Shine Like the Dawn

by Carrie Turansky

  Samuelson rubbed his jaw. “That puts you in a difficult position.”

  Nate blew out a breath. “Yes, it does.”

  “But it might be best to let someone who is not personally involved take over the investigation.”

  “That may be true, but the consequences could be disastrous.”

  “In what way?”

  “If Maggie goes to the police, they’ll want to question Helen, and she won’t be able to hide her affair or the fact that she’s being blackmailed. And you know what kind of scandal that will cause. My reputation will be damaged at Clifton and in the community, and Clara’s options for marriage will be limited at best.”

  Reverend Samuelson nodded, then he clasped his hands behind his back as they continued down the lane.

  The muscles in Nate’s neck tensed as he tried to quiet his conscience, but it was impossible. “I promised Maggie I would help her discover the truth. But how can I do that when her false assumptions will most likely destroy my family’s reputation beyond repair?”

  “I can see you’re torn about your response.”

  “That’s putting it lightly.”

  Samuelson walked on for a few seconds, then glanced at Nate. “Perhaps there’s some way you could keep your promise to Maggie and still protect your family.”

  “I don’t see how. Maggie is determined to go to the police as soon as matters with the strike are settled.”

  Samuelson gazed off toward the fields for a few seconds, then looked back at Nate. “If the police question your stepmother and her actions are exposed, that might be just the motivation she needs to confess her misdeeds and turn her life around.”

  Nate scowled. “You don’t know my stepmother.”

  “Perhaps not, but God has a way of using challenging circumstances for good when we allow Him time and room to work.”

  Nate pondered that for a moment. “I know that’s true. I’ve seen it happen in my own life, but I’m not sure Helen is listening to God or willing to change.”

  “You won’t know unless you allow the circumstances to play out and see how she responds.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” But how would Helen react when her sinful actions came to light?

  “And didn’t you tell me your sister has developed a strong attachment to a young gamekeeper?”

  “Yes, a fellow named Owen Campbell.”

  “I’ve come to know him and his family at the church. His father told me young Campbell hopes to study veterinary science.”

  “Yes, that’s what Clara says.”

  Samuelson thought a moment more. “If Owen’s feelings for Clara are sincere, I doubt he would be put off by the investigation. And if he is, then it will prove his feelings for Clara are not strong enough for marriage.”

  “So you’re saying a police investigation might be a good way to test his character and commitment to Clara?”

  “Exactly. Does he love her enough to stand with her through troubling times? Is he willing to make a lasting commitment to her in spite of all that may happen to your family?”

  Nate grimaced. It was a shame his sister would have to suffer the consequences of her mother’s sins. But perhaps all was not lost for Clara. If she responded well to these trials, they might make her a stronger and wiser young woman.

  Samuelson looked his way, his gaze sincere and direct. “And you, my friend, are facing a similar test of your character and commitment.”

  Samuelson’s words echoed through his mind and struck truth to his heart. Nate’s steps slowed, and he gazed across the fields. Just like Owen Campbell, he faced an important decision. He might not agree with Maggie’s conclusions, but he had promised to help her search for the truth, and that commitment should outweigh everything else.

  He set his jaw, struggling against the sacrifices that would come with that choice.

  Samuelson placed his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “The question is, are you willing to keep your word to Maggie and see this through, in spite of the challenges it will present to you and your family, or will you let pride and a desire to preserve your family’s reputation destroy what God wants to do in and through you?”

  The weight of Samuelson’s challenge pressed down on him. Once he opened the door to a police investigation, there was no guarantee what would happen. Did he have the courage and humility he needed to face this test? Could he put aside his pride and trust God to bring good from exposing his family’s painful secrets to the light?

  Would he take his stand with Maggie?

  Maggie took the last dress from the suitcase and hung it on a peg on the wall of their bedroom at Mrs. Birdwell’s. She turned, glanced around the sparse chamber, and released a soft sigh. The whitewashed walls were bare except for the faded-green curtains hanging over the window. The only furniture in the room consisted of a simple nightstand and two narrow beds covered with plain gray blankets. The three of them would barely have enough room to turn around, let alone any privacy.

  What a stark contrast to their lovely, spacious room at Morningside! Maggie pushed that thought away, but it still made her heart ache. Not so much for the beautiful house, but for Nate and all she’d lost when she’d left.

  Mrs. Birdwell stood in the doorway and ran her hand over her wiry gray hair, then tucked a loose strand into her bun. “I told Reverend Samuelson there wasn’t room for that other bed, but he insisted on bringing it in.”

  Maggie blinked. Had Mrs. Birdwell expected the three of them to sleep in one narrow bed? It was a good thing Reverend Samuelson was looking out for them…or they might never get a good night’s sleep.

  Grandmother smiled, but Maggie could read the weariness in her faded-blue eyes. “I’m sure we’ll be comfortable. Thank you, Mrs. Birdwell.”

  Violet scrunched her forehead. “Where will I sleep?”

  “You’ll sleep with me.” Maggie sent her sister a meaningful look, then lifted the two empty cases off the nearest bed and turned to Mrs. Birdwell. “Where shall I put these?”

  “Can you slip them underneath?” She motioned toward the nearest bed.

  Maggie doubted they would fit, but she knelt and gave it a try. “I’m sorry—they’re too large.”

  Mrs. Birdwell glanced over her shoulder. “I suppose you can put them out back. They shouldn’t get too wet if you stack them close to the house.”

  Maggie’s stomach tensed. That would never do. “We borrowed these cases from the Harcourts. I don’t think I should leave them outside in the weather.”

  “Well, I suppose you can stack them in the corner of the kitchen, then. There’s not much room, but I’m sure you’ll be returning them shortly.”

  Maggie adjusted her grip on the handles. She had hoped to use the cases again when they moved into their renovated shop, but Mrs. Birdwell was right. They didn’t belong to her, and the sooner she returned them to Morningside, the less obligation she would feel toward the Harcourts.

  Nate’s image rose in her mind, and her heartbeat quickened. He was taking part in the negotiation meeting at the town hall today, trying to head off the strike. She didn’t know how long the meeting would last, but she planned to walk into the village and then speak to him when it was over. Surely when she told him what she’d learned about Roland Dixon, he would agree Dixon was a more likely suspect than his father. Perhaps he would even go with her to talk to the police.

  “Come with me.” Mrs. Birdwell’s summons brought Maggie back to the moment, and they followed the older woman down the hall and into the low-ceilinged kitchen. A large stone fireplace took up most of the wall on the left. Logs were piled in the grate, and flames flickered under a large cast-iron pot.

  Maggie sniffed, and the scent of ham and vegetables made her mouth water. “You’re cooking over the fire?”

  “Of course, that’s the only way to make a decent meal.” Mrs. Birdwell dipped a wooden spoon into the pot and stirred the thick, bubbling mixture.

  At their millinery shop, Grandmother and Maggie had used a s
imple coal stove and oven to prepare their meals.

  Grandmother stepped up beside Mrs. Birdwell and looked into the pot. “We cooked over a fire when I was a girl growing up on the farm. I’d enjoy trying my hand at it again.”

  Mrs. Birdwell pulled out the spoon and sent Grandmother a surprised glance. “I don’t expect you to do the cooking.”

  “We’d be glad to help. Wouldn’t we, girls?” Grandmother looked at Maggie and Violet.

  Maggie gave a reluctant nod, though she had never prepared food over an open fire. She supposed her grandmother and Mrs. Birdwell could teach her what she needed to know.

  Mrs. Birdwell pointed to the corner of the kitchen. “You can stack those cases over there. Just push the crates aside and move the broom.” She turned back to the fireplace and sniffed the steam rising from the pot. “I made split pea soup for us.”

  Violet grimaced, and Maggie sent her a warning look before she deposited the cases in the corner.

  Soon the table was set and they settled in to eat the midday meal. The soup was bland but filling. Maggie sipped another spoonful and reminded herself to be grateful. They had food to eat and a roof over their heads, and they would be close to their shop, church, and friends in the village…but they were far from Morningside.

  Maggie ate the rest of her meal in silence, her thoughts focused on sifting through the information she had collected and planning what she would say to Nate. Grandmother kept the conversation going by asking Mrs. Birdwell about her family and garden.

  Violet barely touched her soup, but she ate two slices of bread, each spread with a thick layer of butter. She would’ve taken a third slice if Maggie hadn’t reached out and stopped her.

  “It’s all right.” Mrs. Birdwell offered Violet the first smile Maggie had seen since they’d arrived. “She’s a growing girl.”

  “Eat your soup, Violet,” Grandmother added. “Then we’ll see if you have room for another slice of bread.”

  Violet sighed, dipped her spoon in the bowl, and swirled it through the thick green soup.

  Maggie glanced at the small clock on the shelf by the fireplace and saw it was almost one. If she didn’t leave soon, she might miss her chance to speak to Nate before he returned to Morningside.

  “Thank you for lunch.” She pushed back from the table. “I’m going to walk into the village, check on the progress at the shop, and take care of a few other errands.”

  Grandmother laid her napkin on the table. “I’d go with you, but I’m afraid my knees are aching today.”

  “May I go?” Violet looked from Grandmother to Maggie.

  “I’m sorry, Violet, not today.” Maggie reached for her bowl and plate and carried them to the sink.

  “Why can’t I go with you?” Violet stuck out her lower lip.

  “It’s too far to go on your crutches.”

  “I could do it. I’m strong.”

  “Yes, you are, but I think it’s best if you stay here with Grandmother and Mrs. Birdwell today.”

  Violet crossed her arms. “Why do I have to miss out on all the fun?”

  “I’m sure you can find something useful to do here this afternoon.”

  Grandmother scooted her chair back. “Yes, you can start by helping me with these dishes.”

  Violet’s eyes widened, and her gaze darted from Grandmother to Maggie. “Me?”

  “Yes, you.” Grandmother patted Violet’s cheek, and Maggie nodded.

  Before their stay at Morningside Manor, Violet had helped them every day. Even after she broke her leg, she dried the dishes or folded clothes they brought in from the line. It was time she returned to those good habits.

  Maggie gathered her hat and gloves from the bedroom and set off. She crossed the millstream bridge and ten minutes later reached the outskirts of the village. The street seemed practically deserted as she passed the Red Lion Inn and the village hospital. She continued on toward the shop, where she planned to make a quick stop to keep her word about checking on the progress before she walked on to the town hall in search of Nate.

  As she rounded the corner and neared the shop, she heard Mr. Ledbetter call out, “Bring that wood over here.” He motioned to two men unloading a stack of lumber from a wagon.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Ledbetter,” Maggie called.

  He touched his cap and nodded to her. “Good day, miss.”

  “How is the work on the shop coming along?” Maggie glanced up at the front wall, pleased to see the stone had been repaired and the wall restored to its original height.

  “Very well. The weather’s been fine, and that’s helped us move ahead at a good pace.” He motioned toward the open doorway. “Come in and let me show you what we’ve done.”

  Maggie followed him through the doorway and into the shop. All the burned debris had been hauled away, and now lumber and building supplies were stacked on the floor. Two men stood on ladders, repairing the stonework on the side wall, while another man sawed through a piece of wood set across two sawhorses.

  “We finished the exterior stonework on the front wall yesterday, and we’re framing the windows today.” He pointed to a man who knelt on the ground, hammering a window frame together. Then he pointed to the left. “The side wall will be done in another day or two, then we can start on the interior walls and rebuild the stairway so we can work on the second floor.”

  Maggie smiled and nodded. “It looks like you’re making good progress.”

  He tipped his head, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he returned her smile. “I said we’d do our best for you, miss.”

  “Thank you. I’m pleased.” She glanced toward the street, eager to be on her way, then looked back at Mr. Ledbetter. “I plan to stop by every few days, but I wanted you to know we’re staying with Mrs. Birdwell, by the old mill, in case you needed to get in touch with us.”

  “Very good, miss. I’ll send word if we have any questions.” He bid her good day, then turned back to his work.

  Maggie stepped around the stacks of lumber and made her way toward the door. As soon as she stepped outside, someone called her name, and she turned to see who it was.

  Joseph Neatherton lifted his hand and jogged toward her from the neighboring shop. “Hello, Maggie.” He brushed his blond hair from his eyes and sent her a broad smile.

  “Hello, Joseph.” She looked down the street, hoping the delay would not make her miss Nate.

  “It’s good to see you.” His overeager expression pricked her conscience. She needed to have a talk with him and be clear about her feelings, but now was not the time.

  He looked past her shoulder. “How’s the work going on your shop?”

  “Very well.”

  “Come and see what we’ve done.” He motioned toward his shop.

  “I’m sorry, Joseph. I need to be on my way.” She turned and took a step.

  He reached for her arm. “Maggie, wait. Why are you in such a rush? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” His face colored. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have time to talk right now. I have to go to the town hall.” She slipped her arm away.

  “Whoa, that’s not a good idea.” He stepped into her path.

  She frowned at him. “Why not? What’s the matter?”

  He lifted his thumb and motioned toward the village green. “We drove by a few minutes ago, and there’s a huge crowd of men from Clifton waiting for the strike meeting to let out. It’s not safe to go there today.”

  “But I have to catch Nate before he leaves.”

  Joseph’s eyebrows dipped, and a shadow crossed his face. “Why not just speak to him when you go back to Morningside?”

  “We’re not staying at Morningside any longer.”

  Surprise rippled across his face. “You’re not?”

  “No, we’re staying with Mrs. Birdwell.”

  “The old widow by the mill?”

  Maggie nodded. “Now I really must go. It’s important that I speak to Nate as soon as he
leaves that meeting.” She stepped around Joseph and started down the street

  “Then I’ll go with you.” He fell into step beside her.

  Maggie blew out a frustrated breath. “If you must.”

  With his long legs, he had no trouble keeping up with her quick pace. “I’m glad you’re staying with Mrs. Birdwell. We pass there every day on our way to my uncle’s farm. Maybe I could stop on Sunday and give you and your grandmother and sister a ride to church.”

  Maggie was so intent on her goal she hardly heard what he was saying.

  They rounded the corner and stopped at the edge of the village green. She scanned the large crowd of roughly dressed men, and her stomach clenched. It was hard to estimate the number of men filling the open area in front of the town hall, but she guessed there were at least three hundred. Some stood alone, but most were gathered in small groups, smoking and talking in low voices.

  A few women and children stood at the back of the crowd, lined up by the shops facing the square. Anxious expressions lined the women’s faces, and they clutched the hands of their children, keeping them close. Mistrust and hostility hardened the men’s expressions, and restless energy emanated from the shuffling crowd.

  Joseph stepped closer. “You see what I mean? This is no place for you to wait for Nate Harcourt.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” But a ripple of unease slid down her back. She looked around, searching for Nate’s motorcar, but she didn’t see it. He had probably parked it in that secluded spot behind the church to avoid the crowd after the meeting. Would he leave by the back door rather than the front for the same reason? That thought shook her from her daze, and she stepped away from Joseph and started around the edge of the square.

  Joseph hustled after her. “Maggie, wait! Where are you going?” His loud voice caused several people to turn and look their way.

  She shot him a heated glance. “If you’re coming with me, keep your voice down.”

  He scrunched his shoulders and looked around, then hustled up beside her. “Why do we have to keep quiet?”

  “Shh! I don’t want to attract attention.”