by Laura Abbot
Bess leaned around Ezra and whispered, “Alf didn’t put up a fuss?”
“Not after Mattie arrived. They’re inseparable.”
When Pastor Dooley walked down the aisle, smiling and nodding at his flock, a hush fell over the crowd. Arriving at the platform, he turned, spread his arms in welcome, and said, “Blessed are we who gather here this evening to open our hearts to the Spirit. May those who grieve be comforted, may those who are troubled find peace, and may any who doubt find faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Rose couldn’t help thinking of Seth, who clung to faith even amid his deep and persistent questions. She turned her head slightly and scanned the crowd. She had thought he would be here, along with Sophie and Andrew. Although she was thus momentarily disconcerted, Brother Orbison’s thundering voice returned her to the moment.
A large man with mutton-chop whiskers and a head of thick silver hair, the preacher had a stately presence, yet a gentle facial expression. He and Pastor Dooley invited everyone to pray the Lord’s Prayer. Hardly had she murmured her Amen than Rose became aware of a stir at the back of the tent. Once again risking a glance, she saw that Seth, his father and sister had entered and taken seats in the last row. From then on, she was aware she was filtering Brother Orbison’s message through Seth’s possible reaction.
“Brothers and sisters, God did not promise us a life of ease. Consider Job. God did not give us a world free of temptation. Remember Bathsheba.” Brother Orbison rattled on, moderating his volume for effect and gesticulating when emphasizing a point, but Rose was lost in her own thoughts. Was it a sin to crave a child’s love? To find her identity in the act of mothering Alf? To believe the boy was, in all ways, a gift from God?
Then with a collective intake of breath, the assemblage waited for the emotional conclusion. “But in all things and above all things, God is love. Brethren, we are to love one another. God is not the instrument of our pain, but of our comfort.” Finally Rose relaxed, buoyed by the preacher’s hopeful words. “It is He who forgives our sins and offers us redemption. It is He who bids us to love our neighbors even as we love ourselves. Whatever your burdens, give them to the Lord. Whatever your blessings, praise the Lord. And in every moment love your Lord even as He loves you, His beloved children. Amen.”
A hush fell over the gathering, finally broken by scattered coughs and nervous foot shufflings. Then Pastor Dooley rose to announce the next afternoon’s preaching to be followed by baptisms in the river and the concluding meal. In the darkness, folks left in family groups, heading for their overnight lodging. Bess whispered good-night and left, while Ezra and Rose walked toward the children’s tent. “Daughter, what did you make of Brother Orbison’s remarks?”
“I liked that he acknowledged we live with pain and uncertainty.”
“Redeemed by love,” her father said quietly. “If I didn’t believe that, I could not have borne what I saw in the war or the loss of your dear mother.”
Rose considered his words. She had never before reflected on the faith that had sustained him through such horrors and grief. It was a sobering and a welcome thought. She, too, would try to lean on her faith and pass it on to Alf.
“There she is.” The hissed comment caused Rose to look to the side where Bertha and Chauncey Britten were strolling just ahead of them. Bertha continued, her words fading as she and her husband pulled farther ahead. “I wonder what Brother Orbison would make of that boy’s situation with Rose Kellogg.”
Rose tried to make allowances for Bertha’s childlessness and her resulting unhappiness, but the woman’s judgment hurt and had nothing to do with Brother Orbison’s message of God’s love.
Just then she felt a hand take her arm. “May I?” Seth had come alongside her. She nodded, and he joined them.
“What did you think of our preacher?” Ezra asked.
Rose’s heart pounded in anticipation. Had Brother Orbison’s words had any effect on Seth?
“He presented his message well.”
Rose looked up at him. That was all he had to say? “And the message?” she prompted.
He walked slowly; his attention seemingly focused on what lay ahead. “Bears thinking about,” he finally said.
When they reached the children’s area, blankets had been spread on the grass and several of the younger ones were fast asleep, including Mattie and Alf. “Let me,” Seth said, gathering Alf into his arms.
Ezra nodded. “I’ll go on and tend to the animals if you’ll accompany Rose and our boy home.”
“Gladly.”
As they retraced their steps heading for the Kellogg home, they passed Caleb, Lily, and Lavinia on their way to fetch Mattie. It was to Seth that Lavinia spoke. “Mind what I warned you about.”
Seth studied the ground. “Yes, ma’am.”
Rose was puzzled. A clear message had passed between the two. To deflect the awkwardness, she said, “What did you think of the camp meeting, Aunt Lavinia?”
“It was...different. A bit theatrical for my taste. A sound message, though.”
Caleb winked as he put an arm around Lavinia. “I think it’s safe to say, she won’t be wading into the river tomorrow.”
Rose noticed Lavinia attempting to conceal a smile. “Thank you very much, Caleb, but I have already been baptized, so you will not see this old lady creeping down a riverbank, although I pray blessings on all who do.”
Seth chuckled as he steered Rose away from the group. “Could your aunt be developing a sense of humor? Caleb seems to bring out the best in her.”
“You and she seem to have a connection, as well.”
Alf stirred, and Caleb shifted him to his shoulder. “You probably heard I took Mrs. Dupree on a tour of the countryside. She was most interested in learning about her surroundings. She is quite perceptive.”
Curiosity overcame discretion. Rose had to ask. “What did she warn you about?”
Seth didn’t speak. Had he even heard her question? Rose, however, understood Seth’s silences needed to be honored. So they walked on. Only on Rose’s front porch several minutes later when he handed Alf to her did Seth reply. “Brother Orbison preached about love. Your aunt warned me of it.” Then he wheeled around and disappeared into the night, leaving her with more questions than answers.
* * *
Sweat poured into Seth’s eyes and his back ached, but still he wielded the pickax, determined to loosen the outcroppings of limestone. Sophie wanted to enlarge the garden, and the rocks had to go. The demanding physical labor was preferable to another trip to town to listen to Orbison’s second day of preaching, endure Lavinia Dupree’s scrutiny and evade the questions in Rose’s trusting blue eyes. With each fissure in the soil, he felt an easing of the tension that had held him captive throughout the night. With her one comment, Lavinia had cast a pall over his time with Alf and Rose.
He didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful. How was his relationship with Rose any of her business? The pick struck flint again and a spark glinted. What relationship? He couldn’t even define it himself, more’s the pity. But hurt her? Hurt Alf? He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. At least so long as he kept everything simple. So long as he didn’t permit his fantasies of a family to alter his conduct.
“Seth, what are you doing, fella?” Deep in his thoughts, Seth had not noticed Caleb and Lily approaching in their wagon. He remembered then that Sophie was riding with them into town, since he and his father had opted to stay home.
With a sigh, he dropped the pickax, wiped his shirtsleeve across his brow and walked toward them. “Clearing land for the garden.”
Lily eyed him intently and then said, “What about the camp meeting? Aren’t you going?”
“Nope. Last night was enough.”
Caleb quirked his mouth into a smile. “Preacher too much for you?”
“I’ve heard
worse. His message was tolerable.”
“Tolerable?” Lily snorted. “Since when is God’s love merely ‘tolerable’?”
“I’ve got no quarrel with God’s love. It’s His punishment I question.”
Frowning, Caleb studied his hands, clasped between his knees, and Seth knew he, too, was remembering their mother’s death.
“Seth, bad things happen,” Lily murmured. “It’s part of being human.”
Seth grimaced. Lily sounded just like her sister. Yet he knew in his heart that God was in this fertile, beautiful land and that He worked in people’s lives for good. Take Alf, for instance. It couldn’t be mere coincidence that led someone to leave the boy with a woman as kindhearted as Rose. It was just hard for him to balance the blessings with his questions. “I guess there’s no getting around the human part,” he said by way of answering Lily.
Before he could go on, Sophie bounded out of the house, holding her bonnet by its ribbons. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she called to Caleb.
“No problem. We were jawing with Seth the infidel, here. Hop on in.”
Sophie stood on tiptoe to give Seth a kiss, and whispered in his ear, “Infidel? I don’t think so. You’re as pure as they come.” Then she took Caleb’s hand and pulled herself into the wagon.
“We’ll miss you,” Lily called as the wagon started down the road.
Seth watched them depart, aware of the sudden silence, broken only by the squawk of a nearby crow and the breeze sighing through the prairie grass. It had been his decision not to go with them. So how was he to account for the loneliness sweeping over him? As if he was not where he was supposed to be or doing what this day demanded of him. Was God love? He hoped so, because he could surely use a good dose about now. Then before he could stop himself, he looked skyward and mumbled, “Whoever it is I’m supposed to be, Lord, help me.”
He stood rooted to the spot, hoping that like the hard Flint Hills limestone, his heart would crack open to God’s purpose.
After sharing the bread, cheese and meat Sophie had left them for the midday meal, Seth and his father sat at the kitchen table poring over the ranch accounts. Seth found it difficult to concentrate on the ledger book before him. So much of the success of the cattle operation would depend on the fall market prices, but that uncertainty was part of being a rancher and didn’t explain his agitation. Finally his father looked up and said, “You’ve got something on your mind, and it isn’t the herd.”
Seth pushed back from the table. “It’s the heat.”
“If breaking stone apart didn’t fix you, accounts aren’t going to. Not today. Take Patches and skedaddle and leave me to concentrate.”
Maybe a good gallop was what he needed. “I don’t want to let you down.”
His father’s eyes were kindly. “Son, you have never, ever done that. Go on, now. Get out of here.”
Seth stopped at the well and poured a ladleful of cool water over his head, then clamped on his straw hat and headed for the barn. It was only later as he felt Patches moving rhythmically beneath him and the wind brushing his cheeks that his tension eased. Watching the land sweeping away beneath Patches’s flying hooves and breathing in the air rich with the earthy scent of mown hay, Seth acknowledged the grace that had led his family to this place.
On top of a flat hill, he reined in his horse and paused to study the scene before him. In the distance, he could see the nearly finished cupola of the courthouse and the white steeple of the church. Most of his neighbors were still in Cottonwood Falls for the conclusion of the camp meeting. Pulling his watch out of his pocket, he reckoned the baptisms were nearly over and the ladies would be laying out the victuals. They might find God in Brother Orbison, but he found Him right here in the open, the Creator’s hand evident in each blade of grass, rocky ledge and soaring hawk.
Turning back, he set Patches to a leisurely trot. The closer they came to the ranch house, the more unsettled Seth once again became. Something wasn’t right, and he was supposed to fix it. Where that idea had come from he couldn’t say, but the urgency of the message vanquished his peace of mind. Was it because his family hadn’t yet returned from town? As if reading the tension of his rider, Patches wheeled and began cantering toward Cottonwood Falls. In his heart, Seth knew he was supposed to be there, but that certainty arose from an inexplicable fear rather than rational sense.
Seth spurred Patches to a gallop, his mind echoing the prayer his lips couldn’t form. Please, God, let everything be all right.
* * *
Rose and Lily sat near the riverbank under a shady elm as the strains of “Shall We Gather at the River?” filled the air. Aunt Lavinia had chosen to remain at home. As she put it, “I shall observe the Sabbath with my prayer book.” Pastor Dooley and Brother Orbison led those who wished to be baptized, now robed in white, to the river’s edge. Then, as the singing continued, the two preachers dunked the newly converted and shouted out the words of initiation. “Amens” and “Hallelujahs” provided a counterpoint to the singing. Caleb and the sheriff, along with some other men, turned away from the river following the baptisms and formed a circle near the horses, talking and swapping stories.
Rose fanned herself, loath to leave the comfort of their shady spot to begin setting out the food. Alf and Mattie had joined a group of children playing in the school yard under the supervision of several of the older church ladies. “It’s been a good meeting.”
“I agree. Eight new souls brought to Christ.” Lily yawned, and then stood up. “I swear I’ll fall asleep if I don’t move.”
Reluctantly, Rose got to her feet. “It’s been a joy, us all being together this weekend.”
“As much as I love Caleb, this place would have been far bleaker had not you and Papa moved here.” Then she leaned forward as if confiding a secret. “I think it’s been a good move for Papa. Look.” She tilted her head slightly in the direction of a small grove of trees.
Rose followed her sister’s gaze and gasped at what she saw—her father standing quite close to Bess Stanton, holding her hands in his and saying something in what could only be described as an earnest and intimate fashion. “Lily!”
“I know.” Lily giggled. “I’ve had my suspicions, but I do believe dear Bess is becoming very important to our father.”
Rose pondered sister’s remark. “They seem to work well together, but I thought that was all.”
“You’re too close to the situation. You see them every day, I, only on weekends.” Lily took hold of Rose’s shoulders. “Would you mind so very much?”
“Mind?” Rose wanted only good things for her father and for Bess, yet she had never considered a possible romantic connection. Was it selfish to wonder how that kind of relationship would affect Alf and her? “Honestly?” She hesitated, then plunged on. “I desire their happiness.”
Lily took Rose’s hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Come, let’s make our way to the church grounds to help with the supper.”
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of conversation, food and the conclusion of the camp meeting—one of the few occasions where the entire county came together for fellowship. Periodically, Rose glanced toward the school grounds where the youngsters were playing tag. Remembering Alf’s shyness when he had first come, she watched him now with pride and misty eyes—he was an outgoing, animated little chap, frolicking with the other children, with Mattie always following close behind. This time last summer Rose had been longing for a child, remote as that possibility seemed. And now...there was Alf, climbing aboard the seesaw. How richly he had blessed and changed her life.
She turned back to covering her leftover food and stowing it in the picnic basket. All around her, people were gathering their children and exchanging farewells. In the distance she saw Caleb tearing his sister away from a besotted Charlie Devane. Lily came up beside Rose with a sleepy Mattie holding
her mother’s hand. “Where’s Alf? Have you picked him up?” her sister asked
Mattie rubbed her tired eyes. “Brudder, he gone wif a lady.”
Rose’s heart lurched. To reassure herself, she again looked toward the school yard—now empty. In the moment it took her to register the sight, she picked up her skirts and started running toward the school, knocking people aside, her attention riveted on the seesaw where she had last seen her boy. She stopped only when she came to the school ground, now eerily vacant. “Alf! Alf! Where are you?” she screamed. Her question reverberated off into the void. She searched the grounds in vain, then sprinted toward one of the women charged with tending the children. “Where’s my boy?”
“Alf?” The woman looked dazed. “Why, isn’t he with you?”
“With me? You were to watch him until I called for him.” Panic surged in Rose. What lady had Mattie meant?
“I’m sorry, Miss Kellogg, but I thought you had come for him. When I left, there were no children remaining at the playground.”
By now, Caleb, Lily, Mattie and Sophie had converged on her. Rose gripped Mattie by the shoulders. “What lady did you see, Mattie?”
The child buried her face in Lily’s skirts. “Nobody.”
Caleb supported Rose by the elbow, but she shook him off. “Alf’s lost. We’ve got to find him.” And on trembling legs, she began running about the area, shouting her son’s name. Others joined the search and “Alf” resounded through the community. Some of the men ran toward the river. Rose couldn’t let her mind follow them. Please, God, no! And yet, had the little tyke seen the white-robed figures entering the water in a kind of celebration?
It was not until her father appeared that Rose sank to the ground in despair, her chest heaving. “Oh, Papa, what has happened?”
Bess appeared then, wiping Rose’s tears. “The sheriff has organized a search party, Rose. There’s no more for you to do here. Let us take you home.”
When the word home registered in her brain, Rose seized on a shred of hope. “Home. He must be there.” She stood and started running the short distance toward the house, followed by Bess and Ezra. She tore open the back door and raced through the rooms shrieking Alf’s name again and again. Silence was the only response.