“Then you should call me Deborah.”
This answer seemed to appease Darcy. “I like that name. You can call me Darcy.”
Deborah wasn’t at all sure what had just happened. She followed Darcy into the house and motioned her toward the dining room. There they found her siblings already seated and waiting to be fed.
Hurrying past Christopher, Deborah went into the main kitchen to help her mother. There was very little left over from breakfast, but that was easy enough to rectify. Her mother was already slicing ham.
“Would you start frying the eggs? I’m going to get this ham on, then fetch Sissy to bring in some of the corn bread she’s been baking this morning.” Mother took up the largest of their cast-iron skillets and filled it with the meat. Setting it atop the stove, she checked the fire.
“I’ll be back momentarily, but watch so that it doesn’t burn.” She was gone before Deborah could even comment.
Going to the basket, Deborah made quick order of things. She began breaking eggs and had them on the stove within minutes. Stirring in a little cream, Deborah tried not to let her emotions overwhelm her as she beat the eggs into a frothy mixture. She didn’t know what to think or how to feel about this turn of events.
“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Christopher commented from the door.
She looked up. “I’m so sorry about your parents, Christopher.” She knew he held a deep love for them—especially his mother. “I wish I could say something that would ease your pain.”
He nodded. “Thank you. The children didn’t have anyone else—no place to go. Mrs. Maynard had taken them in after the fire, but she couldn’t afford to keep them.”
Deborah stopped stirring. She put the spoon aside and slowly walked to where he stood. “They are your family. You had to see to their needs.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I missed you so much.” He buried his face in her hair.
Holding on to him tightly, Deborah couldn’t help but wonder how their lives were about to change. Darcy’s question came to mind and weighed down on her like a load of logs. Had she just inherited a family? Did Christopher expect her to mother his siblings?
She hated herself for feeling distress. How could she begrudge little children the comfort of their older brother after losing their parents? She drew a deep breath.
Lord, I’m going to need help with this. I don’t know what you want me to do, but whatever it is, I know I’m going to need strength.
She raised her head and looked into Christopher’s face. Seeing a glimmer of tears in his eyes, she knew it would be wrong to question the matter.
Leaning on tiptoe, she placed a gentle kiss on his lips instead. “Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
Deborah touched his cheek. “Then find a seat at the table, and we’ll have the meal on in just a few minutes.” She stepped away from him and hurried back to the stove as her mother came back to the kitchen with Sissy in tow.
“Welcome back, Doc,” Sissy said.
“Thank you,” he said, but his gaze never left Deborah.
She could see the unspoken questions in his eyes. There was no time to do anything other than offer him a weak smile before she turned her attention back to the food. He wanted to know that she was all right with the news. That she accepted his new responsibility. That nothing had changed between them. But in truth, everything had changed, whether she liked it or not.
With Lizzie and Sissy busy helping Mother, Deborah decided to pull Christopher away from the table as soon as he’d emptied his plate. She needed to know how he was doing—what had happened, and what she should expect to come next.
“Could we talk for a moment? Alone?” she whispered in his ear.
Christopher nodded. “I want you all to mind your manners while I talk with Miss Deborah.” He got to his feet and looked to Euphanel, who was cutting up pieces of ham for Jonah. “If that’s alright with you, Mrs. Vandermark . . . Euphanel.”
She smiled at him. “Go on. We’re just fine here.”
The other children were still busy stuffing food into their mouths. Deborah thought they ate like they hadn’t had a decent meal in months. From the look of how thin they were, they probably hadn’t. She frowned at the thought of them being hungry.
“I hope that look isn’t for me,” Christopher said as they made their way outside.
“No, of course not. I was just thinking of how bad it must have been for your brothers and sisters . . . for you.” She stopped on the porch and wrapped her arms around Christopher’s neck. “I prayed so much for you, and now I see why. Perhaps it was God’s prompting that kept me on my knees.”
Christopher touched her cheek. “I never expected this to happen.”
“Of course not. Who would ever imagine such a tragedy was possible? Can you tell me what happened?”
“The chimney flue got too hot and set the house ablaze. Mother got the children out, but she went back to help my father. They were trapped and burned to death.”
Deborah shook her head and closed her eyes. She couldn’t imagine a more horrible way to die. “And . . . were the children . . . hurt?” she forced herself to ask.
“No. They breathed in plenty of smoke but were otherwise fine. Mrs. Maynard lives just across the street, and she graciously took the children in.”
“Thank God for Mrs. Maynard. I hate to think what might have happened if she’d not been there.”
“I know. Jimmy and Tommy would probably manage all right, but the younger ones certainly would have been taken to an orphanage. I might never have found them.”
Deborah hugged him close. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry, Deborah. I never intended to impose a family on you like this.” He pushed away from her and walked to the end of the porch.
“I spent every cent I had. Paying for the funeral expenses, reimbursing Mrs. Maynard, purchasing train tickets, and feeding them on the way down. Oh, and I rented that miserable excuse for a wagon and team,” he said, pointing to where the horses still stood.
“I have some money,” Deborah declared. “It’s yours. I’ve saved it ever since coming back home and working for our business.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“It’s ours,” she insisted.
“No. You earned it and put it aside for your own purposes.”
Deborah put her hands on his shoulders. “And now that purpose is to help you.”
He shook his head. “Look, there are some folks around here that owe me money. Let me see first if I can collect. If not, then we’ll discuss your idea.”
“What about our wedding?” she asked, almost afraid to hear his reply.
He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I have to figure out how to arrange for my siblings first.”
“I thought I might find you two out here,” Mother said, coming from the house. She crossed the distance in a casual manner and smiled. “Solving the problems of the world?”
“Just my little corner of it,” Christopher replied.
“I hope you won’t think me interfering.” She took a seat and motioned for them to do likewise. Deborah felt relieved at her mother’s presence—her own thoughts were skewed with all sorts of ideas.
“Christopher,” her mother began, “it’s obvious that you need help with your family. We are more than willing to offer you that assistance. We have enough room for everyone—food, too. I’m sure Arjan wouldn’t mind if you wanted your family to stay with us for a time.”
“I’m ashamed to admit that I’d hoped as much. I’ve very little money—”
“Hush. We won’t speak of such a thing. You’re family, Christopher—or very nearly.” She smiled. “Family takes care of one another—just as you have taken care of those children.”
“I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t stay there; neither could I just leave them.”
“Of course you couldn’t.”
“They have nothi
ng,” he added. “They got out of the fire with little more than their nightclothes. Mrs. Maynard said some of the neighbors offered up the articles you see them wearing now. But that’s all they have.”
“Well, don’t you fret, Christopher. We have plenty of things around here we can use.”
“I don’t know how I could ever pay you. I just told Deborah that I need to go around and see what I can collect on debts owed me.”
“You needn’t worry,” Mother reassured him. “Times are hard for everyone, but God has a way of working it all out. He multiplied the loaves and fishes in the Bible, and He will multiple the food and clothes here today.”
“What’s going on?” Jimmy asked as he stepped onto the porch. Tommy followed and let the screen door bang against the frame.
“We were just discussing how to keep you strapping lads fed and clothed,” Euphanel said. “Why don’t you come over here and tell us what you think of our plan.”
Jimmy looked apprehensive. “What plan?”
“I have just suggested to Christopher that you could all stay here. There are lots of chores to be done and we could use the help. I have plenty of rooms in the house, and while we are a bit of a distance from town, there’s no reason we can’t arrange for you all to go back to school and finish up the term.”
“I don’t wanna live with strangers,” Jimmy said, then looked to Deborah’s mother. “No offense, ma’am.”
“None taken,” she assured him. “And we aren’t really strangers anymore—are we? I figure it might feel awkward for you two, being the oldest, but the younger ones need to feel safe and protected. The best way I know to do that is by keeping their bellies full and their hands busy. That way they’ll be too tired at night to worry overmuch about the past.”
Jimmy seemed to think about this for several minutes. Tommy, too, seemed thoughtful on the matter, and Deborah couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. How trapped they must feel just now.
“I need a job,” Tommy finally declared. “I had one in Kansas City.”
“We both need work so we can earn our keep and help support the others,” Jimmy confirmed.
“Well, we can probably put you to work for Vandermark Logging. I can’t promise, of course, but my husband and son will be back soon, and we can certainly ask them then. There’s always something to do in the logging camps, and I believe it would make a good trade. However, there’s also school to consider. I wouldn’t want either of you forsaking your education. You can always help out after school and on Saturday.”
“Sunday, too,” Tommy offered.
Mother shook her head. “No, Sunday is the Lord’s Day and we rest. We refrain from working in order to honor Him for all that He’s done for us.”
Tommy and Jimmy exchanged a look. “Nobody works on Sunday?”
“Well, of course, some people do not honor the Lord that way,” Mother replied. “And if there’s an emergency, we do not hesitate to work. Even Jesus said it was good to help each other, even if it was on the Sabbath.”
Deborah could see that Jimmy and Tommy were mulling over the idea. She leaned forward. “Mother, Christopher and I aren’t exactly sure when we’ll go ahead with the ceremony, but couldn’t he stay here, too?”
Mother looked to the doctor and nodded. “I would encourage it, since the children are used to you. It might ease their fears.”
“I . . . don’t . . . I don’t think I should,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Deborah. “I would still need to keep up my practice. Let me think on it.”
Mother nodded and got to her feet. “I’ll go see if Sissy and Lizzie need help.”
“I’ll come, too,” Deborah told her mother. She had a feeling Christopher needed some time to talk to his brothers.
They made their way into the house, and Deborah reached out to touch her mother’s arm. “Thank you for all you’re doing to help him. He’s so torn up by what happened, and caring for his siblings is a tremendous worry to him.”
Mother nodded. “It’s a huge responsibility, Deborah. You must also consider what it means. Perhaps you’ll even desire to postpone the wedding.”
Deborah squeezed her mother’s hand to halt her steps. “Why do you say that?”
“Five children to oversee changes everything,” her mother said. “There’s no shame in admitting that. Five children who are grieving the loss of their parents will be even more difficult. Grief makes folks act strange. They say and do things they don’t mean because their pain is so great. You will have to have an extra measure of grace for each child.”
“I am afraid,” Deborah admitted. “I don’t know if I can help them navigate their grief. I might be more trouble than help. They may see me as a threat—someone who is taking away their brother.”
“They might. However, we must simply put this in God’s hands, Deborah. We must trust Him to show us what we need to do and how we can best help Christopher and his siblings.”
Deborah longed to say so much more. She wanted to tell her mother her true fears—feelings of how she wasn’t at all certain she wanted children in her marriage. Of course, there was no possibility of avoiding that now once they were married. Perhaps they shouldn’t marry if she was this confused.
“Mrs. Vandermark,” Darcy called from the entryway to the dining room. “Emma’s cryin’ and she won’t stop.”
Mother looked at Deborah and smiled. “God will give you the answers you need, darling. Don’t fret. He wasn’t taken by surprise, and He has a plan.”
Deborah watched her mother go and frowned. “I wish He’d tell me what it was.”
“Wish who’d tell you what?” Darcy asked.
Deborah felt like a child caught sneaking something to eat. She thought for a moment to lie, but immediately put that idea aside. Darcy was a smart one. In many ways, the girl reminded Deborah of herself.
“I wish God would tell me what to do—how to help you and the others.” She held Darcy’s gaze. “I feel quite sad that you have lost your parents. It must hurt a great deal. My father died several years ago, and I still miss him.”
Darcy nodded. “I don’t miss my father, but I do wish my mama was here. My da was sick and in bed a lot, so I never spent much time with him.”
“My father was very important to me,” Deborah told the girl. “He taught me so many things.”
“Like what?”
“How to ride a horse. How to cut wood. How to tend animals. Of course, my mother taught me some of those things, as well. But she also taught me how to sew and make clothes. Do you sew?”
“I do. My mother taught me.”
Deborah smiled. “Then we already have something in common.”
Darcy seemed to think of this for a moment, then looked at Deborah expectantly. “Do you think you could teach me to ride a horse?”
“I suppose I could. Of course, your brother will have to agree to it.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Darcy said matter-of-factly. “I think he’ll listen to me.”
“But I don’t want to live here,” Jimmy said. “It’s not our home.”
“Neither is my place in town,” Christopher replied. “The owner may kick me out any day. I believe this is the best answer.” He pushed back his hair and stood. “I know this is hard for you, but I need for you two to help me.”
Jimmy looked at Tommy and nodded. “I know it’s not easy for you, either. I just . . . well, I hate it.”
“I do, too,” Tommy added.
Christopher studied his brothers. They seemed so young to him. Were they really nearly grown? “Come on,” he encouraged. “I’ll show you around.”
The boys ambled along beside him while Christopher told them about the Vandermarks. “They really are the very best people you could ever know. I used to write and tell Ma about them, and she said they were just the kind of folks she’d cherish knowing better.”
“And Mrs. Vanermark did say that we could maybe have jobs,” Tommy added.
Christopher smiled. “As
you can see, there’re plenty of ways to earn your keep here. The garden alone takes many hours of tending.” He waved his hand toward the area where Sissy was working even now. “Then there’s canning and smoking food. Hunting and fishing.”
“Do you suppose we could learn to shoot?” Tommy asked.
Christopher stopped walking and faced his brothers. “There isn’t a single thing you can’t learn if you put your mind to it. The Vandermarks can show you how to shoot, how to log, how to hunt, and do just about anything else you’re of a mind to learn. If you give them a chance and agree to stay here, I promise I’ll work quickly to come up with a more permanent solution. If we need to move to a bigger city like Houston or Galveston, I will need some time to make arrangements.”
Jimmy kicked at a rock in the path. “They won’t laugh at us ’cause we’re from the city, will they?”
“I’ve never known them to be unkind to anyone, Jimmy. They are good God-fearing folks who practice what they hear each Sunday. I know you’re feeling a bit angry with God right now, but I believe He has given us this opportunity for the safety and well-being of everyone concerned. I’m just asking you to give it a chance.”
Jimmy and Tommy exchanged a glance. “Guess there isn’t much of any other choice,” Jimmy said. “Just remember, I want to go to college.”
“I also want you to further your education,” Christopher replied. “I won’t forget.”
Stuart Albright looked at the figures his father-in-law had just handed him. “I suppose if we’re to rebuild, we’ll be best to keep the present location.”
“It will cost three times as much—just for start up—if we move the mill elsewhere,” Dwight Longstreet told him. “More than that if we have to run a new siding for the train.”
“I can see that for myself.” He pushed the papers away. They fluttered in the air momentarily and fell onto the massive desk. “So have you arranged for workers?”
“I’ve put out the word. We need men with experience; otherwise, it will take forever to get the mill operational.”
Smiling to himself, Stuart shook his head. “No, I want the blacks working on it. They are taking up space on my land—in company houses. Have them begin the construction work.”
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