The Captive Within (A Prairie Heritage, Book 4) (23 page)

BOOK: The Captive Within (A Prairie Heritage, Book 4)
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Liáng shook his head but affably added, “If you’d said,
‘say, d’ya play checkers?’ I could help you out, Mr. er,
Jones
.”

“Ha! You have met our Mr. Flynn.”

Liáng settled himself in the other chair in the small living
room. “Yes. When I got off the train in Corinth to look for Mei-Xing Li.”

At O’Dell’s shocked expression, Liáng added, “I believe I
arrived in Corinth about the same time you arrived in Seattle. We have been,
shall I say, working at cross purposes?”

He studied the Pinkerton agent. A lesser man might have died
from the beating he’d sustained. Or perhaps it was truly only God’s grace that
he was still alive.

He saw the questions in O’Dell’s eyes begin to bubble over.
“Why don’t I talk for a while and you stop me when you have questions.”

O’Dell studied him a minute and then nodded.

“I told this same story to your friends at Palmer House,”
Liáng said, gazing out the window. “It is the tale of two
families . . .”


Gradually fevers dissipated, appetites returned, and wan
faces appeared at the breakfast table one by one. Coughs lingered, and Tabitha
was firm that Billy, Marit, and Will were not to be admitted to the big house
until all coughs and fevers were gone—after which every square inch of the
house would be thoroughly scrubbed and disinfected.

“Young lady, you have done as well as any trained nurse
could have done! I give you great credit for that,” Doctor Murphy praised when
he came to check on the progress of the patients. “With nurses in short supply
at present, you have been a god-send to your friends.”

Tabitha flushed under his praise.

“And you may well have saved Mr. Flynn’s life,” he confided.
“He is no longer robust, and such an illness is often a death knell.”

Life at Palmer House began to resume its usual rhythm and
order. Although Tabitha never succumbed to the influenza, she had worn herself
thin. For the first night in many, she did not feel the need to make the rounds
of sick rooms. She slept soundly and was amazed and embarrassed to find the day
half gone when she finally woke.

“How could you let me sleep so long!” she hissed at Breona
in the kitchen.

“Aye, an’ ’tis servin’ ye well, Miss Tabitha,” Breona
grinned. The two women stared at each other a few silent moments, understanding
and new respect flowing between them.

After a flurry of cleaning, the outcasts were again allowed
in the big house. Billy, Marit, and Will joined Joy and Grant and the
inhabitants of the big house at the breakfast table. Two long weeks had passed.
Rose opened her Bible and smiled around the table with love and appreciation.
Fourteen pairs of eyes smiled back.

“The great blessing of family is never so dear or more
appreciated as it is after such a trial,” she said quietly. Heads nodded, and
more than a few voices whispered “amen.”

They had weathered the storm together and come out on the
other side unified. Finally the dream of Palmer House was becoming a reality.

~~**~~

Chapter 34
(Journal Entry, February 26, 1910)

Our dear Flinty is still weak, but he is in such good
spirits and cheers the entire house. He is spending much of his recovery in the
comfort of his favorite old chair in the great room.

How the girls of the house pamper and fuss over him! They
are always fetching blankets and books and tea, keeping the fire built up, and
generally spoiling the old gent.

He nods off frequently, but between naps he can be found
grinning and thanking his gentle nurses with a hearty, “The Lor’ bless ya,
miss!” and “Yessir! Yer jes’ what th’ doctor ordered!” How precious is the
sound of laughter and tall tales heard so often these days!

I must say, dear Lord, that Tabitha is a changed woman.
She, too, spends many hours perched on Flinty’s ottoman, listening raptly to
his stories. I cannot explain it, Lord, but she has softened and, in a deep
way, has fully opened her heart to our convalescing gent.

Indeed, through this fortnight of illness and hardship
Tabitha has bloomed. She has even forged other relationships that, I confess,
are quite amazing. The most notable is a friendship with Breona.

I see these two very different women smiling and agreeing
with each other and then I know, Father, you have done great things!


Mei-Xing sat at the little table with her New Testament. She
had retired to her room alone to ‘take a rest.’ Rather than lie down, she
pulled the little book from her purse and stared at it.

She had not opened it for days, perhaps weeks. Instead, she
and Su-Chong had lived in a make-believe world where only the two of them
existed.

But they could not stay here in this fantasy forever.
Su-Chong was again healthy and whole. The forced inactivity was not to his
liking. And he could not steal their food and supplies forever.

She sensed his unrest and noted the dark mood when it
settled on him. In those moments she heard a still, small voice calling to her.

How was she to respond to that voice after what she had
done? She laid her head atop the little book and wept in shame and sorrow.


 “How are you today, my friend?” Minister Liáng greeted
O’Dell.

O’Dell was bundled against the misting rain, walking
steadily about the enclosed garden behind the bungalow. His splinted right hand
hung in a sling about his neck; his gloved left hand gripped his cane with
determination.

“Fighting boredom on two fronts,” O’Dell replied tersely.
“Miss Greenbow insists on a strict regimen of exercise and fresh air.
Tiresome
.
The remainder of my time is spent sitting, reading, and thinking.
Maddening
!
I need to be
out there
, investigating Mei-Xing and Su-Chong’s families
so that we can find Mei-Xing.”

Unvoiced but written across the lines on his face was fear.
Fear that Mei-Xing was already beyond his help.

Liáng nodded. “I understand. Perhaps I can provide more
information today. I have held back some things, not wishing to add to your
frustration, knowing that you were unable to act on anything. And today I bring
a bit more news.”

O’Dell jerked his head toward the house. “Let’s go in.”

“I have told you about Wei Lin Chen’s nephew, Bao, and his
role in sending Mei-Xing to Denver,” Liáng said as he shook the rain off his
coat and took his seat.

O’Dell’s eyes narrowed. He had never seen this man Bao, but
he despised him nonetheless.

Liáng looked cautiously at O’Dell. “What I haven’t told you
is that much of my information comes directly
from
Bao.”

If possible, O’Dell’s eyes grew harder.

“You see, I meet with Bao every week.”

“Why?” O’Dell’s voice grated on the single word.

Liáng studied the man opposite him for several minutes. “Do
you believe in forgiveness, Mr. O’Dell?”

“Not for men like him.”

“I see.” Liáng nodded thoughtfully. “Do you believe in
regret?”

O’Dell opened his mouth and then closed it and said nothing.

“Have you never regretted something you have done? Tried to
undo it?”

“Some things cannot be fixed,” O’Dell snapped.

“I agree. That is why,” he said softly, “all of us need a
savior.”

At O’Dell’s snort of derision, Liáng changed the subject.
“But that topic is, perhaps, for another day. Today I wish to tell you news
that Bao gave me this morning.”

“You
trust
him?”

“I find that I do. As you know, Fang-Hua Chen sent Bao to Denver
to arrange for Morgan and Su-Chong’s escape and to bring Su-Chong back to his
mother. Fang-Hua made it clear to Bao that he must not fail. Nevertheless,
Su-Chong escaped from Bao’s men. Bao was prudent to fear for his life and that
of his wife and the child she carried.”

“Too bad.”

“It
is
too bad,” Liáng replied, his voice dropping,
“but both his wife and his child died in childbirth in December.” He looked
steadily at O’Dell who finally had to look away.

“Bao believed their deaths were just punishment for the evil
he helped perpetrate on Mei-Xing. He felt that to make complete atonement for
his shame, he should tell her parents what he—what he and Fang-Hua Chen—had
done. After he did that, he intended to kill himself. More justice, you see.”

O’Dell said nothing but watched and listened, a frown on his
brow.

“The servants saw him standing across the street from the
Li’s home. I was visiting Mr. and Mrs. Li. I should mention that they are
members of my church.”

He let that sink in for a moment. “I went out to speak to
Bao and found he was crazed with grief and guilt. He told me everything that
day.”

Liáng glanced up at O’Dell. “Well, you must understand that
I could not believe it! I thought he was mad!”

He shook his head, remembering. “But the more he talked, the
stronger was the ring of truth upon his words. He wished me to tell Mr. and
Mrs. Li, but I convinced him that to confess all to Mei-Xing’s parents would be
cruel and unwise at this time. Instead, I would go to this place he spoke of, this
Corinth in Colorado and, if God gave me favor, I would bring Mei-Xing home.”

“Why would you not tell her parents?”

“Would you have me tell a father and mother that their
daughter is alive when I have no proof? Worse, that she has been defiled and
debased? I could not be so heartless a man.”

Liáng raised his eyebrows. “And you perhaps do not grasp the
dynamics of the situation. These are two powerful families, Mr. O’Dell,
accustomed to meting out justice on their own terms. They have men who have
sworn allegiance to them. One might call them armies, you understand.”

He sighed deeply. “What do you suppose will happen the day
Jinhai Li confronts Wei Lin Chen with the truth of his daughter’s
disappearance? What if Mei-Xing herself were to return from the dead and
testify to what was done to her?”

O’Dell shook his head slowly and then quietly muttered,
“War.”

Liáng nodded in agreement. “Yes. And there is more. Mr. and
Mrs. Li were broken after they believed Mei-Xing died by her own hand. Broken
and filled with guilt. In their pain and brokenness, they sought for peace of
some kind. One of their household told them of Jesus and sent them to speak to
me. They gave their lives to the Savior, Mr. O’Dell. They belong to him now.”

O’Dell heard what Liáng was saying, but he couldn’t get past
the first sentence.
Broken. They were broken
. He pushed at the words but
they would not go. They whispered in the back and corners of his mind even as
O’Dell struggled to hear and grasp all Liáng said.

“What I mean to tell you today are two things, my friend.
The first is that Jinhai Li would not go to war against the Chens. He is an
honorable man but he is also a changed man. However, that does not mean that
Wei Lin Chen could allow such an accusation to stand. His ‘honor’ would not
permit it. Do you follow me?”

O’Dell did. “It would be a bloodbath,” he whispered.

“Very possibly.”

O’Dell swept a hand across his eyes. “And the other thing?”

Liáng roused himself. “Yes, the other thing. I said before,
what
if Mei-Xing were to testify to what was done to her
? Bao believes that Wei
Lin Chen does not know of his wife’s actions. Fang-Hua is a powerful and
wealthy figure in her own right. Nevertheless, the family is all important. Her
disgrace and dishonor would be Wei Lin Chen’s disgrace and dishonor. She would
never permit this.”

“Why does this Bao think Wei Lin Chen is ignorant of his
wife’s actions?” O’Dell demanded.

“Because Fang-Hua secretly—without Wei Lin Chen’s
knowledge—sent men to Denver to seek out and destroy Mei-Xing.”

O’Dell’s sharp intake of breath jangled his ribs with pain.
He felt his heart crush; he could not breathe. “
They
took her.” He
choked on the words. “Fang-Hua’s men!”

Liáng shot O’Dell a shrewd look “Ah. Then why does Bao
report that Fang-Hua is furious beyond measure? He reports that, after weeks of
searching for her, the men have returned from Denver empty-handed.”

The vise on O’Dell’s heart loosened. With difficulty he
stood up and began pacing, breathing again. “So they did
not
take her.”

“It would seem so.”

“What about Morgan?”

Liáng shook his head emphatically. “Bao knows that Fang-Hua
allowed him to go his way.”

“Who does that leave?”

“Only Su-Chong Chen,” Liáng replied.

~~**~~

Chapter 35
(Journal Entry, March 10, 1910)

Emily’s friend Viola Lind has taken our Gretl under her
wing. She is determined to help Gretl prepare for and secure a position as cook
for a good family. To that end, Gretl is to write out three full weeks of
menus.

Of course, all of us in the house have ideas and we all
wish to see our favorite dishes included. We have placed a chalk board in the
kitchen. Everyone is free to write their suggestions on the board. Gretl will
add the dishes of her choosing to her menus.

This has proven to be great fun! On any given day the
most eclectic list of entrees, side dishes, garnishes, and desserts can be
found on this little board. It is quite amazing, actually, to see the variety.
Marit is helping Gretl by writing out the recipes to her Swedish specialties.

When Viola has approved the final menus, we will take
them to a printer to be set in elegant type and have a number of copies
printed. Viola will present the menus to her friends and acquaintances until a
prospective employer asks to interview Gretl.

Lord, please bless Viola for helping this young woman to
achieve her dream!


While the health of most everyone in the house continued to
improve, a few setbacks did surprise them. Maria and Flora’s coughs and
sniffles returned for several days as did Flinty’s. That same week Grant and
Joy experienced a return of fever and kept to their bed two days.

And after all had recovered and the doctor again declared
the house free of influenza, Breona unexpectedly spiked a high fever
accompanied by sneezing and coughing. Tabitha sent her to her room and called
Doctor Murphy’s office once more.

She kept the fireplace in Breona’s bedroom burning and
attempted to nurse her, but found her patient quite uncooperative. The truth
was that a sick Breona exhibited a foul temper to everyone.

“I don’t believe I have known Breona to even complain of a
cold in the year and a half I have known her,” Joy remarked when Tabitha, in a
huff, reported Breona’s bad behavior to her and to Rose. “And I have never seen
her abed during the day!”

“She is too stubborn to admit to being sick,” Tabitha fumed.
Only her threats that Breona could endanger little Will kept the grumpy but ill
woman moored to her room.

Thankfully, Breona’s illness was short-lived. After a few
days she joined Flinty in the great room to convalesce. She spent one day idling
in a chair near a warm fire before, shrugging off all cautions, she declared
herself “fit as a fiddle” and resumed her duties.


Mei-Xing avoided sleeping or laying in her bed, the site of
her many sins. She lay on the floor of her room, begging God for forgiveness.
She confessed to ignoring the warnings of the Holy Spirit and choosing her own
desires instead. But although she had repented of her sins, her heart still
felt like lead in her breast.

As she withdrew from Su-Chong, he had changed toward her,
too. It was as though, as the fever of their lovemaking had cooled, they had
both stepped back to look at each other, and had not liked what they saw.

Lately when he had gone in the night to steal food he had
also stolen alcohol. The next day he would drink steadily and descend into a
dark and foul mood. Then he would watch her.

Mei-Xing kept as still and as quiet as she could during
those days. Most nights she slept alone, but other nights . . .
he came in the dark and forced himself on her. She endured the act as she had
in Corinth, drawing in on herself, wandering far away in her mind.

Only it was different than in Corinth. There she had been
taken and forced against her will; here she had allowed it to begin. She was as
much at fault as he.

O God! Do you see me? I am filled with shame and grief.
Please . . .


That morning Gretl and Flora delivered breakfast to the
table and rang the small bell used to announce meals. When it was time to eat,
Mr. Wheatley and Flinty had not yet arrived at table.

Rose looked up. Mr. Wheatley stood in the dining room
doorway. Tears streamed down his face.

“Flinty,” he sobbed, placing a gnarled hand on his head in
anguish.

Tabitha leapt to her feet, knocking over her
chair . . .

 

They found Flinty lying on his side, curled under his
blankets, a hand tucked under his pillow. His mouth curved in a slight,
peaceful smile.

Tabitha knelt by the bed and touched his cold face, caressed
his fading red hair. “Oh, my dear old friend! I thought we had saved you!” she
cried, breaking down completely. She remained there, sobbing, until Rose and
Breona gently pulled her away from Flinty’s side.

 

“Heart failure,” the doctor murmured after examining Flinty.
“I believe his old heart just quit.”

Tabitha was in agony. “But he was doing so well! I . . . I
thought he had recovered from the flu!” She wept in Rose’s arms but could not
be consoled. “What did I do wrong? I thought he was going to be fine! I should
have taken better care of him!”

“Now see here, Miss Tabitha!” Doctor Murphy spoke sharply.
“Mr. Flynn did not die from the influenza or from anything lacking in his care.
His heart was old and tired. I’m sure the flu weakened him, but his heart had
simply run its course.”

He cleared his throat. “Now, young lady, if you are going to
be a nurse, you must understand that you will sometimes lose patients. You must
prepare yourself ahead of time to be strong and professional. I expect you to
mourn the loss of your friend, but I will also expect you to adopt the calm
attitude of which I speak.”

Tabitha lifted a wet face from Rose’s shoulder.

The doctor fumbled in his pocket and retrieved a small
pamphlet. “I brought this for you,” he directed, handing the folded paper to
her. “God has given you a calling. I believe you should prayerfully consider
his direction.”

Tabitha stared at the wording on the pamphlet:
Training
School for Nurses, University Hospital, Boulder, Colorado
.


Friends arrived from Corinth to pay their respects to
Flinty, including the Kalbørgs, Sheriff Wyndom, his nephew Luke, and Domingo
Juarez. A large wreath arrived from Arnie and Anna Thoresen.

As for those who lived at Palmer House, they thanked God
with many tears for the time Flinty had spent with them and laid him to rest
with care. Grant delivered the eulogy; Pastor Carmichael spoke fitting words
over Flinty’s grave and prayed for them all.

At dinner following the service, Joy murmured, “We thought
we were saving Flinty from loneliness in Corinth, but how lonely this table
feels without him!”

Tabitha broke down and sobbed, “I can’t forget how I
objected to his coming, how selfish and hard-hearted I was! Oh, I shall miss
him so . . . Please forgive me!”

Breona leaned over and pulled Tabitha to her shoulder.
“Whist? Naught t’ f’rgive, Miss Tabitha.”

~~**~~

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