The Promise of Morning (17 page)

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Authors: Ann Shorey

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BOOK: The Promise of Morning
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By the time Matthew arrived to take Ellie home, the women had finished the section they had been working on and scrolled the frame to the next. Molly draped a linen sheet over their work to keep it clean until the following Thursday.

“Supper’s almost ready, Matt. How about you stay and eat before your trip to the farm?”

Ellie glanced up at him, hoping he’d agree. The rich aroma of stewed meat and onions had been making her mouth water all afternoon.

“We’re having cider cake,” Molly added.

Matthew shook his head. “Not today, thanks. I want to get back.” His skin had lost its ruddy color. His lips were bloodless.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie scrutinized her husband. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong.” He stepped outside the house and called the children. “Hurry up. We’re leaving.”

Ellie and Molly exchanged glances. It wasn’t like Matthew to be so abrupt. Whatever happened during his visit with Mr. Wolcott had left him profoundly upset.

They rode home without speaking. Ellie longed to pry information out of him, but knew he’d want to wait until the children couldn’t overhear their conversation. In the back of the wagon, the boys made screeching noises with whistles they’d hollowed out of sticks. About the time she thought she couldn’t stand another piercing squeal, the buggy rolled over the plank bridge and into the farmyard.

Once the wagon stopped, Matthew looked over his shoulder at their sons. “You boys get to the milking.” He turned his head to include Maria in his commands. “You help Mama with supper.”

Ellie frowned at him, irritated by his peremptory behavior. “Supper won’t be much. I was counting on eating with Molly and Karl, so I didn’t leave anything on the stove.”

“Doesn’t matter. Cornbread and milk will do.” Matthew took her hand and helped her from the wagon. “I’ll see to the horse.” Without another word, he led Samson toward the barn.

That evening, once they had donned their nightclothes, Ellie perched on the edge of the rocker next to the bedroom fireplace and folded her arms across her chest. “Something dreadful happened in town today, and I want to know what it is.”

Matthew sat on the bed. The candle on the nightstand cast shadows across his face, hiding his deep-set eyes. “Looks like my ministry here is finished.”

“No.”

“You’ve seen the attendance the past few weeks. I found out today that Beldon is behind it. He’s telling people that I’m not fit to preach God’s word—and they believe him.”

“That sounds like pure gossip to me. Why would someone like Mr. Beldon care about you or your church? Surely an important man like that has bigger things on his mind.”

Anger flashed across Matthew’s face. “You’d defend him? Against me?”

She walked to the bed and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not defending him. I see what’s happening in the church, and my heart breaks.” Ellie took a deep breath and held it for a moment. “I just think you’re wrong when you blame Mr. Beldon. It’s not like you to be so unfair. What proof do you have?”

Matthew shrugged her hand away. “Is it fair when all my years of pastoring the Beldon Grove church are ignored, like so much chaff after harvest?” He moved to the window and pulled the curtain aside. The blackness of the night reflected his face on the windowpane. Even in the imperfect image Ellie saw the anguish written across his features.

“I’m leaving for Quincy tomorrow to talk to the presiding elder of our district.” Matthew spoke into the void. “I’m going to resign.”

Shock rolled through Ellie. She couldn’t imagine Matthew as anything but a preacher. His devotion to his calling had been one of the things that had drawn her to him when they first met. She loved sitting at the front of the church and listening while he taught from the Word of God. Ellie had seen many lives changed under his caring guidance. He couldn’t throw it all away.

She clasped his limp hand in both of hers. “Matt, don’t. Please don’t. This will pass, you’ll see.”

“And in the meantime I go to a near-empty church and preach to my family? I’d look like a bigger fool than I did preaching against the play. You saw where that got me.” He pulled his hand free and walked to the bed. “Let’s get some sleep. I want to leave early.”

The sound of creaking floorboards awakened Ellie. She opened her eyes and saw Matthew bent over the blanket chest, pulling something out of its depths. Pale gray light filtered through the curtains.

“What are you doing?” she asked, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t rouse the children.

He startled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” When he turned he held his saddlebags in one hand. “Getting things together for the trip to Quincy.”

Ellie rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “It’s way before sunrise. Why not have a good breakfast and think things over? There’s no need for you to go tearing out of here.”

Matthew flopped the saddlebags onto the bed, stuffed a few items of clothing into one side, and pulled the buckle tight. “Sooner I leave, sooner it’ll be done.”

“Matt—”

“Don’t start in on me. I’ve been awake most of the night thinking and I keep coming back to the idea of just being a farmer.” His mouth twisted sideways. “Least that way our livelihood won’t depend on what people say about me.”

Fear rode up Ellie’s spine
.
She slipped out of bed and hurried to her husband’s side. More than anything she ached to wrap her arms around him, but she knew how unfair that would be considering the bargain they had drawn. Instead, she reached out and slid her hand over his cheek, his beard coarse beneath her fingers. Everything they’d built over the past fourteen years trembled in the air between them.

“You don’t know what Brother Meecham will say. Maybe he won’t release you.”

He captured her hand in his. “When he hears what’s happened to the Beldon Grove church, it’s likely he’ll expel me from membership.” He brushed his lips across her fingers. “I’m going. I expect to be back by this time next week.”

Desperate to keep him with her, she asked, “But what about Sunday’s service? You can’t just ignore it.”

“Already talked to Ben. He’ll open the doors and preach to whoever shows up.”

Until that moment Ellie hadn’t realized how much of herself was bound up in the respect that came with being a pastor’s wife. “But what about me? Don’t you care what I think?”

He turned, one hand on the latch. “I care, but I won’t let it stop me.”

Frustrated and angry, Ellie spent the hours after Matthew’s departure scrubbing floors as though she could scour away the events of the past several weeks. But her usual cure-all for misery failed her this time. Somehow Matthew’s presence made itself known even when he was in the barn or out in the fields. Today had a hollow feel, like answering a knock and finding no one there. In her heart she cherished the hope that he would change his mind en route and be back before supper.

But supper came and went, and once the children were in bed Ellie faced her first night without Matthew since he went to Missouri to get his sister Molly after her husband died. Then she’d had Aunt Ruby and Uncle Arthur. Now they were gone too. She walked out onto the back porch in her wrapper and slippers and gazed at the sky. A crescent moon hung overhead, surrounded by a wilderness of lights.

I wonder if Matthew is counting stars tonight.
In their early days together they used to sit outside on summer evenings, competing to see who could spot the first glittering pinprick overhead. How long had it been since they’d sat and watched the heavens? Ellie couldn’t remember.

Banners of gauzy clouds unfurled above her head. A slight breeze rustled through the cornfield and slid over her bare legs. Even after the wind shifted and the air chilled, she remained huddled on the top step, reluctant to go indoors and face the empty bedroom.

Ellie leaned into the kneading trough, folding the heavy mass of dough toward her and then pushing it away. She wondered how much longer they would have the luxury of wheat bread. The small salary Matthew received from the conference wouldn’t have supported them without their farm’s production, but it did allow a few extras such as coffee, sugar, tea, and wheat flour. Giving the dough one last fold, she wiped her hands on her apron and placed a linen towel over the trough.

Harrison wandered in the back door. “Sure is quiet without Papa.”

“It is.”

“When’s he coming back?”

“In a few days.” Ellie looked at his dusty brown feet. “You can’t be finished with the hoeing so soon.”

He slouched over to a chair. “Jimmy and Johnny were making fun of me. They said I’m too slow to be any help.”

Ellie planted her hands on her hips. “Does Papa think you’re slow?”

“No.”

“Well, neither do I. There’s acres of corn to be hoed. If the twins are bothering you, go down by the creek and work. Maria and I will come out and help you after dinner.”

She brushed a trickle of sweat from her forehead. The morning already felt hot and sticky. Once she heated the stove for bread-baking, the kitchen itself would turn into an oven. Ellie gazed out the window at clouds piling up in the western sky, hopeful that a good rain would clear the air.

Harrison dipped a cup of water from the crock next to the door and took his time drinking it. Then he headed back to the fields, his lower lip protruding in a sulky pout.

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