambled to the door and peered down the wagon trail. He mouthed a verse from the fourth chapter of Philippians: “‘Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.’”
He took a deep breath. Worrying did no good. He must trust God to take care of Shade.
Rufe began dousing candle wicks. “I am sure Shade will be here soon. Perhaps we can get him to stay for the big doings?”
“I will ask,” Jeremiah said. “You know he is uncomfortable around people. He only stays long enough to deliver messages.”
Jeremiah studied Rufe from across the room. “You never did tell me how you found Shade.”
“I did not?” Rufe appeared surprised.
“Spill it, Rufe. The way things are, ferrying messages is a dangerous job.” Jeremiah wasn’t bragging; he chose the occupation because it meant the chances of having to kill someone would be less than if he were embroiled in battle.
“I knew Shade when I grew up,” Rufe explained. “Pa would not let me near him, because he said no man that mysterious had anything good to give the world.”
“So why did you pick him?”
Rufe weighed his words before speaking. “Pa can be one-sided sometimes. He gets something stuck in his head and no one can budge him. Some folks did not think I should get the job of clerk because I am so scatterbrained. But Colonel took a chance on me. It is the best thing that could have happened. I have learned so much that I am almost like a new person, especially working for you.”
Rufe was silent for a moment. “I think everyone should get the chance to prove they can do great things. This job does not ask much of Shade except to ride, which he loves, and to stay away from those who might try to stop him, which he is good at doing.” Rufe’s eyes widened. “You are not going to fire him, are you?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “Shade might be slow, but he does a grand job.”
Rufe nodded his head. “Will that be all, then? I hoped to help set up for tonight.”
Jeremiah straightened some papers. “You go on. I will wait for Shade.”
“I sure hope Shade is all right.”
“I do, too.” Jeremiah recalled Shade’s warning that there would be more attacks and that the militia would want to go after the Praying Indians because of them. What would happen if Shade got caught in something and wasn’t able to think fast enough to defend himself?
Jeremiah didn’t know Shade very well, but he knew the man performed to the best of his ability. In a war, some didn’t return; that risk was always there. Jeremiah turned the thought away. He hoped he didn’t have to hear that Shade hadn’t made it.
Rufe got ready to leave. “If it helps, I am behind you every step of the way, Lieutenant.”
Jeremiah gave the clerk a small smile. “I do not see how I can miss, then. With you pushing from behind and the Lord pulling me along, seems like I could just about deal with anything.”
Jeremiah gave up after two hours of waiting and headed toward Bessie’s to visit his niece. As he neared the Halls’, he saw Sarah and Samuel making their way toward him. Jeremiah grinned as Samuel leaped across a puddle.
What a wonderful blessing God provided in the form of children, he thought.
Samuel’s mother wasn’t bad either. Sarah’s hair cascaded down her back, and her flushed cheeks gave testimony to the length of time she’d been out in the cold. Jeremiah’s heart raced. He took a deep breath to calm down, but his heart refused to listen.
A few days after her fainting spell, Sarah had sought him out. She apologized for demanding that Jeremiah not worry about the little people, and admitted that it was probably just a spell of anxiety that caused her to collapse.
While her words were spontaneous, Jeremiah thought he had detected a glimmer of something more beneath the surface. Since then, Jeremiah tried to let Sarah set the terms of their friendship. He did not think he’d gotten very far.
Samuel ran toward him. “Miah! Miah!” He proudly displayed a missing front tooth.
“Hello, scamp!” Jeremiah squatted in front of the boy.
Samuel scuffed the toe of his shoe on the ground.
“What?” Jeremiah exclaimed in mock astonishment. “I know we have not seen each other since little Elizabeth was born, Sammy. Have you forgotten me?”
“I am the only one who calls him Sammy.” Sarah pulled her son close to her side. “Come along, Sammy. We promised Bessie we would be right back with the tea.”
Jeremiah rested his hands on his knees. Samuel looked as if he wanted to stay but didn’t want his mother to know. Jeremiah’s heart caught in his throat.
“Go on, Samuel,” he encouraged. “Smart men always mind the women in their lives.”
“Now that is an interesting admission, coming from you, Mr. Stewart.”
Jeremiah met her gaze. “I did not always believe it, but I have discovered that without the love of a good woman, many men fail to accomplish great things.”
“And you claim that the same is true for you?”
Jeremiah stood up. “Perhaps I have never had the right woman behind me, one who inspired me to do more than I could alone….”
Sammy pressed against Sarah’s side just in time to save her. “Mother? I’m hungry.”
“Yes, son. Only a moment longer.” She gave Jeremiah a guarded glance.
The Memory of Love Page 24