June (2 page)

Nodding, June switched her valise to the opposite hand and accepted his outstretched hand. "Eli Messenger?"

The man appeared momentarily abashed before breaking into hearty laughter. "Oh, my, no! I'm Isaac-Isaac Inman, Eli's employer. But thank you, young lady! You've certainly brightened my day!" He pumped her hand vigorously.

Relief flooded June. "You're not Eli! That's wonderful!" She was instantly ashamed. Her cheeks burned, but Reverend Inman just laughed harder.

"Oh-no, I didn't mean `wonderful you weren't Eli'; I only meant-" Realizing she didn't know what she meant, much less what she was saying, she simply returned his smile. "How nice to meet you, Reverend Inman. Eli speaks highly of you in his letters." Drawing Sam to her side, June introduced her. "Reverend Inman, I'd like for you to meet Sam-Samantha Harris."

Reverend Inman grasped Sam's hand in a friendly grip. "I didn't expect to find two lovely creatures coming off that boat."

"Sam and I met on the voyage." June anxiously searched the crowd. "Where is Eli?"

Reverend Inman's features sobered. "Eli has taken ill. He's asked that I escort you to your quarters."

June frowned. "Ill?"

Taking her arm, Reverend Inman turned her toward a long row of waiting carriages. Departing passengers milled about, carrying heavy baggage. "Nothing serious," he assured her. "He's been afield most of the week, and the weather's taken a nasty turn. Seems he's caught a bit of a chill. He thought it best that I come to meet you." Reverend Inman reached for the women's valises. "May I take you somewhere, Miss Harris?"

Sam searched the rows of waiting wagons. "Thank you ever so much, but me auntie said she'd send a driver. . . ." She broke into a grin. "Ow, there 'e is now!" A weathered buckboard with Angeline's Orphanage spelled out in large, colorful letters was parked at the back of the row. A white-haired Indian man stood beside the wagon, waiting.

"Are you Angeline's niece?" Reverend Inman asked, surprised.

Sam brightened. "You know me old auntie?"

"Know of her," Reverend Inman said. "Fine womandoing a good job with the children. I understand she's not feeling well."

"No, sir, that's why I'm here. Goin' to 'elp her, I am."

Giving June a hug, Sam reached for her battered valise, her youthful face radiant with excitement. "Promise you'll come see me? And soon!"

Hugging back, June promised. "The orphanage is located where?"

"On the outskirts of town-not far from the crusade grounds. Me auntie says every man, woman, and child in Seattle 'as heard of Angeline's Orphanage."

The two women shared a final brief, warm embrace.

"I'll be keepin' you in me prayers, June Kallahan," Sam whispered.

"As I'll keep you in mine," June promised.

Sam walked to the waiting wagon, and Reverend Inman helped June into the carriage, then took his place behind the reins. As the buggy pulled away, June glanced over her shoulder for a final glimpse of Sam. The elderly driver was loading her valise into the buckboard. Scared and filled with apprehension, she turned back to face the road. Homesickness nearly felled her.

Look on the bright side, June! Soon she would be married, taking care of her new husband.

Tomorrow she wouldn't miss her sisters so much.

Tomorrow she wouldn't listen so intently for the sound of Sam's lyrical cockney accent.

Tomorrow God would remove all her fears.

The pungent air reeked of the vast forests of Douglas firs and red cedars. The smell of wet vegetation stung her nose. The rain had slowed to a light drizzle.

"Oh, my! Just look at those mountains! Aren't they spectacular!" She'd seen pictures of mountains but had never hoped to actually see one.

Reverend Inman clucked, urging the horse through a muddy pothole. "To the east we have the Cascades. To the west, the Olympics. They are quite magnificent, some of God's finest work."

From the moment June had accepted Eli's proposal, she read every book she could get her hands on concerning Seattle. She learned the town was located on a hilly isthmus on Puget Sound. Seattle served primarily as a lumber town and was noted for its abundant natural resources of water, timber, and fish.

"Have you been here long?"

"Seattle is my home. I left for a while, but when my wife passed on, I returned." His eyes grew distant. "The area is fertile for harvest."

The clouds lowered, and a cold wind blew off the inlets as the buggy traveled deeper inland. June burrowed into her cloak, wishing she'd worn something heavier. The worsening weather made it impossible to talk. Instead she watched the road, praying God would safely deliver them from the inclement weather.

It was some time before Reverend Inman finally drew the horse to a halt. June's breath caught at the sight below. A tent, the size of which June had never before witnessed, spread out like a vast city before them. Men, dressed in yellow oilcloth slickers, wrestled with heavy ropes and cables. The heavens suddenly opened, and the drizzle turned into a deluge. Lightning forked, and the mountains reverberated with the mighty sound of thunder.

June gripped the side of the wagon as Reverend Inman urged the team down the slippery incline. Aunt Thalia's warning rang in her ears. You're making a mistake, young lady!

The wagon finally rolled to a stop in front of an unusual looking octagon-shaped dwelling. June stared at the oddshaped cinder-block building, thinking it looked very out of place among the ocean of canvas. Sitting low to the ground, the earth-tone complex zigzagged in varying directions, covering at least a half acre of ground. The land surrounding the house unit was barren, with not one blade of grass. In the summer, colorful marigolds and asters might relieve the naked landscape, but today the rain only made it look more bleak.

"We're here," Reverend Inman announced. "Home-for now.

June looked about, fighting another wave of homesickness. The immense revival tent flapped like a giant, awkward bird, two hundred yards to the right of the complex. Home. The connotation sounded peculiar to her, almost frightening.

Climbing out of the buckboard, Reverend Inman extended his hand. "Hurry now, let's get you inside, where it's dry!"

June gathered her damp skirt and stepped down. Thankful to be on solid ground again, she hurried behind Reverend Inman into the shelter of her strange-looking new home. Shivering, she trailed the minister through the corridor and emerged in a brightly lit parlor where a coal stove burned in the middle of the octagon-shaped room.

Reverend Inman shrugged out of his wet coat, then reached for a small bell and rang it. "I'll have Ettie bring tea."

Momentarily a tiny woman appeared, wearing a flannel nightgown and wrapper. Salt-and-pepper strands peeked from beneath the nightcap framing her weathered face and friendly blue eyes. As Papa would say, she couldn't weigh eighty pounds soaking wet. "You rang, Reverend?"

Reverend Inman smiled with weary gratitude. "I know it's late, but Miss Kallahan and I could use a cup of tea, Ettie. Do you mind?"

"Mind? Of course I don't mind, Reverend. I've been worried about you." She tsked. "Not a fit night for man or beast." She crossed the room, snagging a crocheted throw from a wing chair beside the fire. "You must be Eli's intended."

June nodded, trying to still her chattering teeth. "Yes, „ ma am.

"Ettie keeps my house and cooks my meals," Reverend Inman explained. He viewed the wiry woman with open affection. "But, of course, she's much more than a housekeeper. I couldn't manage without her."

"And I couldn't do without you, Reverend. Here now, we need to get you out of those wet clothes. Rain, rain, and more rain," Ettie clucked. "My old bones can't take much more." Pointing to a door on the right, she ordered June, "Go on, now. I'll bring your things in to you. When you've changed, I'll have tea waiting. Reverend, take off those wet shoes." Scurrying purposefully across the floor, she bent down and stoked the fire. Sparks flew up the stovepipe as the embers caught and the flames grew.

June did as she was told, returning a short time later dressed in a dry pewter-colored wool. The smell of freshbaked bread drew her to the small table Ettie had set. A heaping plate of scones, blackberry jelly, and a bowl of rich yellow butter surrounded a colorful clay pot of steeping tea. June realized she hadn't eaten since breakfast-a meager fare of tea with toast and butter.

"Come. Sit," Ettie ordered.

Reverend Inman appeared through a second doorway. June wondered how many rooms the quaint-looking building had. "Ahh, Ettie, my dear. Hot scones on a rainy night. How did you know that's exactly what I prayed for on the way home?"

Ettie winked at June. "You've prayed the same prayer for the thirty years I've known you, Reverend. By now, the Lord knows it by heart."

Reverend Inman chuckled, holding his hands to the crackling stove.

Ettie poured cups of steaming tea, adding a generous dollop of cream to the reverend's cup. June listened to the affectionate banter between Ettie and the reverend, deciding she was going to like the friendly housekeeper and the gentle evangelist.

Heavy rain pelted the windowpanes as they drank tea and buttered the hot scones. The room was cozy, with an overstuffed sofa, wing chairs, and wool rugs on the pine floors. Reverend Inman's private quarters, June surmised. A long row of bookshelves on the east wall contained books concerning the ministries of Dwight L. Moody and other prominent evangelists of the time. June thought of how eager Papa would have been to read works about these great men. He'd spoken often of Moody and chorister Ira Sankey. The two men traveled the country, preaching to huge crowds and converting thousands to Christianity.

Ettie fussed around the warm room, setting damp shoes on the brick hearth and draping wet coats over a line strung behind the stove. The room smelled of baked bread and steamed wool.

"Will you be needing anything else, Reverend?"

"No, thank you, Ettie. Is Eli awake?"

"Yes, sir. Parker is with him."

"Parker?" The reverend lifted his cup thoughtfully. "Terrible night for visiting."

"Yes, sir. Terrible. But you know how Parker feels about Eli. He refuses to leave his side."

"Yes, yes. He and Eli are good friends."

"That they are, close as bark on a tree. I'll be taking them both tea and scones now."

"You do that, Ettie. Tell Eli we'll be in to say good night shortly."

Ettie left through yet another doorway, which June assumed led to the kitchen. Swallowing the last bite of scone and jelly, she stood up, anxious to meet her intended husband. The trip had been long, and her curiosity was blooming. Who was this man she was about to marry? Was he as kind and gentle as Reverend Inman? Was there anything she could do to hasten his recovery?

Wiping his mouth on a white napkin, Reverend Inman smiled. "I see you're anxious to meet your fiance."

June smoothed the folds of her skirt, hoping her excitement didn't show. "Yes, sir, I am most anxious to meet Eli."

"Then we must delay no longer." Pushing back from the table, the reverend got slowly to his feet. "Follow me."

June accompanied him through a fourth doorway leading down a long, winding hallway. They passed many closed doors before finally stopping. Rapping softly, the reverend called, "Eli? Do you feel up to visitors?"

Momentarily the door opened, and June shrank back when a man so tall, with shoulders so broad she suddenly felt breathless, blocked their way.

His eyes-incredibly blue eyes-looked past her and fixed on the reverend. He nodded. "Isaac."

Reverend Inman met the man's steady gaze. "I know it's late, but Eli's bride has arrived. Does he feel up to a brief visit?"

The man turned and spoke quietly. June couldn't make out his words. In the background, a weak male voice answered.

Stepping aside, the man ushered them into the room. June walked past him, aware of the faint smell of soap and water. The red-and-black flannel shirt and dark trousers he wore were neatly pressed.

Moving to the bedside, Reverend Inman adjusted the wick on the lamp higher. Shadows danced off the walls as rain pelted the windowpane.

A figure on the bed stirred. "Is that you, Reverend?"

"I've collected your bride safely, Eli."

"Thank you, Brother Isaac. Bring her closer to the light," Eli murmured.

June was troubled by the tremor in his voice. He sounded so very weak. What had the reverend said? Eli had taken ill suddenly? He had caught a chill-well, a chill could take the starch right out of a body. If Eli would permit her, first thing tomorrow morning she would concoct Aunt Thalia's poultice, made from garlic, honey, and herbs. Very unpleasant to smell but guaranteed to cure whatever ailed a person.

Reverend Inman reached for June's hand and drew her closer to the light. Smiling, she focused on the man who was soon to be her husband. Illness shadowed his lean face. Hazel eyes-much too bright-searched the shadows for her. His boyish features were flushed red, and an inadequate reddish growth that passed for a beard covered his youthful chin. A line of angry sores dotted his bottom lip from the high fever.

Groping for her hand, he said softly, "Hello, June."

June squeezed his fingers, hot to the touch. "Hello, Eli. I'm sorry to hear you're sick. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes. "No ... no, they're taking very good care of me. I'm sorry I wasn't able to meet you. I trust the voyage from San Francisco was uneventful?"

"Yes, quite uneventful-with the exception that I met-" June stepped back as Eli dissolved in a fit of coughing. The attack was so violent, so all-consuming, that she immediately grew concerned. Reaching for the pitcher on the bedside table, she steadied her hand and poured a glass of water. "Perhaps some water ..."

The man with the broad shoulders suddenly blocked her efforts. She glanced up to meet his stern look. "Water only makes it worse."

She immediately set the glass down. "I'm sorry."

"This is my friend Parker. Parker Sentell," Eli whispered. "Parker, my intended bride, June Kallahan. She's come all the way from Michigan-" Another round of coughing interrupted the introductions.