by Marian Wells
Together Amy and Daniel walked slowly back to the cabin. Because Amy couldn’t think of anything else to say, she asked, “What are we going to do with those smelly old clothes hanging on the wall?” She wrinkled her nose and led the way inside.
Daniel closed the door. With a shrug, he said, “We won’t stay in this cabin long. I didn’t get to tell you this yesterday. The presiding elder is assigning me to one of the fellows.”
“What does that mean?” Amy asked slowly.
“That I have a job. We’ll be staying here and I’ll be riding circuit. I’ll be called an exhorter until I learn my job. Next summer, if my work is approved, I’ll be appointed my own circuit. Amy, I’m just guessing this. But after watching the way the gold camps are settling right and left, I expect we’ll be sent off up into the mountains for a couple of years.”
“Mountains? I would hate that!” she said passionately. “Daniel, I’m your wife. Please listen to me.”
“Well, of course,” he said slowly with a puzzled frown. “I’ll do everything within my power to make you happy. But Amy, I can’t choose where we’ll live. Surely you won’t want me to give up my calling.”
“No, of course not,” she said breathlessly. She hesitated, then walked around the table and faced him. “Circuit—does that mean you’ll be gone much of the time, like April’s husband? That you’ll leave me in a mining camp with those rough miners? I’ve heard tales.”
“You know they’ll treat you with respect. Furthermore, they’ll be looking out for your welfare.”
She shivered. “I suppose it wouldn’t be unbearable—but that first year!” She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Please, Daniel, I would be so lonesome.”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked cautiously.
“There’s plenty of churches in Illinois, Ohio—even Indiana. Please—any place but here!”
He was studying her face, and she was glad she’d pushed curls down around her ears this morning. She made a pout of her lips just as the dance-hall girls did. His glance slid off somewhere around her ear and she pressed close to him.
“Amy.” His voice was muffled. “I won’t let you try these games on me. Right now you remind me of the—the girls in Central City.”
As Amy retreated across the room, there was a knock on the door. She saw the relief on Daniel’s face as he went to open it.
“Daniel Gerrett?” The fellow came into the room. “I was just ready to ride out when I heard you were here. Didn’t get a chance to talk with you at meeting, but Goode has asked me to take you on my circuit. I’m leaving right now and thought this would be as good a time as any to get acquainted with you and show you the territory.”
He paused, embarrassed, “Guess I should introduce myself. I’m Silas Jeffry. Wife and I live in the fort. It’s cheap living and a little more secure for her while I’m gone.” He nodded at Amy. “We ought to start before nightfall; it’s a ways to our first stop. We ride the trails straight west from here. Doesn’t sound like much, but there’s close to a hundred settlers scattered across the plains. Not what you’d call a regular town, but anywhere I go, I’m finding the people willing to drop what they are doing and come listen to a preacher. Dan, they’re hungry people out there, hungry to hear the Gospel.”
Amy was watching the change on Daniel’s face. His shoulders straightened. By the time the fellow finished, Daniel was grinning with delight.
The stranger turned to Amy. “Begging your pardon. Ma’am, I’d heard you were new wedded, but—”
“She understands,” Daniel interrupted. “I’ll gather my things together and meet you at the fort in a couple of minutes.”
“Daniel!” she cried as the door closed, “just like that, you’ll ride out of here and leave me alone?”
He dropped his Bible on the table and came to her. “Oh, Amy,” he groaned, “don’t make it harder than it is. I don’t want to leave you. But after that scene at camp meeting, for both our sakes, I’d better toe the line. We’ll be back within a week. There’s plenty of food.”
He tried to smile. “Besides, you’ll have a whole week to decide what to do with the clothes.” Studying her face, he frowned. “I’ll admit I don’t know much about womenfolk, but you’ll be safe here. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Speechless she stared up at him. Catching her close, he pressed his lips to hers, murmuring, “Don’t look like that. I can’t take it. Amy, I don’t want to go. But I’d feel like a rotter if I didn’t.”
She pushed away. “Obviously your calling is more important than your wife.” She hesitated, but the words came despite her resolve. “If you love me, you won’t go.”
“Amy,” he cried, “you can’t say that! Are you insisting I choose between God and you?”
She couldn’t answer. He waited a moment while she refused to meet his eyes. She heard his step and the door closed behind him.
Slowly Amy sat down, gulping and blinking at the tears. It won’t matter. I won’t let it matter to me. First Lucas and now Daniel. She shivered beside the dark cold fireplace.
When she finally stood up, she picked up the plate Daniel had left on the table. Turning it slowly, she spoke the unbelievable words. “Just wed, and Daniel walks out leaving me alone. That hurts, more’n I’ll ever let on.”
She stared down at the plate. Instead of the plain clay surface, she saw a picture of the agony on Daniel’s face. Abruptly she turned and flung the plate against the wall. “There, Mr. Daniel Gerrett.”
She was still breathing heavily, clenching her fist, when the mental image of the white house with the Brussels carpet rose to taunt her. She threw herself on the bunk and wept.
When Amy finally went to wash her swollen eyes, she faced the squalor of the cabin. “This is my life now? Not if I can help it!” Shuddering, she picked the greasy trousers and shirt off the wooden pegs and carried them out the door, marching with the garments held at arms length.
She found a wooden barrel under a tree and dropped the clothing in it. When she heard the sodden splash she winced, then smiled. “Mr. What’s-his-name, they’ll be clean when you come back from the mountains.”
Still trembling with anger, she scrubbed the furniture and replaced the pine boughs on the crude bunk. While cleaning the litter from the shelf, she found a pen, ink, and crumpled paper. Slowly she sat down.
Toying with the items, she thought of the letter she would write. But to whom? Who would care about her life now? Father?
Putting aside the paper she took the little milk pail and started for the cabin at the end of the road. With a sigh, she considered the night and the days to follow. “What am I to do? Amy, how could you get yourself into such a mess?” she said out loud. Love, honor—forever, as long as we both shall live. The tears rolled down her cheeks.
Amy was nearly home with her pail of milk when she heard the shouting. Wondering at the commotion, she stopped and turned. An old man coming down the road toward her lifted his hat. “Ma’am.” He stopped beside her and shoved his hat back on his forehead, saying, “That there is the stage coming through. Seein’s you’re a-standing in the road, you could get hit.”
Amy backed into the weeds lining the road. “Stage?” She backed farther. “A stage out here? Where’s it going?”
“Denver City.” He came closer. “Comes through here every two days. Comes direct from Julesburg, where the big ferry is. Sure puts us on the map. It’s pretty important, a stage stop. Some of us, who don’t have nothin’ better to do, aren’t above standing out to watch it come through.”
There were more shouts and the cloud of dust drifted away as the bouncing coach slowed for the curve. It stopped in front of the fort, and the people spilled out.
“Oh, some fancy-looking ladies,” chuckled the old man. “Times are right good when the gals come into town all decked out in their finery.”
“Where are they going?” Amy asked as she studied the parasols and bright dresses billowing out of the stage.
&
nbsp; “The mining camps, probably. Not much going on in Denver City since the gold petered out in the cricks. Besides, I heard Ada LaMont about has the business sewed up in Denver City.” He chuckled and shook his head.
It was the next day before the idea of leaving came to Amy. In the midst of unpacking her valise, she found the coin. It was the gold birthday coin Father had given her, wrapped in the lacy handkerchief from Lucas.
Instantly the idea of getting on that stage presented itself full blown in her mind. She gasped and said, “Amy Gerrett, you are out of your mind. What is getting into you?”
It was past noon when she looked at the flour and thought of making bread. But there was only the iron kettle to serve as an oven. Shaking her head she muttered, “I’m not that old-fashioned. I need a stove if I’m to bake.”
As the day wore on, gloomy rainclouds drifted in over the river, pelting the front yard with a heavy, cold rain. Amy huddled beside the fireplace and tried to coax the smoking fire into a blaze.
Hugging her arms about herself, she winked back the tears, but couldn’t brush away the thoughts Daniel’s abrupt departure spelled out in her mind. And as the fire began to flicker into a steady flame, anger kindled in her again.
At suppertime, she addressed the smoking fire, “Just maybe the best lesson Mr. Daniel Gerrett could get would be to come home and find an empty cabin.”
Still nursing the anger, she took the ink well and the pile of crumpled paper to the table. As she ate her supper, she thought, It could be a lark. If she were to take the stage to Denver City and meet Father, he most certainly would have things to say about Daniel going off and leaving her alone.
And Daniel. When he found the cabin empty, he would have second thoughts about staying in this dismal place. She murmured, “More’n kissing, and it sure could help!”
In the morning, after choosing her skirt and white shirtwaist for traveling, Amy packed her valise. She looked at the pen and paper. “Might as well give him time to do some proper worrying,” she murmured, pulling the paper toward herself.
Dear Daniel, she wrote, I’ve gone to be with Father. I’m wondering if this isn’t all a big mistake. It seems best to go now, before—She stopped and crossed out the last word. She was still sitting there, wondering what to write when she heard the distant shouts.
Rushing to the window, she saw the cloud of dust. “Oh, no!” she cried. “My foolin’ will cause me to miss that stage.” She picked up her valise and dashed through the door.
Chapter 15
Daniel and Silas Jeffry, homeward bound, forded the Platte that next Tuesday. As they dismounted in front of the fort, a woman came running out to meet them.
“My wife,” Silas murmured, lifting his hand, “and she looks anxious.”
“Oh, Silas,” she threw herself at him. “It’s so terrible. I really meant to go, but it was raining hard, and then the next day she was gone. Old man Morton told me she took the stage.”
“What are you saying?” Silas asked as the woman glanced fearfully at Daniel.
Daniel’s heart sank as he guessed. “Mrs. Jeffry, are you talking about Amy?” She nodded while she stared at the ground and poked her foot against the clump of weeds Daniel’s mare was nosing.
“Does anyone know why?” Silas’s voice was flat.
“It was just too soon,” Daniel answered. “She begged me to stay with her.”
Silas spoke slowly while he studied Daniel under frowning brows. “Being a preacher’s daughter, I’d have guessed her to be tougher than that.” He looked at his wife. “Did she tell anyone where she was going?”
Mrs. Jeffry was shaking her head. “We all talked about it, and seems the only ones she spoke to were the Barts, where she bought milk, and old Morton.”
Daniel turned away. “I need to go think this out. I’ll probably be heading for Central City for a talk with her father. She’ll be there.”
Daniel saw the note as soon as he walked into the cabin. He read it and when he reached the crossed-out word, he winced. “Before,” he muttered. “Before she’s in any deeper? Before our marriage had a chance, or did she mean before God could catch up with her? My poor little darling, I’ve failed you before we’ve begun. And you’ve left before I understood the dark places in your heart.”
Daniel had plenty of time for thinking as he rode. For two days he tried to recall everything he could about Amy. There were pictures long past and others he had begun to see the night of their wedding. Was I misreading it all? Love? Dear Lord, have I run ahead of you again? Guess this foolish heart was presuming when it shouldn’t have. My guesses about Amy were wrong.
In Denver City he returned the Goodes’ horse. The presiding elder wasn’t at home, and he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was spared an explanation. As soon as he left the Goodes’ cabin, he headed up Clear Creek canyon. That night he camped beside the trail and thought some more.
One picture stayed sharp and clear—Amy, silent and waiting beside the ruins of the mine. He saw the tears in her eyes as he thought through the words of the song she had sung.
Eli Randolph wasn’t at home when Daniel arrived. The door of the cabin was latched and the film of dust on the log step sent him searching at the general store.
“Parson?” the young fellow said, “Why he’s been gone for two days. Went to put his sister on the stage. You know, Randolph’s daughter got married sudden-like, and his sister’s going back to live with her brother in eastern Kansas.”
He was watching Daniel’s face curiously as he added, “Seems things are in an uproar. The daughter was promised to marry a young fella by the name of Tristram. Then she up and eloped with another guy. Don’t know his name. Seems strange for the daughter of a preacher. All the town’s a-buzzing. You could go see Aunt Clara Brown. Seems she’s the only one not upset by it all.”
He continued. “That young lady turned down a pack of money and easy living. The guy was doing right well.” He paused to sigh wistfully before adding, “They’re saying Tristram threatened to torch the new house he’s been building for her. Come to think, he might could give you some information. Seemed pretty close to the family.”
“No.” Daniel backed toward the door. “I’ll just head for Denver City; I’ll probably’ll meet up with Mr. Randolph.”
“If you want to leave your name, I’ll tell him about you.”
Daniel studied the curious eyes and shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll go looking for him.”
On the outskirts of Black Hawk, Daniel crossed Clear Creek. While he was still trying to decide which road to take, he heard the wagon rumbling and thumping over the rocky surface.
It was Eli. Until he recognized Daniel, Eli was grinning as if he hadn’t a care in the world. And Daniel stood in the road, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he waited for the man to look up.
When Eli hauled back on the reins, Daniel came close. With a heavy sigh, he said, “I’ll follow you home.”
Eli asked, “Amy?”
All the way back up the gulch, Daniel picked through facts and wondered what he would say. One thing was certain. Amy hadn’t come home, and Eli knew nothing about her.
When they faced each other across the table, by the dim west light, Daniel could see the change. The carefree expression was gone and the man’s eyes were shadowed in a way he couldn’t understand.
Daniel began. “The day you left, Silas Jeffry came after me to travel the circuit with him. It was my job, sir. I had to go.” Eli was nodding and suddenly he looked like a feeble old man.
Daniel finally stirred. “When we returned Silas’s wife met us. The whole town was buzzing with the story of Amy’s leaving. She just got on the stage and left without saying a word to anyone.”
He waited a moment longer before adding, “There was a note saying it was a mistake. Sir, before I left she tried to get me to leave the territory. Wanted to go back east. She talked about my taking a church back there. I didn’t take her too seriously. Guess I sho
uld have spent the time telling her how I would have to go to school to learn to be a preacher back in those fancy churches.”
Eli’s eyes seemed to pierce the gloom, “Is that the kind of life you’re wanting? To be a fancy preacher with a big church?”
“No, sir. I know what the Lord has done for me, and that’s the way I want to preach it to others. Don’t have too much confidence in religion that’s only a membership in church. Sir, I believe in the same kind of religion those fellows in Acts had. A walk with God through the Holy Spirit. Isn’t that what it takes to make a fellow go craving after all the Lord has in store for him?”
Eli was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, the room was completely dark. “All?” he asked. “That’s a big word. Daniel, do you want all?”
“Yes, sir, I really mean it. I’ve realized there’s no other way to live and be content with myself.”
“Then take my advice. Do what the Lord wants you to do and forget about Amy.”
Finally Daniel cleared his throat. “Forget? Sir, I guess I didn’t make it clear. I love Amy. She’s my wife and I want to spend my life making her happy.”
His voice was bitter. “It hasn’t occurred to you that you can’t have both?”
“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
“It’s Jesus Christ or Amy, not both.”
“It sounds like you’re saying being married to your daughter and being a preacher is impossible.”
There was silence for a long time. Daniel was conscious only of numbness growing inside. His mind was still busy thinking of Amy and that new side he had begun to see. He was also thinking of those things the fellow in the store had talked about—Amy being engaged. She hadn’t mentioned Tristram. Finally he sighed and asked, “Is it because you don’t want us to be married?”
“Son,” Eli sounded as if he were choking, “I don’t want to talk about this, but it’s bad blood. I should have guessed it would come to this sooner or later. Just don’t ask. Go and be the kind of man God wants you to be.”