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Refining Fire

Page 11

by Tracie Peterson


  Thane rested his elbows on the table and then his chin in his hands. Wade could tell by the look on his face there was more troubling his friend. Otherwise his friend wouldn’t have stormed into his apartment to disrupt Wade’s Bible reading. Waiting for Thane to speak, Wade went to stoke up the fire in the stove and then sat back down. After what seemed an eternity, Thane finally lifted his head.

  “You know my past. You know all the sordid details. Things I’ve never told anyone else.”

  “I do.”

  “I never wanted to tell anyone. I only wanted to run from the past and all that it represented. I wanted to forget who I was and who others thought I’d become. I might be crazy, but I think Militine feels the same way. I mean, she never wants to discuss the past, and I think it’s because there’s violence and ugliness there that she can’t bear to remember.”

  Wade toyed with the edge of his Bible. “A lot of folks have bad things in their past that they’d just as soon forget. What makes you think she’s got it worse than most?”

  “She mentioned once that her father was strict and intolerant. I’m pretty sure he beat her. A couple of times when I reached out toward her, she cowered like I might hit her.”

  Wade could only imagine that a great many young women were mistreated in just such a manner. He’d often seen men bullying and belittling the women in their company. Just watching the way they interacted, it wasn’t hard to imagine the men becoming physical in their anger.

  “I know that she’s been hurt, Wade. What I don’t know is how to make her forget about it. Or at least how to get her to talk about it. Sometimes talking helps. I need her to know she’s safe with me.”

  “Did it help you? I thought you told me not so long ago that you wished you’d kept it to yourself.”

  “Only because of the burden it put on you to remain silent. I hate that you have to think on all that just as I have had to do. My life back in Missouri was hell on earth, and no one should have to relive it or even imagine it.”

  Wade opened the Bible and thumbed through the pages. “It’s funny you say that. Tonight, when I was preparing for the Bible study, I did think of you and your past. Leaving home and all you knew at the age of thirteen. Facing the unknown and working your way to the next meal.”

  “What made you think of that?” Thane seemed almost confused. “Don’t tell me there’s a similar story in the Bible.”

  “Well, similar enough.” Wade opened to the book of Daniel. “See, I was reading here about a young man who was separated from his people when he was young. An enemy came and took over his country and Daniel, being one of the best youths—good looking, intelligent, and in pretty good shape—was taken to be trained.”

  “Trained for what?”

  “The king thought he might be useful in his court, so he educated Daniel and some friends of his. Fed him and clothed him. He offered the best wines and foods to Daniel.”

  “How could that possibly remind you of me? I’ve never been offered the best of anything. I was lucky if folks didn’t show me the door.”

  “Well, here’s where the story takes a turn. Daniel and his friends had been trained to put their trust in God. They were Hebrews and believed in the God of Abraham. Their folks had obviously been good about teaching them what was right and wrong. Daniel and his friends didn’t want the best foods and wines, because it was against their law, against their faith. Instead, they just wanted vegetables and water. They were sure it would be better for them in the long run to be obedient, and it was.”

  “Wade, I don’t see how that relates to me at all.” Thane shook his head. “I don’t have faith in God, and frankly, I’m not real fond of vegetables.”

  Wade laughed. “Both you and Daniel were young men who had a choice. You could lie down and die or survive as best you could. In both cases, there had to be a willingness to endure changes. But there also needed to be a firm foundation of strength from deep inside to see you through. Daniel’s foundation was fixed on God. He knew God, because his folks had seen to that. Daniel trusted God. He had great confidence in what God could do for him and with him.”

  “But I don’t feel that way. I didn’t know anything but pain and misery, lies and death. I don’t have that kind of hope. My hope or strength always had to come from myself, and that proved to be a disaster.”

  “I know, Thane. But you could have the kind of hope Daniel had.” Wade eased back again. “You were taken out of what you knew and set into a place that you didn’t. You had to find the will to go on. I saw that in Daniel, too. It couldn’t have been easy remembering the past, even a good past. But I don’t know that Daniel’s past was good. After all, the enemy took over his people. Maybe his folks were murdered in front of him. I don’t know. What I do know is that God made all the difference for him.”

  “And you believe He’ll make all the difference for me? Is that it?”

  “You know it is. I know that the past still haunts you. Just as you suspect it does with Militine. I know you both have your hearts set against God for one reason or another.” Wade yawned and gave a stretch. “I also have a feeling that the time is soon coming when you’re going to have to make a choice to go on being chained to the past or to find liberty in a new life with God’s help.”

  “I don’t know if that’s possible.” Thane again put his head in his hands.

  Wade smiled, knowing Thane wouldn’t see it. “Well, I do.”

  11

  Priam waited for his new client, Anthony Jessup, to make up his mind. The man seemed insistent upon scrutinizing every detail of the contract Welby had drawn up.

  Weeks of profitable trade had made Priam Welby wealthier than he could have imagined. Seeing his money accumulate pleased him more than anything else in the world, but waiting for this man to conclude their business only served to irritate him.

  He had better things to do with his time, and time was money. With every new goal he met, Priam moved one step closer to stripping his father of all comfort and financial well-being. His latest venture had gained him the majority control of stocks in one of his father’s largest companies. Things were going along just as he had hoped and planned for so many years.

  The human commodities he’d supplied to various clients had netted him considerable money; however, shipping people proved more difficult than shipping items of ceramic, glass, or powder. Drugs and artifacts brought him a good price and required no upkeep along the way. And drugs and artifacts couldn’t die. Much to his frustration, Priam became all too aware that sickness could easily claim his fleshly cargo. Four young women had contracted smallpox on the trip to America and died within sight of the coast. The financial loss was great and caused Priam to reevaluate his business. With that in mind, he decided he would put aside that part of his industry after a few more shipments.

  Five young Chinese girls, barely women, stood trembling before the men, awaiting their fate. Welby had instructed Carl to tie them together earlier to avoid any escaping while Jessup made up his mind. Carl was standing near the enclosure where the girls were kept, looking just as annoyed at the length of time the transaction was taking.

  “I believe things are in order,” Anthony Jessup finally declared. “How long will you have . . . stock available ? I assure you Kansas City has never seen anything like this.”

  “I don’t plan to be at this for much longer. Perhaps into the summer. After that I’m getting out,” Priam told the man who stood at his side.

  “That’s a pity. I’ve heard wonderful things about your . . . inventory.”

  “I think you’ll have to admit my girls are some of the loveliest.” He looked to the man and smiled. “Do they suit your needs?”

  “They are definitely a good start. The place I plan to open is going to be filled with exotic women from all around the world. Can you supply me with others?”

  Welby motioned for Carl to take the women back to their locked room. “I believe I can. As I mentioned, I intend to receive a few more
shipments.” He motioned to Jessup. “Let’s go upstairs to my office and discuss this. I’d like to know what you have in mind.”

  Jessup kept abreast as they walked toward the stairs. “I am opening an exclusive club in Kansas City. I want to have some of the most beautiful and yet unusual women in the world. I’ve seen women from India who were quite lovely. From the Scandinavian countries, too. Oh, and from Africa. I’m not talking about those blacks who have been slaves here in America. No, I’ve met some of the African women abroad. They are more subdued and obedient. Not to mention there are some truly beautiful women to choose from. Especially in Egypt.”

  “I understand.” Priam led the man up the stairs and down the hall to his office. “Let’s discuss the numbers.”

  Jessup nodded and took a seat opposite Priam’s massive mahogany desk.

  “Would you care for a cigar?” Welby opened a humidor, and Jessup reached inside.

  “Nothing like a good cigar to smoke over business.”

  Priam took his seat and nodded. “I agree.”

  “Is that piece original?” Jessup asked, pointing to the Chinese statue Priam had kept for himself.

  “Yes, it’s from the Jin Dynasty. They call it Guanshiyin.”

  Jessup nodded. “I’m familiar. I have quite a collection of pieces from around the world.” The older man studied the piece a bit longer. “It isn’t for sale, is it?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. However, I have a great variety of pieces that are. After we conclude our business here, I’ll take you to my warehouse. I think you’ll find enough to interest you there.”

  “Sounds good to me.” The man clipped his cigar. “As for the girls, I want the five you showed me downstairs. I’m also going to want at least another ten.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. I’m expecting a new load of girls any day now. And I have made arrangements to bring in a few from India, so that should please you, as well. How long will you be in town?”

  “I can stay as long as needed.” The man lit his cigar. “Perhaps I can mix my business with pleasure while I wait. I have a room over at the Arlington Hotel. Maybe you could send some diversion my way?”

  Priam chuckled. “For the right price, my good sir, I can send an entire harem your way.”

  As April approached, the women at the Madison Bridal School had plans well underway for the June bridal ball. It had been decided some months earlier that this year the theme would be patriotic. The country hadn’t added a new state to the union since Colorado in 1876, and in February, Congress passed an enabling act allowing for Montana, North and South Dakota, and Washington to seek statehood. The prospect excited Abrianna.

  “I knew that once we got rid of that preposterous Mr. Cleveland,” Aunt Selma declared, “God would once again bless this country.”

  “So true, Selma.” Aunt Miriam nodded her agreement. “It would seem God has trouble with Democrats, just as we do.”

  Abrianna placed the eggs she’d just gathered on the counter. “The political party might not be so offensive to Him as is the nonsense each man brings along to clog up the works.”

  Aunt Poisie bobbed her head in agreement. “I was just reading the other day that President Harrison’s wife has asked for a large amount of money to renovate the White House. She wants to put in more bathrooms. I fail to understand why two people need more bathrooms. The article stated there were already several bathrooms available in that grand building.” She paused, looking quite confused. “You surely can’t use more than one at a time.”

  “It’s true,” Aunt Selma agreed. “It would seem a waste to me.”

  “But it is ‘the People’s House,’ as they call it. They have a great many people visiting the White House each year.” Abrianna offered this, although she, too, felt that additional bathrooms were foolish.

  Poisie gave a tsking sound. “I say save the money and put up an outhouse for extra visitors.”

  “Oh, I can hardly believe an outhouse would be acceptable for the president’s yard,” Aunt Miriam replied. She began to inspect the eggs. “I can’t say that I see any purpose in renovation, however.”

  Abrianna shrugged. “I read that there is a terrible rodent infestation.”

  “A good cat or two would alleviate that problem,” Aunt Poisie offered. “Do you suppose no one has thought to tell them that? I could write a letter.”

  The other two older women looked at her for a moment. Finally Aunt Miriam nodded. “That might be wise, Sister. Write and let them know that there are a great many economical ways to eliminate pests. Perhaps they’ve lived so long in the city that they’ve forgotten the simple things.”

  “And cats are so very nice to have on your lap in the winter,” Aunt Selma added. “I do believe we should take up a few ourselves. After all, it would help with our own situation. I haven’t seen the return of that mouse since earlier in the year, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still around.”

  “Oh yes, Aunt Miriam. I would love to have a cat.” Abrianna had always begged for pets while they lived downtown, but her aunts refused. It was far too dangerous, according to her aunts, for the animal might well escape the building and rush out into oncoming traffic.

  “Then it seems we are all in agreement.” Poisie clapped her hands. “I shall immediately look into it. We should have at least two. Perhaps I can find some for the president, as well.” She grew thoughtful. “Do you suppose they would prefer tiger-striped?”

  The delightful thought of getting a pet stayed with Abrianna throughout lunch at the food house. She stood humming and handing out bowls of soup and smiling on all who passed by. Even Wade noted her pleasant mood.

  “Usually when a young lady acts this cheery, she has a secret. Do you have one to tell?” he whispered in her ear.

  “If I did, it wouldn’t be a secret once I told it.” She chuckled. “But if I had a secret, you would be the first to know.”

  “Well, while you are never one for gloom, you seem far happier than usual, Abrianna.”

  “I am. My aunts have decided we are to get two cats. I’ve long wanted some pets, and this will suit me just fine. I had thought to seek solace with the cows and chickens, but they simply do not make good pets. I suppose if one had raised a cow from birth it might make an acceptable outdoor pet, but we certainly couldn’t have a cow in the house.”

  “No, I don’t think that would work under any circumstances. Although I do recall hearing about an old lady who kept chickens in her house.”

  “That would never bode well with Aunt Miriam. First, they would create quite a mess. And then, once we had cats? I do suppose they might worry the chickens. Don’t you think?”

  “I do indeed. I’m certain that chickens and cats would not make for lasting friendships. Now tell me, how did this come about?”

  She turned her attention to the man who’d come for soup. “Here you are, Captain Johnson. It’s chicken and dumplings, just like you requested.” Brianna pressed the bowl into the gnarled hands. Most of the seamen were missing fingers, sometimes two, but Captain Johnson was missing two on each hand and that, coupled with his age, made it difficult for him to grip. However, Abrianna wasn’t about to shame him by offering to carry the bowl to the table. She’d made that mistake once before with another old sailor. It was best to let them handle the situation for themselves. She knew the men at the table would help him in a manner that wouldn’t make him feel bad.

  Turning back to Wade, she tried to remember what it was he’d asked. “Oh yes. You wanted to know about the cats. Well, we were having a discussion and one thing led to another. Aunt Poisie had read about renovations to take place at the White House. Apparently they need extra bathrooms. Although none of us could really imagine why.

  “Then I mentioned that there was supposedly a rodent infestation, and we all decided a cat or two would surely handle the problem easily enough.”

  He looked confused. “But how does that account for Mrs. Madison getting cats for the school?”<
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  Another group of men straggled up to the table. As they formed a line, each man picked up a piece of bread and waited for Abrianna to serve the soup. “We decided we could probably use a cat or two to ward off mice, and Aunt Poisie volunteered to find us some.”

  Ladling the thick soup into a bowl, Abrianna was pleased that she’d mastered the art of talking and serving at the same time. But oh, what would Aunt Miriam say about her pride? Goodness, she always had more lessons to learn. A thick dumpling plopped onto the tablecloth, as if to punctuate the point. A quick glance at Wade and the twinkle in his eye pushed Abrianna to continue her story and cover her embarrassment, lest they both break out into laughter. “Aunt Poisie also said she would see about securing the White House a couple.”

  “Did she now?” Wade stifled a laugh. “I’m sure Mrs. Harrison will appreciate that.”

  “You can never tell.” She shrugged. “Many of those folks in the Capitol often seem not to have any idea of how to make the simplest decision.”

  Jay Bowes approached Abrianna with a smile. “You’re lookin’ like sunshine today, Miss Abrianna.”

  She noted her yellow gown, now protected by a large white apron. “I felt like wearing something bright and cheery to go along with our wonderful weather.” She handed him a bowl. “I hope you like chicken and dumplings, but if you don’t, I’m not sure what to tell you. We haven’t yet seen the need to serve more than one kind of soup. I have considered it, though.” She grew thoughtful. Serving more than one kind of soup each day would cause more problems than she cared to think about. They had no way to keep remaining food from going bad. Even if they managed to purchase a large icebox, the papers had made clear there was a shortage of ice in the city.

  “Did you hear me?”

  She startled. “What?”

  Mr. Bowes laughed. “I said the kind of soup doesn’t matter nearly as much as the company. I’m pleased to be here just for the honor of sharing a few words with you.”

 

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