Susanna looked at him in disgust. All this concern doesn’t seem to have affected your appetite, she thought.
“I don’t trust any of those varmints that came here last night,” Luke continued. “They may come back next time and start shooting.”
“One had a gun on him, too!” Henry added. “I saw it.”
“Well, I don’t want Susanna to be involved in the tours any longer,” Mother added. “It’s too dangerous for a young lady.”
Susanna lifted her head at this comment. “Mother?”
“I wish you to stay inside the hotel. We have seen the ruffians and rogues lurking around. It’s too dangerous to have you speaking with the visitors or helping with the tours. For all we know, those men might come back again, maybe even disguised as some visitors, and they might try to harm you. They are of an evil sort.”
She recalled Jared’s concern for good and not evil. “Mother, Jared said they aren’t planning anything evil. They are only concerned about more people being hurt by living in the cave.”
“Jared!” Luke announced. “Who’s Jared?”
Suddenly all eyes were focused on her. She set down her biscuit and dropped her head. A rush of warmth filled her cheeks.
“Susanna’s going courtin’,” Henry said in glee.
Her cheeks flushed even deeper. “Henry, shush. I am not. I don’t even know the man.”
“You know him enough to mention his name and his words,” Luke added, picking up another biscuit.
“Maybe you should tell us about this young man, Susanna,” Papa said, staring at her. “Was he with the men who came the other evening?”
“Yes. His name is Jared Edwards, and he told me they only wanted to make sure no one else dies inside the cave. And he asked me to help.”
“Man alive!” Luke cried, throwing the biscuit on his plate. “Help him do what?”
“Help him close the cave, I think.”
“What?” Her parents and brothers shook their heads in dismay. “Why would some varmint be asking you to help close down the cave?” Luke demanded.
Susanna flushed, wondering if she should mention the flowers that she had given for the burial of Jared’s aunt and how the gesture had somehow stirred them both. Instead, she shrugged and said, “I don’t know.”
Luke sat back in his seat with a thud. “Papa, this is worse than we thought. Now they are sending no good varmints like this Jared to set designs on Susanna and use her against us!”
“You aren’t to leave this hotel without a chaperone, Susanna,” Mother added, her voice rising.
“Mother, really. He means no harm.”
“He certainly does!” Luke shouted. “He wants to put us out of business. And he wants to use you to do his evil work. Don’t you care in the least what this man is trying to do?”
Susanna felt frustration rising within her. She came to her feet, throwing her napkin on the table. “None of what you say is true,” she said, her voice trembling. “The man just lost his aunt. He wants to see people safe. And you treat him and all the rest of them like common criminals.”
“They are criminals if they’re trying to close down Dr. Croghan and the cave,” Luke returned. “That was no pleasant howdy-do they were offering the other night. Those men were bent on seeing us put down, by violence if necessary.”
She felt it again. A jab in the ribs, a poke in the arm, a kick in the shin. Her dear brother, making her life miserable once more. Wasn’t working here at the cave supposed to have solved their troubles? Did they really find freedom and life here in this place? For Susanna, she found herself drowning once more in a sea of disappointment and no one seemed to care. Life here was no different than on the farm long ago, except that she had nicer dresses and bonnets and a long dining table covered with a bounty of good food. Her happiness was only on the outside—nothing on the inside, in her heart where the need was greatest. Never did anything appear so real to her as at that moment.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Luke pressed, interrupting her contemplation. “Either you agree to stand with us, or you’re a traitor.”
“Luke!” Mother exclaimed, aghast.
She stared at each of her family members, and they returned her stare. Slowly she sat back down and took up her napkin, yet inside her heart festered like an open wound.
“That’s better,” Papa said with a smile. “There will be no more talk of this. Dr. Croghan has everything in good order. I will abide by your mother’s wishes, Susanna, and have you here helping with the ladies. Henry and Luke can assist Mr. Miller with the guests.”
“So now I must stay shut up in the hotel like a prisoner?” Susanna demanded. “What crime have I done? All I did was listen to a grieving soul. Isn’t that the Christian thing to do?”
“You’re already in league with the likes of this Edwards,” Luke snarled. “He’s causing you to turn against us. And you of all people, Susanna, sitting there in your fine dress. Where would any of us be unless we had the cave and our work here? Would you rather we be digging up rocks and living in a one-room cabin? Perhaps Mother should find that ratty calico you used to wear to make you see reason rather than listening to the dribble of some hateful farmer who wants to see us all destroyed.”
Susanna pressed her lips shut. As much as she wanted to rebuke her brother, nothing she could say or do would change anyone’s mind. Her words would only fall on deaf ears, as they seemed to do in recent days. The change had to come from God alone.
After breakfast, Susanna wandered out to the field nearby. There she spent time gathering lilies, the same flowers used in the bouquet she had given to Jared. There was something beautiful about the flowers, with their rich petals arranged to drink deeply of the sun’s rays. Pressing a lone flower against her heart, she returned to the hotel and her room where her Bible lay on the table. She pressed the flower between the pages of her Bible near a verse in the Song of Solomon that read, “Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm. . .”
Is this our covenant and our seal, Jared? she wondered. This flower? Our tying bind that has brought us together, even if we are worlds apart in what we believe to be true?
❧
It didn’t take long for the rooms of the hotel to close in around Susanna. Her heart yearned for the freedom of the woods and even the gust of cold air from the cave’s entrance. Seeing the visitors that still came, even with news of the neighboring folk who were angry with Dr. Croghan, made her yearn to help. They were of a curious lot, looking not only for a wonder to behold but to see the place that brought so much attention. Some commented about the night the men appeared. Others asked if the cave would now close. Papa and Mr. Miller vehemently denied that would happen.
None of it mattered to Susanna, who quickly grew bored by her new routine. She wandered about the rooms, her spirit as restless as wildflowers caught in a fierce wind. She felt the petals of her spirit torn asunder by all these goings-on in her life. How dare Luke tell her she was a traitor just because she had given away a bit of her heart to someone in need? Had they all become so callous and unfeeling in this place that they couldn’t pity another? Isn’t that why Dr Croghan built the cottages inside the cave in the first place? To help? Or had he done it only for his own good fortune and name, forsaking the invalids for selfish gain?
The more Susanna considered this, the more she thought that, perhaps, she should see for herself what was going on inside the cave. Though Mother had forbidden it, Susanna didn’t see any reason why she couldn’t look inside. Perhaps it might settle things in her mind. She was desperate for peace in a time that had seen nothing but turmoil and confusion.
While Mother was busy doing some embroidery, Susanna slipped out a side door of the hotel. She caught sight of Martha, who lingered by the door and inquired if Susanna needed anything.
“I’m only going out for a bit of air,” Susanna told her. “You needn’t tell Mother I’ve left.”
Martha opened her mouth to quest
ion her, then nodded. “Jes be back soon, Miss Susanna. Don’t want no fussin’ from yer mammy now. She be real mad.”
“Just pretend you never saw me.” She nodded curtly and hurried outside.
A small group of people milled about in front of the hotel, Luke among them. The last tour of the day had just finished, and as usual, the visitors were full of exclamations over what they had seen. Drawing in a deep breath to summon her courage, Susanna slipped past the group and down the wide path through the grove of trees, heading for the cave’s entrance. From afar, she could hear the trickle of water pouring into the mouth of the cave as if heaven itself were giving the place a drink. A breath of cool dampness brushed her face. The cave’s interiors brought forth an eerie feeling. Pausing on a rise just above the opening, she suddenly realized she had no lantern. Without a means of light, she would not be able to venture far before daylight gave way to total darkness.
Sighing, Susanna retraced her steps up the path. Beyond the hotel lay the cemetery. All at once, she caught sight of a shadowy figure hunched over one of the tombstones. Her heart raced. Drawing closer, she could make out the form of a man, his apparel too worn and disheveled for him to be one of the wealthy and refined hotel patrons.
Despite her apprehension, Susanna stepped forward. Leaves crunched beneath her slippers. “Hello?” Her voice echoed through the narrow valley. Susanna paused, startled by the loudness of her own voice, and glanced around to make certain no one from the hotel was in a position to overhear her. Seeing no one on the hotel grounds, she summoned her courage and called out once more to the man in the cemetery. “Hello?”
He never even turned to look her way but kept his vigil at the grave. A chill swept over her. She should leave and return to the hotel where she belonged, but the sadness surrounding the person made her stay.
At last, he turned toward her, but his face and form remained hidden in the evening shadows. “It’s me,” he said. “Jared Edwards.”
Jared! His voice had echoed in her mind since the night they talked. He had come to visit his aunt’s grave and, perhaps, to nurse his feelings of depression and disillusionment. He stepped forward wearing homespun pants, muddy from the fields, a rumpled shirt, and suspenders. His hat lay low over his head. From where she stood, she could see the shocks of brown hair poking out from beneath the hat. Beard stubble shadowed his chin. He certainly wasn’t anything to look at. No appearance of a gentleman. Nothing of outward value. And his inner spirit emanating only sadness.
“Have you thought about what I said the other night?” he asked. “About helping me close the cave?”
“I am sorry about your aunt, but closing down the cave won’t bring her back.”
She turned and suddenly felt his hand on her arm, grasping it in a firm hold. Screams clogged her throat. She looked toward the hotel. No one was in sight. Dear God, help me!
“I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice husky. “I only want to make you understand.” Just as quickly, he released her and set his hat back on his head. His walnut-colored eyes gazed at her.
“We’ve had this conversation already, Mr. Edwards. There is nothing else I can say or do. As it is, I’m already suffering for having spoken to you the other night.”
“What do you mean?”
She opened her mouth, ready to spill out her own pain, the rebuke of her family, the scorn of her brother Luke. “It’s nothing.”
He stood silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”
She stepped back, startled by the suddenness of the question. “Susanna. Susanna Barnett.”
“Susanna.” The name rolled of his tongue. She liked the way his deep voice said it, much to her chagrin. “Susanna, I believe this cave is a danger to you, your family, and everyone else. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it. How much more grief must come from this place for you to see what I mean? How many more people have to die? But you do nothing.”
She bristled. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Edwards, that I have done far more to help you than you could possibly realize.” If only he could know.
His face softened to a tender expression at these words, as if he had suddenly found a comrade in battle.
“What I mean is, I understand that you are grieving for your aunt’s death,” she went on. “I believe that we all should bear one another’s burdens in times like this, as scripture says.”
He blew out a fine breath. “So you do understand. Only God could have given you a heart of mercy.” He stepped forward. “In your heart you must want to help.”
“Mr. Edwards, I will not help close down the cave, if that’s what you mean.”
Her forceful rebuke appeared to stagger him. “But you just spoke about bearing one another’s burdens?”
“I said only that I understood your loss. That doesn’t mean I agree with what you or your uncle wish to do here. I’m sorry.”
A shadow of disappointment crossed his face. “I’m sorry, too, Miss Barnett. I can tell you are a fine woman, but this cave has taken possession of you like everyone else. It’s made you all prisoners.”
She gaped at him. “It most certainly has not. . .”
He continued. “It’s hard to break free from a place like that. But you have to see with your heart instead of your eyes. ‘All things are lawful for me, but I will not be brought under the power of any.’ ” He turned, gazing at the narrow hollow that led to the cave’s entrance. “This place has a power unlike anything I’ve seen. Even I was taken in by it at first. I thought it was a place for the miraculous and surrendered my aunt to its care. But I’ve seen the end result. Death to everything I know.”
“I’m sorry for that, but life still goes on, Jared. It has to. Jesus even said, ‘Let the dead bury their dead.’ So you need to stop burying your aunt and start living again.”
When she caught his gaze, his eyes looked wild, like some wounded animal. He paused, shook his head, turned, and then took off into the woods. Susanna stood for many moments. Though the words had stung, it only made her wonder more about him. If only she could understand him—and he, her. Could that ever be possible?
Six
He shut his eyes against his inner pain. How could a beautiful woman like that be so unfeeling? Where was the graceful doe he’d witnessed that terrible day, the one who gathered the flowers for his aunt’s burial, the one who sympathized with his circumstances? How could she say things that hurt worse than the pain he was already feeling? That cave had made her like a blind guide. They were all blind guides leading the blind in that place. They saw nothing but their power and profit amassed at the expense of the weak and helpless. And he thought Susanna, above all the others, would separate herself from the greedy tyranny as she had that day. She had, after all, borne witness to their grief when no one else cared. But it was not to be. The place had taken hold of her as it had everyone else.
“Hi-yup,” he ordered the horse, tugging on the reins. The animal obeyed, pulling the plow between the newly planted corn rows that had yet to embrace the sunshine. He hoped to get the plowing out of the way before his uncle appeared. Uncle Dwight had left on some mysterious errand, so Jared took the time to do what he had promised even before Aunt Mattie went to the cave—to care for his uncle’s fields. Some would think him helpful and that he was a good Christian. He didn’t see it that way. He worked to occupy his thoughts instead of sitting alone in his cabin, consumed by his troubles, wrestling with Susanna’s rebuke. Nearly every night he prayed to God to release him from it all, to ease these burdens, or at least make them more bearable. Instead, they hung on him like heavy burdens, pulling him into a pit.
“Whoa,” he commanded, pulling back on the reins. He wiped the line of sweat from his brow. Jared tried to make sense out of all this. Were they not sheep in the Lord’s pasture? Didn’t the sheep hear His voice? As a Christian, wasn’t he supposed to hear God’s voice? Wasn’t it God’s voice that told him to send Mattie to the cave? The voice that said there might something special in S
usanna? Then why wasn’t anything turning out right? Why did Aunt Mattie die? Why did Susanna have to be like the others at that cave, leeches that drained money from the living and now the dead? “Why, God?” he said loudly.
The horse nickered and turned its head as if to inquire of Jared’s troubles.
“It’s nothing,” he told the animal. “Pa and Ma should be about ready to leave St. Louis and go out West, and I’m here with nothing.” He leaned against the plow. “Maybe I should go, too. Head for St. Louis. Be a part of that new wagon team. Start new. What is here for me, anyway?” He kicked at a clod of hard soil. “Nothing, that’s what.”
The horse returned his gaze to the field before him and whinnied.
“I get the message. Keep plowing. Keep going. What does the Good Book say? Keep looking forward? No one’s fit for the Lord’s kingdom if he keeps looking back?” Am I still fit for Your kingdom, Lord? he asked in his heart. Or is the past keeping me back, away from You and from my future?
Just then, Jared saw a dust cloud rise in the distance. A rider was coming up the road, fast and furious. Jared wiped the sweat away once more and ambled through the field to the road. The rider bore the dusky face of a man of color. “Whoa, yip,” the man called to his horse. “I’m lookin’ for a Mistuh Jared Edwards.”
“Yes, sir, that’s me.”
The man straightened, a bit surprised. “Did you just call me suh?”
“Why not? We are all God’s men. We’re created in His image.”
He laughed and tipped back his hat. “Not many folks think of us the way you do. They think we’s just some kinda animal or sumthin’.”
“That’s why I refuse to own anyone. If someone wants to work for me, I’ll pay them.”
“Woo-wee. Now that’s sumthin’ I shore would like. How much you figger you’d pay fer me helpin’ in that there field?” He pointed to the barren field.
Into The Deep Page 5