by Penny Zeller
“All right, then; I’ll get one for myself and be right back.” The woman left and returned a moment later with two cups of water. “I thought you might change your mind. It’s quite a hot day.”
Kaydie couldn’t resist the cold water, and she held out her hand to accept the cup. As she bent her head and took a sip, Kaydie thought it tasted even better than Nellie’s lemonade, and she knew it would soothe her parched throat. As she leaned down to take another sip, she heard a loud bang and almost spilled the water all over her lap. Her head jerked up, and she watched as Darius fell from his horse and landed on the hard earth. Trailing him was a man wearing a sheriff’s badge, his gun still smoking.
Kaydie gasped and jumped up from the bench, tossing her cup of water to the side as she ran into the middle of the street, where people had begun to gather around the fallen body. The sheriff had pulled the mask away from Darius’s face, and Kaydie fell to her knees at his side, staring into his lifeless eyes. “D-Darius?” she stammered. For a minute, her heart seemed to stop.
“Ma’am, do you know this man?” the sheriff asked her.
“He’s—he’s m-my husband,” Kaydie said, not even thinking of the implications that might come to someone who revealed her identity as a bank robber’s wife.
“He just tried to rob the bank. I’m afraid he’s dead.”
“Dead?” Kaydie asked.
“I’m afraid so, ma’am. He brandished his weapon, and I was obligated to shoot.”
“I’m free, then?” Kaydie said.
“Free?” The sheriff stared at her. “Were you involved in the attempted robbery, ma’am?”
“N-no, I wasn’t. I—I mean, am I free to live my life now?” Kaydie glanced up into the faces of strangers and suddenly felt uneasy. Where would she go? Who could she turn to? Would her life be better now, or worse?
“Yes, you’re free to live your life now,” the sheriff said, patting Kaydie gently on the back.
“Thank you,” Kaydie said. No tears fell from her eyes; only a sigh of relief welled up within her.
“Do you have anywhere to go? Any family in the area?” the sheriff asked her.
Before she could answer, a woman’s voice said, “She’s staying with me for the time being, Sheriff.”
Kaydie turned to see the petite, white-haired woman who had offered her a drink of water. She didn’t know who she was; she knew only that, because of an incident that happened less than five minutes ago, she would no longer be in bondage to a man she’d grown to despise. She would no longer have to suffer his relentless acts of cruelty. She would be free to raise her baby without fearing the brutality of a man who saw her as more of a slave than a wife. “Thank you,” she whispered to the woman.
The sheriff helped Kaydie to her feet. “We’ll see that your husband gets a proper burial, ma’am,” he said.
“All right,” Kaydie said. She still couldn’t believe how drastically her life had changed in an instant. The woman took her hand, and Kaydie let herself be led away. She turned around one last time to glance at Darius’s lifeless body, as if to be sure she was free. Blood was still spurting from his wound, and one of his hands was clenched in a fist; the other hand held a gun. He’d undoubtedly believed he could draw faster than the sheriff. Darius had chosen one too many banks to rob. His due had come. And, in that due coming to him, freedom had come to Kaydie—both physical and emotional. Yet, for the first time, Kaydie did not know what lay ahead for her. However, she decided that not knowing what lay ahead of her was better than thinking she knew and being wrong, as she’d been when she’d married Darius.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Happy birthday, dear Davey, happy birthday to you!” sang the chorus of voices to the youngest member of the Sawyer household.
“Blow out the candles, Davey,” McKenzie urged him. This birthday party was turning out to be a bigger thrill to her than to the birthday boy, it seemed.
Davey leaned over the chocolate cake and blew out the five candles that topped it, bringing applause from the adults around him. “Is that lollipop mine?” Davey asked.
“That’s the surprise I was telling you would be on the top of your cake, in addition to the bits of crushed candy,” McKenzie said.
“It’s all mine?” Davey asked. His eyes grew big as he focused on the five-inch-in-diameter lollipop with concentric swirls of yellow, purple, green, and blue.
“All yours,” McKenzie answered, beaming. “It’s a special one—you’ll never see the likes of that type of lollipop in Granger’s Mercantile. It came all the way from Boston.”
McKenzie watched as Davey pulled the lollipop out of the top of the cake and eagerly peeled off the wrapper. If she had already found Kaydie, she would have missed seeing Davey’s joy at receiving something as simple as a lollipop. If she had already found Kaydie, she would have missed the loving hug between Zach and Davey when Zach presented Davey with a fishing rod. If she had already found Kaydie and headed back to Boston, she would have missed out on this camaraderie with Zach, Davey, Rosemary, Asa, and Jonah. Although she still hoped to find her sister as soon as possible, McKenzie realized that she wouldn’t have wanted to miss this occasion for anything. Such warm celebrations were few and far between, in her experience.
“One more gift, Davey,” McKenzie said. She pulled a small present wrapped in brown paper from its hiding place under the table and handed it to Davey.
Davey tore off the paper. “What is it?”
“It’s a harmonica,” McKenzie said.
“I used to have one of those,” Asa said. “Back when I was a boy, my father bought me one.”
“Can you show me how to use it?” Davey asked.
Asa nodded and began to play the instrument. Davey squealed with delight. “It takes a lot of practice,” said Asa, “but you’ll get the hang of it.” He handed it back to Davey.
Before his audience, Davey lifted the harmonica and began to play it as Asa had shown him. “I’m gonna play this all my life,” he said. “Thanks, Ma!” He slid off his chair and ran to McKenzie, his arms outstretched.
“You’re welcome, Davey. You know, I saw that at a toy store in Boston long before I ever met you. I’m so pleased you like it.” McKenzie kissed Davey on the forehead. Had she been told nearly three months ago that she would have felt so blessed in Pine Haven at a birthday party for a five-year-old boy, she wouldn’t have believed it. Not for one second.
***
That night, McKenzie joined Zach on the porch for their evening Bible study. Zach had mentioned that, before long, the weather would turn cold, and their time with the Lord would be spent inside by the fireplace. McKenzie wasn’t sure she would still be in Pine Haven when winter made its appearance. Still, she thought that studying God’s Word by the orange glow of the fire, with Zach next to her, sounded wonderful.
“Your cake was a big success,” Zach said, interrupting McKenzie’s thoughts.
McKenzie smiled. “Thank the Lord for that. When Davey asked me, I wasn’t sure I would be able to make good on such a request.”
“Cooking isn’t as bad as you once thought, is it?” Zach asked.
“Not really. I’m still trying to master some meals, but, thankfully, Rosemary has a lot of patience.”
“I’m glad the two of you are getting along,” Zach said. “I love coming inside and hearing the sound of your laughter.”
“I really like Rosemary. At first, I didn’t. I even decided I would never like her. But, she has been so patient with me and my shortcomings. I like to think of her as my best friend. That was something I was determined never to have again after Pearl’s betrayal, but God apparently had different plans.”
Zach opened his Bible. “I love the place in Proverbs where it says, ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’ It reminds me of what you just said about Rosemary. God knew all along that the two of you would become friends, and that your
life would change when you came to Pine Haven—that you would change. He directs our paths in life when we trust in Him and allow Him to work things out according to His will.”
McKenzie flipped through the pages of her own Bible. She’d grown more confident in her ability to locate the books that God had so graciously provided to His children. She found the verses Zach had read and reread them to herself. “But what if He stops directing my paths?” She thought of how it could be a month or even a year before she returned to Boston, but she ultimately would return to her home.
“That’s something we needn’t worry about, McKenzie.” Zach thumbed through his Bible again. “In Philippians, we are told that ‘he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.’ God isn’t going to leave you alone and never help you again, McKenzie. Once you place your trust in Him, He’s there for you forever, constantly molding you to become more like Christ. I recall a verse my pa once recited to me when it seemed as though I was continually making the same mistake over and over again. It’s Isaiah sixty-four, verse eight: ‘But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.’ He’s not finished with either of us yet, McKenzie.”
“Thank you, Zach.” McKenzie thought of how much she’d learned from Zach—and how much more she still had to learn. Had he not been so patient with her and had he not persuaded her to learn alongside of him, she might never have known the treasures that were found within a book she had never read before.
Such a thought surprised McKenzie, but then again, so many things in Pine Haven had been a surprise to her. McKenzie had never imagined she’d begin to have feelings for the man she’d married. She’d never anticipated she’d come to enjoy reading the Bible each night with Zach and learning more about the Lord. The friends McKenzie had made in Pine Haven were another thing that had surprised her, especially the friendships she’d formed with Rosemary and the quilting ladies….
***
“All right, girls, we haven’t much time,” said Marie Kinion, clapping her hands together in an attempt to organize the women of the quilting circle. Marie took great pride in heading up secret missions. Many folks in Pine Haven teased her repeatedly that she, rather than her husband, should have been the sheriff.
“McKenzie, you and Rosemary finish stitching the top piece onto the quilt. Wilma, you’ll be the lookout. Keep an eye on Lucille and let us know when she starts walking this way. Myrt, you arrange the goodie plate and pour the cups of tea. Eliza and Diane, you put the chairs in a circle. Put Lucille’s chair out in front, since she’ll be the guest of honor.”
Wilma Waterson took her job very seriously. As Lucille’s closest friend, she wanted nothing more than for this plan to go off without a hitch. Bending her knees, she crouched low and walked to the front window. Carefully bringing her head up level with the windowpane, she glanced across the street. Making sure that her eyes and the top of her gray head were the only things showing, Wilma watched Lucille’s movements closely.
“Is she coming yet?” McKenzie asked. Never had she pictured herself getting excited about scheming up a surprise for Lucille Granger, but keeping a secret from the town busybody was no easy feat, and she was as anxious as everyone else to see her reaction.
Wilma squinted. “No, she’s still talking to Zach outside of the mercantile.”
“These might be helpful,” said Myrtle, pulling from her patchwork purse a pair of opera glasses made from mother of pearl and brass.
“I’m impressed, Myrt,” said Rosemary, looking up from her stitching. “Where did you find such a fine pair of binoculars?”
Myrtle smiled. “I got these when I was a young woman in Connecticut. Many times, Mother and Father would take us to the opera house, but we couldn’t afford the best seats in the house. So, these opera glasses came in handy.” Myrtle handed them to Wilma.
She held the ornate binoculars to her eyes and peered through them. “Everything far away looks so close!” she exclaimed. “We must never allow Lucille to get her hands on these. Why, she’d be spying on unsuspecting people miles away!”
The group giggled at Wilma’s remark. “Yes, Myrt, you must keep those glasses away from our beloved Lucille.”
Myrtle nodded in agreement.
“Is Lucille any closer?” Marie asked.
“No,” answered Wilma, “but it looks as though she’s attempting to get away from Zach, judging by her gestures in this direction and the look of impatience on her face.”
“Thank goodness for Zach,” Rosemary sighed. “He was so kind to agree to be a part of our plan.”
McKenzie smiled to remember how amazed she’d been when several of the quilting ladies had cornered Zach after church one Sunday and asked him to help, and he’d agreed. Such a gesture on Zach’s part had added to McKenzie’s growing admiration of him.
“You couldn’t pay my husband to initiate a conversation with Lucille, much less deliberately prolong it,” declared Marie.
“I know what you mean,” said Rosemary. “Asa is a wonderful husband, but he, too, has his limits as far as what he will do to humor me.”
“You are fortunate to have a husband like Zach,” Diane told McKenzie with a smile. “Men like him don’t grow on every tree.”
“Especially not on the aspens and evergreens in Pine Haven,” chortled Marie.
“Oh, no! She almost got away from Zach again,” Wilma alerted them.
“Y’all are making me so nervous,” said Eliza. “It’s like we’re all spies in the army or somethin’.”
Marie laughed. “I hardly think spying on Lucille is like spying on the enemy during a war.”
“Still,” said Eliza, “here we are, tryin’ to finish up a quilt for Lucille, and we’re watchin’ her every move. Perhaps we should enlist in the United States Army.”
“Oh, no!” Wilma gasped. “She got away from Zach, and she’s coming this way!”
“Women of the esteemed Quilting Circle of the Town of Pine Haven, do not panic!” said Marie, even as she fanned herself.
“She’s getting closer!” exclaimed Wilma, her voice a panicked whisper.
“All right. Rosemary and McKenzie, would you take that quilt into the other room and finish sewing on that last piece?” Marie asked. “The rest of us will pretend that nothing out of the ordinary is going on. We’ll do our best to distract Lucille while you two finish up.”
Several moments later, the front doorknob jiggled. They had locked it and had forgotten to unlatch it in the frenzy caused by Lucille’s approach. A knock sounded next. “Hello?” came Lucille’s voice as she knocked again.
“Oh! Hello, Lucille,” said Marie, opening the door.
“Well, I’ll be!” exclaimed Lucille. She pushed her way past Marie and into the room. “Why on earth was the door locked?”
“Sorry about that,” said Marie, avoiding the question.
“I suppose I’m the last one here?” asked Lucille. “I hope I didn’t miss any juicy gossip!”
“No, no, don’t worry,” Myrtle assured her. “Come, Lucille; sit down.” She led Lucille to the chair they’d chosen for her in the circle.
“You won’t believe why I was late,” Lucille said with a dramatic sigh. She waited for all eyes to focus on her before continuing. “By the way, where’s McKenzie?”
“I’m right here, Lucille,” McKenzie said, and she and Rosemary emerged from the other room.
“What I am about to say about my reason for my delay has everything to do with you,” said Lucille.
“How is that?” asked McKenzie.
“I am late because of that husband of yours. Here I am, going to be on time, as I always am, to the quilting circle. I finish my chores at the mercantile, then head out to walk across the street. But, as I am minding my own business and preparing to cross the street, from out of nowhere comes Zach.” Lucille pursed her lips together and paused for a moment. “Anyway, Zach begins talking to me about some
things he needs to buy at the mercantile. I said to him, I said, ‘Now, Zach, you just go right on into the mercantile, and Fred will help you with whatever you need.’” Lucille sighed. “I know I’m the one most folks want to come to for help in the mercantile, and that Fred sometimes doesn’t provide the same level of excellent service that I do, but surely Fred could have helped Zach just this once.”
McKenzie nudged Rosemary and gave her a knowing look. The other women put on looks of surprise and shock that Zach should have distracted Lucille and caused her to be late to the quilting circle.
“So, then, Zach starts talking about his horse and how it hasn’t been feeling well lately. I told him, I said, ‘Now, Zachary Sawyer, I am sorry about your horse’s health condition, but I don’t have the time to discuss such matters with you right now.’ But Zach didn’t listen. That is so out of character for him. He is usually such a good listener. But not this time. He just kept talking and talking and talking. I lost track of what he was talking about after a while. I started to grow nervous at the thought of being late and tried to escape.”
Lucille’s breath came in gasps, as if she were a prisoner of war giving an account of an escape from an enemy camp. “Twice he caught me by the arm and said he had something else important to tell me. Then, he would go on and on and on about nothing.” Lucille stopped to catch her breath. “Finally, I said to him, I said, ‘Now, Zach, unless you have some good gossip that I may share with my quilting ladies, I must go.’ He finally released me and allowed me to come over here. I tell you, I am exhausted beyond words from all of his chatter!”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” said Eliza. “Be thankful it wasn’t my Billy Lee holdin’ y’all hostage with his words. You’d a’still been over there listenin’.”
“Oh, mercy, am I thankful for that!” declared Lucille. “So, I do want to apologize for being late, but the truth is that it really was not my fault. I suppose I could make it up to you by telling you I just heard firsthand that Gretchen Edwards is expecting another child.”