Room for Hope

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  He guided Mrs. Shilling to the sofa and then gestured to the chair. “Please sit down, Sheriff.”

  Jesse would have preferred giving Mrs. Shilling the nicest seat, but he supposed then Randall wouldn’t be able to sit beside her. As soon as they sat, Mrs. Shilling sent him a wary yet stalwart look.

  “Are our fears about Warren confirmed?”

  Randall placed his hand on Mrs. Shilling’s shoulder in a protective gesture Jesse appreciated. She’d need his support after he told her everything Sheriff Abling had discovered.

  Jesse met the woman’s gaze and maintained an even, unruffled tone just as a good sheriff should. “Let me tell you first, we’re pretty certain he didn’t rob the bank in Grand Rapids.”

  Randall aimed an astounded look at Jesse and then at Mrs. Shilling. “Good heavens, Neva, you suspected him of bank robbery?”

  Her spine lost its starch. She wilted in Randall’s direction, but he held her upright with a firm arm around her shoulders. “I was afraid it could be true, yes.” She covered her mouth with shaking fingers and whispered, “Praise God I was wrong.”

  Jesse had already thanked God for sparing her that hardship. “The owner of the trapping company confirmed Warren spent five years on his payroll. That whole time he lived in a tiny shack at the back of the man’s property and hardly spent two nickels, always bragging that he was putting his money away so he could own a business someday. Because of the man’s testimony, the state marshal isn’t looking at Warren for the robbery.”

  Still leaning into Randall, she nodded. “But what of the other thefts?”

  Randall’s eyebrows rose. He gawked at the woman in obvious disbelief, but he kept quiet.

  Jesse grimaced. “Unfortunately the marshal believes Warren was involved in stealing furniture and some of the other things I showed you. Officials can’t be sure if he stole them outright or if he bought them from the thieves—we probably won’t ever know for sure since we can’t ask him. But we do know he had a whole lot of stolen goods being put to use in his houses. Some of them were sold in the auction in Beloit. The marshal will deal with that issue. As for the things Warren gave you…”

  Mrs. Shilling sat up. “Take them. If they were stolen, I don’t want them anymore.”

  Jesse ducked his head for a moment. She didn’t quite understand, and he wished somebody else could explain it. As a lawman he wanted to make things better for people. But what he had to say would only hurt the woman sitting in front of him.

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and looked her in the face. “Mrs. Shilling, the thing of it is, we can’t just take those things back and call it even. You see, when they came to you, they were new. Now they aren’t. So, with the exception of the jewelry, the businesses aren’t interested in getting back their goods. They want what they would have received from the sale of the new item.”

  “Oh.” She gulped. “Of course.” She drew a slow breath. Released it. Pressed her palms flat against her throat. “H-how much do they want?”

  Jesse wished he could turn away, examine the striped wallpaper or the brick fireplace or the view from the single window. But that would be cowardly, and a good lawman was never cowardly. He held her gaze and answered quietly, “To cover it all? A little over three thousand dollars.”

  A lesser woman would have swooned. Dissolved into tears. Screeched in fury. But Mrs. Shilling only lowered her hands to her lap, tipped her head back for a moment as if seeking assistance from above, and then settled her gaze on Jesse again. “Selling my belongings won’t raise that much. But the mercantile is worth that much and more. If Mr. Bobart can find a buyer, it should bring in enough to cover the debt. Will the officials be patient and wait for it to sell?”

  Jesse hadn’t discussed that with Abling, but he’d seen debt collectors, with the assistance of law officers, come to a place and take it over, leaving the previous occupants homeless. But he wouldn’t share that worry with her. Not on the Lord’s day. Instead he’d pray for a fair buyer to step forward fast. “I hope so, ma’am.”

  She stood, extending her hand toward Jesse. “Thank you for letting me know. Now I can…move forward.”

  Jesse gripped her hand between his. “We both can.”

  Her brows pinched into a question.

  He laughed softly. “Now that I’ve got your answers, I’m leaving—going home to Severlyn. Or at least I’m gonna try to go home. I’ve made things right between myself and God, so now it’s time to make things right with my folks. You know, the prodigal heading back to say he’s sorry and to ask forgiveness.”

  She smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Me, too. I might not be able to find my ma and pa. A lot can change in seventeen years.” Worry tried to take hold, but he pushed it aside. Hadn’t he decided to trust God with this reunion? “But the preacher and I talked it all out, and we figure at least one of my sisters will still be living in the area. So I’ll get to tell somebody I’m sorry for running off like I did.”

  “What if you can’t find any of them?”

  He’d thought that through already, and he had an answer. “Then I’ll have to be satisfied that I tried my best and be thankful that I always have the heavenly Father my folks taught me to trust and serve. That’ll be enough.”

  “Yes. Yes, He’s more than enough.” Her words wheezed out on a breathy note of gratitude. She squeezed his hands. “I’ll pray you safely there…and back?”

  “Oh yeah, I’ll be back in a couple of weeks or so.” He stifled a chuckle. All those years with sisters tugging at him, expecting him to fix this or that, sure prepared him for sheriffing. “Not willing to give up my badge. I like being the sheriff of Buffalo Creek.”

  Randall’s sharp ahem intruded—a warning Jesse couldn’t miss. He released Mrs. Shilling’s hand and took a backward step, grateful rather than resentful for the man’s protectiveness. Arthur Randall and the Widow Shilling made a fine couple. “Dodds Schlacter will fill in while I’m gone. I’ll make sure he knows what we talked about in case Sheriff Abling or the marshal calls.”

  He eased toward the door, glancing from Randall’s stoic face to Mrs. Shilling’s soft expression. “I’ll go by the dining room, tell the kids about my trip so they won’t look for me at the playground. You have a good week now, both of you.”

  Neva

  Sheriff Caudel disappeared around the corner. Arthur hurried after him, closed the door, then turned a serious look on Neva. “Let me buy it.”

  Neva gawked at him. “Wh-what?”

  He crossed the room and took hold of her limp hands. “I have the money. I can give it to you tomorrow if need be. Let me buy the mercantile, Neva.”

  Her legs went weak, and she sank onto the sofa with him still holding her hands. Only an hour ago he’d told her that expanding his business wouldn’t satisfy him. Had he changed his mind so quickly?

  He slipped onto the sofa next to her, their arms forming a bridge across their knees. “I’ll pay whatever you need to cover Warren’s debt. Or more, if you have need of extra money for…other things.” His forehead pinched as if a pain attacked. “Such as a move to California.”

  She sucked in her lower lip and held it between her teeth, her thoughts tumbling. Marsh Bobart had said it could be months, years even, before a buyer stepped forward, given the tough economic conditions in the state. If Arthur had ready cash to clear the debt, she should leap at it. He was offering her a fresh slate, a fresh start where no censure or recrimination would touch her. So why didn’t she accept?

  “I’ll give you the money, Neva, but I won’t use the mercantile. Not even if you go to California. I’ll maintain the building. I’ll make sure it isn’t broken into by mischief-makers or bums. But I’ll keep it for you. For Bud and Charley, in case you want to give it to them someday.”

  Neva gazed at him in amazement. “You would do that? But why?”

  A smile crept up his cheek, lifting the corners of his mustache and brightening his eyes. “B
ecause I know how it feels to want to leave something of worth to your children. And because I want to prove to myself—and to you, too, I suppose—that I have changed. The moneygrubber has learned that souls are more important than sales, yes?”

  “Oh, Arthur…” His image swam as tears flooded her eyes. “That’s a wonderful offer. May I have some time to pray about accepting it?”

  “I wouldn’t expect otherwise.” He gave her hands a gentle squeeze and then lifted them to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss on the back of one and then the other, then released her and stood. With his hands on his hips and one eyebrow angled high, he gazed down at her. “Of course, if you’d rather consider the money a loan, I’ll let you pay me back over time. Say…half of one tenth of one percent of the amount monthly until it’s paid in full?”

  She laughed, and the tears dissolved, bringing him clearly into view again. She loved the hint of teasing that glinted in his eyes. “Paying an amount so insignificant, I’d be beholden to you for the rest of my life.”

  The teasing glint became a smoldering flame that warmed her from the inside out. He said quietly, “I wouldn’t complain.”

  The arched clock on the mantel chimed three times, and Neva leaped up. “I had no idea the afternoon was slipping away so quickly. Adeline will be fussing for her nap. I’d better take the children home.”

  He opened the door and followed her up the hallway to the dining room. Except for the dirty dishes and a spattering of cookie crumbs, the room was empty. Shouts and laughter drifted from outside. Arthur guided her through the parlor, and they stepped out on the porch to witness a raucous, joy-filled scene better than any Norman Rockwell painting.

  The snowfall had stopped, leaving behind a half inch of powdery fluff incapable of clumping, but it didn’t seem to matter. On one side of the yard, a half-dozen boys—Leon, Leroy, Bud, Charley, and two more from the neighborhood—scooped up handfuls and flung it over the others’ heads and then ducked behind trees, their chortles and blasting laughs more beautiful than the sound of sleigh bells. On the other side, Cassie and a neighbor girl lay on the ground, creating snow angels, while Belle led Adeline and two more little girls in stomping a weaving path around them.

  Arthur chuckled. “I don’t think Adeline is ready for a nap yet.”

  Neva waved at the three-year-old as the parade passed by. She giggled and waggled her fingers back, her smile bright.

  Arthur leaned down and whispered, “You know, Neva, you can’t have this kind of fun in California.”

  She shook her head, a soft laugh trickling from her throat. “You’re right about that.”

  He caught her chin and tipped her face to him. “Stay?” His breath created a little cloud of condensation that brushed Neva’s cheek. His eyes glimmered with hope and something more—what Neva recognized as the greatest of these.

  She gave him her own hope-filled look. “All of us?” She held her breath.

  Arthur glanced across the yard, where their children continued to romp and play. His tender gaze fell on Adeline, then Cassie, and finally Charley. He smiled at her. “All of you.”

  Neva’s chest expanded with joy. Her breath whooshed out on a note of happy laughter. She nodded. “Yes, Arthur. We’ll stay.”

  A smile of pure hosanna broke across his face. He offered his hand and she took it. Then, together, they descended the steps to join their children.

  Readers Guide

  1. As the story opens, Neva learns her husband lied to her over the course of several years. In what ways does deception affect a person emotionally?

  2. Why do you think Warren wanted Charley, Cassie, and Adeline to be sent to Neva? Was his request cruel or compassionate?

  3. Jesse was raised by loving adoptive parents, but he never felt at home with them. Why do you think he struggled to believe his parents loved him? How did his early years prepare him for the challenges of law enforcement?

  4. Arthur is determined to build a successful business that he can pass on to his sons. Why is this so important to him? How does his determination to succeed have a negative effect on his family? Is it possible to be both a successful businessperson and a solid family leader? If so, how?

  5. Bud resented Charley’s intrusion into his family. Why was he so opposed to Charley’s presence? If you had the chance to advise Bud, what would you tell him?

  6. Charley is bullied at school first because of Bud’s mistreatment and then because of his status as an illegitimate child. Has your child ever been bullied? How did you handle the situation? How can we teach children that mistreating others is never appropriate?

  7. Why did Neva hold herself responsible for Warren’s infidelity? Have you ever felt accountable for someone else’s choices? How do we know when to assume responsibility and when to release self-recrimination for something another person has done?

  8. Jesse resented God for not answering his prayers. Ernie Savage advised him that “God knows what He’s doing” when He denies certain requests. How can we accept “no” answers without resentment?

  9. Neva never outright lies about Charley, Cassie, and Adeline, but she withholds portions of the truth. Is withholding the truth the same as lying? Is it ever appropriate to hide part of the truth? Why or why not?

  10. Bud and Neva have a discussion about sin during which Neva advises him that God views all sin as equal because all sin displeases God. Do you agree or disagree with Neva’s statement? Later in the story Neva chooses mercy because God is merciful. Are we expected to forgive every hurt inflicted on us by others? Why or why not?

  Acknowledgments

  My sincerest appreciation goes to the following people:

  Mom and Daddy, for modeling faithfulness to each other and for teaching me to trust God.

  Don, for standing by me in thick and thin. Marriage isn’t always easy, but it’s worth it.

  Kristian, Kaitlyn, and Kamryn, for teaching me how much a heart can expand.

  The Posse, for being the best group of prayer warriors ever.

  Shannon, Julee, Carol, and the team at WaterBrook, for your expertise, encouragement, and efforts to make the stories shine.

  Finally, and most importantly, God, for being my Strength when I am weak, my All when I am empty, and my Peace in the midst of every storm. May any praise or glory be reflected directly back to You.

  Hope and Hardship at Mammoth Cave

  Determined to provide for her family, twenty-one-year-old Rebecca Hardin cuts her hair, dons men’s clothes and introduces herself as “Reb” to the estate manager at Mammoth Cave.

  Fellow guides Devlin Bale and Tolly Branford soon discover Rebecca’s secret, and swear to keep it. But Devlin has a secret of his own that threatens his budding romance with Rebecca, and when the cave threatens to claim a member of the Hardin family, can Tolly and Devlin use their skills before it’s too late?

  Read an excerpt from this book and more at WaterBrookMultnomah.com!

  WATERBROOK PRESS