Amethyst (42 page)

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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

BOOK: Amethyst
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“But I am. I haven’t long, and we have much to do.”

“We do?”

“Yes. See that portfolio on the desk?”

Jacob nodded.

“Bring that to me, will you, please?”

“Of course.” Jacob retrieved the leather-bound packet and laid it on the edge of the bed. “Do you need more light?”

“No, I know what is in there. I want you to read it so we can talk about it and make sure all will be well.”

“I see.” Jacob didn’t know what else to say. Actually, he didn’t see or understand anything at the moment. He picked up the binder and opened the cover. “This is your will.”

“Very good observation.” The dry wit still lived.

“But why should I read your will?”

“Please, just do as I ask.” Dumfarthing tried to clear his throat but had to cough instead. The rattle made Jacob flinch.

“I have made the usual bequests. Mrs. Howard will be taken care of for life. Since I have no living children and my one living brother has plenty of his own wealth, I have designated a large sum to the church here.” He raised his hand and a glint came back to his eye. “You need not take credit for that, although had you not bullied me back to life then, I would not be here now.” He paused. “You gave an old man a new lease on life, but it seems that lease has run out now.”

“I’m glad I was here.”

“I wish you were still here, but I have made peace with God about many things. Young men make foolish mistakes, but God willing, they learn from them and go on to walk the path He ordained for them.”

“Speaking of young men in a generic sense.”

“Of course.” Again the dry chuckle that sounded like a death rattle.

Jacob read further. “You can’t do this.”

“It’s my money.”

“But…”

“I have prayed long and hard over this. The church here in town will have the interest from the investments I have designated for them. It should help them for years to come. If I give more, they will come to depend on that and not understand the benefit of paying their own tithes. Then they will not reap the harvest God has promised to those who bring in their full tithe.” He paused to catch his breath. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed.

Jacob studied the face that bore only a resemblance to the man he left more than a year earlier. A skull with skin still stretched on it. The shock of white hair standing every which way, so unlike the careful grooming he’d known Mr. Dumfarthing to expect. He needed a shave. Perhaps he could shave him after they finished talking.

He continued reading while he waited.

With a snort Mr. Dumfarthing woke again. “As I was saying, money needs to be used wisely, and I have been praying for the wisdom God has promised as to the way ahead. Mrs. Howard will have the use of this house as long as she desires; then it is to be sold and the money distributed to the libraries here in town and the surrounding area. The remainder of the money is to go to you, and I count on you to use it wisely for yourself, your church, and your school. You did get the teaching position, did you not?”

Jacob nodded. “I heard the day before I received your letter.”

“I want you to take a portion of money with you. You’ll find that in the brown leather envelope. The remainder I suggest you leave in the hands of my solicitor. He will make sure you receive monthly dividends. Or would you rather have them quarterly?”

“Ah…”

“I see. I believe the minister of a church should receive money on a monthly basis, so that is how it will be, then. Do you have any questions?”

“Ah…” Jacob tried to clear his throat.
Please, Lord, give me the right words
. “All I can think to say is thank you. Are you sure you understand what you are doing?”

“Believe me, son, I understand. I thank our God every day for you, and I have prayed that you will fulfill God’s will for your life as you helped me to finish out mine.”

“But I did—I have done so little.”

“That depends on whose viewpoint you are seeing.” Again that dry chuckle. He sighed. “I have more for you to do for me if you will.”

“Anything.”

“I would like you to conduct my funeral. I have written all the instructions there. You can read them later. I spoke with our minister, and he is in full agreement that you will do the service. He will take care of whatever arrangements are needed. He knows my wishes.”

“I see.”

“Now, I know Mrs. Howard has fixed us something to eat, and when I ring that bell, she will come right in. Before that, do you have any questions?”

Jacob shook his head. “Not at the moment, but I’m sure some will come.”
How will I come back in time to do his funeral? Lord, I don’t want to say good-bye
.

Mr. Dumfarthing reached for the bell and knocked it over. “Can’t even ring the bell right. Lord God, it is time.”

Jacob picked up the bell and rang it.

The door opened, and Mrs. Howard wheeled in a tea cart with plates and service for two.

“I’m sure you are famished by now, Reverend Chandler, but he made me promise not to bother you until he rang the bell.”

As she spoke, she bustled about the cloth-draped serving cart, making sure each plate was just so. “Would you like me to help you?” she asked Mr. Dumfarthing.

“No, I think not. Just a bit of that pudding and a drink of water.”

“I brought fresh.” She poured him a glass and snaked an arm behind his shoulders so he could sit enough to drink. Glancing to Jacob she asked. “Will you say the blessing, please?”

After he said grace, she nodded. “Would you like me to help you with the pudding?”

“No. Jacob will.” Mr. Dumfarthing lay back as if drinking took all the energy he had. “In a bit. You go on ahead and eat and let me rest for a minute.” He paused without opening his eyes. “You might finish reading all that legal mumbo jumbo so if you have more questions, I can answer them.”

“As you wish.”

A snort let him know that the old man wasn’t really sleeping.

After he finished eating, he took the papers to the window and let the sun warm his shoulders as he read them again. This was too much to believe.
Lord, I know you said you’d provide, but this is beyond my understanding. I don’t deserve such munificence
.

A gentle chuckle wafted in with the breeze.

“Any questions?”

Jacob returned to his seat. “Not a question, but I’m needing some clarification.”

“All right.”

“So if I need money to build the church, I just write to you—”

“To my solicitor. I won’t be here. I’m changing my address.”

Jacob’s grin turned to a chuckle. “I see.”

“So I write to whomever and tell him what I need, and he will send that amount of money?”

“Yes. Above and beyond your monthly stipend.”

That’s far more than a stipend
. He still couldn’t comprehend that he would receive that amount each month.

“You know I’ll be paid by the territory of Dakotah for my teaching.”

“So?”

Jacob shrugged. “Just thought I’d mention it.”

“It will most likely be too late this fall to start the church building, but first thing come spring you can get to it. I’ll see if I can talk my Father into easing up on you folks this winter.”

Jacob nearly dropped his coffee cup. He stared at the skeleton in the bed and caught a wink from one bright eye. Mr. Dumfarthing snorted, then chuckled, and finally broke out in a full laugh.

Jacob shook his head. “I can just see you standing before the heavenly throne, negotiating with the Most High God.”

“He said ask.”

“I know.”
But what I’m asking, He probably has a better answer for
. How he had missed their chats and verbal duels. All because he had run, and yet, look at all the good God was working out for him.

When he heard the old man snoring, he rose and left the room. Mrs. Howard waited right outside the door. “If you could show me where my things are…?”

“Of course. Then I’ll take out the dinner things. He should sleep for a while now. This has been more effort than he’s used to. Each day he’s fading more.” She stepped back and let him precede her into a bedroom with a four-poster bed as big as the soddy back home. “I took the liberty of hanging up your coat. I brushed it out good.”

“Thank you.” Jacob crossed to the padded bench at the foot of the bed and removed his Bible from his carpetbag. “I’ll just go sit with him, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“I see he needs shaving. I could do that for him.”

“We’ll see.”

Jacob watched Mr. Dumfarthing sleep, wondering at times if he would awaken when the breaths seemed farther apart.

“Jacob.”

“I’m here.”

“Good.” He reached out and Jacob took his hand.

“If you feel up to it, I could shave you.”

“Perhaps later.” He paused, the pauses growing longer. “About your housing.”

“Yes.”

“Have you found a wife yet?”

“I hope so.” What did that have to do with a house? But he waited, knowing there was a purpose.

“The young woman, Opal, that you mentioned in your letters?”

“God willing.” Jacob went on to explain Rand’s request.

“A wise man, that Rand. And a good friend?”

“I do believe so. He’s one of God’s gifts to me and the whole community.”

“Good. I want you to buy a ranch, since you said Joel loves ranching, and it sounds like Opal does too.” He paused and lifted one eyebrow. “Again, contact
our
solicitor…”

Jacob caught the emphasis on
our
. It sounded like theirs would be a long-term relationship. He took Dumfarthing’s hand in his again. “Sir, I cannot begin to thank you. Are you sure?”

Again the chuckle or at least an attempt at one. “Just use it all to God’s glory. I trust you to do that.”

“Yes, sir.”
Please, God, that I can and will
.

Throughout the evening the old man sank lower and lower, his lucid times farther apart, his breathing more faint. He passed on to glory just after the clock bonged midnight. Jacob watched, fighting tears as he knelt by the bed. “Good-bye, my friend. Godspeed.”

Mrs. Howard wiped away her tears. “He was a good man.”

“Only Evan Dumfarthing could have planned and executed his death like this.”

“I told you he was waiting for you.”

“Now I understand what you meant.”

The next day Jacob met with the solicitor and came away more in awe of what he’d been given than ever. Meeting with the pastor proved that Mr. Dumfarthing had indeed laid out all his wishes, and they would be followed.

“I’m going to miss him,” Reverend Goldsmith said. “We had some fine discussions. He spoke very highly of you.”

“I’m glad you took the time to get to know him.”

“It started as a command performance.” His blue eyes twinkled over round ruddy cheeks.

Jacob smiled and nodded. “I’m sure that it did. So we can have the funeral the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, I’ve already set things in motion.” He handed Jacob his copy, in Mr. Dumfarthing’s handwriting, of the order of service.

Jacob read down and broke into a chuckle. Beside the word
Eulogy,
his old friend had written,
Keep it short
. The same instructions applied next to the word
Homily
. Jacob looked up. “Mrs. Howard said she is preparing things at the house.”

“Our women will bring food in spite of his directive, so tell her to go easy.”

Jacob raised his eyebrows.

“I know. She doesn’t listen any better than he did.” Reverend Goldsmith leaned back in his chair. “You have any questions or suggestions for the funeral?”

“Not that I can think of. He laid things out about as well as any man could.” He rose to his feet and extended his hand. “Thank you.”

The funeral went according to plan, but Jacob doubted Mr. Dumfarthing had any idea how many people would attend the funeral. People filled the church wall to wall and outside down the front steps. According to his wishes, the casket was closed, but people passed by it anyway, laying a flower or patting the wood. Many continued on out to the cemetery, wiping tears as the box was lowered into the ground.

“A perfect day,” Mrs. Howard said that evening after Jacob had helped her put things back to rights. “Just the way he planned it.” She sighed. “He misjudged the number of people we needed to feed, though. Good thing the ladies of the community brought things by.”

“Reverend Goldsmith knew better. He seems like a good pastor for the church here.”

“He is.” She looked over at Jacob leaning back in the leather armchair that had been Mr. Dumfarthing’s favorite. “But we sure missed you after you left.”

“That was a terrible thing I did.” Jacob reminded himself yet again that he’d been forgiven for his actions.

“Mr. Dumfarthing looked forward to your letters. I’m glad you wrote and told him about life in the badlands. He read everything he could find about the area.”

Jacob nodded. “He was an amazing man, and I will be eternally grateful, as will my friends out west who will benefit from his largess.”

“Me too.” She caught a yawn. “I will bid you good night, then. Is there anything you need?”

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