Faith (24 page)

Noone can leave Deliverance until after
the Founder's Day celebration."

Faith glanced up from packing to see Mary Ellen standing
in the doorway. Her friend's unexpected appearance startled
her. "Good morning. I thought you were in the kitchen."

"I was, but I knew I had to talk you out of leaving today.
It's Founder's Day." Mary Ellen stepped into the small
cubicle and slid her hand across the dark blue calico folded
in Faith's valise. "Carl Lewis's sister is here from San
Antonio, Oren's brother's visitin' from Dallas-no one
would miss the celebration."

"But, Mary Ellen," Faith protested.

"Don't do this, Faith. Don't leave in haste. Wait a few
more days, and see what Nicholas does."

Faith shook her head. "I've taken advantage of your hospitality for over a month. It's time for me to go home."

"You've been a godsend." Mary Ellen's sober look vanished and her sunny smile returned. "Stay, if only for the
day. I'm not even sure if the stage operates on holidays."

Faith felt stricken. It had taken days to convince herself
that the time had finally come to leave. She'd seen Nicholas
twice since the community dance-once at the mercantile,
and last Thursday afternoon when she was crossing the
street to attend Bible study. On both occasions they'd
nodded politely and gone about their business. Sundays,
Nicholas and Liza attended church services but left immediately after the sermon. Nicholas gave no indication of the
slightest interest in her.

"Powder your nose; then help me get the food ready.
Then we have to get the children into clean clothes." Mary
Ellen gave Faith's shoulder a pat and ran to the bedroom
door. "Albert, get the buckboard ready. We're going to a
celebration!"

For weeks everyone in town had taken part in planning
the anticipated event, scheduled to take place today. Faith
knew Nicholas and Liza would be there, and Rachel as
well. She just couldn't bear to run into those people again.
She had to leave now. She'd wrestled with the issue, and it
wasn't clear what God would have her to do. She just
couldn't face a public situation where she would see
Nicholas and Liza.

Then again, she really hadn't gotten the go-ahead from
God to leave.... Oh, it seemed that every way she turned she faced insurmountable problems! Yet in her spirit,
through all the chaos, she felt as if God was telling her to
wait ... to hold on.

"Mary Ellen, if I do go to the celebration today..."

"No `if'-you're going."

"OK, I'm going. But I must go by and help Dan get the
children ready. I told him I would help before I caught the
stage."

"Yes, I know you promised to help him. We'll drop you
at his house on our way."

The two women busied themselves gathering the food for
the day's picnic. Faith was caught up in the excitement of
the hectic household. She refused to worry about Nicholas
and his relationship with her today.

She arrived at Dan's shortly before noon. For weeks now
Sissy and Adam had talked about the Founder's Day festivities. Adam's voice filled with excitement as he chattered
about the annual fireworks display. As she watched the
excitement that radiated from a child who would never
experience the spectacular display of brilliant colors and
splendid designs exploding in midair, Faith realized how
many blessings she took for granted.

Adam and Sissy burst through the doorway, clamoring for
the washbowl.

"Papa said we're going to a sellobration!" Sissy shrieked.

"We're going, we're going, we're going!" Adam chanted.
"Faith, will you help me see the fireworks colors?"

"You bet I will, Buster!" Faith paused long enough to
embrace the little boy.

"Hey, my name's not Buster!" Adam grinned. "But you
can call me anything you want-long as you promise to
come with us!"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!" Faith realized that was
true, and she silently promised herself that tonight, somehow, someway, she would make Adam see the fireworks.
She'd find a way to describe every detail, every magnificent,
glorious, colorful burst. Though young Adam had been to
previous Founder's Day displays, tonight she'd make certain
he experienced the performance through her eyes.

The Walterses' buckboard rolled into town around
twelvethirty as the stage was just departing the depot.
Faith's mouth dropped open, and she looked at Dan.

"Mary Ellen said she didn't think the stage ran today."

He shrugged, grinning. "We all wanted you to stay."

As the wagon drew closer to the church, Faith caught
sight of the much discussed steeple. Liza still wasn't going to
give money to replace it. But as she looked more carefully,
she thought that with a little paint and some nails it would
last for another few years. An idea hit her. She liked the
townsfolk; most had made her feel wanted and welcomed.
If she couldn't bring a school for the blind to Deliverance,
she could leave a small legacy behind when she left.

She would fix the steeple. She and Dan. She was sure Dan
wouldn't mind. Between them, they could have that old
bell tower looking like new. It would mean she would have
to stay in town a few more days, but what would that hurt?
After all, she'd promised to head the steeple committee in
exchange for the women's help cleaning the Smith house. Dreams for the school for the blind were gone, but she
could still fulfill her duty. Once the steeple was repaired, she
would be free to purchase her stage ticket. It would take
every cent of her nest egg, but it was worth it.

The quaint Church of Deliverance was nestled in a shady
grove of pecan trees. It was one of those rare summer Saturdays when the weather was comfortable. Reverend Hicks
stood at the front door, shaking hands as his flock packed
into the small church.

Faith noticed Joe and Rachel Lanner's pew was empty
today. Nicholas and Liza were already stationed in their
usual front seats.

Faith followed Dan and the children into their pew and
sat down.

Liza briefly turned to look over her shoulder as the Walters entered the room. For a split second, she met Faith's
gaze. Faith's heart turned over. Liza looked very old and
tired this morning, her eyes sad. Could it be, Faith wondered, that Liza regretted her reckless conduct? Bowing her
head, Faith asked the Lord for forgiveness for both her and
Liza. Neither had been acting as God wanted. If Liza would
show one ounce of encouragement, Faith would gladly set
their differences aside. Faith still believed God had sent her
to Deliverance for a purpose. I will never fail you. I will never
forsake you. Lifting her eyes ever so slightly, Faith offered
Liza a tentative smile.

Liza nodded toward her, then turned in her seat as the
service began.

Children squirmed throughout Reverend Hicks's oratory about how Deliverance had been founded by a small band
of Ute Indians. The tribe had fallen ill from a strange malady, and J. W. Delivers had fed and cared for the ailing
tribe. All died except the chief. In gratitude for Delivers's
kindness, the chief had proclaimed that the land belonged to
Delivers. The town sprang up some twenty-five years later.

Even baby Lilly got restless during the long talk, squirming
on Dan's lap. He bounced her up and down on one knee,
trying unsuccessfully to quiet her. Faith finally reached over
and took the fussy infant. Lilly immediately stuck her fingers
in her mouth and surrendered to a peaceful sleep.

Faith looked up to see Nicholas watching the exchange
with eyes as cold as granite.

After the service, the congregation gathered for the longawaited celebration. With all the colorful blankets spread on
the ground, the churchyard resembled a giant, multicolored
quilt.

Activity was everywhere. Hardworking farmers and
ranchers who seldom saw each other gathered to discuss
crops and herds. Others tossed horseshoes or swapped tales
so windy that the Reverend jokingly said next year they'd
follow Founder's Day with a Liars Festival.

Children, like miniature whirlwinds, ran in every direction. Little boys in their best knickers and white shirts
played snap-the-whip or engaged in marbles, using shiny
agates and cat's eyes. Little girls in their frilliest dresses, with
matching pinafores and bonnets, skipped rope or played
ring-around-the-rosy. Their hearty laughter filled the air.

Women chased rowdy toddlers while others preferred to sit in the shade, issuing idle threats. Single girls discreetly
scouted for potential suitors, smiling and charming their
way through the groups of young men whose ears flamed a
bright red under all the attention. Women, young and old,
traded recipes and gave advice on gardening, canning, and
dressmaking. Conversations grew more animated as several
women huddled to share the latest bit of gossip.

Adam was full of the need to help. Faith steadied his
hands as he poured lemonade into glasses. When each glass
was filled, he was thrilled with his accomplishment. A huge
grin wreathed his face.

Dan gathered his brood and said grace, then Faith filled
plates with fried chicken, baked beans, corn on the cob, and
sourdough bread. Lilly got a bottle. A fine-looking chocolate
cake and browned apple dumplings awaited them for dessert.
During the past month, as Faith helped cook for Dan and for
Mary Ellen, she was delighted to learn that although she still
didn't like cooking, she was pretty good at it.

"Thank you for helping me, Adam." Faith smiled at the
child as they cleaned up.

"Ahhhh, weren't nothin' to it." He grinned broadly.

"And what, young man, did you do to help Faith that was
so special?" Dan asked, playfully ruffling the boy's carrot top.

"You want to tell him, Adam? Or should I?" Faith asked.

"You tell him." Adam's freckled face blushed a russet red.

"Your handsome son filled every last one of our glasses
with lemonade!" Faith said. "And without dribbling a single
drop!"

Dan patted Adam's shoulder. "Is that right?"

"Yes, sir." Adam beamed. "But Faith helped me."

"All I did was guide your hand, just a little. You did the
rest. Pouring was the hardest and most important part."

Dan winked his appreciation at her. Father's pride glowed
in his eyes at his son's latest success. Faith knew exactly how
he felt. She was feeling a bit of pride herself.

"I suppose we should show this young man our appreciation," Dan said. "Don't know about the rest of you, but as
for me, there's nothing quite as satisfying on a hot day as a
cool glass of lemonade."

"I absolutely agree," Faith replied. "I suggest we make
young Adam king for the day and seal his new title with a
round of applause." They fashioned a crown of twigs and
placed it on his head.

Faith, Dan, and Sissy clapped so loud and long that they
drew attention from the crowd. Even Lilly made a couple
of decent swats with her chubby little hands, squealing
loudly. Faith could see by the sparkle in Adam's sightless
eyes that he truly felt like a king. The young boy reveled in
even the slightest accomplishment. An ache gripped Faith's
heart when she thought about the school for the blind that
would never be. Adam was so bright, so starved for knowledge. Little Adam Walters would someday make his mark in
this life, she'd wager on that-and Papa never let her wager.
Ever.

Midafternoon, musicians gathered to provide lively tunes
and soul-wrenching gospel. Albert Finney played harmonica; Sarah Jane's husband picked banjo. Another man fired up a toe-tapping fiddle. Beside him, a young boy played
spoons.

The foursome regaled the crowd with "My Old Kentucky Home," "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground," and
"Oh! Susanna."

Faith's favorite was "Amazing Grace." No matter how
often she heard the song, it was so beautiful, so heartrending, that it brought tears to her eyes. June had sung "Amazing Grace" a cappella as they lowered Papa into his grave.

Late in the afternoon Sissy played with a ball that had seen
better days, its torn leather having been stitched for the last
possible time.

Lilly demanded all of her father's attention. The baby was
determined to inch her way off the blanket. Just as Dan
blocked her path or took hold of her diaper to slow her
down, she turned and crawled in the other direction. The
rambunctious baby kept Faith and Dan busy.

Nicholas, Liza, Vera, and Reverend Hicks sat on a blanket
nearby, watching the display of family unity. Faith was
uncomfortable with their close perusal, but she vowed not
to let it spoil her day.

"Afternoon, good people." Jeremiah wandered by and
paused to tickle Lilly under her chin.

"Hello, Jeremiah," Faith replied. "Would you like to
join us?"

"You're more than welcome, Jeremiah. We've got more
food than we could eat in a week," Dan invited. "I do
believe you'll find Faith's cookin' to be the best around."

Jeremiah nodded, smiling. "I'm most certain it is, and I do thank you for the tempting invitation. But I was just about
to pay my respects to Liza."

Dan winced. "Good luck."

Faith glanced over to see that Liza was now sitting alone.
Reverend Hicks and Nicholas were setting up a table in the
brush arbor. Vera hauled out watermelons.

"Thank you, my good man. I'm sure I'll be needing all
the help I can get." Jeremiah smiled and continued toward
the Shepherd blanket.

"Poor Jeremiah." Faith sighed, her gaze following him as
he approached Liza, sitting under a tree. "If he isn't careful,
Liza will serve him up for lunch."

"I have a feeling Jeremiah can hold his own with Liza."
Dan leaned over and snagged Sissy by the hem of her dress.
"Who wants to play ball with me?"

"I do!" Sissy screamed.

"Me too!" Adam shouted.

Dan tossed the ball to Adam. He threw it wildly to Sissy,
who scurried to catch it.

Faith lay down on the blanket, cradling her head on
folded arms, watching Jeremiah. She'd been taught not to
eavesdrop, but the temptation was just too great.