Hope Rekindled

by Tracie Peterson

  “Yessuh.” She stepped back and reached for his hat. “Please step inside and I’ll fetch him.”

  G.W. entered the house, none too surprised at the extravagant decor. Statues and paintings adorned every possible space. While completely out of place in Perkinsville, no doubt Albright felt right at home.

  Essie disappeared for several minutes and G.W. continued to study the interior of the entry. A marble-topped receiving table near the center of the room was graced with a stylish silver vase and a huge arrangement of flowers.

  “Mr. Albright say you can come to his office,” Essie said from the hallway arch.

  G.W. squared his shoulders and let the young woman lead him. There would be nothing pleasant about this meeting—of that he was certain.

  Lord, he prayed silently, please go before me. Give me the right words to say.

  As they made their way, G.W. noted that the rest of the house was just as elaborate as the foyer. When Essie ushered him in to Stuart Albright’s office, he noted the room boasted pieces of art, including a huge oil of Jael dressed in a daringly low-cut gown. Embarrassed at the risqué piece, G.W. quickly glanced at the book-laden cases that lined one entire wall.

  “Do you not care for my painting?” Albright chuckled. “I believe beauty should be appreciated. You can hardly appreciate what you cannot see.”

  G.W. felt at a loss for words. He shook his head, but still couldn’t find his tongue.

  Albright was not a patient man. “Why are you here?”

  G.W. turned to address the man. Stuart sat behind a massive mahogany desk that very nearly reached from wall to wall. Of course, the room wasn’t all that big, but it was made even smaller by the ridiculous furnishings.

  “We need to talk,” G.W. finally said.

  Albright’s icy blue eyes seemed to lend a chill to the room. He motioned to the red leather chair. “Sit down, Vandermark, and tell me why you’ve come to disturb my day.”

  G.W. tried not to let his temper flare at his host’s rudeness. He took his seat and folded his hands. For a moment, he wished he had his hat back so that he could twist the rim, as he often did when feeling edgy. Instead he rubbed his leg.

  “I’ve come on behalf of Vandermark Logging. We want to know what your plans are for the future.”

  Albright looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “I’m afraid there is little to tell. We have been trying to decide what is most advantageous to our associates. Obviously much of the work force has already left the area. Getting them back might be difficult. Building another mill here . . . well . . . I haven’t yet been convinced that it would be to our advantage.”

  “Then I’m here to demand you release Vandermark Logging from our contract. If the sawmill isn’t operating, we’ve gotta sell our logs to someone who is operating.”

  The man laughed. “Whatever makes you think I would release you?”

  G.W. leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “You seem to be concerned with what’s best for you and yours. I’m thinkin’ this would be one of those things.”

  “Is this your way of threatening me?” Albright fixed him with a hard stare. “Because if you think to intimidate me, you might as well give up. I’ve crossed better men and won.”

  G.W. eased back in the chair. “Without a mill up and runnin’, neither of us are makin’ money.”

  Stuart laughed. “You may not be making any money, but I’m doing quite well for myself. A wise man diversifies, Mr. Vandermark. It’s hardly my fault you’ve failed to do so. You’re the one who agreed to provide your logs exclusively to my sawmill.”

  It was hard to remain seated, but G.W. managed somehow. “You need to know that we’ve talked to a lawyer. He tells us we are well within our rights to sue for breach of contract. You’ve taken longer than needed to make a decision regardin’ the mill. A court would most likely release us from the contract and allow us to team up elsewhere. We’re willin’ to take this as far as we need to if you won’t see reason.”

  “My, my. You certainly get right to the point.” Albright leaned back in his chair as if completely unconcerned. “I suppose you think this comes as a surprise to me. That I have failed to plan for this possibility.”

  “I don’t reckon I care one way or the other. If you’re surprised, then that’s the way it is. We still plan to do what’s necessary to take care of our business.”

  “I see. Well, let me assure you, Mr. Vandermark, I’m not a man to be threatened or forced. When I feel backed into a corner, I simply come out fighting.”

  G.W. shrugged and rubbed his leg. “That’s your right. I’ve cornered many a wild hog that felt the same way. The results weren’t in their favor.”

  Albright clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes to mere slits.

  G.W. knew the man was trying to intimidate him, but the only thing G.W. feared from Albright was the way he was bent on hurting the Vandermarks. And even then, it wasn’t so much fear as irritation.

  “Mr. Vandermark, do you suppose that a country bumpkin such as yourself could best me at anything?”

  G.W. couldn’t resist. He grinned smugly. “I got the gal, didn’t I?”

  Albright’s face flushed scarlet, and his eyes seemed to bug out of his head.

  With nostrils flaring, Albright got to his feet. “You think you can throw that in my face and win? It only serves to strengthen my resolve to see you destroyed. You have no power to stand against me. I will crush you like so many ants beneath my feet.”

  G.W. crossed his arms against his chest and hoped he looked as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “Seems to me, Albright, that you’re the one without a leg to stand on. You’re used to bullyin’ folks to get what you want—includin’ women. Folks out this way don’t much appreciate that kind of thing. You might have all the power in the world back East, but here in Texas, things are done different and folks look out for one another. My suggestion is that you get over losin’ Lizzie and love the woman you married. You’d think with all that money you’re always braggin’ about, you could afford to buy her whole dresses.”

  Albright rounded the desk and stared down at G.W. with intense hatred. “I will see an end to you and your family.”

  G.W. got to his feet and stood nose to nose with the man. “This is between you and me. It’s got nothin’ to do with my family, and I’d thank you to leave them out of this.”

  “Your family took in Elizabeth when she ran away from me. They deserve to pay for their part—especially that sister of yours. If she hadn’t interfered, Elizabeth would never have changed her mind. Your sister is as much my enemy as you are.”

  “I’m warnin’ you, Albright. Leave Deborah out of this. You have a problem with me, then deal with me. Otherwise, back off.”

  Stuart’s face seemed to relax and to G.W.’s surprise, he smiled. “You really have no idea what I’m capable of doing. I find it rather amusing.”

  “I hope you’re just as amused when I beat that smirk off your face.” G.W. felt a hint of satisfaction as Albright took a step back. “You’ve threatened my family and imposed your will on the good people of this community, but I’m gonna see that it comes to an end. Hopefully, I can do it with legal means, but if not . . .” He let the words hang in the air before turning for the door.

  “Your threats mean nothing! Nothing!” Albright yelled after him. “I have more friends and power than you can even imagine. I’ll see you destroyed if you dare try to break this contract.”

  G.W. paused at the door and shook his head. “Don’t seem I have much to lose then, seein’s how your actions threaten to destroy us if we sit idle. I’d rather go down with a fight. We’ve got a saying around here when things seem darkest. ‘Remember the Alamo!’ ”

  Stuart took three steps forward. “As I recall, Mr. Vandermark, your precious Texans lost that fight.”

  With a smile, G.W. nodded. “But I reckon we redeemed ourselves at San Jacinto. You mighta won the first battle, but you only managed to get our dander up to wi
n the war.”

  “I can’t help but feel like all of this is my fault,” Lizzie said, tears forming in her eyes.

  Deborah embraced her. “Now, we’ve had this talk before. Stuart Albright is a vindictive man, and he is the only one to blame.”

  G.W. placed Rutger on the floor and came to stand beside his wife. Deborah backed away to let her brother take charge. She knew his love for Lizzie ran deep and he would protect her and their family no matter the cost. Would Christopher offer her the same support? He gave it readily enough for his family.

  “We’re not gonna let him win, Lizzie.” G.W. stroked her cheek. “We’ve got the Lord on our side. His evil ways won’t stand against God’s truth.”

  “Oh, G.W., you don’t know how Stuart can be. He has all the money he needs to ruin us.”

  Annie started fussing, as if sensing her mother’s fear. Deborah went to the little girl and picked her up. “There, now, you mustn’t fret. Your mama and papa are right here.” She bounced the child on her hip and looked to Lizzie. “G.W. is right. God is stronger than any Albright. We need to put this to prayer and trust that God will help us. It’s not like we’re seeking to hurt Stuart; we simply want what’s right.”

  Lizzie took her daughter from Deborah and hugged her close. “I wish that I had your faith, but I don’t.” With that, she all but ran from the room.

  Deborah looked to her brother and sighed. “She has no blame in this, but only time and the Lord will convince her.”

  Rutger crawled to his father and began to whimper, pulling himself up by G.W.’s pants leg. G.W. lifted the boy and rubbed his head. “I think it’s nap time. I’ll take him in and help Lizzie get them to sleep.”

  She smiled. “You’re a good father, G.W. I always knew you would be.”

  He shook his head. “Sometimes I question whether I am or not. It seems Pa would never have allowed Albright to have this kind of control over us. I wish I had his wisdom.”

  “You can have the wisdom you need, G.W. The first chapter of James says that if anyone lacks wisdom they have only to ask God and He will give it freely.”

  G.W. put Rutger to his shoulder. “Maybe I should spend a little bit of time in that book.”

  Deborah patted his shoulder. “It couldn’t hurt.”

  She waited until he’d left the room to let down her guard. Her shoulders slumped. “I would do well to take my own advice.”

  Christopher’s absence weighed heavy on her mind even though it had only been a few days. She tried not to let her heart lose hope. Surely everything would soon be back to normal.

  “You certainly are deep in thought,” her mother said from the door.

  Lifting her face, Deborah gave a brief nod. “That I am.”

  “Christopher?”

  She crossed her arms against her chest. “I can’t help but worry. I try not to, but with something like this . . . well . . .” She shrugged. “I suppose times like these are meant to grow my faith.”

  Mother crossed to where Deborah stood. She pushed back an errant strand of her daughter’s dark hair and smiled. “He’s a good man who loves you. He’ll be back before you know it.”

  “It seems like he’s been gone months instead of days. I can’t help but feel that Christopher’s family troubles are going to be more than either of us can deal with.”

  “Nonsense. There is nothing the two of you can’t face with God’s help.”

  Deborah wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist. Mother hugged her close. “I just hate not knowing what the future holds in store.”

  “Oh, my darling girl, it’s not necessary for us to know the future. All that matters is that we know the One who holds it. God has already made provision—you’ll see.”

  Arriving in Kansas City three days later than he’d hoped due to heavy rains that had washed out part of the tracks, Christopher immediately hired a cab to drive him to his parents’ home in the poorer section of town. The ramshackle dwellings where the more unfortunate residents lived were poorly constructed—some looking as if a good wind would surely cause their collapse. His overriding impression of his parents’ house from his last visit was that it was in need of demolition more than anything. Perhaps if the present complications weren’t too grave, he could help his mother spruce up the place a bit.

  Christopher winced as the carriage found every rough spot on the road, and he banged from one side to the other. Hopes of comfort abandoned, he instead fought sleep as the driver continued through the city. It had been a long time since he’d been this tired. It was almost as if someone had placed a heavy weight atop him. He told himself it was just the humidity and threat of rain, but he knew different.

  He closed his eyes and saw Deborah’s dark eyes filled with sorrow. She had tried so hard to be assuring when he’d delivered the news of leaving her. Her willingness to support his decision only served to remind him of how much she loved him.

  And I love her. I love her more than I ever thought possible to love another. She is everything to me.

  Leaving her that day had been so hard. He pounded his fist against the carriage in a series of frustrated strokes—or at least he thought he had. Startled by the noise, he sat up and opened his eyes. Somehow, he’d dozed off. The carriage had stopped and the cabbie or someone was pounding loudly on the roof. He hadn’t thought it possible to sleep, but apparently his body could simply take no more. Opening the carriage door, Christopher felt like his legs were leaden. His body rebelled at the interruption of rest and he hit the ground with a groan.

  “Are you sure you want me to leave you here? Looks like rain,” the driver told him. Christopher nodded, suppressing a yawn, and took the single suitcase the man handed down.

  “I can wait for you, if you like?” the man added.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Christopher settled the price of the ride and waited until the cab pulled off down the street before turning to face his family’s home.

  But it wasn’t there.

  He stared in shock at the charred frame. Brick chimneys rose out of the remains like strange sentinels guarding what had been left behind. Christopher dropped the suitcase. A fire had destroyed not only his family’s home but the homes on either side. Family tragedy, indeed. This was a complete catastrophe.

  He twisted around to see if the Maynard house was still standing. It was. He started for the door, then remembered his case and went back to retrieve it. Christopher couldn’t keep his gaze from the blackened debris. How had the fire started? Was anyone hurt? Were they all dead? He felt sickened as the breeze blew the undeniable scent of destruction his way.

  “Dr. Kelleher! I thought that was you,” Mrs. Maynard called from her now-open front door.

  Christopher forced himself to turn and face the thick-waisted woman. “What happened? Where is my family?”

  Stuart Albright was sulking. At least that’s what Jael called it. He was clearly miffed about something. Probably the fact that G. W. Vandermark didn’t roll over and play dead at his threats. She smiled and gave a slight shrug. Her father had tried to warn Stuart. He told him some men would not be motivated by intimidation, and clearly he had met his match.

  “Have you decided when we are going back to Houston?” she asked with only a brief glance up from her needlework.

  “No.”

  He didn’t offer another word, and Jael allowed the silence to continue for a good ten minutes before pressing another question. “Have you decided to rebuild the mill?”

  “No.”

  She frowned and fixed him with a look. “So you won’t rebuild?”

  He glowered. “It’s none of your concern. Stick to your sewing.” Clearly agitated, he got to his feet and retrieved his newspaper. “I’ll be in my office.”

  Stalking from the room, Stuart left Jael to wonder if this was the way her future would always be. She hadn’t married for love, she reminded herself. Love wasn’t real—not for her anyway. The man she’d given her heart to so long ago had also giv
en her that realization, just before he deserted her and left her to carry, and later lose, his unborn child. Promises made in the heat of passion were seldom trustworthy, she supposed.

  The needle pierced her finger, causing Jael to jump. She hurried to suck the droplet of blood to keep it from staining her work. Putting the hoop and threads aside, Jael got to her feet, still nursing her finger. She walked to the window and pulled back the heavy drapery to stare out into the night.

  With so many people having left the town, there were very few lighted houses. She wondered why Stuart had allowed this abandonment of Perkinsville. He would stand to lose a great deal of money, and that was truly the only thing he cared about. This thought gave her resolve to seek him out once again. She wasn’t afraid of his pouting and belligerence. In fact, she wasn’t afraid of much anymore. Living without love had been her worst fear, and since that had been realized, nothing else seemed all that important.

  She entered his office without knocking. Her gaze immediately went to the awful painting he’d demanded she pose for. He’d picked out the most scandalous dress, not caring at all that it made her feel immodest and uncomfortable. The memory only served to bolster her resolve. Jael fixed him with a silent stare.

  “What do you want now?”

  “I want answers, Stuart. I want to know why you insist on tormenting the Vandermarks and the people of Perkinsville—at least those few who are still around to be tormented.”

  “As I’ve said before, my business is my business. Stay out of it and you’ll be much happier.”

  “I didn’t marry you expecting to be happy.” The words dripped sarcasm. She crossed the room and put her hands on his highly polished desk. She knew the action would irritate him, but she didn’t care.

  “If you are so lovesick for Elizabeth Decker Vandermark, why do you even bother to keep up the pretense of devoted husband?”

  He smiled. “Because you are so charming, of course.”

  Jael straightened. “Stuart, we both know what a farce our marriage is. I didn’t ask you to pretend to love me or even care for me. It’s just as you told me when we agreed to this arrangement—this marriage was for the sake of convenience and nothing more. Oh, I’ll admit I fooled myself into believing that love might grow, but now I see it cannot, for the soil is poisoned.”