Through the Deep Waters

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Ruthie knew Mama was asking if she’d charged items at the store. “Don’t worry, Mama. I only bought one present for each. I had enough money.”

  Her mother held one hand toward the impressive stash. “But—”

  “My roommate, Miss Hubley, purchased something for all of you, too.”

  Now Papa scowled. “Well, why didn’t she come with you, then, so we could thank her?”

  “Yes, Ruthie,” Mama added. “Did you invite her?”

  Guilt pricked. She should have asked Dinah to join them. But wasn’t it enough that the man she’d set her sights on was pursuing Dinah? Did her family have to claim Dinah, too? Instead of answering her mother, Ruthie began calling the names printed on the paper tags attached to the packages’ bows. To her relief, her parents’ attention shifted to distributing the gifts under the tree. In only a few minutes, each Mead family member held a small cluster of presents.

  Dinah June crowed, “I’m youngest, so I get to open first!”

  Papa put his hand on Dinah June’s head. “This year, Junebug, let’s all open our presents at once.”

  Seth frowned. “But we always take turns so we can see what everybody got.”

  “Your sister has to hurry back to work. If we take turns, she’ll have to leave before we’re finished.”

  The younger children all dove into their presents with glee, but Seth grumbled under his breath. Another wave of guilt struck Ruthie. Was it fair for her family to sacrifice their long-held and favored traditions for her? Paper and ribbons flew, and happy chatter filled the room, but Ruthie found little pleasure in watching her younger siblings tear through their packages. What should have been a leisurely celebration of gifting one another turned into a three-minute-long melee, robbing her of seeing her family’s delight in what she chose for them.

  As soon as the children had unwrapped everything, Mama shooed them to the dining room table. She called over her shoulder, “Come along now, Ruthie and Jacob. We’ll have to eat quickly if Ruthie is to partake of any of our Christmas dinner.”

  Ruthie set her lips in a disgruntled pout. Hurry through presents. Hurry through dinner. Where was the joy of which the angels sang? Papa didn’t even have time to read the Christmas story while she was here—something she’d cherished since she was a small girl. She thumped her fist on the braided rag rug filling the middle of the floor. “I’m not hungry.” Papa stood over her with his hands on his hips. He sent her a disapproving look. “Ruthie, such behavior. And on Christmas.”

  Looking up from her spot on the floor, she felt like a little girl again. She wished she could be a little girl, as little as Dinah June, so she could climb into her father’s lap and find comfort the way she used to. She ducked her head as tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Papa …”

  He crouched on his haunches and cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Only kindness colored his tone and expression.

  Ruthie sighed. “I wish I knew. I’ve been sad for … for weeks.” A tear trailed down her cheek in a warm rivulet. “I feel as though nothing is right in my world.”

  “Ah, Ruthie …” He shifted to sit beside her, resting his elbows on his bent knees. “I think you’re experiencing growing pains. Your mother told me you have interest in Amos Ackerman.”

  Ruthie gawked at him. “She told you?”

  A soft chuckle rolled from her father’s chest. “Your mother and I discuss everything involving our children’s well-being. So yes, she told me. And we haven’t missed the fact that he is taken by your roommate.” He raised one eyebrow. “Is that why you didn’t invite her to join us today?”

  Remembering her shock and dismay at the ring on Dinah’s finger, Ruthie closed her eyes against another rush of tears. “He gave her a ring, Papa.” She braced for a lecture about putting others before herself instead of behaving selfishly.

  But Papa’s arm slipped around Ruthie’s shoulder and pulled her close. She snuggled in, grateful for her father’s understanding. His chin tipped against her temple. “I’m sure it hurts, having to give up on thinking of a future with him. I wouldn’t have opposed it. Mr. Ackerman seems to be a good Christian man. But apparently God has something else in mind for you.”

  Ruthie angled her head to peer at her father. “Do you think so?”

  Papa feigned surprise. “Why wouldn’t I think so? Doesn’t the Bible we believe say God’s thoughts of us outnumber the grains of sand? And doesn’t it tell us God makes good plans for His children?”

  Ruthie sniffed and laid her head on Papa’s shoulder again. “Then why did He let Mr. Ackerman choose Dinah instead of me? God knows how much I … I like Mr. Ackerman.”

  “Ruthie, you’re looking at Mr. Ackerman’s choosing to court Dinah instead of you as an end to a journey.”

  She jerked upright. “Because it is! Maybe it’s childish, Papa, but I imagined a life with him. The imaginings felt good and right. But now—”

  “But now you’re being sent down a different path.” Papa took her hand and squeezed it, his touch assuring. “Instead of the end, Ruthie, this is the beginning. You stand ready to take the first step on the road God wants you to follow. Now that your plans have been set aside, your heart is open to explore the plans God has for you.”

  Ruthie wasn’t sure her aching heart was open for anything. But she wouldn’t argue with Papa. Especially not on Christmas Day. She sagged against him again, letting his strength bolster her. He curved his arms around her and held her close for several seconds. Then he planted a kiss on the top of her head and gave her a little shake.

  “All right now. No more moping. New beginnings are happy things. Maybe a little uncertain, even a little scary, but mostly happy and exciting.”

  Papa stood and pulled Ruthie up with him. “Your mama peeked in a bit ago and didn’t interrupt us, but I’m sure she’d like a few minutes with you before you have to go back to work. So let’s join her and the children, hmm?”

  They started toward the dining room, but after only two steps Ruthie stopped and caught Papa’s hand. “Will you pray for me, Papa, so I will know what I’m meant to do? I’m so confused.”

  He delivered a tender kiss on her forehead. “I pray for you every day, my darling daughter. Your mama and I both pray for you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Remember God wants good things for His children—the best things—but we have to be willing to listen for His guidance and then go where He leads. Will you listen, Ruthie, and respond with obedience?”

  When Papa spoke to her so seriously, with tears glittering in his eyes, Ruthie couldn’t refuse what he asked. “I will. I promise.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Ruthie joined her family at the table for a few bites of the wonderful meal Mama had prepared. She talked and laughed and teased as if she hadn’t a care in the world. But underneath, a question tormented her. What if God’s plan was for her to work as a chambermaid at the Clifton Hotel for the rest of her life? Would she be able to be obedient to such a call?

  Dinah

  Dinah finished her work by noon on Christmas Day. Only a few guests resided beneath the hotel’s roof on this holiday, giving her a rare day of leisure. But she had to be available if someone needed something, so instead of going to her room, she took her lunch, her Bible, and her writing paper and pencil to the chambermaids’ parlor. While she listened for a beckon-me bell to jangle, she could read or write a letter to Mr. Ackerman.

  To Amos … her beau.

  Just the thought of her beau made her heart flutter, but she couldn’t deny experiencing a stab of loneliness as she entered the beautifully decorated yet empty room. As a child, she’d been lonely both at school and in her home even though people were always around. But none of those people had included her in their circles, making her feel isolated. Remembering past days of sitting in her attic room or on the playground or in the schoolroom all alone raised an ache in the center of her breast. How she hated being all by herself …

  She
gave herself a little shake. Shouldn’t she be accustomed to loneliness? Of course she should. Being alone wasn’t anything new. She placed her Bible and paper in one chair and sank into the second one with her plate, determined to set aside the melancholy feeling. But she couldn’t. Christmas Day—a time when families gathered—was the worst day to be by herself. She lowered her head and caught sight of the ring Amos had given her. For a moment she paused and pointed toward the ceiling to admire the slim gold band circling her first finger.

  Amos had expressed disappointment that the ring didn’t fit her ring finger, but it fit perfectly on her first finger. And she liked it there. In only one day, she’d developed the habit of rubbing her thumb along the smooth band or tapping the yellow-orange gem to her lower lip when she was thinking. The ring offered a constant reminder that someone—someone kind and good and loving—wanted to build a life with her. She pressed the stone to her lip again. Like a kiss. Hope flickered in her heart. Would the knowledge of Amos’s care for her chase away all the ugly feelings of unworthiness that had plagued her for as long as she could remember?

  Thinking of Amos drew her attention to her Bible. He’d mentioned a biblical woman named Dinah in one of his letters. While she ate, she could find the story and then let him know she’d read about the Bible-Dinah. Her smoked-ham sandwich in one hand, she opened the Bible with the other and leafed through page by page until she found the thirty-fourth chapter of Genesis. Leaning toward the chair seat, where the Bible lay open, she began to read, whispering the words.

  “ ‘And Dinah the daughter of Leah, which she bare unto Jacob, went out to see the daughters of the land. And when Shechem the son of Hamor the Hivite, prince of the country, saw her, he took her, and lay with her, and defiled her.’ ” Dinah gasped. She dropped the sandwich onto the plate and slapped the Book closed. But even though the printed words were hidden, they continued to blaze in her memory.

  “He took her, and lay with her, and defiled her.”

  “He … defiled her.”

  “He … defiled her.”

  She pressed the ring to her lip until her teeth cut the tender skin inside her mouth, willing the pain to rid the ugly reference from her mind. But the images remained, bringing with them agonizing memories of being taken, being forced upon a bed, being defiled. Stifling a little cry, she rose and paced the room. Such heartrending pictures the few verses painted in her mind. Such empathy she felt toward the woman of long ago. Chills broke out over her body followed by waves of heat as she battled an intense emotion she couldn’t even define.

  She whirled toward the Bible, which lay at an angle on the chair’s cushion, so innocent looking. So inviting. She quivered from head to toe. Bits and pieces of the stories in her fairy-tale book tiptoed through her mind. Many of the stories included difficulties, but always evil was conquered and the hero and heroine lived happily ever after. Hugging herself, she struggled to bring her tremors under control. She should read the rest of the story about Dinah. It could have a happy ending.

  Feeling as though she walked through waist-deep water, Dinah moved slowly, painstakingly, toward the chair and picked up the Bible. No longer hungry, she set the sandwich aside, curled in the seat, and opened the Book again. She read the chapter in its entirety. And when she finished, the words swam on the page as tears filled her eyes. Perhaps some would say the story ended well, with the defiler and his entire clan punished by death, but the ending gave Dinah no satisfaction.

  Where was the happily ever after? All that remained at the close of the tale was a woman defiled, her reputation permanently ruined. Brothers with blood on their hands. A father now fearing revenge against his entire family. Knowing what had happened to the Bible-Dinah, even though her brothers defended her, made her heart ache. Why had Amos mentioned the woman in the Bible named Dinah?

  When she saw him Thursday, she would ask him if he thought the brothers had been right to kill an entire clan because of one man’s vile act. She would ask if he thought Dinah, who had been defiled, ever recovered from the harm inflicted upon her. She would ask—

  She sat upright, shaking her head. No, she wouldn’t ask about the Bible-Dinah. Because if she talked about the woman in the Bible who’d been defiled, she would surely cry, and Amos would wonder why she’d been moved so deeply. He might guess she really asked about herself. He might react the way Bible-Dinah’s brothers had—seeking revenge. And she couldn’t bear to see her gentle, loving beau stirred to such anger and hatred.

  So she wouldn’t ask. She would bury the knowledge of the Bible-Dinah the way she tried to bury the memories of her time in the hotel in Chicago. She hugged the Bible and closed her eyes against a fierce sting of tears. She would remember Dinah’s defilement—she would remember her own defilement—no more.

  In the nights following Christmas, Dinah’s dreams changed. No longer only reliving terrifying moments from her own experience, she became a helpless witness to Bible-Dinah’s attack. She would awaken crying, riddled with guilt at her inability to save the poor woman from pain and suffering.

  Ruthie had begged Dinah to share her dreams—“Mama always told me, once you say out loud what’s frightening you, it will lose its power over you.”

  Dinah was tempted. She longed to be free of the horrible nightmares. But she didn’t want to put the pictures into Ruthie’s head. So she suffered in silence.

  On Thursday heavy snows fell, carried on a strong wind that kept everyone holed up inside. Amos didn’t come for their lunch meeting, and although Dinah hadn’t expected him to make his way into town in such frigid conditions, she missed her hour with him. By Sunday the snow had cleared, but a guest rented the buggy the girls used for transportation to church and the ground was too mucky for them to walk. Ruthie moped all day over missing the service and the minutes of time with her family, adding to Dinah’s doldrums.

  Monday, New Year’s Eve, Dinah hurried to the lunch counter at noon, almost desperate to see Amos, only to receive a message from one of the luncheon-counter workers that he couldn’t meet with her. He’d had to hurry back to the farm with a little coal-oil stove he hoped would keep the newest batch of chicks from freezing. When she found a letter anchored beneath one leg of the chair on the porch—they’d stored the cushions during the winter months—she was cheered. Until she unfolded it and realized the damp porch boards had caused the ink to run. She couldn’t read most of the message, and she spent the remainder of the day mourning not only her lost hour with Amos, but also the lost words from him.

  The hotel hosted a New Year’s Eve dance for the townspeople of Florence to welcome the year 1884, and both Ruthie and Dinah were released to attend. Dinah had no desire to go to a party—she wasn’t in a festive mood—but Ruthie’s parents would be there, so Ruthie eagerly donned the dress she’d worn to the Calico Ball and asked Dinah to fashion her hair.

  As Dinah pinned Ruthie’s wavy red-gold locks into a mass of curls on top of her head, Ruthie said, “Why don’t you come, too, Dinah? It would do you good, I think, to have a little fun.”

  Dinah shook her head.

  Ruthie’s green-eyed gaze begged Dinah from the mirror’s reflection. “Not even for an hour or so? You wouldn’t have to dance. Except maybe with my papa.”

  She’d promised herself to Amos, and she wouldn’t dance with anyone else, not even Ruthie’s father. “No, thank you.”

  Ruthie caught Dinah’s hand. “But if you dance with Papa, you can talk to him. About your night terrors.”

  Dinah tried to withdraw her hand, but Ruthie held tight.

  “Papa is a minister. He’s a very good listener. And he gives wonderful advice. He could help you stop having the bad dreams.”

  “Ruthie …” Dinah nearly groaned her roommate’s name. How could she convince Ruthie to let her be? Ruthie thought her father could solve any problem, but the only person who could help Dinah was Amos. He was her beau—her rescuer. Surely the severity of her dreams these past few days were because she hadn’t see
n him for a week. She needed to stockpile good memories with him so the ugly memories would be forced out of her mind. Talking to Preacher Mead would be a useless frittering of time. She needed only Amos.

  Ruthie tugged on Dinah’s hand. “I really think you should—”

  Dinah slipped free of Ruthie’s grasp and picked up another hairpin. “You go. Enjoy your time with your folks. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  Ruthie set her lips in a grim line and sat quiet and still while Dinah finished her hair. When Dinah secured the last pin and turned away from the dressing table, Ruthie said, “What will you do this evening if you don’t go to the party?”

  Dinah shrugged. “I’ll probably spend the evening in our parlor in case someone rings the beckon-me bell. We do have guests in the hotel, you know.”

  Ruthie heaved a mighty sigh. “Well, I don’t mind telling you I feel guilty going to a party when you plan to work.” An impish smile crept up her cheek. “But I don’t feel guilty enough to skip the celebration.” She opened a little drawer on the dressing table and took out the locket Dinah had given her for Christmas. She slipped the chain over her head, then gave the mirror a peek. “Perfect.”

  She fingered the oval locket, her expression turning pensive. “Who knows? Maybe tonight I’ll meet the man whose photograph will go inside this locket someday.” She spun and captured Dinah in an impulsive embrace. Taken by surprise, Dinah didn’t have time to stiffen before Ruthie released her and crossed to the door. She flashed a quick smile over her shoulder. “By the time I get in, you’ll probably be asleep, so I’ll say happy New Year now.”

  Dinah echoed, “Happy New Year.” But her voice held little gaiety.

  Ruthie clicked the door closed behind her, and her pattering footsteps receded. Dinah waited until she was certain Ruthie had made it down the stairs before collecting her writing paper and pencil and scuffing to the door. For a moment, she considered putting on her Calico Ball dress and going to the party after all. Just to watch. Then she shook her head. If Amos couldn’t be there, she didn’t want to be there. She’d only be lonely without him. She’d do as she’d told Ruthie.