Embers of Love (9 page)

“That’s only fair,” Mr. Perkins granted. “Write that in. I’ll sign off on it.”

They haggled over figures for another few minutes before Deborah was finally satisfied. Mr. Perkins reached out to shake her hand. “Your family will benefit greatly from you handling their affairs.” He turned to Uncle Arjan. “Don’t let her get away from you.”

“I don’t intend to,” her uncle agreed.

She felt a mixture of emotions at his words. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to benefit her family, but with each passing day, Deborah had the distinct feeling that she had backed herself into a corner. She remembered one of her professors once saying, “Be careful of making yourself irreplaceable and indispensable, lest you find that you are.”

“You’ll be providing half my supply.” Mr. Perkins patted her shoulder. “Your pa sure would have been proud.”

Deborah nodded. “He would have been.” She finished adjusting the terms of the document on one set of papers and handed the paper to her uncle. Dipping her pen in the ink, she passed that to him, as well. “You should both initial where each of the changes are listed and sign on the last page.”

Uncle Arjan took the pen and did just that. He let Deborah blot the signature then handed the contract back to Mr. Perkins. “Looks like I’d better hire me some men.”

Mr. Perkins initialed and signed while Deborah adjusted the second copy of the contract. Once all of the signatures were in place, Zed Perkins handed Arjan his copy. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I get back from Houston. I don’t think we’re going to have any problem now. I have four other small operations agreeing to provide wood, so the bankers can easily see that I’ll have the wherewithal to furnish what I say I can. It was good to do business with you, Miss Deborah.”

She smiled. “Likewise.”

Uncle Arjan left momentarily to walk Mr. Perkins to the door, then returned to the office. Deborah looked up and smiled. “Guess you have your work cut out for you now.”

“Well, my first order of business is to assign you a salary. You earned your keep today.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t take on this job expecting to be paid. Father wanted me to do this job. I benefit from the prosperity of the company – same as you. I don’t need a salary.”

“I can’t say that I ever recall your father thinkin’ you needed to work at anything. Leastwise, he never told me.”

“That can’t be right. We used to talk about it all the time. He knew I couldn’t very well log, but he said many times that everyone in the family needed to pull their weight. So he allowed me to go to school.”

“I don’t suppose I know about that. Your pa talked about how proud he was of your ability to think – especially for a woman.”

She grinned. “That sounds like him.”

“And he loved to indulge you. But, anyway, everyone needs some spending money,” Uncle Arjan countered. “What say you let me pay you a dollar a day? If you find you need more money than that – say you want to buy something special – just come and see me. Agreed?”

Deborah considered it for a moment and nodded. “Very well.” She got up and kissed her uncle on the cheek. “You are awfully good to me – to Mama, too. I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

His face reddened slightly. “You and your mama mean the world to me – the boys, too. Wouldn’t expect anyone else to take care of you.”

“Even so, I’m grateful. Mama’s peace of mind is important to me. I know she’s come to depend on you and the boys a great deal. Hopefully, by taking this job, I can pay you back in a small way.”

He laughed and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Little gal, you are more than payin’ me back by what you did here today. You know how this business works, and you know how the world works because of all that schoolin’. You benefited us all today, and I’m right proud of you. Just wait until I tell your brothers. They’ll be dancing a jig.”

“I doubt G. W. will dance a jig anytime soon.” She frowned and looked up at her uncle. “Have you ever talked to him about Papa’s death?”

Uncle Arjan grew thoughtful. “I’ve tried. He knows I don’t hold him responsible. Doesn’t change the fact that the boy holds himself in that place.”

“I know. Mama said she worries about him for that very reason. I keep praying for him, but I sure wish I could do something to encourage him – get his mind off the fact that the anniversary of the accident is coming up.”

“He’s got to come through this himself, Deborah. You can’t force a man to make peace with his own self. Give him time. He’ll come around sooner or later.”

But Deborah wasn’t at all convinced that he would.

–––––––

Lizzie brought Deborah a glass of lemonade and plopped down on a chair opposite her. “Goodness, but it’s hot down here.”

Deborah laughed. “Yes, and this is only July. Just wait for August.”

“I can’t imagine it getting any worse.” Lizzie dabbed her damp forehead with the edge of her apron.

“I suppose Mama had you busy in the garden all morning?”

“Only for a little while. She was worried about me and the heat, so she wouldn’t let me work for long. I tell you, I feel positively useless to you all. I really shouldn’t have come.”

Sampling the lemonade, Deborah nearly choked. “What? Why are you saying that?”

Lizzie shrugged. “It’s just that everyone has their duties and tasks – everyone but me, that is. I’m just living here and eating your food and doing nothing. Your mother wouldn’t even take money from me for my keep.”

“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Deborah replied with a grin. “Goodness, but she would never want it said that she charged a guest.”

“But I wasn’t thinking of it that way. I just wanted to help out.”

“Don’t fret about it. Mother is glad you came. She said there is nothing she can imagine worse than marrying a man you do not love. One of her sisters did that and it proved to be nothing but misery. Mama often uses Aunt Alva as an example.”

“Why did she marry a man she didn’t love?”

“To help the family. Her husband was from Holland and had a great deal of wealth. When he told her they would live there instead of America, she was very unhappy. Mama says her letters are always full of sorrow.”

“How sad.”

“Exactly so. Which is why it’s good that you are here and not back in Philadelphia, playing the role of Mrs. Stuart Albright and sending
me
letters full of sorrow.”

Lizzie shuddered at the thought. “Even the Texas heat is worth enduring to avoid that. I do wish, however, that Father would write. I can’t help but wonder how Mother took the news. I’d imagine she was quite humiliated.”

“Or extremely happy,” Deborah offered. “After all, she’s the one who believes women needn’t marry or otherwise have a man in their affairs. She might have been miffed at first, but she’s probably greatly satisfied by now.”

“I just hope she isn’t too mad. You know how awful she can be when she gets spiteful. Her tirades can be worse than a child’s. I’m glad to have the distance between us.” Lizzie watched as Deborah downed the lemonade. “Would you like more?” she asked.

“No, I’m fine. I need to get back to work on these ledgers. Some of this,” she waved to a pile of papers, “is quite confusing. I feel I should have schooled in some foreign language just to interpret it, but I don’t know which one might have helped.”

Lizzie smiled. “Well, before you get back to work, maybe you can help me with this problem of feeling useless. Might there be some sort of job I could take on? Something I could do to benefit the family?”

“Goodness, no,” Deborah said. “They really don’t look highly on women working in these parts. It’s different for me because this is my family. For you, however, it would be scandalous.”

“I know my talents are few, but there must be something. What about taking in washing?”

“And see men’s unmentionables?” Deborah asked in mock horror. “We’d get six weeks of sermons on women of low character from the Bible, only to be punctuated by the preacher standing at the front of the congregation letting a bit of salt run through his hands to remind us of poor Lot’s wife. I can just hear it now.” Deborah cleared her throat and lowered the timbre of her voice:

“ ‘Women are to be protected and sheltered from the unpleasant things of life. When they stray from such protection, they give themselves over to the influence of Jezebel, Delilah, and Sapphira. Let us remember this, and tremble.’ ”

Lizzie couldn’t help giggling. “You really do that quite well. Perhaps you should take up preaching.”

Deborah rolled her eyes. “That is a whole other set of sermons. Truth be told,” she said, settling her gaze on Lizzie, “I agree for the most part. I think that in fighting against the boundaries set before us, often we forsake the good that could be had. I rather like the idea of being sheltered and protected from certain things. Other things . . . well, I suppose I would like to see some matters changed. But I don’t want it enough to raise the ruckus your mother does.”

“Me either,” Lizzie agreed. “The very thought of going to jail for something like the cause of women voting is appalling.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that down here – at least not for a while. Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about having nothing to do. My mother is good about keeping folks busy. I heard her mention that the Texas blacks are just about ready for picking.”

“Texas blacks?”

“Grapes. You’ll find that every month there is something new to harvest around here, and my mother has recipes for it all. I wouldn’t fret about being idle. Once you get accustomed to the heat, you’ll be busy enough.”

Lizzie reached to take the glass. “Are you sure you won’t have another?”

Deborah shook her head. “No. I’d probably just spill it all over everything, and then all my hard work would be for naught. Please tell Mama thanks for me.”

“I will.”

Lizzie bounded out the door just in time to run headlong into G. W. He reached out to take hold of her, but Lizzie still managed to fall against his chest and step on his foot. He continued to hold on to her as she regained her balance.

“I’m so sorry, G. W. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here. Your mother was out in the garden and . . . well, I just didn’t think.”

“No harm done. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She looked up and smiled. “How about you? Did I crush your foot?”

“A little bitty thing like you?” His drawl was thick and more pronounced.

She laughed. “If I keep eating fried green tomatoes and ham steaks, I won’t be little for long. Gracious, but your Mama can cook.”

“She sure can. I’m sure if you ask, she’ll learn ya.”

“When I was in town, Mrs. Greeley told me a girl has to be able to cook a decent meal in order to catch a decent man,” Lizzie said without thinking.

G. W. surprised her by laughing out loud. “Miss Lizzie, you could do nothing but burn water and still catch a man.”

Deborah appeared in the doorway. “What’s all the fuss? A person can’t even hear themselves think with all this noise.”

Lizzie felt her face grow hot. “I . . . well . . . I came rushing out the door . . . and . . .”

“She threw herself at me – plain and simple,” G. W. said, still grinning.

Deborah shrugged. “Well, it’s about time someone did. You need a wife, G. W. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have work to do. Maybe you two could take your courting outside.” She closed the door, leaving G. W. and Lizzie to stare in stunned silence.

Finally, Lizzie gathered her wits and hurried away.
After all this
time
, she thought,
you would think I’d be used to Deborah’s outspoken
ways. But just when I think she can’t surprise me any more, she goes and
says something like that.

C
HAPTER
8

Euphanel Vandermark was always at her chores long before anyone else came downstairs. She liked this time of day, when the house was cool and quiet. She could pray and seek God’s direction for her life. She would put on a pot of coffee, then start the bacon to fry. While it cooked, she would cut potatoes or mix corn dodgers. Once the bacon was cooked, she’d pull it from the cast-iron skillet and put the potatoes or dodgers into the grease. By this time, she would have asked special blessings on all of her children and kin and would be ready to go down her list of praises. With the coffee perking and the food set aside, she would go out to the hen house to feed the chickens and gather eggs.

It was the way she’d lived her life most every morning for the last twenty-some years. At forty-three, she felt well seasoned in the duties of motherhood and keeping house. Having married at sixteen, Euphanel had spent far more of her life married with children of her own than alone. She supposed that’s why it was so hard now to be a widow with children who no longer needed her as they once had. Oh, they still enjoyed her cooking and were grateful to have the cleaning done, but there were no bedtime stories with little ones or moments of lingering in the arms of her man.

She pushed aside the sad thoughts and opened the gate to the chicken yard. She threw out some feed as she called, “Chick, chick, chick. Come along, little chicks.”

With the hens and their broods busy eating, Euphanel could quickly gather the eggs – what there were to gather. The hens were laying light, no doubt because of the heat. She made her way toward the house with Decatur and Jasper now at her side. Dottie, the larger of the two milk cows, lowed miserably as if to remind her that she was in need of Euphanel’s attention even if no one else was.

“Don’t you worry, Dottie girl. Sissy will be here soon.” This drew the attention of the other cow, which seemed to think it necessary to join in. Euphanel laughed. “Now, Dorothy, you just keep Dottie company, and we’ll see you both in a few minutes.” The dogs looked up hopefully at the sound of her voice. Euphanel shifted her basket and leaned down to give Jasper a rub behind the ears. “Yes, you’ll be taken care of, as well.”

By the time she arrived in the kitchen, Euphanel was surprised to find Lizzie and Deborah setting the table.

“Boys will be right down,” Deborah told her mother. “Any sign of Uncle Arjan?”

“I didn’t even think to look,” she replied, putting the basket of eggs on the counter. “Guess my mind was otherwise occupied.”