Let There Be Light (3 page)

Outside, the stage driver and shotgunner were checking the harness, making ready to pull out.

The young woman and Lorna were seated together, facing the two men. They introduced themselves as George Stallworth and Lester Franklin, explaining that they were government Indian agents. They worked with the Navajo and Hopi tribes in Gallup.

Lorna smiled. “My name is Lorna Lee, and I’m on my way to Mogollon.”

The young woman said softly, “My name is Rhonda Clark, and I’m going to Holbrook.”

Lorna studied Rhonda, telling herself that Rhonda was quite pretty, but she was a troubled person.

The driver stepped up to the window on Lorna’s side and ran his gaze over the faces of his passengers. “Everybody ready to go?”

The Indian agents and Lorna nodded. Rhonda looked at him, but did not respond. The driver called for his shotgunner to climb aboard, then climbed up himself. The Wells Fargo agent stood at the door of the office, bid the men up in the box good-bye, and the stage pulled away. Within a few minutes, they were out of Albuquerque, headed due west, and the horses were put to a steady
trot. The stage rocked and swayed on the uneven ground as the sun continued its downward slant toward the western horizon.

Stallworth and Franklin talked Indian business together, sharing papers that each carried in his briefcase.

Lorna noted that Rhonda kept her face turned toward her window, discouraging any conversation between them. Seated on the north side of the coach, Lorna stared out her own window at the rugged San Mateo Mountains, lost in thoughts and daydreams about her future in Mogollon.

At one point, as the stagecoach crossed a bridge over a small stream, Lorna heard Rhonda sniffle. Her sensitive heart was touched when she turned to see silent tears threatening to spill from Rhonda’s closed eyes. The men were deeply involved in their conversation. Lorna was careful not to call their attention to herself or Rhonda as she took a lace hankie from her dress sleeve and extended it to her. “Here, honey.”

A tear started down Rhonda’s cheek as she looked at Lorna. “Thank you, but I have one.” Even as she spoke, she opened her purse and took out her own hankie.

While Rhonda dabbed at her cheek, then her shadowed blue eyes, Lorna said, “Are you going to Holbrook to live or are you just going for a visit?”

Rhonda sniffed. Her voice was strained. “To live. What about you?”

A smile spread over Lorna’s lovely features. “Permanent. I’m going there to marry a very handsome man.”

“Oh. I see. And what’s his name?”

“Jack Sparks. He is an ex-Union soldier. He had been a captain. He now manages the town’s hardware store.”

“How was he able to get out of the army with the Civil War going so strong?”

“Medical discharge. Jack was fighting under Brigadier General Nathaniel Lyon in the Battle of Wilson’s Creek near Springfield, Missouri, on August 10, 1861. During the battle, a Confederate cannonball exploded near him. A piece of shrapnel hit his left eye. It destroyed the eyeball. Jack now wears a patch over his eye.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

Lorna pulled a photograph out of her purse and handed it to her. “That’s Jack, standing outside the hardware store. Doesn’t he have a winsome smile?”

Rhonda nodded. “Yes. Too bad such a handsome man has to wear an eye patch for the rest of his life.”

“Yes, but the patch isn’t going to make any difference to me. Soon after Jack’s discharge from the army, he went to Mogollon, where his uncle lives. His uncle owns the hardware store. When he learned of Jack’s being wounded and discharged from the army, he offered him the job.”

“That’s nice,” said Rhonda, handing the picture back to her. “How long have you known Jack?”

“I’ve never met him. We’ve only corresponded through the mail.”

A look of pure horror suddenly captured Rhonda’s features. “Oh no! Don’t tell me you’re going to be his mail order bride!”

Lorna gave her a strange look. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Rhonda set her jaw and clenched her teeth. “Don’t do it, Lorna. It will only end up in heartache.”

Lorna frowned. “Were you a mail order bride?”

“Yes.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

The obvious resentment that was inside Rhonda Clark came out as she told Lorna she was born in Columbus, Ohio. Her life was a lonely one, and a year ago, because of her loneliness, she answered a mail order bride ad in the
Columbus Star
. The ad had been placed by a Lieutenant Philip Clark, who was stationed at Fort Craig, New Mexico, which was about a hundred miles south of Albuquerque.

She came to New Mexico, believing that everything was going to be wonderful. She would be married to a handsome young army officer and find adventure in the west. As soon as she married Philip, she knew she had made a mistake. He treated her like dirt and acted like she was his maid instead of his wife. After ten months of this kind of treatment, she went to a judge in nearby Socorro and obtained a divorce.

Touched deeply by Rhonda’s sorrow, Lorna said, “I’m sorry,
honey. So you’re going to Holbrook to live, you said.”

“Yes. I’m going to live with a cousin and her husband.” Her features twisted. “Lorna, don’t do it. Don’t marry this man you’ve never met. Get off in Gallup and wait for the next stage to Albuquerque. Where’s home?”

“South Bend, Indiana.”

“Well, head back to South Bend as fast as you can. Don’t marry a man you’ve never met. This mail order bride system is a failure. An utter failure. Save yourself some horrible heartache, Lorna. Go back home and marry some guy you’ve known for a long time.”

Lorna was disturbed by the woman’s words but countered, “Rhonda, it’s not going to be that way with Jack and me. Both of us have prayed earnestly about this, and we feel certain that the Lord has chosen us for each other.”

Rhonda’s mouth turned down. She rolled her eyes. “Praying isn’t going to help either one of you. If there is a God, He doesn’t care what happens to any of His creatures. You’re a fool if you go ahead and marry this stranger.”

“Oh, but prayer most certainly has already helped us to know that we will be happy together, Rhonda. This is because Jack and I know Jesus Christ as our personal Saviour, and—”

“Don’t give me any of that Jesus stuff!” clipped Rhonda. “I don’t want to hear it.”

By this time, the men were looking at them, having heard Rhonda’s outburst. They looked at each other, adjusted themselves on the seat, but said nothing.

When Lorna looked back at Rhonda, she had her arms folded over her chest and was looking out the window. The stubborn look on her face told Lorna she was not about to listen to anything she had to say.

The stage arrived in Gallup on time. The Indian agents told the young women good-bye and hurried away. Crew and passengers would stay in a small lodge for the night. They were given supper by the Wells Fargo agent and his wife.

That night as Lorna lay in the feather bed, she told the Lord that even though she was nervous about going to Mogollon as Jack’s prospective mail order bride, she had peace in her heart because He
had given it to her. She knew He was leading her, and that Jack’s letters had strongly indicated that He had also led him to answer her inquiry to his ad in the
South Bend Journal
, asking her to come to Arizona with the future of becoming his wife.

“Lord,” she said, “please don’t let what Rhonda told me today put any doubts in my heart about Jack. I’m asking You to guide both of us once we have met and I stay in the boardinghouse while we get acquainted. Both Jack and I only want Your will for us, Lord, and You know the peace You have given me about coming out west to become Mrs. Jack Sparks. We are so sure that You have chosen us for each other.”

The next morning, after breakfast with the Wells Fargo agent and his wife, the stage driver and shotgunner, Rhonda and Lorna, and a well-dressed couple in their early forties boarded. The young women sat on the seat where they had been the day before.

When the stage was once again moving across the rolling land, the man smiled and said, “Ladies, I am Pastor David Denison of Mogollon, and this is my wife, Clara.”

“Oh!” said Lorna, her eyes lighting up. “I know who you are. Jack Sparks has told me about you in his letters.”

“And you’re Lorna Lee,” said Clara. “Jack has told us so much about you. We’ve been eager to meet you.”

“We sure have,” said the pastor. “I didn’t realize you would be on the same stage with us.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been, but my train was delayed getting to Kansas City, so I’m running later than expected. The Fargo agent in Santa Fe told me Jack would be notified of my new arrival time.”

“I’ll tell you this much,” said Denison, “Jack is one excited young man. He has shown your picture to everybody in the church, and I imagine by now he’s shown it to everybody in town.”

Lorna smiled. “I’m excited too, Pastor Denison. As you well know, we both have absolute assurance that the Lord has chosen us for each other.”

“I have counseled him from day one about the mail order bride ad, and he has shown me every letter that came in response. Clara
and I have no doubt you are God’s choice for Jack.”

“I’m so glad. Have you and Mrs. Denison been in Gallup very long?”

“Just a week. I was preaching a revival meeting for a pastor friend of mine.”

Lorna nodded. “Jack has told me what a great preacher his pastor is.”

Denison’s features tinted. “Well, Jack may be a little prejudiced since I’m the one who had the privilege of leading him to the Lord.”

Rhonda kept her eyes out the window as Lorna and the Denisons talked about Jack and their plans to marry. Lorna asked about Jack’s first approach to the pastor about putting a mail order bride ad in eastern newspapers.

“Well, Jack came to me back in February. He said he felt it was time he was getting married, but there were no Christian young women in Mogollon who were not already engaged.” He chuckled. “Clara and I have twin daughters, Mary and Martha, who at that time, were sixteen. They’re seventeen, now. But because Clara and I had declared that our daughters could not marry until they were at least eighteen, Jack knew they were too young to consider.”

Clara smiled at Lorna. “Jack asked my husband what he thought of the mail order bride system.”

Rhonda flicked a glance at Clara, then looked back out the window.

“I told him of other Christian couples I know whom the Lord had brought together by the mail order bride system,” said the pastor, “and I told him the Lord could do it for him too. I cautioned Jack to make sure he made it plain in his ad that he is a born-again man looking for a born-again bride, and to ask for her testimony of salvation when she responded to the ad.”

“Well, he did,” said Lorna.

Denison grinned, nodding. “He received several letters of response, Lorna. And he let Clara and me read them. Most of them were good letters, but Jack just didn’t have peace about responding to them … until your letter came. Clara and I both felt there was something special about you. Your testimony was as clear as could be, and the three of us prayed together about it. Jack had such peace
that he immediately had that picture taken in front of the hardware store and sent it with the letter.”

“And it was some letter,” said Lorna. “Jack didn’t want to keep any secrets from me. He sent the picture because he wanted me to see the patch over his eye. He gave me pertinent information about himself and his family, and told me about getting the wound in the battle at Wilson’s Creek. He wanted me to get the full impact of his disfigurement right off and not to have to face a shock when I came to meet him. He even asked that I seriously consider his handicap before we proceeded any further.”

“That’s Jack,” said Clara.

“Well, I did consider it. Very seriously. My heart knew before my head did that this was the special man the Lord had reserved for me. I wrote back and told him so, and that after much prayer, I felt I should come to Mogollon as his prospective mail order bride. His next letter was so sweet. He included the money for my travel expense and said to come as soon as possible. I wasted no time preparing for this trip west, and I can hardly wait to meet him.”

At that moment, Rhonda turned and looked at Lorna. “I sure hope it works out for you.”

“Thank you,” said Lorna. “Rhonda was a mail order bride,” she said to the Denisons, “but it didn’t work out.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Clara.

“Did you bathe it in prayer beforehand?” queried the pastor.

Rhonda shook her head stiffly. “I don’t believe in prayer, and I don’t want to talk about God.” With that, she turned to look out the window once again.

Lorna shrugged as she looked at the Denisons and mouthed,
I tried to talk to her about the Lord, but she refuses to listen
.

The Denisons nodded sadly.

When the stage rolled into Holbrook, Lorna and the Denisons bid Rhonda good-bye, and she walked away with her cousin and her husband.

Watching them go, Lorna said, “I wanted so desperately to reach her for the Lord, but she just wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s always a heartbreaker,” said the pastor.

Moments later, the stagecoach rolled out of Holbrook.

Clara leaned close to Lorna and took hold of her hand. “Tell you what, honey—if it works out between you and Jack as we believe it will, I want to make your wedding dress for you. I’ve made them for several brides in our church. Will you let me do it?”

Lorna’s face was beaming. “I sure will!”

A
S THE
C
IVIL
W
AR CONTINUED
, the battles became fiercer and the bloodshed grew worse. Wives, mothers, sweethearts, and entire families of both the North and the South lived in constant dread that their men in uniform would never come home again.

On Thursday morning, September 22, 1864, young Jenny Linden was behind the counter at Henderson’s General Store in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, waiting on a customer when she heard the door open and looked past the woman to see the delivery man from the
Harrisburg Journal
come in. He was carrying a stack of papers.