Sarah's Promise (18 page)
I hardly noticed half the miles I covered on my way back to Camp Point. It did seem foolish. I’d have to fill up with gas again. I sure was wasting a lot with all this back and forth. Mr. Bellor wasn’t home. I’d missed his breakfast time, but his wife told me where to find him at his work downtown, and his boss let him have the time to take me through his place again. It was available right now, Bellor said. The shop was standing there empty, and he wouldn’t mind if I wanted to get into it and get a start on my business right away. But we’d have to wait with the house until they got moved. Sometime in April was what he expected.
I talked a long time to Mr. Willings. I prayed with him. I went and walked by the pond again and prayed some more. I was so anxious I couldn’t hardly see straight, knowing what I wanted to do. But I couldn’t do it. Not yet. Because I’d promised Sarah I wouldn’t take no big step without talking to her first. So I went back to the bank. Mr. Willings let me use his telephone.
I told Mr. Wortham I wouldn’t be able to leave today. I asked him to bring Sarah with him to town tomorrow so I could have another chance to talk to her. It was real important. And then I called Sam and told him I wouldn’t be back to Jacksonville either. Mr. Willings had offered to let me stay the night and I was gonna do it. I needed to be right here in Camp Point when I talked to Sarah, and I needed Sam not to be in the middle of it.
Mr. Willings said he’d be pleased to have me move to town. But he couldn’t guarantee his bank would provide a loan because someone else was placed over such decisions, and he wouldn’t get involved on my behalf. I told him that was how things oughta be. I didn’t want no free ride from my brother, and I didn’t want it from a new friend who’d asked me to church, neither. If I couldn’t satisfy the bank without no special favors, then I didn’t belong to be doing this. I’d talk to them tomorrow. Maybe. After I talked to Sarah.
I could scarcely sleep at all that night. I didn’t wanna make Sarah cry, but I was afraid this was gonna do it for sure. I’d yield to her if she hated the thought of this badly enough, I knew I would. I’d give it up and go home. But I found myself hoping she’d consider, hoping she’d understand the thundering excitement this was working in me like nothing ever before.
This would be all on my own. I could work in this town and get established in the months before the wedding. It might be the only chance I’d ever have to prove to myself that I could make a go of things if I needed to, even before Sarah came to be by my side. It’d be something I’d always know then, and everybody else’d know if they took a look, that I could truly make it with nobody to lean on but God.
I prayed, since I couldn’t sleep. I prayed and cried and half thought I was crazy. But I wanted this. So awful bad, I wanted this. Everything I’d found out today just fed the longing in me all the more. This was meant to be. It was right for me. If only Sarah could see it too.
Sarah
Tuesday started out a great day. The sun was shining. Perfect travel weather for Frank. I wouldn’t have to worry about him being stuck somewhere in a winter storm. Mom and Emma Grace were bustling about, happily baking Frank’s cake plus plenty of things for dinner with a houseful of Hammonds, and Eugene. Despite Rorey’s rudeness, Mom seemed more than willing to host them, just as Dad was willing to allow them to have their wedding in our front yard.
Katie was working at the five-and-dime and though I sometimes wished I was still working at the Mcleansboro library, on this day I knew I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate. Surely Frank had already left. He was on his way home.
I gift-wrapped the book I’d gotten for his birthday and drew out a pattern of the dress shirt I wanted to make him for our wedding. Mom knew I was a little past myself in excitement to see him again. Except for dusting she didn’t give me a thing to do.
Bert came over early. He and Emma Grace were both worried about how their older brothers were going to react to Eugene. It wasn’t just him running off with Rorey that bothered them, though that certainly didn’t help matters. None of the Hammond boys had gotten along with Turreys since the Hammonds’ barn burned several years ago. Eugene’s brother Lester, along with Rorey, had been at fault and tried to coward out of it. And even though Lester had died in the war, everybody remembered the huge fight between Willy, Kirk, and Harry and four of the Turrey boys, including Eugene.
But Mom wasn’t concerned in the slightest. “If they haven’t put it past them by now,” she said, “at least they’ll behave themselves in our house.”
She was surely right. Kirk and Harry wouldn’t cause any trouble in my parents’ home, and Willy, the worst hothead, wouldn’t be around. As for Eugene, hopefully he’d have the sense to be decent, especially since he wouldn’t have his brothers along. Still, it would make for an uncomfortable dinner arrangement, except for the buffering presence of my parents.
I didn’t expect Frank to call Dad today. I figured he’d just be driving. But when Dad got home from work he sought me out first thing, before chores, the mail, or his cup of coffee. And I saw the concern in his face, like what he had to say might be upsetting.
“Frank called to tell me he hasn’t left yet. He wants you to come into the station with me tomorrow so he can talk to you about something important.”
The lightness I’d felt all day fled in an instant. Hasn’t left yet?
I could think of only two kinds of delay he’d need to talk to me about. He was called to preach and needed to speak at that church for another meeting. Or he’d changed his mind about Sam’s house and Mr. Pratt’s store.
The rest of the evening I was in such a stew I could hardly eat, even with everybody there. Of course there were questions at the table about Frank, but I answered them as briefly as I could, or not at all and let Dad answer for me. Everybody could probably tell I was bothered, even though I tried to hide it. And the whole thing seemed to amuse Rorey as soon as she found out that we’d expected him to leave today.
“You don’t never know what you’re gonna get with Frank,” she said. “Not from one minute to the next.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Mom disagreed quickly. “He’s proven himself to be faithful and reliable. No doubt he’s occupied with some good work. He’ll be back when he can.”
I appreciated Mom’s assertion, but I wished everyone would stop talking about him. Soon enough they did, but the conversation just got worse.
“We’re going bowling with Donald Mueller and his cousin tonight,” Eugene spoke up, turning his head to look at me. “He suggested you and Katie might want to come along. What do you say?”
“No possible way,” I grouched. I couldn’t discuss such a thing. I couldn’t even sit there while someone else discussed it, so I just got up and started clearing from the table whatever dishes people weren’t using anymore.
“I can take care of that,” Mom told me.
“I want to.”
“What about you?” Eugene was asking Katie. “You can still come.”
Katie wasn’t engaged, but she was serious enough about her boyfriend to be fiercely loyal. She made a face and glanced in my direction. “No, thanks. I’m planning to stay home and help Sarah sew on her wedding dress tonight.”
We hadn’t made such plans in advance, but I appreciated the gesture. Perhaps she’d chosen the words as a stark reminder of my status and the folly of the invitation. But she was true to her word. After cleanup was done and everybody was gone except our family and Emmie, we pulled out the fabric for my wedding dress and went to work. I could tell that Emmie Grace was worried about Frank and hoping we knew more than what we’d shared at dinner. But there was nothing else to tell her, so Mom kept her busy while Katie was keeping me busy, and we got through the evening.
I didn’t sleep well that night thinking that our future might be pinned on what Frank had to say tomorrow. I tried to pray about it, but I didn’t know how.
Trust.
The word kept coming back in my head.
I’d promised to trust. Was I doing that? Or was I failing miserably?
Lord, help me. I want to trust you. And him.
When the rooster jarred me awake before the morning sun, I lay in the stillness trying to think things through. Maybe the same church or another one had asked him to speak again and he’d felt led to agree. Maybe they wanted revival services, or a longer fill-in during a pastor’s absence. I could accept that. I could be proud of Frank in that. But he had no other reason to stay in Camp Point. After what he’d told me about Mr. Pratt’s store and his feelings about Sam’s offer, I felt certain he wouldn’t have changed his mind about those things. That couldn’t be it.
I got dressed, peered out the window, and was instantly struck with dismay. Snowing again! How could it be? The weather’d been so much nicer yesterday. For a moment my heart was in flutters, but surely it wouldn’t last. Dad would be willing to take me into town despite the snow. He knew Frank would never, ever say something was important unless it truly was. We had to be there for that call.
But Dad was cautious. “Weather’s looking iffy, pumpkin,” he told me as I came into the kitchen. “If it gets worse we won’t be able to go.”
I wanted to argue that we had to try, but I knew there was no use to that.
Dad took a sip of his coffee and sighed. “Charlie warned me not to come in to work today. He’d heard it was going to get bad again, but I was hoping he’d be wrong.”
“Maybe it’ll quit,” Mom suggested. “You don’t have to leave for another two hours.”
But if it didn’t quit, a lot of snow could come down in that time. Gloomily I did my part of the chores, praying the snow would stop. With growing exasperation, I could see my chances of getting to town for the phone call slipping away. Frank would understand. He would know that’s just the way it is sometimes in winter. But I hated it, nonetheless. We had what looked like six inches more on the ground already, and it showed no sign of stopping.
“I’m sorry,” Dad finally told me. “It wouldn’t be safe to get the truck out.”
Of course he was right. It would be foolhardy to try taking the truck to town in this. The sky was gray-white all over, and the snow was coming down stronger than before. We hadn’t seen anybody out with a snowplow yet. We could get stuck on the road or stuck in town. I felt like crying. But I could tell this bothered my father almost as much as it did me.
I gave up. As it came closer to the time when we should be leaving and the snow just kept on, I went back to the work on my wedding dress, resolved to use the time wisely. Dad went out earlier than anyone usually did to check the mail, and suddenly he came bursting back in, hollering.
“Sarah! Sarah, get bundled up! Orville can’t wait for long!”
Orville? The mailman? He was on time, and that must mean he was doing the route in his sleigh. Dad must have begged me a ride. He must have begged
us
a ride. It was clear pretty quickly that he was going too.
He had his coat on already but was gathering up blankets to wrap around us.
“Layer up,” he told me.
And I smiled. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too. Now hurry up.”
With coats and boots, double mittens, scarves and hats, and our arms full of blankets, we trudged out to the road to meet Orville Mueller’s sleigh. It didn’t occur to me that Orville was Donald’s cousin until I saw Donald sitting up front in the sleigh with him. I looked at Dad, but he only ushered me on without a word. No wonder he was coming along. There was no way my father would send me off alone with that hooligan and his cousin after what had been happening.
Donald looked at me close, but he didn’t say anything. I hoped Dad had told them why we wanted to get to town so badly. I hoped Donald realized that the chance to talk to Frank was well worth any kind of hassle in any kind of weather.
I knew what this meant to my father. We’d be stuck in town till Orville finished his mail route. And since we were interrupting to get him to haul us to the station, finishing would take him longer than usual. That would leave my father responsible for the mail being late to every person after us. He’d even be responsible if Orville’s boss got upset. I guess we’d owe him a pretty large favor.
We climbed in the sleigh and bundled the blankets around us. I took Dad’s hand. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“You and Frank,” he whispered back, “you’re worth it.”
Orville got his horses going to get us into town as quickly as he could. It was cold and the snow just kept up, but thank the Lord, we’d be getting there anyway. Hopefully soon enough. That was the thing that worried me. What if we got all the way there but missed the telephone call? Frank probably wouldn’t try repeatedly because if we weren’t there the first time, he would expect that the weather kept us from coming to town at all. And we couldn’t call him because he hadn’t given us a number to use.
Dad had a watch along and he glanced at it from time to time. I knew he was thinking what I was. What if we were too late? We’d have put Orville and ourselves through this trouble for nothing. And yet we had to try.
Come on, faster
, I wanted to urge Orville’s horses. But I knew they were doing the best they could.
Why hadn’t we been able to get a telephone at home yet like so many people we knew? Of course I knew the answer to that. The company was just slow getting the line out our direction. It was coming. This very summer, maybe even sooner. But that did us no good now.
I got awfully chilled, but Dad made sure I was well bundled to keep the snow and the cold out as best we could. “We’ll make it on time,” he assured me as the town drew near. “We’re doing all right, I think.”
But I knew we wouldn’t have much time to spare. As soon as the sleigh stopped at the station I jumped out quick without waiting for help. And I slipped on the ice almost right away, but I didn’t care. I jumped right back up and ran for the front door. But Dad had to unlock it. Charlie was probably out with his snowplow again. If we hadn’t come, Frank wouldn’t have found anybody at all.
Donald Mueller hadn’t said a single word on the whole ride. That seemed almost miraculous, except that my dad was along. And I think he’d told them what we needed. Donald surely realized by now that I was a closed door to him. I hoped so.