Song for Silas, A (4 page)

Amy muffled a small groan as she stood up from her cramped position on the milking stool. How excited she and her father had been at the freshening of two more heifers just last month. Now, with only two more cows to go and her back screaming, Amy couldn’t help wondering what they’d been so excited about. The morning milking never hurt her back like the afternoon milking did, and Amy, in her tired state, never stopped to think that the full schedule she kept between the morning and afternoon milking may have something to do with that fact.

The milking and cleanup finally completed, Amy threw her cape over her shoulders and, with head bent to watch every step, she moved carefully across the puddle-strewn yard to the house. Doctor Schaefer was scheduled to see her father sometime that night, and Amy wanted to be present.

Not until Amy was on the porch did she look up to see if Doc’s carriage was in the yard. Although on this rainy night he would probably have come right into the barn, Amy peered through the rain-darkened evening for signs of him and saw none. Satisfied she had finished before he arrived, she went in to check on her father.

Grant sat back against the pillows of his bed and heard the front door open and close. He waited quietly, without calling, knowing Amy would come to check on him as soon as she
was dry. The pain was only a dull ache, but the frustration was ever-present. Having to lie in bed while his daughter did his work was almost more than he could bear.

“Doc should be here anytime, Dad. How about some supper?” Amy spoke as she entered the room and sat down gently on the bed, moving carefully so as not to jar his leg.

“Let’s eat after he comes. First, tell me if there is any trouble with the cows.”

Amy was accustomed to this question. Even when her father had been in great pain, he asked after the cows. He went on before she could answer. “I hate to see you go out in this rain. You didn’t get a chill, I hope.” Amy almost laughed over the fact that he asked about the cows before checking on his daughter. He was like an overanxious mother where those cows were concerned. But considering they were the source of family income, she couldn’t say as she blamed him.

“The cows are fine, including the latest milkers, who are doing great. Everything is closed up for the night, and I did not catch a chill,” Amy recited quickly, hoping she had omitted nothing and that his worries would be eased, but a funny look came over his face.

“Amy, am I driving you nuts?”

Amy was so surprised by this question, she laughed outright. “Dad,” she gasped, “what in the world are you talking about?”

But he did not join in her merriment, and she tried hard to pull a straight face. “When have I ever had trouble milking? If there was a problem, you would be the first to know. And the second you start to drive me crazy, you’ll also be the first to know.”

This brought a small smile to Grant’s face and he asked, “You’re sure everything is fine?”

“Positive.” Amy said with a smile. “How’s the leg?”

“Better, much better. It usually throbs in the night, so I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to me sleeping the days away for a bit longer.”

“Well, as much as I’d like to see you out of that bed, I’ll tell on you in a hurry if you rush things.”

“I’m sure you will. You’re as bossy as your mother was.” They both laughed at this. Maureen Nolan had been the most
un
bossy woman on the face of the earth.

Old Doc Schaefer arrived as Amy was fixing supper. He readily agreed to stay for the meal, and the amount of stomach stretching his binders gave proof that he rarely turned down such offers.

Doc checked Grant over and was pleased to see him progressing so well. Between Amy and the doctor, Grant was able to eat at the kitchen table for the first time in nearly two weeks. Conversation was lighthearted for most of the meal and, having escaped the bed, Grant was in high spirits.

Over coffee and dessert, Doc Schaefer asked a surprising question. “Had you heard? Carltons were robbed last night.”

“Robbed?” Amy was incredulous. “What in the world was there to steal?” Amy’s question was valid. The Carltons had a very small farm and usually had a hard time making it from month to month.

“Well, Harold must have told one too many people he was planning on taking some of that inheritance money from Ruth’s aunt for farm repairs.”

“But Ruth said that money was in the bank.”

“It was until yesterday and then was stolen last night.”

The table was silent as Grant and Amy digested this bit of news. More coffee was served and the three talked on until it was evident Grant had overestimated his strength. The rain had not let up and so as soon as they had Grant settled back in bed, Doc took his leave.

He and Amy talked for a bit but, with the rain continuing, Amy wanted to get out and check the stock one last time before settling in for the evening.

“Amy,” Grant said as she was leaving, “take the shotgun out with you.” Amy’s eyebrows rose in surprise at this, and for a moment she hesitated. “Please, honey, it would make me feel better.”

Amy nodded silently and headed for the door. She realized that until just then she hadn’t even thought of the thieves still being in the area.

The gun felt cold against Amy’s side as she made her way across the yard for a final check on the animals. She tried to squelch the fear she felt as she stepped carefully around the puddles, but the desire to do double checks on the shadows was a temptation. Psalm 56:3 came to mind as she moved toward the barn: “What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.” After thinking of these words, Amy knew instant comfort.

The rain was not a hard downpour, but a steady shower. The warmth and familiar smells of the barn were an added comfort as Amy stepped within. She leaned the gun against a post while lighting the lantern.

The wind seemed to pick up as did the rain as she walked along the stalls. Amy was angry with herself for the fear she felt. She knew God was watching over her and once again claimed the verse in Psalms. Everything was in order and Amy had just blown out the lamp and picked up the gun, when the door was opened wide.

Having just ridden in the dark, Silas was a few steps into the barn before his eyes made out a lone figure pointing a gun at him. He froze and felt his heartbeat accelerate. He had wondered how he would be greeted at the Nolan farm, but this was ridiculous.

“State your business, mister, and do it quickly.” The voice speaking from behind the gun was high-pitched with fear, but Silas recognized it.

“I’ll state my business, Amy Nolan! You’ve got exactly two seconds to get that gun pointed in another direction, or I’ll do it for you!” His voice was gruff with relief, and he was just a bit angry.

The gun lowered slowly. “Silas?” The voice went up still another octave.

“Silas?” Silas mimicked in a high imitation of her voice.

With that the words came pouring out as she tried to light the lamp. “Oh, Silas! Oh no, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I held a gun on you. You scared me and you see there was this robbery and well, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in.” The words stopped as abruptly as they had started when the lamp was finally lit and turned high. Amy could only stare at the drenched man before her. Silas stared back. Amy watched the flash of white in his beard as a slow smile started.

“Hi.” Silas’ voice was soft now, and deep.

“You mean you’re speaking to me?” Amy asked, her tone dry. Silas’ laughter echoed in the barn, and he reached to give her a quick hug.

“I take it from your reaction, I’ve arrived ahead of your uncle’s letter?”

“There’s been no word on your coming, but I’m so glad you’re here.” Amy’s voice was sincere and childlike all at once.

“How is your dad?”

“He’s doing better, and he’ll be thrilled to see you.”

They stared at each other for a few more minutes, Amy feeling like she could hug him again but remembering she was not 14 anymore. Silas thought how grown up she was.

They worked together to stable Silas’ horse and, as they made their way across to the house, Silas had the odd sensation he was coming home.

“You would think the boss could have put this off for one night. I’m freezing.”

The man to whom he spoke only grunted in reply and continued to stare out into the rain. Within ten minutes, coming from the direction of town rode a black-cloaked figure on an equally black mount. The men stood silently as the horse and rider entered the broken-down barn that had stood abandoned for years.

Without dismounting, the rider spoke. “You have the money?” The voice was husky and low, and the two men within the barn tried to make out the face of their mysterious employer. The turned-up collar of the cloak, along with the low brimmed hat, kept the rider’s identity as dark as the night.

Wordlessly, bags were exchanged. A large sack was handed up to the rider and quickly concealed beneath the cloak.

Anticipating the next move, the two men caught small bags as they sailed from atop the horse.

The chink of coins as the bags landed in the outstretched hands was the only sound made as the two men watched the rider turn the mount and disappear into the wet gloom.

“Who do you suppose he is?”

“I don’t have a clue, but if we start asking questions the money will stop,” the other man spoke as he tucked the moneybag into his belt. “And
that
is a risk I’m not willing to take.”

Silas lay on his back in bed. The vaulted ceiling was familiar, as were the smells and sights of his attic bedroom. The room was simply furnished with a bed, washstand, and dresser. Moonlight streamed through a small, yellow-curtained window and shone on Silas’ clothes where they hung from a hook on the wall. Next to the hanging clothes was a small wooden chair. For Silas there was a strange sense of comfort in seeing everything as he remembered.

Silas had the same feeling with Grant and Amy, even though there had been changes. The three of them had taken about an hour to get reacquainted, and Silas was amazed at how welcome they had made him feel. It was as if they had never been separated.

As he lay musing, Silas remembered that Amy had said something about a robbery. He would have to ask her tomorrow. Right now he was too tired to think. He knew the morning would bring hard work—not that he had ever been afraid of work, but getting a good night’s sleep was beginning to blot out all other thought.

He knew this was where God wanted him, and it gave him a feeling of contentment as he drifted off to sleep that could only be matched by that of the two people readying for sleep downstairs.

Amy had never prepared for bed so slowly. Her mind kept going over and over the events of the last two hours when Silas had appeared in the barn, and then seeing her look of surprise mirrored on Grant’s when Silas’ large frame had filled her father’s bedroom doorway.

Silas carried with him an air of confidence that brought with it a sense that all was going to be well.

Four years ago God had given Amy a big brother, for six weeks, in the form of Silas Cameron. Silas had come to them like an armored knight in days of old, at a time when their pain and confusion over losing their wife and mother was so great, they didn’t believe their world would ever be normal and happy again.

Quiet and sensitive, Silas had offered comfort and stability in his warm, gentle way. Amy had never known a better listener. She smiled to herself as she began to brush her hair. Silas was back, and everything was going to be just fine.

For the first time in over two weeks Grant’s mind was not on the throbbing in his leg as he tried to fall asleep.

Silas Cameron! Who would have thought God’s answer to his prayers would be Silas Cameron? Grant had never even thought of him as he had prayed and asked God to help them through this time of hurt.

But he was here, and Grant knew all was going to be well. Amy had been an angel, but Grant could see the extra work was weighing on her. She was used to the long hours and even the milking, but not the handling of the milk cans and all of her regular work besides.

Grant had also been more than a little worried about borrowing from savings to hire field help. But the crops had to be planted, and as frustrating as Grant’s helplessness was it didn’t change that fact.

If the crops did not go in, money from savings would be needed to buy feed for his stock. He would be forced to buy through the winter and until next years’ harvest—a very unsettling thought.

“Silas can do the planting and take over the milking and hauling. I’ll get back on my feet, and by the fall I’ll be off my back and ready for harvest.…” These were the thoughts with which Grant fell asleep.