Refining Fire

by Tracie Peterson

  Abrianna could hear weeping throughout the church. The place was packed to capacity, no doubt due to the fire and the sense of loss felt by so many. She longed to offer comfort and words of hope rather than the harsh and condemning ones their minister was spouting out. Selfishly, she also longed to leave her seat and never return. It saddened her deeply to feel that way about the church she’d grown up in.

  “The sins of this congregation are many and must be purged before you can be right with God.” He looked straight at Abrianna and pointed his finger. “You women who seek to do the job intended for men—you must cease or face the fires of hell.” She felt her cheeks get hot. He continued to shake his finger at her. “You are no less a harlot for the shame you bring upon yourself and this congregation.” She wanted to move, to call him down, but Abrianna found it impossible to do anything.

  “And you older women—women whom God called to be teachers of the younger—you wallow in sin because you refuse to allow for the male leadership God intended you to have. You honor only your own word and keep company with those who agree. You are condemned to a life of hell unless you repent.”

  He didn’t stop there. He pointed to a group of young men. “You adulterous generation. You give yourselves over to the pleasures of the flesh and bring condemnation down on this city. Repent!”

  Pastor Walker had worked himself up into such a sweat that he threw off his suit coat and began pounding his fist on the Bible. “I alone hold the answer for you. I am the only one who can lead you to redemption.”

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Abrianna said under her breath. Would no one challenge this man? And then out of nowhere, someone did.

  “You are wrong, Pastor Walker.” It shouldn’t have surprised her that Wade would take a stand, but in that moment she’d never been prouder of him. “Jesus said that He is the way, the truth, and the life, and no man cometh unto the Father but by Him.” Wade got out of his pew and started walking toward the front. “You dare to stand as a man of God and deceive these people with words that are not scriptural?” He continued walking slowly forward.

  “You are guilty of leading these people astray with your pride and arrogance, saying you alone have the answers. You say that you alone saved this church, but to my way of thinking, that honor goes to God.” There were murmurs of amen throughout the congregation.

  “Apostate! Blasphemer!” Walker screeched.

  Wade was unmoved. He held up his hand and closed his eyes. “Father, I ask in the name of Jesus that you silence this man.”

  He opened his eyes and stared hard at the preacher. “You are the apostate and blasphemer. You would have these broken and wounded people believe that the fire was somehow their fault, their sin. You are wrong. We live in a world corrupted—that much is truth—but you, sir, are not our savior. That honor goes to Jesus.”

  Walker opened his mouth and nothing came out but sputters. He looked furious and pounded his fist against his Bible several times before giving up. In fury he rushed from the pulpit and came at Wade with fists raised. In a matter of seconds there were at least half a dozen men at Wade’s side. This stopped Walker cold.

  “I think we should sing a hymn and conclude the service,” Brother Mitchell announced from the pulpit.

  Abrianna breathed a sigh of relief as several of the men took hold of Pastor Walker and escorted him from the building. She met Wade’s eyes when he turned. She smiled, feeling such a sense of pride and love for him that she wanted to go to him and tell him all that she felt. He smiled back, then took his place back in the pew alongside a giggly Clara, who tugged on his arm and was now whispering in his ear. Seeing her do that robbed Abrianna of her joy. Seeing Wade smile back at the young woman very nearly took her heart.

  25

  A couple of days later, Abrianna looked at the older man who sat beside her and pondered what it might have been like to grow up with a father in her life, rather than three old ladies. James Cunningham had had no place in her past life, except that of a name. Now as they shared a bit of time alone on the expansive porch of the bridal school, Abrianna found she wanted to know everything about this man.

  “I still can’t believe you are really here.” She met his gaze. “I used to dream this might happen, that you and Mama would come to me and tell me it had all been some horrible mistake. That you were both alive and well and loved me.”

  “I’ve always loved you, Abrianna.” He looked across the yard toward the bay. “I loved your mama, too. I’m deeply ashamed that she died without me by her side. Maybe if I’d been there, she wouldn’t have died at all.”

  “Possibly.” She knew life was full of what if’s, and few ever served a good purpose. “I know Aunt Miriam said Mama loved you and felt certain you had died, otherwise you would have returned to her.”

  “I’m glad she knew I loved her and never lost faith in me,” her father replied. “All those years in prison, paying for something I didn’t do, nearly drove me mad. I worried about whether you two were safe. I knew there would be no income for her and fretted something fierce over what she would do to keep you both from starvation.”

  “She sought help from God’s people. The ladies who took her in were strong in the Lord. They still are. My aunts told me that they knew beyond a doubt that they were to see to us and, when Mama died, to go on caring for me. I’ve had a good life with them, and I love them as dearly as if they were my own blood.”

  “They are good women,” he agreed. “Your mama used to say that God was able to meet our every need. She was the one who helped me see the truth. She was there on the Sunday when I went to the altar and prayed for forgiveness. How I wish I could have back all those years with her and with you.”

  “We will have to make the best of the years to come instead. I have spent far too many moments lost in sorrow and longing for what could have been.” Abrianna smiled and put her hand atop his. “That is behind me now, and I have you. I shall look forward to getting to know what it is to have an earthly father.”

  He took her hand in his. “I hope we have a good many years.”

  A carriage came up the long drive, and several well-dressed men stepped from within. The driver sat ramrod straight, not moving from his perch as the men made their way up the stairs of the bridal school. Abrianna got to her feet to investigate, her father right behind her.

  “May I help you gentlemen?”

  “We are here to speak with Mrs. Madison,” one of the men declared. “Might she be in residence?” He handed Abrianna a calling card.

  “‘Mayor Robert Moran,’” she read aloud.

  “Yes, and this is Judge Junius Rochester and former governor Watson C. Squire.”

  “I’m honored to meet you, gentlemen. I am Miss Abrianna Cunningham, and this is my father, James Cunningham. Mrs. Madison is my aunt. If you will follow me inside, I will announce you.”

  She escorted them into the main parlor and asked if they would like to take tea. They declined, assuring her that their stay would be brief. Abrianna found her aunt in the kitchen teaching a group of young ladies how to make a proper salmon soufflé.

  “Aunt Miriam, I am sorry to interrupt.” Abrianna handed her the calling card. “He is in the front parlor, along with a judge and former governor of the state. They said they would be brief.”

  Her aunt looked appalled. “I suppose this fire has sent proper etiquette out the window when it comes to calling on people. Goodness, but it’s not even ten.” She dusted flour from her hands and untied her apron. “Ladies, Abrianna will take over.”

  Abrianna tried not to appear shocked as Aunt Miriam handed over her apron. “You know very well how to make a salmon soufflé.” She left Abrianna and the others to attend her company.

  Abrianna looked back at the gathering of ladies and shrugged. Even the Chinese girls she’d helped to safety were watching and waiting. She donned the apron and smiled. “All right, let’s see where Aunt Miriam left off.”

  Militine and Thane sh
ared a quick kiss before entering the large informal sitting room where the others were waiting. Mrs. Madison, Mrs. Gibson, and Miss Poisie sat together on the edge of the large sofa, while Abrianna, Wade, and Mr. Cunningham all sat separately.

  “Now that we are all assembled,” Mrs. Madison said, “I have news to share that will affect each of you. The mayor came to meet with me and has made a request. It seems that he would like us to hold our annual ball as usual. He asks, however, that we consider opening it to everyone as a way of encouraging the citizens of Seattle. He thought it might serve well if we were to hold it on the Fourth of July.”

  “Although that is a Thursday, and the ball has always been held on Friday,” Miss Poisie interjected, as if this were an important point.

  Mrs. Madison gave her a nod and continued. “He told me that he and several others who did not suffer loss are quite willing to put up the money to see the event held. I thought since we have only one couple who wish to wed that we refrain from this being a ball and perhaps call it a Fourth of July celebration. However, I wished to discuss it with all involved.”

  “I think it sounds like a wonderful idea,” Mr. Cunningham said. “I’ll happily do whatever I can to help with the affair.”

  “Me too,” Wade declared. “Maybe we could get some fireworks. Thane and I could handle a display for the party.”

  “Oh, that would be grand,” Mrs. Gibson said, clapping her pudgy hands together. “Just imagine how spectacular that would be.”

  Mrs. Madison smiled, but her gaze was fixed on Militine and Thane. “I do want you two to know that this needn’t interfere with your wedding plans. We have thoroughly discussed the situation, and if you are agreed, we would like to have your wedding here in the garden. It would be a private affair.”

  Militine looked at Thane and nodded. “I would much prefer a small wedding to a large and formal ball.”

  Thane smiled. “As long as she’s happy, I’m happy.”

  “We thought perhaps the twenty-ninth of this month. We could have a lovely morning wedding.”

  “Oh yes, and then a wedding breakfast,” Miss Poisie said with great gusto. “I do love wedding breakfasts. They are always such grand affairs.”

  “I do have one concern,” Thane said. “I have no home to take a bride to. Were it not for you, Mrs. Madison, as well as Mrs. Gibson and Miss Poisie putting me and Wade up in the carriage house with Mr. Cunningham, I would be living in the relief tent downtown.”

  “We did consider that, as well.” Mrs. Madison looked to Wade and then Thane. “However, it will involve a little work on your part. Perhaps Wade’s, as well.”

  “What is it? What can I do?” Thane asked.

  “Well, as you know, just off the third-floor ballroom there is a large open room that is currently housing our Chinese guests. Prior to this, it hadn’t served any purpose other than storage, and we are of a mind that it would be better divided into rooms. I believe two large rooms and a bathroom could easily be fitted in that area. If you and Wade are willing to do the work, I will provide the money to purchase the materials. It seems the entire town is all about building, anyway, and I have it on the word of the mayor that he will personally arrange the supplies.” She paused and her expression softened from her usual stern look.

  “I know what it is to find true love, and I am quite happy that you and Militine have found each other. Therefore, given the circumstances, I would like to invite you to stay here with us after you wed. Thane, you have been like family for some years, and we have grown fond of Militine. You could call this home for as long as needed.”

  “Sounds like a pretty good deal,” Wade said, giving Thane a wink.

  Militine felt herself blush at the thought that so many people were arranging for her to have a bedroom with her husband. It was quite a concession for Mrs. Madison. Never had men been allowed to stay in the house. The Bridal School had always been absolutely proper on that matter.

  “I think we’d like that.” Thane looked to Militine. She nodded and squeezed his hand.

  “Very well. Then we shall make arrangements for the materials, the wedding, and the Fourth of July celebration. Agreed?” Mrs. Madison asked.

  “Agreed,” they declared in unison.

  “And the wedding will be on the twenty-ninth.” Abrianna strolled the grounds with Priam Welby and chattered about most anything that came to mind. Although the man had proven to be kind and even pleasant company, she still had no feelings for him.

  “Would that it could be our wedding,” he said, turning her to face him. “I apologize if that was inappropriate, but I find myself more and more anxious to make you fall in love with me.”

  She shook her head. “Should a person ever be made to fall in love? I thought those things were to happen naturally, not to be forced.”

  “Oh, Abrianna, you are so innocent of life. Many people marry without love and then develop it during their time together. I could teach you much.” He tried to pull her into an embrace, but Abrianna moved to the side.

  “Mr. Welby, as I told you when this . . . courtship started, I do not love you, nor do I believe that I will fall in love with you. You were the one who drew up the contracts with Mr. Booth, and you know very well why I agreed to see you.”

  His expression hardened for a moment, and then he looked quite remiss. “I am sorry. I never meant to push you. As an innocent young woman you have no idea the wonder of a love that blooms between a man and a woman.”

  Wade came to mind. She tried to put his image from her head, but it remained even as Mr. Welby spoke of romance. Thinking back to how Clara had flirted with Wade again over dinner the night before, Abrianna realized in a start that she was jealous. Jealous of Clara. But why? Was it because the girl interacted so easily with men?

  But I have never had any trouble speaking to a man—especially to Wade. I have shared my heart with him on many occasions and have had great fun in his company.

  “I fear you are no longer listening,” Mr. Welby said. “I’m not convinced that you are truly giving me a chance.”

  Abrianna cleared her mind. “I am sorry. It’s just that there is so much to be done. The wedding is in less than two weeks, and we are busy not only with those preparations but also for the Fourth of July celebration.”

  “Might I escort you to the wedding? Perhaps with me at your side in such a romantic setting, you will find yourself envious of your friend and reconsider marriage.”

  “I’m sorry, but no. I am to stand up with Militine, and the entire affair is very private.” Seeing his look of disappointment, she added, “Of course you are invited to the Fourth of July party. Everyone is.”

  He said nothing for a moment, and Abrianna feared she had offended him. Goodness, but men were so easily put out. She tried to reason how she might soothe his feelings when he appeared to completely recover and changed the subject.

  “I have found a ship that will take the Chinese girls back to their homeland.”

  “Truly?” It was news most exciting.

  “Yes.” He gave a chuckle. “I’m glad to see that at least something related to me brings you joy.”

  She ignored his comment. “Tell me, when can the girls be returned? Now that they are recovering from their ordeal, at least where their health is concerned, I know that my aunts are anxious to see them where they belong.”

  “As am I,” Welby replied in a most matter-of-fact manner. “The ship leaves next Thursday. I have already told Mrs. Madison that I will make the arrangements.”

  “Wonderful!” Abrianna clapped her hands together. “That is such joyous news.” She forgot herself and reached out to give him a hug as she would have Wade.

  Welby took full advantage of the moment, and before Abrianna could offer protest he pulled her close and covered her mouth with his own. Her stomach clenched, and a wave of something akin to anxiety flooded her emotions. Abrianna pushed him away and gave him a most disapproving glare.

  “You had no right.” />
  He seemed put out, but his words were apologetic. “I am sorry. I lost my wits.” He smiled, seeming to change his mood once again. “I can’t help but be overcome with my feelings for you. When you approached me, I lost all reason. Please forgive me.”

  He sounded sincere enough, but Abrianna detected something of pride and arrogance in his countenance. He didn’t strike her as truly being all that sorry.

  “I will forgive you, Mr. Welby. It was in part my fault. I forgot myself. I am used to my friendship with Mr. Ackerman. He has always been a dear friend since we were young, and I find that we are quite comfortable together.” A frown came as her thoughts betrayed her. Wade was the only man she had ever truly felt comfortable with. He was always someone she could rely on, trust, and confide in. He was to her all the things Priam Welby wished to be.

  Mr. Welby cleared his throat, and Abrianna shook off her thoughts. “I must be going,” he said, giving her a little bow. “I will speak to your aunt tomorrow. Tell her I will make all the arrangements for your house guests and bring her the details.”

  They reached the front porch once again. Abrianna bid him farewell and watched Mr. Welby leave in his fine carriage. Without thought to her gown, Abrianna plopped down on one of the steps and pondered the events that had just taken place. Welby’s kiss had meant nothing to her. Instead, it had put her off. She had no desire to be in his arms. She couldn’t even conjure up feelings for the man that weren’t edged with mistrust and suspicion. There was nothing of the ease she found with Wade.

  She placed her elbow on her knee and leaned her head in her hand. And always there was Wade. Day after day she could see that her heart was more tied to him than she’d realized. She had so long thought she would remain single—doing God’s work—that to find herself pondering courtship and marriage to Priam Welby seemed at best unrealistic. But when she thought of Wade, those ideas left her with different feelings altogether. For just a moment she allowed her heart and mind to inspect the possibilities more deeply.