Song for Silas, A (10 page)

Dear Silas,

Baxter is not the same without you. I feel as though you have been gone for months. Josh continually crawls down the hallway to your room and bangs on the closed door.

Luke said the extra work from your absence is not nearly as hard as your missed companionship. Enclosed is a letter from Frank Chambers. He wrote while here to deliver the horses and asked me to send it with mine. Frank took the entire first evening of his visit to try and talk Luke into convincing you to go to work for him in Chicago. Luke heard him out, but told Frank in no uncertain terms that the decision was yours and he would not interfere.

We, of course, want God’s will in this, but the thought of you living elsewhere makes me unhappy. We’re praying you will know what to do, for this is the only way you’ll be at peace.

Please write us. God bless you.

Love,

Luke, Christine, and Joshua

Dear Si,

I saddled my horse today and rode down by the creek. I ended up in the spot where we had that huge mud fight as
kids. As I recall, Dad warmed our backsides for that one. Sitting in that spot, I missed you so much I cried.

The boys are ready to be out of school for the summer. It shows in their restlessness. Last week Cal locked Charlie in an old trunk in the barn. Their father found them, and I noticed they both sat down carefully at the supper table that night. I guess things never change; each generation gets their share of spankings.

Mac said to tell you Sunday dinner at Gram’s is not going to be the same until you come home.

If you don’t hear from Sue, it’s because she isn’t feeling very well these days. She hasn’t said, but I suspect she’s pregnant.

Please tell the Nolans that we’re praying for all of you and that they can’t keep you forever.

Love,

Julia and family

It was the afternoon of the following day before Silas sat down to read his letters. Silas prayed immediately for Sue and the new life possibly growing within her. She and Mark were so happy together that Silas was sure this would only add to their joy.

“Oh God,” Silas prayed in his heart, “another niece or nephew. When God? When will I have children of my own? Surely this desire to be a husband and father is from You.” Silas sat in painful confusion and tried very hard to thank God for the things he had and not the things missing in his life.

“Be still and know that I am God.” The words came gently to Silas. He wasn’t even sure of the reference. Maybe somewhere in the Psalms. For the first time, the words became real for him. God was in control. Be still, for He would have His perfect way.

Silas stopped praying. He lay back on his bed and looked toward heaven. Even as he saw the beamed ceiling above him, his heart grew calm and peaceful.

God was in control of Grant, Amy, and him. If Amy was meant to live with her father for the rest of her years, then she and Silas would be miserable as husband and wife. If Amy was to be his wife, then God would change her heart and Silas would have to learn patience.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

“Please God,” Silas prayed, “keep those words before my eyes.”

Silas lay still for long minutes before he reached for the letter from Frank. He had just started it when Amy called to him. She sounded anxious, and Silas rushed down the stairs.

“Oh Silas, will you help me? Dad has caught a spring cold. He said he would feel better if we put some pillows behind his back.” Grant did indeed sound congested, and Silas was glad to do anything to make him more comfortable.

Silas was still in the room when Amy left and returned with a large bottle and spoon. Grant ignored the spoon and took two healthy swigs. Returning the bottle to Amy’s hand, Grant said, “This will put me right. Thanks, honey.”

Amy followed Silas from the room, taking the bottle with her. Once in the kitchen, Silas noticed she looked a bit pale. He wondered if maybe she was coming down with a cold, too.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so. I’m just a little tired.” As Amy spoke, she reached for and began to peel potatoes. Silas was instantly by her side. “Amy, let me get supper so you can rest.”

“No Si, you still have the milking to do and it’s not fair that you get your own supper.” Silas didn’t argue with her but decided to get the chores and milking done quickly. He could tell Amy needed help whether she would admit it or not. He checked Grant as he went out and found him soundly sleeping.

Two hours later Silas was just finishing outside. On this of all the nights, when he was in a hurry, everything seemed to go wrong. He’d been kicked twice by an uncooperative cow, and he was not paying attention as he lit a lantern and nearly set the barn ablaze. Those were just a few of the things that delayed his finishing. He moved toward the kitchen, worry for Amy hurrying his steps.

Amy was at the stove when he came in. Strangely, she did not have a greeting for him. Silas washed up in record time and went to her side near the stove. She was looking at a large pot and did not acknowledge his presence.

“Amy, how are you doing?” She did not reply or look at him. “Amy?”

“I can’t find my spoon.”

Silas picked up a large spoon that was sitting very near her hand. Amy’s head came up and, after she focused in on the spoon, her face broke into a huge smile.

Silas saw that her face was flushed and her eyes too bright. “Amy, I think you’re sick. Let me do this.” The smile turned instantly into a fierce scowl and Amy waved the spoon about as she spoke. “I can do it, Silas. It’s my kitchen.”

Silas watched as she thrust the spoon into the pot, nearly submerging her hand, and began to stir vigorously.

Silas stood in confusion. Amy was not acting at all like herself, and her speech was slightly slurred. His gaze swung away from her and his eyes caught something on the kitchen table. The large bottle of medicine was sitting open with a wet spoon beside it.

Silas walked toward the bottle with a sinking heart. His head jerked back in repulsion after waving the bottle beneath his nose. Silas was no judge of liquor, but if smell was any indication, the stuff was 90 proof.

Amy was drunk.

Silas quickly set the bottle down and returned to the woman at the stove. Her stirring had slowed down to a methodical movement that seemed to be hypnotizing her. He wondered how much she had taken.

Silas headed for Grant’s room. That girl needed to be in bed, and Silas needed some help if nothing more than advice. But Grant was sound asleep, out cold. Silas headed back to the kitchen in consternation.

He arrived to see Amy lift the pot and nearly scald herself. She righted the pot just in time, but Silas’ mind was made up. He gave her no time to protest as he took the spoon and pot from her and began to guide her out of the kitchen. But his touch was too light on her arm and she easily pulled away from him, saying as she did that she must finish supper. At least, that’s what it sounded like.

Silas tried to reason with her: “Amy, you’re sick and should be in bed.” But Amy chose to ignore him and tried to get back to the stove.

Silas’ next move was to get behind Amy. With his chest to her back and walking slowly, he got her as far as the living room before she turned around and Silas found himself hugging her. At any other time hugging Amy would have delighted him, but his skill with inebriated women was nonexistent and he just wanted to see her safely to her room.

Amy let out a little squeal when Silas gave in and swung her up into his arms. Her head swam and she threw her arms around his neck and closed her eyes.

She did not open them until Silas sat her down on the chest at the end of her bed. Silas hunkered down in front of her and Amy tried hard to concentrate on what he was saying. Everything felt so warm and fuzzy.

“Amy, you need to get ready for bed. I’ll get your gown if you tell me where it is.” Silas hated even this small intimacy, but he had no choice.

Amy continued to look at him with a small smile on her face, so Silas tried again. “Amy, sweetheart, please try.…”

“I love it when you call me sweetheart.” Amy’s smile grew to just short of a leer.

“Oh boy,” Silas thought, “I’ve got to get out of here or I’m going to kiss her, drunk or not.”

Silas’ hands flew to Amy’s shoes, removing them quickly. A fast search of the room produced Amy’s robe and nightgown from the hook on the back of the door. When he set the garments beside her, she informed him that some beast was wrapped around her waist. Silas unknotted the apron strings she had been demolishing and pulled her quickly to her feet.

He thrust the clothing into her arms and commanded, “Put these on, Amy. Now!” With that he exited the room, nearly slamming the door in his haste.

Silas leaned back against the closed door and prayed. He heard bumping sounds from in the room, and then Amy broke into song.

Silas rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and headed for Grant’s room. He was still very deep in sleep.

All was quiet in Amy’s room as Silas returned to stand outside the door. He waited a moment in indecision and then quietly opened the door.

Amy lay across the bed in her nightgown and robe humming to herself. She raised her head, and Silas could see she was very sleepy.

With utmost care, Silas pulled the covers back and lifted her into his arms. He tucked her within the blankets, robe and all. She was asleep before Silas could straighten. He stood looking at her a moment, wishing he could tell her what was in his heart, before quietly leaving the room.

The small copse of trees had seemed like a good hiding place the night before when running from an outraged farmer with a shotgun. But as dawn began to light the sky, the joints and muscles of both men were doubting the wisdom of their decision.

“You think it’s safe?”

“Yea, I just hope nobody found the horses.”

“If we’re gonna get shot at, I’m gonna ask for more money.”

“You just let me do the talkin’, little brother. You go shooting your mouth off, and we’ll be out of work fast.”

“Okay, okay, I just don’t like sleeping out of my bed. Makes me sore for days.”

“Stop whining. We got the money and that means we get paid. Come on, let’s get back to town.”

Silas moved slowly in an attempt to relieve the ache in his back, brought on by a night on the living room sofa. The piece of furniture was neither long enough nor wide enough to support his frame, and he had found little rest upon it.

The night before Silas had made sure that both bedroom doors were open. Amy had slept through the night, but Grant
had stirred twice. Silas had seen to his comfort both times and once had given him more medicine.

Grant had shown no pity on Silas when he described Amy’s bout with the medicine. He laughed and told Silas that a man who had been allowed to stay the night in the barn a few years ago had given it to him. The man swore it would knock a cold or flu right out of your system.

Grant had not had any suspicions about the contents until his next cold. But it had worked so fast that he didn’t care what was in it.

Amy, to his knowledge, had never used it. But then, she rarely got sick. He had asked Silas to check on her then for his peace of mind. Silas had found her warm, but not alarmingly so. Knowing Amy was fine, Grant had gone back to sleep with the help of more medicine. Silas had returned to his temporary bed in the living room and asked God to heal both father and daughter quickly.

Now it was time to do the milking and, with a quick check on both his sleeping patients, Silas headed outside.

Amy stretched and squirmed under the heaviness of the bed covers. Something felt strange to her, but she was too sleepy to figure it out. Well, at least her head was clear. Last night as she was fixing supper she knew she had caught a cold along with her dad. She could not believe how fast her head had stuffed up.

On impulse, she had taken some of his medicine and, being unsure of the proper dosage, had drunk several tablespoons. Amy’s mind stopped in confusion then. The rest of the evening seemed rather vague.

No worry, really, she thought. It had obviously done the trick with as good as she felt. With a sweep of her arm, she threw back the quilts and swung her feet to the floor.

She stared down at her feet in surprise when she noticed she still had one stocking on. Catching sight of herself in the big oval mirror over her dresser, Amy saw that the extra weight in her bed had been her robe and that her hair was still pinned up.

A sudden vision of Silas carrying her through the door and then of him untying her apron at the foot of the bed made Amy’s eyes go wide. She began to notice small things. The curtains were not pulled closed and her clothes were thrown all over the room. And her Bible—it was closed. She always opened her Bible to the place where she was reading so she could reach right for it, first thing in the morning.

She reached for it now, and it somehow gave her comfort. “Oh God,” she prayed, “You know what I’m thinking, but it just can’t be true. Silas would never do that.”

Amy was by nature a levelheaded girl. She now used some of her logic to calm herself. She would go about her normal routine and simply ask Silas when she saw him.

Amy dressed, made her bed, and read her Bible. After she closed her father’s door to give him quiet, breakfast was the next step in her routine.

But all Amy’s coolheaded thinking flew out the window when Silas came in from milking. Before even washing up, he came toward her with a wide smile and asked how she felt.

To Amy’s embarrassment, she blushed a fiery red and blurted out, “Silas, how did I get to bed last night?”

Horror overcame her as Silas’ own cheeks turned pink and he stared down at the toes of his boots. “Oh no,” Amy’s mind protested.

When Silas looked up, he knew immediately what she was thinking. “No, Amy, no.” Silas was equally horrified. “I just helped you with your shoes and apron. You got yourself ready for bed. You were falling asleep on top of the quilts and I tucked you in. I swear that was all.”

Amy looked relieved but still embarrassed. “I guess Dad’s medicine is a bit strong.”

For the first time Silas saw humor in the situation, and his grin clearly showed his amusement. “You, Miss Nolan, were quite drunk last night.”

Amy eyed him warily and asked, “What did I say?”

“Ah, now that would be telling.”

“Silas Cameron,” Amy scolded, “how dare you tease me about something so embarrassing.”

Silas laughed then and assured her she had been a perfect lady. Amy did not look completely convinced, but she couldn’t have been too upset for she served him an enormous breakfast and they talked like old friends during the meal.