by Jane Charles
The best part about living in this area of the country was the wooded trails and rolling hills. Matthew found it quicker and more enjoyable than riding on the road and the land reminded him of his family estate. Several paths turned off and he learned these led to the roads or drives of several properties. He didn’t know if others used these trails for hunting and remained alert to anyone else around. He would hate to be shot by accident.
He veered to the left and took a path he hadn’t tried before. It wove up to a lovely pasture. To his left several cows grazed, kept from wandering by long lines of fence. He rode further up the hill and anticipated he would come to a road or drive soon. When he crested the rise, he spotted a dark brick manor house. It was not his intention to emerge so close to someone’s home. A man sat on the terrace and watched him. Matthew did not think he could ride away without a word. Besides, he had not met this particular gentleman before and thought it a good opportunity to make his acquaintance. Usually one went to the door, left their card and waited to be announced. Instead, he rode up to the terrace and dismounted.
The gentleman continued to watch him and did not say a word. Matthew considered leaving, but knew it would be beyond rude to do so. A bit ill at ease he approached until he reached the small table where the older man was sitting. “Good afternoon, sir, I am Vicar Trent, new to the parish.”
The man offered a slight smile and indicated to the chair on his left. Matthew relaxed at the welcome and settled down. A voice could be heard coming from the room inside. It reminded him of Miss Cooper. He had put off calling on the family because he was still trying to get her image, eyes and voice, out of his mind.
An older woman sailed through the door and placed a tray on the table. “Good afternoon, Vicar Trent.”
He stood. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Thomas.” He had visited her home a few days earlier.
“Allow me to introduce Mr. Cooper.”
Matthew turned and nodded to the man. Now he understood why he had not spoken. According to the residents, Mr. Cooper had been struck in the throat and head by the back leg of a horse some two years ago. He hadn’t spoken since and could no longer use his right arm. The townspeople made it sound as if he were reduced to a complete invalid and simpleton with Miss Cooper taking care of him day and night. Several residents questioned Mr. Cooper’s judgment even before the accident because he refused to let the land be used for a more profitable purpose such as sheep for the growing local wool industry, farming the fertile land or allowing mining, since in all probability there were rich iron ore deposits just below the surface. Mr. Cooper refused, and wanted no further burden than chickens and cows. Many of the citizens agreed that it was such a shame since the man was known for his intelligence and judgment given he had been a solicitor before the accident.
Over the past several days Matthew had heard several tidbits of information regarding the Coopers, as if they were the only family in town worth gossiping about. It had made him increasingly uncomfortable and he turned the conversation to something more pleasant the moment he had the chance. He couldn’t understand the fascination with the father and daughter unless there was so little to discuss in this town, that they were the most interesting topic.
“Mr. Cooper, it is an honor to meet you. I’ve heard much about your family.”
The man rolled his eyes. Perhaps the man suspected what the people in the town thought of him. Matthew settled in the chair once again.
Mrs. Thomas handed him a cup of tea. “If you will excuse me, I need to get back inside to chaperone Miss Cooper.”
“It sounds as if she has a few callers this afternoon.”
“Three.” The woman snorted. “And none of them good enough for her.”
Before Matthew could comment, she returned inside. He turned to Mr. Cooper who watched him with interest, one eyebrow raised. Matthew wondered what he questioned.
“Three suitors?”
The man gave a quick nod then brought his hand up to his ear.
Mr. Cooper may not be able to speak but he was far from a simpleton. Matthew quieted so Mr. Cooper could eavesdrop on his daughter’s conversation. While Matthew did not condone such activity, he understood completely in this instance since it was the man’s daughter, and her possible future. Matthew sipped and listened as well. Perhaps this was not well done of him and he should leave the man to his business, but curiosity won him over.
The conversation drifted out the window and he had to wonder what Mr. Cooper thought. Each of the men offered options for how Miss Cooper could take care of her father. “It doesn’t sound like Miss Cooper is open to their suggestions,” Matthew whispered.
The man shook his head and they both went back to listening.
Matthew was astounded when she announced her answer was no and he turned back to her father. “Did they all propose at this visit?” Usually gentlemen approached these matters when he had the opportunity to speak to the lady alone, and after he had spoken with the father.
Mr. Cooper rolled his eyes, shook his head in the negative.
“Did any ask for your blessing?”
The man frowned.
No need to ask if he favored one over the other. If they couldn’t respect the father, or tradition, they didn’t deserve to marry the lady in question.
“Is the uncle your brother?”
The man scowled further and nodded.
A door further down opened and Miss Cooper stormed onto the terrace. Mr. Cooper raised his finger to his lips. So, Miss Cooper didn’t know her father heard the entire conversation. Matthew wondered how often the man had sat there and listened. He wasn’t about to be the one who told her and stood to greet the young woman when she approached.
She regarded him with irritation, or perhaps she was still provoked from her encounter inside. “Vicar Trent, I had not realized you came to call.”
“I was riding in the woods and followed the path. I did not know it led to your home.”
She glanced at her father.
“When I saw your father sitting here, I could not just ride on by. Mrs. Thomas was kind enough to introduce us.”
Miss Cooper worried her bottom lip. Was she afraid he would insult her father? Given her most recent conversation, and what he had heard in town, he could well understand her concern. As their prior meetings had not gone well either, there was a very good chance that Miss Cooper didn’t want him anywhere near, and he really couldn’t blame her.
“Your father and I were just having a nice discussion. I would be pleased if you joined us.”
Her eyes narrowed but she settled into a vacant seat. Her spine remained stiff however. “You know my father cannot carry on a conversation.”
Matthew needed to put her at ease. Perhaps her three suitors had left her in a foul mood, not that he could blame her. “I beg to differ, Miss. Cooper. A man can speak volumes with mere facial expressions.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
“You did not accompany your daughter to church. Were you under the weather?”
Mr. Cooper gestured to his legs, and then pointed to the cane on his left.
“My father can no longer get in and out of a carriage, or ride a horse.”
As there was no other way to travel to church, as he was certain Mr. Cooper could not walk that distance either, Matthew knew this man would never grace one of the pews. Still, that should not keep the man from the Word of God. I would be happy to call on you each Sunday, after service, and share with you the message of the day.”
The man’s face brightened and this time the smile revealed straight white teeth. Matthew was encouraged that the man still wished to attend even though it was physically impossible.
“Do you intend to stand in the parlor and deliver the same sermon?” Miss Cooper asked.
Matthew chuckled. Perhaps she was thinking she would not have to attend either and simply hear the message here. “No. When I visit my parishioners in their home, I offer an abridged version and talk with them.”
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Her cheeks pinked.
“I know my father has missed attending services. We would both be grateful if you could call.”
Mr. Cooper nodded his head with enthusiasm.
“And, if you are here with my father, I won’t need to worry about how much noise the children make during Sunday school.”
Her smile did not meet her eyes, and Matthew surmised she still was not happy with his intrusion on her lessons earlier in the week.
“Perhaps it is the best arrangement. We shall see.”
Grace stared down at the structure of rocks and twigs. It was a fine replication indeed. The children surrounded her, each grinned, and pleased with their work. “And that, children, is Solomon’s temple.”
“It is very grand indeed,” a young girl whispered in awe.
“Now that we know how it was built, close your eyes and try to image it full size, and how splendid it must have been.”
They did as they were told, a variety of smiles appeared on their faces. It pleased Grace to see them this way. Learning the lessons from the Bible was very important, but she thought it almost as important to let them be creative. A stilted imagination led to a stilted mind. Had her gentlemen suitors’ imaginations been encouraged perhaps they would have been better suited to her. But no, given their conversations, their minds could not see beyond outward appearances. Was Vicar Trent as unimaginative?
No one saw beyond her father’s disability. If he lacked this ability, he would have dismissed her father at their first meeting. She wondered how the visit this afternoon progressed and hoped her father was not disappointed. Since his accident, he dressed only in the clothing he wore when working in the barn and tending animals. Today he had his valet dress him in a fine pair of breeches, waistcoat, outer coat, shirt and cravat as he had worn to church and to the office prior to the accident. It warmed her heart to see him enthusiastic and looking forward to the visit from Vicar Trent. He had even shooed her from the house before he arrived. This is what she found odd, but didn’t question it as her father seemed happier than he had been in a very long time.
“What do you think is most magnificent in Solomon’s Temple?”
Some of the children looked at her, others scrunched their faces as if trying to determine.
“The carved cedar walls,” Patrick, a boy of about ten, answered. This did not surprise her. Patrick always had a piece of wood and small knife and carved whenever he sat.
“The inner sanctuary in all gold.”
“The cherubim.”
The children called out their various answers.
“I have the ark, Miss Cooper.” Becca stepped forward and offered her a small boat made out of twigs.
Grace took the item. Oh dear, the child misunderstood. A boy to her left snickered and Grace shot him a disapproving look. Becca was only five. Grace should have anticipated that the term ark would confuse some of the children.
She knelt to look the young girl in the eye. “This is a lovely boat, indeed, Becca, but I am afraid I confused you.”
“You said they put the ark in the temple.”
A smile pulled at Grace’s lips. “Yes I did, which was my mistake. The Ark of the Covenant was placed in the temple. Not Noah’s ark.”
The child frowned and took the boat out of Grace’s hand. Tears pooled in her eyes and Grace reached out for the girl. “I am sorry. I should have been more specific. Do you think you could make the Ark of the Covenant?”
The child looked up and nodded. Grace brushed the tear from her cheek. The little girl set about gathering more twigs.
Matthew stood a few feet away and listened as the children discussed the temple and he wasn’t surprised by Becca’s mistake. Children were always more fascinated with Noah’s ark and completely misunderstood the Ark of the Covenant. Miss Cooper handled the situation well so that the little girl was not too upset. His heart went out to Becca and it was a lesson for him. One cannot assume everyone understands, and he would need to be careful in the future so that one of his parishioners did not mistake his words.
One person who did understand and Matthew wished the man could converse with him verbally, was Mr. Cooper. They had spent the last two hours on his sermon from this morning, being the salt of the earth and light of the world. Mr. Cooper felt strongly about these verses, especially the part of the salt losing its saltiness. For so long Mr. Cooper had been treated as if he was no longer good for anything. He scratched out notes with his left hand, ones Matthew could barely read, but the message was clear. The village treated him as if he had little to offer the world, and he struggled with how he could make people see him differently. And, the man hated that his daughter was the one taking care of him instead of the other way around. Miss Cooper should be enjoying friends, attending dances, even the Season, but she refused to leave his side except occasionally.
“How long is a cubit?” the little boy from last week who had been brandishing the pretend sword asked.
“I don’t know, Tommy.” Miss Cooper shrugged.
A teacher should know this. Matthew stepped toward the group. “It is approximately one and a half feet.”
They looked up at him in surprise. Miss Cooper curtseyed and the children took a step back. Were they still afraid of him?
“Though, the Egyptians used the measurement from the tip of the middle finger to the elbow.” He held up his arm in demonstration.
A few of the children did the same, comparing the length of their arms. “But none of them are the same size.”
“No, they are not, which is why they measured a man’s arm.”
A few children seemed to study him. “Why don’t you measure my arm and then measure out the width of the temple.”
Miss Cooper opened her mouth and her eyes widened. He suspected his offer surprised her, especially after last week.
“Becca, do you have string left over?”
A little girl with brown curls rushed forward. Tommy took the string and measured Matthew’s arm before he raced off with the older boys. They placed a stake in the ground and measured until they reached approximately twenty cubits. As they made their way across the pasture, the remaining children’s eyes grew wider and wider. They stared in awe when the last stake was hammered into the ground. Tommy stood with hands on his hips triumphant. “That is how wide Solomon’s temple was,” he yelled back to them.
Their eyes kept going from one stake to the other, as if they were still trying to comprehend the size.
Miss Cooper chuckled. “I told you it was large.”
“Blimey,” a young boy uttered.
Miss Cooper turned to Matthew. “Thank you for the explanation. I am sure the children now have a better understanding.” Happiness sparkled in her emerald eyes, and he noticed the small dimple at the left corner of her mouth. Her pale, pink lips puckered nicely too.
What was he thinking?
Matthew offered a quick bow. “It is my pleasure. Now, I need to return to my work.” He had to leave. Miss Cooper made him take leave of his purpose.
“Wait,” she called when he turned to walk away. “How was my father? Did the two of you get on well?”
He was not sure how to answer. Did he want to alert Miss Cooper to the possibility her father may be suffering from melancholy? She already worried about him. “I enjoyed my visit very much. And, your father was not without his opinions.”
“Of that I don’t doubt. He and Vicar Merker, before the accident, often had lively discussions.”
“I believe he was a bit frustrated at times since he could only tell me what he was thinking by writing it out.”
Her face sobered and tears sprung to her eyes. He hadn’t meant to say anything to upset Miss Cooper.
“He tried to write?”
“Yes. I assumed that is how he conversed when a nod would not suffice.”
She smiled and swiped a tear. “My father hasn’t tried to write in a very long time. He gave up in frustration when he had to write with his le
ft hand.”
“I would have never guessed, though he struggled a bit.”
“Thank you.” She reached out and grasped his hand before she quickly let it go, as if realizing her actions were not proper. “Nobody has given my father reason to try and write again.”
His heart constricted. He never dreamed his words could cause a man to attempt something he had given up on and wasn’t sure how to respond to Miss Cooper. “I am glad he was motivated.” With that, he took his leave and made his way back to the parish house.
What was it about Miss Cooper? This morning he had looked for her and noted she sat in the fifth pew on the right. At least she wasn’t late this morning, but her presence was a distraction just the same. As with the week before she sang with joy and during the sermon her eyes never left him. Granted, they could have strayed when he looked somewhere else, but when he returned his gaze to her, she still watched, a smile on her face as if she was having a very fine time. Didn’t she know the Lord’s house was a somber place for meditation and the asking for forgiveness of sins? Surely, her father would have taught her this proper behavior. Nobody else in the church smiled so why did she?
During the sermon he found himself consulting his notes more often than not when distracted by her clear, green eyes. He was the vicar in this parish and needed to remember his purpose. It was not to be attracted to a parishioner, no matter how pretty. He needed to keep that in mind. How could he lead a flock if his mind was on her?
Mr. Cooper asked that he return soon and Matthew agreed. However, on reflection he knew he would need to make those visits when Miss Cooper was not at home. It was safer for him and his profession if he kept his distance. A gentleman could not serve the Lord if he was focused on someone else.
Matthew walked into his office and stood at his desk. The foolscap of Matthew 5:48 stared at him. Beside it he placed the verse Mr. Cooper had written out for him. Though it was near indecipherable, Matthew could still read it. Ecclesiastes7:20, There is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sin. As Mr. Cooper pointed out, that while Matthew aimed for perfection, he would never be without sin, nor would those in the parish. Was the older man trying to deliver a warning about righteousness? Matthew wished he could have understood better. It was something he needed to keep in mind, though he would still strive for perfection for the Lord. Nothing else was acceptable for him and he feared never achieving it.