by Dawnya Sasse
By now, Sarah and Sadie were fully onto the scheme. Mr. Calloway had also put two and two together noting that Mr. Saner was not about to give up. He wanted the building, and if he had to marry off an employee to do it, he was happy to oblige.
Truth be told, Sarah’s heart was tender from the insincere attention. She longed to be loved for who she was and not because someone was paid to win her affections. As the days passed by Sarah stopped worrying about her heart and decided to follow her Auntie's lead and “just trust Jesus.” She figured He had to have a plan if He had given Sadie the warning.
Andrew Saner sipped whiskey from a polished pewter cup. The cup had been in the Saner family for over 100 years. It wasn’t a beautiful cup, but the craftsmanship was one of a kind. It had been hand forged by Andrew’s great, great grandfather and passed down from generation to generation, engraved with the family surname. To the Saner family, this cup represented power, and the owner of the cup was respected as the patriarch of the family.
Andrew was wealthy and successful. His business in Adams was brisk. The railroad stock was up, and the tavern, newspapers, mercantile and land office increased in profit every day. So why did one young woman make all his accomplishments seem like a waste of time? Every thought, all day long was of her building. He was driven by what he could not have. No one said no to Andrew Saner, not even a spinster like Sarah Kunz.
“Spinster," was the only word Andrew could use to describe her. She was surely uninterested in matrimony since he had thrown some of the best bachelors in the Washington Valley at her without the least bit of interest. It was time to take other steps. Over the past two months, Andrew Saner had spent a pretty penny hiring single men to dine at the Kunz Eaterie in pursuit of Sarah Kunz. He had single-handedly kept that cafe going. Well, no more. It was time to stop playing games.
"Collins," bellowed Saner. "Come in here a moment."
Collins, a young man of 20, rushed through the office door. He was tall and bony with slicked black hair and a finely tailored pinstripe suit. Collins was Mr. Saner's personal secretary and as such had sold his soul to the devil. Collins had no thought of right or wrong. He did whatever Mr. Saner told him to do. Right or wrong. Today was no exception.
"What's in the building next to the Kunz Eaterie? The one where Mr. Funke had his hardware store?"
Collins thought for a moment. Mr. Funke had moved back east last month closing his business and running out on his rent. Fortunately, Mr. Saner owned the inventory and did not consider Mr. Funke's untimely departure a loss.
"Nothing, sir. That is, the hardware inventory is still on the shop floor. You said to hold out on renting the space. Do you want that changed, sir?" Collins offered a slight discreet cough as if to say; your wish is my command.
Andrew took another sip from the pewter cup, the cup of power. Yes, Andrew was about to show Miss Kunz how powerful he was.
"Yes, Collins that has changed.” He paused, letting his words sink in.
“I want you to move the hardware inventory over to the mercantile. Let them sell what's left. Then run an ad in the Kansas City Star to read as follows:
WANTED: Experienced Restauranteur For Kansas Boom Town. All Expenses Paid. Housing Provided. Split The Profit. Must Act Immediately.
Collins read back the ad then quickly turned to leave the office and begin his tasks.
Andrew smiled to himself. He had tried to be nice. He had. Now poor Miss Sarah would be introduced to the real world of business. He would teach her about tough business. Mr. Saner had worked long and hard to own this town, and he would not tolerate a simple woman like Miss Kunz telling him NO.
If he wanted "the building" he would run her out and take the building. It was simple as that. He slammed down the cup on his highly polished desk.
Mr. Calloway’s Secret
Thomas couldn’t help but notice the attention every unmarried man in Adams was showing Sarah Kunz. To be honest, it opened his eyes.
From their first meeting, Thomas saw Sarah as capable and certainly pleasant to look at. Beyond that, he’d been too busy putting out his shingle to think of anything else.
Lately, Thomas felt like he’d come out of a deep dark sleep finally seeing Sarah for who she really was. Before him was a dark haired beauty with delicate features, a hard work ethic and a never die spirit, in lace up boots. Now, every dinner was an opportunity to observe Sarah and her overt suitors.
Gracefully, she brushed away their daily attention and focused on serving great food. It was commendable, and Thomas couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved. If Sarah was interested in marriage, she didn’t give any indication of it, at least not to the men who filled her tables. Of course, Thomas, at 27 was not interested in marriage; he had the law. The law had become his sole focus for the last five years, and he had buried himself in its embrace. The law gave him everything he needed and promised never to break his heart. For Thomas the law was safe. The rules were written and easy to follow, unlike love.
Oh, Thomas had been in love, once. He knew the joys and hopes found in its embrace. His young heart had once been owned by Mavel, a tiny ball of red-haired fire. Thomas and Mavel had grown up together in Missouri. She was the oldest of a family of nine, and he the only surviving child of a poor farming couple. As the years passed, they learned to rely on each other for company and friendship.
At the tender age of 16, their friendship had become love. Thomas planned to marry Mavel when he came back from University at Christmas. He hadn’t had to ask her, she just knew. She knew they would always be together and that he was going to school to make a future for them.
That future, however, was not to be. The outbreak came to town in the fall of 1878. It hit every family from the richest to the poorest and everyone in between. Mavel contracted Scarlet Fever in November and was gone before Thomas could get home.
That was many years ago, but the lock on Thomas’ heart had stayed secure. He would not love again. He could not trust love again. Love had brought him sorrow and pain. The law was filled with certainty and certainty is what Mr. Calloway liked best. Still, he couldn’t help but smile each night as he left his office and passed by Miss Sarah, barefoot, singing and scrubbing the Eaterie’s floors. His heart skipped a beat. She certainly was a sight to behold.

The sign went up on a Monday.
It read:
Coming Soon.
Best Food In Washington Valley.
With the placard placed in the building next door, dinner patrons felt it their duty to inform Sarah that Mr. Saner was fixing to put her out. The sudden change in the flow of the dinner crowd was nothing short of staggering. The Eaterie went from feeding every available young man to only two or three tables at a time. The truth was plain. Andrew Saner saw this town as his and Sarah stood in his way. If she didn't sell, he would put her out of business, simple as that.
For Sarah, it was an unwelcome jolt of reality. The last few weeks had been filled with laughter and hard work. She felt confident in the progress and the reputation that the Eaterie had gained. They served quality meals, and Adams was just beginning to appreciate it.
Never in a million years did Sarah think that Mr. Saner would open a restaurant next door for the sole purpose of putting her out of business. But Sarah had a lot to learn. Faced with empty tables day after day, Sarah needed a plan and fast.
Auntie Sadie, on the other hand, was well prepared to meet the crisis head on. No, she didn't have another dream, but she walked with confidence that God himself was beside them. He would lead and guide them. She reminded Sarah that God wasn’t surprised, and He would use all things for their good if they would put their trust in Him.
That, for Sarah, was the hard part. Trust. To trust God meant laying down her will and her way. Trust meant letting go of what she could not see and could not control. Sarah believed God loved her, but she wasn’t always sure she could trust Him. Look what had happened to her parents? How could she trust a God that would ta
ke them from her? How could she trust a God who would allow her to be in this situation? Didn’t he see how hard she had worked? Didn’t he care that she would lose everything? How could loosing the Eaterie be for her good?
Sarah was just too tired to move forward. Her faith was stuck, and her heart was broken. Every night, Sarah climbed the stairs praying she would not lose Papa’s building and have to move back with her siblings. She asked for mercy. She prayed for hope.
The harder Sarah prayed, the worse the days got. Employees of the Saner companies were told not to eat at the Kunz Eaterie. In exchange, they were promised free meals at Marco’s the first week it opened.
Still, there were a few farmers, the pastor’s family, and a school teacher that often came for a piece of pie or a cup of coffee. There were some who defied the ban, but very few could afford to risk their livelihood on a chicken dinner or a lamb chop.
As the day's drug on the business dried up. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Calloway’s Law office, Sarah would have closed. Each and every day without fail, Thomas gave her a green-eyed wink and a smile. He bought food for his clients and ate as if she had the finest restaurant in the whole world. Sarah’s respect for Thomas grew.
He was a man of character, and through these months he had become her friend.
When Dreams Come Crashing Down
The icy wind blew down Commercial Street chasing every visitor home. Winter had come to Adams and with it the death of Sarah’s dream. For eight long weeks, she had stood against the changing tide. Little by little she lost her customers and her income. Today, Marco’s restaurant opened. It was the last nail in the Eaterie’s coffin.
Mr. Saner had run ads in his newspapers singing the praises of the new chef from Kansas City. Marco Listmier’s recipes were shared in each of the daily editions, and ads had counted the days till the new restaurant opened.
If you were a Saner employee, you had no choice but to eat at Marco’s. If you were the friend or family of a Saner employee, you had no choice but also to eat at Marco’s. Like a winter wind upon the prairie, the harvest was over, and the ground was cold. Nothing would grow at the Eaterie again. There was no life or hope and pray as she did, Sarah knew it was time to face the facts.
In recent weeks Thomas had spent many evenings sitting on the Eaterie steps listening to Sarah’s sorrow, exasperation, and ultimate defeat. Tonight, Auntie and Thomas would join Sarah to look at the reality she had tried to forget.
Calloway Law continued to prosper, and while Thomas would prefer to keep his business in the Kunz building, he certainly had other options. With his name firmly established in Adams Thomas could build a home and office of his own, and the thought of losing Thomas Calloway filled Sarah’s heart with despair.
In the last few weeks, she had grown very fond of Mr. Calloway, his reckless crooked grin, and those twinkling green eyes. Thomas had the ability to take any situation, no matter how bleak and find hope. She guessed that’s what made him a great lawyer. He saw the good in people and believed in them.
Of course, he was just wasting his time if he believed in Sarah since everything she touched seemed to die. Sarah and Sadie had done everything possible to save the Eaterie. Sadie had fasted and prayed and talked to Jesus in the kitchen. Sarah felt deep loss once again grip her heart. She felt cold inside and out.
Sadie had invited Mr. Calloway and Reverend Orvis to join them in their private sitting room for tonight's discussion. She knew Sarah could not bear to discuss her great loss at the round dining tables she loved so much. Prayerfully, Auntie set the upstairs table with hot tea and ginger biscuits to keep the group warm on this cold November night. As she set the table and folded the napkins, she began to speak aloud, talking to the one she knew so well.
“Well, my Jesus. Today is the day. It looks bad. It looks bad. Our eyes see dimly in this life. Oh Lord Jesus, we need your eyes. Give us your eyes to see things the way you see things. We need that wisdom, Lord. We need the comfort you promise. “
“We know you have a plan for Adams, and that means you have a plan for Sarah and me. Now, I'm not so worried about me, but Lord, you know Sarah she just needs your touch. She needs to know you are here for her.”
“Tell her Jesus. Open those eyes of hers to see that there are more with her than against her. We don’t see it down here Jesus. Show us how you see it like you see it up there.”
Then from the depth of her belly, Auntie Sadie began to sing a song she had heard just a few years before. It was the story of pain turned over to God in the hardest moments of life. The song, written in the agony of a significant business loss followed by loved ones drown in the sea. The author knew pain, and he knew peace. She sang from memory overcome with the echoes of her own surrender and loss.
When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Sadie let the tears flow down her time-worn cheeks as she raised her voice in praise singing:
It is well, (it is well),
With my soul, (with my soul)
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
At that moment Sadie knew that an Angel of God had been sent to stand with them. She could feel him walk into the room and put his hand on Sadie’s shoulder. In the presence was real peace. She stopped singing and stood in the thick, overwhelming glory of God. His peace had come.
Sadie knew that peace well. When it came, situations changed. When the glory of God came, demons fled. Auntie didn’t know what the evening held, but she knew who held the night. It was God himself.

Reverend Paul Orvis paced the floor in the Little White Chapel calling on the name of His Father. He prayed in deep, unending groans with tears streaming down his face, bent over as if in pain. "Do not forget them oh God. I know you see their faithfulness. I know you see their obedience."
Tonight, Reverend Orvis would join Thomas Calloway as they tried to help and comfort Sarah and Sadie Kunz. The problem was, Paul Orvis felt no comfort.
His gut was in knots.
Where was God in the midst of this crisis? Would He just stand by and let a poor girl like Sarah, lose it all? Was this the type of God he served?
Reverend Orvis shook his head. No, he knew better than to allow doubt to creep into his mind. He would not become part of the problem. Things looked bleak. It looked like everything evil that Andrew Saner stood for, was about to win, but Reverand Orvis knew his natural vision was limited.
As the pastor of the Little White Chapel in Adams, Paul Orvis was all too aware of the power Mr. Saner had over the town.
"Father, I glorify you. I thank you for your plan, your way. I thank you that Adams is yours, and every problem is under your feet. I don't know the solution but I know your hand, and I know you hold the answer."
Then, as if on cue, Paul Orvis fell silent. The knot in his gut loosened. His tears dried and the peace came.
Reverend Orvis sighed in relief. Something was shifting.

Thomas thought his heart would break with the ache he felt for Sarah. This woman who had offered him space to pursue the law had mysteriously stepped into his heart. He longed to comfort her. He wanted to take her in his arms, kiss away her fears and tell her he would take care of her always. But he didn't.
Instead, he looked for an answer. Any answer. He had to find a way to help Sarah keep her building. There was something sacred, something precious about this place across from the courthouse.
Unmarred by Andrew Saner, it stood as a testament to good things in the midst of the bad. Everything Thomas believed in was wrapped up in this building. He believed that individuals mattered and that their dreams could make a difference. Male or female, he believed God made them equal in His sight. There was no doubt that God had a plan when he sent Sarah to Adams. He knew it like he knew his name.
Thomas brushed his open ha
nd over the top of his head sweeping back his unruly red bangs. His fingers moved down his cheeks and absently stroked his sideburns. What was the answer?
"God, I don't know what to do. What can I do?"
A knock at the door disrupted his prayers. A young boy with a dirty shirt and scruffy hair stood on the steps. "Telegram from Chicago!" he cried.

Sarah felt the dark rolling waves lift off of her mind. The onslaught of daily confusion which saturated her being ceased in a moment of time. Suddenly, Sarah came to herself. Who had she been in the last few weeks? It was as if she was sleepwalking through the daily chores of life. Right now, she felt lighter. Fresher. Clearer.
She couldn’t explain it, but she knew it to be true.
Sarah reached up and fingered the hairpins in her hat. Her sense of self had returned and out of her mouth, deep from her belly came a bubbling split second giggle. She started. Could that have possibly come from her? How could she laugh in the midst of her shame? Why did she suddenly feel as light as a feather, even carefree in the middle of dire circumstance?