by Bonnie Leon
“That be all, then?”
“Yes.” Rebecca wanted to get home. “Do you really think it will come down to a gunfight?”
“Might.” Mr. O’Brien sorted the items in the basket and priced them. “That’s not what a bloke wants, but you do what you must, eh?”
“I suppose.” Rebecca reached into a small change purse and deposited several coins on the counter. “Is that enough?”
Mr. O’Brien counted out the money. “Just right.” He dropped the coins into a money box. “You just missed Cambria. I think she said something about dropping by your place though. Told me she couldn’t wait to see that baby again.”
Rebecca smiled. “She’s wonderful with Audry. One day she’ll make a fine mother.”
“I figured. When do you suppose her and Jim are going to get married?”
“Just as soon as he gets their place set up.” Resting the handle of the basket over her arm, Rebecca said, “Thank you. Good day, now.”
“Have a fine day, eh?”
“I certainly will.”
When the door closed behind her, Rebecca drew in a deep breath, gathered her skirts, and then swiftly moved to the surrey. She’d be glad to be on her way. She needed to talk to Daniel. She couldn’t allow him to do something as foolish as start a conflict between himself and Marshal.
Callie sat on the front seat of the surrey. “Ya look troubled, mum.”
“I am.” Rebecca set the basket on the floor in the back between the seats. “Mr. O’Brien said Daniel and some of the men from the district are planning to take a stand against Mr. Marshal, even if it means a gun battle.”
“Sometimes that’s what’s roight.”
“It can’t be right. Too many men could be hurt. And he dare not anger Mr. Marshal further.”
“I’d say Mr. Marshal’s angry enough. Have ya forgotten Dusty?”
Rebecca let out a long breath. “No. Of course not. And I suppose you’re right. How could Mr. Marshal be more angry than he already is?” She climbed onto the driver’s seat, lifted the reins, and slapped them over the hind end of the horses. Immediately the team trotted into the road. “I just wish there was another way.”
Rebecca suddenly realized how little she trusted Daniel in this, or God for that matter. “We need to be praying more,” she said.
As the idea of God’s sovereign hand being laid over her life penetrated her thoughts, Rebecca quieted inside. He’d always been faithful. Her mind flashed to the day of the fire and how Callie and Joseph had miraculously survived the flames.
“Wal, ya can pray ta yer God, but I don’t see that it’ll make a difference.”
“Oh, Callie,” Rebecca said with exasperation. “If only you could understand what it’s like to have a God who loves you and watches over you.”
Callie pursed her lips and stared at the horses’ rumps. “I don’t know ’bout yer God, but I know ya, and I wanted ta tell ya I’m sorry ’bout what I said the other day.”
“What did you say?”
“Ya know, ’bout yer not invitin’ me ta eat breakfast with ya when ya first come ta Douloo.”
“Why, that was weeks ago. Have you been thinking about it all this time?”
“I been thinkin’, and I meant what I said except that I know ya and Mrs. Thornton and Daniel aren’t like the others.” She looked Rebecca in the eye. “Ya respect me . . . and Woodman. Ya been fair and kind.”
“Thank you.” Rebecca rested a hand on Callie’s. “But you were right. I can be careless.”
Callie nodded assent.
Rebecca turned quiet. She wanted to speak with Callie about God and about her salvation, but she didn’t know just what to say. “I know you’ve read the Bible.”
“And I thank ya for teachin’ me ta read, but—”
“Have you considered Christianity?”
“I know me own way, mum. No reason ta go another.”
“Would you join me at church this Sunday?” Before Callie could refuse, Rebecca hurried on. “I know it’s not something you’ve done and that you may feel a bit out of place, but at least you could experience church. And Rev. Cobb is a fine man who delivers exceptional sermons.”
“I’d never be allowed in a Christian church, mum.”
“I’m sure it would be all right. Please, just try it once. If you do, I promise never to bring it up again.”
Callie gazed ahead, saying nothing. Finally she said, “All roight, then. If ya promise not ta ask me again, I’ll go.”
“Wonderful!” Rebecca exclaimed, barely able to believe she’d managed to convince Callie.
“I won’t be forced inta goin’ back. Ya promise not ta ask.”
“Yes. I promise.”
Callie stood on her tiny front porch and watched as Rebecca stepped onto the veranda. Her insides churned. What ’ave I done? I don’t belong in no church. They’ll not want me. She held her Bible close, pressing it against her chest.
Rebecca hurried down the front steps. She waved at Callie. “Good morning.”
Callie nodded but remained where she was. I’m not goin’. My bein’ there will only stir up a bee’s nest.
Daniel stood in the yard, holding Audry, while Joseph galloped back and forth between the porch steps and the surrey. Willa was already seated in the carriage.
Rebecca approached Callie. “You look very nice.”
Callie glanced down at her pink floral shift and snatched a frayed blue hat off her head. “I don’t ’ave nice clothes, mum.”
“You’re fine. And you’ve got your Bible.”
“This isn’t a good idea. I should stay home, eh?”
“No. Of course you shouldn’t.” Rebecca’s voice was too cheery. She circled an arm about Callie’s waist and steered her toward the surrey. “You can sit with me.”
“If ya don’t mind, mum, I think I’d rather sit up front with Woodman.”
“Of course,” Rebecca said. “Sit wherever you feel most comfortable.”
“Are you ready, then?” Daniel asked.
“Yep,” Joseph said, scrambling in and sitting beside his grandmother.
“We’re ready,” Rebecca said.
Callie stood beside the surrey, wishing there were some way to get out of her promise to Rebecca. She looked up at Woodman. “Don’t think this is a good idea.”
Woodman smiled. “Ya said ya’d go. Now ya goin’ ta back out, eh?”
“I didn’t say that.” Without another word Callie climbed up and sat beside Woodman.
When the Thorntons arrived at church, Callie remained planted on the seat while the family stepped out of the surrey. Her stomach ached. She glanced at the church, her eyes lingering on the steeple that housed a large, polished bell.
“It’s not ringin’, mum,” she said.
“No. They wait until just before ten o’clock, when the service begins.”
“Oh.” Callie remained seated, hands in her lap, back straight.
“Come on, Callie,” Joseph said. He stared up at the servant, his blue eyes wide and innocent.
Taking a deep breath, Callie glanced at Woodman, who offered her a slight smile and a shrug. Finally she climbed down.
Daniel had ridden alongside the surrey. He dismounted and tied his horse to the back of the carriage, then took Audry from Rebecca and gave his wife a hand down. With Audry in one arm, he held his other out to Rebecca, and then the two of them headed toward the church. Willa walked alongside them.
Joseph held out his hand to Callie. “Come on.”
“Roight, then,” Callie said, grasping the youngster’s hand. She looked about, but when she noticed people staring at her, she set her gaze straight ahead.
When they reached the steps at the front of the church, Callie stopped.
“Don’t be scared,” Joseph said. “God’s here. He’s nice.”
Parishioners moved past the Thornton cluster. Many gazed at Callie, and some whispered to one another.
“It will be fine, Callie,” Willa said, taking h
er arm and leading her up the steps.
Rev. Cobb stood at the door. He was unable to hide his surprise but quickly recovered and smiled at Callie. “It’s good that you could join us. Don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in church before.”
“No, sir. Never been.”
Joseph tugged on her hand, and dragged her inside the small sanctuary. Talk ceased, and glances were cast at Callie and the Thorntons.
Callie wished she had the power to disappear.
“Come along, then,” Willa said with a warm smile, resting a hand momentarily on Callie’s arm and moving farther inside the sanctuary.
“We’ll sit right ’ere,” Daniel said, stopping at the first empty pew near the back of the church.
The bell let out a loud peal, and Callie flinched. It rang again and again. It was too late to leave now.
Parishioners stared and then tried not to. Mothers hushed their children’s questions, and then finally, thankfully, the minister stepped to the podium.
“G’day to you all. Welcome.” His warm eyes rested momentarily on Callie before traveling over the congregation.
The first chords of the organ played, and everyone stood. Staring at the back of the person in front of her, Callie stood along with the others. Voices merged hesitantly at first and then more vigorously as the song progressed.
Callie wanted to leave and even glanced at the back of the church to measure how many steps it would take to reach the door. Freedom called.
When the song ended, the people sat and Rev. Cobb returned to the podium. “This morning I have something quite significant I need to address, a topic God spent a good deal of time on—our mistaken beliefs about good works.” He paused, allowing the congregation a chance to grasp the topic. “If not for his mercy and forgiveness, we would never know heaven.
“While it’s true that, to achieve heaven, all that’s required of us is to believe in Christ as Savior, the Lord asks more and offers more. Good works are not required if we’re to be accepted into his family; however, his desire is that we live a life filled with good works. A bit confusing, eh?” He smiled.
Callie tried to listen to the reverend and to comprehend what he was saying, but her mind was more focused on her surroundings and the fact that every person in the room seemed aware of her presence. Callie strained to understand.
“Now, then, let us go to the Word. In Ephesians chapter two, verses eight and nine, it states clearly that salvation is a gift, freely given.” The reverend waited a few moments while parishioners turned to the book of Ephesians.
Callie didn’t know where it was located and kept her Bible closed on her lap.
“Now, then, it says, ‘For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.’”
The reverend smiled. “There is nothing we can do to earn a place in heaven. It is God’s gift to us, a gift of salvation to all mankind. Salvation is not something we can produce by our works, but rather by our faith.”
Had the reverend said that the place called heaven was for anyone who believed in Christ—even blacks?
He leaned on the podium. “Don’t misunderstand; God wants us to do good works, but it is not the work we do that saves us. However, we should never forget that good deeds please God. Read the next verse with me.”
Cambria sat three rows up. She looked over her shoulder and caught Callie’s eye, offering a reassuring smile. Callie felt slightly better as she glanced at the closed Bible lying in her lap.
Pulling himself to his full height, the reverend continued. “So what is God talking about when he speaks of good works?” He glanced down at the Scriptures in front of him. “There are many things we can do that please God. We can give to the poor. We can love the unlovable as Christ did with the lepers. We can help our neighbor.” He said the last sentence with emphasis. “But we need to be judicious in how we help one another.” He glanced at Daniel. “May we never sin in the effort.”
Callie knew he was talking about Daniel’s plan to challenge Marshal. Was it a sin to protect yourself and your family? I’ll ’ave ta ask Rebecca ’bout that.
The reverend continued talking about other ways to do good works, but Callie was too nervous to hear much of what he said. She was thankful when he finally stepped down from the podium. After the closing hymn, parishioners stood and filed out of the church. Callie started down the aisle toward freedom.
“G’day,” Cambria said, striding up to her. She clasped Callie’s hands. “I’m so thrilled ya came this morning. I hope ya’ll come back.”
“Maybe,” Callie said in a hushed tone while she continued toward the door.
Cambria fell into step beside Rebecca, who seemed to be making every effort to keep up with Callie. “Maybe we can have a cuppa this week, eh? Or go for a ride?”
“That would be lovely.”
Callie was nearly running by the time she reached the bottom step in front of the church. She headed straight for the surrey.
Rebecca followed. “Callie? Callie. Please wait.”
Callie didn’t stop until she reached the carriage. “Yais, mum?”
“You were in such a hurry,” Rebecca said, “I couldn’t keep up.”
“I come ’ere just as I said, mum. But I don’t belong.”
“Did someone say something to you?”
“No. No one has ta say nothin’.”
“Be patient. People need time to adjust, including you.”
“They won’t. I won’t.” Callie pursed her lips and folded her arms over her chest, tucking her Bible under one arm.
Rebecca looked at the parishioners filing out of the church and at the reverend greeting each one. “Rev. Cobb is a fine man.” She turned a smile on Callie. “What did you think of the sermon?”
Callie thought a moment. “It was good. But it seems ta me, Christians only talk ’bout what they believe; they don’t do what they believe.”
“That’s not true, not exactly. We try. Christians aren’t perfect. I never said we were. We make mistakes, do dreadful things, even cruel things sometimes. Everyone does. But most of the time we love and take care of each other.”
“I guess that’s true enough.” Callie climbed onto the surrey seat. “Koora wouldn’t like it if he knew I went ta church.” She glanced at the families gathering for lunch. “Don’t tell him, mum.”
“You like him a lot, don’t you?”
“Yais. I do.”
“He’s fond of you too.”
“Ya think, eh?”
“Yes. I can see it in his eyes.”
Callie smiled. “I did like church, mum. But I won’t be comin’ back.”
Dusk fell over the plains, and the Thornton house settled into quiet rest. Glad to have the day done, Rebecca sat in an overstuffed chair with her legs tucked up under her and a comforter across her lap. She turned a page of her book, A Tale of Two Cities. She’d read Dickens’s historical novel before, but she never tired of the drama nor the battle between good and evil. The characters were vivid and real, their struggle genuine.
Hearing the pop of a floorboard, she looked up. Callie stood just inside the doorway. “Why, hello, Callie. Is everything all right?” When Callie didn’t reply, Rebecca asked, “Can I do something for you?”
Still the aborigine said nothing. She studied Rebecca, then tentatively asked, “I was wonderin’ if ya’d like ta see somethin’ special.”
Intrigued, Rebecca let the book rest in her lap. “What is it you want to show me?”
Callie glanced about as if afraid someone might overhear. “Can’t say roight yet. But would ya come with me?”
Her interest growing, Rebecca closed her book and set it on the table beside her. “What is it?”
“Somethin’ good . . . ’bout me people.”
Rebecca pushed to her feet. “All right, then.” She folded the comforter in half and laid it over the back of the chair. “I’ll tell Willa. She’s helping Lily in the ki
tchen.”
“No need ta say nothin’, mum.” Callie glanced at the stairway. “And Mr. Thornton, mum, where is he?”
“He was exhausted and went to bed.”
“The bybies?”
“They’ve gone to bed as well.” Rebecca studied Callie. “Is something wrong? You’re acting strangely. What is it you want to show me?”
“Ya’ll see.” Callie smiled as if she was enjoying her secret. “Come on, then.” Silently she moved toward the front door.
Rebecca followed, holding her breath and doing her best to move quietly like Callie.
The sky held on to the last trace of fading light as they moved away from the house. Callie walked rapidly, leading Rebecca out onto the flats. Darkness draped itself over the land and swallowed up the two women as they left the lights of the house behind them.
Rebecca stumbled and nearly fell over a clump of grass. “Slow down,” she called in a loud whisper. She stood still and sought out Callie in the darkness. She couldn’t see her. Pulling her sweater close, she called, “Callie. Where are you?”
“Roight ’ere,” Callie said with a chuckle. It didn’t sound like she was more than a few feet away.
“I can’t see a thing,” Rebecca said. “I don’t know that this is a good idea.”
“It’s all roight. The moon will be up soon, eh?”
Feeling uneasy, Rebecca asked, “Where are we going? What are we doing out here?”
“Ya’ll see.”
Rebecca threw back her shoulders. She’d have to put a stop to this silliness. “I won’t go a step farther until you tell me where we’re going.”
Callie moved closer to Rebecca, her silhouette appearing out of the darkness. “I want ta share somethin’ sacred with ya. Most whites never seen it.”
“If you’re talking about rock paintings, we can see those in the daylight. I want to go back.”
“No. It’s not paintings.” Callie turned silent, then continued, her voice soft and expressive. “This is kind of like yer church, mum. I went ta see yer ways. Now I want ya ta see mine.”
“You’d like to share a religious ceremony with me?”
“Yais . . . but not exactly. It’s a ceremony, but also a secret life. It’s taboo for women.”