Hearts Aglow (34 page)
“Have you heard . . . has there been word . . . ” She stammered and looked to the older man for some kind of hope. “I wondered if there was word on Indianola?”
He shook his head. “Ain’t heard a thing. I reckon once things settle down, the wires will get back in place and then we’ll hear it all.’Course, the newspaper folks down Houston and Galveston way will probably be gettin’ any information they can, but it will most likely be weeks before we know for sure what’s happened.”
She couldn’t help but detect the hopelessness in his words. Deborah fought back tears. “Thank you, Mr. Parsons.” She started to leave, but remembered her brother. “I need to send a wire to my brother Rob.”
“He’s in Houston, ain’t he? Gone off to be a preacher.” The old man picked up his pencil. “We’ll give her a go and see if it goes through. Never can tell.”
Deborah arranged for Mr. Parsons to send a wire to Rob inquiring if he was all right and if he needed anything. The old man also promised to try and get a message through to Christopher, but he didn’t hold out much hope. Deborah felt pretty deprived of it herself. Surely if Christopher were alive and well, he would have let her know. Wouldn’t he? Of course, as Mr. Parsons told her, lines were down and the mail wasn’t even getting through. How could he possibly hope to send word?
She rejoined her mother and was surprised to find a large gathering of black women crossing the tracks to join them.
Mother looked up to see them and smiled. Miriam, the wife of a one-time Vandermark Logging employee, came forward and Mother reached out to greet her. She took hold of her hand and squeezed it briefly. “It’s good to see you.”
“We comed to pray. Our men are over there fightin’, too.”
Deborah saw her mother nod and turn to Mrs. Perkins. “It seems,” Mother said, “that the storm has done what we couldn’t. Our men are all working together – side by side – no one caring what the color of the other man’s skin might be.”
Mrs. Perkins looked at Miriam and gave a weak smile. “You are very welcome to pray with us.”
Hours later, the fire was finally out and the destruction evident. The mill was nearly consumed. Patches here and there were unharmed – stacks of lumber watered down enough that the sparks didn’t catch it on fire. But little was untouched.
The men staggered back, blackened from head to toe with soot and ash. Their eyes were red-rimmed and watery from the acrid smoke, and most were gasping and coughing. Mr. Perkins and his sons came to join them. The Perkins boys looked for their wives in the gathering and quickly found them, while the elder Mr. Perkins pushed blackened red hair back from his face and fixed his gaze on Mrs. Perkins. They said nothing, but Deborah could see the unspoken relief between them.
“Is there anything we can do, Zed?” Mother asked.
He shook his head. “We kept it from burnin’ down the town, at least. Saved some of the equipment, but not much. Some was just too big to get moved in time.”
“What will we do?” Mrs. Perkins asked.
“I don’t guess I have an answer for that just now,” Mr. Perkins replied. “If you don’t mind, I just wanna bath.”
She put her arm around his waist and nodded. “Come on. I’ll see that you have what you need.”
In similar fashion, other men appeared and rejoined their families. Very little was said as the couples moved off and headed home. Deborah watched as the crowd thinned until only she and Mother remained.
“This is surely a great tragedy,” Mother said.
“It’s only the start,” Deborah replied. “Mr. Parsons said there are rumors of destruction all along the coast – some towns are underwater. He tried to send a wire to Victoria, but the lines are down. Galveston and Houston have both suffered damage.”
“Houston?” her mother asked, her tone taking on an anxious edge.
Deborah squeezed her hands. “I sent a wire to Rob asking if he was all right and whether he needed anything. The wire went through, so hopefully we’ll get a reply.”
Mother’s eyes filled with tears as she looked about. “Oh, this is such a nightmare. How could anything good come from it?”
Staring past her mother to the still smoldering remains of the mill, she shook her head. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”
That night the Vandermarks gathered around the dining room table and prayed. Word had come during the day that the turpentine harvesting area had been greatly damaged. Numerous trees had fallen in the wind, and Arjan figured they would be out restoring the area for some time. He would need for the women to keep an ample supply of food readied for them.
G.W. had seen to cleaning up the debris in the immediate yard, while Sissy and Lizzie had tried to right the damage to the garden. Everything had taken such a beating, it was unclear as to whether any of the vegetables would revive.
“We thank you Lord that we are alive and safe – that no loss of life was had in the fire,” Mother prayed. “Guide us now and teach us what to do.”
When she said nothing more, G.W. began to speak. “Father, we are troubled by what’s happened. Ain’t hardly words to explain.”
He went on to ask God’s mercy, but Deborah couldn’t focus on his prayer. Instead she silently pleaded with God to bring her word from Christopher, to bring him home safely. She knew it was a selfish prayer, given all of the people who had been devastated by the storm. Word had come that the storm hadn’t played out until it’d nearly reached the northern counties. It would, no doubt, go down in history as the worst Texas had seen.
Even that solemn thought didn’t sway Deborah from her desperate longing to know of Christopher’s safety. The entire state could lie in shambles, and she would still only have thought of the man she loved. And she did love him – loved him more than life itself. Nothing had made it more evident to her than the last twenty-four hours.
God, my heart is overwhelmed
, she prayed.
I want so much to know
that Christopher is alive and well. Rob, too, Father
, she added, remembering her brother.
Please, Lord, don’t leave us without word. I can’t
bear the thought that I might never know. I can’t bear that Christopher
might be hurt and need me.
She wiped away tears that spilled from her closed eyes. It was all she could do to keep from crying aloud. Lizzie seemed to understand her misery and reached over to squeeze her hand. Her touch was like a lifeline to Deborah – the only thread of support she could feel at the moment. Mother was worried about the men, about Rob. The others had, no doubt, forgotten all about Christopher.
Lizzie leaned close and whispered, “I’ve prayed for him, too, Deborah. God will surely hear our prayers.”
She opened her eyes and met Lizzie’s gaze. Nodding, Deborah tried to find strength in her sister-in-law’s statement. Only God could intervene on Christopher’s behalf.
Weeks slipped by without much news. September brought relief to the heat, but not to Deborah’s heart. She had tried unsuccessfully to get a wire to Christopher, and the rumors were more and more troublesome in regard to the damage done by the hurricane. Houston papers suggested that much of the coast between Galveston and Corpus Christi had been devastated by high winds and tidal waves. She couldn’t bear the thought that Christopher might never have had a chance to escape. He wouldn’t have left his brother, and since Calvin was jailed, she doubted he could have gotten away from the storm, either. Would they have moved prisoners inland? Had there been any warning? The questions tormented her.
She found no comfort in her routine chores. While helping her mother gather plums, Deborah prayed and prayed, but peace seemed far out of reach. How could there be no word? Surely Christopher would have known her worry, and even if he didn’t plan to return to her, he would have let her know of his safety. Wouldn’t he?
“I know you’re fretting over the doctor,” Mother said, pouring a basket of plums into a larger crate. “Your worry won’t bring him back.”
“It could be nothing will bring him back.” She didn’t want to believe that, but as the weeks passed, Deborah found hope a fleeting comfort. “But I can’t help believing he’d at least let us know if he was all right. He knows folks here care about him.”
“That’s true enough. Still, he may not yet be able to get word out. If the devastation is as bad as some say, he may have no recourse.”
“He also might be injured,” Deborah said, unable to consider the extent to which this might be true.
“Who could that be?” Mother questioned, putting her hand up to shield her eyes.
Deborah heard the unmistakable sound of a horse approaching and ran to the edge of the road. She prayed it was Christopher but was further disappointed when the rider proved to be Zed Perkins.
“What brings you out our way?” Mother joined Deborah by the road.
Zed dismounted and walked with his horse to where the women stood. “I needed to talk with you and Arjan.”
“He’s still out working the fallen trees. Why don’t you come on up to the house and have a cup a coffee? G.W.’s in the office and he can join us. Oh, we had word from Rob. He’s safe and the damage was minimal in his area.”
He nodded and they started up the road, toward the south side of the house. “That’s mighty good news. I know Miz Greeley’s news wasn’t near as good. Seems Victoria bore a heavy blow from the storm.” He turned and tipped his hat. “Miss Deborah – it’s good to see you. You haven’t been in town of late.”
“Hasn’t been much reason,” she replied. “Margaret Foster made it clear she didn’t want my help with the sick.”
“Have you heard anything from the doc?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I had hoped maybe you had.”
“No, there’s been no word. ’Course, if Victoria was damaged, then Indianola must have been, too. Could be the doc is busy helping the hurt folks there.”
Deborah could only hope that he was doing that, instead of being tended himself. She said nothing more, choosing instead to focus on the ground as they walked. There was nothing there of interest, but she didn’t want her mother or Mr. Perkins to see her face and know how hard this was on her.
“I heard that a good number of people were packing up and leaving Perkinsville,” Mother said. “Sissy was speaking to some friends of hers, and it seems this was the talk going around.”
“Well, I reckon, what with the mill shut down, there are a lot of folks movin’ on to other places. I’m offerin’ what help I can, but there’s very little I can do. All of my money was in the mill and the stores.”
“What about the mill?” Mother asked. “Can it not be rebuilt? A good portion of lumber was saved, as I understand.”
“It was and has now been sold. I’ve ordered some parts to start up small again, but I’m not sure where it’s gonna take us. That’s why I came out here today.”
Mother waited for him to tether his horse before they headed together to the house. Deborah followed after. “I’ll fetch G.W.,” she told her mother and hurried to the office.
She found her brother deep in thought, ledger before him and a stack of papers beside him. “Mr. Perkins is here. He says he needs to speak to us about the business.”
G.W. looked up. “I kind of figured he’d come callin’ soon.” G.W.closed the ledger and got up. The exercises Christopher had given him had done wonders to strengthen his leg. He still walked with a limp, but he was much faster now and had more endurance than even a few months back.
