Lightning and Lace

by DiAnn Mills

  “Oh, about the same. I have his time scheduled so he won’t be idle. He has a sharp mind, and I think with time we’ll make progress. What are some of his favorite pastimes?”

  “Fishing is his favorite. He liked riding with his father, and Ben had been teaching him to use a rifle and hunt. I gave him his father’s Springfield, one from the War Between the States. But it has a nasty recoil.”

  He nodded. “Good. I want to reward him with those things.”

  “Has he asked about us?”

  “No. Right now he’s getting used to me. I think once we’re moved tomorrow, we’ll make more progress.”

  “He is so angry with me.”

  Brother Travis shook his head. “I don’t think he’s angry with you. I believe his bad feelings are aimed toward himself.” He paused. “Is there any reason why Zack would blame himself for his father’s passing?”

  How horrible. “Absolutely not. Ben had a lung ailment. There was nothing anyone could have done. Have you had experience with a situation like ours before?”

  “No. I’m simply counting on God to lead me. I want to help your son, and I won’t give up. I’ve said this before, but I believe a boy needs to be with his family.”

  His compassion caressed her heart. What a dear man. “I sincerely appreciate what you’re doing—and for the handkerchief. I’ll have it done up for you.”

  He stood, rather awkwardly. “Thank you, Mrs. Kahler. I sincerely didn’t mean to upset you. I hope you don’t expect a change in your son too soon. My guess is that it will take awhile.”

  “I understand.” The heartache over losing Ben had taken longer to conquer than she’d ever anticipated. “I’d like to apologize for the way I treated you when we first met.”

  “Well, I look more like a tramp than a man of God.” He smiled. “I’ll be leaving now.” At the door he hesitated, then slowly turned around. “Michael Paul is quite fond of music. I suggested to him that we might sing together for a service, but we need your permission.”

  A sweetness floated through her. “He loves music, and I think it’s a fine idea. I’ll let him know.”

  “He’s a fine boy, too. All of your children are good.”

  Bonnie needed to hear those words. The town’s new preacher was a true blessing. If he looked half as good as the soothing sound of his voice, then he’d be one fine-looking man. She silently questioned why he kept all of that hair. Maybe he felt kin to John the Baptist or one of the ancient prophets. Instantly, she warmed at her thoughts.

  “You are welcome anytime you choose to visit. Thomas said the roof never looked better.”

  He laughed, a cheery sound. Reminded her of peace and wisdom and children, all in one. “I’ll make sure the reverend or your mother accompanies me the next time I come. I wouldn’t want folks talking.”

  Oh, please, Lord, don’t let anyone gossip about any man and me. “A good idea. I think Zack is a very lucky boy.”

  “Let’s wait until I have any success before thanking me.”

  Once he left, she leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor. Her precious babies—all of them had suffered because of her selfishness. Tears flowed swiftly, the ones she swore would not surface. Brother Travis had saved her from the ill-mannered Lester Hillman, and she realized he’d seen her disgust with the town’s banker. Bonnie had grown afraid of the man, who professed to be a caring Christian. His threats were serious, but if she went to Morgan or Grant, Sylvia would be hurt one more time, and the woman treasured her husband. Lester had nearly destroyed her with his illicit relationship with the owner of a brothel more than two years ago. This might push her into an early grave. Many times she wondered why Sylvia had stayed with him after his adulterous affair.

  I’m being so judgmental. Lester did have some fine qualities, especially when it came to helping Sylvia at Heaven’s Gate or giving to the poor.

  “Miss Bonnie, are you all right?” Juanita’s hand touched her shoulder.

  Bonnie swiped at her cheeks and below her eyes. “I didn’t mean to do this.”

  “You loved Mr. Ben. God doesn’t expect you to forget.” She sighed. “I thought Mr. Hillman or Brother Whitworth might have done this.”

  She glanced up at Juanita. “Oh, no, not Brother Whitworth. I don’t think he knows how to be unkind.”

  “Mr. Hillman is not like his wife. Excuse me, but I think he’s evil.”

  “You’ve heard the things he’s said, haven’t you?”

  “So sorry, Miss Bonnie. I will not tell anyone.”

  So Juanita knew what Bonnie was afraid to say. Today she’d talk to Thomas about watching the house for Lester. A glass of wine tugged at her senses. It would settle her down, relax the trembling. But she neither had any nor wanted to give in to the temptation.

  Chapter 11

  On Sunday morning, Travis had much to be thankful for. He had a fine new home. His congregation had surprised him yesterday with food and other household items for a pounding, and for the first time since he’d been placed in Travis’s care, Zack had dinner. Of course he complained about Travis’s cooking—comparing it to what he’d cleaned out of horse stalls.

  “You have a choice here, Zack,” Travis had said.

  He frowned. “What’s that?”

  “You could do what you’ve done for dinner since we started keeping company.” Travis stabbed the shoe-leather pork chop. “Although, I’m having second thoughts about it too.”

  Zack frowned. “How much bread do we have?”

  “Enough for us to split it.” Travis picked up the loaf of bread given by one of the church folks. He tore it in half and gave Zack his portion. “We can split the gravy.”

  “Is this the best you can cook?”

  “You’re welcome to try anytime you like.”

  Now Travis glanced at the front pew and nearly laughed at Zack. Heavy eyelids slid almost shut. He must think that sitting on the first pew gave him the right to sleep. Not in God’s church where Travis preached. He’d already warned Zack that they’d discuss the service during lunch. His gaze took in the rest of the worshippers. Mrs. Kahler, with Michael Paul and Lydia Anne, slipped into the back pew.

  He remembered the first time he had seen the children’s mother—a little angel with a crown of pale gold. From all he’d seen in this short amount of time, she was trying to live her life for the Lord. Instantly, he chastised himself for concentrating on Bonnie Kahler instead of God. Hadn’t those kinds of thoughts gotten him into enough trouble? Except Bonnie Kahler had nothing in common with Felicia except that both women needed help putting their lives in order. He smiled at the reverend and Mrs. Rainer. How wonderful to someday have a woman sitting beside him, supporting him . . . loving him when he’d made mistakes.

  “Good morning.” Travis raised his hands to signal the beginning of the service. “‘This is the day which the Lord hath made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.’ This morning I’m rejoicing because of a new home that’s filled with food, furniture, and all I need to be more than comfortable, supplied by God and all of you wonderful people.”

  “Amen,” said Jake Weathers.

  Travis nearly laughed. That old man had to be older than the town and had a voice that reminded him of rumbling thunder.

  At the close of the service, Zack disappeared. Maybe he’d seen his mother and wanted to avoid her. One of the families had invited Travis for lunch, and normally he’d have accepted. But this family didn’t know about Zack, and Travis wasn’t so sure the boy had found his manners well enough to attend a social event. Today the two of them would eat Brother Travis’s cooking. Not real appetizing, but they wouldn’t starve.

  At their new home, he found Zack sitting on the front porch. He had changed from his Sunday clothes into overalls—dirty ones. Tomorrow Travis needed to wash clothes, and Zack could he
lp.

  “You left in a big hurry.”

  Zack frowned. “I saw Mama there.”

  “She’s a member of our church, too.”

  “I thought she’d stay home.” He shrugged. “Mama doesn’t like unpleasant things. Tends to stay away. But I think she’s changing.”

  Travis sat on the step beside him. “How?”

  “Like she’s gotten religion or something.”

  Travis laughed. “Does that bother you?”

  Zack picked up a stone and tossed it toward the street. His silence was all the response Travis needed.

  “Your mama wants to get stronger. Be a good mother. She wants good things for you too.”

  The boy threw another stone.

  “She drinks.”

  Travis had to think about his answer to this one. Mrs. Kahler drank spirits?

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “I never accused you of lying.”

  “Well, she does. Every night in her room. I’ve seen the bottle on her nightstand, mostly near empty and empty. Papa used to say only a weak person drank.”

  “And you think your mama is weak? Is that why you don’t have any respect for her?”

  “She doesn’t care about us. Just herself. I bet she’s been sitting with Miss Rosie at Heaven’s Gate and not even thinking about us.”

  “You mean you, Michael Paul, and Lydia Anne?”

  “‘Course. Who else would I be talking about?”

  “Well, Zack,” he said. “I have it on good report that she took Lydia Anne with her to Heaven’s Gate, and Michael Paul was at school. I saw her yesterday, and she asked about you and asked when she could see you.”

  He stiffened. “She probably wanted to know how soon I’d be ready to leave for military school.”

  “Not at all. What she wants is her family back together.”

  “I can’t believe that. I know my mama, and she’s living in the past when my papa was alive.”

  “I see there’s nothing I can say to change your mind. God will have to show you the truth. Nobody on this earth is perfect, and we all have to forgive each other. Why don’t you think on it while I fix us something to eat? I believe you love your mama as much as she loves you.”

  All the while Travis busied himself with frying pork and potatoes, he pondered Zack’s accusation about his mother drinking. He refused to ask her about such a thing, but that wouldn’t stop him from praying about it. Sighing, he glanced out the front door for a glimpse of Zack’s head. Secrets always caused the most hurt. He should know. And getting folks to talk about what plagued them was real hard. Most folks thought their problems were no one’s business and talking about them was kin to sin.

  Suddenly an idea took form. Journals for Zack and his mother. Even if they kept their troubles to themselves and God, it might help them deal with the deep hurt. He’d check at the general store. In the meantime, he’d ask Mrs. Rainer or the reverend to accompany him one day this week to call on Mrs. Kahler. Maybe he’d borrow a couple of fishing poles. He’d lean them up against the back porch just in case Zack decided to behave for three days. After all, if the Lord could resurrect in that amount of time, Zack Kahler could find a reason to go fishing.

  Why couldn’t Bonnie Kahler be old and ugly with a voice like a raspy old man and a wart on the end of her nose? He chuckled. She’d not be too happy with his thoughts.

  In a way, God had given him a second chance on more than shepherding a church. He’d given him a chance to live again. He wanted to believe that by helping Zack, he’d make up for the mistakes he’d made in the past. Trying to convince Felicia to leave the brothel hadn’t been wrong—it was how he’d gone about it.

  *****

  On Monday morning, after he and Zack went through their new morning schedule, washed clothes, and hung them on the line, Travis set Zack to work on some arithmetic that Miss Scott had recommended. Travis set out to visit Miss Rosie at Heaven’s Gate and to the general store for the journals.

  At Heaven’s Gate, Jenny Andrews answered the door with her youngest daughter, Rachel, clinging to her skirts. She ushered him into the parlor where Miss Rosie sat propped on a sofa in the parlor and talking with the young women whom he recognized from his former visit. Mrs. Andrews had been playing a familiar hymn on the piano for them.

  “Listening to Mrs. Andrews is better than church.” He took a seat on a chair that wasn’t made for men. “I don’t have to give a sermon.”

  The women laughed, and he noted the color in Miss Rosie’s cheeks was a little pinker.

  “How are all of you this fine day?” he said. “And our Miss Rosie?”

  They all echoed how well they were doing, even Miss Rosie.

  He turned his attention to the beaten girl. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “No, sir. I’m healing fine. Soon I’ll be back working for Mrs. Hillman.”

  “Don’t rush yourself. Looks to me like there are good folks willing to take care of you.”

  “That’s what we keep telling her,” Laura, a red-haired young woman, said. “The weather is beautiful, and she can read all day long.”

  “But I need to do my part,” Rosie said. “I feel guilty with all of you doing the work.”

  “I do miss your cooking,” Laura said. “I think about it all the time I’m working for Mr. Hillman at the bank.”

  “And now I have to make my own breakfast,” Daisy, a tall young woman, said.

  Travis gazed into Rosie’s olive-skinned face and smiled. “You have wonderful friends here. Take time to heal, and I’ll stop by soon.”

  As he made his way to the general store, he talked to God about Rosie. Lord, I pray whoever did this to her leaves her alone. With the loving people around her, surely she’d be safe. And then there’s Zack . . . and his mother.

  *****

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” Zack turned the journal over in his hands. His eyes widened. “It doesn’t have any words.”

  “It’s not supposed to have any words.” Travis wanted to laugh, but Zack was serious. “It’s a journal for you to write in.”

  “You want me to write a book?”

  This time Travis swallowed his mirth. “Not at all. A journal is for personal thoughts. Things you want to say but don’t necessarily want other folks to read.”

  Zack stared down at the book. His dark hair fell over his forehead. “Secret things?”

  “Yes. Just yours. You could write down all the things you remember about your father.”

  “Why?”

  Lord, does this boy trust anyone? “Because things have happened in your life that are painful and hard, and the days ahead may not be easy. The treasured times you had with your father may one day be forgotten.”

  “I don’t want it.” He slapped the book on the table.

  “I’m not surprised, so I’ll put it in your room.”

  Zack crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t make me write a word.”

  “You’re right. I can’t.” With those words, Travis wrapped his fingers around the journal, walked to Zack’s room, and laid it on his bed. With a deep breath, he made his way outside into the cool air before he said things a good preacher never said. God must have as much for him to learn as Zack.

  Chapter 12

  Bonnie listened to Sylvia explain the Bible lesson to Rosie, Laura, and Daisy. She focused on the woman’s serene face and how her passion for the Lord came through every word. What a wonderful woman to lead these ladies in biblical ways. How could such a godly woman have such a horrible husband? She’d do anything for Sylvia. The woman deserved a special mansion in heaven for what Lester had put her through and what she’d done for others.

  Bonnie thought back over Lester’s visit. For the first time, s
he questioned if Sylvia was aware when he came calling at the Morning Star without her. Suddenly Bonnie felt dirty. She should have mentioned those times to Sylvia in case Lester had omitted telling her. Bonnie’s past dealings with him hadn’t been morally or spiritually right. All she could do now was step forward as a proper woman. Back in the beginning when Ben had first died and her life had been consumed in grief, she had thought Lester wanted only to help.

  “Paul told Timothy to take a little wine for the sake of his health,” Lester had said. “It’s a biblical statement. Something you can bank on.” He chuckled. “Seriously, I heard you tell Sylvia that you were unable to sleep. A glass of wine in the evening would help you rest. Your children need a mother who is able to perform the responsibilities of both parents.”

  And so it began.

  I’ve been very foolish. She’d been a willing party to not letting Sylvia know about his gifts of wine.

  “Sylvia disapproves of drinking except for medicinal purposes,” he’d said. “I didn’t tell her about the wine, and I suggest you keep the information to yourself.”

  Naturally, the woman would have objected, and deceiving her was wrong. Why hadn’t Bonnie used a little common sense? The thought of the implications not only churned her stomach but also needled at her conscience.

  Lester’s previous visit had come close to frightening her. Why had he become so insistent after her refusal of wine. Why so eager to find a military school for Zack? Why should he care? If he truly was living for the Lord, he wouldn’t have visited her without Sylvia or given her that first bottle of wine. A gnawing suspicion caused her to feel slightly queasy. Did Lester want her dependent upon him? Why?

  She nearly gasped. He’d been involved with the woman who’d owned the brothel. They’d had two sons together. Surely Lester wasn’t looking for another adulterous relationship. If she had gotten to the point of needing the wine on a daily basis, then she’d be beholden to Lester. He could demand whatever he wanted from her, and she’d be forced to comply. She’d come dangerously close to being in that position. How utterly disgusting. Poor Sylvia. Lester didn’t deserve his wife’s kindness. She was devoted to him, the love clearly written in her eyes.