Texas Angel, 2-in-1 (36 page)

She turned to chapter seven of the book of John and began reading. Much of it was confusing, but the gist she caught was that there was much disputing among the people about who Jesus was. Some people, especially the leaders, were angry at Him and wanted to kill Him. She remembered all this from the previous books and knew, of course, that they eventually did kill Him. She marveled at why they would want to harm Him. Couldn’t they see what kind of man He was, so good and decent? Even if they could not see that He was God, surely they should have known He meant only good for them.

She started the eighth chapter and was immediately taken up in the account of a woman caught in adultery. She’d already noticed how Christ freely associated with people whom the general society looked down upon—beggars, tax collectors, lepers, even harlots. Now the leaders who were angry at Christ were trying to use one of these people to trick Him. The leaders wanted to stone the adulteress as their law commanded. They wanted Jesus to break the law by freeing her.

Elise’s heart raced, clearly picturing the scene. The accusers with stones in hands and leering, ugly looks on their faces. The woman, alone, trembling, knowing death was but minutes away. Jesus, caught in the middle.

Elise laughed with glee when she read Christ’s answer.
He that is
without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her
.

But it was what she read next that truly moved her.
Woman, where are
those thine accusers? Hath no man condemned thee? She said, No man, Lord.
And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more
.

Having felt so recently the powerful presence of God’s love herself, Elise knew what the woman must have felt. She knew what it was like to feel so dirty and shamed she could hardly look at herself. Then here, to have someone look past all that, to see it, to see the filth—and to love you anyway!

Elise looked at the list she had been making of favorite passages. As soon as she found a pen, she would add this to it. In the meantime, she flipped back to others she had written down. It was a long list! But touching on only a handful, she saw one thing clearly stood out: God’s love. She also had written a list of questions, and there were many of these as well, for a lot of what she read was confusing. Yet the reality of God’s love rang through like the most pristine chime imaginable. Yes, men like Benjamin could study the Bible their whole lives, write books, and preach countless sermons. They could debate theology forever, but all that would never change the precious truth of
love
. Nor could years of study make it any more comprehensible. It was simple enough for a child to grasp, or a fallen dove such as she. Elise understood that the love of God was at the core of this thing called Christianity. All else was . . . well, she didn’t know what it was. It was perhaps like the difference between a fabulous plantation manor and this tiny cabin. The cabin provided all one needed. The rest could come or go as long as one had the solid little room for basic warmth and protection.

Jesus could have showered the woman with all the reasons why what she had done was wrong. He certainly could have pointed out all the legal ramifications. But no, He had said simply, “Neither do I condemn thee. . . .”

When He added “Go and sin no more,” Elise was certain the woman did just that, not because she had learned all the reasons why she was a sinner, but rather because this man Jesus loved her, and she could do no less.

Oddly, Elise thought of Benjamin. Yet the passage was obviously intended for her, an adulterer and a fornicator. How could it relate to a man like Benjamin who had been a religious man all his life, a spiritual leader who understood the Bible perfectly and no doubt had much of it memorized?

That was it, of course! In all the depths of Benjamin’s study, and in the course of living according to Christian rules, had he perhaps forgotten the simplicity of love? Could that be why he was having trouble believing now? Was it possible that all he needed was to be reminded of these things? An excitement welled up in Elise. She reread the passage, and it confirmed to her that what she had come to know about God was indeed true. And she was certain Benjamin had not yet discovered it.

Her heart fairly galloping over this discovery, she rose from the rocker.

“Isabel, would you mind Hannah while I talk to your father?” She set Hannah on the bed as Isabel came over with her doll. The two immediately engaged in a game of some sort as Elise left the cabin.

Benjamin was in the field east of the cabin trying to plant corn. He’d borrowed a plow from John Hunter, hitched it to one of the horses, and was trying to make a furrow—not too successfully. The horse was not a plow horse and apparently was intent on making that clear to its inexperienced master, the results of which produced furrows that were rather askew. Micah walked alongside the horse, his hand firmly gripping the bridle.

Elise had paused before leaving the cabin to fill a pail with jerked venison and biscuits from breakfast along with a jug of fresh water. She was glad she had done so because Benjamin looked exhausted. She paused a moment to watch his progress. It was a fine day in early May with a clear blue sky overhead. The sun was unusually warm, evidenced by the streams of sweat Elise could see pouring off Benjamin’s head, unimpeded by his wide-brimmed hat. His shirt was soaked through, clinging to his chest and shoulders.

Riding a circuit was a physically demanding job, and Benjamin had always given the impression of being quite fit. But he was pushing himself harder than ever trying to plant the field with corn. It was a couple of acres in size and had already been cleared by former residents, but the field had lain fallow for some time and was now covered with weeds and brush. Benjamin and Micah had been plowing for two days, and Benjamin had hoped to finish today, but there was still some ways to go.

Elise hesitated to interrupt the work. Telling of her discoveries could have waited until evening, but her enthusiasm had overtaken good sense.

By chance Benjamin paused in his work, removed his hat, and wiped a sleeve across his damp brow. In the process, he detected Elise’s presence. He raised an arm and waved.

“Is everything all right?” he called.

“Everything’s fine.” She hadn’t thought that her appearance might raise an alarm. “I thought you might like some refreshment.” She held up the pail as if in confirmation.

Signaling for Micah to take the plow handles, Benjamin hiked across the clotted earth to where she stood at the edge of the field.

“You are making good progress,” she said.

“John Hunter expected his plow back yesterday.” He seemed discouraged. “The earth was much harder packed than I thought. I am determined to get this done today, though.”

“Then forgive me for interrupting. I’ll leave the pail and get back to the house.”

“It was very kind of you to come.”

“You’ve been working so hard.” Shielding her eyes from the sun with a hand, she gazed out over the field. “I’ve never realized what an accomplishment it is to cultivate a raw piece of land.”

He chuckled dryly. “At least it is for an inept ex-preacher. I’ve never even so much as planted a garden.”

“Ex-preacher?” She couldn’t help picking up on the phrase and being concerned. He’d never stated it in such final terms before.

“For the time being.”

“You’ve decided to be a farmer, then?” She studied him momentarily with the same scrutiny she had given the field. In a way, he was like that field—hard and raw, in need of a tender but firm hand to work out the rough places. She doubted she could be that hand, yet she felt compelled to try because like the field, he was full of potential. His yield would be richer than the sweet corn, perhaps only to his family, perhaps still to the settlers who so needed a spiritual leader. How sad it would be if he let the earth of his life lie fallow. Yet he was doing just that.

“If I don’t fail at that, too,” he answered as if to mock her very thoughts.

Sighing, she said nothing in response.

“I best get back to work.” He took the pail from her hand. “First, I wouldn’t mind some of that water.” Uncorking the jug, he lifted it to his lips and took a long drink. He then set jug and pail on the ground. He headed back toward the field, paused, and called over his shoulder, “Thank you, Elise.”

She watched a few minutes longer. Benjamin sent Micah to the jug, and as the boy had a drink, Elise gave him a few words of encouragement before he, too, returned to the plow. Elise headed back to the cabin, uncertain what to do. She had been so enthusiastic about sharing her Bible reading with Benjamin, yet she could not see how her words would do any good. He had to find his own way. He’d be as wary as any man to be preached at, especially by a woman who was a complete novice in such matters. Perhaps if she found a way to approach him with a question.

He returned for supper appearing more discouraged than ever. The horse had gone lame, and since he feared risking the other horse, the rest of the work would have to be done by hand until he could get into Cooksburg and have Albert Petty, who was also a blacksmith, repair the animal’s shoe.

Elise had worked hard to make a good meal. Nell Hunter had shown her how to make johnnycakes, a staple here where corn was the main food. It was amazing what a little salt and water added to cornmeal could do. The pot of soup to go with the johnnycakes was culled from a recipe in one of Rebekah’s books. It had called for beef, but Elise used venison since that was all she had. It also called for a cut-up lemon for flavor but, since lemons in Texas were as rare as paved roads, she substituted a variety of spices she found in Rebekah’s larder—summer savory, sweet marjoram, and a dash of pepper. Several onions completed the soup and made it fill the cabin with a delightful aroma.

Elise tried not to be disappointed when Benjamin hardly noticed her culinary success and merely picked at his meal. Micah, at least, had three bowls of soup and several johnnycakes.

Shortly after supper, the process of bedtime preparation for the children began. They had by now fallen into a nice routine, but since work in the field had begun, Elise insisted that Benjamin and Micah didn’t need to help to the extent they had. Elise really managed quite well on her own with some help from Isabel. However, tonight Oliver was a little fussy and needed more attention than usual. But in just over an hour, the older children were in bed, and Oliver was settling down as Elise rocked him in the rocking chair.

Benjamin rose to take his leave. Sometimes after the children were in bed he might tarry a few minutes to converse with Elise, usually about problems with the children or plans for the next day. But most often he left the cabin immediately after the children were down. They had little other opportunity to talk during the day, so Elise knew if she was going to talk to him about what she had read, she must grasp the moment or see it lost to another day.

“Benjamin,” she said as he reached for his coat on the hook by the door, “might you spare a moment? I . . . wanted to ask you something.”

He turned back into the room and found a seat on the bench near the rocker. “What is it?” There was some concern in his tone.

“It’s nothing ominous,” she said awkwardly. “It is only that I have been reading the New Testament again, and I have a question.”

“Elise, I don’t feel in much of a position to be giving spiritual or theo.logical guidance.” He arched an eyebrow, as if expecting an argument.

“Oh . . . well, in that case . . .” she let her words trail away, hoping she appeared sufficiently disheartened.

“If it’s a simple question,” he relented, “I suppose I could see what I can offer.”

She smiled, trying not to look too triumphant. “I’m sure it’s simple. I’m so ignorant of these things that all my questions are simple. I was wondering about the story of the woman caught in adultery.”

He nodded with a peculiar look in his eye as if to say, “Ah yes, she would pick up on that bit.”

With a shrug she continued. “I thought it odd that Jesus, an upright, law-abiding man, not to mention His being God and all, would let the woman off so easily. Hadn’t she committed a crime?”

“Christ is simply making the point that God is the judge. The book of James says, ‘There is one lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy: who art thou that judgest another?’ ” He paused, his brow arched. “That’s what it says.” His tone was almost apologetic. “Not that we should let all criminals free. But the Scriptures further state, ‘For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God; Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus: Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God.’ ”

Elise marveled at how the words rolled as easily from Benjamin’s lips as the water flowed down the little creek by the cabin.

Benjamin looked a bit bemused himself. Rubbing his chin, he added dryly, “I can quote more Scriptures if you like.”

“You know a great deal.”

“Yes, I do,” he answered simply, ironically.

“It still seems rather amazing to me”—Elise steered the conversation back to the Scripture—“that after the terrible thing she did, Jesus only said, ‘Neither do I condemn thee.’ I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, knowing that I have God’s forgiveness for my own mistakes. But still, it seems so easy.”

“I’ve often thought so, too.” Pausing, Benjamin stretched out his hands, studying his fingers that now bore blisters from plowing. His mouth hardened as he murmured, “ ‘The wages of sin is death.’ ”

“But we are not all dead, are we?” she asked quietly. “I think Jesus saw inside the woman’s heart, as He saw inside my heart. He sees inside your heart, too, Benjamin—” She stopped as she realized her slip and that her little deception was now revealed.

“So all you had was an innocent question, eh?” Except for a slight quirk of the corner of his mouth, she could not tell if he was amused, angry, or indifferent.

She gave a sheepish shrug.