A Daughter's Quest (4 page)

She had traveled first to Fort Smith, where she had spent a couple of weeks obtaining her wardrobe and learning about travel by stagecoach and about the state of Iowa. After that, she had headed to Browning City. During that time, Constance had felt very alone, afraid of the people around her. Not one of them had reached out to her. Hopefully, today would be different. She knew she could trust people who loved God.

When she entered the building, light from outside came through the frosted windowpanes that lined the sides of the room. A single, stained-glass window above the hand-carved pulpit drew her attention. The Good Shepherd held a tiny sheep in His arms against His snowy robe. As a child, she had heard the story behind the picture. Constance walked down the center aisle and chose a seat about halfway toward the front of the sanctuary. She slipped off her cape, folded it, and placed it on the bench beside her. Then she removed her gloves and put them in her reticule on top of the cape.

Constance continued to study the picture, finally noticing other tiny sheep dotting the hillside in the background behind Jesus. Flowers scattered around His feet. She had never seen anything as beautiful as the window, and she basked in the warmth it brought to her heart. A faint hope rose that God would take care of her and help her keep the promise to her father.

Soon after she sat down, the service began. When the pastor finished the opening prayer, a woman went to the pump organ, and a profusion of musical notes filled the room. The hymns they sang were familiar to Constance, so she joined in with all her heart.

When she put her wrap on the seat beside her, it made an effective barrier between her and those who shared the same pew. Not having someone sitting with her didn’t detract from her enjoyment of the service. By the time the pastor started his message, she was glad she had come, even though she didn’t know anyone.

“‘The secret things belong unto the L
ORD
our God. …’” The pastor read a verse from Deuteronomy that Constance had never noticed before. “‘But those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law.’”

Of course, Constance loved the New Testament, and she read it much more often than she did the Old Testament. But these words spoke straight to her heart. Too bad Mother’s Bible had fallen apart more than a year before. If she still had it, she would look up the words and read them for herself. While the preacher continued his message, Constance started to pray silently that God would help her find Mr. Mitchell. She could conclude her business with him and return to her beloved mountains before very long.

Since Hans had started having a hard time going to sleep, sometimes he overslept. Because of this, he slipped into the church after the singing started and took a seat on the back pew. He didn’t usually sit that far back. It made him feel as if he were a spectator instead of a participant in the service. He liked to be close to the front so nothing would distract him from worship. Jackson was a biblical scholar, and his messages always gave Hans a lot to think about. Often, he would return home and reread the passage of Scripture and mull over Jackson’s words for days, noting how they applied to his own life.

When he was settled in his seat, Hans glanced toward the front. His attention snagged on a woman sitting about halfway down on the opposite side of the aisle. The tilt of her head and set of her shoulders caused his heartbeat to accelerate. He glanced down and took a deep breath before raising his head again. There were other single women in the congregation, but none made him feel this way.

Besides, maybe Constance Miller wasn’t single. Just because no one came with her didn’t mean that she didn’t have a husband back home. At that thought, something unsettling dropped into his chest.

She probably was a believer. She sang every word of the hymns without looking at a hymnbook. The church only had a few scattered around the pews anyway.

Hans noticed that no one sat beside her. For just an instant, the idea of taking that empty space entered his mind, but he dismissed it, turning his attention to the words of the song. How could he be so interested in a woman he might not be able to trust? Besides, it would start gossip about both of them.

After the final prayer, Constance picked up her cape and fastened it around her shoulders before gathering her handbag and gloves.

“Hello.” The cheery feminine voice came from behind her.

Constance turned to see a woman not much older than herself. A smile wreathed the petite woman’s face.

“I’m Mary Reeves.” She held out her hand. “I don’t believe I’ve met you.”

While she took the proffered hand, Constance replied, “I just came to town last Monday. My name is Constance Miller.”

The other woman gestured toward the back door where the pastor was shaking hands with people as they left the building. “That’s my husband, Jackson. We’d like to have you join us for lunch. I have a roast in the oven, and we usually invite anyone who is new to share a meal with us.”

Constance liked the woman’s sincere smile. Maybe having dinner with them would be a good thing. She might find out something about the Mitchell family that way.

“Thank you.”

As they made their way toward the door, Mrs. Reeves introduced Constance to several other women. They each welcomed her to both the church and the town. Maybe Constance would be able to make a few friends while she continued her quest.

It wasn’t unusual for Jackson and Mary to invite Hans to eat with them, so he gladly accepted Jackson’s invitation. As a single man, he always welcomed a home-cooked meal.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Hans squinted against the bright sunlight. “I finished fixing that kettle for Mary. I’ll go fetch it. I know how much she uses it.”

While he strode toward his shop, his thoughts returned to the Miller woman. There was some mystery about her, some secret she kept hidden. Why did she invade his thoughts so much? He didn’t need to get involved with anyone who wasn’t completely honest, did he?

He stepped up on the porch to the parsonage, and Jackson opened the door before he could put the kettle down and knock. “I watched for you. I know that thing is pretty heavy.”

When Hans walked through the doorway, he almost dropped what he was carrying. The woman who had filled his thoughts and dreams so much this week sat in a kitchen chair talking with Mary.

“Come on in, Hans,” Mary called from the kitchen. “I’ve invited Miss Miller to share our meal.”

Miss?
Mary called her
Miss
. Hans could only hope she was right. That is, if he really were interested in the woman.

When Mary started to introduce Constance to the blacksmith, Constance stopped her. “We’ve met. Mr. Van de Kieft has protected me from harm more than once.”

She should have known that the other woman wouldn’t let the subject drop. After they were seated, Mary wanted to know all about it. While they enjoyed the wonderful food, Constance and Hans had to recount both instances. It was interesting to hear the experiences from his perspective. By the time they were through with the stories, all four of them were laughing, and the atmosphere felt much more relaxed.

Constance offered to help Mary wash the dishes, but the other woman insisted that they leave them soaking in the dishpan. “I can wash dishes anytime. I want the chance for us to sit down and really get to know one another.”

Mary brought cups of strong coffee into the parlor on a tray that also contained ginger cookies.

“Thanks, Mary.” Hans took a couple of the large sweets in one hand. “These are my favorites.”

“That’s why I made them yesterday.”

Constance wondered why the large man had such a strange expression on his face, as if he was surprised by what the pastor’s wife said.

“But Jackson just invited me after the service.” Hans sank his teeth into the cookie and sighed around it.

“Oh, I know, but we talked about it yesterday.” Mary smiled at her husband, and Constance felt a sudden longing for someone to love like that. “But we didn’t know that Miss Miller would be attending church this morning. Wasn’t that a pleasant surprise?”

For some reason, Constance got the feeling that they weren’t surprised at all. Now why did she feel that way?

Mary sat demurely on the sofa beside her husband. “So where exactly did you come from?”

Constance was just taking a sip of the hot beverage, and the abruptness of the question almost made her choke. Mary certainly got right to the point. “I’ve lived in the Ozark Mountains of northern Arkansas all my life.”

Hans set his cup down on the coffee table and leaned back in his chair. “So what made you leave Arkansas?” His eyes narrowed, and she got the feeling that her answer was very important to him.

She glanced around the room, then out the front window. “This is a pretty area.”

Constance turned back and took a nibble of her cookie. Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that her answer didn’t satisfy him. Constance was beginning to like this man, but she wasn’t sure she wanted him asking too many personal questions.

Mary reached over and patted Constance’s hand. “Wasn’t it rather dangerous to travel alone? Didn’t you have anyone to come with you?”

Tears sprang into Constance’s eyes, and she tried to blink them back. “My mother has been gone for several years, and I…lost my father recently.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mary’s expression contained distress. “I didn’t mean to bring up sad memories.”

Constance swallowed a couple of times, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. “It’s part of life that you have to get used to.”

Finally, Jackson joined the conversation. “That doesn’t make it any less sad for the person who experiences the loss. Can I pray for you?”

When Constance nodded, they all bowed their heads. Jackson’s prayer contained words of comfort that helped her move beyond the pain of the moment. When he finished, they sat for a few silent minutes. She had about decided that it was time for her to leave, but Hans cleared his throat.

“So why did you come to Browning City?”

What could she say without giving too much information? Constance groped in her mind for some way to answer truthfully. She stood and walked over to peer out between the curtains. Trying to find out something about the Mitchells by listening unobtrusively hadn’t worked. Maybe she could trust her secret to these people…or at least part of it.