A Time to Love

by Al Lacy

  Pastor Frye announced the wedding in the Sunday evening service, and afterward the church people offered their congratulations.

  During the week, Linda and Sadie went shopping to pick out the wedding dress, and Sadie bought herself a new dress for the wedding. The two of them also worked hard at the house, making more changes. On Thursday the new furniture arrived, and when Haman came home from his day at the bank, he was very pleased with what Linda had done to make the house take on her personality.

  The wedding took place on Saturday afternoon at 2:00 P.M. It was attended by all of Haman’s employees, many of the businessmen who did their banking at Great Plains Bank, and most of the members of the church.

  Haman stood tall in a black suit with a paisley vest and black cravat. As he thought of the fact that he was standing where Blake Barrett had wanted to stand, his eyes took on an evil glint and a smirk curved his lips. He caught himself and blinked a couple of times, reminding himself to smile pleasantly.

  Linda was exquisitely clad in a light blue dress of watered silk. It fit her perfectly and flattered her graceful figure. The high neck was edged in delicate lace, and the puffed sleeves tapered down at her wrists with a double row of lace. She wore a small blue hat the same shade as her dress and adorned in simplicity with small white flowers.

  In her hands, covered with white lace gloves, she carried a small nosegay of white roses tied with blue satin ribbons. The whole effect made a lovely picture as she stood beside Haman in the muted glow of sunlight coming through the windows.

  Pastor Frye began the ceremony with words of welcome to the guests, then read from Genesis chapter two about the wedding of Adam and Eve, which was performed by God Himself.

  Though she struggled against it, Linda’s mind kept flashing back to the wedding that almost took place in Boston. This is not at all what I had pictured for my wedding when I was growing up, she thought. No bridesmaids, no maid of honor, no ring bearer and flower girl. She felt tears prick at the back of her eyelids and blinked rapidly to dispel them.

  Lost in her own thoughts, she was unaware of what the pastor was saying. Suddenly she became aware that Pastor Frye was looking at her strangely, and there was dead silence. They must be waiting for her reply, but she had no idea what the question was.

  She blinked in confusion and said, “I … I’m sorry, Pastor. Would you mind repeating those words?”

  Haman frowned at her, then looked back at Frye.

  Frye smiled nervously and said, “Linda Forrest, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together with him in the bonds of holy matrimony, and do you promise to keep yourself only unto him so long as you both shall live?”

  “I … do,” she replied.

  From that moment, Linda made a concentrated effort to keep her mind on the rest of the ceremony.

  It was over shortly, and before she knew it, the pastor was giving his permission to kiss the bride. Then Pastor Frye introduced them as Mr. and Mrs. Blake Barrett, and they hurriedly walked up the aisle with Linda’s hand tucked firmly in the crook of Haman’s arm.

  Haman had arranged for a large reception at the dining room of the Wyoming Hotel. He would have liked to serve liquor to perk up the occasion, but knew he dared not.

  Linda enjoyed visiting with the friends she had made at church, some of whom were also employees at the Great Plains Bank.

  Haman stood there, talking first to one person, then another, and smugly told himself he had pulled off his deception without a hitch. He always got what he wanted. He laughed inside as he thought of the real Blake Barrett, rotting in prison.

  Linda valiantly turned her thoughts from Lewis and what might have been and determined in her heart to be a loving and submissive wife to Blake.

  There was no time for a honeymoon. Haman told Linda it was too early yet to be away from the bank for any length of time.

  As time passed, Linda and Sadie worked together around the house a good part of each day. Linda was still making little changes here and there, using some decorating schemes she had learned from her mother and from Aunt Beth. When Sadie wasn’t helping Linda, she was doing her regular duties.

  One day, as they were having tea together, Linda said, “Sadie, you’ve started to talk about your childhood on several occasions, but it seems there’s always an interruption. How about telling me about it right now?”

  “Oh. Well, all right,” said the pudgy little woman. “I was six years old when I came to America from England with my parents. We settled in New York City, but my father began to hear things about the wild and woolly West. Soon he got the ‘itch’ to go west so bad that he packed us up, took us to Missouri, and joined a wagon train at Independence. We crossed the wide Missouri River and headed across the Nebraska plains.”

  Sadie went on for some time, telling tale after tale of the journey westward in the wagon train. Pretty soon she said, “That’s all for now, honey. It’s time for this housekeeper to get back to her work. I don’t want the mister to fire me!”

  Linda’s eyes twinkled as she said, “If the mister fired you, the missus would just hire you right back!”

  The two women had a good laugh together and went back to their separate tasks.

  Some two weeks after she had written to her parents, Linda received a letter from her mother, which also had a note from her father tucked in the envelope. They were rejoicing that things were going so well for their daughter, and both reminded her how very much they loved her and missed her.

  Linda was sitting in the library, weeping, as she held the letters in her hand, when Sadie stepped in and said, “What’s wrong, honey?”

  Linda looked at her through her tears and said, “Nothings wrong, really, Sadie. I received a letter from my parents. I just miss them so much.”

  “Aw, honey, I know it’s got to be hard.”

  She wrapped her ample arms around Linda and cuddled her as a mother would her small child. Linda wept some more, then finally gained control.

  “I know I can’t take your mother’s place, honey,” Sadie said, “but when you need to talk, I’ve got big ears.”

  Linda kissed the woman’s plump cheek. “Thank you, Sadie. You are truly a blessing.”

  A few days later, Linda received a letter from Joline, which helped her a great deal. She had sent off another letter to her parents, and now took the time to immediately respond to Joline’s.

  Each day as they spent time together, Sadie told Linda more stories about her wagon train journey to Wyoming. Many of the incidents were humorous, but Sadie took note that even though Linda smiled, the smile never reached her pretty eyes.

  One day in mid-March, a snowstorm was blowing outside. Linda and Sadie sat down in the kitchen and began polishing the silverware.

  With cups of steaming hot tea before them, Sadie looked at the young woman with the sad eyes and said, “Linda, dear, you’ve never told me about your life in Boston. I’d like to hear about it.”

  “Well, I … I don’t want to bore you.”

  “It won’t bore me,” Sadie assured her. “You’ve come to mean a lot to me. I’m very much interested in your past.”

  “Where shall I start?”

  “Best place I know of is the beginning.”

  “You mean from the time I was born?”

  “Yes.”

  Linda’s lips curved in a sly grin. “All right. I clearly remember the day I was born. There was this sudden flash of light, the temperature took a sudden drop, and someone slapped me real hard on my posterior. Then I remember being dried off, and—”

  Sadie shook with laughter. “You little scamp! Now, get serious!”

  It felt so good to Linda to be able to laugh and have a good time. She told Sadie of her happy childhood and growing up years. She told her some things about Janet that were actually pleasant in her memory, then told her of the day she opened her heart to Jesus, and how He had saved her and made Himself so real to her.

  As she described her t
een years she came to the point in time when she met Lewis Carter and slowly fell in love with him. Sadie listened quietly, wondering if she was about to learn why Linda carried the sadness in her eyes.

  Linda stammered a bit as she told of her engagement to Lewis, the happiness she knew as the day of their wedding drew nigh; then she broke down and wept as she told of being left at the church on the day of the wedding as Lewis and Janet ran off together.

  “Honey,” Sadie said, “since I first laid eyes on you, I’ve known you hurt deep inside. It showed in your eyes. I’m so sorry for what you’ve gone through. I hope the sadness in your eyes will go away in time, as you go on in your life with the mister.”

  “Me, too,” sniffed Linda. “But—”

  Sadie looked her square in the eye. “But what, child?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “C’mon, now. You can tell me. I’m your friend.”

  Linda shook her head. “No, Sadie. I really shouldn’t.”

  “Is it about the mister?”

  Linda cleared her throat nervously. “Y-yes.”

  “He’s your husband, and you don’t want to say anything about him to someone else.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Let me guess. You’re wondering about his relationship with the Lord.”

  Linda’s eyes widened. “Why … yes. How did you know?”

  “Because I’ve wondered too, dear. There’s no witness of the Spirit between the mister and me when we’re together. You know, like there is between you and me and other Christians.”

  “You’ve hit the nail on the head,” Linda said. “Maybe all this change in his life has gotten him away from a close walk with the Lord, and his heart has turned cold.”

  Before Linda arrived in Cheyenne City, Sadie had actually seen a cruel side of the man she knew as Blake Barrett, but she would not divulge this to Linda. Instead, she took Linda’s hands in hers and said, “Let’s pray for the mister right now, honey. Let’s ask God to work in his heart and bring him out of his backslidden state, if that’s what it is.”

  “Oh, thank you, Sadie. Yes! Let’s do that.”

  Sadie led in prayer, asking the Lord to do His work in Blake’s heart and life. She then asked the Lord to help Linda stand by her husband and love him as a Christian wife should, and to bring Linda perfect happiness.

  When both women had dried their eyes, Linda said, “I’ve got some work to do, Sadie.”

  “Me, too,” said the plump woman.

  “Maybe you can suggest what I should do with the two chairs from the sewing room I replaced with new ones. I can’t throw them out, but they’re taking up valuable space where I stacked them on the back porch.”

  “How about the attic?” Sadie asked. “There’s quite a bit of room up there.”

  “The attic! That’s one place in the house I haven’t been. What’s up there?”

  “Just some old pieces of furniture the previous owners left up there. Some old paintings, among other things. And the mister’s trunk that he brought from California.”

  “But there’s still room for the sewing chairs?”

  “Oh my, yes. Would you like me to help you carry them up there?”

  “That won’t be necessary, Sadie. You go on with your chores. I’ll take them up.”

  The door leading to the attic was next to the hall closet on the second floor. Linda carried both straight-backed wooden chairs to the second floor and left one in the hall while she carried the other up the narrow passage and steep stairs. The air was close and had a musty smell. There was a layer of dust on most everything except the old trunk that sat near one of two small windows. Linda glanced at it curiously as she placed the chair in the opposite corner beside a dust-covered sewing machine laden with cobwebs. In another corner were some overstuffed chairs, a couple of small tables, and dusty, cobwebbed coal oil lamps. Behind them, leaning against an ancient potbellied stove, were several old paintings.

  Moments later she returned with the other chair and set it beside the first. Glancing around, she decided it had been a long time since anyone had cleaned the attic. She’d attend to it soon. But the wind was howling outside, and snow was beating against the windows. It was cold up here, too. She’d worry about cleaning the attic some other time.

  As she headed back toward the steep, narrow stairs, she glanced at Blake’s trunk again, noting its large padlock.

  As time passed, Haman Warner treated Linda like a queen, often buying her gifts and making an effort to improve his gentlemanly virtues. He was so happy to have such a lovely creature as his wife.

  Linda appreciated the kindness and attention he gave her, but he definitely wasn’t the devoted Christian he’d led her to believe in his letters.

  One evening, a couple in the church named Alex and Dorothy Helms had the Barretts to their home for supper. Haman was quite nervous but did his best to mask it.

  After supper, the foursome was sitting in the parlor talking, and some discussion came up about certain Scripture passages in the Bible. Haman sat in absolute silence, for the passages were totally foreign to him. Both Linda and the Helmses wondered that Blake stayed out of the conversation. Certainly anyone familiar with the Bible would want to join in the discussion.

  The conversation soon turned to what had brought Alex and Dorothy to the Lord. They gave their testimonies about when they had been saved, and the circumstances that led up to it.

  Linda then told about when she was saved as a child in Boston under the preaching of her pastor. When she finished, all eyes went to Haman.

  Cold sweat beaded his brow. He nonchalantly brushed it away as he said, “Well, ol’ Blake here got saved when he was attending a revival meeting in San Jose, California, some ten or eleven years ago.”

  A red flag went up in Linda’s mind. In one of his letters, Blake had told her how he got saved, and it didn’t match what he’d just said.

  As Haman drove the carriage on their way home, Linda sat close to him under the buffalo hide blanket, her arm entwined in his, and said casually, “Blake, I remember that in one of your letters you told me your mother had led you to the Lord when you were nine years old. You didn’t say anything at all about being saved at a revival meeting when you were a teenager.”

  Haman felt a sharp ache of tension settle behind his eyes. “Oh, I guess I didn’t tell it quite right, heh-heh. Of course, Mom led me to the Lord when I was nine. I … uh … I rededicated my life at the revival meeting in Santa Rosa.”

  “I thought you said it was in San Jose.”

  “Oh! What did I just say?”

  “Santa Rosa.”

  “Mmm. Sorry. I meant San Jose.”

  Linda said no more. In her heart, she asked the Lord to help her make the best of a very disappointing situation.

  A couple of evenings later, Linda had allowed Sadie to go to a widows’ meeting at church that included supper. Linda had prepared a very special meal for Blake, recalling that in one of his letters he said he loved meatloaf.

  When they sat down at the table, Haman began loading his plate with vegetables.

  “Blake …?”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  “Aren’t you going to eat the meatloaf?”

  “I really appreciate you fixing supper for me tonight, honey,” he said in a soft tone, “but I really don’t care for meatloaf.”

  Linda watched him carefully as she said, “You told me in one of your letters that you love meatloaf. When did your taste buds change?”

  Haman suddenly burst out laughing and said, “Just a little joke, darling! I was simply having a little fun. Of course I love meatloaf! It’s one of my favorite meals.” As he spoke, he picked up the meatloaf platter and slid a couple of slices onto his plate.

  Linda played along by giggling and said, “Blake Barrett, you ornery scoundrel!”

  They laughed together, and Haman ate the meatloaf in spite of his dislike for it.

  While the meal progressed, Linda decided to bait him. She
got him on the subject of his childhood. In one of Blake’s letters, he’d told her that his mother never spanked him as a child. When he was bad, she merely told his father when he came home from work, and Bradley Barrett had whipped him accordingly.

  After Haman had told about some childhood incident, Linda asked casually, “Blake, how often did your mother have to whip you when you were a boy?”

  Haman laughed. “At least three times a week, until I got big enough to outrun her. But boy … when she whipped me as a little guy, she used a leather belt and whipped me with the buckle end!”

  Linda filed this latest inconsistency in her mind.

  Over the past several days, she had looked through Blake’s desk in the library, and all of his drawers and belongings in their bedroom, but had found nothing that would shed any light on the real man she had married. Deep in her heart was a growing concern that shed made a big mistake in marrying Blake, yet in her mind she kept trying to find ways to give a reason for his inconsistencies. He was her husband, and she’d promised to love, honor, and obey him.

  The next day, while Sadie was marketing, Linda thought of Blake’s trunk in the attic. Maybe its contents would reveal some clues to his strange behavior. She remembered the heavy-duty padlock, but by this time she was so upset that breaking the lock was something she’d just have to do.

  She took a hammer from the kitchen cupboard and headed for the attic. As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, her only thought was that she wanted to find a way to restore Blake to his former self. She didn’t know how the trunk might help do that, but she couldn’t let things go on as they were.

  Linda knelt beside the trunk and hit the latch several times until it broke and the padlock fell off. With trembling fingers and a prayer in her heart, she slowly lifted the lid and let her gaze drop to the contents of the trunk. Her eyes fell first on some homemade toys from Blake’s childhood, along with some articles of outdated little boy’s clothing, which lay on top of a beautiful old quilt. She ran her hands over the quilt, marveling at the workmanship that had gone into it. When she lifted it out of the trunk, a large brown envelope caught her attention. Unlike the other articles in the trunk, it was obviously quite new. Her heart beat faster, and her hands shook so badly she had to clasp them together for a moment to still them.