by Janet Dean
Grace moved to her side. Soon all the women surrounded her.
Jake met the sheriff’s eyes. “I’ll pay the rest.”
The sheriff nodded at Jake, his face clearing. “Case closed. You’re both free to go. Smith, with my apology.”
A surge of joy shot through Jake. Thank You, God.
Callie smiled. “God did take care of it.”
Jake wanted to tell Callie he loved her. But he couldn’t until he’d told her about his newfound faith. He’d taken a long time to see that when a man didn’t walk with God, he wasn’t much of a man. At least not the kind of man God intended.
And he understood why. Faith gave believers more than a clean slate. It also gave them strength, wisdom, purpose.
His new purpose would be a legacy to his mother. Even if the only part Callie allowed him to play in helping unwed mothers was signing over his mother’s house.
Pastor Steele appeared at the door.
Callie gasped. “Oh, goodness, with everything that’s happened, I forgot all about our meeting this morning.”
“You folks feel free to come, too,” Pastor Steele said. “We’ll be talking about ways to help Refuge of Redeeming Love.”
As Jake strode beside Callie on the way to the church, others questioned where they were headed, then joined the group until a crowd had formed. His imprisonment and the confession of the hungry newcomer swept through the throng. Some exchanged puzzled glances, more expressed doubts, a few grumbled about the riffraff invading the town. Obviously, everyone had an opinion and wanted their say. This was turning into a three-ring circus with Pastor Steele as the ringmaster.
Before they reached the church, Jake wanted Callie to know what had transpired in that cell last night. “I need to talk to you.” He pulled her to the side, under the canopy of maples.
Off to their right, a family of ducks climbed out of the brook running alongside the town. Bringing up the rear, the last duckling struggled to keep up. So like Jake, the last one to find his way. “Callie, you may have already guessed from what I said at the jail, but I wanted to tell you straight out. I’ve found God.”
A smile bloomed on her face. “Oh, Jacob. I thought you looked different. Happier than I’d ever seen you.”
Dare he hope she cared? That the mixup over the house hadn’t ruined his chance with her? Or was she just overjoyed that he’d found God, as she would for any nonbeliever?
“I’ve been reading the Bible, the prophecy, the promises fulfilled in the baby and sealed on the cross. But it all had seemed…illogical. Last night, in that cell, I had nowhere to turn. Callie…God showed up.” He swallowed, fought for control. “I wasn’t alone in that cell. I heard His voice. Not an audible voice but unmistakable, as clear as if He stood beside me.”
Tears spilled down Callie’s cheeks. She took his hands in hers, hanging on as if her life depended on it. Or knew his did.
“I put control of my life in God’s hands.” He grinned, wanted to shout from the rooftops. “And look, I’m free. Free from jail. Free from my past. Free from my sins.”
God had answered Callie’s prayers. She threw her arm around Jacob’s waist and gave him a hug. “I’m so happy I could burst!”
“No more than I. I don’t understand why the existence of God could seem irrational one minute and reasonable the next, but that’s what happened.”
“You opened your hardened heart, Jacob. That made all the difference.”
“I credit you for the example of your life. For caring about where I spent eternity. I can never thank you enough.”
Smiling, he took her hand and together they walked the short distance to the church and joined the others gathered out front. Pastor Steele stood on the steps, about to go in.
Across the way the family of ducks she and Jacob had seen earlier marched across the road, the hen in the lead, the babies in a straight line behind her, the drake bringing up the rear. But one duckling meandered alone, searching for something in the grass.
“Let’s wait,” Pastor Steele said, then stepped into the street and slowed traffic. “Make sure the ducks make it to the other side.”
A buggy and wagon slowed for the parade of ducks, as the mother duckling led her babies across. The last duckling remained on the other side. The mother halted in the middle of the road and waited as the drake turned back and rounded up the duckling, shepherding it back in line. Once he waddled to the end, the mother moved ahead.
Pastor Steele’s gaze swept the crowd. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but those ducks are a lesson to me. They know by instinct what we need to learn—each one in God’s family is important. We need to make sure none are lost. And when they wander, or lose their way, as that duckling did, we’re to urge them to return and welcome them in to the family.”
The parade of ducks ended at a patch of ground on the side of the church. They spread out, foraging for food as traffic resumed on the street. Though Pastor Steele didn’t mention the unwed mothers, for Callie his meaning was clear. Folks remained motionless, staring at those ducklings milling around on the carpet of grass.
“Looks like they enjoy a fellowship dinner as much as I do,” Pastor Steele said with a grin.
“Pastor, what if that duckling was rebelling? Left his family on purpose?” someone called from the back.
“We don’t know why that duckling fell behind. Perhaps he was slower. Perhaps he was rebellious. Or maybe only distracted, but the mother duck’s decision to wait wasn’t based on the duckling’s behavior. Her decision was based on love, wanting none of her family to be lost.”
No one said anything for a moment, not even the naysayer. But within minutes, people started coming up to Callie, offering to help.
Hal removed his hat and put in the first dollars. “Reckon you could use some money to make a go of the place, Callie.” Loretta joined her husband and they passed the hat through the crowd until it all but overflowed with money.
Off to the side, Commodore stared at those ducks. How long had he been standing there? He moved toward the church steps with slow, measured steps.
Hal stopped his progress. “Commodore, Jake didn’t take the money. Here’s what was missing.” He pulled the bills from his pocket and handed them to Commodore.
Like it burned his fingers, Commodore dropped the money in the hat. “These young women need it way more than I do.”
Her mouth gaping, Callie whirled toward Jacob. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been speechless.
Commodore stepped past the sheriff and stopped in front of his wife. “A man can live his life with regrets. Regrets that eat him up inside. It’s rare when that man gets a chance to make things right.”
What was this about? The wobble in Commodore’s voice alarmed Callie.
“But I have that chance today. At least, I hope I do.” He took his wife’s hand. “Long before I knew you, Dorothy, I fell in love with a young woman. And she fell in love with me. I hope it doesn’t hurt you to hear that.”
Dorothy never took her eyes off her husband. “No, that was a long time ago.”
“The girl’s father refused to let us marry. He said I wasn’t good enough for his daughter.” His eyes turned soft. “She saw it differently.” He gave a sad smile. “I’m not sure what she saw in me. But she’d be disappointed in the man I’ve become. I’ve not been a good husband to you. I apologize for that.”
Tears welled in Dorothy’s eyes but she didn’t speak. Or couldn’t.
“This young girl and I… We, ah, well. We got in a family way. Her name was Irene Squier.”
Commodore’s words, words Jake could barely comprehend, bombarded his brain, turning it to mush. He tightened his grip on Callie’s hand. She leaned into him, holding him steady.
Around him, people gasped and whispered.
Commodore looked at his wife, then swept his gaze over the bystanders. “Jake’s name isn’t Smith. His real name’s Jacob Mitchell.”
Dorothy grabbed her husband’
s arm. “Jake’s your son?”
Commodore nodded then turned to Jake. “You resented my attitude toward that house of Callie’s. It’s a constant reminder of heartache. Losing Martin. Failing Irene. Failing our boy all these years.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I’m ashamed of my spinelessness.”
Dorothy wept openly. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve talked about it. Worked it out.”
“Guess that would be fear. Fear you’d hate me for what I’d done. I’m sorry. So sorry about all of it.”
Jake fought the resentment flaring up inside him. This man who had hounded him from the first moment he’d arrived in town, was his father? “You’ve known who I was all this time?”
“I had no idea who you were—until I found those postcards in the lean-to.” Commodore shook his head. “They weren’t from your mother, Jake.”
Jake closed his eyes and prayed for strength as an image of a petite young woman with dark hair filled his mind.
“I’m sorry, so very sorry about…your mom, about everything. I—” Commodore looked away, as if unable to meet Jake’s gaze. “I wrote and mailed those postcards, signed them ‘Your mother.’” He scrubbed a hand over his brimming eyes. “I thought that’s what she’d want me to do.”
Jake snorted. Why not admit that he’d sent them to ease his guilt?
Sheriff Frederick handed Callie his money-filled hat. “If you sent those postcards, Commodore, why didn’t you recognize Jake’s name?”
Wasn’t that just like a lawman, always investigating? “He sent those postcards to Jacob, in care of the orphanage. No last name,” Jake ground out.
“But surely other boys named Jacob resided in that home.”
Jake sighed. “Not with that same birthdate.”
Her eyes laden with sympathy, Loretta put an arm around him and Callie. “I knew your mother, Jake, and I see her in you. She’d be proud of the man you are.”
Those simple words brought Jake comfort. “I’d like to talk to you about her.”
“I’d like that, too.”
Loretta faced Callie. “I’m sorry. Sorry for fighting the unwed mothers’ home when underneath I knew what you wanted to do was right.” She sighed. “I let fear control me. Well, no more. I’ve got some talking to do to Tillie Sunderland, too. It’s time to heal wounds, to start anew.” She lifted a hand. “I hope you will forgive me.”
Tears flooding her eyes, Callie drew Loretta into a hug. “Of course I forgive you. Thank you.”
Smiling, Loretta headed off, no doubt in search of Mrs. Sunderland.
On shaky legs, Commodore moved closer. He appeared to have aged overnight. “Irene loved you, Jake. The minute she knew…she wanted you. We planned to get married.” Tears filled his eyes. “But her father moved her out of town the night we told them about the baby. I didn’t know where they took her.”
“That’s terrible,” someone said.
And it was. Jake looked at Elise, surrounded by her parents, holding little Katie Marie, then on to Grace and Joanna, all of them with tears running down their faces.
A couple of women came up and gathered Joanna and Grace in their arms. Jake’s heart stuttered in his chest. One of those ladies was Mrs. Sunderland. Maybe something good had come from this after all.
Commodore grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Dorothy, then tucked her in his arms. “In early May, I got a letter from Irene, telling me she loved me. How much she loved our baby, who was soon to be born. She promised that once she turned eighteen, we’d be together.
“I held on to that. I’d make something of myself, show her father I wasn’t some riffraff from the wrong side of the tracks.” His voice broke. “A few weeks later, I got another letter, this one from the senator. Irene died in childbirth, he said. He’d put the baby, a boy she’d planned to name Jacob, in an orphanage. He told me where I could find him if I wanted to claim the baby”
Like a knife wound to his gut, it stabbed at Jake that his mother’s parents hadn’t wanted him, most likely blamed him for their daughter’s death. Now they were gone, too.
His face contorted with emotion, Commodore turned to Jake. “I went to that orphanage. Saw you lying in that bed, so tiny and helpless. You frightened me. I didn’t have money, any means of caring for you. So I walked away.” He sobbed. “By the time I opened the store and had the means to care for a child, I’d met Dorothy.” He turned to face his wife. “I wasn’t sure how the scandal would impact our marriage. I couldn’t bear to lose another woman I loved…so I went on denying my son’s existence.” A sob. “I’ve wondered if Martin’s fall from the roof of that house was my punishment for not claiming my firstborn.”
Pastor Steele shook his head. “God wouldn’t kill your son to punish you.”
Dorothy put her arm around Commodore. “You’ve made some big mistakes. Mistakes that have shaped our lives. At least now I understand that wall between us, a wall I could never penetrate, but I never stopped loving you.”
“I love you, dear wife.” Commodore’s face crumpled as he turned to Jake. “I know you despise me and I don’t blame you.” He turned to walk away. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
All eyes turned on Jake. He glanced at Elise. Her father, a stubborn man, had hurt her time and again. Yet, Elise had forgiven him. And because of that forgiveness, look what they had. A family.
Jake knew he should be angry, but he couldn’t find any other emotion except one. Forgiveness.
The crowd had grown silent. People stood with heads hanging, eyes downcast, several were crying.
Jake lifted a hand and stopped Commodore as he and Dorothy started to walk away, looking deep into his father’s eyes. “I forgive you.”
His expression blank, as if Jake’s words hadn’t sunk in, Commodore sputtered something garbled that Jake couldn’t make out. Then, weeping, he swayed and fell into Jake’s arms.
Something frozen, inside Jake since he was a boy of seven, softened, then melted then slipped away. He had a father. Not a perfect man, but then who was? In each other’s arms, they wept for lost time and for Irene who somehow seemed to be part of the wonder of that moment.
Dorothy patted her husband’s back. “We lost one son, but God granted you another chance with Jake.”
Swiping at his tears, Commodore straightened. “Will you stay in town, Jake, and give me time to know you?”
“I’ll stay if I can spend it with Callie.” He took her hands in his. “The house is yours. I have no intention of taking it. I know I’ve hurt you. For that I’m sorry.” Though the prospect of losing Callie slashed at his heart, he forced out the words he had to say, “I’ll move on if that’s what you want. All you have to do is say the word.”
Looking into those green eyes filled with such hope but also with dread, Callie’s eyes glistened. Why had she ever believed Jacob was capable of treachery?
The answer came, not an easy one. She’d let her marriage to Martin color her view of Jacob. Unable to bear another disappointment, unable to handle more hurt piled on the pain of her past, for surely another loss would destroy her, she’d refused to see Jacob with unbiased eyes.
She’d refused to trust the steps toward God she’d seen him take. She’d refused to trust his love, yet his actions made that love unmistakable. Her lack of trust made it easy to believe that he’d rip the home she loved from under her.
Her faith might’ve kept her strong, but she hadn’t forgiven, not really. She’d held on to her anger at Martin, at Commodore, and let that determine who she was, the actions she took, and the things she believed. Fear of failing in another marriage had kept her heart closed.
Yet Jacob, a brand-new believer, just taught her what genuine forgiveness looked like when he’d taken the man who’d denied his fatherhood and badgered Jacob at every turn into his arms and wept with him.
“Oh, Jacob, I’m sorry. I’m the one who hurt you. I didn’t trust who you were when you were exactly as you appeared—a man I can respect.”
She raised a palm to his jaw. “If you’ll forgive me, I’m ready to take a chance on love again.”
He wrapped Callie in those strong arms of his. “You’re the woman I want to be my wife.” Then he opened his arms wider to include Commodore and Dorothy—his parents—and Grace and Joanna as they stepped close and joined an ever-widening circle of love, of family. Clearly showing by his actions that he would not only love her, he’d share her mission to care for unwed mothers.
Mrs. Sunderland came forward. “If folks weren’t so fast to judge, perhaps Commodore would’ve stepped up and raised his son.” She glanced over at Pastor Steele. “I’ve learned a lesson today. A lesson I won’t forget.”
Glancing at Callie, eyes wet and apologetic, Loretta patted Mrs. Sunderland’s back. “We’ll show these young women God’s love.”
Mildred wiggled into the circle. “And to show Jake how much I respect his skills, what he’s made of himself, I want him to remodel my home, shed its years and purpose, turn it into Peaceful’s Historical Museum. I’ve got enough stuff to fill it,” she said with a laugh, then offered her hand. “I’m your first client in that business you plan to start.”
Jake took her hand. “It’s a deal. If you’ll keep us stocked in gingerbread boy cookies.”
Mildred chuckled. “I’ll save the smiles till last.”
“I don’t need any smile but Callie’s.” Jake squeezed Callie’s hand and gazed into her eyes with such intensity that the crowd faded, and all she could see was the man. A man who cherished family and commitment, a man of faith and integrity, a man she could trust.
“I’ve repaired your home, but I want more than a business arrangement with you, more than three meals a day and a roof over my head. I love you, Callie Mitchell.”
At his declaration, the lonely shell surrounding her spirit shattered, releasing her from the pain of her past. “Jacob Squier Mitchell, I love you. You’ve repaired more than my home.” Tears stung her eyes. “You’ve repaired my heart.”