Hope Rekindled (30 page)

Deborah knew her stepfather was probably in pain, but he refused to let on. It wasn’t the Dutch way to make a fuss.

“It’s the Sabbath,” G.W. reminded them. “There’s time enough to work tomorrow.”

“But we won’t be able to get the logs down to the mill unless the tracks are clear,” Mother reminded him.

G.W. nodded. “True enough, but I reckon God will work all of this to His good. Ain’t never seen Him fail us yet.”

But Deborah knew he didn’t feel as convinced as his words indicated. Maybe God didn’t want them to supply Stuart Albright with logs. Maybe God didn’t want Perkinsville to revive. Who could say for sure?

Pastor Shattuck rolled up his sleeves. “I believe we can honor God even in our labor. Miz Euphanel, why don’t you start us in some hymns of praise?”

Jael had been more than a little frustrated that wreckage on the road kept them from reaching Deborah’s house. She and her father had turned back only a mile or so down the road. Stuart looked pleased at their return. He said finally something was going his way.

On Monday morning, Jael tried again. This time she donned her riding habit. Without sitting down to breakfast, she announced to her father and husband her intention to ride out to the Vandermark place.

“I’ll take the black gelding from the stable. He’ll be able to jump anything too big to ride around.”

“You shouldn’t go alone,” her father said, getting to his feet. “Stuart, why don’t we both accompany her. Today is, after all, your deadline for the logs. It would do you well to see if that quota has been met.”

Jael frowned. She wasn’t at all sure why her father had said such a thing. It would have been far better to say nothing and hope that Stuart would just let the matter go. Of course, now he wouldn’t.

“I suppose you are right,” Stuart said.

Jael looked at her husband and then to her father. “I’ll let the stableman know to saddle three horses.”

She wasn’t surprised to see most of the townsfolk out working to clear the yards and streets. The wind had done some damage, but upon further inspection in the light of morning, Jael could see that the town hadn’t suffered too greatly.

The horses were saddled and ready to go by the time her father and husband finally made their way to the stable. Jael sat impatiently atop her mount. She saw that her husband held something in his hand.

“What have you there?” she asked.

Stuart gave her a smug smile. “The Vandermark contract.” He folded it and put it in his pocket. “I intend to see that they live up to every word.”

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to head out to the Vandermarks’ after all. Stuart would show no mercy whatsoever if things were bad. That could only lead to problems. But she had been the one to insist on the journey; it would only cause him more reason to be ruthless should she suggest they forgo the venture.

The road was far from easy to manage. From time to time large branches blocked the main part of the path, forcing her father and Stuart to get down and move the ones they couldn’t jump. It took nearly an hour to cover what should have taken less than half that time.

“The house is still standing!” Jael announced, urging her horse past her father and Stuart. She thought for a moment the place was deserted, but then heard the sound of mules, somewhere beyond the house.

She maneuvered her horse toward the railroad tracks, where she found the entire Vandermark family working to uncover the tracks. Deborah pulled a long, skinny branch to one side and let it drop. Straightening, she noticed Jael and waved.

“Oh, you are all right!” Jael declared, quickly jumping from the gelding’s back. “I was so worried.” She dropped the reins and ran to embrace her friend.

“We worried about you, as well. How are things in town?” Deborah asked.

“Nothing quite this bad.” Jael looked at the path the twister had eaten. “Oh, it must have been quite frightful.”

“It was,” Deborah admitted. “I suppose Stuart has come to see about his logs.”

“Oh, bother,” Jael said. “He surely can’t expect you to provide logs when the tracks aren’t even passable.”

“He has a way of expecting a great many things.”

Jael’s father and Stuart came to join them. Deborah turned. “G.W., we’ve got company.”

Every last person, including Pastor Shattuck and Mara, congregated to where Deborah and Jael stood with the two men. Jael knew the questioning looks were all for her husband.

“Mr. Albright, Mr. Longstreet,” Arjan said. He turned and tipped his hat to Jael. “Ma’am.”

“I’m come to find out if my logs will be delivered in time to meet the deadline,” Stuart said in an almost amused fashion. “But I can see for myself that things do not look hopeful for that.”

“No, I s’pose not,” Arjan said. “We made a trip up to the camp, and truth is . . . the storm destroyed most of the waiting logs up at the camp. At least it disbursed them. I imagine your logs are all over Angelina County.”

“Well, that’s a pity. It would seem you have broken our agreement.”

“Now, just a minute,” Jael’s father said. “Do you mean to tell me that you are going to hold the Vandermarks to every point of the contract?”

Stuart smiled and gave Jael a smug look of satisfaction. “I do.”

Her father then turned to Mr. Vandermark. Jael saw Mrs. Vandermark grasp her husband’s hand in support. Deborah went to stand beside her mother, and Jael felt tears come to her own eyes at the sight of them offering each other comfort.

“You cannot do this,” Jael told Stuart. “You are being cruel in their time of need.”

He said nothing, and Jael’s father continued. “Mr. Vandermark, has it been your intention to honor the contract in full?”

“It has.”

The simple statement seemed to boom across the short span of space. Jael was surprised to see her father smile. “Mrs. Kelleher, I wonder if you would be so kind as to read the last paragraph of the contract.”

Deborah frowned but stepped away from her mother. “I’ll have to go retrieve it from the office.”

“Oh, don’t bother,” Jael’s father said. “I believe my son-in-law brought his copy along.”

Stuart pulled the folded papers from his pocket and handed them to the older man. “I did, indeed. I wanted to make certain that you would not attempt to dupe me with a different contract.”

“Of all the low-down—” G.W. was silenced as his stepfather put his hand out to hold him back.

“We are men of honor,” Mr. Vandermark declared.

“I’m quite glad to hear you say that,” Jael’s father said. He handed the contract to Deborah. “Please, read it aloud for us—just the last paragraph.”

Deborah seemed none too happy to do so, but nodded. “ ‘The terms of this contract are to be strictly met and fulfilled until the termination date given. However, the contract will be set aside should any act of God cause either party to forfeit their responsibilities to the other.’ ” She looked up and smiled. Turning back to her mother and stepfather, she repeated one phrase. “Any act of God.”

“Well, there’s no denying the destruction of our product was at the hands of the storm, which I believe would be deemed an act of God,” Jael’s father said, turning back to his son-in-law. “Just as you claimed the fire that burned the mill to be such an act. As I recall, the judge allowed you to set aside the contract terms until the insurance company could assess and determine the cause.”

“I . . . that isn’t . . .” Stuart narrowed his eyes. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Oh, but it does,” Mr. Longstreet countered. “Read the final line, Mrs. Kelleher.”

Deborah looked back to the contract. “ ‘Should said “act of God” interfere with the continuation of the agreed upon terms, such terms will be open for renegotiation and new dates of delivery and quotas set.’ ”

“But you couldn’t possibly have met the terms to begin with,” Stuart declared. “It would have been impossible for you to supply me with what you owed my mill.”

“I hardly believe that is the issue now,” Jael’s father said, taking the contract back from Deborah. “The fact of the matter is, these good people did attempt to deliver the intended product. The ongoing rains slowed them, and a tornado made it completely impossible. I would say that the terms make it clear. The contract is open for renegotiation.”

The Vandermark family and workers broke into cheers. G.W. hugged Lizzie with such enthusiasm that Jael couldn’t help but laugh and clap her hands. She met Deborah’s smiling face. Apparently prayer did work. So many times of late, God had helped her in times of trouble. Jael’s faith had grown in each situation.

Stepping forward, Jael took the contract from her father’s hands. “I suggest that this contract be completely dissolved.” She tore the papers in two. “That way you can sell whatever you like elsewhere.”

“You can’t do that,” Stuart protested. “My lawyers will see to it that you honor the terms. It changes nothing.”

She smiled and handed him the pieces. “Oh, but it does . . .
Husband
. It does.” Stuart clearly noted her emphasis. He looked at her for a moment, then drew a deep breath and nodded.

He turned to look at his father-in-law and then Arjan. “Very well. Let us start anew.”

Jael smiled. “I think that would benefit everyone.”

September 1887

S
ummer’s end brought many changes. Deborah and Christopher moved back to the doctor’s house in town and received provisions to reestablish the infirmary. This was thanks to Jael’s father, who had forced his son-in-law to sell his shares of the mill town. Together with Zed Perkins, who was back at the helm, Mr. Longstreet promised to make Perkinsville even better than before. To honor this pledge, the people voted him mayor.

“He’s never been happier,” Jael told Deborah.

“You seem quite happy yourself.”

“I am, Deborah. I truly am happy.”

Deborah knew the reason for this. Jael had been quite pleased when Stuart announced that his father needed him back East. Deborah had been there when Jael had told him firmly that she would stay in Perkinsville. Stuart hadn’t been surprised, but he did seem concerned. Jael promised him that she would remain his faithful wife. She would write to him, so his father would see that they remained wed. Deborah argued that he didn’t deserve her generosity, but Jael told her she desired to forgive Stuart the past and move forward. Her words humbled Deborah—Lizzie too.

“Who knows,” Jael had told Deborah. “If God is as powerful as you say He is, then He can bring love even to our hard hearts.”

Many of the families returned to Perkinsville. Margaret Foster came back with one of her sons and his wife. Their young children quickly befriended the Kelleher siblings. Little by little, many of the other regulars came home, as well. Zed reinstated each crew member with promises of a bigger and better mill. He split the workers between rebuilding the black town and getting the mill up and running. The progress lifted everyone’s spirits.

Perhaps the greatest joy, however, had been the well-attended wedding of Robrecht Vandermark to Miss Mara Shattuck. Only an hour earlier, Deborah had stood at the depot with her family, waving good-bye to the couple as they caught the train to Houston. Rob had agreed to pastor a church in the area, and Mara had great plans for the Sunday school. Even Pastor Shattuck was delighted with the couple’s plans, although Mara was worried he would grow lonely.

“I do fear he won’t eat properly,” she told Deborah as they bid each other farewell. “You will look in on him, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Deborah assured her. “And you can bet that my mother will, as well. She isn’t about to see anyone go hungry.”

But with everything falling back into a normal routine, Deborah couldn’t help but wonder if that might allow for her and Christopher to have a little time to themselves.

“Haven’t you finished in here yet?” Christopher teased.

“I’m daydreaming,” Deborah said, glancing over her shoulder. “I often do so when I’m cleaning the examination room.”

“And what are you dreaming about?”

She halted her work. “You do realize that we’ve never had a proper wedding trip? I thought that with Miz Foster back in town, perhaps we could get away for a week or two. She would surely be willing to treat folks while we were away. Wouldn’t it be great fun to go to Galveston?”

“Goodness, woman, you think I’m made of money?”

Deborah put her hands on her hips. “I happen to know that my family paid you quite well for your service before and after the storm. And they paid me for my work. If you would check the new bank at the commissary, you would find that we have quite a nice bit of savings.”

He laughed. “And it’s burning a hole in your pocket—is that it?”

“Not exactly, but I think it would be awfully nice to be alone with you.” She put down the cleaning cloth and walked toward him with a provocative smile. Reaching up, she trailed her fingers against his cheek and down to where a hint of chest hair peeked out from his unbuttoned shirt.

“Just imagine it. We could stay at the Tremont Hotel. I’ve heard it’s absolutely beautiful since they rebuilt it. We could have a lovely suite and order room service.” She stretched on tiptoes to brush his lips with a kiss. “Just imagine—an entire week alone.”

He took hold of her. “Go on.”

“Of course, there’s also something else that might hold your interest.”

Nuzzling her ear with kisses, Christopher shook his head ever so slightly. “That isn’t possible.”

“Oh, but I think it could be.” She pulled away and smiled. “They are building a new hospital, and rumor has it that a new medical college will be established. The paper noted that several lectures were going to be given next week. One is on the repair of compound fractures.”

He laughed. “You don’t want to get away with me—you just want to attend lectures on medicine.”

Deborah feigned shock. “How could you say such a thing? You know perfectly well that I am the kind of gal who wants it all. Why couldn’t we have both? After all, lectures only last an hour or two at the most. We needn’t leave our room for much longer than that.”

“You are positively scandalous, my dear.” He drew her back into his arms. “And that’s what I love most about you. You are a woman without boundaries. No one tells you no and gets away with it.”

She shrugged and smiled. “At least not for long.”

“Docs! Come quick!” someone yelled from outside.

They went quickly to the door. “What’s wrong?” Christopher asked, pushing open the screen door.

“There’s been an accident at the mill. Otis done cut himself up on that new-fangled saw,” one of the young Foster kids declared.

“I’ll get the bag and bandages,” Deborah told her husband. “You go on ahead.”

He nodded and shot out the door. Deborah hurried to grab what they would need. This was indeed the life for her—the life she loved. Working alongside her husband to help others. There was no way of knowing what the future held, but her hope had been rekindled and her heart overflowed with joy. And that—for now—was entirely enough.