Love Finds a Home (Anthologies) Page 7

  Their last days on the train had been rather quiet. Glenna wanted David to tell her more about his past, but he thought it best to wait until they were heading to Idaho City in the wagon. David had spent a lot of time reading his Bible and praying, and she’d done the same. Maybe it would make a difference when they did take the time to talk things out.

  Glenna found a seat inside the train station, where she would wait with their luggage while David went to the livery stable for a wagon. Butterflies played tag in her stomach whenever she thought about the days ahead. Would she and David ever be able to communicate? Could she find the courage to tell him what was truly in her heart? Would their pasts always lie between them like a barbed wire fence, or could they use those terrible things to build a firm foundation for their marriage and David’s ministry?

  Glenna’s head jerked up when David touched her arm. “Ready to go?”

  She offered him a hesitant smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  David loaded their suitcases and the supplies he’d purchased for the trip into the back of the wagon, then covered it all with a canvas tarp. He went around to help Glenna into her seat, but to his surprise, she was already sitting there with a strange look on her face. He cast her a sidelong glance as he climbed into his own seat and took up the reins. “All set?”

  She merely nodded in reply.

  They rode without conversation for nearly an hour, the silence broken only by the steady clip-clop of the horses’ hooves over the rutted trail leading them northward. The warm afternoon sun beat down on their heads, and David began to pray for traveling mercies on this trip which would take a day and a half.

  “The landscape here in Idaho is much different than the plains of Nebraska,” Glenna said, breaking into David’s prayer.

  “That’s right. Lots of tall, rugged hills surrounding the area.”

  A gentle sigh escaped her lips. “I’ve never been this far west. It’s beautiful.”

  He smiled. She liked the land. That was a good sign. Yes, a very good sign.

  “Will you tell me about your past now?” Glenna asked suddenly. If their marriage was ever going to work, she really did need to know more about this husband of hers, even if it wasn’t all to her liking.

  David tipped his head. “I suppose it is time I tell you.”

  Glenna leaned back in her seat, making herself as comfortable as possible, while David began his story. “I was born in Ames, Iowa. When I was sixteen, my parents and younger brother, Dan, were killed.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was a fire. Our whole house burned down, and they were all inside.”

  Glenna gasped. “How awful! Were you in the house too?”

  He shook his head. “I was spending the night at my cousin Jake’s. I didn’t even know about the fire until the next morning. I came home expecting some of Mom’s delicious buttermilk flapjacks for breakfast. Instead, I found nothing but the charred remains of what used to be our home.”

  Even from a side view, Glenna could see the grief written on David’s face. The tone of his voice was one of regret, too. She knew what it felt like to lose both her parents and a little brother. She and David had that much in common.

  “What did you do after you found your house burned and knew your family was gone?” she prompted, laying a hand on his arm.

  David gripped the reins a bit tighter, and a muscle in the side of his cheek began to twitch. “I lit out on my own, and I never went home again.”

  Glenna’s mouth fell open. “But you were only sixteen. How did you—”

  “Support myself?”

  She nodded.

  “I learned the fine art of gambling,” he replied tersely. “I traveled from town to town, cheating people out of their money, lying, stealing, cursing the day I’d been born, and blaming myself for my family’s deaths.”

  “How could you be held accountable for that? You said you weren’t even at home when the fire started.”

  David blew out a ragged breath. “I didn’t start the fire, but if I’d been there, I might have saved a life or two.”

  She studied him intently. “Maybe you would have been killed, too. Have you ever thought about that?”

  He shrugged. “There were days when I wished I had been.”

  Glenna sat there awhile, letting his words sink in. Hadn’t she felt the same way after Daddy was killed? Maybe it was part of the grieving process to think such thoughts. “How did you get away from the life of gambling?” she finally asked.

  He turned his head and offered her a heart-melting smile. “Pastor James Hunter found me, and I found the Lord.”

  “He found you? I don’t understand.”

  “Some men—gamblers I met on a riverboat in Mississippi—beat me up real bad and dumped me in the river. Jim was fishing nearby, and he saved me from drowning.”

  “But Pastor Hunter lives in Granger, Wyoming,” she reminded.

  David chuckled. “True, but he didn’t always live there. He used to pastor a church down south.”

  “So, he saved your life and told you about Jesus, much like you did for me.”

  “That’s right. I saw the light—like Paul in the Bible on his trip to Damascus. Shortly after my conversion, I felt led to become a minister. I traveled as a circuit-riding preacher for a few years, then finally went to Hope Academy in Omaha, Nebraska, for more training. That’s when the church here in Idaho called me to be their full-time pastor.”

  “God changed your heart,” she said softly. “I should have known by your actions that you were nothing like Daddy.”

  “Glenna, about your father …”

  “Yes?”

  “I really believe it might help if you talked about your feelings toward him.”

  “There’s nothing to say. Daddy’s dead, and the only good thing he ever did was give me this.” She held up her left hand to show him her mother’s wedding band.

  “I believe there’s some good in all men,” David murmured. “After all, your father married your mother, didn’t he?”

  She only nodded in response.

  “Through their union, you were created, and that was a good thing.”

  A small, whitewashed wooden structure, which David referred to as “the parsonage,” stood next to a tall white church. This was to be their new home. Glenna swallowed back the lump which had formed in her throat. One week ago she had no home at all. Now, thanks to her impetuous decision to marry Reverend David Green, Glenna was about to take up residence in Idaho City—as a minister’s wife, for goodness’ sake. Never in a million years had she expected her life to take such a turn. Even if David didn’t love her the way she loved him, she would at least have a sense of belonging.

  As they stepped down from the wagon, a short, middle-aged man with a balding head came bounding out of the church. His smile stretched from ear to ear as he extended one hand toward David. “So you’re the new preacher.” He looked Glenna up and down, then nodded in apparent approval, grinning at her, too. “This must be the little woman. A bit younger than we expected, but I’m sure she’ll fit in with some of our ladies.”

  David shook the man’s hand. “This is my wife, Glenna. And you are—”

  “Deacon Eustace Meyers,” the little man said with a flutter of his eyelids. “You need anything done around the church, and I’m your man. You need a meeting called, and I’ll get the word spread, quick as a wink.”

  Glenna bit back the laughter threatening to bubble up from her throat. She had no doubt about the ability of Deacon Meyers to get something done.”

  “I’ll show you the house first,” Eustace said, nodding toward the smaller building. “I’m sure you’re wantin’ to get settled in and all.”

  David grabbed two suitcases from the back of the wagon, and Eustace carried one of the supply boxes. Glenna followed, wondering if all David’s church members were as friendly and helpful as the deacon seemed to be.

  Once inside, Glenna wandered from room to room, i
nspecting her new home. It was small but quite serviceable. Besides the living room, there was a homey little kitchen, one bedroom downstairs, and a modest loft overhead. This would no doubt serve as David’s office or perhaps be used as a guest room, should they ever have overnight company.

  As David and Eustace talked about the church, which members he should get to know right away, and how many places of business were in this mining town, Glenna relished her new surroundings. She sent up a silent prayer, thanking God for being so good as to give her a place to call home. Her only concern was whether she could be the kind of wife David needed. As long as she harbored resentment toward Daddy, Glenna knew her ability to minister to others would be impaired.

  “I’ll leave you two to get settled in now,” she heard the deacon tell David. He moved toward the front door, then just as he was about to exit, he turned back around. “Oh, I almost forgot to give you this.” He reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “It’s a telegram … for you, Mrs. Green.”

  “For me?” Glenna couldn’t imagine who might be sending her a telegram.

  “Are you going to read it, or should I?” Eustace asked, stepping up beside her. “I’ve had an eighth-grade education, you know.”

  “I can read it myself, thank you,” Glenna replied. The deacon nodded and stepped outside. Glenna’s hands began to tremble as she studied the telegram.

  David pulled her to his side. “What’s wrong? Is it bad news?”

  She shook her head. “No, quite the contrary, it’s good news.”

  “Are you going to share this good news?” he prodded. “The telegram says there’s money waiting for me … at the bank here in town.”

  “Money? From whom?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just says I should go to the bank and ask about a bank draft made out in my name.” She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Do you think it’s a joke?”

  “I don’t know,” David replied. “I guess the only way to find out is to make a trip over to the bank. Would you like to go right now?”

  She nodded. “Yes, please.”

  The bank president greeted them enthusiastically, stating that he and his family attended David’s church and would be at the service on Sunday morning. When Glenna showed him the telegram, Mr. Paulson beamed. “Yes, indeed. I have a bank draft in my safe, made out for quite a tidy little sum. There’s a note attached to it as well.”

  Glenna and David took seats, while Mr. Paulson went in the back to get the money in question. When he returned, he handed the legal paper to Glenna, along with a handwritten note. It was Daddy’s handwriting! She’d have recognized it anywhere. But how? When?

  “David, this draft is from my father,” she squeaked. “The letter’s from him, too. Daddy says he was once a God-fearing man. After losing Mama and my little brother, Daddy walked away from God and turned to whiskey bottles and the gambling table for comfort.” She swallowed against the tide of tears threatening to spill over. “Daddy says he kept Mama’s dowry all these years. He never spent any of it … not even when he’d gambled everything else away. When Daddy left the hotel in Granger, he decided to wire Mama’s dowry money here, knowing this was where I’d be living with you.”

  David lifted a finger to wipe away the tears streaming down Glenna’s cheeks. “There was some good in your father. It could be that he turned back to God before his death, too.”

  David’s tender words and warm smile made Glenna’s heart beat so fast she thought she might fall right out of her chair. She smiled through her tears. “I was Daddy’s girl all my life. Now Daddy’s gone, but my true Father is God. I know you’re not in love with me, David, but I believe God sent you to me.”

  As they left the bank, Glenna leaned into David. “I love you, Pastor Green, and I’m going to try to be the best wife I can.” She moved to stand in front of David, then boldly wrapped her arms around his neck. With no thought of their surroundings or who might be watching, she kissed him full on the mouth.

  David responded by returning her kiss, sending a cascade of glorious shivers down her back. “I probably haven’t shown it too well, but I do love you, Glenna,” he whispered. “I’ve been asking myself for the last several days why God put us together on the same train. The answer He put in my mind kept coming back the same—we were meant for each other.”

  Glenna released a sigh of relief. Until this very moment, she’d never felt more loved or cherished.

  “I found you, and you found God,” David whispered against her ear.

  “Yes, and since God is my Father, I’ll always be Daddy’s girl.”

  DEAR

  TEACHER

  DEDICATION

  To Mrs. Rueger, my favorite schoolteacher,

  who encouraged me to believe in myself.

  Trust in the Lord with all thine heart;

  and lean not unto thine own understanding.

  In all thy ways acknowledge him,

  and he shall direct thy paths.

  PROVERBS 3:5–6

  Dear Reader,

  I have always appreciated teachers, but when I began doing research for this book, my admiration for those who taught in one-room schoolhouses increased a hundredfold.

  Teachers who taught in one-room schoolhouses during the 1800s and early 1900s served not only as instructors but also as janitors and disciplinarians. They averaged working as many as ten hours a day and were expected to see that the building was clean and orderly at all times.

  Education has changed a lot from the years of the one-room schoolhouse. The buildings are bigger, the classes are larger, and discipline is no longer of a physical nature. However, some things haven’t changed—the basic curriculum of reading, writing, and arithmetic, and the need for qualified teachers.

  During the days when the canals and other waterways were actively being used to transport coal and other items, the children who traveled and worked with their parents always had some time for fun. They played games such as marbles, dominoes, and checkers. Many had homemade toys, such as a spool with four nails used to weave a rope. Some little girls played with corn-husk or apple-headed dolls. Most of these children never had much more than a fourth-grade education, yet those who went to Sunday school or learned about God through their parents received a religious education that carried into their adult lives and gave them hope for the future.

  Wanda

  CHAPTER 1

  Parryville, Pennsylvania—1890

  Judith King pushed her trunk to the foot of the four-poster bed and closed the lid. She would sleep in this cozy room tonight and every night for as long as she remained in Parryville as schoolteacher at the one-room schoolhouse near the Lehigh Navigation System.

  Judith walked around the side of the bed and placed both hands on the thick mattress. Giving it a couple of firm pushes, she soon discovered it was soft and bouncy.

  “Nothing like the thin straw mattress I used to sleep on as a child,” she murmured. Nor did it compare to the hard bed she had shared with young Ellie Miller, the storekeeper’s daughter, when she’d taken her first teaching position in northern New York.

  Judith took a seat on the bed. She was pleased that during her stay here in Parryville she would room with the Reverend and Mrs. Jacobs and their twin daughters, Melissa and Melody, who were ten years old. The girls’ bedroom was on the same floor as Judith’s, and she could hear their laughter floating across the hall.

  Starting Monday morning, I’ll be Melissa and Melody’s new teacher, she mused. I pray things will go well.

  With a feeling of contentment, Judith gazed around the small, cozy room, noticing the blue and beige braided throw rug in the center of the floor, the oak dressing table and looking glass positioned along the far wall, and the colorful patchwork quilt spread across the bed. Then she stood and moved to the window, pushing the curtain aside so she could view the street below.

  A little boy with shaggy brown hair and tattered overalls ran up and dow
n the walkway in front of the parsonage. It was a blustery day, yet he wore no coat or hat. Judith noticed the slingshot hanging from his back pocket and a scruffy-looking dog nipping at his heels.

  Will that child be in my classroom on Monday morning? Will he and the other children be agreeable and easy to teach, or will many be full of mischief, the way my brother Seth used to be?

  She let the curtain fall into place and meandered across the room to check her appearance in the mirror. A lock of curly blond hair had come loose from the bun she wore at the back of her head, and she reached up to tuck it in place. Her cheeks looked pale, probably because she was tired from her train trip that morning, so she pinched them until they turned pink.