Daughter of Grace

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Daughter of Grace Page 19

by Michael Phillips


  Did Katie and Pa ever have lunch alone? What did they talk about? Or did they ever go on walks or rides in the wagon alone together, as if they were courting? Those were the kinds of questions I couldn’t help wondering about.

  But I didn’t know any of the answers. I never saw them alone together, except by accident. From looking, you’d never have known they were planning to be married the next month. It still seemed like a “business” kind of deal, like she was going to work for Pa instead of be his wife—tend the cabin and kids and keep the place clean.

  Pa was as nice to Katie as he’d be to anyone. He’d show her consideration and compliment her on a nice meal. And lots of times he’d say, “Thank you,” to her for different things. He seemed like he was trying to act like a good husband ought to.

  I think Pa wanted to be nice to her, maybe even for Ma’s sake, to do some things better now that he hadn’t done with her. But he didn’t touch Katie or put his arm around her—and as long ago as it was, I can still remember him putting his arm around Ma almost every day. And they didn’t laugh or have fun together or go outside alone or anything. She called him Drummond. He still called her Miss Kathryn. After a while she kept pestering him about it. I thought of her as Katie in my mind, but to her face I still called her Miss Morgan like the other kids.

  Tad and Emily and Becky all loved her, of course—she saw to that. If Pa’d brought her all the way from Virginia mostly to be like a nanny to his children, then she was up to the task. At first little Tad had followed Uncle Nick around like a puppy dog. But now that there was a new person around, the luster was gone from Uncle Nick’s shadow. Tad and Becky were Miss Morgan’s constant companions, and she didn’t seem to mind. The three of them were always talking. Emily kept to herself a little. I think she would take longer to accept a new stepmother, just like Zack and me.

  I wish us three older ones could have talked about the feelings we were having, and how Ma and Pa fit into them. But there’s a big difference between seventeen and fourteen and thirteen. Brothers and sisters aren’t always accustomed to talking to one another about important things, anyway. So probably even though we were sharing lots of the same feelings, we didn’t really talk about them to each other.

  I wasn’t the only one who was growing. Zack would be fifteen in the summer. He was shooting up, getting tall and lanky and his voice was getting deep. It wouldn’t be long before there’d be three grown men up there working the mine.

  Emily, too, was getting shapely like a young lady. I wish Ma had lived to see quiet little Emily gradually blossom into a woman. Right now she was sort of in between. The little girl would laugh out in the merriest way, but suddenly without warning that part of her would hide and out of her rich, blue-green eyes would come a glance that made her look for an instant to be twenty years old.

  I was amazed when I saw it. Emily had always been my kid sister, and now all at once I began to realize that we’d both be women before we knew it. On her face I could almost see the two parts of her—the woman-child and the childlike-lady—going back and forth, neither quite knowing which was supposed to be in control.

  I wish Emily had someone to help her through the growing-up struggle, like I’d had Ma and now had Mrs. Parrish. Maybe one day I could be a little like that for her. Or perhaps she and Katie would hit it off like I had with Mrs. Parrish—though I couldn’t tell if Katie would understand things in the same way Mrs. Parrish always seemed to.

  Uncle Nick seemed to get accustomed to Katie pretty quickly. He didn’t complain about the barn much after the first day or two, and he acted more friendly toward Katie, even on the second day. It wasn’t long, in fact, before he and Katie seemed to be pretty good friends and would laugh and talk together. They were a little closer in age than either was to Pa, and Uncle Nick was pretty rambunctious himself, like Katie seemed to be, so I expected they would get along fine.

  Once Uncle Nick realized that Katie was going to be a help around the place and that he didn’t need to be jealous of Ma’s memory on account of her, I think he decided to accept her as part of the family.

  He started making an effort, just like Pa, to be a mite more gracious, with a woman around the place now. He and Pa’d make a point of washing their hands before supper or of cleaning the mud off their boots before coming in the cabin. They even started taking regular baths in the creek, and with Katie washing their clothes, it smelled more pleasant when everyone was inside.

  The townsfolk and the people in the shops liked Katie right off. Nobody in Miracle Springs knew Ma, so they were all just happy for Pa and they all said Katie seemed like she’d do just fine in California. There was talk about several other men writing for mail-order brides too, now that they saw how well Pa had done!

  It was a Tuesday when we got home from Sacramento. The following Saturday evening Pa was talking after supper about going to church the next day and seeing folks for the first time with Katie with us.

  “It’s only fair that I warn you, Drummond,” said Katie after she realized what Pa was talking about, “that I’m not a religious person. I don’t intend to be going off to some church service every Sunday.”

  Her statement took Pa by surprise. We all waited to see what he’d say, but he let her go on.

  “Oh, I don’t mind going with you once in a while. And I’ll do my duty to you and the kids. I won’t stand in the way of them getting their proper share of religious training, if that’s what you want for them. It’s just that for me, church is not something I have much use for.”

  “Mind telling me why?” said Pa.

  “My aunt was a devout lady. She went to mass every week, and had the priest come over to the house after she was sick. But I never saw any good it did her—just a bunch of rituals that wasted half her life. And a long time ago I decided I was going to make better use of my time than that.”

  “There’s a lot of decent folks think church holds folks together and makes a community work better,” said Pa.

  “I don’t doubt the church has a function,” Katie answered. “But all the priests and preachers and half the church people I ever met were just as hypocritical as the crooked shopkeepers and land swindlers, so I never saw much use of getting involved.”

  I was just about to say something but Pa spoke up again, and his words surprised me.

  “Well, here in Miracle Springs we got a decent man for our preacher, and I don’t think anyone for miles would say he’s a hypocrite. There’s as much difference between Rev. Rutledge and Royce as day and night.”

  Good for Pa, I thought, sticking up for the minister!

  “Royce?”

  “The banker. He’s our local version of what you call land swindlers.”

  Uncle Nick laughed from over by the fire. “Don’t you know, Drum, he’s just trying to make an honest profit like any businessman!”

  “Who’ve you been talking to, Nick?”

  “Royce has changed,” laughed Uncle Nick. “No more shady land deals. Now he swindles folks the honest way! If you wanna know my opinion, Katie, I can abide preachers a lot sooner than I can bankers! Them’s the ones I don’t trust!”

  Now Pa laughed. “You’re right there. Royce woulda had this whole claim of ours if Corrie and Tad and Zack hadn’t foiled him. Low-down clean through. But talking about that minister again, I helped him build that church of his and he proved himself a worthwhile man in my book. And he’s got some other good folks in that church too.”

  “You may be entirely right. I’ll go with you tomorrow and you can depend on me to do my duty as your wife and for your children. Just don’t expect me to become one of this man Rutledge’s followers.”

  Nothing more was said. Pa settled back in his chair and was even more quiet than usual for a spell.

  Chapter 29

  An Afternoon in Miracle Springs

  We all piled into the wagon the next morning to go into town for church. Uncle Nick didn’t usually go with us, but he did that day, and it was nice, feel
ing like a whole family.

  It’s funny I would say that with Katie there, but that was how I felt. And naturally everybody was all eyes as we rode up.

  Katie must’ve known everyone was curious about her, but she just walked into the church like there was nothing out of the ordinary and she did this same thing every Sunday. Pa led the way in and didn’t stop to make any introductions, just nodding to his friends here and there.

  We took up a whole row of chairs, the eight of us—a Belle, six Hollisters, and a Morgan-soon-to-be-a-Hollister. I don’t suppose he could have helped noticing it, but Rev. Rutledge didn’t say or do anything out of the ordinary, and the service went on pretty much like always.

  The minister did say one thing that stuck with me. He was talking about how it was when we expect things to go a certain way and then all of a sudden our plans are upset. Or when we think we’re supposed to do one thing and find out we can’t.

  He said that God never blocks one path unless He’s got another one for us to take. He said it was like walking through a forest and all of a sudden finding a huge tree fallen across the way. Sometimes God puts those trees there to make us move in another direction we might never have discovered otherwise.

  What he said reminded me of Mrs. Parrish talking about everything always working out for the best if we’re doing our best to obey God. Katie’s coming was like a tree across the path of my life. It might not have been how I wanted it to be, but if God really was the one who was behind everything that happened to me, then it was bound to turn out good in the end.

  Right then I realized I ought to try to think of Katie not like something that had come across my path that was intended to hurt my life, but as a tree God had sent to move me in a new way—maybe toward something that wouldn’t have been able to be otherwise, something that was even better than the first path through the woods.

  Anyway, I think that’s what Mrs. Parrish would have told me. She was forever looking for the good side of things that happened. She said it was more than just being optimistic. She said that’s what God wanted us to do—to always trust Him to work everything out in the best of all possible ways.

  I sneaked a peek around to where Mrs. Parrish was sitting listening to Rev. Rutledge. She smiled at me as if she knew what I was thinking. It must make her proud, I thought as I turned back and faced the front again, seeing this church and all the people in it, knowing that she was the one who got it going, and who first wrote to Rev. Rutledge.

  I never heard anyone say it, but I guess she was the most influential person in Miracle Springs. I couldn’t think of anyone whose life hadn’t been changed in some way on account of her—her business, the money she helped folks with, the church, the school. I wondered if she even knew all she’d done! I found myself wondering, too, if there were any trees in her path.

  My thoughts drifted to Katie again, then back to the tree and what Rev. Rutledge was saying.

  Lord, I prayed silently as I sat there, I do ask You to make Katie’s coming be a good thing for all of us, especially for Pa. I want him to be happy and to do what he thinks is best. I pray that You’d make everything happen just like You want it to, and help me to be loving and to help Katie if I can, even though I didn’t like the idea of her coming at first. And help me to do like Mrs. Parrish says and trust You for everything, and to know You’ll make it for the best.

  After the service was over, we went slowly out, shaking the minister’s hand. He was all smiles to Katie, welcoming her to Miracle and telling her that Pa was a fine man and had a wonderful family. She smiled back and was pleasant, but recalling to mind what she’d said about ministers the night before, I wondered if the smile on her face was real, or just put there until church was over.

  I’d always heard folks say things to Rev. Rutledge as they shook his hand and went outside, “Fine sermon this morning, Reverend,” or maybe, “Your words blessed my soul, Reverend.” Mostly it was the older women who sometimes came who said things like that. But this morning as Rev. Rutledge took my hand and smiled at me, I suddenly found myself saying almost that very thing. “I want to thank you for what you said about the trees falling across our path, Rev. Rutledge,” I said. “I think that is going to help me with—with—”

  Suddenly my words dried up. I was embarrassed and hoped Uncle Nick behind me hadn’t heard.

  But Rev. Rutledge smiled broadly at me. “Are you saying there’s been a tree across your path, Corrie?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, I reckon that’s it.”

  “Well, just let the Lord help you get around it, and you can count on Him to set your feet down on an even better path than the first one.”

  “Thank you, sir,” I said. “I’ll remember that!”

  When I got outside and down the steps, Pa and Katie were already with Mrs. Parrish and the two women were shaking hands for the first time.

  “I am so happy to meet you at last,” said Mrs. Parrish warmly. “This is quite a man you’ve come to California to wed, Miss Morgan! One of this community’s leading citizens!”

  Pa mumbled something, but I didn’t hear it. Mrs. Parrish threw back her head and laughed.

  “Leading citizen, you say?” said Katie inquisitively.

  “Oh yes!” answered Mrs. Parrish, loving every second of putting Pa on the spot. “Why, the stories I could tell you!”

  “You don’t know nothing to tell about me!” exclaimed Pa. I couldn’t tell at first if he was riled, but then I realized he was just joining in the fun.

  “I would like to hear it all!” said Katie.

  “I had hoped to talk you all into coming over to my house this afternoon,” Mrs. Parrish went on, “so I could get to know Katie a little better. What do you say, Mr. Hollister?”

  “Mr. Hollister?” said Katie. “You know him as well as you say and you still address him so formally?”

  “He’s not given me leave to do otherwise,” responded Mrs. Parrish.

  “Surely, Drummond, if you allow me to call you by your given name after only one week, this lady who has been your friend so long deserves no less.”

  “You can call me whatever you like,” said Pa, not exactly getting upset now, but not liking it too much having two women talking about him.

  “Then, Drummond,” said Mrs. Parrish, “would you do me the honor of a visit this afternoon? Perhaps you could stop over now and we could have tea and coffee and some biscuits.”

  She drew his name out slowly, like she enjoyed saying it. “I’d like to have you for dinner one Sunday after church,” she went on, “but I’m sure you already have plans today.”

  “I have a lamb leg on the fire,” said Katie.

  “Well then, you’ll just have time for a nice visit and then you can go home to it.”

  Without any further discussion, in five or ten minutes, after Pa was through seeing and shaking hands with the other folks wanting to meet his mail-order bride, we were back in the wagon on our way to Mrs. Parrish’s.

  She must’ve been planning on us coming. She had several trays of crackers and little biscuits out, and she made coffee and tea and was very hospitable.

  Mrs. Parrish was our best friend in town. And now it seemed Mrs. Parrish wanted to make herself a friend to the newest member of the family, Katie Morgan.

  They chatted freely. “Every time a new woman joins the community,” said Mrs. Parrish, “I am so thrilled. When I first came, it sometimes seemed I went for weeks on end without seeing another one of our kind! Now at least the men don’t outnumber us more than twenty or thirty to one. And our numbers are growing fast!”

  After a while Mrs. Parrish got up. “Corrie,” she said to me, “I have something for you. Would you come into my room with me? We’ll just be a minute,” she said to the others. “You all go ahead and have something more to eat.”

  I got up and followed her.

  When we were in her room with the door closed, she turned and said with an expectant look, “Well?”

  “Well, what?
” I returned.

  “What do you think? How are things with Miss Morgan?”

  “Oh, fine, I reckon. She’s nice enough.”

  “She seems very nice, Corrie. I think you should be pleased.”

  “I’m trying to be, Mrs. Parrish. I prayed for her during church a while ago. But it still takes some getting used to.”

  “I know, dear. And it probably will for quite a while. But give the Lord time. Remember what I’ve always said, He not only brings good, He gives nothing but the best.”

  “You keep reminding me, and I’ll keep trying to believe it more.”

  She smiled. “That is a fair deal. I agree. But—here!” she reached toward a little package on her dresser, “this is what I brought you in to give you.” She handed it to me. It felt like a book.

  “It’s brand new—just published. I had it sent to me from a bookstore in San Francisco.”

  I unwrapped it. It was a book, bound in cloth, with the simple title Walden in gold across the cover, with the words underneath, and smaller, “Life in the Woods.”

  “I think you’ll like it,” she said. “It’s by a man named Henry David Thoreau. I’ve been following his writings for some years. When other men were fighting the Mexicans and discovering gold and making fortunes here in California, do you know what he did?”

  I shook my head.

  “Thoreau went out into the woods all by himself, taking virtually nothing, and lived alone by a lake near Concord, Massachusetts, called Walden Pond. Like you, he kept a journal, and this is the result.”

  She pointed toward the book. “Something tells me you and Thoreau have a lot in common, Corrie Belle Hollister. He loved nature, as you do. He found nature speaking to him. He discovered much about himself and about God’s world and his fellow man, all from his unique ability to find quiet and calmness within himself.

  “He was then able to hear voices speaking to him—God, nature, and his own inner being. And he possessed the God-given talent to make his thoughts and observations known. He reminds me of you, Corrie. I do not doubt that the world is going to know your name one day, and that you will be telling the world many things. Who knows—someday people may even be reading a book with your name on it!”

 

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