Hope Rekindled

by Tracie Peterson

  Mother nodded. “I can visit with Rachel until you’re ready to head back. Just come to the Perkinses’ house when you’re ready.”

  Deborah nodded and hurried out of the commissary, nearly colliding with the constable. She straightened just in time. “Mr. Nichols, good morning.”

  “Miss Vandermark,” he said, tipping his hat. “It looks to be a mighty fine day.”

  “It would be finer if you would tell me you’d caught the men who beat up and hanged George and David Jackson. Have you any leads? Has anyone stepped forward, seeking the reward my mother and uncle—I mean stepfather—have offered?”

  He frowned and looked quite sorry he’d even addressed her. “Miss Deborah, it’s been over a year. Nobody’s gonna say nothing about what happened. They’re too afraid. The White Hand of God has folks runnin’ scared. There were some lynchings up north not but a week back and some twenty folks witnessed the scene, but no one is talking.”

  “That’s ridiculous. How can an entire community allow a mob of masked men to cause such disruption?” She fixed him with a hard stare. “It seems to me you aren’t doing your job.”

  He took umbrage and struck a defensive pose. “Now, see here. I’m doing my best. What with the mill burned out and all, my guess is that anyone who saw what happened or heard tell of it is long gone. We simply gotta accept that this is one of those things that can’t be resolved.”

  Deborah stiffened. “I refuse to accept that nothing can be done about murder.”

  “She makes a good point, Ralph.”

  Looking around the constable, Deborah could see Pastor Shattuck sitting at a barrel where an unfinished game of checkers awaited. She smiled sweetly. “Mornin’, Pastor. I wonder, is Mara at home?”

  “She sure is. I know she’d love to visit with you. Ralph and I are trying to solve the problems of the world over a game of checkers. I’m afraid you caught us right in the middle.”

  “Pardon me,” Deborah said, glancing back at Ralph. “I can see more important things await you.”

  She hurried down the steps, narrowly missing one of the constable’s hound dogs. Anger and irritation followed her all the way to the pastor’s house, and while she wanted nothing more than to explode over the matter, Deborah held her tongue.

  When Mara opened the door, she offered a smile and a warm greeting. Deborah gave Mara a brief hug. “I wonder if I might speak with you. I have a bit of a problem.”

  “Did she say when he plans to start rebuilding?” G.W. asked Deborah.

  She shook her head. “No. Jael told me before she headed back to her house that she thought he was already arranging supplies and laborers.”

  “Well, that is good news,” Mother said, crossing the room to where Uncle Arjan stood. They had been married less than a year, and their happiness and contentment in each other’s company was evident.

  “I’m going to go back to work in the kitchen. Give a holler if you need me, but Sissy has lunch nearly ready for us, so don’t be long.” She gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek and exited the room.

  Deborah breathed a sigh of relief. “There’s something more. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mother, but I feel I should tell you both.”

  G.W. frowned and rose from behind the desk. “What now? Albright go and threaten to tear out the train tracks?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not that I know of, but Jael asked him for a divorce and he told her no. He was quite angry and added that if she tried to leave him or get a divorce, well . . . he would . . .” She hesitated and looked at her uncle, now stepfather. She had planned all along to let them know of Stuart’s threat, but now it didn’t seem like such a good idea. What would he say if he knew the truth? Would he and G.W. forbid her to leave the house? Would G.W. go challenge Stuart to a fight? She didn’t want to lie, but neither did she want to be the reason that even more harm was done to her family.

  “He would what?” her brother prompted.

  Deborah didn’t know what to say. She wanted someone to know the truth besides Jael, but what good would it do? It was only a threat, and nothing could really be done.

  “What was it he said he’d do?” Arjan asked.

  Deborah swallowed hard, her decision made. “He said he would make us pay.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

  G.W. shook his head. “Like he’s not already doing that. I tell you, if Jael wants to leave the . . . the . . .” He blew out a heavy breath and held his tongue.

  “I think what your brother is trying to say is that Jael would be welcome here if she needed help in getting away from Albright. We aren’t afraid of him. What else could he possibly do to cause us harm?”

  Deborah nodded and offered them a weak smile. “Indeed. What could he do?”

  But Deborah knew Stuart Albright was a powerful man. He could do a great deal to cause them trouble. If he was willing to threaten her life—he would no doubt find it a simple matter to harm the others. And what if he decided to hurt the twins? She could never bear that.

  What should I do? If only Christopher were there, she could confide in him. A thought nagged her. Knowledge was power, she’d always been told. Her family deserved to know the dangers that could be possible. They deserved to know the truth. Guilt coursed through her. Guilt for her part in developing the contract and not having the foresight to avoid such issues. Guilt for the harm that might come to her family. Guilt for not telling the truth.

  The truth will set you free, a voice seemed to speak in the depths of her heart, but Deborah turned a deaf ear. The truth, in this case, seemed much too dangerous.

  Christopher had delayed as long as he could before seeking out Jimmy and Tommy. He figured that waiting until Sunday after church should have given them ample time to consider the situation and let the news of the move sink in.

  “We need to talk,” he told them as soon as the noon meal was completed.

  “I hope you can spare Darcy, Emma, and Jonah,” Mrs. Maynard stated. “I need them to help clear the table and wash up the dishes.”

  She had promised this excuse to allow Christopher to speak with Jimmy and Tommy alone. Christopher nodded and smiled. “Thank you for a wonderful meal. I’ll sit with the boys in the front room.”

  He motioned them toward the archway that led into the hall. Tommy and Jimmy looked at each other for a moment, then got slowly to their feet. They seemed to realize that the discussion was inevitable.

  Christopher waited until they were both seated before continuing. He lowered his voice. “We have to talk about Texas.”

  “I don’t wanna go,” Jimmy declared. “I have the highest marks in school and my teacher says I can graduate by next year—maybe sooner.”

  “And I have a job. I can’t leave.” Tommy looked at Christopher. “It’s important I stay here.”

  He didn’t want to remind them of their age and helplessness and chose another tactic. “What about the little ones? What about Darcy? Have you considered their needs? Would you have me split up the family and take them south while you—the only brothers they truly know—stay here?”

  The boys looked at each other, apparently not having considered this possibility. Christopher shook his head. “I know you don’t want to leave, but I need your help. I’m willing to make you both a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?” Jimmy asked.

  “I want you to continue your education. I will see to it that you further your studies. I only ask that you give Texas—and me—a chance. Come with me and stay for a year. If you graduate and are ready for college, I will find a way to send you. And Tommy, I’m certain that my fiancée’s family could help you find a job—maybe something to do with their logging company.”

  “Truly?” Tommy asked. “That would be great.” He immediately regretted the outburst and gave Jimmy an apologetic look.

  “Nothing has to be forever. I’m just asking that you come and help the little ones to adjust. You two can’t take care of them. They need far more than you can provide.
The girls need a woman’s guidance, and Jonah needs mothering, even if you two don’t. Please . . . help me out in this.” He paused as he searched for what to say next.

  “Even though I was gone most of the time you were growing up, you were never far from my thoughts. All of you were with me no matter where I went; I held you in my heart and mind. I prayed for you and did . . . well, whatever else I could.” He fell silent, not wanting to boast of how he’d cared for them over the years. “You’ve always been important to me.”

  Jimmy looked to the ground as if ashamed. “I know. Mama told me how much you did for us.”

  “I believe God made us a family in order to help each other in times like this.” Christopher placed a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “You will grow up soon enough. You’ll move off and marry and have your own little ones. But right now you owe it to them, as well as yourself, to take a little time to grow up.”

  Tommy frowned. “We’re not babies.”

  “I never said you were,” Christopher replied. “But I promised our mother that I would always be there for you, should anything ever happen to her. I promised her that you would finish school if I had anything to say about it.”

  The brothers exchanged a glance and then looked back to Christopher. Jimmy was the one to speak. “And if we don’t want to stay after a year, you’ll help us get somewhere else?”

  Christopher breathed a sigh. “I will. You might even be able to go live with one of our sisters and their families, but I know money has always been difficult for them to come by, as well. I’m not even all that sure where to find them these days. Perhaps you know?”

  “They haven’t moved,” Jimmy said. He looked to Tommy and gave a brief nod. “But I don’t think we’d be any better off with them. I guess we can go with you. If that’s the only way.”

  “For now it is,” Christopher said. “That doesn’t mean God won’t provide another at a different time.”

  “God?” Jimmy asked and shook his head. “I got no interest in Him. He’s obviously not interested in us.”

  Christopher shook his head. “You know that’s not true. God has always been there for this family.”

  Jimmy got to his feet. “Well, He sure has a funny way of showin’ it.”

  I can’t say I’ve ever heard of such an arrangement,” Bertram Wallace said, “but your family and ours go way back. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  Wallace’s family had once worked for the Vandermarks before heading out to start their own logging and sawmill company. G.W. knew they had long since cut out their acreage of forest, however, and now only managed the mill.

  “We want to keep this fair, but not let anyone else know what’s going on,” G.W. explained. “Mr. Decker, my father-in-law, assures me that if we give you the logs you need and no money changes hands, we’ll be legal.”

  Decker leaned forward. “It’s true. The exchange of gifts should not create a problem of legal means; however, it would be better not to throw it in the face of Stuart Albright and his business associates. Their delay in deciding to rebuild the mill or move elsewhere has caused difficulty, but it is their right.”

  Wallace nodded. “I don’t have a problem with the plan.” The older man looked at Arjan. “We had plenty of secrets in the good ol’ days, didn’t we?” He gave them a broad smile. “Sounds like this Albright fella wants to see you folks on your face in the dirt. I can’t abide that.”

  G.W. had known Mr. Wallace would feel that way. It was the reason he’d put the man at the top of their list to visit. “We thought,” G.W. continued, “that we’d talk to Mr. Kealty and maybe Mr. Danview, too.”

  Wallace considered this for a moment. “There’s talk that Kealty is selling, but he might be interested in hearin’ what you have to say. He’s a good man.”

  “I’d like to involve as few people as possible,” Arjan added. “We just need enough to keep the mortgage paid and food on the table. We can live and have lived frugal. We know what’s necessary.”

  “We all have had a taste of that. Don’t want to go back to it, neither,” Wallace replied. He held out his hand. “Let’s shake on the deal. You write out the information for how you want things done, and I’ll figure up what I can do for you from my end.”

  Later that day, as the trio sat down for dinner in one of Lufkin’s nicer cafés, G.W. shook his head and smiled. “I’m thinkin’ this is gonna work out all right.”

  “You’ve got a fine family reputation and folks seem to share a good history with you,” his father-in-law replied. “I like the way people pull together out here.”

  “You can always join us out here,” G.W. said with a grin. “I know one little gal who would find that prospect awfully rewarding.”

  Decker laughed. “I’m sure she would. I was a little worried about her after unloading the news of her being a twin, but she seemed to bear it well.”

  G.W. picked up a spoon, intent on the bowl of chicken and dumplings the waitress had just brought. “We spoke for quite a while, and Lizzie said that learning about her twin explained so much. She always felt that there was something or someone missing in her life. She had thought it was just because of the way her ma treated her, but now Lizzie says she can finally understand why she’s always felt that way.”

  Brian Decker shook his head slowly. “To think that I could have helped her long ago. I honestly figured Harriet would tell her; I mean, there was certainly no reason to keep it from Lizzie. I suppose the pain of remembering what had happened was something Harriet couldn’t face.”

  “Lizzie plans to write to her ma and ask for an explanation. I don’t reckon she’ll reply if it’s too much of a burden to bear,” G.W. said and sampled more of his food. “This is mighty good.”

  Spying a familiar face across the room, G.W. waited until the man was nearly even with their table before addressing him. “Bart Perkins. I heard your father mention you were up this way.”

  Bart looked at the trio in surprise. “Well, I do say, this is a surprise. What brings you to Lufkin?”

  “That sorry excuse for a train we have,” G.W. said, laughing. “What about you? Your father said you were gettin’ involved in politics, of all things.”

  Bart hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets and rocked back on his heels. “That I am. I plan to be mayor of this town one day. The times have changed, and with it, we have many problems that need attending.”

  G.W. glanced around. “Seems like Lufkin is a well-managed town.”

  Bart leaned forward. “So long as we can keep the Negroes in their place. They are causing us all kinds of grief. I don’t know why that pig Lincoln ever figured freeing them was a good thing. They’re shiftless and lazy, uneducated and thieves—every last one of them.”

  G.W. frowned. He wasn’t used to hearing friends speak so harshly about the blacks. “I’m sorry to hear you’re having problems.”

  “Oh, there were problems in Perkinsville, too, but Father never wanted to deal with it in an appropriate manner. I reminded him on more than one occasion that he was letting the colored folks get away with too much. They weren’t working anywhere near to capacity, but my father never wanted to interfere. That’s as much why we’re out of business today as anything.”

  “Well, the fire certainly put an end to production,” Arjan said.

  “It was set by the blacks.”

  “Do you have any proof?” G.W. asked.

  “Well, I’m sure you know my father is certain the fire was set. No one but the blacks had any reason to set it afire.”

  G.W. leaned back to fix Bart with a hard look. “How do you figure that? Most of them worked at the mill.”

  Bart nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. And everyone knows those people don’t want to give an honest day’s work.”

  “That crazy,” G.W. said. “We have both blacks and whites working for us. They are all hard workers who give a good effort. George and David Jackson were two of the best workers we’d ever had before the White Hand
of God killed them.”

  Bart shrugged. “They must have done something to offend. That’s the trouble with colored folks—they just don’t know enough to stay in their place and keep their mouths shut. We see it here, too, and they probably thought that if the mill was out of commission, they could laze about.”

  G.W. tensed and Arjan put his hand on G.W.’s knee.

  Arjan looked to Bart. “We just got our food. Why don’t you sit down and eat with us.”

  Bart shook his head but didn’t lose the pose. “I’ve already eaten; besides, I have a business meeting to attend to. How long will you gentlemen be in town?”

  Arjan answered for them. “I don’t think it’ll be much longer. We got what we came for.”

  “Which was what?” Bart asked.

  G.W. slammed his empty mug down a little harder than he’d intended. “Horses. We came to pick up the team that we lent out last winter.”

  Arjan smiled and nodded. “Jefferson Marshall used them for freighting. He was waiting on a new team to be delivered from El Paso. Now they’ve arrived.”

  “I saw them,” Bart said, looking glad to change the subject. “Nice looking pair.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “Well, I must be going. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again later.”

  G.W. watched as Perkins hurried from the café. “I wasn’t exactly expecting his attitude.”

  Arjan looked to Brian Decker. “He’s the son of Zed Perkins. We should have made introductions. I apologize.”

  “No need. The man sounds like he’s the one who should apologize.”

  G.W. reconsidered the conversation. “You don’t suppose he had anything to do with the lynchings in Perkinsville, do you?”

  “I seriously doubt it, Son. Bart has always been good to go off at the mouth, but his follow-through leaves a lot to be desired. My guess is he’s repeating somebody else’s thoughts.”

  “Well, whoever they are, they’re wrong,” G.W. said with a glance at his father-in-law.