Embers of Love (28 page)

Mother stood, as did Stuart. “Stuart, I am sorry that you had to come all this way and lose important time with your business dealings. I know you needed to marry in order to receive your inheritance. Perhaps you will find another suitable prospect – someone who does not care about love. As for me, I could not marry for anything less.”

“You’ll have a lot less when I get done with you and your beloved Mr. Vandermark,” Stuart stated matter-of-factly. “You think this to be over and done, but I assure you, I’m not one to stand for such treatment. You gave your word to me – accepted my proposal and planned a wedding with me. I will not forgive you for making me the fool.” He picked up his hat and headed for the door.

Fear washed over Lizzie as Stuart’s threat began to sink in. Her mother only gave her a smug look.

“You should have known better than to insult a man of means,” her mother said. “You have sown the wind, and now you will surely reap the whirlwind.”

–––––––

Deborah sat beside her mother, while Rob and G. W. sat to the left with Lizzie. Uncle Arjan had said that it was important they all be at the gathering and give their honest opinions, but as of yet, Deborah wasn’t at all sure what this was about.

“After careful consideration,” Uncle Arjan began, “I decided to call this meetin’. I already talked to your mother about this, and we’re in agreement. However, we won’t move forward if there are any objections from you.”

“Objections about what?” G. W. asked. “This isn’t makin’ a whole lot of sense.”

Arjan gave a small chuckle. “I s’pose I am backin’ into this rather than just going headlong. This is the situation: In order to build the company and expand the business to meet Mr. Perkins’s contract, I’m of a mind to take out a loan. It’s not somethin’ I’ve considered lightly, but I think it’s necessary. We need new equipment, extra mules, and workers. We’ll need to work fast, too. My thought is to secure the loan, usin’ the land as collateral. The risk is minimal to us, given that we have the contract with Perkins. However, should something happen to Perkins, I believe we’ll have little trouble selling the wood to other mills.”

G. W. nodded and looked to Rob. “Makes sense to me. What about you?”

“Sounds good.”

Mother took that moment to speak up. “I believe this is what your father would have wanted. He had hopes of expandin’ the business.”

Uncle Arjan nodded. “There are other considerations, too. The house could use some repairs and expandin’. We’ll have to work those things in as time allows or hire someone to help.”

“I think it sounds like a good idea,” Deborah offered. This expansion would keep her working harder than ever.

G. W. leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Seems we’re all in agreement. So what’s next?”

“I’m thinkin’ to go to Houston. I’ve already had word from a bank there. We shouldn’t have any trouble gettin’ the loan.”

“When will you go?” Deborah asked.

“I figured to leave on Saturday. I can meet with the bank folks on Monday and set home that night if everything is worked out.”

“They’ll probably want to see a copy of our contract with Mr. Perkins,” Deborah said thoughtfully. “I’ll have that ready for you.”

“They’ll want the deed to the land, too,” G. W. added.

“Your mother has already provided it,” Uncle Arjan replied.

“Will you bring some new workers back with you? We’ve had a hard time with David not well enough to work, and like you said, when we go to cuttin’ even more trees, we’re gonna need extra help,” G. W. said.

“I ’spect to bring at least five men back with me. They’ll need a place to live, and your mother suggested we could bunk ’em at my cabin temporarily. It’ll be a bit snug, but I think it will work out until we can help ’em get another place to stay. If they’re family men, I’ll speak to Zed about what’s available in town.”

“I prefer family men,” Mother interjected. “They’re more reliable – not so likely to go drink away their wages.”

“If the weather holds and don’t get too cold, they could use the tents,” G. W. suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Uncle Arjan said, nodding. “The other issue at hand is the growing problems we’re having with the rooters. The razorbacks are startin’ to be a real nuisance, eatin’ the young trees and destroying any new growth.”

“We’ve been thinkin’ about ways to stop them, but it just ain’t that easy,” G. W. added. “Can’t lay traps or somebody’s livestock is likely to walk right into them.”

“Can’t fence, neither,” Rob added. “You know how folks feel about that ’round here.”

“Still, we have to find a way to protect the new growth,” Deborah said, giving it serious thought. “When I was in school, I attended several lectures that discussed the idea of replanting. I realize most logging companies like to clear the land and move on, but we’ve always thought differently. This is our home.”

“Our living, too,” Mother agreed. “Your father always said it was important to be a good steward of the land.”

“Are there other options for getting rid of the rooters?” Lizzie asked. “I mean, what about just shooting them and using the meat to feed the crew?”

“That’s a good idea, but the rooters are mostly out at night. It would be tricky to have someone hunt them,” Uncle Arjan replied.

“I think we should ask around and see what other folks are doin’,” G. W. suggested.

“Dinner’s on the table,” Sissy announced from the hall.

Mother rose. “Thank you, Sissy. I suggest we head in to lunch.”

Deborah got to her feet and the others followed suit. “Uncle Arjan could easily explore the matter while he’s in Houston. Other logging industries must be dealing with the same problem. There might already be a ready solution.”

“It’s worth tryin’,” her uncle agreed.

–––––––

Christopher Clayton took a seat toward the back of the church and suppressed a yawn. He’d been called to deliver a baby in the middle of the night and this, added to the busy week he’d already endured, had left him exhausted.

Brother Shattuck stepped to the front of the church with a troubled expression. “Brothers and sisters, I’ve had some sad news come to me this morning. Apparently a group of troublemakers attacked a black man last night down by the mill pond. No one knows who the men were, but I suppose we can imagine why they felt the need to do this man harm. It comes as no surprise to anyone here that many whites hold a great deal of animosity toward those of a differing color.”

Christopher wondered why he hadn’t been informed or called upon to help the man. He had often been summoned across the tracks to treat the people of color. With Brother Shattuck’s next statement, however, it became clear as to why the doctor had been unnecessary.

“The man died as a result of his injuries. He wasn’t even discovered until an hour ago. He was a good man – a man with a family, just like many of the men in this congregation – but others decided he didn’t deserve to live.”

He moved down from the pulpit and came to stand directly in front of the pews. “I can hardly believe that civilized men would act in such a manner. There’s not a man in this community who doesn’t know sorrow and death, and in knowing such miseries, should not willingly give them to another. I’m more saddened than I can say.”

There was a low murmuring in the congregation and the man beside Christopher elbowed him sharply. “Preacher ought to mind his own business and talk about the Scriptures.” The woman beside him nodded in agreement.

The man to Christopher’s left leaned forward. “Somebody ought to teach that preacher some manners.”

Suddenly, Christopher felt wide awake.

“This country suffered a terrible division over slavery, among other issues,” the preacher continued. “Like a family at odds with one another, this nation fought a war that left many without their fathers, sons, husbands, and brothers. They’re mourning in the black church today, and our community faces dealing with the murder of Mr. Samuel Davis.”

“Samuel?” Mrs. Vandermark stood in shock. “He used to work for us. Who would do such a thing?” She buried her face in her hands and began to weep.

Deborah came to her side and put an arm around her mother. “Brother Shattuck, is there something we can do to get justice for this man?”

“Justice?” someone questioned from behind Christopher. He turned to find an older man scowling. “Justice was probably already done served. Folks don’t put others to death for no reason.”

“That’s right!” the man beside Christopher bellowed. “Sins of the fathers revisited on the children. That’s in the Good Book.”

Brother Shattuck’s sorrow turned to disbelief. “Listen to yourself! That isn’t what’s happening here.”

“My guess is that man committed a crime.” This came from the man at Christopher’s left.

“Then the law should have been summoned to deal with the situation,” the pastor replied.

In a matter of moments, the entire church erupted in conflicting opinions. Christopher saw Deborah lead her mother from the church and followed after them. They’d barely stepped outside when Deborah’s mother collapsed. Christopher stepped forward quickly and caught her before she fainted to the ground.

“Mother!” Deborah reached for her mother’s hand.

“She’ll be all right. She’s had a bit of a shock. Where’s your wagon?”

“Just over there,” Deborah said as she pointed. “I’ll lead the way.”

Christopher followed her and gently eased Mrs. Vandermark onto the wagon bed. She rallied as Deborah tapped her hand.

“Mother, are you all right?”

“Oh, what’s happened?” She struggled to sit up, but Christopher held her back.

“Take it easy. You fainted.”

She looked up at him and shook her head. “How embarrassing.” Her expression changed as she appeared to remember the reason. “Oh, poor Samuel. His wife must be beside herself. Two little children and no father. What in the world caused those men to kill him?”

Christopher met her tear-filled eyes. “I couldn’t say.”

“Hate,” Deborah whispered. “That’s what made them kill.”

Christopher felt a chill run down his spine. No doubt she was right. He’d seen such things before and had hoped to never see them again. For a moment an unpleasant memory came to mind. Hate had been at the very heart of that horrendous moment from his past. Hate had very nearly taken a life then . . . just as it had taken Samuel Davis.

C
HAPTER
25

O
CTOBER
1885

Deborah wasn’t surprised that her mother insisted on helping Miriam Davis and her two young sons. Mother’s compassion extended to everyone, but especially to those who had no means to help themselves. Not only was it fitting to help the widow and orphans as the Bible commanded, but Mother viewed former employees as extended family – even if their skin was the color of ebony.

“Did you remember the green beans?” Mother asked. Deborah helped her mother get up into the wagon.

“Yes, ma’am. Ten quarts, just like you said.” Deborah hiked the skirt of her dark blue gingham dress and climbed up beside her mother. The early morning air had a hint of chill to it, but Deborah didn’t expect it to last for long. The afternoons were still warm and sunny, sometimes hot. She loved this time of year. The hardwoods were starting to turn colors; the promise of things to come.

Sadly, she couldn’t help but wonder if Samuel’s death was also foretelling the future. Back East, she had seen ugliness directed toward many people – not only those whose skin was a different color. There had been many problems with hatred and prejudice toward the Irish and Jews, just to name two groups. Here in Texas, there was more than just a disliking of the Negroes – whites were quite negative toward the Mexicans, as well. In fact, Mr. Perkins wouldn’t even hire those of Mexican or Indian blood. His grandparents had suffered under the Mexican government and Comanches had killed other members of his family years earlier.

“Do you suppose we’ll see more killings?” Deborah asked as they drove to the Davis home. “A great many people around here seem to feel free to overlook what’s happened.”

“I hope there won’t be further conflict. Arjan plans to speak to Zed about puttin’ some additional men out to guard the area. Some old hatreds have stirred up since he hired new people to work at the sawmill. Sometimes it seems the war took place just yesterday.”

Deborah focused on the road ahead. “I don’t suppose folks will ever be willing to completely forget.”

“And maybe they shouldn’t, lest we repeat the wrongs. However, forgiving the past is important. My parents held slaves, and so did their folks before them. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it’s a fact. When Mr. Lincoln called for an end to slavery, my family complied. They believed that the law of the land was to be obeyed. They didn’t agree with secession, but it caused them to face much ridicule and anger from their neighbors.”

“But that war was about so much more than just slavery,” Deborah countered. “I heard an esteemed statesman in Philadelphia. He spoke of the war as if it were really the final steps of our country’s battle to become a nation. Until the war, we were simply a collection of individual states without a cohesiveness to join together as one. States’ rights were always considered more important than that of the nation as a whole. The fight was also about bringing us together as one.”

“Sometimes you have to tear down to build up,” Mother replied. “But I don’t like seein’ where the bitterness has taken us. There will always be those who consider themselves better than their brothers, but the very idea of takin’ a life because a person looks different – has a different manner of speaking or religion – that’s just wrong. How can good Christian people act like that?”

Deborah shrugged. “Maybe because we aren’t really as good as we’d like to think. Being a Christian doesn’t mean we are perfect. Besides, don’t forget slavery is discussed in the Bible. Many people used that as an argument to support and defend it.”

“But now a woman is without a husband and her children without a father – and for what reason?”

Mother brought the wagon to a stop in front of the Davis home. There were several older women gathered near the open front door, while small children played in the dirt. Deborah helped her mother from the wagon, then went to the back to unload the goods they’d brought.