“What if she didn’t?” Nancy found it the perfect opening to ask questions about her own situation. “What if she knew nothing about what her husband had planned—what he was doing?”
“If she didn’t, then she can’t be charged with crimes, but of course they will weigh the evidence and not just go by what she says. It’s easy to say you had no involvement.”
His words struck at her as if he knew what she was thinking. Did he suspect that she had some part in Albert’s schemes?
“In a society that treats women very poorly at times, I feel sorry for her trying to prove her innocence,” she said.
“She’s bound to have friends and family who will vouch for her. And, as I said”—his words were soft and full of compassion—“the court will look for proof, not speculation. Women are trapped by their gender and restricted to situations where they have little defense. I believe there are honest and good lawyers and judges, however. And I believe, too, that men will often err in favor of the gentler sex rather than predetermine guilt by association. We know how overbearing and demanding men can be.”
Nancy couldn’t help but feel he was speaking directly to her. Dare she hope that she had a confidant and trusted friend in Seth Carpenter? He was, after all, a longtime friend of the family. Surely she could tell him the things she’d learned—at least in time.
Chapter 10
Summer had turned exceptionally pretty, with rains causing an abundance of flowers, particularly roses. When they’d first moved to this house, Nancy had planted several beds of roses, and seeing them in bloom made her happy. It was a colorful reminder of her hard work, but more than that, it reminded her of various friends and family, as most of the bushes had come from them.
Clipping spent blooms from the roses around her porch, Nancy thought of her mother. She looked at the small pink blooms of the plant and remembered it was one of Grace Armistead’s favorites. She’d given Nancy a cutting to transplant shortly after her marriage to Albert.
“I hope this will remind you of me and how much I love you,” Mother had said. “Always remember you have a family who loves you, Nancy.”
A wave of guilt washed over her. She really needed to write to her parents and apologize for her terrible behavior during their visit. She’d received a letter from her mother a couple of weeks back and had been so overcome with guilt that she’d hardly done more than scan the lines. Now her guilt was coupled with the continued harshness she felt toward Bedelia. They’d said nothing more on the matter when the sisters returned home, but Nancy still held the older woman’s ridiculous rules of comportment and judgmental attitude against her.
The funny thing was, in the past it wouldn’t have eaten at Nancy the way it did now. She wouldn’t have given the matter much thought. She would have simply eradicated Bedelia from her life and gone on with her own affairs. She supposed, however, that because Bedelia lived at the house and was always there to condemn her, Nancy found it impossible to forget her words.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
Nancy rose from where she’d been kneeling and greeted her visitor. “Mrs. Taylor. How wonderful to see you.”
Mary Taylor smiled as she made her way up the sidewalk. She used her ornate cane more as an accessory than a necessity, and Nancy thought it made her look stately and refined. “It’s a beautiful day.”
“Yes, and since the boy just cut the grass yesterday, I thought I should do my part to refresh my roses.” Nancy put the shears in her pocket and dusted her gloved hands. “Would you care to join me? I was about to have some refreshment.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“We can sit on the porch and enjoy the day.”
“I must confess, it was my desire to do just that. I’m so glad you have time for me.”
“I always have time for my friends.” Nancy supposed that hadn’t always been true, but of late it was. In the wake of losing Albert, she found her personal relationships in need of nurturing. It wasn’t easy, however. She’d always believed that her life didn’t need to be scrutinized by anyone for any reason. Not even for the sake of friendship. She had avoided people and the closeness of friends, always holding everyone at arm’s length. Now she found she wanted more.
Nancy went inside and put the kettle on for tea. She washed up and changed from her gardening coat, then set a tray with all they would need for their impromptu tea party.
When the kettle began to whistle, Nancy pulled the pot from the stove and poured hot water into a china teapot. It was such a treat to have Mary stop by. Nancy had never known her grandmother, and Mary had come to fill that role.
“Here we are,” Nancy said, exiting the house with the large tray. “I hope you’ve made yourself comfortable.”
“Indeed. This is one of the most pleasant porches in town,” Mary Taylor declared from the rocker. “I have a great fondness for it.”
“I do too.” Nancy placed the tray on the table. “I pity the woman who has no porch, for you can enjoy them rain or shine.” She poured the tea and handed a cup and saucer to Mary. “So, tell me what brings you out today.”
“I had a few errands to see to, and your house was on the way. I thought it only right that I come see how you are faring.”
It was the perfect opening to discuss the matters that had been on Nancy’s heart, but she hesitated. It was hardly good manners to just jump in with one’s troubles. She wanted Mary’s counsel, but it could wait.
“I’m doing well. And what of you and Mr. Taylor? Did you decide about painting the house?”
Mary chuckled. “That debate will continue another day. Mr. Taylor has gotten completely caught up in purchasing dairy cattle. I don’t know why he suddenly has the urge to start a dairy farm, but it seems important to him.”
“A dairy farm? Goodness, you won’t move from Portland, will you?”
“No. This is a joint venture between Mr. Taylor and two other gentlemen, neither of whom desire to live on a farm but rather wish to have the investment for the future. I believe it to be sound, with our growing population, but his focus on this new project has brought everything else to a standstill.”
Nancy nodded and extended a plate of oatmeal cookies. Mary took one and settled it on the edge of her saucer.
“I can tell there is something on your mind, Nancy. I suppose I could even go so far as to say that I felt God’s urging to come see you because of it.”
“God told you to come see me?”
“In a sense.” Mary smiled. “Why don’t you tell me how you are doing? What’s really been on your mind?”
“I . . . well . . .” Nancy stopped and drew a deep breath. “I’ve been troubled by several things.”
“Albert?”
“No. Not exactly. I suppose I should be the grieving widow, but I’m not. Does that shock you?”
Mary gave a chuckle. “No, my dear. I knew there was little love lost between the two of you.”
“There was little of anything between us. I quickly realized that after his death. He was so seldom at home. I don’t know why I didn’t wonder about it before, but it was simply the way it was, and I didn’t question it.” Nancy shook her head. “No, this is more about my coming to terms with my poor attitude. The last time I saw my parents, I was hardly civil. Then a short time ago, one of my boarders was stern with me about guarding my reputation, and I was unkind. I don’t know why it bothered me so much, but her implication was that because I didn’t care about my reputation, perhaps I wasn’t a Christian woman.” She bit her lip, then decided to plow ahead. “And that got me to wondering if perhaps I wasn’t.”
Mary nodded. “We all must come to the place where we make our faith our own or reject it outright.”
“Did you ever struggle with that?”
“Oh mercy, yes. I grew up in a family for whom church was nothing more than window dressing and a social statement. My family didn’t care at all what the Bible had to say but went to church in order to be seen
by the right people—in the right pews. My mother told me once that poor people found comfort in God, but the wealthy used Him for their advantage.”
“Goodness. That is rather shocking. Use God?”
“Everyone does at one time or another. I’ve seen people use God like a mighty sledge to drive others into despair. I’ve seen them use God as a means of control—suggesting that God somehow made a personal arrangement with them to be in charge. But in my family, they used God merely as a symbol of how good they were—how we were rich and blessed because we were somehow dearer to Him. It was deplorable, to be sure.”
“But I’ve only ever known you to be a godly woman of great faith. You have inspired me at times to see how very far I have strayed from the truth.” Nancy lowered her head. “You’ve made me reconsider the Bible and how I have neglected God.”
“You don’t know the woman I used to be,” Mary said, thoughtfully stirring her tea. “There was a time in my life when God meant no more to me than the social acceptance I mentioned.”
“What happened to change that?”
“I nearly died.”
Nancy’s head snapped up. “A friend of mine, Seth Carpenter, shared a similar situation. He said he didn’t want much to do with God because he was young and influenced otherwise. Then he nearly died one night in a fire. He prayed to God and was rescued, but not just any rescue. An impossible rescue. He was on the fourth floor, and a fireman came and took him out the window, but that was all he remembered. When he went to thank the man, he was nowhere to be found, and the other firemen said he didn’t exist and that he couldn’t have saved Seth from the fourth floor because they didn’t have a ladder that reached that high. Seth believes an angel saved him—that God intervened. Do you?”
“I believe God intervenes all the time. I believe He did so for me. I was a young woman about to give birth. The doctor said the baby’s head was stuck and that most likely he would have to cut the baby from my body. He felt that if he did this, I would die, but that if he didn’t, we would both die.”
“How terrible.” Nancy’s hand trembled, causing tea to slosh onto the saucer. She put the cup aside. “What happened?”
Mary chuckled again. “Well, obviously I’m here.” She shook her head. “But only by God’s grace. There I was, barely a girl of nineteen. Life had hardly begun, and I was looking forward to being a mother and raising a family. I wanted very much to live. The doctor explained everything to my husband and family, and even though money was no object, there was nothing money could do to save me. The doctor suggested a minister be sent for. I didn’t know the man, he wasn’t from our church, but when he arrived, he prayed with me. It was unlike any prayer I had heard from those lofty pulpits. It was a prayer of contrition on my behalf—a prayer of hope despite the darkness of the hour.
“When the doctor was ready to perform the surgery and deliver my child, there came an interruption. An injured man needed immediate attention. While the doctor went to tend the man, the minister continued to pray with me. He asked if I believed God could and should save me and my baby. I told him I felt confident that God could do anything but was less certain that He should. I told him I knew very little of the God that he spoke of, and the minister continued to share with me from the Bible. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced, Nancy. God was no longer a lofty deity—unreachable, unattainable. He was right there in the room with me. I felt the baby in me cease to struggle.”
“He died?” Nancy blurted without thinking.
“No. But the pain and the feeling that I was being ripped apart ceased. I remember thinking this was death, and at that moment, having learned the truth of God, I was ready for whatever came my way. The minister led me in prayer, and I told God that I would put my trust in Him forever. That if I were to die in that moment, I knew I would awaken in His presence. Then I felt the urge to bear down. I pushed, and the doctor returned, ready to operate. He saw that I was bearing down and commanded me to stop, but I couldn’t. He came to see what was happening and found that the baby was being born. My son lived, and so did I.”
“And that changed your heart toward God.”
“Child, it changed everything. My husband was changed and my parents too. That minister led them all to a right knowledge of God and salvation.” Mary’s eyes were damp with tears. “It forever opened my heart to who Jesus is and why I need Him so.”
Nancy could hear the sincerity of her words. This wasn’t just a story to her, this was Mary’s life—a moment of spiritual awareness that had transformed the physical as well. Now Nancy had two stories of God’s divine intervention to ponder.
“Then why could God not have saved my brother?” she asked.
Mary reached over and squeezed Nancy’s hand. “He could have, Nancy. God could have saved him to live on this earth. But sometimes that’s not the answer, and it hurts us when it seems God has rejected our prayers—our needs—because it feels like He has rejected us. But that isn’t true.”
“How can it not be? I was a little girl acting on the only truth I knew. I had been taught that God was loving and giving and that if I prayed for something, He would give it. I promised Him my best—my life, my love, my all—if only He would save Douglas.”
“Child, we can’t barter with God. He will do as He will do. Our faith is tested in times such as those—where we cannot understand, where the pain is so great that we can scarcely draw breath. I’ve never told you this, but I lost two little ones years after nearly dying giving birth to my first.”
Nancy felt terrible for not even considering this possibility. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Mary dabbed the napkin to her eyes. “I lost two daughters when they were barely walking. One died from a terrible fever, and then two years later, the other died when she fell in the river and drowned.”
Nancy’s eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks. “How could you keep trusting God after that?”
Mary gave only a hint of a nod. “How could I not? What alternative was left to me?”
Her words pierced Nancy’s heart. She wanted so much to be rid of the terrible ache in her heart—the emptiness that she was becoming more certain was due to God’s absence. Yet how could she trust Him?
“A choice must be made, Nancy,” Mary said as if reading Nancy’s thoughts. “God will not impose Himself on you. He calls tenderly to you—He loves you and desires for you to love Him in return.”
“But I’m afraid.” There it was. Fear. Fear so huge, so encompassing, that Nancy felt it nearly cut off her air. “What if He wants nothing more to do with me? What if I hurt Him too much with my rejection? What if I pushed Him too far away from me?”
Mary put her cup and saucer aside and leaned forward. “You don’t have that kind of power, Nancy. God is not subject to man’s laws and thinking. He’s there for you and wants you to come back to Him.”
A sob broke from Nancy’s throat. “But how? What do I do?”
“Let go of your misery and fear—give it to Him. Ask Him to receive your heart—to be your God. Trust Him.”
Nancy fell forward, burying her face in the skirt of her gown. She cried as she hadn’t cried since the night Douglas had died. She felt a hand on her back, comforting her, and knew Mary would stay with her no matter how long her tears fell.
But better still, Nancy knew God was there as well, and the certainty of that filled her with a wonder she had never known.
Could He forgive her?
Chapter 11
Gabe Armistead, as I live and breathe.” Seth beheld the friend he’d not seen in at least five years. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Seth, it’s good to see you again.” Gabe extended his hand, but Seth pulled him in for a hug. The two men embraced, laughing.
“How did you know to find me here?”
“The folks.” Gabe glanced over his shoulder. “This is where you work now, eh?”
“Indeed. I’m working
with John Lincoln, a very respectable lawyer.” Seth motioned to one of the two leather chairs in his office. “Have a seat. I want to hear what you’ve been doing all these years.”
“Mostly running the family lumber mill in Oregon City. My uncle Edward and his sons have a separate mill there, and together we have a partnership in a mill here in Portland. Keeps us all very busy.”
“I can imagine.” Seth took the other chair. “Are you married?”
Gabe shook his head. “I almost got hitched a few years ago, but she changed her mind, and God changed mine.” He laughed. “It turned out to be the best of decisions, and we all remained friends. Otherwise there’s been no one special, and I’ve been way too busy to go to all the trouble of getting to know someone. How about you?”
“Well, there was no one for the longest time. I had little interest in anything save the law. Now, however . . .” He let the words trail off as he considered what he might say to Nancy’s brother regarding his interest in her.
“Now there is someone?”
Seth nodded. “I’d like there to be.”
“What’s she like?”
“Your sister Nancy.”
Gabe looked confused. “She’s like Nancy?”
“No. She is Nancy. I’ve been working with John on her legal matters, and I’ve developed feelings for her.”
Gabe laughed out loud. “My folks would be delighted to hear that. They worry about that girl something fierce, and I know they would be happy to have someone like you watching over her and keeping her out of trouble.”
“Well, that remains to be seen. The fact is, she’s got a lot on her shoulders. That dead husband of hers left a world of troubles behind. We’re still trying to sort it all out.”
“I never liked the fellow. He was determined to keep Nancy from the family. I once tried to talk to him about coming around more often. I told him how important family was to us and how we were all real close, and we wanted him and Nancy to be close too. He told me to mind my own business and leave them to tend their own. He said he’d grown up without anybody and didn’t need anyone now. I nearly punched him in the mouth.”
Secrets of My Heart Page 11