Hearts Aglow

by Tracie Peterson

  Mother laughed. “We’ve been hard at it for days. We knew we’d have our loggers helping, and they can eat like an army. But what a pleasant surprise to have so many of our friends and neighbors join us.”

  “Your family is one of the most admired in the county.” Mrs. Perkins lowered the basket. “Despite the recent troubles, I’m hopeful that perhaps this will afford us a coming together of hearts.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Mother agreed. “Perhaps if there were more positive things to dwell on, folks would be less likely to cause harm.”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking that very thing,” Mrs. Perkins replied.

  “Oh, who’s that with Pastor Shattuck?” Lizzie said, leaning toward Deborah. “She looks like she could be your relation.”

  Deborah followed Lizzie’s gaze and saw the young woman at the preacher’s side. She was nearly the same size and had dark black hair like Deborah, but unlike her, the stranger had arranged her tresses in a bevy of curls that gently draped her neck and shoulders. The young stranger carried herself in a very elegant manner, appearing to float across the yard on the pastor’s arm, a sort of teasing smile upon her lips.

  Looking back at Lizzie, Deborah leaned in to whisper. “I’m guessing it might be the pastor’s daughter. He has two children who, as I heard it, lived elsewhere with their grandmother.”

  “Mrs. Vandermark, Miss Vandermark,” Pastor Shattuck said as he approached and tipped his hat. He looked beyond them. “Mrs. Perkins, Mrs. Vandermark.”

  Mother stepped from the porch and extended her hand. “How are you, Pastor?”

  He shook her hand, then stepped aside. “This is my daughter, Mara. Mara, these are the Vandermark women.” He paused and smiled. “Of course, you’ve already met Mrs. Perkins.”

  “I’m delighted to make your acquaintances,” Mara Shattuck said, offering a brilliant smile. “My father has spoken so highly of you.”

  Mother took charge. “Well, we are quite pleased to finally meet you. I understand you’ve been living in New Orleans with your grandmother.”

  She nodded. “But now it’s time to help Father with God’s work.”

  The comment surprised Deborah. She had thought Pastor Shattuck rather negative when it came to women. He never wished to discuss the Bible with her, at least, always making some excuse when Deborah asked him about certain Bible verses.

  “I’m certain you will be an asset to him,” Deborah’s mother declared. “You must excuse us just now. We need to start putting together the noon meal.”

  “Truly? It’s only just past dawn,” Mara said, looking surprised.

  Mother laughed. “True enough, but we will need to ready the food, nevertheless. The men will work hard and need coffee and doughnuts to sustain them until lunch. If you’d like to help, we’d be glad for the extra hands.”

  Mara looked to her father, who nodded. She looked down at her stylish suit. “Do you suppose I could borrow an apron?”

  “Of course,” Mother assured. “We have plenty. In fact, if you’re worried about your clothes, Deborah would surely be able to loan you something.”

  Mara met Deborah’s gaze and smiled. “I’m sure an apron will be sufficient. I wouldn’t want to put anyone out.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Deborah replied.

  The dark-haired woman smiled. “Then perhaps I will take you up on the offer. This suit isn’t all that comfortable. Grandmother told me it was the height of fashion, but I find it less than serviceable for everyday.”

  Deborah’s mother chuckled. “We’ll fix you right up. Thank you for coming today, Pastor Shattuck. Perhaps you will offer grace at dinner?”

  He nodded. “For now, though, I’ll set aside my coat and roll up my sleeves. I’m quite good with a hammer.”

  Mother reached out to Mara. “Come along, ladies. We shall find something suitable for Miss Shattuck to wear.”

  “Oh, please call me Mara. I should like very much to be a good friend to each of you.”

  Deborah liked her immediately. She appeared so stylish and refined, but at the same time, Mara Shattuck held no pretense of airs.

  “Mother!” Rob crossed the yard carrying a large lidded pot. “Miz Huebner asked me to fetch in this pot of chicken and dumplings.”

  He stopped at the sight of Mara. His eyes widened slightly as a grin spread across his face. “I don’t reckon we’ve met.”

  “This is Mara Shattuck, the pastor’s daughter,” his mother introduced. “Mara, this is my youngest son, Rob.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr.

  Vandermark.”

  “Not nearly as pleased as I am.” He stood fixed in place and might have remained there had Mother not broken the spell.

  “Rob, Arjan is going to need you, so just go ahead and deliver the food to the kitchen.”

  “Maybe Mara could help me,” Rob said in his smooth, practiced manner. His blue-eyed gaze was fixed on the younger woman.

  “Help you carry the pot?” Deborah teased.

  Rob looked almost confused for a moment. “No, silly,” he finally managed. “I only figured maybe she could hold the door for me.”

  “I’d be happy to help, Mr. Vandermark.” Mara climbed the steps and cast a quick glance over her shoulder. “Is this the door of which you were speaking?”

  He quickly bounded onto the porch as if the heavy load weighed nothing at all. “That’s the one, and please . . . call me Rob.”

  Deborah rolled her eyes and looked to Lizzie. “My brother can move fast when he needs to.”

  “To be sure,” Lizzie whispered in reply.

  They followed after the others, smiling at their exchange. Deborah knew her brother could be quite charming when he wanted to be. He’d paid visits to most of the eligible young women in the area, checking the potential of each with the same thoroughness he might use to select a tool with which to work. It wasn’t surprising that he’d noticed Mara, although Deborah found the timing quite incredible – even for her brother.

  The lunch hour approached and the men were signaled to stop work. Deborah was amazed at how much they’d already accomplished. The main framework of the first floor was completed and a good portion of the second floor was in place, as well. An entire team of men even worked on setting the interior walls in place.

  Pastor Shattuck shared a blessing for the food and for the safety of the workers. So far the worst of the injuries had been when one of the children had fallen off the scaffolding. He looked to be sporting some bruises and a few scrapes but otherwise had been unharmed. Still, Deborah was glad to see Dr. Clayton show up just as the eating commenced.

  Deborah went to where he secured his horse under the shade of a hickory tree. “Just in time for dinner.”

  He grinned. “That was the plan. Have you ever known me to pass up a meal cooked by the Vandermark women?”

  She laughed. “Well, this meal happens to have been cooked by the entire community. We Vandermarks did plenty, but the ladies of Perkinsville have been most generous.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, looking toward the new structure. “Looks like the men have been, as well.”

  Deborah followed his gaze. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? I remember when we raised the church in a day. . . . Of course, back then the entire town turned out. Here, not so much. We have a good number, don’t get me wrong – but the tension at first was thick enough to cut with a knife. I figure there are still a good number of people here who don’t agree with our thoughts on racial matters and stayed away.”

  Christopher looked back to her and nodded. “I just made the rounds in town, and believe me, there were plenty of folks more than happy to speak their minds.” His expression darkened. “I’ve witnessed the damage that occurs when hatred and prejudice grows.”

  “Was it between blacks and whites?”

  For a moment he said nothing, and Deborah thought perhaps he would refuse to continue their conversation.

  “I’m sorry,” she w
hispered, putting her hand on his arm. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just sad to remember. And I see it all happening here again. There were battles in Kansas City between the black and whites, of course. And there were white folks during the war who were proslavery, as well as against it. They fought amongst themselves almost more than they fought in the war.”

  “We had a lot of that here, as well,” Deborah admitted. “Father called them guerillas. They were forever causing problems.”

  “Well, the same was true up north. They didn’t call Kansas ‘Bleeding’ without due cause. Kansas and Missouri very nearly had their own little war within the war. But there were other problems, as well.”

  “Such as?”

  He looked at her for a moment. “There were great prejudices among the whites toward other whites. For instance . . . the Irish. A great many folks take strong stands against the Irish. They dislike them for their fighting and drinking, not to mention their religious views. They dislike them for their culture – the way they speak – the things they love to eat. It doesn’t seem to matter. They feel that the Irish take jobs away from others who were there first.”

  “But aren’t the same problems true for the Italians and Polish?”

  Deborah questioned. “I know in Philadelphia, there were problems also with those of Jewish descent. It was sometimes quite ugly.”

  He nodded, then looked up at the canopy of trees toward the cloudless sky.

  “Well, are you going to let the doctor come and eat?” Deborah’s mother interrupted.

  Deborah hadn’t even heard her mother approach. “I’m sorry, Christopher. I didn’t mean to keep you from dinner.”

  He laughed and gave a brief bow to Mrs. Vandermark. “I don’t miss too many meals, as you can see.” He patted his stomach.

  “Nonsense,” Mother declared. “You are the very image of health. Fit as a fiddle, my mother would say. Can you stay for long?”

  “I can. I finished my rounds, and now I’m yours for the day. I figured that a house raising would be the perfect place for a doctor. One can never tell what might happen.”

  “Truer words were never spoken,” Mother replied. She entwined her arm with Dr. Clayton’s. “Come. I’ll show you where everything is.”

  Deborah followed behind as Christopher and her mother made their way to the luncheon table. Seeing that many of the men were out of coffee, she diverted to where Lizzie was already filling several pitchers.

  “Let me take those,” Deborah said, reaching for the full containers. “How are you feeling? Did you eat something?”

  Earlier, Lizzie had suffered some nausea, but now she looked quite well. “I feel much better. It’s G.W. I’m worried about. He seems so out of sorts.”

  “But why?” Deborah looked for her brother and didn’t find him.

  “He can’t get up on the ladders and help. He feels that he’s not able to do his part. I told him it was nonsense, but . . . well, I’m wondering if you could speak to your uncle and maybe let him know what the problem is. He might have some idea for what G.W. could do to be useful.”

  Deborah nodded. “I’ll mention it when I take the coffee. Don’t you worry, Lizzie. My brother can be quite cantankerous at times, but he usually comes around.” She smiled. “If not, I’ll give him a good elbow to the ribs.”

  Lizzie laughed. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

  Pouring coffee as she went, Deborah greeted the workers and made comments about their progress. The men seemed pleased to hear her praise. A few of the single men tried to get her to stay and chat, but she made it clear that she had to be moving on so that everyone could have coffee while it was still hot.

  She finally found Uncle Arjan and was happy to see he was just finishing. “I wonder if you could help me for a moment.”

  He looked at her oddly, but nodded. “What’s the problem?”

  She handed him the empty pitchers. “Follow me.”

  They went to where coffee was being poured into a large caldron to keep warm while more coffee was readied to perk in the pots. It had been like this all day, with Lizzie and a couple of other women focused on keeping coffee available to all the workers.

  “Lizzie is worried about G.W. She says he’s feeling rather useless. I was hoping you might have a special task for him.” She took the pitcher from her uncle and handed it over to Lizzie, who nodded in agreement.

  “His leg has been bothering him too much to get in there and really work,” Lizzie admitted. “He doesn’t like to favor it, but he can hardly do much else.”

  “I have the perfect solution,” Uncle Arjan declared. “He can be in charge of positioning the interior walls. He knows exactly what we want. I’ll tell him that since we’ve made such great progress, he can get the men to work inside while Rob and I get the upper floor finished and the roofing done.”

  Deborah smiled at Lizzie. “See – it’s all resolved.”

  “I’ll go find him and arrange things right now,” her uncle said. “Thanks for a mighty fine dinner. A nap would suit me just fine, but I guess I’ll get back to work.”

  The work continued until darkness made it impossible to see; the last of the shingles were put into place by lantern light. Those on the roof cheered loudly as Rob put in the final nail. He’d never been so tired in his life, but strangely, the action seemed to give him a second wind.

  Climbing down from the roof, Rob immediately spied Mara Shattuck and made his way to where she stood. “Well, what do you think?” he asked her.

  She smiled. “Looks like you won’t have to worry when the rains come.”

  “If they come. Most of the state is sufferin’ a horrible drought.” He wiped sweat from his face with the back of his sleeve. The chilly evening air felt good. “So, do you plan to be around long?”

  She looked at him and considered the question a moment. “I believe God brought me here, Mr. Vandermark. It seemed time to come and help my father with his ministry work.”

  “So is that a yes?” He gave her a broad grin.

  She returned his smile. “I believe it is – at least for the time. I try very hard to go where God leads. What of you, Mr. Vandermark?”

  “What do you mean?”

  A coy look crossed her face. “Do you go where God leads?”

  Rob felt a bit perplexed. He hadn’t intended for the conversation to veer toward religion. “I reckon I try to. I don’t suppose I’ve ever heard Him come right out and tell me exactly.”

  “Do you ask Him to speak to you?”

  Her question took him off guard. “Am I supposed to?”

  She gave a nod, her expression quite serious. “I believe we are. The Bible does admonish us to seek Him – to ask and it shall be given. It is of the utmost importance that we ask for His guidance. After all, surely we wouldn’t want to go where He does not lead us.”

  “No, I reckon you’re right on that.” He grinned. “You know, for a pretty gal, you do a lot of deep thinkin’.”

  “Well, Mr. Vandermark, I am much more than my outward appearance.” She turned to go, but stopped and gave him a smile.

  “Perhaps in time, you’ll learn that for yourself.”

  Rob wanted to rush after her – to suggest he get started on his learning right away – but something held him in place. He was known in the community as something of a ladies’ man. The family often joked that he had first spoken of marriage at the tender age of four when he spied a young neighbor girl at church and declared her just the kind of gal he’d like to get hitched with.

  Since that time, there had been a great many young women who’d held his attention and his heart. Often when a new gal came to town, Rob would find himself convinced she was the one for him – at least until another young lady appeared to take his attention.

  Now, however, he found himself feeling rather gut-punched. Mara Shattuck was unlike most of the other women he’d met. She seemed so sure of herself, and
of course, she was easy on the eyes. But there was also something more. Something he couldn’t quite explain. She had a way about her that left him feeling as though there was something more he needed to know – something that only she could tell him. Something that would complete him.

  “She looks like Deborah,” G.W. said as he joined Rob.

  Rob looked at him and shook his head. “Who does?”

  “Miss Shattuck. Don’t you think she favors our sister?”

  He shook his head, unable to imagine what G.W. was talking about. Sure, the beauty had dark hair and eyes, but she looked nothing like Deborah. “I think you need spectacles, brother of mine. Those two don’t look a thing alike.”

  CHAPTER 7

  MARCH 1886

  “Frankly, I can hardly believe the celebration is tomorrow,” Rachel Perkins told Euphanel. “Seems like this year has already gone by so quickly.”

  “I have to agree. It started with so many sorrows,” Euphanel replied.

  “Indeed it did. Speaking of which, how is Sissy?” Putting down the curtain she’d been hemming, Rachel reached for her cup of tea.

  “She’s much better. She likes to sit for a little while now. Her head will start paining her, however, so she doesn’t spend too much time up. Doc says it will be a while before she’s herself again. She might always suffer headaches.”

  “That must be so hard for her. I’ve never known Sissy to sit for long.”

  Euphanel nodded and tied off her stitch. “She’s never even been one for standing still. I know it’s hard for her to just rest, but I remind her that it’s the only way to heal.”

  Rachel smiled. “And what does she say?”

  Laughing, Euphanel put the finished curtain panel aside and picked up the next one. “She tells me that the Lord can heal her with a single touch, just like He did folks in the Bible. I agreed, but told her that until He decided to do that, she had to rest.”

  “I do wish Zed could find out who was responsible. I know he had our boys go to Lufkin to ask around there about the White Hand of God, but he told me that no one seems to know anything – or if they do, they aren’t talking.”