Beloved Enemy, The (House of Winslow Book #30)

by Gilbert, Morris

  After the meal Missouri Ann said, “Now, you go out for a walk or something, Kefira.”

  “No, I’d like to help with the dishes.”

  “Plenty of hands here to do that. You go along, now.”

  Kefira smiled shyly as Hannah came over and gave her a hug, commenting on her great success as a cook. “Thank you,” Kefira said. “It wasn’t much, really.”

  Kefira left the house, and as she walked along the path that led down to the river, she could feel the touches of spring already in the air. When she got to the water’s edge, she stood for a long time listening to the gurgling sounds the water made as it poured over the rocks. Once a fish broke the surface, startling her, and she remembered that she had promised Kat she’d go fishing with her.

  She moved downstream, slowly thinking of how strange it was to find herself on a farm in Georgia, so far from New York. The week had been the most pleasant she could remember. She had never seen a family any closer than the Winslows, and their Christianity puzzled her. She had been afraid of Christians for years, but she had seen nothing but kindness and goodness in these people. I wonder if all Christians are like that. No, they’re not all that way, because I’ve seen some that are cruel. The thought troubled her, and she struggled with it for a time.

  She had almost decided to go back when she heard a dog barking and turned to look back toward the house. She was struck by the scene before her: the freshly painted white two-story house, fields stretching toward distant mountains on one side and toward a forest on the other. Even the large dog in the yard, barking at something high in a tree, seemed familiar—and she suddenly realized how alike this place was to the dream she had had all those months ago in New York. She heard someone call her name and dismissed her fancy.

  She looked around and spotted Josh coming along the path that bordered the river. He was carrying a small rifle under his arm and greeted her cheerfully. “Thought I’d come out and maybe get a rabbit or a squirrel but no luck. Mind if I join you?”

  “No, it’s a beautiful evening.”

  “Spring’s almost here,” Josh said. He noted that a little wind was running its cool breath over the water. “Always liked this river,” he said. “It seems to sing a little song as it makes its way down toward the ocean.”

  “This will really go to the ocean?”

  “Eventually.” Josh nodded. “Let’s sit down awhile. I’m still feeling some strain.” The two sat down on a large tree that had fallen over years ago, and Josh leaned the rifle carefully against it. “This river will go down to a bigger river, maybe the Chattahoochee, and the Chattahoochee will go to the ocean.” He found her watching him in a strange way and noted how beautiful her eyes were. “Then it’ll rise out of the ocean,” he continued. “The sun will shine and draw the water up, and it’ll make a cloud. Then it’ll come back over land, turn to rain, and start its journey all over again.”

  “I never thought about that.”

  “Things don’t change much. As wise old Solomon said in the Old Testament, ‘There’s nothing new under the sun.’”

  The two sat there, with Josh speaking lightly about the world and the way it worked, and finally Kefira turned to him. “Josh, what do you really want?”

  Startled, Josh faced her, his eyes widening. “Why, I guess I’m not quite sure.”

  “You must want something. Didn’t you dream about something when you were a boy?”

  Josh did not answer for a moment. A troubled expression touched his gray eyes, and then he laughed ruefully. “Well, as a matter of fact, I always wanted to be an archeologist.”

  “That’s someone who digs up bones, isn’t it?”

  “Bones and other things.”

  “Why didn’t you become one?”

  “Because I was a fool. We had too much money. I got to drinking. But there was a time when I had a chance.” His eyes grew animated as he said, “One of my college professors was an archeologist named Phineas Welles. I read all of his books and went with him on a dig.”

  “What’s a dig?”

  “That means you dig up bones and things, like you said. That time we were digging up Indian mounds in Louisiana.”

  “You like that?” she asked curiously. “It sounds boring.”

  “Oh, it isn’t!” Josh exclaimed. “It’s the most exciting thing in the world, at least to me. Why, you never know what you’re going to find next.”

  Kefira listened as Josh spoke with enthusiasm. Once he threw his arm out to illustrate a point and grunted with pain, but he continued speaking of his dream. Kefira thought suddenly of the dreams she had had, especially the ones in a strange land with the enormous stone lion with a man’s face. She had dreamed of that several times.

  Finally Josh grew silent, and Kefira asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just sad, Kefira. There was an article in the paper just this week about Dr. Welles. He’s gotten so famous now that he even makes the national news. He’s planning a dig in Egypt.”

  “And you’d like to go with him.”

  “More than anything in the world, but of course, it’s impossible.”

  “Why is it impossible?”

  Josh turned to her and saw that she was watching him carefully. Her eyes were wide spaced and so dark blue that they seemed to have no bottom. She had a woman’s clean-edged lips, and a summer darkness tinged her skin where her dress opened at the neck, showing the smooth ivory of her throat. She was wearing a dress that had belonged to his sister Jenny, and he could not help but be aware of her gentle curves in the soft cotton frock. The light was kind to her, revealing the womanliness in face and figure, her face a mirror that changed as her feelings changed. Somewhat confused by his sudden awareness of this young woman who had come to mean so much in his life, he dropped his eyes. “I couldn’t do it,” he said. “I’d have to go back to college and learn ancient languages.”

  Kefira reached out suddenly and took his hand. She did this unthinkingly, for it was something she would not normally have done—in fact, had never done—but the dejection in Josh’s sad face and stooping shoulders touched her. “You can do it if you want to, Josh,” she whispered.

  Josh was startled by her touch. He turned to her and saw the concern in her face. He suddenly lifted her hand, kissed it, and saw a rich flush come to her cheeks. “There’s a kind heart speaking there.” He stopped for a moment, then did something that shocked them both. Maybe the urges of a lone man always move toward a compassionate woman, but suddenly he wanted to touch her, for her nearness brought forth longings he had not felt for some time. It was not just her physical beauty that drew him, but that which lay beneath. There was a sweetness in her that trouble had not destroyed, and though he didn’t understand why, she had the power to stir him and to touch his loneliness. He reached forward, kissed her on the lips, and for one brief moment she returned his kiss.

  Her lips were soft and yielding under his, the lips of a giving woman—and then she suddenly pushed him back and anger flared in her eyes. She struck him in the chest with her fist and said, “Don’t you ever do that again, Josh!”

  Josh blinked and said quietly, “I’m sorry. I meant nothing by it, Kefira, but you’re a comfort to a lonely man.”

  “Never touch me again!” Kefira rose, turned, and walked away, her back stiff and straight.

  As Josh watched her go, he thought of what a hard time she must have had with men in her life, and knew he had been wrong. “What were you thinking about?” he accused himself bitterly. “You should have known better.” The evening seemed spoiled now, and he sat there heavily, unable to recapture the excitement that had come to him. But he knew he would remember her kiss for a long time.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A House Filled With Love

  Kefira found a special pleasure in helping Hannah, Missouri Ann, and Jenny. She had risen early on Saturday morning and all day long felt strong enough to work around the house. Actually there was plenty of work to do, for as she had dis
covered, the nearly hundred-year-old house had been allowed to run down considerably before the Winslows moved in and started fixing it up. She learned that it had been the girlhood home of Lewis’s first wife, and almost every day someone managed to speak of how grateful they were to have had such a refuge when the Wall Street crash took away all their resources.

  Kefira was both intrigued and troubled by the casual yet fervent way Missouri Ann and the other family members spoke of Jesus. She had been raised among people who despised Jesus Christ, so much that some of them simply refused to say the name. The best friend of her father had turned crimson when he spoke of the Christian faith and insisted on calling Jesus “that man.” Such feelings had been common enough in New York among the Jewish community, and Kefira had absorbed it along with other cultural biases. Now, however, she saw that the Winslow house was filled with love, and for some reason this troubled her. Before she had come here, it had been easy to dislike Christians, but how could she dislike these people who laughed and obviously enjoyed life and had taken her in almost as a family member?

  Perhaps her relationship with Kat had something to do with Kefira’s warm feeling for the family. She had never met a youngster more natural or uninhibited. Kat simply said whatever came into her mind so that she was a creature without guile. It was April now and spring had come to the land, bringing the verdant odors of the earth, the loamy smell of the fields, and the warmth that would quicken the seeds Lewis and Clint planted. Kat had lured Kefira out on her expeditions into the woods, and Kefira was amazed at how the girl loved the out-of-doors. Kat seemed to know every footpath through the woods bordering the farm and had taken Kefira to the spots in the river where fish could be pulled out almost at will. There was a naturalness about Kat Winslow that made Kefira wish she herself had some of that same quality. At times she worried about the girl, who seemed to have no idea that there were monsters in the world—dangers and problems that lurked, waiting to destroy the naïve and the innocent. Kat simply moved through the world with wide-open eyes and somehow managed to keep the sweetest spirit Kefira had ever seen.

  Kefira was mopping the hall that separated the bedrooms on the second floor when Kat thundered up the stairs. “Kefira, you’ve got to come and see our program at church!”

  Kefira was wearing her hair tied up with a bandana to keep it clean, and she straightened up and smiled. “What kind of a program?”

  “It’s a play, and I’ve got a wonderful part!”

  “What kind of a play is it?”

  “I’m not going to tell, but you have to come. You will, won’t you?”

  Kefira had been waiting for Missouri Ann or Lewis or perhaps Josh to invite her to church, but so far they had not. Now the invitation came so naturally that she felt some assurance. “I suppose I could go. I’d like to see you in the play.”

  Kat danced over, reached up, and pulled Kefira down and kissed her noisily. “It’ll be great! There’ll be good singing too, and afterward there’s going to be food to eat!”

  “That’s what food’s good for,” Kefira said, laughing. She watched as Kat went sailing down the stairs, taking them three at a time, and then looked up to see Missouri Ann come out of the bedroom on the end.

  “Kat makes enough noise to wake the dead,” Missouri Ann said, chuckling.

  “She asked me to go to a program at church. Do you know anything about it?”

  “Oh yes. She’s been practicing for a couple of weeks now. I hope you’ll come.”

  Kefira hesitated, and a troubled light came into her clear, dark blue eyes. “I’ve never been inside of a Christian church before.”

  “Well, I’ve never been in a synagogue either, but I’ll tell you what. You go to church with me, and I’ll go to synagogue with you.”

  Kefira smiled. “Is there one close?”

  “Not that I know of. But maybe you can tell me what happens in one of your services. I’d be happy to learn all about it. And if we can find out if there’s a synagogue near here, I’ll go visit it with you.”

  Kefira knew that Missouri Ann Winslow would do exactly that. She had learned to respect this woman, so strong of body and so close to the earth. In a way she was Kat grown-up, with a naturalness and an inner beauty that intrigued Kefira. “All right,” she said. “I’ll take you up on that.”

  ****

  Josh was sitting very still staring into the fire as Kefira came into the parlor late that same evening. She saw the newspaper on his lap and noted that he quickly folded it and put it away as he looked up to greet her. “It’s been a long day. You’re working too hard, Kefira.”

  “I don’t think so.” Kefira moved over and picked up the poker. She loved to stir the fire and watch the golden sparks rise up through the chimney. “We don’t really need a fire tonight. It’s so warm, but I like fires. We never had an open fireplace where I grew up. I don’t think anyone did.”

  “We did at our house in New York. Of course, I was too dumb to appreciate them. I’ve gotten to where I like everything about fires. I even like going out cutting the trees and sawing them and then splitting them.”

  Kefira sat down and glanced at the paper and waited for him to mention it, but he did not. “Kat asked me to go to church for her program.”

  “I hope you’ll go. She’s real excited about it.”

  “I promised her I would, but I’m a little bit afraid. I’ve never been in a church before.”

  Josh smiled easily. “Nobody will jump on you, I’m sure. It’s not a regular service anyway. A program for the children mostly. I’m glad you’re going.”

  The two sat there watching the fire, and occasionally the logs gave off popping sounds, then sighed and settled down. The clock ticked loudly, and Josh mentioned that this clock had been in their family for a long time. “Our mother told me about it before she died. She loved it better than any other piece of furniture in the house. I’m glad it’s still here.”

  “You miss her a lot, don’t you, Josh?”

  “Yes, I guess I always will.” He turned and chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “Missouri Ann is a wonderful woman. I’m glad Dad found her. Or she found him. However it was.”

  “What are you reading in the paper?” Kefira finally asked.

  A disturbed look crossed Josh’s countenance. “I was reading again about the dig my old professor, Dr. Welles, is going to make in Egypt.”

  Kefira remembered the last time they spoke about this, when he had kissed her. Neither had ever mentioned the moment again, and her guard had been up. But since that afternoon Josh had made no more advances, and she had grown comfortable again in his company. “I’d like to see you go on that dig, Josh,” she said suddenly.

  “I don’t see how I could.”

  “Do you know how lucky you are, Josh?”

  “Lucky!” He shook his head. “I’m a jailbird without a dime.”

  “But you know what you want to do.”

  “Knowing what someone wants to do isn’t doing it. I missed my chance.”

  Kefira somehow felt strongly about this. She was surprised at what an intense interest she felt in Josh Winslow’s life and well-being. Knowing that she had saved him from a terrible beating, perhaps saved his life, gave her a possessive feeling she could not explain. Leaning forward now, she said in an intense tone, “I think you ought to do what you want to do. There are so many people who can’t, but you could, Josh.”

  “It would take money and I’m broke. Besides, I’m too old to start.”

  “You’re strong and young, and money is not the biggest problem in the world. Suppose you were blind or crippled? Then you’d have no chance.”

  Josh gave her an astonished look. “Well, that’s right, of course,” he said. “But it’s just like a mountain, Kefira.”

  “I heard your stepmother reading from your Bible the other day. It came from your New Testament. It was something about if a mountain’s in your way, just speak to it.”

  “That’s right,” Josh smile
d. “But I don’t have Missouri Ann’s faith.”

  Kefira said no more. She grew quiet, and finally she rose and said, “Good night, Josh. I wish you’d try to be what you want to be.”

  As soon as she left, Josh picked up the paper and read the story again. He had practically memorized the article, but now something began moving deep down inside. He was suddenly aware that Kefira’s words had touched him deeply. I’ve had life so easy, and now this thing that I want so much is right in front of me. I don’t even know if Professor Welles would remember me, and there are probably fifty men begging him to be included in the expedition. There’s no reason why he should choose me. Doesn’t make any sense. These thoughts rushed through his mind, but then again he remembered Kefira’s intense expression and the warmth of her words as she had spoken. “I wish you’d try to be what you want to be.” He got up too quickly, took a deep breath at the stab of pain, then went over to stand over the fire. He stared down into it, thinking intently and wondering if he had enough gumption to even try what Kefira suggested.

  ****

  Kefira had expected to be as tense as a coiled spring at the church service but had been surprised to find out that after the initial fear, she relaxed and enjoyed the play very much. She knew several of the people who had gathered for the program, and several of them had come up to speak to her. She had felt inhibited at first and had said little as she sat between Josh and Jenny during the performance.

  The action took place on a makeshift stage with curtains, which, Jenny informed her, she had worked on along with the other ladies. The play was composed of Bible stories from the New Testament acted out by the children. Kefira, of course, was not familiar with these, but she could follow the action quite easily. She was particularly delighted by Kat, who threw herself into the role with great vigor and spoke her lines loudly enough to be heard outside the church.

  “She overacts a bit, but isn’t she great?” Jenny whispered.

  “She’s wonderful,” Kefira whispered back.