Hope Rekindled (26 page)

Most of the injured were treatable. Those who weren’t had died fairly soon after being brought to the examination room. Deborah wept silently as she covered the body of a ten-year-old boy. Someone had bashed in his head. He had struggled to live, but he had lost too much blood. It was just as well, she supposed. His mother and father were both dead.

Christopher once spoke of a certain ability with which God blessed medical folks. It was a kind of separation—a numbness that allowed them to see the most horrific sights and still function. His words proved true this day. But now, as the urgency passed and the moments settled into routine, emotion overwhelmed Deborah. Scenes revisited her thoughts—gashed heads, gunshot wounds, burns, and the ever-present odor of burnt flesh and death. When Mr. and Mrs. Perkins came forward to tell them to go home, she nearly cried with relief.

“You’ve done all you can, Doc. Why don’t you go on back home and get a good night’s sleep. We can handle these folks tonight. Rachel here is quite good at nursing, and Sissy won’t be far.”

Christopher seemed torn in regard to his duty. “I can sleep in my old bed.”

Zed led him to the door, taking Deborah along as he walked by. “We took that bed into the infirmary for a patient. You two were just married, and already you did more than anyone had a right to ask.”

“He’s right,” Jael said, coming alongside Deborah. “You two need to rest or you’ll be no good to us tomorrow.”

Deborah looked to Christopher. He nodded and put his arm around her. “I suppose we can bring back more supplies in the morning.”

“Take our carriage,” Jael offered.

“That’s all right. We can ride back with G.W.” Deborah had seen her brother only ten minutes earlier. He and Rob were going to finish up the remaining burials and then head home.

“I’ll go let them know,” Christopher said, heading toward the railroad tracks.

“I hope your work here hasn’t caused you too much trouble,” Deborah said to Jael. “I know we couldn’t have helped as many without you.”

Jael smiled. “I will be fine. Sometimes God brings about answers we don’t expect.”

“So you’re feeling less inclined to ignore the Lord?”

“I realized that doing things my way wasn’t exactly accomplishing a whole lot of good.” She smiled. “I’m new at this praying thing, but I asked God for His help and promised to do whatever I could to live a life He would find worthy of saving.”

“Just remember that salvation is a free gift. We can’t earn it, Jael. We aren’t any of us worthy in and of ourselves. We only find value in God’s eyes when we accept His Son as Savior.”

“Then that’s what I want,” her friend assured her.

Deborah embraced Jael. “I’m so glad. You won’t regret it.”

Jael pulled away and nodded. “I have already had answered prayer.”

The look on Jael’s face piqued Deborah’s curiosity, and apparently the question was fixed in her expression.

“I’ll tell you all about it later. Your brothers and husband are coming back this way.” She kissed Deborah’s cheek. “I’ll see you soon—I promise.”

Jael looked at Stuart and crossed her arms against her chest. Her father had long since gone to bed, but she wasn’t going anywhere until she had settled some issues.

“I do not intend to return to Houston until after I see this matter resolved with the Vandermarks.”

“Do you suppose to order me around—tell me how it will be?”

Jael took a seat opposite Stuart’s desk. “I had hoped we could work amicably together. Reach a compromise, if you would.”

“What makes you think you have anything I want?” He sneered. “You satisfy my needs quite well already, and as my wife you will continue to do so. There is no compromise to be had.”

“Ah, but there is.”

“If this is about a divorce, I have already told you no. We are married and will stay that way.”

“Not unless there are some changes.” She fixed him with a hard look. “You see, I know the truth.”

He looked around the room for a moment as if someone else had joined them. “What is this about?”

“I know you had to marry me to obtain your inheritance. We were both in need of marriage, and together we helped each other. I had hoped love would grow between us, Stuart, but I’m not sure that you are even capable of such emotion.”

“This is nonsense, Jael. Of course you knew the situation when we married. Now, leave me be and stop with any further thought of making demands. Or have you forgotten my previous threats? Miss Vandermark—excuse me, Mrs. Kelleher—may be married, but she could still meet with an accident.” He shrugged. “Things like that do happen.” He appeared to focus on the ledger before him.

Jael refused to be moved. “Of course I knew that you needed a wife to obtain your inheritance.” She waited until he raised his gaze to her before continuing. “What I didn’t know then was that you needed to remain married for a certain time period or your father would fail to release the final fortune to you. He would also cut you from his will irrevocably.”

Stuart tried to hide his surprise, but he was unable to mask his expression. “What are you talking about?”

Jael smiled and held up a letter. “I found this from your father. It was waiting for you in Houston.”

“You had no right to open that.” He pounded his fist against the desk. “No right.”

She shrugged. “Be that as it may, I read the contents and must say, they were quite liberating. You need me to remain married to you.”

Stuart appeared most uncomfortable. He pulled at the neck of his shirt and fell back against the chair. “What are you proposing?”

“I will stay with you, Stuart. I have spoken to my father about the matter, and while he is appalled at my being in a loveless marriage, I assured him that I could be content. We will live as man and wife in name only—perhaps even in the same residence, so long as we maintain separate living arrangements. You have your mistresses and liaisons anyway. I doubt you’ll be that inconvenienced.”

“And what must I do in return?” he asked, leaning forward.

She could see she had his utmost interest. “I think you already know the answer to that. Tear up your contract with the Vandermarks. Free them to do business elsewhere and stop this childish determination to get revenge. Do that and I will stay with you. Refuse and I will have lawyers draw up papers immediately for a divorce. My father will wire your father and explain, and your inheritance will be forfeited.”

“You tramp. You think you have me where you want me.”

Jael got to her feet. “No, because that place would be six feet under.”

“Speaking of which, I could simply do away with you,” he threatened.

She smiled. “But you won’t. The proviso of your father’s instructions stipulates that if I should die in any way other than during childbirth, he would immediately withdraw your funds until such time as you were able to remarry and remain that way for . . . what was it—ten years? Yes, I believe it was to be increased to ten.” She narrowed her eyes. “Since I do not intend to bear your children or share your bed again, my death in childbirth is clearly not going to happen.”

Stuart jumped to his feet. “I could force you! I could have my way with you here and now.”

She stood her ground. “You dare to try, and our divorce will be imminent. You see? I now hold the winning cards. You have tormented and tortured my friends for long enough. Resolve this matter immediately or lose it all.”

June 1887

S
tuart was not pleased to see his wife and father-in-law enter his study. “I’m very busy.” He looked at Longstreet. “It’s been over a week since you arrived—don’t you have business to attend to back in Houston?”

“I do, but I also have affairs that need my attention right here,” Longstreet replied. He seated Jael and pulled up a second chair for himself. “As your partner, I figure we need to talk.”

Stuart looked at Jael, and the rage brewing within him since her proclamations the week before threatened to boil over.

“With all that has happened,” Longstreet began, “we need to figure out what is most beneficial and productive for this town. I have arranged to have the blacks moved into the houses on the north side of town.”

“What? Those are quarters for whites. This isn’t their side of town,” Stuart protested.

“That was once the case, but now there is no other alternative. They cannot be expected to live without shelter. The thunderstorms of the past few days should prove that if nothing else. Then there are the sick to contend with.”

“I already allowed the infirmary to be reopened. Dr. Kelleher has used up most of the inventoried supplies, and I haven’t even charged the people for their care.”

“Nor will you,” Jael declared.

Stuart was not used to being ordered about—especially not by a woman. He glared at her. “I may have money, my dear wife, but I won’t have it for long if I give charity to everyone.”

“You are the reason this town is in ruins,” she countered. “I’ve overheard your conversations with the insurance inspector. Whether you set the mill on fire yourself or hired it done, it was still your doing. You have a grudge against the Vandermarks and anyone who cares for them.”

“You can never prove that,” Stuart said without thinking. He fought to regain his composure, adding, “Because it isn’t true.”

Dwight Longstreet raised his hand. “It isn’t important. We need to turn things around and see this town rebuilt. Until new quarters can be constructed to house the blacks, they will stay in the ones already in place.”

“No white man will put his family in a house where former slaves have lived. Your knowledge of whites in this part of the country may be limited, but I’ve made it my duty to understand.” Stuart crossed his arms. “We’ll only end up having to tear those houses down or drag them to the other side of the tracks.”

“If it comes to that, then we will do what must be done,” Longstreet replied. “In the meanwhile, I intend to speak to Zed about setting up an outdoor mill. I’m going to instruct him to order the things he needs and get at least a minimal mill operation going. That will give people work to do and provide the needed lumber for the reconstruction.”

Stuart jumped to his feet. “You overstep your bounds, Longstreet. You forget that I am the controlling partner in this business.”

Jael stood to face her husband. “And you forget that I know full well about your father’s requirements for your inheritance. Your days of revenge and control have come to an end. You are no longer going to do these people harm.”

“Me? I didn’t burn down the shanties. I didn’t shoot up the town.” He was annoyed that she should even imply such a thing. Certainly he’d done nothing to stop it, but he was only one man against fifteen or twenty. Lying low in the house was far wiser until he could learn to what extent the riders intended to cause damage.

“Have you torn up the Vandermark Logging contract yet?” she asked.

Stuart knew that he had to reclaim control over the conversation. He drew a deep breath. “I have considered it, but given what your father is demanding of me, I cannot.” She frowned and he continued. “We must have logs in order to create lumber. I will let the Vandermarks know that we need to immediately resume deliveries.”

Jael considered this for a moment, then retook her seat. Instead of looking to Stuart, however, she turned to her father. “Would that be helpful to them—to rebuilding?”

Stuart wanted to throw something at her. How dare she look to her father for answers? He held his tongue, however. Longstreet was already assuring her that it would be a good arrangement.

“The Vandermarks will get paid, and we will have immediate product. Stuart has already had some lumber brought in, as well as milling equipment. I’m certain that if we get Zed Perkins back on the job, we can see progress within a matter of weeks.”

Jael nodded. “And what of the people, Father? They’ve lost everything. They have no food or other necessities.”

“I have already placed an order for the commissary to be restocked in full. We will give the people company tokens for working to help us clear the debris and rebuild the mill and houses. Women will be hired, as well as youngsters. I’ll have Zed get word out that we need workers.”

“You take too much upon yourself.” Stuart all but growled out the words.

“When will you let the Vandermarks know about bringing in the logs?” Jael asked, turning back to Stuart. “Today?”

Stuart looked at the two people. Was it possible that he now hated this pair more than he did G.W. and Deborah?

A thought came to mind. Perhaps he could still have his revenge. If things went his way, he might even own Vandermark Logging before it was all done. Of course! Why hadn’t he considered this before?

“I will go today,” he told them. He searched around the desk and pulled up several pieces of paper. “I will see what we are entitled to and request it all. They will make a small fortune, and I will have the necessary wood to begin rebuilding.”

Jael smiled. “That sounds wonderful. Come, Father. Let’s go talk to Mr. and Mrs. Perkins.”

“I thought they’d returned to Lufkin,” her father replied.

She frowned. “I’d forgotten that. Let’s send them a wire, then. We need to get them back here immediately. They can bring others with them.” She waited for him to get to his feet. Glancing at Stuart, she gave him a curt nod. “Thank you, Stuart. I’m glad you’ve decided to cooperate.”

“Deborah, you in here?” Arjan called from the cabin door.

Coming out from the small room they’d made into an examination area, Deborah smiled. “Goodness, you gave me a start. I was just putting away some supplies.”

Arjan entered the house, cane in one hand and a very pale Jake helped along by the other. Jake held his left arm close to his body. Someone had wrapped his hand and forearm in a bandage, but blood was seeping through.

“What happened?” she asked. “Bring him in here.”

Deborah led the way to the examination room. She motioned for her uncle to assist Jake while she lit the two bracketed wall lamps at the head of the table and angled their reflectors to give her maximum light.

“Christopher isn’t here right now, so I’ll have to take care of you,” she said, looking at the solemn-faced Jake.

“I’m all right with that. I know you’re good. I’ve seen you work.”

His face was a pasty white, and Deborah feared he might well faint. “Why don’t you lie down here on the table and tell me what happened.”

Arjan leaned the cane against the wall, then helped ease Jake into position as best he could. “Saw slipped. He just happened to have his hand and arm in the way.”

“Hurts like the devil,” Jake said.

Deborah unwrapped the bandages. Caked blood and dirt would need to be washed away before she could tell exactly how bad it was. “I’ll need to clean it. This won’t be pleasant, but you’ll be glad for it in the long run.”

“If you don’t need me,” Arjan told her, taking up his cane, “I’ll go let your ma know what’s happened.”

“That’s fine. Jake will hold still.” She looked at him and smiled. “Won’t you?”

Arjan laughed, but Jake only gritted his teeth as Deborah began to wash the wound. “I’ll be back shortly to check in on you,” her stepfather told her.

Taking a good look at the damage, Deborah could see that the wound was far deeper toward the center of the hand. The gash ran along the lower edge of the forearm and right between the line of tendons that connected to his thumb and index finger.

“I think that if an injury could be called lucky, this would be the one. If you’d been sliced the other way, you probably would never be able to use this hand again.”

“Sure don’t know why it had to happen.”

“Who can say? I’m going to have to stitch you up between your finger and thumb, but the rest isn’t so deep. I don’t think this is going to give you too much grief. You’ll have to take it easy for a while, though, and keep it clean so infection won’t set in. I don’t know that you can work.”

Jake opened his eyes and smiled. “I was going to be quittin’ at the end of the week anyway.”

“Truly? But why?”

He grimaced as she examined the wound further. “I sent my folks a wire. I want to join them in California.”

“That’s wonderful, Jake. I’m so glad you felt you could.”

“I came to realize something,” he said, fixing his gaze on her face. “I do care about you, but I care just as much about your family. What I was lookin’ for was that sense of belonging. I just figured it meant that I needed to take a wife and that she ought to be you.”

Deborah was touched by his confession. “Jake, I’m so blessed to hear it. Thank you for telling me.”

“I miss my folks. We were always close, but the drought and the loss of the ranch changed my father. Changed me, too. I wasn’t kind to him. I was angry and I blamed him for losin’ what had been in the family for some time.” Jake’s expression saddened. “I have a great deal of apologizin’ to do.”

She reached for her needle. “The important thing is that forgiveness is something we do for ourselves as well as the other person. If you forgive your father, you will feel better in your own soul. If your father forgives you—who knows? It may well set matters aright and find him able to move forward. I’m sure the loss of the ranch was hard on him, as well.”

“I know it was,” Jake said. “Knew it then, too, and I hate myself for being so heartless.”

“But hate won’t serve any good purpose. Look what it did in town. Look what it’s done to this country. We won’t ever be without it, but we can do our part to lessen it.”

“I heard that Arjan talked to the law about the White Hand of God.”

Deborah nodded. “Not that it will resolve the problems here, to be sure. Some folks will support ugliness as well as beauty. We talked long and hard with Pastor Shattuck, and he said that it will take time to change the hearts of folks who are steeped in such a desperate desire to punish others. I have to have hope that God can do it, though. If not, then I would truly be lost in despair.”

Jake glanced down at his arm. “So you really gonna stitch me up or just sit there and jaw with me?”

She laughed. “Believe me, by the time I finish, you’ll be beggin’ me to just talk.”

He drew a deep breath. “Well, give me something to bite down on. I don’t want no one hearin’ me holler.”

Deborah glanced across the room for something to give him. She spied a towel and went to fetch it. Fixing it into a tight roll, she handed it to Jake. “This ought to help muffle your protests.”

He took the towel and brought it to his mouth. “Let’s get this over with, then.”