“Oh yes, Jake! That’s part of it!” Amy exclaimed. Then she began to speak of the Christian life, and he lay there listening carefully. The things she said seemed impossible, but then, the peace that had come to him had seemed impossible, too! And it was far from that.
Finally Amy laughed, saying, “You’re just like a baby, Jake! Oh, you’re a strong man, but all of us are like babies when we first are born into the family of God!” She reached out and touched his forehead, soothing it. “I always wanted another boy to raise. Now it seems the Lord has given me one.” Then she blinked her eyes and said with a short laugh, “And a hungry one, too! I almost forgot! I’ll go help Dee with your dinner.” She rose and walked to the door, but turned to say before she left, “I’ll go tell Rachel that Lazarus is up and about. She’s hardly left your side these past two days, Jake. She’ll be mad as a wet hen that I was here when you awoke instead of her!”
But though Jake waited, Rachel didn’t come. Not all that day, though he heard her voice out in the hall once or twice. Dee came, and Amy was with him often, but he caught no glimpse of Rachel—and he could not bring himself to ask about her—not until Amy came in to wish him good night.
She brought him some fresh water and smiled at him as she wished him good night, and then he asked, “Is Rachel sick or gone?”
Amy gave him an odd look, then said, “Why, no, Jake. She’s here, not sick at all.” She started to say more, but something kept her silent. She said, “Good night. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Then she was gone, and he lay there wondering why he had expected a woman who hated him to come and visit him.
He did see Rachel again, of course, several times over the next three days. She never came to his room, but when he was able to get up and go to the table for meals, she was there.
The first time they met, she stopped dead still. Then, after an awkward silence, she said, “I’m glad to see you up and about, Jake.”
“Thanks.” There was something unpleasant about the meeting to him, for he felt that he was putting her into an impossible position. She despises me, and she’s forced to be polite because I protected her and I’m in her home.
This thought grew until, five days after the accident, he got dressed, gathered his few belongings, and made his way downstairs. Amy and Rachel had gone to visit a neighbor. Dee saw him, though, and exclaimed, “Where you think you’re going?”
“Time to move on, Dee,” he said. He went over to her and, to her astonishment, gave her a hard hug. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said with a smile.
She sputtered and followed him, saying, “You ain’t strong enough to go faunchin’ around yet!”
Jake turned and smiled at her. “Tell Mrs. Franklin I’ll be back to thank her properly pretty soon.” He ignored her protests and walked out of the house toward the stable. He found Tad shoeing one of the horses and said, “Tad, would you hitch up the buggy for me? I need to go to town.”
“Shore I will, Marse Jake,” Tad agreed at once. But when he had the team hitched and Jake got up on the seat, he said, “I bettah go along, Marse Jake. You ain’t got yo’ strength back.”
“All I have to do is sit here, Tad.” Jake grinned. “Tell Mrs. Franklin I’ll leave the buggy at the livery stable. Take care of yourself—”
He drove the buggy out, and Tad stood there scratching his head. Finally Tad went to the house and found Dee, who glared at him, saying, “Well? You jest had to hitch up dat buggy, didn’t you?” When Tad began to sputter with indignation, she shook her head with exasperation, adding, “You ain’t got a lick of sense!” But she knew she was really angry at herself for letting the man go, knowing that Amy would be upset.
She was exactly right, too. When the two women came in not long after Jake had left and Dee told them what had happened, Amy exclaimed, “You shouldn’t have let him go, Dee!”
“Dat’s right!” Dee moaned. “Everything’s always my fault, ain’t it now? Anything goes wrong, it’s Dee who done it! Well, you jest tell me dis—how I’m gonna stop him? You tell me dat!”
Amy, feeling remorse, for she knew that Dee could have done nothing, began to comfort her. By the time she got the indignant woman pacified, she found that Rachel had disappeared. She went upstairs, but as she passed Rachel’s room on her way down the hall, she stopped abruptly—for she heard a muffled sound. She hesitated, thinking of how strangely Rachel had behaved since Jake had recovered. While Jake was unconscious, nothing could induce Rachel to leave his side. Once he had regained consciousness, however, she had refused to go near him!
Amy knocked on the door, and Rachel said in a muffled tone, “Go away!” At once Amy opened the door and saw Rachel lying across the bed, her face buried in her arms and her body jerking as she sobbed wildly.
“Rachel! What in the world is wrong?” Amy cried. Going over to the bed, she ignored Rachel’s wails of protest and pulled her upright.
“Oh, Mother—leave me alone!” she gasped, but then gave a great cry and fell into Amy’s arms.
Amy had long known of the depth of passion that lay in this daughter of hers, but this was the most dramatic evidence she’d seen of it. Great sobs tore through the girl, and her breath came in gasps. Amy made no attempt to speak but held the weeping girl until the sobs began to subside. Finally they stopped, and Rachel pulled away and began searching for a handkerchief. Finding one in her pocket, she wiped her eyes.
“Rachel, all of this must have something to do with Jake,” Amy said quietly. “Can’t you tell me about it?”
Rachel bit her lip, then threw her head back, tragedy in her blue-green eyes. “You’ll think I’m crazy, Mama.”
“Well, even if you’re crazy, you’re still my daughter.”
Rachel gave her a desperate look, then began to speak. “Mama, you’ve got to promise me not to tell. It’s not my secret!”
“Whatever it is, Rachel, I’ll never tell a living soul.”
Rachel knew her mother would allow herself to be torn to pieces before betraying a confidence, so she at once spilled out the story of Vince and Jake, their scheme to get hold of the inheritance. When she stopped, she looked at her mother, who had not shown one flash of emotion. “Mama—aren’t you angry?”
Amy smiled, then said, “I was when I first discovered that Jake wasn’t Vince, which was about twenty-four hours after you brought him home.”
“You knew?” Rachel gasped, shock in her eyes.
“Of course I did,” Amy said. “Am I such a ninny I can’t recognize a boy who is like my own son? He looked like Vince, but he wasn’t in the least like Vince. I can’t see why the rest of you didn’t see through him right off.” She smiled at Rachel’s confusion and said, “Why didn’t I tell anyone? Because when I prayed about it, God told me to hold my peace, to sit still and see what He would do. And we have seen, haven’t we? Both Vince and Jake are men of God now. What if I’d rushed in and exposed them? They both might well have been lost forever. Rachel, all of us have a time when God deals with us very directly, and this was the time for Vince and Jake.”
“Mama … I never knew! I was so mad because he deceived me! He made a fool out of me!”
Amy studied the girl, then asked gently, “I think I begin to see. When you were nursing Jake, thinking he was your brother, you began to feel rather peculiarly toward him, didn’t you, Rachel?”
Rachel gave a great start, her eyes flying open with shock. She had thought no one would ever find that out! “He—made me feel—”
When she broke off, unable to finish, Amy inserted, “Like a woman?”
Rachel’s face flamed, and she tried to get up, to run from the room, but Amy pulled her down and asked, “Rachel, do you love Jake?”
“No! How could I love a man who—”
“Who hurt your pride?” Amy broke in. “Is that it?” Amy studied the face of her daughter, then said, “Pride’s a fine thing, I suppose. But lots of Southerners have too much of it, I think. Men fight duels and kill
each other because they’re too proud to say ‘I’m sorry.’ And that’s foolishness, child!”
“Mama, I can’t forget the way—”
“Rachel!” Amy spoke severely. “Can pride take the place of having a man beside you? Can it keep you warm or hold you when you cry—or give you children to love?”
“Mother!”
“Rachel, I haven’t known Jake very long, but I know he’s been an instrument that God has used to make Vince into a man. And I know that whatever kind of man he used to be, he has changed since he first came to our home. He became a new man when he gave his heart to Jesus. Don’t you believe that God can wash out the old and make us new?”
Rachel sat there staring at her mother, the words piercing her like swords. For days she had been torn by a struggle between her pride and her love, and now her own mother was calling her a fool. And she was right!
“Mother—I love him so!” she burst out, and jumping up from the bed, she began to wring her hands. “What can I do!”
“Do? Why, you absurd girl! Get on that horse of yours and ride like the wind. And when you catch up to him, tell him you’ve been wrong!”
“But—what if he laughs at me?”
Amy rose and, with a smile, kissed Rachel. “You’re a silly child—but you’re a desirable woman. Men aren’t very smart sometimes. If he gives you any trouble, just let the tears well up—and fall into his arms!”
Rachel’s face flushed, but she gave her mother a fierce hug. “Thank you, Mama!” she cried out, then ran out of the room. Amy went to the window and watched as Rachel ran to the barn. In a surprisingly short time, Lady came flying out of the barn with Rachel leaning low over her neck. Then with a wave at the window where she knew her mother was standing, Rachel was gone, the horse low to the ground at a dead run.
Jake was slumped on the seat of the buggy, his face set doggedly, when he heard the sound of a horse approaching. It occurred to him that whoever it was was in a big hurry, so he pulled the buggy over to the edge of the road to give him plenty of room.
The sound of the hoofbeats grew louder, and then—
“Jake! Wait for me!”
Jake abruptly hauled up on the reins, nearly upsetting the team, which reared up and snorted with indignation. As he calmed them, he watched in amazement as Rachel pulled Lady to a stop, slid off, and ran toward the wagon. Taking one look at her face, Jake fell out of the wagon, ignoring the pain in his head as he struck the ground, and moved toward her. “Rachel—is somebody hurt?”
Then he saw that she was crying, and without a word she threw herself against him. Shock ran through him, and he stood there holding her as she clung to him fiercely. Her arms were around his neck, her face was pressed against his chest, and he was intensely conscious of her warmth and softness.
Finally she drew back and looked up at him, her eyes moist. “What is it, Rachel?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Jake,” she whispered. “I’ve been such a fool! I’m still a fool, because I came to tell you—”
When she faltered, he urged her, “Tell me what, Rachel?”
“To tell you … that no matter what happens, I love you!”
The instant she spoke the words, something inside of her relaxed and she smiled through her tears, stunning Jake with her beauty. “You may not love me, Jake Hardin, and you can laugh at me and ride away—but that won’t change anything. I love you!”
Jake was completely astonished by her statement—but not so astonished that he lost all of his senses, for he drew her to him with an urgency that startled them both. She was warm and yielding in his arms, and her lips were soft and willing. He kissed her, holding her closely, drinking in the sweetness and goodness that he had known was in her, that he had long desired. He could scarcely believe that she was here, in his arms. Yet she was, giving herself to him, and he sensed the promise in her and was humbled that she had come to offer herself so courageously.
Then she drew back, and he said at once, “Rachel, I never thought I had a chance!” He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. He began to smile. “I’ve got nothing to offer you—”
She put her fingers over his lips, saying firmly, “Don’t ever say that! Not ever!”
He kissed her fingers, then suddenly laughed, a laugh of pure joy such as he would never have thought he could give. “What a shock your father and mother are in for! A penniless beggar asking for their daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“Don’t worry about that!” Rachel said instantly. “I may have chased you all over the county, but that’s over. Now you can come courting me just like any other lovesick young man!”
Jake took her in his arms again and, when she protested, tightened his grasp. “A man in love will do any fool thing,” he said with a gleam of humor in his eyes. “So you can expect me to come with my guitar, serenading you with love songs and offering to shoot any dandy who dares look at you. Think that’ll answer?”
“Yes,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. “Yes, I believe that will do quite nicely!”
Then she kissed him, and when he drew back, he said, “Rachel, do you realize that I’ve got the world … right here in my arms?” A fierce gladness filled them both—a gladness that they were certain would not lessen, no matter what the years might bring them.
Jake held Rachel close for a moment longer, then lifted her onto the buggy seat, climbed up beside her, and turned back to Lindwood. There was a lot to be discussed, to be settled. But they had plenty of time to work it out. A lifetime, in fact.
As they drove away, Lady stood there, not understanding what had happened to her rider. Finally she snorted, gave an impatient leap, and trotted smartly after the buggy that was growing smaller in the distance as it moved down the lane.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Award-winning, bestselling author, Gilbert Morris is well known for penning numerous Christian novels for adults and children since 1984 with 6.5 million books in print. He is probably best known for the forty-book House of Winslow series, and his Edge of Honor was a 2001 Christy Award winner. He lives with his wife in Gulf Shores, Alabama.
Three Books in One: A Covenant of Love, Gate of His Enemies, and Where Honor Dwells Page 99