by Caryl McAdoo
“Why? If the Lord told him . . . The storm definitely rolled in right on time.”
“But you're all worried someone's going to get hurt though. And what if it doesn't happen exactly like he says? What if the twister comes south of the Red? Or someone dies? Then he'll be the laughing stock. But it'll be just as awful if it does. Folks would be lining up for him to tell them their future.”
“You're impossible.”
She carried the cutting board to the stove and raked the potatoes and onion into the boiling water. “Well, what'd you think about him not stuttering a lick when he said all that? I think he's a fraud.”
“Oh, Servilia, why do you always insist on being so negative? Do you not get it that however much mercy you give out is what you'll get back? Don't you need some grace and mercy?”
“What for? I haven't done anything wrong.”
Of its own accord her tongue tsk, tsk, tsked. “He says he has no control over it, that it only happens when the Lord moves on him. And only then.”
She shrugged then fetched the peas Lucy had shelled, adding them to the pot.
“Your hair is a mess. No wonder Earl refused to stay. Why, if some wayward traveler showed up needing shelter from the storm, I'd die of shame on the spot.”
The rain fell in sheets and the wind whipped though the treetops. Lucy combed her hair with her fingers and stared out the cracked front door. Though midday, the afternoon looked like evening.
Shame she couldn't see out the window, but with the cost of a pane of glass so high, it wasn't worth the exposure. She hoped upon hope God had heard her prayer.
Salt, pepper, butter, and cream went into the pot. Before too long, she ladled out two bowls to cool and got out the cornbread leftover from Sunday dinner. Two creeks lay between Harmony and Melody and home.
If they weren't already over their banks, they would be shortly if the rain kept up. Surely Melody knew she'd have to cross them to get home.
“Oh Lord, keep them safe.”
Servilia blew her first bite then looked up. “Come eat. They'll be fine. Zeke wouldn't let them head off without sending someone to check the crossings.”
“You think so?”
“Don't you? He's an intelligent man, even if he can't talk worth a flip. I'm not sure which one of the Parker sisters he's partial to, but I've never seen a man take to a child the way he's taken to our Harmony.
“He might marry you just to make that baby girl his own. She deserves such a man for her daddy. And you do, too—deserve such a man, I mean. For a husband.”
Sometimes, the girl could be so sweet and caring. Lucy loved her sister. When alone with Servilia, things usually went smooth as silk. If she could only bridle that sharp tongue, she talked too much.
What a shame that she was so jealous of Melody—and even Harmony to some extent. If only . . . so many if-onlys.
One thing sounded true though. Zeke wouldn't let the girls leave. She had to believe that. But then . . . that meant Melody would be there alone. All night. Unchaperoned.
Have mercy, Lord.
Who could curse the rain? Not Melody. Her sister, maybe; she hated chopping the weeds and grass that followed each soaking.
A little hand patted her cheek. She rolled to her side and kissed the tip of the baby's nose. Harmony pecked hers back then snuggled in tight.
'If only' nagged Melody while she waited for sleep, but it would never be, couldn't ever. Zeke had to marry Lucy, be Melody's daddy. The Lord would bring the right man along for her—but . . .
Her heart screamed to her soul that God already had, but she refused the notion. She'd not have it. Ezekiel Sheffield would marry her sister.
And that shattered everything: hope, the future, any chance for happiness, her peace, her heart.
Why did it hurt so bad?
As usual, she beat first light by two cock's crows, fumbled around until she located the lamp and matches, then dressed in the low light of the burning oil. She straightened the bed best she could around the little sleepyhead then returned the gown to the drawer in the bottom of Zeke's chifforobe.
Padding toward the kitchen in her socked feet, she found the man and two of his bigger boys at the table drinking coffee. “Morning.”
“Good day, ma'am.” The oldest student stood and offered his chair.
“Why thank you, kind sir.”
Zeke spelled out, 'Coffee'?
She flashed back, 'Thank you. Yes.'
It took all her will-power and then some. The Lord must have lent her extra to keep from staring at the man. Had she ever known anyone so kind or generous? Or Godly?
If only having morning coffee together could be the norm instead of a once-in-a-lifetime gift. Sleeping in the man's bed, wearing his mother's gown, sharing the breaking of the new day . . . Oh Lord.
She put the hopeless thought away. The die was cast. She could not—would not—break Harmony's heart, never mind the wedge it would drive between her and Lucy.
No. She refused to betray the two people she loved the most, no matter how strong her soul wanted . . .
A faint “reverend” sounded from the front of the house. Zeke jumped to his feet and hurried out, Melody and the two boys on his heels.
Outside, Mister Harvey held his horse's reins, looking rather sheepish.
Melody spoke up. “Good morning, sir.” She wanted to ask about his oak, but knew the answer already. Besides, it wasn't her place.
“Reverend. Sir, I been up all night asking the Lord to forgive me for being such a doubting Thomas. It all happened exactly like you said. I need to ask your forgiveness, too.”
He stuck his hand in his pocket and held up a finger-tall lead soldier. “I'd forgotten all about leaving this guy up in that tree, but here he is. I want you to have him.”
What a testimony. Zeke stepped off the porch then turned toward Melody and went to signing. Her eyes glued themselves to his beautiful hands then looked to Mister Harvey.
“He says yes, he forgives you. He'd be proud to keep the soldier, but . . .” She held a finger up, watched Zeke spell out more words then turned back. “He thinks it might be of more good on your mantel to remind you of God's love for you.”
Nodding, Mister Harvey wiped his cheeks. “He does. I know that for sure. Other than that old tree, nothing of mine was harmed, but oh, the wind and rain! Never seen nothing like it in all my born days. The family . . . we was all so scared. Should've heard it when the lightning hit that tree.”
The whole of Red River County lived though the same storm. She didn't need to hear his account or hear the oak splitting to believe. “Sir, the creek between here and your place, is it bad swollen?”
“Knee high, but it's dropping fast.” He looked from her to Zeke then back. “That why you're here? You stay the night?”
“Yes, sir. The kind reverend gave Harmony and me his bed and bunked with his boys.”
He nodded then backed up a step.
“We have hot coffee. Would you care for a cup?”
“Thank you, Miss Parker, but I best get on back home. I've got firewood to see to.” He laughed. “Lots of oak to cut and split.”
Moving forward, he extended his hand then shook Zeke's heartily. “I'll be bringing you a wagonload, too. For the school this winter.”
Twice Zeke sent scouts to check on the two creeks she'd have to cross, then rode out with her himself after dinner just to be certain she and Harmony could cross without incident. Could he be more thoughtful?
Could any child love a man more than her baby girl loved Ezekiel?
Why did doing the right thing have to hurt so bad?
All and all, the storm hadn't wrought much damage. From what Lucy could see, the cotton fared well enough. A few flowers, blown here and there to the ground, perished in the pelting, but not all, and time left for more blooms.
“Oh Father, bless this earth and these healthy plants with a bumper crop.”
How many times had she prayed that prayer?
Praise the Lord, she and the sisters had finished the chopping. With so much moisture in the ground, there would surely be enough for the bolls to set well. The Word said the prayers of a righteous man availeth much, and Papa said that included women, too. What a contradiction he'd been. Loving the Lord and so familiar with His Word, yet he still blamed Melody for killing Mama.
So ready to march off to war. Free to legally kill Yankees. No matter he'd never owned a slave in his life.
From the cotton patch, she headed toward the barn. That morning's milking revealed no apparent damage, but in the lantern light, she might easily have missed something. With the new day's sun climbing over the treetops, she wanted a better look.
“Hey there.”
She stopped short of her goal and turned. Earl Draper's gelding loped toward her. The man grinned as though he'd recently struck gold, except everyone knew not a nugget could be found in all of Texas outside a jeweler's shop.
“Hey yourself, Earl. I see you weathered the storm. Did your place suffer any damage?”
Reining his mount to a rather abrupt stop, he boosted himself off without benefit of stirrup. She'd never seen the man act so . . . so . . . Rather rakish behavior for a farmer.
“No, ma'am, not a bit. Everything's fine and dandy. Especially now that I've laid eyes on you and know you're safe. Is Servilia well? Did Melody and your daughter return home yet? Their well-being concerned you so. Have you heard if the creek’s passable?”
“No, I fear not. I've seen no wagons coming from DeKalb. A few riders, but I didn't hail any of them.”
He grinned. “You should have seen it. Happened exactly like that new preacher said. Since I could get no wetter, I rode on out to the river and saw it with my own eyes.
“This monster twister came right up and stalked the Red's bank, back and forth like looking for a way across, but I suppose God Himself held it back with His own hand.”
What in the world? Such boldness in the man she'd never witnessed.
“Oh, Earl! Why would you do such a thing? That was so dangerous.”
“But I'd heard the man well as you. That there'd be no life lost. Had no fear for myself. None at all.” He ducked his head for a bit then looked up, suddenly back to his sheepish self.
“Well, I said to myself, what if those nasty winds from that tornado caused you any damage? It was blowing like I ain't never seen, Lucy, and I . . .”
“Nothing more than a few blossoms lost. I was going to inspect the barn.”
“It came on me sudden like. I mean with all the wind . . . I had to be certain. Headed out before first light. About broke my fool leg getting saddled up to . . .” He ducked his head again, all his fingers circling the rim of his hat.
“To what, Earl?”
Straightening suddenly to his full height, he filled his lungs and looked her in the eye. “See, the thing is . . . I've been in love with you forever, Lucy, since we were kids, but you only had eyes for Jake, and I knew it.
“Truth is, I loved him, too. Best friend a body could ever have. If I'd thought I had a chance, I would have fought him for you, but it doesn't work that way and...” His lips clamped shut.
“Oh Earl.”
“Well, I would ask your Pap if he was still alive, but he ain't. But here it is, Lucy. I don't want to see you on Sundays or whenever you got some favor needs doing.” He knelt and held his hand out. “Marry me, Lucy. Make me the happiest man in all of Texas.”
“Earl, get up.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I said so. This is . . . it's too sudden. I never knew . . . Why haven't you said something before?”
“Well.” He rose slowly, head bobbing up and down, then looked around. “Suppose I figured you'd never . . . I mean, the storm got me to thinking. What if something happened to you? My concern for you, your safety . . . guess it gave me gumption, but you've said no, so now I've gone and ruined everything.”
“I most certainly have not said no. I only said to get up. You've ruined nothing, Earl Draper. I'm quite flattered by your proposal.”
“So you will then? We can go talk to Preacher this afternoon when your girls get home.”
The hat went to whirling through his fingers again. “Might as well . . . if you want. I mean, can't do much of anything in the fields. It being so wet and all.”
“Slow down, Mister Draper.” She grinned. Why hadn't he come sooner? Jake had been gone over two years. “How about we agree that you'll come courting? We can talk things over for a while. See if getting married is what we really want to do. Plus . . .” She moved closer toward him. “There's a fly in the ointment.”
“What would that be?”
“Harmony.”
“What about her? I think she likes me well enough. Don't hide behind your skirts or nothing when I'm around, like with most men.”
“True. But you see, she's fallen head over heels in love with Zeke. Clearly wants him to be her daddy.”
The sight of home thrilled Melody. All the hugs and kisses warmed her heart, too. Once the mules were tended, plenty of questions started over a bowl of potato soup.
“Any damage to the school?”
“Not much, a few branches blown down here and there. Zeke thinks maybe a shingle or two might need replacing. About what we got here from the looks of things.”
Servilia grinned. “Why didn't you turn around once the storm blew up? You knew it was coming. We all did. Everyone heard what he said at church Sunday.”
“Oh, now you believe.” Melody gave her sister an I-wasn't-talking-to-you glare then faced Lucy. “It didn't start until we got there. Wasn't sure what to do, but Zeke said we should stay, so . . .”
“Of course, he—”
“Doesn't look to me like you slept in your clothes, baby sister. Whatever did you do for a gown?”
Why did she have to be so vile? “If you must know, I wore one of his mother's nightshirts. Harmony and I slept in his room.”
She turned to the one she loved. “He insisted on bunking with the boys, so . . .” She looked to baby girl next to her. “If you don't believe me, ask Harmony where we spent the night. She'll tell you.”
“Did you lose your mind as well?”
“What does that supposed to mean?”
“We all know she can't hear or talk. You know perfectly well what I meant.”
Melody's fists balled, but another fight with Servilia wouldn't do. It'd only serve to make her loud-mouthed sister think she was right. “Of course, you're wrong on both accounts.” She scooted sideways and touched Melody's shoulder.
Her fingers went to dancing, spelling a few common words for the child, then leaned back, waiting for her answer.”
Took a little time, but three misspelled words later, the four-year-old confirmed the sleeping arrangements.
Servilia shook her head. “All that finger flapping could mean anything.”
A sudden clap of thunder startled Melody, and she jumped. Lucy had slapped the table.
“That's enough, Vili! Melody did nothing wrong and you will stop insinuating that she did this minute. Do you hear me?”
Inhaling a deep breath, Servilia offered no answer, just stared at the eldest.
“And one more thing. If you have any inclination to know what's going on in this house, you best be learning to flap your fingers a little.
“This baby cannot help her afflictions, but she is sharp as a tack and is learning at a faster pace than all of Zeke's other students. I will not have you degrade her or her teacher or what he teaches! Signing is the best thing to come into our lives—ever!”
“Fine. You're the head of our little family, so . . .” Servilia hiked her shoulders as if she still didn't believe, but knew she had no recourse.
“If we can move on, how about you tell us why Earl Draper came over this morning. He leave a tool or something?”
Melody turned her attention to Lucy. What was afoot?
“Well, if you must know, he uh . . .”
She grinned. Her faced flushed, then her shoulders scrunched. “He took a knee, actually, and well . . .”
A silly little chuckle escaped, as if her big sister was a school girl again. “Asked me to marry him.”
“He did what? Marry Him! Oh, Lucy!” A ray of hope bloomed in Melody's heart. “What did you tell him?”
She snickered. “To get up.”
“That's just mean, Lucy!” Servilia threw her hands into the air. “You know how shy he is! He'll not ask again.”
“How nice of you to think of his feelings, Sister.” Melody could hardly believe it might be true. If she could only have the opportunity to . . . fall in love freely . . . with . . . Dare she even imagine?
“You may be right. It was a reaction, I suppose. I never dreamed that's what was coming! Anyway, he also immediately took it as a no, but I nipped that in the bud and told him to come courting. That we could talk about it, and how he'd surprised me, it being so sudden and all. Besides—”
“Besides what? Has Zeke said anything?” Oh, why had she blurted that? Mercy.
“Ezekiel? No. Why would he? He doesn't know. Or did he say something about it? Had Earl spoken with him?”
“No. He hasn't said anything. I only . . .” She didn't know what to say about her outburst, but thankfully, her sister saved her by going on.
“My 'besides' was that I wouldn't consider marrying anyone without praying it through. I mean, we'd have to work out things. Particulars, you know, like would he live here? Or Harmony and I go there? How could I abandon—”
“Well, I'm certainly not moving.” Servilia leaned back. “This is my home, and if you marry Mister Draper, then I'll be the oldest.”
Oooo. Melody hated the sound of that. Where would she go? No way could she live with Vili; there'd surely be a fight every other day.
“We are neighbors, we could join the two places. Build a grand house that we could all live in. Or . . . Jake did live here with us before . . .” She stopped herself, no need to mention the dead.