chapter
thirty-three
Serepta couldn’t believe her world had come to this—following two Harpe men deep into the bowels of a mountain. She knew they thought she should stay behind with the women, but she’d rarely let what anyone else thought stop her before. She wasn’t sure she believed this nonsense about Colman being able to hear Ivy singing, but neither did she have a better plan for finding Emmaline. And she would find her.
Scrambling over a tumble of rocks, she bumped her head and bit her lip to keep from crying out. She touched the spot and felt moisture. Blood, but not enough to slow her down. She pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to the cut as they pushed farther into the cave.
“Don’t think I can squeeze through that there gap,” Johnny said. Long and lean, the man was clearly too tall for the space. “Want I should go back and send someone else?”
Colman huffed air through his nose. “Don’t bother. We’ll be fine.” He darted a look at Serepta. If he thought she would return with Johnny, he’d better think again. She nodded once and waved him on.
Colman moved ahead, slow but steady, contorting his body to fit through what passed for a tunnel. His face was pale and his eyes wide in the lantern light. She supposed this must be hard for him, having been lost here once. Well, almost every moment of every day of her life had been hard. If she could continue on, surely this supposed preacher could, too.
“Where is your God now?”
Colman paused and looked back at Serepta. “What?”
“Your Almighty God—where is He when children are kidnapped? Where is He when men shoot one another down?” She sneered. “Where is He when the world is nothing but darkness and you’re buried inside a mountain?”
Colman shook his head. “Woman, you want to talk theology now?”
“Ah. I see. God can only be found in the comfort of a congregation in the light of day. Don’t trouble yourself. I did not suppose He was really here.”
Colman wanted to scream with frustration. Now? God was opening the door for him to witness to Serepta McLean now? He slumped against the stones surrounding him. Well, why not? Ivy had stopped singing, and it wasn’t as if he knew what he was doing. He’d probably muddle things again, but surely God would sort it out.
“God is everywhere,” he began.
Serepta crossed her arms, her eyes sparking in the flickering light. “Not where I am. He left me a long time ago—maybe even before I was born. And I have managed just fine without Him.”
Colman ran a hand over his face. “It’s right there in Psalm 139. ‘Whither shall I go from thy spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence?’ King David knew he couldn’t go anywhere God wasn’t. If He’s not with you, then He’s not the one who left.”
Bitter laughter burst from Serepta. “Such pretty words. Was He with you when you were lost inside this cave? Was He with Ivy and Emmaline when they were taken?” Her voice caught and her eyes gleamed. “Was God with Charlie when he was beaten, or with my son when he died?”
Colman swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“How can you say such a thing? How can you believe God gives any of us more than a passing thought when such horrors befall good people every single day?”
“Because none of us are good, and there’s more to life than today.”
Serepta looked like she wanted to pace back and forth, but the tight space prevented her from doing so. The tension rolling off of her made the space feel even smaller. “There is nothing but today,” she countered.
“That’s just it, Serepta.” Colman felt an unexpected tenderness for this hard woman welling up within him. “There’s eternity. And everything we suffer here will seem like nothing once we arrive there.” He slapped a chunk of fallen stone. “I’ve done my fair share of complaining. I’ve cried out to God more than once, and He answered me. It sure as shooting didn’t sound like the answer I wanted to hear, but I know He’s smarter than me.” He stood and held the lantern in front of him. “We should keep moving. Those girls need our help, and it just might be that God will use us to rescue them.”
Serepta frowned and muttered, but Colman could hear her just fine. “If He does, perhaps I will give Him another chance.”
Serepta pondered what Colman had said. She didn’t want to believe in a God who had allowed such grief to befall her over and over again, and yet it would be a comfort to suppose there was more to her existence on earth than this never-ending struggle. The cut on her forehead throbbed with each beat of her heart. She steeled herself and offered up something like a prayer—or perhaps it was a negotiation.
If you are there, God, you are a mean-spirited, vengeful sort, but then so am I. If you would have me believe in you—if you would have me look to you for anything other than pain—then you will restore Emmaline to me. For her sake I will make a concession and allow that if you can be trusted in one thing, then perhaps you can be trusted in others. I do not suppose what I am offering is enough, but it is all I am willing to give. You may take it or you may leave it.
She considered adding an amen, but it felt insincere. If God was all that He claimed, then He would not wonder to whom she was speaking.
Colman slid down an incline where a trickle of water ran. Serepta stepped forward to follow him but then saw another opening to her left. Hope blazed up in her so unexpectedly that she froze. It was as though a warm breeze pushed her toward the other tunnel. She glanced at Colman, who was fussing with a wet pant leg, then turned and slipped into the passage.
Where in tarnation had that woman gone? Colman called out, but she didn’t answer. Though he could hear movement, he couldn’t see her. Had she gone back? Had she gotten turned around and lost? She’d been carrying a second, unlit lantern, so wherever she was, she wouldn’t be in the dark. Maybe if he extinguished his own lantern, he’d be able to see hers. He pursed his lips to blow out the flame, then hesitated. The thought of being thrust into darkness was hard to bear. What if he didn’t see Serepta’s light?
“Why, you’ll just relight this one.” He said the words aloud to reassure himself.
Sweat popped out on his forehead in the cool of the cave. He swiped at it, forced a laugh, and blew out the flame.
Darkness wrapped around him so suddenly he thought he was suffocating. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and strained his eyes against the dark. No light. Well then, he’d best get this lantern relit. He’d just go on without that hardheaded woman. If she was lost, let someone else find her. And if she’d turned around without telling him—well, that was the sort of trick he’d expect of her. It would be simple enough for her to follow the chalk marks back to the entrance.
He dug in his pocket for the matches. His fingers closed around them just as he heard a shout from somewhere deep in the cave. It was a joyful sound, and his heart leapt. Had the other team found them? Were they even now returning to sunlight and fresh air? He fumbled with the matchbox and heard it fall. Lunging toward the sound, his head came in contact with rock, and a deeper darkness closed over him.
They were found. Serepta didn’t know what to make of it. The passage she’d turned down led straight to Ivy and Emmaline—cold, weary, tired, but altogether intact. Moments after she’d found them, Elam appeared and gave a whoop of delight. She almost joined in, almost allowed a smile to stretch her lips wide with joy.
Emmaline flew into her arms and burrowed her tangled curls against her shoulder. Serepta closed her eyes and breathed in the grubby little girl smell of her. Had God heard her? Or was this a mere coincidence? She was afraid to trust anyone—much less a God she could not see—and yet denying Him now felt like an even bigger risk.
“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”
Now where had that come from?
“Momma, you found me.”
Serepta cradled the child closer. “Did I not tell you I would never fail you?”
Emmaline nodded her head and sighed, relaxing as though all her worries were at
an end forever. And in that moment Serepta envied this helpless child who trusted her so completely. She did not deserve such trust, and yet here it was. What a relief it would be to trust someone like that. What was it Colman said? “Trust God.”
Well, she wasn’t convinced just yet, but she could at least understand why people wanted to believe in a God who would provide for them. She wanted that, too. If only life had not taught her how useless wanting was.
“Let’s get you’uns out of here and cleaned up,” Elam said. “I expect you’re ready to see the light again. Hoyt had to turn back when we was forced to crawl on our bellies, but he’ll be awful glad to see ya.”
Ivy laid a hand on Serepta’s shoulder. “Thank you for finding us,” she said in a raspy voice. “I was running out of songs.”
“Colman is the one who heard you and brought us here.” Serepta was surprised at herself. She had not intended to praise that fool of a Harpe.
“He did?” Ivy looked around. “Where is he?”
“In the passage behind me. I expect if we call to him, he will hear and meet us.” She looked Elam up and down, taking in his filthy clothes. “And the way I came did not require crawling on my belly.”
Elam chuckled. “No, ma’am. I don’t expect you’ve ever crawled for anybody.”
Serepta pursed her lips but let the gibe pass. She turned and led the way, putting Emmaline down so they could navigate the rough passage. Elam called and hallooed for Colman every few feet. She assumed they would meet him in short order, but instead they found themselves back at the entrance to the cave. Everyone cheered when they saw the missing girls, and there was much excitement for a few moments. Finally, Johnny approached and asked where Colman had gotten to.
“Is he not here?” Serepta asked.
The joy of the crowd faltered as others began to realize that one was still missing from their group.
Johnny looked at her like he thought she was responsible for Colman being missing. “He was with you. Do you mean to say he’s still in there? How’d you get separated?”
“I followed my instincts while Colman followed his ears,” she snapped. The nerve of them behaving as if she were responsible for the man.
Johnny flapped his hands. “We’ve gotta go after him. Poor feller’s been lost in there once before—he might’ve gone off his head or something.”
“Ivy’s gone back for him.” Hoyt stepped forward and chuckled. “Guess she’s more comfortable in the dark than most of us. I told her someone would go with her, but she just went on ahead. Said she’d be right back.” The old man smiled. “And I believe her.”
chapter
thirty-four
It seemed no one would leave the cave entrance until everyone was out again. Serepta frowned. She supposed it was the correct thing to wait, but she’d never paid much attention to societal expectations. Emmaline had fallen asleep against her shoulder and was growing heavy, but Serepta was loath to put her down.
She drew farther back, moving toward a burbling stream. She’d never fit in with people, least of all this ragtag band of feuding families united in Ivy’s and Emmaline’s—perhaps even Colman’s—rescue. She sat, settling Emmaline more securely on her lap, and bent to the side so she could wet a handkerchief in the water. She used it to wipe her face. Then she scooped some water in her hand and lifted it to her mouth.
“Feels good going down, don’t it? Better than that hooch you make.”
Serepta stilled, then scooped more water.
Lena sat down on a gnarled root at the edge of the stream. She kicked off her shoes and slid her feet into the cool water. “Oh my, that does feel good. A woman oughtn’t ever be too old or too proud to put her hot feet in a crick.”
Serepta sighed. “You needn’t keep me company.”
“I’m cooling my feet. You just happened to be at a likely spot.”
A ghost of a smile flitted across Serepta’s face. “Your husband was cousin to mine, wasn’t he?”
“Best I know. Don’t think they ever spent much time together. Didn’t run in the same circles, even if they were part of the same family.” Lena sloshed her feet back and forth. “Funny how people run in packs.”
“Unless they run alone.”
“You like being on your own?”
Serepta looked toward the cave and the people gathered there waiting. One of her boys was dead. The other had left without a backward glance. Charlie had been run off, and the child she’d begun to think of as her own had been stolen, if temporarily. “I thought I did.” She fingered her pearls. “But I don’t suppose I was quite as alone as I imagined.”
Lena nodded. “Life has a way of teaching you lessons you thought you’d already learned.” She nodded toward Nell. “That one there’s fixing to learn a hard lesson right now.”
Serepta looked at the pretty young woman, glad to have the attention diverted from herself. “Why do you say that?”
“She’s set her cap for that preacher. Guess I might have encouraged her in it. He seems like a fine fella, and I figured it might be a step toward ending this danged feud.” She watched Serepta like she expected her to protest. When she didn’t, the other woman continued. “But he don’t have eyes for my Nell.” She chuckled. “Best I can tell he’s sweet on Ivy, though I’m not sure even he knows it.”
“Ivy?” Serepta eyed the cave again. “Is that why he went in there?”
“I expect so.”
“It has been my experience—” she hesitated to finish the thought—“that men prefer women who are more . . . traditionally attractive.”
Lena laughed and pulled her feet from the water, resting them on plush green moss. “Ain’t that the truth. My Nell could have had a husband three or four times over, but she’s particular.” This time her laugh sounded hard. “Wants what she cain’t have, that one. Makes the preacher-man awful tempting to her.”
“And you, what do you want?” Serepta had no idea where that question had come from. She’d never been one for idle conversation.
Lena cocked her head to the side. “Well now, mostly it don’t matter what I want. Wanting don’t put food on the table or shoes on your feet.” She began to refasten her own shoes. “But if such as that didn’t matter, well . . .” She grinned. “I’d want a big house with sunshine in every room. Water would come right out of the spigot, and I’d have a cook to make my meals.” Standing, she looked Serepta up and down. “I’d still cook now and again—when I felt like it. It’s just I wouldn’t have to do it.” She turned to leave, then looked back before moving on toward the others. “That’s the thing about want. It’s got nothin’ to do with have to.”
Serepta nodded and stared into the flow of water rushing down the mountain. Lena had just described what Serepta had—what she had worked so very hard to attain. And yet it did not satisfy. She wasn’t sure she’d ever truly believed it would.
She shook her head. “Have to” was something she’d been running from all her life.
Colman sat up slow and easy. Here he was again, sick and alone in the dark. He felt like he had when he’d tumbled out of the cavern at Ivy’s feet all those months ago. It was as though the strength he’d rebuilt had been stolen by the pressing darkness, leaving him a hollowed-out shell of the man he’d thought himself to be. He began to pray. It wasn’t a very good prayer, and it took a few jumbled thoughts and words before he began to make sense, even to himself. He spoke aloud to the stones and the mountain around him.
“I have done what you asked. I preached to the McLeans. I even told Serepta about you as best I could. And now all I want is to find Ivy and go home. I’ll set up my own little church there and tell everyone who comes all about you. And Ivy . . . maybe she’ll come with me.” He took a deep breath and felt a little calmer. “Just show me where she is, and I’ll fetch her and the child out. Then I can be done with this place. Can be done with what you asked of me.”
He sat, letting the weight of darkness wrap him in its cocoon. It wasn’t quite
peace that he felt, but his hopelessness subsided. Then he heard a whisper of a voice. Had the others returned?
Do you suppose I love Ivy more than the rest?
He looked around, his blood running cold. “Hello?”
While he didn’t hear an audible voice, words poured into his mind.
“For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.”
His head cleared, and he started to feel as though he were on the edge of figuring out something really important.
And then the silence began to sing.
chapter
thirty-five
Serepta settled the sleeping Emmaline in the back seat of her automobile. She was tempted to leave the group waiting for Colman and Ivy, but something about the way Lena had sought her out made her want to stay. She walked toward the people gathered near the cave entrance. She’d sat at the stream turning her sins over and over like rocks tumbled by the water. Not that she’d let anyone else call them sins, but she knew that was what they were. Sins of commission and omission. She supposed she’d known them to be sins all along. It’s just that she’d always thought she was justified—excused because of the sins that had been visited upon her first.
Maybe not.
Maybe there was a price to pay.
One of the two Harpe men who’d come from the train station sat under a tree, carving on a stick—Johnny, she thought. She stood near him and watched.
“That was a good thing you done, taking in that orphan child,” he said at last.
“Was it? That’s not why I did it.”
He looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. “Well that’s honest. Still, people credit it to you as good—not knowing your purpose.”
When Silence Sings Page 26