The Secret of Fair Hill: A Refuge in Fair Hill Book 2

by Faith Cummings

  "I might have a few if I thought about it." I said.

  "Well, if thee does, let me know and I'll do my best to answer them."

  I said I would and took a lighted candle from his hand. "I almost forgot this," I added. "I can't read without light." He took another from near the stairs and lit it from mine for himself.

  "I know," he agreed as we went up together. "I like to read a little too before sleep." "What do you read?" I wanted to know.

  "Sometimes the Bible, sometimes the same books thee is reading."

  I wished him goodnight and entered my room.

  The following morning, the family was up extra early so that we could have a leisurely breakfast before going to Meeting. The ground was covered in deep snow. But it had stopped snowing and it wasn't blowing. When we came from the house, ready to go to Meeting, Paul and Andrew were waiting beside the sleigh. I accepted Paul's help to climb into the sleigh. There were warm woolen blankets to wrap up in and we were all soon cozy as we started for the Meetinghouse in the village.

  "I am getting spoiled by all this warm wool," I said as we rode along.

  "Thee needs a cloak made from it," he pointed out seeing my old winter cloak. "That one is all right, but a new one would be better."

  "I'll see if there's any cloth about for one," Amy put in, seeing the cloak and hearing her son's words. "I'm sure we can find something."

  "If thee doesn't mind gray," Lisbeth added. "I think that's the only color we have." "The color has nothing to do with how warm it is." Paul said "It doesn't have to be fancy."

  "No, it doesn't," I agreed. We soon drove in to the little village. I saw Doc Wilson's office and remembered my first night in Fair Hill. It had been so good of him to shelter me there. We stopped among other sleighs and buggies. People were entering the meetinghouse quietly in their best clothes.

  "Lisbeth, go with Barbara in to Meeting," Andrew told his daughter. "Sit with Lyddy and Betsy." Lisbeth walked beside me into the Meetinghouse. When we got inside, I saw why Andrew had told his daughter to go with me. The women sat on one side of the room, the men on the other. Lisbeth led me to a bench where two other young women about my age were sitting. One of them had dark hair and was short and slightly plump. She had a warm, kind face and dark brown eyes. She was not what I would call pretty but there was something about her I liked. The other girl was also small but thin. She was dressed very poorly in ill fitting clothes. She wore old shoes that should have been discarded long before. Her light brown hair was tidily braided and wound about her head. The bonnet she wore was old and faded. Her smile was brief but sunny as Lisbeth and I approached. She took my hand and drew me down beside her on the bench. The other girl reached across and clasped my hand.

  "We'll talk after worship," she whispered in the stillness. I nodded briefly and entered the silence about me. I couldn't help wondering which of these two was Paul's future wife. I decided I was going to like them both very much. This Meeting for Worship was much different from the ones at the Becker farm. For one thing, there were many more people. I guessed that the entire community of Fair Hill was present here. The silence was charged with a power that caught me up immediately. I felt as if someone was taking the stress from my shoulders as I sat there. It was as if gentle hands were touching me, taking from me all the tension and worry of the past few months. I was immersed in a soothing feeling I had never before experienced. What was this? How was this possible? I had never been here before, yet it felt as if I had been a part of this group all my life. What was this force surrounding me, holding me, lifting me? When someone spoke I was startled for a moment and flinched a little. The girl beside me put a gentle hand over my folded ones. It was as if she was urging me to quiet my mind and open my heart to whatever the speaker was saying. I was even further surprised to hear that it was Paul who spoke. I noted now that he was sitting on a bench that faced the others. There were others sitting with him. Now, he was standing and reading from the book he had lent me a few days before:

  "...When all my hopes in them and in all men were gone, so that I had nothing outwardly to help me, nor could tell what to do, then, Oh then, I heard a voice which said, "There is one, even Christ Jesus, that can speak to thy condition," and when I heard it my heart did leap for joy. Then the Lord did let me see why there was none upon the earth that could speak to my condition, namely that I might give him all the glory; for all are concluded under sin, and shut up in unbelief as I had been, that Jesus Christ might have the preeminence, who enlightens, and gives grace, and faith and power." When he finished the passage, he put the book aside and looked out at the assembled Meeting. "I call us all to hear and think hard about what George Fox experienced here." He was saying. "In our day to day lives, working on the farms or in the village, we become very self-reliant." "Wasn't that what people were supposed to do?" I thought. "But that's not what George Fox is urging us to remember." Paul insisted. "He found that only Jesus Christ could speak to his condition. What makes us think that we can speak to our own?" What makes us believe that we can be even as self-reliant as he was? We all need Jesus in our lives and hearts. Without Him, we are nothing. Without Him, we can do nothing. Fox goes on to tell in a later passage of an ocean of love and light that overcame the ocean of darkness and death. Let's make Fair Hill a place where that ocean of love and Light is seen by the world! Let's open ourselves to God's healing, renewing power!" He sat again and silence fell in the crowded room. "This ocean of love and light," I thought with growing excitement. "Was that what I had been feeling? Was that what this wonderful power being born within me was all about?" I listened avidly as others spoke of the same thing and as passage after passage from the Bible confirmed in me the truth of what they said. Jesus could and would come to me personally! He wasn't just someone to read about in the Bible or hear someone preach about on Sundays. He was real, alive and there for me! How could I reach him? What did I have to do to get to Him? I must ask Paul about it later. After Meeting ended with the shaking of hands all round, the two young women beside me introduced themselves. The one who had sat beside me was Betsy Olsen, Paul's future wife. The other was Lydia McIntyre whom everyone called Lyddy. She was going to marry Michael Hansen at the same time that Paul and Betsy would marry.

  "I've heard both of your names often," I said, glad to have finally met them.

  "Doc told us about thee too," Lydia said "we're glad thee has come to Fair Hill." "Thee can come to dinner, Can't thee, Betsy?" Lisbeth asked.

  "I'll have to ask my father, but I imagine I can." Betsy agreed. "I haven't talked with Paul in two weeks."

  "And we all know thee can't go very long without doing that," Lydia teased.

  "Not any longer than thee can go without seeing Mike," Betsy teased back, beckoning to a stocky, sandy-haired young man. "So I'll get him for thee." She added as he detached himself from a group of people and came toward us. He greeted Lydia with affection. "I hate snow storms that keep us all from Meeting," he said, his face reddened as he saw us watching them.

  "Yes, we all agree with thee," Betsy said laughing. "Where did Paul go?"

  "He's probably in the library looking for books to read," Lisbeth said. "Thee'll have to tear him away from them, Betsy." She left us then to go and look for Paul.

  "And this is Barbara Scott," Lydia said to Mike, remembering that we had not met.

  "I figured thee was," Mike said, shaking my hand. "Welcome to Fair Hill. I hope thee is happy here."

  "Yes, very happy," I said. "Thank you."

  "Bets has gotten an invitation to the Beckers for dinner," Lydia beamed, her eyes full of teasing laughter. "Does thee think we could get one too?"

  "I think we might. All we have to do is show up." Mike said.

  "The two of thee know there is no need for an invitation for either one of thee." Lisbeth said.

  "But Bets needs one because she's practically family?" Lydia asked. Lisbeth made a face at her. "Thee is just a tease!" She said with mock exasperation. "I only sa
id that because she won't come without one like the two of thee will."

  Mike looked serious for a moment. "No," he began. "And there's something going on there. I don't know what it is, but I know there's something."

  "What makes thee say that?" Lydia asked with concern. It was evident to me that these young people were all very close friends.

  "After Meeting, the first thing I do is look for thee." Mike spoke quietly, all trace of merriment gone from his face now. "But Betsy stands and talks to thee and Barbara and Libs. And Paul, well, I imagine he was in the library." "Does thee think they're avoiding one another?" Lydia seemed surprised.

  "I don't think so," I found myself saying. "Paul was very unhappy that they had to miss seeing one another because of the snow last weekend."

  "Then why aren't they together even now?" Mike pointed out. Betsy was coming back toward us alone. She reached us and told Lisbeth that she wouldn't be there for dinner that day. Then, without another word, she turned and walked out of the Meetinghouse. "How does thee explain that?" Mike wanted to know.

  "I'm sure we'll be told at the proper time," Lydia responded. We all started toward the sleighs and buggies outside. Betsy walked slowly to the buggy belonging to her father without speaking to the others.

  "What's going on?" Mike demanded of Paul as he joined us, coming from the other direction.

  "What?"

  "Thee knows what I mean. What's going on with thee and Bets?"

  "I don't know." Was the terse reply. "She won't tell me."

  "She went to look for thee," objected Mike. "What does thee mean she won't tell thee?"

  "Look, Mike, I don't know any more than thee does. All I know is that she found me in the library but said she couldn't come to the farm and we couldn't talk about it."

  "That makes no sense. Isn't thee curious?"

  "Yes, rather curious, Lyddy, but I can't get any answers from her."

  "When she left us, she said she was coming if her father would let her. She was going to tell thee so." Lisbeth explained.

  "Well, Libs, evidently, between seeing thee and seeing me, she saw her father and he said no."

  "But why would he tell her no? You're going to be married soon!"

  "Barbara, thy question is one I've been asking myself for ten minutes. But since I have no way of getting the answer, I'm going to stop asking." He was evidently angry. "Bets doesn't want to talk to me for some reason so I'll let her be."

  "I think thee should find out the reason," Mike warned.

  "I will, but not here. I'll go to her later this afternoon and find out what's happening." "Good," Lydia said with relief. "I'm glad thee isn't just dropping the whole thing." "Lyddy, this is the woman I love we're talking about here," he reminded her. "I'm not dropping anything."

  "If the five of thee are coming, thee should hurry," Andrew called from the sleigh. "We're leaving. “We went to join the family. The meal was made lively with the chatter of the young people. I noticed that Paul was very quiet and seemed preoccupied. I wished I could do or say something to help him. He sat beside me, but did not eat with his usual hearty appetite.

  "Thee should eat something, dear," Amy warned as he refused a second helping.

  "I have eaten something, Mother," he said. "Just not as much as I ordinarily do." "Saving room for cake?" Lisbeth asked as she cleared the dishes for dessert.

  "I'll have a piece later, Libs," he said absently. "I'll be back in a little while."

  "Mike and Lyddy are here to see thee," Amy objected as he rose from the table. "Mike and Lyddy understand," was all he said as he closed the door behind him.

  "What happened?" Andrew asked.

  "Something's going on with him and Bets," Mike explained.

  "What is it?"

  "I don't exactly know, Uncle Andrew, but it's serious."

  "I guess it must be for him to just leave like that."

  "He won't be long, I don't imagine," Lydia said. "I just hope he brings Bets back with him."

  "I thought she was coming for dinner," Amy said, confused.

  "So did she, but for some reason, she didn't."

  "It doesn't make sense," Andrew said pensively. "I don't understand." After the table was cleared and the dishes washed, Mike and Lyddy went with me to sit on the front porch. The afternoon was pleasant and we wanted to enjoy the good weather while it lasted. We seated ourselves comfortably around the porch and I spoke.

  "I wonder if I might ask a couple of questions," I ventured.

  "What about?" Mike wanted to know. "If it's Paul and Bets, I'm afraid we don't know any more than thee does."

  "No, it's about Friends, uh about what you believe."

  Lyddy's smile was full of understanding. "It must be very strange for thee here," she said gently. "How can we help?"

  "Paul spoke about this ocean of love and Light and I've read that passage from the journal. Today in Meeting though, I think I actually experienced it. What do I have to do to get that kind of peace? What do I have to do to get Jesus to accept me?"

  "That's not how it works, Barbara." Mike said simply. "Thee doesn't have to get Jesus to accept thee. He already has. He loves thee just as thee is. Thee just has to accept Him into thy life. And to accept His grace."

  "What's grace, Mike?"

  "It's undeserved love. It's not something we can earn. We just have to take it. It's like a gift He's holding out to us. All we have to do is reach out and take it. And the more we take, the more He gives. Also, the more we understand, the more He gives us to understand."

  "But I have so many questions."

  "We can't know everything now, Barbara, but when we meet Him face to face, he'll tell us the rest." Lyddy assured me.

  "But thee can ask thy questions. Perhaps they aren't the kind we can't know the answers for now." Mike suggested.

  "No, some of them aren't that kind," I agreed. "I'd like to know why you do some things you do."

  "Like what?"

  "You dress very simply and your houses are very simply furnished and, well there's a lot I don't understand."

  "Like the way we talk and why our meetings for worship are as they are?" Lyddy put in.

  "Yes, things like that."

  "We believe that once a person becomes a Christian, the change in their life should be seen in their lifestyle. We are pacifists because we believe that God, through His Holy Spirit, has taken away the occasion for war. That's how George Fox puts it." Mike explained.

  "Yes, I've read that." "So being against all violence is an outcome of this belief." "We believe that all people are equal in the sight of God," Lyddy began. "So we allow any man, woman or child who has a spiritual gift to minister to us during worship. Our ministers are not paid because they are members of the Meeting just like us. Also, the Bible says that the Gospel is free and should be freely given. We use this kind of speech because we believe it is much more equalizing. Consequently, We don't believe in titles. We live simply and dress simply because we don't want to be caught up in things. That keeps us from centering our lives on God. Does that help?"

  "Yes, thanks. I have a lot to think about."

  "Thee might pray about it too, Barbara," Mike urged. "Then thee can reach clearness about what thee believes."

  "I haven't prayed since my parents died," I began and found myself pouring out the whole story to them.

  "Thee must work through this thyself," Mike told me quietly when I had finished. "We will keep thee in prayer though, won't we Lyddy?"

  "Yes, and if thee needs to talk, just come and see either of us."

  "You don't think I'm awful for saying I'm not sure I believe?"

  "We all have uncertainties," Mike said. "But thee said earlier that thee felt that ocean of love and Light. If thee is so sure that thee doesn't believe, where did that come from? Next time thee feels it, give in to it and let it carry thee. Then thee will understand." I had no response for this and the subject was changed. We were still sitting on the front porch when Paul arrived home.


  "So what's the news?" Mike asked as he dismounted from his horse and stood by the porch steps.

  "No news. There was no one at the farm when I got there. For some reason, she's being kept from seeing me."

  "That's nonsense!"

  "How else does thee explain it, Hansen?" Paul asked, his anger rising again. "I'm not making this up."

  "I know. I'm sorry. "I don't mean to make things worse. "Maybe Lyddy can go and talk to her tomorrow and tell thee what she says."

  "I'll go if thee thinks it'll help," Lydia offered.

  "Yes, she might talk to thee," Paul agreed knowing that she and Betsy were close friends.

  "Then I'll go," Lydia promised. "Now put up thy horse and come and join us here." He did so and returned to sit beside me on a bench that Andrew had built for the porch. "Is thee warm enough out here?" He asked me as he seated himself.

  "Yes, I borrowed a cloak from your mother."

  "Meeting was good this morning," Mike commented to change the subject.

  "Yes, but I'm a bit concerned." Paul said. "I just hope the unhealthy influences that have split so many other Meetings don't reach Fair Hill."

  "What unhealthy influences?" I wanted to know.

  "It seems that some Quakers are starting to hire ministers and ask them to preach from written sermons on First Day. They have hymns and certain planned Scripture readings just like the Methodist Church."

  "I thought George Fox was against that." I said puzzled.

  "He was. And many Friends still are. We don't believe in hired clergy or planned worship. Why some of them are putting mourner's benches in their meetinghouses!" "That's those who have been influenced by the traveling preachers from the Holiness Churches." Mike added. "I've heard about it too. But those of us who believe in the true Friend's vision must work doubly hard to keep it alive." Paul agreed.

  "Is there anyone living in Fair Hill who isn't a member of the Meeting?" I asked. "Very few. Doc Wilson isn't a Friend and I never have been too sure about the Murphys." Paul answered. I saw a flicker of anger in his eyes before he covered it with a brief smile. "Does a person have to be a Quaker to live here permanently?" "No, but there's no other place of worship here."