The Pilgrim Song (6 page)

“See here, it’s not a poisonous snake. It can’t hurt anything. It probably came out from under a rosebush to sun itself on the warm cobblestones.”

Jenny could not catch her breath. She had always been terrified of snakes, and this one was enormous. She leaned against the flank of the mare, which had quieted down, and took a deep breath. She turned to watch the snake as it slid back under the rosebushes. She gave a sigh of relief, then noticed that Longstreet was watching her. Blood trickled down his cheek where her whip had broken the skin, and she felt a keen pang of remorse. She almost apologized but could not find her voice as he picked up the whip she had dropped and handed it to her.

“Here’s your whip,” he said. “I’ve got one more cheek left. I think that’s what the Bible says, isn’t it? Something about turning the other cheek.”

His tone caused Jenny to shudder, and without a word, she snatched the whip and, in one fluid motion, mounted her horse. She tapped the mare with the whip and expertly led the animal back down the garden path toward the stable. Clint touched his face as he watched her disappear. He’d had worse injuries, but the cut was bleeding, and he knew it would leave a mark, possibly even a permanent scar.

Slowly he picked up the hoe and, grasping it in both hands, struck a hard blow to the ground in frustration. As he continued down the row, bitterness rose up in him, and he felt a strong surge of dislike for Miss Jennifer Winslow.

Jenny went through the rest of her day upset, saying little and keeping to herself. The incident had frightened her. She did not care that the snake was harmless; she was terrified of all snakes. She was also miserable over the way she had struck Longstreet and, no matter how hard she tried, could not put the scene out of her mind. She had a quick temper, and she had honestly thought he was being forward when he grabbed her. She had been wrong, of course, she realized now as she played the incident over and over in her mind.
Why did I do it? I should have known better than to hit him!

At three that afternoon she went into her father’s study, where he was talking with Hannah. The two spent much time together, for Hannah handled the books for the household, a considerable task.

“Dad, Maria Steinmark invited me to spend the weekend with her,” Jenny said. “Is that okay?”

Hannah and Lewis both looked up, and Lewis said, “Sure, that’s fine, daughter.”

Jenny was about to turn and leave when her father said, “I passed by that new man on the way in. He has a bad-looking cut on his face. Do you know what happened?”

Jenny shrugged. “I haven’t heard.”

No sooner was the lie out of her mouth than she knew she could not hide what she had done. She swallowed hard, then said, “No, Dad, that’s not true. It . . . it was my fault.”

Lewis looked at her, surprised. “What was your fault?”

“That mark on Longstreet’s face. I . . . I hit him with my riding crop.” She saw the two staring at her strangely, and being honest at heart, she spilled out the whole story, ending with, “I thought he was grabbing me, that he was being fresh—but he was just trying to keep me from falling on that snake.”

“And you hit him with your whip?”

“I did it before I could think.”

“Well, perhaps it was understandable if you thought he was forcing himself on you,” Lewis said. “But when you learned the truth, I assume you apologized.”

Jenny swallowed hard and shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

“You didn’t! Why not?”

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t apologize!” Lewis rarely got angry with his children, but he was very upset now. “You’ll have to apologize to him, Jenny.”

“I can’t do it. I won’t!”

“Why not?” Hannah asked.

“It’s a matter of pride.”

“A matter of pride!” Lewis lifted his voice. “Well, that’s the wrong kind of pride, Jennifer, and if you won’t apologize, then I’ll do it for you! You’re spoiled to the bone, and I’m downright ashamed of you!”

He left the room abruptly, and Jenny looked at Hannah. She had been hurt by her father’s words, and she swallowed hard. “I guess you think he’s right.”

“I think he is this time,” Hannah said. “You’ll really have to say something to the man. I don’t know him, but it sounds like you did him a wrong.”

****

Lewis found Clint in the garage working on the ancient truck. When Longstreet saw his employer, he stood up and greeted him. “Hello, Mr. Winslow.”

“Hello, Clint.” He cleared his throat, ran his hands through his hair, then began, “I’ve heard about the misunderstanding between you and Jenny.” He waited for Longstreet to comment, but when the tall man said nothing, he went on, “I’m sorry for all of it, Clint. She’s a spoiled young woman, and I’ve told her how ashamed I am.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Clint lightly touched the raw wound, then shook his head. “I’ve gotten hurt worse than this lots of times.”

“That doesn’t make it right. I don’t know what’s wrong with Jenny. She’s got a good heart, but she’s as proud as Lucifer, as much as I hate to say it.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Winslow. It was a misunderstanding. I’ve already forgotten it.” This was not exactly true, and Clint knew that everyone who saw the wound would ask about it, so it could not be forgotten that easily. But he had something else on his mind. “About this old truck, Mr. Winslow. Jamie tells me you’re going to get rid of it for scrap.”

“That’s right. The motor’s no good.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I’d like to make a deal with you.”

“A deal about the truck?”

“I think I could make it run. If I buy the parts and get it going, would you sell it to me?”

“Sell it to you! Why, you can have it. I was just going to have it hauled off to the junkyard. Do you really think you can make it run?” Lewis looked at the parts that were scattered out on a table and shook his head. “I was told it was beyond fixing. It’s pretty old.”

“It’s a good truck,” Clint said. “I’ll be leaving here someday, Mr. Winslow. I’d like to fix it up and have something to drive.”

“Why, of course, Clint. It’s all yours.”

“Thanks a lot. I appreciate it.”

“Try not to be too angry at Jenny,” Lewis said, then turned and left the barn.

****

Clint had worked on the truck all evening. Finally, just after ten o’clock, he turned out the lights in the garage, closed the door, and started toward Jamie’s cottage. When he was almost to the door, he halted abruptly, for he vaguely saw a shape. The moonlight was bright, but he could not make out who it was walking along the garden walkway. He spoke up. “Who are you?” He heard a woman’s stifled gasp, and he said quickly, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Who are
you?
”

“Clinton Longstreet, the gardener’s helper.”

The figure came closer, and the moonlight fell on her face. He realized that this was the other Winslow daughter, and she identified herself as such.

“We haven’t met. I’m Hannah Winslow.”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re out late tonight. I’ve been wanting to tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done with the garden and grounds. They look so much better in the short time you’ve been here. You’ve done a wonderful job, and Jamie can’t say enough good things about you.”

“Thank you, Miss Winslow.”

He was able to see her features dimly in the pale moonlight. The hint of a smile played at the corners of her mouth. The faint smell of lilac came to him, and he was impressed at her serenity. From hearing others talk about her, he had formed in his mind a picture of a skinny woman with sharp features, but as he studied her, he saw a repose in her face that stirred his curiosity. He found himself trying to find a name for it.

The silence ran on, and he thought with pleasure,
She’s not afraid to endure a little silence,
and at that moment she spoke.

“Jamie told me how you had helped him over his problem with his daughter. I think that’s so wonderful. I’ve been trying to get him to forgive her for a long time.” She smiled then, and it changed her whole face, making her look much younger. “Yet you did it in just a few days.”

Clint shook his head modestly. “I think he wanted to do it all the time. He just needed a little push. I’m glad for him.”

She hesitated and then said, “If you’d like to come to church with us, it’s not far from here. We’d love to have you come.”

“Well, I don’t have any churchgoing clothes.” He expected her to argue and to say the usual thing—that clothes aren’t the most important thing in a church—but she studied him in a curious fashion and did not argue. Finally she said, “Good night, Clint.”

“Good night, Miss Winslow.” As she moved back toward
the house, he thought of all the things he’d heard about her. She seemed completely normal to him, but others had told him she was a hermit, afraid of people. Even Kat had said so. She disappeared into the house, and he filed the meeting in his mind, knowing he would ponder it later.

CHAPTER FOUR

New Face in Church

Hannah was sitting in her room reading, so totally engrossed in her book that she started at a loud knock on her door. She leaped up, still carrying the book, and threw open the door to see her father standing there, obviously agitated. “What is it, Father? You look terrible.”

“It’s Josh,” Lewis said with his lips drawn into a white line. Stress marked his pale face, and Hannah, concerned, took his arm.

“What is it?” she asked. “Has he been hurt?”

“I don’t know . . . I don’t think so.”

“But what happened?”

“I just got a call from the police station. He’s under arrest.”

Hannah’s eyes opened wide, and she took a sharp breath. “Under arrest for what?”

“He was involved in an accident. I couldn’t get many of the particulars. He was allowed only one call, so he called me.”

“But what did he say?”

“He just said that there’d been an accident and that he’d been arrested for reckless endangerment and driving while intoxicated.” Lewis’s face twisted with disgust. “I’ve got to get a lawyer down there. We’ll have to make bail—at least I hope they’ll let him out.”

Hannah was so distressed she could not speak for a moment, and then she put her hand on her father’s arm. “I know this is hard for you.”

Lewis had been disturbed about Hannah’s behavior for
years. Her refusal to go out into society had grieved him deeply. He had always looked forward to her marrying and having children and a happy home, but none of that had come to pass. Who would want a wife that refused to leave the house except to go to church? He had tried to talk to her, to get her to see doctors, but nothing seemed to work.

Yet in times of stress Lewis always came to Hannah to seek solace. Before his wife, Deborah, had died, the two of them had each other, but when she was taken away, he had no one. His fiancée, Lucy, was not much comfort to him. She would just tell him to stop being so negative and look on the bright side. He couldn’t talk to Josh about problems, of course. Josh was too deeply mired in his own egotism and was not sober half the time. Jenny was still a hope in his life, but she was young and immature and couldn’t be of much help when problems such as this one arose.

But Hannah had something of her mother in her. Despite her eccentricities, she had a quiet, mild spirit that made her a good listener. She had a way of listening intently as Lewis talked his problems out. Most of the time she did not have a solution, but her presence and quiet spirit were a help to him. Now he looked at her with pain etched in his eyes. “What’s the matter with us, Hannah? The whole family is out of step! Josh could have been an archeologist by now and had a fine future, but he just quit. And Jenny is so selfish she’ll never be able to help anyone, not even herself, unless she changes. And—”

When her father broke off, Hannah nodded. “And there’s your oldest daughter, who’s nothing but a hermit, afraid to get out of the house.”

“I wasn’t going to say that, Hannah. You know how I’ve worried about you for years. I wish you’d talk to me about it—whatever it is that frightens you.”

Once or twice, Lewis remembered, Hannah had almost unburdened herself. He remembered clearly those times when he had hoped she would at least try to tell him what was
troubling her so deeply. Now he saw it in her again, and he waited expectantly. Her lips parted, and her gaze had something in it he could not quite identify. Perhaps it was fear. He knew she was afraid of something, although she never spoke of it. She did have terrible nightmares at times. She had not had them as a child, but they began shortly after she broke off her engagement to Preston. He and Deborah had expected they would pass away, and for a time, it seemed, they had, but now there were times when she still had them. She would sometimes come to the breakfast table pale with fatigue. Lewis waited for her to speak, and she finally gave a short gasp and said, “I . . . I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Father. I just don’t know.”

Lewis, as disturbed as he was about Joshua, felt a keen pang of disappointment. “I wish you could talk to somebody, Hannah. Whatever it is that’s troubling you, it needs to come out.” He took her hands and looked down at them. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to our family.” Pain crossed his face again, and he said, almost as if to himself, “We’ve left God out somewhere along the line, and He’s going to demand an accounting.”