Through the Deep Waters (32 page)

Dinah couldn’t have hurt her more if she’d poked her with the point of a freshly sharpened pencil. Ruthie turned her back on Dinah and tossed her nightgown over her head. “We’re late for breakfast. Hurry now.”

The scrambling noises behind her let her know Dinah was taking her advice. As Ruthie brushed her hair and twisted it into a bun, she gave herself a stern talking-to. Mr. Ackerman and Dinah trusted her. So no matter how temptation clawed at her, she would not peek at their love notes. She wouldn’t!

Dinah

Saturday passed so slowly Dinah wondered if it would ever draw to a close. She yearned for her bed—between the ball and staying up to write her letter to Mr. Ackerman, she’d gotten very little sleep the night before. She also yearned for Sunday, when she would see Mr. Ackerman again, would sit beside him in church service, and would exchange a missive with him.

As she worked, forcing her tired limbs to perform her given tasks efficiently, she pondered what he would say in his letter. Would it be very short, like hers, or longer? Would he speak of the ball or of chickens or of other things—more personal things? Or would it hold apologies for his impulsive idea and a request to forget the whole thing? The wondering and worry had tangled her insides into knots, and she wanted to crawl in a hole and hide.

The clock chimed twelve, alerting her to lunchtime. She set aside her cleaning supplies and made her way toward the lunch counter for her noon meal, but halfway down the hall the intrusive clang of a beckon-me bell brought her steps to a halt. Dinah sighed and changed direction. She located a gentleman guest peeking out his door with a look of consternation on his face. She hurried the last few steps.

“Yes, sir? What can I do for you?”

He scowled and flapped a newspaper at her. “This is missing the center pages. Which means part of an article—one which I found particularly interesting—is absent. Kindly retrieve a complete paper for me.” He thrust the crumpled sheets of newsprint at her, then closed the door in her face.

Dinah hurried to the front desk where a supply of daily papers usually sat
on the counter. But the spot was empty. She summoned the desk clerk. “Are there more newspapers somewhere?”

“They’ve all been claimed, Dinah. Lots of people are interested in that story about the Supreme Court calling the Civil Rights Act of 1875 unconstitutional. Some are downright riled over it.”

She sighed. “The guest in room 112 requested a newspaper. I suppose I’ll have to tell him none are available.” Considering his brusque demand, she didn’t look forward to disappointing him.

“Wait.” The clerk rummaged beneath the counter and then pressed a fifty-cent piece into her hand. “Take this and purchase a handful more at the newspaper office. I’ll go up to the room and let the guest know you’ll have a fresh paper for him soon.”

Although she’d lose her lunch break running the errand, Dinah didn’t dare fail to meet a guest’s specific request. “All right. Thank you.”

As she headed for the porch, an idea struck. If she had to go to town anyway and she was using her own lunch break, why not perform an errand or two for herself while she was out? The morning’s doldrums faded momentarily as she dashed upstairs to retrieve her little money pouch. The cloth bag with its drawstring closure was weighty, filled with all her earnings for the past months as well as the small amount of money left over from Chicago. Uncertain how much her purchases would cost, she looped the pouch’s string over her wrist and took off for town at an eager pace.

Amos

Amos arrived at church early. The earliest he’d ever arrived. Even before any other parishioners arrived. He settled onto his bench in the quiet sanctuary and released a sigh of relief to be off of his feet. His hip ached from the rapid pace he’d forced upon himself, but he didn’t regret hurrying. By arriving early, he might be able to steal a moment or two of time with Dinah before the
service started. What was a little pain compared to the pleasure of gazing into her pretty face and hearing her soft, timid voice greet him?

Inside the cover of his Bible, he carried the letter he’d written after the ball. He still regretted the plain paper on which it was written, but her next letter would be more appealing. Saturday morning he’d gone into town and bought a packet of fine stationery decorated with a cluster of violets tied with yellow ribbon. Although the clerk raised his eyebrows in silent surprise at Amos’s choice, causing him to fidget in embarrassment, he bought the pretty paper anyway, not because it suited him, but because it suited her. And it pleased him to think of pleasing her.

Now he wriggled on the bench, waiting for her to arrive. His hands trembled, and he clutched them tightly around the leather cover of his Bible. Without conscious thought he closed his eyes and lapsed into prayer.
Dear Lord, I’m as nervous as a chicken in a den of foxes. Calm my spirit. I believe You gave me this idea to get to know Dinah better, and I trust You to guide our friendship. You know my heart’s desire concerning Dinah, my Father, but most of all my heart’s desire is to follow Your will. So let me only go where You would have me go
.

Even as he prayed, he recognized how much he wanted God to bless him with a wife. How much he wanted to be blessed with Dinah as his wife. Surely God wouldn’t allow this deep affection for her to sprout if Amos wasn’t meant to act upon it. He bent forward over his Bible, finishing his prayer.
Your will, Father. Let me seek Your will above all …

Footsteps on the stairs alerted him to others arriving. He sat upright and aimed his gaze at the double doors, which opened and closed dozens of times, each time bringing in a cool breeze along with clusters of worshipers. But not until it was nearly time for the service to begin did the young women wearing uniforms from the Clifton Hotel finally enter. When he spotted the familiar black-and-white uniforms, his heart leaped. And when Dinah stepped into the room with her sweet face aimed in the direction of their bench, his heart seemed to lodge in his throat. He read in her eyes the same eagerness thrumming through his veins.

He scooted over, allowing her to sit on the end rather than having to climb over his knees. Not until she’d seated herself in a graceful motion that made his pulse trip did he notice she cradled a book in her arms. Its black leather binding and gold-tipped pages identified it even before he saw the scrolling, stamped words
Holy Bible
on its cover. If he’d thought her lovely before, her beauty increased tenfold in that moment. Her possession of God’s Word seemed to grant approval of him pursuing her as a life’s mate.

Thank You, Lord
.

She placed her Bible on the bench between them as the congregation rose to sing. He laid his Bible next to hers. Although his cover looked even more battered and worn next to the crisp newness of hers, it pleased him to see the two Bibles side by side. He lifted his attention to the front of the church as Preacher Mead announced their opening hymn. As one, the worshipers burst forth in song. “ ‘How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is laid for your faith in His excellent Word!’ ”

Amos shook his head, marveling at how the hymn’s first line seemed to point toward the Bibles butted against each other on the bench. In his mind, they presented a picture of oneness, and his chest went so tight he could hardly draw enough breath to sing along with his favorite hymn.

As usual, Preacher Mead delivered a biblically based sermon that spoke truth. But Amos had trouble staying focused, aware of Dinah painstakingly turning the crisp pages of her Bible in search of the references on which the minister drew. Having been raised in church and participating in Bible reading at home with his parents from the time he was old enough to read the words for himself, he was as familiar with the contents of his Bible as he was with his own reflection. He battled a strong urge to help her locate the books and verses mentioned, but knowing she’d learn faster if she sought them out herself, he kept his hands to himself.

After the closing prayer, in unison he and Dinah sat back on the bench. As parishioners filed down the aisle and out the door, they opened the covers of their Bibles and withdrew folded sheets of paper. His hand trembled as he held his letter to her, and the pages pinched between her fingers fluttered, too.
Lifting his gaze from the letters to her face, he caught her biting on the corner of her lower lip.

He formed a quavery smile and bobbed his letter. “This is for you. Is that for me?”

She nodded and pushed the letter toward him.

He took hers, and she reached for his. Not until her fingers closed on it did she finally look at him. Her cheeks bore rosy circles and apprehension widened her eyes. She swallowed, her shoulders lifting into a pose of protectiveness. “I-I’m not much of a writer. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”

He shook his head, touched by her concern. “I can’t imagine being disappointed by you, Miss Hubley.” He slid her letter into his Bible, continuing to offer a smile he hoped would set her at ease. “I hope you won’t be disappointed with mine. My penmanship …” He rubbed the underside of his nose and chuckled. “I didn’t get very high marks on that in school.”

To his delight her lips tipped into a shy smile. She placed his letter in her Bible, then lay her open palm on the cover, as if shielding it. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’ve …” She met his gaze, and although her face still held its embarrassed flush, a hint of boldness entered her expression. “I’ve never received a letter before. I’m eager to read yours, but I’ll have to wait until I’m finished with my work today.”

He took her final comment as a hint she needed to return to the hotel. Although reluctant to part company already, he pushed to his feet, his stiff hip making him clumsy and slow. Dinah rose as well and stepped into the aisle. Together, they followed the last few straggling worshipers into the yard. The cool breeze nipped at them, and she hugged herself, locking her Bible between her folded arms and the white bib of her apron.

She angled a timid grin at him. “I’ll put another letter—a longer one, I promise—under the cushion for you tomorrow morning.”

He liked the way the sunshine brought out the amber highlights in her hair, the way she crinkled her nose as she squinted against the sun’s bright beams, even the way she hugged her Bible, as if she held something precious. If they hadn’t been standing in a churchyard in full sunlight with more than a dozen townspeople nearby as witnesses, he might be tempted to steal a kiss
from her. Ma would be mortified to know he was thinking such things on Sunday morning.

He took a backward step. “I’ll be sure to look for it. And I’ll leave one for you, too.” The other Clifton Hotel workers were already in their buggy, and they all seemed to be watching him and Dinah. Another hitching step put a few more inches between them. He pointed at the buggy with his chin. “You’d best skedaddle—your carriage is waiting.”

She flicked a look in the direction of the conveyance, and a scowl marred her sweet face. The scowl pleased him even more than a smile would have. She wasn’t eager to leave his company, either.