Refining Fire (14 page)

“It's mine, as well,” Lenore said, pulling a lacy handkerchief from her sleeve. “Oh, Abrianna, I do apologize. You told me how argumentative he could be. I thought perhaps it was just because . . . well . . . because you are outspoken . . . for a woman.”

Abrianna nodded. “That I am, but I assure you that is not where my misgivings regarding that man were borne. He has done nothing but offer false teaching and unsound doctrine, and I believe it is time the deacons and elders are apprised the situation. I hope Kolbein and Wade will approach them. I'm certain that their opinion would hold more weight than ours.”

Lenore dried her eyes and dabbed the cloth to her nose. “He seems to be such a vulgar man. I do not understand all his focus on money.”

“Perhaps he is like that man who stole offerings from the church in Tacoma,” Abrianna said, then immediately regretted it. “I apologize. I am angry and should not make false judgments. If Pastor Walker is doing anything underhanded, it will be realized in time. Until then, my hope is that when his six-month trial period is up, the elders will dismiss him and find someone else to lead our church.”

Kolbein came down the hall just then, and Lenore made her way to him immediately. “Did you ask him to leave?”

“Yes. What a pompous man. I am so sorry I encouraged you to host him here. I've had better behavior out of my sister's theatre friends.” He looked to Abrianna. “Wade is waiting to take you home. I told him I thought it best we conclude the evening.”

“I understand. I would expect no less.” She came to Lenore and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I love you most dearly, Lenore. Please do not give that man another thought.”

“I shan't,” she promised, then paled. “Oh dear, we will have to see him again on Sunday.”

“No we won't,” Kolbein declared. “I do not intend to sit under his teaching anymore. I had found very little positive in my experience of churches until meeting Pastor Klingle, and now I find myself back to the same opinion.”

“But no one leaves the church of their youth.” Lenore shook her head.

“It is not the church of my youth, and that man's attitude leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Oh, Kolbein, do not say you'll never attend church again,” Abrianna said, touching his arm. “Not every man who claims himself to be a preacher is like Pastor Walker. Don't despair and turn away from God.”

“I have no intention of turning away from God, Abrianna. Just from Pastor Walker.”

She shook her head in sorrow. “But if we do not fight for our church, who will?”

Wade held his silence as he walked Abrianna back to her home. The damp evening air further dampened his mood. He wanted to talk over the events of the night, but he had no desire to get Abrianna worked up by speaking about his anger. Thankfully, she seemed to understand.

“I was sorry that the rain last week kept us from our picnic. I would very much have enjoyed missing out on the monthly reception, but I'm also intrigued by Thane and Militine's courtship. Do you suppose anything can come of it? Militine has never had a true interest in marriage. Of course you mustn't say anything, or Aunt Miriam might send her from the school.”

“I won't,” he promised.

“And then there's the matter of the June seventh bridal ball. A patriotic theme will require a great deal of red, white, and blue. Aunt Miriam has taken advantage of the situation to teach the young ladies how to dye cloth without staining their hands in the process.” She paused and shook her head. “It has not been completely successful.”

He halted at the bottom of the steps that led up the long walkway to the house. “I'm sorry for being so out of sorts.”

She shook her head. “You did nothing wrong. God will bless you for your desire to share the Word, and I, for one, am very proud of you.” She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “You are a good and faithful man, Wade, and I'm proud to call you my friend.”

He smiled against his will. Abrianna could always bring a smile from him, whether due to her zany antics or her long-
winded soliloquys. He loved her company. Loved the way she trusted God. Loved her. But where would that love lead him? She seemed completely oblivious to his heart. It hadn't been easy to accept that he had gone from loving her as a zany little sister to a potential mate for life.

“Do you ever think about what you will do with the rest of your life?” The question left his lips before he had time to consider how it might sound.

“Of course. I hope to continue doing whatever it is God has for me to do. I certainly don't want to run the bridal school, as Aunt Miriam wishes.”

“What about marriage and a family of your own?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. I haven't seen that God has called me to that as of yet. Paul did say to the unmarried and widows that it was good for them to abide even as he had.”

He also said it was better to marry than to burn.
Wade pushed the thought aside. “But wouldn't you like to have children of your own, a husband to care for?”

“What a strange conversation for us to have.” She shook her head. “I try not to long for anything. God knows I longed for many years to have my mother and father returned to me. Instead, He taught me the value of love through my aunts. Their kindness and generous charity has been richer for me than many ever know. I am content to trust that if God has a husband and children for me, He will bring them to me.” She drew a deep breath. “Now I must go inside and explain the evening to my aunts. Goodness, but I do not look forward to Sunday.”

“I think I might go to the Lutheran church. What with Pastor Swanson being a close friend of Pastor Klingle, I thought I'd ask him some questions and seek his counsel. I don't intend to just hand over our church to a man like Walker. Even so, I want to approach this in a manner that is biblical.”

“That seems very wise of you, Wade. I will pray for you to
have peace about this.” She kissed his cheek once again. “Good night.”

“Good night, Abrianna.”

He watched her make her way up the stairs and across the lawn. Once she was in the house, he let out a heavy sigh. How was he supposed to share his feelings with her, knowing that she wanted to serve God rather than a husband? Could there ever be room in her life for both? After all, he wanted to serve God, as well.

M
ay had warmed the area with unusually high temperatures and little rain. Unfortunately, both contributed to an increased number of fires. Thane helped gather the long fire hose with his fellow firemen. His arm muscles ached from the process of hand pumping water, and his eyes and throat still burned from the thick smoke. The blaze they'd been called to hours ago was caused by an improperly vented stove. The fire had spread so fast and the water supply was so insufficient that there had been little they could do but watch the house disintegrate before their eyes. Nothing had ever been quite so discouraging. After all, they were there to save, yet they could do nothing.

All he wanted now was a hot bath and a cold drink. After a long day of work to repair the hull of a small fishing boat, the firefight had left him with barely enough energy to make the walk home.

Despite his weariness, Thane's mind churned with burdensome thoughts. For some time they'd nagged and troubled him. Militine had agreed to court him, and while they had enjoyed a couple of rather awkward outings with Miss Poisie, he knew he would have to come clean and tell Militine about his past.
That was, if they were to turn this courtship into something more permanent.

He turned down Front Street, but instead of making his way home, Thane found himself heading for Wade's. He knew his friend would probably be working late. With the four hours of each day taken to help Abrianna feed the poor, Wade generally needed the evening hours to complete his work. The only exception was his Thursday night Bible study.

Seeing the light in the shop and hearing rhythmic hammering, Thane knew a sense of peace. Wade always seemed to have the answer to his problems, and now more than ever, he needed those answers. There was so little in his life that made sense.

He let himself into the shop, and the hammering stopped. “It's just me, Wade. Got a minute?”

His friend popped out from the back. “Sure. I was going to work another hour or two, but you give me a good excuse to stop early.” He wiped his hand against the leather apron and then untied it. “Looks like you've been to a fire.”

“Yeah. It wasn't worth the trouble, though. The house was a total loss. We just didn't have the water we needed to fight the blaze. I know the city council understands the problem, but no one seems inclined to do anything about it.”

“Give 'em time. Eventually one of their houses will catch fire, and then they'll move faster.”

“I hope it doesn't come to that. It's a terrible thing to watch a man's whole life go up in flames. The family got out, but with just the clothes on their backs. There wasn't anything else left to them. We took up a collection amongst ourselves and gave them enough money to get a room for the night. Hopefully, there will be others who lend them some aid.” He shook his head. “But I didn't come here to commiserate over that.”

“Then what?” Wade hung his apron on a peg and motioned to the door of his living quarters. “Coffee?”

“I'd rather have a good old glass of water, the colder the better. I'm parched.”

“Hey, you're in luck. I actually have a little ice. I'll chip some off for you.”

“That would be great.” Thane followed Wade to the back of the shop. He drew the handkerchief from around his neck and wiped his face and hands. Seeing the amount of soot left behind on the cloth made him all the more determined to seek out a bath.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Thane took a seat while Wade went to get an ice pick. “You know I asked Militine if I could court her.”

“Sure. And she said yes.”

“She did, but she also knows that I have a bad past. I haven't told her everything, but I think I need to in order for us to have any chance at a future.”

“So tell her.” Wade went to work on the ice. “I don't see a problem. It's not like you did anything to cause what happened.”

Thane eased back against the wooden chair. “I know, but maybe if I'd said something about my father to the authorities, my mother would still be alive. When I start thinking about all the mistakes I made, well, then I think I'm crazy to consider courting anyone. What if I turn out to be just like my pa? That's what most people figured.”

Wade gathered the ice in a glass and poured in water from a pitcher. He brought the glass to Thane and then returned to put the ice back in the icebox. “I think it's a dangerous thing to try to second-guess what might have been or what might be.” He went to the stove and tapped the coffeepot. “It's cold.” He shrugged and went to work to build a fire. “I meant to keep a closer check on this.”

Thane gulped down the water. The cold liquid eased the burning in this throat and helped to cut the taste of ash. He
set the glass on the table only to have Wade pick it up and refill it with water. Smiling, he put it down in front of Thane again.

“You want something to eat?”

“No. I just need to talk.”

Wade nodded and pulled up a chair. “So talk.”

“Some of the things you've said to me in the past—about God—have really been making me think. I guess I want to ask how you can be so sure that God really is who you think He is.”

Wade shrugged. “Since I was old enough to remember, I heard stories about God and how good He was and how He loved me. I heard folks say it was important to trust Him and to repent from wrongdoing. When I was old enough to read for myself, I could see a lot of me in the lives of some of those people who did wrong. I didn't like it much.

“Pastor Klingle told me that we were all pretty much the same in the eyes of God—sinners who need a Savior. He told me that to God sin was sin and He hated it. Man was sinful and God hated that man chose to go on doing wrong, even though He'd sent Jesus so that we could be reconciled to Him. The older I got, the more I saw evidence of God, not only in the Bible but in real life. When my ma got sick and pa prayed about what to do, he felt certain God was telling him to move away from Seattle, but he didn't know where to go, so he prayed some more. Then one day when he was talking to the doctor the answer came. The doc said Ma needed a drier climate and suggested a place in California. Pa took her there, and she immediately got better.”

“But that was the doctor telling him where to go.”

“But who told the doctor?” Wade smiled. “I think it was all in God's hands, and He directed Pa's steps and the doctor's advice. There's been a lot of times in my life like that.”

Thane couldn't discount Wade's beliefs. After all, it was Wade's confidence in God that drew Thane there in the first
place. “But you've never had to deal with anger like mine. I swear it threatens to eat me alive some days. It makes me afraid that I'll turn out to be a killer like my father.”

“God can deal with that anger, Thane. You don't have to wrestle it by yourself. Anger is a spiritual battle. Only Satan benefits from such rage and violence. It's not what God wants for you. Besides, you aren't your father, and you don't need to fear his actions will be yours. You saw a lot of violence growing up, but you don't have to be violent because of it.”

“How do I explain this to Militine without scaring her away? She had to live with an angry father. I can tell. She said he was strict and harsh. I'm afraid when I tell her about my father and all the things he did—the things I saw and said nothing about—well, I'm afraid she'll worry that I'm just like him, or will be.”

Wade shrugged. “I can't tell you what to do, but I've known you for a long time, Thane. I've seen how you treat folks, even when you are upset by their actions. You aren't a violent man like your pa. Fact is, I don't think you're nearly so angry as you are afraid.”

The words slammed into Thane like a freight train. He
was
afraid. Afraid the past would catch up with him. Afraid of being like his father. Afraid that no one could ever love him.

“I saw my father kill men over stupid games of cards. I saw him kill, and I said nothing when the sheriff came and demanded answers.”

“You were a child, and you didn't have a lot of options. Besides, there's no way of knowing if they would've listened to you. And if they didn't, then you would have had your father to contend with. We both know he wouldn't have let that go unpunished. I can't say that I blame you for saying nothing. You had to protect yourself.”

Thane took a long drink. He turned the glass in his hands, as
if there might be something there to see. “Pastor Klingle once said that even a child was known by his doings. I should have done something more. If I had, my mother might be alive today.”

“Maybe.” Wade released a long sigh. “We all have our regrets, Thane. But even those can be given over to the Lord. God knows I've given Him plenty.”

For several minutes those words echoed in Thane's ears. If only he could believe. If only all those things were true—the Bible, God's love, forgiveness. Was it possible? Could he really find a way to be rid of the pain of the past? Could he be redeemed? “I really want to believe,” Thane finally said. “I'm so tired. I've been carrying this burden since I was thirteen, and it gets heavier with each passing year.”

Wade smiled, his intense eyes meeting Thane's. “Then maybe it's time to give it over to God.”

The last person in the world Abrianna expected to see at their weekly baked goods sale was Priam Welby. Yet there he was, waltzing across the park lawn like a man with a purpose. He spoke with several of the young ladies and purchased a variety of baked goods, but all the while he continued looking around. It was clear he was looking for someone. Abrianna had the dreaded feeling she was that someone. When Welby caught sight of her and his smile broadened, Abrianna knew her assumption was right.

Instead of going to him, however, Abrianna moved away. No matter what he had come to say to her, she was almost certain she didn't need to hear it. She worked her way through the bridal students and then backtracked. With any luck at all, she could hide behind a tree until he gave up looking for her. She positioned herself behind a maple and waited.

“Why, Miss Cunningham, you look quite lovely.”

He'd found her. Abrianna turned and met his amused expression. “Thank you.”

“I have always thought that this particular shade of material looked remarkable in contrast to your lovely hair.” He took off his hat and swept a bow in greeting.

Abrianna glanced down at the peach-colored gown overlaid with a fine white muslin. “To which shade are you referring—the peach or the white?”

He chuckled and replaced his hat. “Both combine to accentuate your beauty.”

“Goodness, but you're full of flowery words today. I know better, however, than to believe you. I learned a long time ago that when men start saying things to tickle your fancy, they're up to something. I suppose you've come with some purpose?”

“Indeed I have. First, to commend you for your work on the docks. I have to admit I thought perhaps it would be folly. After all, those men are generally lacking in manners and are often given to brawling. They have such a fondness for drink that I found it hard to believe they would remain sober long enough to come for a hot meal. I'm glad to have been proven wrong.”

“Some of them do show up a bit into their cups, but we just see to it that they have plenty of hot coffee. I don't understand how a man can drink, anyway, but how he can do it so early in the day is beyond me completely. Aunt Miriam once gave me a hot toddy when I was sick and the taste was abominable.”

He chuckled. “I do not believe liquor was created with the fairer sex in mind. That aside, you can be proud of what you've accomplished, Miss Cunningham.”

His voice was smooth like Aunt Miriam's prized caramel when it was first poured from the pan. And probably just as dangerous. In the case of the caramel just off the fire, it was extremely hot and burned the tongue. Abrianna knew this
firsthand. And with Priam Welby—well, who could be certain of anything where that man was concerned?