“Eventually Jeremiah will get the information from somewhere. If you know something, Sarah, why not tell him now? It might help keep us all safer here. You do not want something to happen to Samuel, do you?”
It made no sense, but Sarah ignored the plea for Sammy’s safety. If she told Jeremiah even a bit of what she knew, he would come back for more.
“I do not trust what he is going to do with it,” Sarah stated.
“I am trying to help those people, Sarah,” Jeremiah responded. “You have to believe me.”
“I have known Jeremiah all my life,” Bessie said to Sarah. “Not once did he ever lie to me or let me down. You can depend on him.” She turned back to her brother. “Sarah is not going to tell you today. Let her sort things out.”
Sort things out? Did Bessie think that what Sarah felt was as simple as sorting the whites from the darks for the wash? It was much more complicated than that.
“I do not need time.” Sarah glanced between them. “I will not tell anyone about the Moravians.”
“What if it means you might save their lives, Sarah?” Jeremiah prodded. “Will you still keep it to yourself?”
“I might.”
He dropped a fist onto the table. Bessie winced.
“All right, then,” Jeremiah declared. “I will not ask you again. Human life obviously does not mean much to you.”
“It means a lot to me.” Sarah faltered. “It does. Truly.”
“Then prove it by putting others ahead of yourself for once.” Jeremiah flung the words at her as he thrust his arms through his jacket sleeves.
His reluctance to probe further made Sarah wish she had confided something to him, even if it was one small tidbit—just so she knew he would come back to see her.
Chapter 14
I do not know how much more I can take.” Jeremiah shoved Shade’s latest delivery aside and threw his hands over his face. He cared little that he looked nothing like a man of battle.
“What now?” Rufe asked respectfully.
Jeremiah shrugged. “I knew there would be trouble when I learned that British commander ordered those Praying Indians from their homes last fall.”
“You cannot change that, sir.”
Jeremiah straightened a stack of papers. “I know, but things are getting worse. I have a feeling that something is about to happen, and we are not going to like the result.”
Rufe slumped into a chair. “Pretty much what Shade tried to tell everyone at the Winter Supper. So what are you going to do? You cannot run to Fort Detroit. It is a British holding, and I have heard that their commander is the best they have.”
Jeremiah pondered things for a moment. “Perhaps Shade can find out more about what is going on.”
Rufe sat up. “To prove what?”
“I do not know,” Jeremiah confessed. “I have already made one trip there, but sending Shade beats sitting here waiting for something or someone to come to us. Williamson promised I would only serve till mid-March. He said he would not ask me to take Dan Whelp’s place. Well, it has been over a month and a half, and he has yet to submit a replacement name for the major’s position!”
“Colonel Williamson is a busy man.” Rufe clearly did not want to take sides with either Williamson or Jeremiah.
“Busy rounding up more men for his militia,” Jeremiah scoffed. “Sometimes I think he moves people into the county so that he will have more men on the rolls.”
Rufe propped a finger under his chin. “Perhaps you could send a message to headquarters insisting that they appoint someone. Never mind. You already tried that.”
“God put me here to do something, Rufe. I just do not know what.” Jeremiah ran his hands through his hair.
“Pa always says we should not bring trouble upon ourselves,” Rufe stated. “He says we should look for what we can do that is good and be satisfied with that.”
Jeremiah fanned the edges of the papers. “Your pa is a smart man, Rufe, but that does not ease my frustration.”
“What if we send someone out to get Colonel back here? Then you could demand that he do something about replacing Dan Whelp. That is what you want, is it not?”
“Yes. No. I do not know. I am worried we are going to find ourselves being attacked by more Indians than we can handle. If that happens, we will have no choice but to defend ourselves, to kill.” Jeremiah raised stricken eyes to the clerk. “That is strictly between you and me.”
“Yes sir,” Rufe promised.
“That must be so,” Jeremiah replied. “For if anyone found out how I feel, I might be looking at a charge of treason.”
Winter slipped by in a barrage of blizzards and icy winds. Sarah hadn’t seen Jeremiah since they quarreled about the mission. Early on, each day she expected him to visit and question her further, but he never did.
Did she miss him? Kick a squirrel in the tail and chase it up a tree. Why would she miss Jeremiah? She should be glad he no longer dropped by as he once had. But the short winter days made for long nights, times when Sarah thought about Jeremiah and Gemma … together.
Sarah turned her mind to happier prospects. Bessie and Sammy’s “letter lessons” were going well. Bessie had caught on quickly to the shapes of the letters of the alphabet. Sammy ran a close second with his ability to recite the letters in sequence.
Sarah knew that on days when the snow wasn’t blowing too hard or the wind too chilly, Bessie bundled up and went to visit her brother. Sometimes Sarah allowed Bessie to take Sammy along. Other times Bessie went alone, leaving baby Elizabeth, or Lizzie as she was now known, with Sarah.
Sammy loved to sit beside Sarah as she held Lizzie, babbling and smiling at the infant. Sarah felt her heart warm when Lizzie charmed her with a toothless grin.
Sarah refused to ask about Jeremiah, knowing it would only lead Bessie to speculate about her motives for asking. One day, though, Sarah couldn’t hide her curiosity any longer. She waited until Bessie had put away her purchases from the post.
“Is this a busy time of year for the militia?” Sarah hoped her use of the term “militia” disguised her true interest.
“Jeremiah is always a busy man.” Bessie failed to hide her smug grin. “Do you miss seeing him?”
“About as much as I miss those oxen that pulled our wagon here,” Sarah quipped.
“I wish you two would work out your problems. Jer is just as troubled as you are. I am sure it is because he feels you no longer care to see him.”
“He is free to think that if he wishes.” Sarah hoped Bessie did not mention Gemma Winslow, for Sarah didn’t think she could take hearing that woman’s name.
Toward February’s end a huge snowfall left them homebound and impatient for the white stuff to melt. Captain read from the Bible, encouraging Bessie to try out the words she knew. Bessie’s hesitant, but progressively improving, attempts gave Sarah a great feeling of accomplishment.
Sarah grew used to seeing Sammy climb up on Captain’s knee, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Sammy to do. She enjoyed listening as Captain explained Jesus and the apostles to her son.
Captain left without explanation one afternoon. Bessie fretted until he returned with a goose. He stated the gift came from a family who wished to express their appreciation to him for sharing the Gospel with them.
Bessie basted the goose with cream and hung it over the hearth. The aroma of sizzling fowl filtered through the home throughout the night. Sarah slept soundly until she was jolted awake by early spring’s gusty breath lifting the roof edges and dropping them back into place.
As Sarah waited for a pan of sugared bread to finish frying, Captain entered the room. At first he said nothing. Sarah remained quiet while he flipped through his Bible. She watched as he picked up the locket of hair she had dropped that day months ago. He ran a finger along its length then flipped the pages.
Sarah swallowed hard. “Captain?”
It seemed an eternity before he glanced at her. “Good morning, Sarah. D
id you sleep well?”
“Until the racket began outside.”
Captain chuckled. “Those northern blasts can be quite chilling. Did you need something?”
His cheeks were plumper than Sarah had noticed recently, and though his hair appeared grayer, the youthful echo of auburn peppered his beard.
Sarah explained her clumsiness with the tuft of hair a few months earlier. “I am so sorry. I should have told you long ago. I thought Bessie already had.”
Captain arched an eyebrow. “Isaiah 40 or 41?”
“Forty.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Captain said. “I chose Proverbs, but Isaiah is just as appropriate.”
“I am not sure how you expect me to answer that,” Sarah answered. “You know my faith is not exactly a shining example for others to follow.”
“God’s Word contains beautiful promises, no matter where you look,” Captain said. “And I think you are wrong, Sarah. I feel that what happened to you was of such size that it overwhelmed you. You would not be the first to turn away from God during disaster.”
“Are you saying I never quit putting my faith in God? I hardly think that is true. Look at what He did to my family. Everyone seems to forget that.”
“We have not forgotten, Sarah. More than likely it is that we suffered something that pains us just as deeply, but we accepted it and prefer to look ahead, not backward.”
Sarah lived with her disappointments and lost dreams every day. “I keep seeing that … night … happening over and over. I will never forget it.”
Captain nodded. “I had trouble, too, until I decided to set aside a block of time each day and use that to deal with my pain. Eventually I taught myself to push the ache away until the next day.”
“Seems to me,” Sarah replied, “that if I made myself think about it every day on purpose, I would just recall it more.”
“There is that risk, but if you truly want to become a mother that Samuel is proud of, then each day you work at making yourself think of the hurt less. You will never forget it completely, though—it is too much a part of you.”
“What if I never put … it … behind me?” Sarah closed her eyes, wishing that the choices she’d made had not turned out to be so disastrous.
“You think that if you put your pain behind you, you will also put your husband there.” Captain fingered the small lock of hair. “It might be hard for you to understand right now, but someday Levi will be separate in your mind from the pain.”
“How do you know that?” Sarah’s question filled the room.
Captain smiled. “This clip of hair came from my first wife’s curls. We were not blessed with children, but I loved her, still do in my own private way. No one can ever take that from me. Katherine is gone, but she lives on in my heart. Every time a robin sings, I hear her voice, feel her love, touch again the gentle waves of her beautiful red hair.”
Captain fingered the lock of hair. Sarah grasped the edge of her apron. Finally, Captain cleared his throat, brushing aside the solemn moment. “It does not make me love Bessie any less. In fact, it took me a while to realize that if I did not know the great trust that comes with loving God, if Katherine had not been abruptly taken from me, I might have missed out on Bessie and little Lizzie.”
He hung his head, hiding his tears. “And that would have been a real shame.”
Chapter 15
Captain’s disclosure explained the inscription in his Bible that Sarah had read months ago. It also played heavily on her heart over the next few days. While Sarah didn’t wish to snoop, she did want to discover more about how Captain relinquished the grief associated with losing his first wife. And, she recalled, hadn’t Bessie hinted at something similar?
Speaking of Bessie, Sarah noticed that she no longer flitted about and chirped inane things as she once had done. Bessie was now an earnest young woman, devoted to raising her daughter as best she could in troubled times. Sarah found that she missed the constant chatter Bessie once had filled the days with. She decided one afternoon to have a talk with Bessie, to see if she could learn why she’d changed.
Her plans were stymied. Bessie came down with a cold. Captain stayed at his wife’s side constantly, refusing to allow even Sarah to tend to Bessie. Sarah recalled how Levi always had taken care of her when she was ill. Thinking of him now didn’t cause her as much pain as it usually did. She’d begun doing as Captain had suggested and hoped this was a sign of progress.
After Bessie recovered, Sarah waited until Captain left for a visit to a neighbor’s home before she began the conversation.
Bessie searched Sarah’s face as if looking for a clue. “I knew you needed something of me. What is it you want to know?”
Sarah swallowed. “For one thing, how do you always know I am troubled?”
Bessie spoke without hesitation. “Not long after you joined us, I learned that when you are not—shall we say bothered?—by something, you are more willing to talk. When something troubles you, you push everyone away except Samuel…. That is not what you really want to know, though, is it?”
Sarah shook her head. “I think you seem very different since Lizzie’s birth.”
“For the better?”
“Yes, but it is also as if there is something deep inside that you cannot resolve,” Sarah replied. “I do not mean to pry, but is that true?”
Bessie sighed. “It might sound odd, but having a child scares me, Sarah. Suddenly there is this little lass who depends on me for everything. I did not know it would be so awesome.”
“The responsibility?”
Bessie shook her head. “The love. I fell for Captain practically the moment I met him at a worship service—silly me, mooning over a man of God almost twice my age.” Bessie chuckled then sobered. “This is a different sort of caring. You have Samuel, so you know what I mean.”
Sarah nodded. That grand tenderness that filled her heart every time she looked at him, the love that was a constant part of her life but sometimes frightened her—different from the passion with which she had loved his father, but just as strong.
“A child is fulfilling,” Sarah concurred. “And I am blessed that I did not lose Sammy. He is so full of joy and life that the world seems made just for him to discover. Last night I realized that even though I lost Levi, I still have a part of him with me in Sammy.”
“I have said this before,” Bessie added. “Samuel will grow up to be a fine man, thanks to your guidance. You let him join Captain as he reads God’s Word. That is a wise decision.”
“Yes, it seems more intelligent every day. I did some thinking, Bessie, and it will not do any good if Sammy learns the history of God’s people and the plan of salvation if I do not reinforce it.”
Bessie simply smiled, and Sarah turned her mind to the men who volunteered to leave their families, if needed, to fight battles they might never return from. And to Captain, who spread the news of redemption regardless of people’s reaction to it—Sarah’s included. Her thoughts returned to Bessie, who quietly displayed her own brand of hope as she rocked her wee daughter.
Finally, Sarah pondered Jeremiah—tall, confident Jeremiah Stewart. From the beginning he seemed intent on upsetting her tiny fragment of the world. Was he really? Or was that what Sarah thought because she could not believe he really wanted to help her?
No matter what Jeremiah did, Sarah pushed him away because he frightened her. Was it him or was it that when she saw him, she felt things she had resolved she would never allow her heart to feel again?
Sarah shook her head. Bessie was chattering. She rolled her mind away from Jeremiah to listen.
“… and I told Captain that was the most beautiful thing he could ever say to me.”
Sarah apologized for daydreaming.
Bessie gave her a curious look. “Captain said that if it had not been for me, he would not have understood God’s plan for his life. He also said that if not for you, Sarah, he would not have shared that with me.”
“What did I do?”
“Captain told me about how much he once loved Katherine. In all this time, he had never talked about her with me. He said that as he spoke with you, he grew convinced that when you tucked that snippet of hair away, you had chosen Isaiah without realizing it. He believes that the message of hope and comfort that speaks across the years from the prophet Isaiah called to you, asking you to place your trust in the Lord.”
“Captain thinks that?”
“And much more,” Bessie continued. “That is when he told me the rest. Seems that when we met, he decided to wed me because he thought I would be a help to him spreading the Gospel. I do not know why, since I was hardly a good example of the perfect preacher’s wife.”
Bessie grew pensive, her eyes drifting to Captain’s Bible on the mantel. “I suppose I did not truly love him at first,” she admitted. “I cared about him and liked him as a friend, but I think I was agog over his good looks and the way he made me feel special.”
Good looks? Heavens, Bessie must be blind!
Sarah’s taste ran more to men like Jeremiah, men with a hint of danger and an air of greatness about them, yet with a portion of gentleness that shone through at the most unexpected times.
“Why did you wed Captain, then?” Sarah challenged.
“I lost my first husband in a farming accident. Martin and I had had big dreams for our future, plans for a large family, and a big farm our boys would help us run. One day he went out to plow and did not come home.”
Bessie’s eyes filled with tears. She tightened her jaw and went on. “With no one to take care of me, I went back to live with my parents. Jeremiah was there. He had just lost Jenny. I do not have to tell you what a sorrowful bunch we were. Well, Captain came by a few weeks later to stay with us, for my parents held the church service that month.”
“How long did you know him before you joined him in wedlock?”
“A few weeks.” Bessie caught Sarah’s glance of shock. “He was in a hurry to depart for another town. I was in as big a rush to leave home so that my parents would stop telling me they had known all along that Martin had not been right for me.”
The Memory of Love Page 27