“I don’t really know,” she confessed. “I can only take tomorrow as it comes. It’s enough for me right now.” She dare not tell him her dream of the man on the black horse, or of being swept away to a grand home on a hillside, or anything else. She only wanted to live for this moment.
“I’ve had people tell me I need to think about the future. About things like. . .” He paused. “I guess I’m living one day at a time, too, and letting tomorrow take care of itself.” She felt he wanted to say more, but it stayed buried. Instead, she rejoiced in the brief time they had before one of the servants came running to find her. When Jared bid her farewell, appearing saddened that the time had been so short-lived, she only hoped they would meet again soon.
At dinner that night, the family offered her looks of disapproval all around. Susanna panicked, wondering if they somehow knew of her secret walk with Jared earlier that day. They gazed at her as if she had betrayed them. She never felt so alone. How could she tell them that she held no evil intent in speaking with Jared, that she only wanted peace to come from this situation? That Jared was a kind man through and through who only wanted what was best for everyone?
After dinner, Papa called her into the study. He sat down in his chair and waited expectantly. Not long after, the doors opened, and Dr. Croghan himself ventured in, stiff and stern in his frock coat with gleaming brass buttons and polished boots. Susanna felt weak under the gaze of the man who owned the very place where her family lived and worked. Archibald Miller arrived next, equally dressed in fashionable attire, accompanied by a stern expression to match the prevailing atmosphere. She felt even weaker.
They took seats near Papa. “Miss Barnett,” they each greeted.
“Dr. Croghan,” she managed to say. “Mr. Miller.”
The men nodded to her father. “I have something to read to you, Susanna,” Papa said, withdrawing a letter.
Susanna sucked in her breath. “Who is it from, Papa?” she asked in as controlled a voice as possible. Could it be from Jared? Did he expound on the love she felt certain was there, like that day in the woods when he held her hand and even during the walk this very afternoon? The idea made her shudder, especially if such a letter had found its way into her father’s hands.
He unfolded the letter and cleared his throat. “ ‘We were most disturbed to find all manner of disease being entertained in your cave. We had traveled far from Philadelphia, intent on seeing this wondrous sight about which we had heard told. Bless providence, we were stopped by a farmer named Jared Edwards who told us of the deaths attributed to the cave. We now ask that you warn others and put forth the necessary actions to prevent a terrible calamity from happening.’ ” Pa folded the letter. All the men stared at her grimly. “We know the man who spoke to these people is the same young man you have been meeting in confidence, Susanna.”
Jared? But how. . . ? She straightened. “Yes, Papa, I. . .I have seen him a few times.”
“And you saw him the night those men came, did you not?” Dr. Croghan asked. “Some say he even seemed to know you.”
“He was very disturbed, of course, over his aunt’s passing. I saw him for the first time the day she passed away.” She wanted to tell him about the grief she witnessed, the flowers she gave, the wrenching of her heart at the harsh words his uncle had spoken. Then the good things that came from it, the day they sat together by the stream when he held her hand and gazed steadfastly into her eyes. The walk by the river this very afternoon when she sensed a knitting together of minds and hearts.
Croghan and Papa exchanged glances. “Hiram, I’ve been told this is the same Edwards that has been having secret meetings inside his cabin,” the doctor said, his frustration evident. “I’m told he’s raising a following. And now he’s spreading lies among the very populace with which we do business.” He turned to acknowledge Susanna who shrank in her seat under his baneful stare. “What do you know about this young man?”
“I—I know he was upset about the cave. He has called it a death cave in the past. I’ve tried to convince him otherwise, that the cave has many fine features. But I know he isn’t raising a following to do us harm. His uncle is very—”
“You see?” Croghan interrupted. “A death cave! This young man has been conspiring in all manner of deceit concerning my cave. And your own daughter is involved, Hiram!”
“Doctor, please.” She began feeling more nervous under his glaring countenance. “We have talked, yes. But don’t you agree that in pleasant conversation and sympathizing with others we can all come to an understanding?”
“An understanding of what?”
“I. . .uh. . .” She paused, suddenly confused.
“An understanding that my cave is dangerous? That it is now called the Death Cave instead of Mammoth Cave? That it is neither fit for man nor beast and should be closed?” Croghan stood to his feet and began to pace. “No. This can’t be allowed to continue. We must put a stop to this. If we don’t, I’ll have no choice but to close if a ruckus ensues.”
“You can’t close the cave,” Miller protested. “Look at all we’ve accomplished here.”
Susanna saw her father turn pasty white “There must be some other way to resolve this,” he said slowly.
“Perhaps a meeting,” Miller suggested, “between all of us.”
“I will be forced to close unless this situation is resolved,” Croghan said grimly. “Already some are urging me to do so after what’s happened with the invalids.” He whirled to face Susanna. “Since you know this young man, perhaps it would do us well to have both him and his uncle for dinner. Explain the nature of the cave and what we wish to accomplish here. Offer what we can in the manner of sorrow and understanding, as you have said. But at the same time, avoid other difficulties with regards to the cave and its visitors. Do you think your young man will agree to such an invitation?”
“I—I don’t know, sir. I’m sure he will wonder what it is about. He will be suspicious. Even when I was making purchases at Brownsville, he. . .” She halted then, realizing what she had said. She didn’t want them to know of that day and the encounter by the stream, how something special had been forged between them. “That is, he was most distressed at the idea of making money from a place where his aunt died so tragically.”
“You see?” Croghan complained. “No one believes in what we are doing here. Now we have a disease worse than the consumption spreading throughout Kentucky—the disease of spoken lies. And it will be our undoing unless something is done.”
“Then it’s settled,” Miller decided. “We will have the men here for dinner in the hotel’s private dining room. We will make it a lavish affair. And pray that good intentions will resolve this situation.” Miller pointed to Susanna. “And she must be the one to invite them since she and the young man know each other.”
Papa nodded. “Yes, you will personally deliver the invitation, Susanna, since you and the young man seem to have come to some understanding. And I pray this will be resolved. We must keep the tours going at all cost.”
Susanna stared at her father. She had hoped he wanted the meeting to restore peace and forge sympathy for the grief caused by the cave. Only by this could they keep Jared and others from warning visitors not to come here. Instead, she saw her father desperate to save his livelihood by any means available. No matter what they said, Jared wouldn’t believe it, nor would his uncle. They had been through too much. They would look beyond all this to see the real intent, to keep the cave open despite what they had been through.
“God, help me know what to do in all this,” she prayed that night. Now, given the quest of delivering the invitation to Jared and his uncle, she couldn’t help her anxiety. Jared and she had both begun to build trust between them. Would this now shatter it all?
❧
On the appointed day of the invitation’s delivery, Susanna took extra care in dressing and calmed herself with prayer. Since Matt Bransford knew where Jared lived, having delivered the letter she o
nce wrote to him, she asked Matt to take her there. The pleasant spring day and the birds serenading their ride calmed the nervous fluttering of Susanna’s heart. The birds flew from limb to limb along the road, soaring above the difficulties of this life. If God could understand the birds’ needs, as scripture said, He must also understand what was about to unfold.
The dampness of her hand made the paper she carried limp. Matt tried to entertain her with stories, but her mind remained consumed by her errand. What would she say when she arrived? How would she confront Jared about the contents of the letter? What would he say in response to it and the invitation? And how would she confront him about what she had learned concerning his conversation with the patrons of the cave?
“Yer awfully quiet, Miss Barnett,” Matt observed.
“I’m not sure what to say when I see him,” she confessed.
“You mean when you see that young fellar? Why there ain’t no reason to fret. He’s a fine fellar. We had ourselves a right good talk. He even said I might work the land one day and git paid for it, iffen I can git away from the cave for a spell. Though I don’t think Massah Crawn’s gonna let me do that.”
Susanna glanced over at the man who stared at the road ahead, urging the horses forward. “You talked to Jared?”
“Yes’m, when I delivered that note from you. Pleased he was to git it, I must say. And he dun called me suh, too. Never had anyone call me suh before. Made me feel right important.” He straightened then. “Yes’m, he shore made me feel like I was sumthin’. Don’t get that much around here. But he said that the good Lawd made us all. And there ain’t no difference in the Lawd’s eyes.”
Susanna marveled at this. Perhaps there wasn’t anything to fear. Jared must possess a bit of a merciful heart to give dignity and honor where honor was due. Maybe all would go well.
“Yes’m, he made my day. I’ve talked to many a folk in the cave there, but none treat me like that man did. They think I’m just a part of that place, you know. But he knows I got feelings. Yes’m, maybe we can get some things changed around here. We could sure use it.”
She liked hearing these descriptions that painted a more appealing picture of Jared than what she had heard of late. She always wanted to know more about him, and it seemed the Lord was opening new doors each day.
The rolling hills surrounding the cave soon gave way to patches of green farmland, where those who tried to make a living off the land had built their homes. She began feeling tense once more as the horses plodded ever nearer to their destination. Matt drove the wagon around a bend in the road and toward a plowed field. “This is the field here where I dun seen the fellar. He ain’t there now, though.”
Susanna strained to see. “No one is working the fields. Head on up the road a bit.”
Matt did so, only to come to a junction in the road. He brought the horses to a standstill. “Well now, I ain’t sure where to go, Miss Barnett. This here’s the field all right. Maybe he lives close by.”
“We’ll ask at the next cabin we come to. Keep going straight.” She tucked the lap robe more firmly around herself to protect her dress from the dust and retied the bonnet beneath her chin. There was no turning back. Papa, Mr. Miller, Dr. Croghan, everyone was looking to her to accomplish the task. They wanted her to help them keep the cave open. Jared wanted to see it closed. Why did everyone think she could help?
A simple cabin soon appeared in the distance, not unlike the one in which Susanna had grown up. She caught her breath as memories washed over her from several years ago. She would stop here and inquire.
In the yard, a man was splitting wood with an ax. His hat sat low on his head even as Matt drew the wagon to a stop. He looked up for a moment before swiping off his hat. “Susanna?”
Jared! She nearly leapt from the wagon in relief. God had guided their steps to the very place.
“This is a surprise,” Jared said, offering his hand to help her down from the wagon.
From what she could tell, he did look surprised and even pleased. She rearranged her skirts, shaking out the many petticoats.
“What are you doing here?” He glanced at Matt sitting in the wagon before ramming the ax into a stump. “I take it this isn’t a social call.” He went over to a water barrel to refresh himself, offering her the dipper.
“No, thank you. And, of course, this is a social call. Or rather a social call to bring you an invitation.” She wasted no time handing him the letter crafted by Mr. Miller. She watched his dark eyes travel over the words, wondering what he was thinking. He then tucked the note into his pocket and picked up the ax. Confusion and curiosity filled her, watching him lift the ax and bring it to bear on a chunk of wood. “Have you nothing to say?”
“I have plenty to say, but since my uncle is also invited, I can’t say one way or the other. So I won’t keep you. I’m sure there are things waiting for you at the hotel.”
Susanna could hear the suspicion in his words. She heaved a sigh, wishing these issues weren’t separating them; wishing other feelings could come forth instead. “It doesn’t matter whether you succeed in closing the cave down anyway. There may not be people coming to the hotel as it is, what with you warning them to stay away like we all have the fever.”
He spun around.
“Yes, those people you talked to sent a letter to my father, angry about the cave. Now my father and Dr. Croghan think you only want to cause harm—that you and your uncle are planning harm against the cave.”
His face colored. “I don’t want to harm anyone, Susanna. You know that. I felt I needed to warn those people as to what is going on inside the cave.” His eyes narrowed. “So is that why we’re invited to a dinner? So they can put us in jail? Or banish us from this part of Kentucky?”
“No. They want to talk. That’s what you wanted in the first place, isn’t it? To make people understand your point of view?”
Wielding the ax, he swung once more. The tool came down hard on another log. “Talking is a good thing, but my uncle won’t take kindly to just fancy words. He’s heard all the words. He wants something done.”
“But civilized people talk out their differences. And I know Dr. Croghan wants the hard feelings put aside. Isn’t that good?”
“I suppose it is,” he said once more, returning the ax to the stump. “I should be glad. But I know they might also be planning some trick. Something that will make us all go away and never come back. No one offers people like us fancy victuals without some other idea in mind.” He eyed her. “Susanna, I hope if you know what it is, you would tell me.”
Her face flushed. “Jared, it’s dinner and conversation.”
Jared wiped the sweat from his brow and gazed at the woods beyond. “I’ll ask my uncle what he thinks, but for sure I will come.”
“Good. I’m glad.” She hoped she sounded as eager as she felt. She wanted him there, even if they were still at odds with each other. Just to be in his presence at the table where she could listen to him rather than the diatribe of her older brother would be a pleasant diversion.
He stood still, staring at her in a way that made her heart leap. She had accomplished her task, but she could also bask in the knowledge that a bond still existed, even if she was dismayed at him for his actions of late. He was not her man on a black horse. But there were things about Jared Edwards that still interested her, more than any dream or any other man for that matter. Maybe it was what Matt said on the way to this place. That Jared was caring, sensitive, and wanted to help others. No one should fear him but rather respect him. She hoped to see more of that kind of man in the days ahead.
Nine
She was a beautiful vision to him. Her hair caught in the wind. Her blue eyes held a measure of expectancy as she extended the invitation to him with fair and unblemished hands. He wished he hadn’t been so suspicious during her visit, wishing, instead, he could have revealed his true heart. He had wanted to tell her that he would run all the way if he could, dashing by horseback over hills an
d dales, just to dine with her and stare into her eyes. How he wanted to shout what lay hidden within his heart, if not for other things that barred the way. He wanted to cast away all obstacles—the suspicions, the rifts, the cave, his aunt’s death—everything, so he might experience love and marriage. Perhaps God had opened the door by allowing this dinner to take place. He would speak what lay on his heart and forget about it. He would drink in Susanna for as long as he dared, and afterward, take her on an evening stroll.
As he rode over to his uncle’s place, he hoped he could convince Uncle Dwight to accept the invitation without raising further difficulty or suspicion. He had not heard from the man in quite some time. He would have checked on him sooner if not for the recent memories of the rifle and the harsh words. Easing his hold on the reins, he slowed to a stop. The cabin looked forlorn and still, as if shrouded in a veil of sadness. He slowly approached the place, keeping careful watch, and called out a greeting so as not to be hailed by another bullet. “Hello! Uncle, you here?”
The door slowly opened. Uncle Dwight emerged, a blanket wrapped around him, shivering. Jared dismounted from his horse and stared in disbelief. “Uncle?”
“I’m sick, Jared,” he said, interrupted by a hacking cough.
“Let me help you.” He assisted the older man inside to a chair, where Uncle Dwight fell down with grunt. The place was cold. Jared set to work stoking the fire. Then he looked around for something to make up a cup of tea. Finding a few dried herbs on hand, he put water in a pot to hang over the fire.
“Never felt so awful in my life,” he confessed. “Wish Mattie were here. How I miss her. Maybe this means I’m going to her soon.”
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