by Diane Ashley
Aunt Dolly nodded. “I believe your Asher has everything under control. Let’s get back into the wagon where the wind will not cut us in two. We’ll be none the worse for helping the Indians and on our way again soon.”
Once they were inside, Aunt Dolly told the other ladies about the encounter.
Half-listening to her aunt’s story, Rebekah’s mind wandered to the young Indian lad. What would happen to that boy who had pulled her from the wagon? Would he grow into a hard man filled with hatred for the white man? Was there any chance to forge a bond between his people and her people? Surely there was enough room in this great country for both to coexist.
She thought about the argument she had sparked between Colonel Lewis and Aunt Dolly. He apparently had little understanding of Jesus and His love for others. Then another thought struck her. What about the Indians? Were they saved? Her personal considerations were swept away in a flood of concern. They needed the chance to know Christ as their personal Savior. If caring Christians didn’t share the gospel with them, who would? And if they didn’t have Christ in their hearts. . .
Rebekah shuddered. Distrust and fear were rampant these days, but with patience and love she prayed it would be possible to bring the two worlds together.
❧
Asher shaded his eyes from the rays of the late-afternoon sun. They would have to set up camp immediately. He wished he could count on Colonel Lewis to help, but the man seemed to have little understanding of the amount of work to be done. Instead of gathering wood or rubbing down the horses, he would spend his time talking to the womenfolk and leave all the chores to Asher and the soldiers driving the wagons.
The ferry bumped against the bank, and he led his horse off of its bobbing surface. Then he dismounted and tied his reins to a convenient branch. Striding back to the ferry, he grabbed the leads of the horses pulling the first wagon to calm them as they negotiated the transition between rushing river and dry ground. By the time both wagons were safe on dry ground, the sun was hanging low in the sky.
The bearded ferryman pulled against the rope that guided him back and forth across the river. “Keep a sharp eye out for Injuns,” he shouted across the sound of the rushing water. “I been seein’ a lot of them thievin’ braves up and down the river last week or so.”
Asher waved at the man. It was too bad he couldn’t have stated his warning privately instead of shouting it out so all the women would hear. There was no need to cause them undue alarm. They were under his care, and the Good Lord had given him the ability to watch out over them.
A quick survey of the area led him to a pretty meadow about two hundred feet from the bank of the river. He went back to collect the rest of the party and start getting everyone settled in for the night. He had almost finished checking the horses for thorns and stones that might delay their travel when Rebekah walked up.
“Would you like some hot coffee? I brewed it strong the way you like it.”
He blew on his frozen hands and reached for the tin cup. “Perfect.” He hoped she understood that he wasn’t only referring to the beverage she’d brought.
Rebekah’s head dipped. He would have liked to continue looking into her eyes. There was so much he wanted to tell her. How thoughts of her had sustained him during their many months of separation. How wonderful it was to be near her now and see her every day.
He also wanted to tell her that he looked forward to building a big home for her right in the center of Nashville. He had big plans that would almost certainly make her the wealthiest woman in Nashville. Once they were married, he would make certain she never had to work hard again. She could spend all of her time in the company of the most prominent citizens of Nashville.
“I guess I should get back to the fire.” She peeked up at him for a brief instant before looking away. “Aunt Dolly will need help preparing supper.”
Was she teasing him? Asher gulped down the rest of his coffee and reached for her hand. It felt cold, and he wrapped his fingers around hers to impart some of his warmth to her. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we collect the canteens and walk down to the river together?”
“I. . .I don’t know if we should.”
“Please, Rebekah. We’ll be back in Nashville in a few days. . . .”
His heart sped up when she smiled and nodded. “But you have to promise to be a gentleman.”
He put a hand over his heart and staggered back a few steps. “You wound me.”
They kept up a lighthearted conversation as he led her down the path to the river. In the fading light, the water began to take on a silver sheen. It was wild and beautiful, a fine example of God’s handiwork. They filled the canteens and stood quietly enjoying the sounds of nature.
Asher’s breath condensed in the cool air. “I’ve missed home.”
Her small hand touched his arm. “I prayed for you every day. I was so afraid you would be killed or maimed. And then after a year when you didn’t come home, I thought maybe you’d found a reason to stay away. . . .”
His Rebekah was almost too beautiful for words. He reached out a hand to push back a tendril of her moon-kissed hair. Her eyes closed as if she, too, was overcome by the moment. Her lips parted slightly. She was so close he could feel her breath on his cheek. If he leaned forward just a few more inches, their lips would meet. But he would not ruin this special moment they shared. He backed away.
“Is something wrong?” Her voice, so warm a moment ago, sounded lost.
“No.” He turned toward the forest in an attempt to control his turbulent emotions. “You should go back to the others.”
“Asher, what is it? Did I say something wrong?” Her voice caught. “Or did you really find a reason to stay away?”
A scream interrupted his thoughts before he could form the right words. He turned and ran into the line of trees while reaching for his pistol. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me. Alexandra!” Her voice ended on a wail.
“Where are you?” He ran forward until he could make out her shape in the gathering dusk.
“There’s something out there.” She pointed to a willow tree that was indeed shaking in a most odd fashion.
Asher crept forward, his pistol cocked and ready, his mind filled with images of Indian braves and wild animals. He was a few yards away when the tree tilted toward him. He jumped back, nearly landing on top of Alexandra.
In the clearing where the tree had stood was a large, furry, brown shape standing on its hind legs. As soon as he saw the animal’s flat black tail, Asher laughed. “It’s only a beaver trying to build a new home.”
Alexandra’s throaty laughter joined his, and Asher found himself overcome with mirth. He doubled over with large, loud guffaws. It must have been relief that made her laugh with him, but whatever the reason, her giggles were contagious. His chest shook, and his stomach clenched, but he could not control the laughter. He pointed at the confused-looking beaver, which seemed unable to decide whether or not to claim his willow tree, and chortled again.
That’s when Rebekah found them laughing together like a couple of demented geese. She shot him a look of pain and pushed past them.
The laughter dried up as suddenly as it had come. He had not meant to hurt Rebekah. He took a step toward her retreating figure, but Alexandra put a hand on his arm.
“Thank you for coming again to my rescue.”
Asher nodded and turned away from Alexandra to watch Rebekah until he was sure she was safely back in the camp. He knew he ought to catch up to her and explain things—from why he had turned away from her to why he was laughing with Alexandra. But he had no idea how to put his feelings into words. He reholstered his pistol and returned with Alexandra to the river for the canteens.
As they climbed the pathway through the darkening woods, Asher’s vague guilt hardened into a sense of injustice. Did Rebekah expect him to ignore a cry for help? Of course not, but instead of rushing back like an impetuous, spoiled child, she should have stayed with him and Alexandra. They
could have explained their laughter, and then all three of them could have traveled together rather than returning to camp separately.
The thought of them traveling separately in life flitted through his mind, but he pushed it away, assuring himself Rebekah wanted the same things he did. Didn’t she?
Ten
Rebekah shifted on the hard wooden bench as the new pastor looked out over the congregation. When Brother Lawrence had died last fall, Aunt Dolly’s church, as Rebekah distinguished it in her mind from her home church, had been led by a series of elders. All of them were good men, but the church needed its own shepherd. In response to the church members’ prayers, Roman Miller had arrived in Nashville at the beginning of the year, and he and his wife, Una, set to work immediately to serve God’s purpose.
Pastor Miller called for a prayer, and Rebekah reined in her attention, focusing on the blessings he asked for the congregation. She added her own prayer for a happy future with Asher. He had not attended service this morning, and she was worried he was ill.
When the prayer was over, the pastor issued an invitation to all new believers to come forward, and the congregation sang the closing hymn. As the last notes died away, Rebekah and Aunt Dolly gathered their cloaks and rose to leave.
Alexandra Lewis and her mother waved to them from across the sanctuary, and Rebekah forced a smile to her lips as she nodded. The dashing young woman seemed the embodiment of every problem in her life. She dropped a glove and slowly picked it up, hoping to avoid a conversation with Alexandra. After all of those weeks in close company with her, Rebekah had failed to find they had much in common. Except Asher, of course.
“How are two of my favorite ladies this fine Sabbath morning?” Pastor Miller’s cheerful voice welcomed them at the door to the church.
Aunt Dolly laughed. “You are quite the diplomat, Pastor Miller. I suppose that all of the ladies in Nashville are your favorites.”
He beamed at them. “Only the ones who are or may become members of the church.”
“How are you feeling today, Una?” Aunt Dolly directed her words to the short woman who was beginning to show signs of her pregnancy and who stood next to the pastor.
Rebekah peeked over her aunt’s shoulder at the dark-haired, green-eyed beauty who stood with one hand on the small of her back. Rumor said she was from a wealthy family, but her face glowed with humility and love for others. She was a talented baker as well. While her husband ministered to people’s souls, she soothed their taste buds with delicious homemade pies and cakes.
Una shook her head. “I tire before I can get through a day’s work.”
A pang of remorse hit Rebekah, and tears threatened to overwhelm her as she watched the pastor and his wife. She wanted to start her own family, but would her dream ever come true? It seemed everyone was moving forward except Asher and her. When had it all started to go wrong? Was it that night at the river, the night he had pushed her away? Or had it started in New Orleans when she caught him dancing with Alexandra Lewis?
Her mind went back to the day Asher had told her he was going to war. The time between then and today had changed both of them. He was no longer the boy who wanted to live the simple life.
“I hope your frown is not an indictment of my sermon.”
“No. . .no, sir.” Rebekah shook her head for emphasis. “I was thinking of something else entirely.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure it’s much better to learn my sermon had so little effect that you’ve already forgotten it. It has always been my hope that God will use my sermons to make a difference in the congregation’s lives, not be forgotten before they pass through the exit.”
Aunt Dolly came to her rescue. “You must forgive my niece, Pastor. She is pining over her young man, who was apparently unable to attend this morning.”
Maybe it would be better if no one tried to rescue her. Rebekah’s cheeks burned, and she glanced down, unable to bear the sympathetic expressions of the pastor and his wife.
Pastor Miller reached for her hand, placing it in both of his. “Perhaps you will allow me to bring my wife to visit with you and your aunt this week.”
Aunt Dolly raised her parasol to shade her face. “I have an even better idea. Why don’t you and Mrs. Miller come by today for dinner? Rebekah and I would welcome your company.”
“If you’re sure it’s no imposition. . .”
“I insist. Please say you’ll come. I know Rebekah agrees, don’t you?”
Rebekah looked at the earnest face of the pastor. She’d rather have had her dinner alone, but she knew her duty. She forced a smile to her face. “We’d love having you join us.”
Pastor Miller helped them enter their carriage. “Then we would be delighted.”
“Excellent. We’ll look for you within the half hour.”
As the carriage rumbled away, Aunt Dolly turned to her. “You may remove that grimace from your face, Rebekah.”
“I thought I was smiling.”
“If that’s a smile, I would hate to see what your face looks like when you are in pain.”
Rebekah dropped her gaze, ashamed of her sour disposition. What would Asher think if he could see her right now? But that was exactly the problem. Asher was nowhere around. And he’d apparently forgotten his promise to approach her pa as soon as he returned to Nashville. Well, she was not going to pine for him. She would smile and converse as if her heart were not breaking apart. What did it matter if everyone, even God, had abandoned her?
Aunt Dolly cleared her throat. “I have an idea I’d like to discuss with you, Rebekah.”
The tone of her aunt’s voice was light, but Rebekah twisted her gloves between her hands. Was her aunt about to chastise her for some other shortcoming? “Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, dear. Not at all. But it is a rather delicate matter, and I am concerned that I may hurt your feelings.”
Rebekah smiled brightly even as she steeled herself for yet another blow. “You could never do that, Dolly. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“I was thinking about that weekend we spent at Mrs. Lewis’s family home in Natchez.”
Rebekah shifted on the seat. “I’d just as soon forget that weekend.”
“I know, dear, but it made me think of that piano in the drawing room. I used to play it for my dear husband, but since his death, I simply don’t have the heart for it.” Aunt Dolly paused for a quick breath. “I was wondering about arranging piano lessons.”
Piano lessons? What an intriguing idea. Her jaw muscles relaxed, allowing her smile to become more natural. “But wouldn’t that be expensive?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I couldn’t afford it.”
A sudden scene flashed in Rebekah’s mind. She and Asher were sitting on a piano bench, their shoulders touching as he turned the pages. Beautiful music was pouring from the piano as her fingers swept up and down the keyboard. Somewhere in the background, Alexandra wept into a handkerchief. . . .
“Rebekah? We’re home, dear.”
The carriage had stopped in front of Aunt Dolly’s home.
Rebekah climbed down and followed her aunt inside, her feet practically dancing to the sweeping melody playing in her mind.
❧
Rebekah’s fingers seemed to tangle as she tried to sort out the notes on the paper in front of her nose. She leaned forward and stared at the sheet, but the little black marks made no sense. Whoever thought to write down music in dots and slashes that had no relevance to the black and white keys under her fingers?
From behind her, the quick footsteps of Mr. Smothers, the piano teacher for many of the young ladies of Nashville, approached the stool. “Let’s try again, shall we?”
His squeaky voice irritated her further, but Rebekah bit down on her lower lip. It wasn’t Mr. Smothers’s fault she had no talent. “It’s hopeless. I cannot even master the simplest of tunes. I will never be able to play a real song.” She twisted on the piano stool to face him.
Mr. Smothers purs
ed his lips, looking as if he had bitten into a crab apple. “Anyone can learn the basics, my dear. But you must apply yourself if you wish to excel. I believe the problem may be your advanced age. Most of my students are a great deal younger. Their fingers are likely more nimble and their minds not so cluttered with. . .with whatever it is that clutters your mind.”
A knock on the front door interrupted them.
Rebekah pushed back the piano stool. “I think we’ve both suffered enough today.”
Mr. Smothers did not have to look quite so relieved to be done with their lesson as he gathered his music sheets and overcoat. Rebekah saw him to the door, pondering whether or not to free the poor man from future trials by dispensing with his services. She would mention it to Aunt Dolly tonight. It was obvious she would never learn to play well, and there was no sense in spending Aunt Dolly’s money for a lost cause.
They were met at the front door by Pastor and Mrs. Miller, who had dropped by for a visit. Much to her surprise, Rebecca had enjoyed having lunch with them after church last week. They seemed to find such joy in reaching out to the community, and their love for one another was evident in every glance they shared.
Rebekah trailed them into the parlor and sat in one corner, listening as they discussed the Indian attack at a settlement only a few miles north of Nashville. The people living there had not been killed, but their livestock was stolen, and several barns burned to the ground.
“Our wagons were stopped by a group of Indians on the Natchez Road.” Aunt Dolly smiled at her. “But thanks to the quick thinking of my niece, we were able to come to an agreement to share our food with them and thus avoid disaster.”
Una Miller shuddered, making her teacup teeter. “I fear for all of our lives if we cannot find a way to live together in Christian love.”
Aunt Dolly passed a tray of pastries to her, but Rebekah could not concentrate on them enough to choose one. Her mind raced with questions. “How can the Indians practice Christian love if they don’t even know Christ?”
Pastor Miller nodded. “That is an excellent question. Since coming to the frontier, Una and I have been burdened by our concern for these Indians, and we’ve prayed for God to show us how we might help them.”