Hope Rekindled (8 page)

Christopher had delayed as long as he could before seeking out Jimmy and Tommy. He figured that waiting until Sunday after church should have given them ample time to consider the situation and let the news of the move sink in.

“We need to talk,” he told them as soon as the noon meal was completed.

“I hope you can spare Darcy, Emma, and Jonah,” Mrs. Maynard stated. “I need them to help clear the table and wash up the dishes.”

She had promised this excuse to allow Christopher to speak with Jimmy and Tommy alone. Christopher nodded and smiled. “Thank you for a wonderful meal. I’ll sit with the boys in the front room.”

He motioned them toward the archway that led into the hall. Tommy and Jimmy looked at each other for a moment, then got slowly to their feet. They seemed to realize that the discussion was inevitable.

Christopher waited until they were both seated before continuing. He lowered his voice. “We have to talk about Texas.”

“I don’t wanna go,” Jimmy declared. “I have the highest marks in school and my teacher says I can graduate by next year—maybe sooner.”

“And I have a job. I can’t leave.” Tommy looked at Christopher. “It’s important I stay here.”

He didn’t want to remind them of their age and helplessness and chose another tactic. “What about the little ones? What about Darcy? Have you considered their needs? Would you have me split up the family and take them south while you—the only brothers they truly know—stay here?”

The boys looked at each other, apparently not having considered this possibility. Christopher shook his head. “I know you don’t want to leave, but I need your help. I’m willing to make you both a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Jimmy asked.

“I want you to continue your education. I will see to it that you further your studies. I only ask that you give Texas—and me—a chance. Come with me and stay for a year. If you graduate and are ready for college, I will find a way to send you. And Tommy, I’m certain that my fiancée’s family could help you find a job—maybe something to do with their logging company.”

“Truly?” Tommy asked. “That would be great.” He immediately regretted the outburst and gave Jimmy an apologetic look.

“Nothing has to be forever. I’m just asking that you come and help the little ones to adjust. You two can’t take care of them. They need far more than you can provide. The girls need a woman’s guidance, and Jonah needs mothering, even if you two don’t. Please . . . help me out in this.” He paused as he searched for what to say next.

“Even though I was gone most of the time you were growing up, you were never far from my thoughts. All of you were with me no matter where I went; I held you in my heart and mind. I prayed for you and did . . . well, whatever else I could.” He fell silent, not wanting to boast of how he’d cared for them over the years. “You’ve always been important to me.”

Jimmy looked to the ground as if ashamed. “I know. Mama told me how much you did for us.”

“I believe God made us a family in order to help each other in times like this.” Christopher placed a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “You will grow up soon enough. You’ll move off and marry and have your own little ones. But right now you owe it to them, as well as yourself, to take a little time to grow up.”

Tommy frowned. “We’re not babies.”

“I never said you were,” Christopher replied. “But I promised our mother that I would always be there for you, should anything ever happen to her. I promised her that you would finish school if I had anything to say about it.”

The brothers exchanged a glance and then looked back to Christopher. Jimmy was the one to speak. “And if we don’t want to stay after a year, you’ll help us get somewhere else?”

Christopher breathed a sigh. “I will. You might even be able to go live with one of our sisters and their families, but I know money has always been difficult for them to come by, as well. I’m not even all that sure where to find them these days. Perhaps you know?”

“They haven’t moved,” Jimmy said. He looked to Tommy and gave a brief nod. “But I don’t think we’d be any better off with them. I guess we can go with you. If that’s the only way.”

“For now it is,” Christopher said. “That doesn’t mean God won’t provide another at a different time.”

“God?” Jimmy asked and shook his head. “I got no interest in Him. He’s obviously not interested in us.”

Christopher shook his head. “You know that’s not true. God has always been there for this family.”

Jimmy got to his feet. “Well, He sure has a funny way of showin’ it.”

I
can’t say I’ve ever heard of such an arrangement,” Bertram Wallace said, “but your family and ours go way back. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Wallace’s family had once worked for the Vandermarks before heading out to start their own logging and sawmill company. G.W. knew they had long since cut out their acreage of forest, however, and now only managed the mill.

“We want to keep this fair, but not let anyone else know what’s going on,” G.W. explained. “Mr. Decker, my father-in-law, assures me that if we give you the logs you need and no money changes hands, we’ll be legal.”

Decker leaned forward. “It’s true. The exchange of gifts should not create a problem of legal means; however, it would be better not to throw it in the face of Stuart Albright and his business associates. Their delay in deciding to rebuild the mill or move elsewhere has caused difficulty, but it is their right.”

Wallace nodded. “I don’t have a problem with the plan.” The older man looked at Arjan. “We had plenty of secrets in the good ol’ days, didn’t we?” He gave them a broad smile. “Sounds like this Albright fella wants to see you folks on your face in the dirt. I can’t abide that.”

G.W. had known Mr. Wallace would feel that way. It was the reason he’d put the man at the top of their list to visit. “We thought,” G.W. continued, “that we’d talk to Mr. Kealty and maybe Mr. Danview, too.”

Wallace considered this for a moment. “There’s talk that Kealty is selling, but he might be interested in hearin’ what you have to say. He’s a good man.”

“I’d like to involve as few people as possible,” Arjan added. “We just need enough to keep the mortgage paid and food on the table. We can live and have lived frugal. We know what’s necessary.”

“We all have had a taste of that. Don’t want to go back to it, neither,” Wallace replied. He held out his hand. “Let’s shake on the deal. You write out the information for how you want things done, and I’ll figure up what I can do for you from my end.”

Later that day, as the trio sat down for dinner in one of Lufkin’s nicer cafés, G.W. shook his head and smiled. “I’m thinkin’ this is gonna work out all right.”

“You’ve got a fine family reputation and folks seem to share a good history with you,” his father-in-law replied. “I like the way people pull together out here.”

“You can always join us out here,” G.W. said with a grin. “I know one little gal who would find that prospect awfully rewarding.”

Decker laughed. “I’m sure she would. I was a little worried about her after unloading the news of her being a twin, but she seemed to bear it well.”

G.W. picked up a spoon, intent on the bowl of chicken and dumplings the waitress had just brought. “We spoke for quite a while, and Lizzie said that learning about her twin explained so much. She always felt that there was something or someone missing in her life. She had thought it was just because of the way her ma treated her, but now Lizzie says she can finally understand why she’s always felt that way.”

Brian Decker shook his head slowly. “To think that I could have helped her long ago. I honestly figured Harriet would tell her; I mean, there was certainly no reason to keep it from Lizzie. I suppose the pain of remembering what had happened was something Harriet couldn’t face.”

“Lizzie plans to write to her ma and ask for an explanation. I don’t reckon she’ll reply if it’s too much of a burden to bear,” G.W. said and sampled more of his food. “This is mighty good.”

Spying a familiar face across the room, G.W. waited until the man was nearly even with their table before addressing him. “Bart Perkins. I heard your father mention you were up this way.”

Bart looked at the trio in surprise. “Well, I do say, this is a surprise. What brings you to Lufkin?”

“That sorry excuse for a train we have,” G.W. said, laughing. “What about you? Your father said you were gettin’ involved in politics, of all things.”

Bart hooked his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets and rocked back on his heels. “That I am. I plan to be mayor of this town one day. The times have changed, and with it, we have many problems that need attending.”

G.W. glanced around. “Seems like Lufkin is a well-managed town.”

Bart leaned forward. “So long as we can keep the Negroes in their place. They are causing us all kinds of grief. I don’t know why that pig Lincoln ever figured freeing them was a good thing. They’re shiftless and lazy, uneducated and thieves—every last one of them.”

G.W. frowned. He wasn’t used to hearing friends speak so harshly about the blacks. “I’m sorry to hear you’re having problems.”

“Oh, there were problems in Perkinsville, too, but Father never wanted to deal with it in an appropriate manner. I reminded him on more than one occasion that he was letting the colored folks get away with too much. They weren’t working anywhere near to capacity, but my father never wanted to interfere. That’s as much why we’re out of business today as anything.”

“Well, the fire certainly put an end to production,” Arjan said.

“It was set by the blacks.”

“Do you have any proof?” G.W. asked.

“Well, I’m sure you know my father is certain the fire was set. No one but the blacks had any reason to set it afire.”

G.W. leaned back to fix Bart with a hard look. “How do you figure that? Most of them worked at the mill.”

Bart nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. And everyone knows those people don’t want to give an honest day’s work.”

“That crazy,” G.W. said. “We have both blacks and whites working for us. They are all hard workers who give a good effort. George and David Jackson were two of the best workers we’d ever had before the White Hand of God killed them.”

Bart shrugged. “They must have done something to offend. That’s the trouble with colored folks—they just don’t know enough to stay in their place and keep their mouths shut. We see it here, too, and they probably thought that if the mill was out of commission, they could laze about.”

G.W. tensed and Arjan put his hand on G.W.’s knee.

Arjan looked to Bart. “We just got our food. Why don’t you sit down and eat with us.”

Bart shook his head but didn’t lose the pose. “I’ve already eaten; besides, I have a business meeting to attend to. How long will you gentlemen be in town?”

Arjan answered for them. “I don’t think it’ll be much longer. We got what we came for.”

“Which was what?” Bart asked.

G.W. slammed his empty mug down a little harder than he’d intended. “Horses. We came to pick up the team that we lent out last winter.”

Arjan smiled and nodded. “Jefferson Marshall used them for freighting. He was waiting on a new team to be delivered from El Paso. Now they’ve arrived.”

“I saw them,” Bart said, looking glad to change the subject. “Nice looking pair.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “Well, I must be going. Perhaps we’ll cross paths again later.”

G.W. watched as Perkins hurried from the café. “I wasn’t exactly expecting his attitude.”

Arjan looked to Brian Decker. “He’s the son of Zed Perkins. We should have made introductions. I apologize.”

“No need. The man sounds like he’s the one who should apologize.”

G.W. reconsidered the conversation. “You don’t suppose he had anything to do with the lynchings in Perkinsville, do you?”

“I seriously doubt it, Son. Bart has always been good to go off at the mouth, but his follow-through leaves a lot to be desired. My guess is he’s repeating somebody else’s thoughts.”

“Well, whoever they are, they’re wrong,” G.W. said with a glance at his father-in-law.

Christopher couldn’t sleep, despite the bed’s comfort. He got up and sat staring into the darkness. Now that he’d convinced Tommy and Jimmy of the need to keep the family together, the time had come to press forward.

He thought of Deborah and wondered what her reaction would be to the arrival of a ready-made family. She would no doubt be shocked—maybe even angry—that he’d not consulted her first. But if there had been any other way, he would have taken it.

“I’m not cut out for this,” he whispered. How was he supposed to take over the care of these children?

A sound echoed from somewhere in the house. Crying—of that he was certain. Christopher got to his feet and pulled on his clothes. Without bothering to tuck in the shirt, he made his way to the door and opened it. He listened for a moment. Mrs. Maynard’s room was downstairs, so it had to be one of his siblings.

He crept into the hall and the sound grew louder. It was coming from the left of his room, where Emma, Jonah, and Darcy slept. He eased open the door. The sobs were coming from the bed where he’d tucked in the two youngest earlier that evening.

Christopher couldn’t see very well, but didn’t want to light a lamp. He retraced the position of the room’s furnishings in his mind and carefully made his way to the bed.

“Emma and Jonah, are you all right? Are you ill?”

The crying softened. “I’m a-scared,” Jonah said, sitting up.

Emma sat up, as well, and fought to speak. “I want . . . want . . . Mama. I miss . . . miss her.”

This sent Jonah into a new round of tears. There was nothing to do but offer what comfort he could. Taking the boy in his arms, Christopher sat on the edge of the bed. Emma quickly scooted across and crawled onto his lap beside Jonah.

“I miss her, too,” Christopher said as the children calmed in his arms. He sighed and held them close. “I miss her more than I can say.”

Emma lifted her head. “Can’t she come back?”

If she could, it certainly would simplify things.
But instead of voicing his thought, he shook his head. “Mama is in heaven now. Da too.” At least he hoped his father had trusted his soul to Jesus. After years of anger and bitterness, it was hard to say if his father had put faith in anything other than the bottle.

Christopher didn’t want to dwell on that possibility. “Would you like me to tell you a story?” he asked.

“What kind of story?” Emma asked, sniffing back tears.

“About when I was a little boy.”

“You were little?” Jonah asked.

Giving a chuckle, Christopher rubbed the boy’s back. “I was indeed. I looked very much like you.”

“Tell us a story about Mama,” Emma said.

“Well, you and Jonah get back under the covers, and I will do just that.”

They seemed reluctant to leave his lap. “Will you stay here?” Jonah asked.

“Just until you fall asleep.” Christopher glanced to where Darcy slept soundly on a narrow cot across the room. He couldn’t really see the child, but he heard her deep breathing. “Now, we must be very quiet so we don’t wake up your sister.”

“She won’t wake up,” Emma said. “Mama always said Darcy could sleep even with a freight train coming through the middle of her room.”

Christopher smiled. He could imagine their mother saying such a thing.

He helped the children snuggle back under the blankets and then surprised them, as well as himself, by reclining on the bed beside them. It was a good thing the narrow frame was up against the wall. Otherwise they might have all tumbled off the opposite side.

Emma and Jonah snuggled up close to Christopher. Up until this moment, they had kept him at a distance, preferring Mrs. Maynard. It touched him that they felt safe enough to rest in his arms.