The Dixie Widow (36 page)

He opened his Bible and read, “ ‘Have faith in God.’ “ He continued with several more verses, and then Belle heard him say, “ ‘If you have ought against any . . . ‘ “ Startled, she looked up to find his eyes fixed on her—and she knew he was thinking of the afternoon Chaplain Eubanks had preached on the same text at Chimborazo. It was that night Lonnie had died, and the memory of how Davis had held her in his arms and comforted her leaped into her mind. Her face flushed, and she dropped her head, unable to hold his gaze.

His sermon was brief, using scripture after scripture, illustrating the need for forgiveness. To nourish unforgiveness and hatred, he told them, would lead not only to rejection at the judgment seat of God but destruction to the person himself here, in this life. The person harboring the bitterness would be more harmed than the one to whom it was directed.

He closed his Bible and said quietly, but with an earnestness that shone in his eyes, “I know what bitterness and unforgiveness can do to a person—for it came very close to destroying me. I hated someone with such violence that it ate away everything good in me—and if Jesus Christ had not come in to save me and take away that hatred, I would probably be in hell right this minute. But He can heal the brokenhearted. He can set the captives free. And it is to that power, which
He alone has, that I must look—and everyone in this church if we are to face the difficult days ahead.”

Davis concluded with a simple prayer, and dismissed the congregation. Many left without coming to meet Davis as he stood at the front of the church, while others, including the Winslows, stayed to welcome him.

Belle desperately wished she could avoid him but realized she would no doubt be seeing him often.

“Got work for you, Preacher,” Thad said after greeting Davis. “Pet and I are getting married next Friday afternoon at Belle Maison. Sure am glad you got here! I was beginning to think we’d have to import a Baptist!”

Davis smiled. “Guess it’ll be a first time for all three of us. I’ll probably be more nervous than the bride.”

“I’m glad you’re our pastor, Reverend Winslow,” Pet enthused. “I
know
we’re going to have a revival in the church. You wait and see!”

Sky thrust out his hand as he and Rebekah reached Davis. “I’m glad to see you—but you really gave me a jolt. Feels kinda strange having a relative as a pastor.”

“You know too much about us,” Rebekah added, taking his hand.

“And you about me,” Davis responded, remembering when she had confronted him with his true identity. Then he nodded to Belle, who was hanging back, and said, “My grandfather will be happy to hear you’re in my church, Mrs. Wickham. He thinks highly of you.”

As always any reference to her time in Washington brought a flash of guilt, but she said only, “How is he?”

“Very well. He’ll be coming to Richmond—or so he says. I’ll be petrified to preach with him here!”

“He’s very proud of you, I’m sure,” Belle commented. “I remember what great friends you are.”

Pet took Belle’s arm and said eagerly, “Brother Winslow, Belle is helping me with the wedding plans. You two will have to get together and work it all out.”

Davis caught Belle’s look of doubt, and replied, “I’m afraid that responsibility will have to be Mrs. Wickham’s. Just getting through the ceremony will take all my energy.”

Relieved, Belle said simply, “It’ll be a beautiful wedding.”

Asa Moody had been visiting with some of the people and now came to Davis. “You’ll have dinner with us, Reverend, won’t you? We’ve got a lot to go over.”

****

Davis was thankful for the approaching wedding, for it kept him busy—and gave him breathing space. He was well aware that not only the members of his own church but nearly all of Richmond were discussing the bishop’s strange choice. Davis met pastors of other churches, most of whom could not conceal the doubt in their eyes. Two ministers refused to speak to him, and five families of St. Andrew’s resigned.

“Don’t worry about them, Preacher,” Moody encouraged. “They’re soreheads and would only cause trouble. We’re better off without them.” Davis saw that the banker viewed the church members in much the same way he did his customers. He had the same careful way of looking at a man and estimating how much could be squeezed from him. But the man was cheerful, and being a Yankee himself he was delighted that Winslow had come.

Davis met with Belle at the Winslow home for dinner, at Sky’s insistence, the following Thursday night. But before their meeting, Rebekah approached him as he was standing at the window in the parlor, waiting for Belle and Pet to come downstairs.

She smiled faintly and asked, “How do I address you? As Mr. Winslow . . . or Reverend Winslow . . . or as Lieutenant Owen Morgan?”

A sadness flashed in his eyes at her query. “I can’t believe that somebody hasn’t actually seen through my masquerade, Rebekah. Are they all blind?”

“I think we see what we expect,” she replied. “Nobody
thought about the overweight, smooth-shaven Davis Winslow when they looked at Owen Morgan. They saw a man skinny as a rail with gaunt cheeks and a bushy beard. Now when we look at you, we see an older version of the young man who was here a couple of years ago. You’ve put on weight, the beard is gone, and your whole manner is different from what we saw when we looked at Owen Morgan.”

“It was wrong,” he said. “I still feel somehow that it wasn’t right to deceive all of you.”

“Remember Joseph in the Bible, Davis? How his brothers feared him after he revealed himself to them? They’d sold him for a slave—and their lives were in his hands. He said, ‘You thought evil against me, but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.’ If you’d died in Libby, what would have happened when that mob came? I think they’d have burned it down—with the loss of many lives.”

“I’m glad you can look at it in that light.” He hesitated, then said, “I feel very—strange is the word, I guess—when I’m around Belle.”

“What else do you feel about her, Davis?” Rebekah asked, her eyes fixed on him.

“I—I think you know,” he murmured. “I love her. But she feels nothing for me.”

“Don’t give up. She’s been very hurt.”

“I know. But it’s going to take a miracle.”

“We need a sackful of miracles, don’t we, Pastor Winslow?” Rebekah ticked them off on her fingers. “We’re going to lose this place if God doesn’t do something about the mortgage. You’re going to be ousted from St. Andrew’s if about 200 people don’t learn to accept a Yankee as their pastor, and Belle is going to dry up if she doesn’t learn to accept herself.”

Davis opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Pet and Belle entered. “Oh, Davis!” Pet cried, rushing in, “I’ve decided I can’t call you ‘Reverend’—except when others are around. After all, we
are
cousins, aren’t we?”

“I suppose we’re sort of fifth cousins, or something like that. My grandfather will be happy to inform you when he comes. First names are better, I think. Do you agree, Mrs. Wickham?”

“Of course.” Belle gave him an odd look that Rebekah didn’t miss, then asked, “Shall we go over the details of the wedding?”

Though Davis had declined at first to assist in the planning stage, the three spent an hour and a half working on details. In the midst of their discussion, Rebekah stuck her head in the door and called out, “Pet, come help me set the table.”

Pet was happy to escape, saying, “You two will have to do the rest. Besides, Belle knows what I want.”

Belle looked fondly at her sister’s retreating form. “She’s so excited about getting married. It’s funny, she never cared at all for parties or dresses—like the rest of us did.” She turned back to Davis, and her expression changed. “I feel so utterly—confused! When I saw you in church last Sunday, I wanted to die.”

“I knew it would be hard on you, Belle,” Davis replied. They were sitting opposite each other on overstuffed chairs. As always, her delicate, flawless beauty had a powerful effect on him, but he said only, “Are you angry, Belle—because I came?”

“N-no.” She hesitated, then added, “But for some reason, I’m afraid, Davis. It’s like living around a bomb that might go off any second!”

“Yes, I know the feeling,” he said ironically. “But I sense that it won’t be more than six months.”

Startled, her eyes opened wide. “Why, I didn’t know you were that sure to fail!”

“Like your mother says, Belle, we need a whole bunch of miracles.”

“One happened when you saved the hospital,” she responded. Her eyes sparkled at the thought. “I’ll never forget how you came charging down the street into that mob!”

Davis smiled at her expression. “I wish everything were as simple. Not too hard to fight that kind of battle. Others aren’t so easy.”

She dropped her eyes, feeling uncomfortable. She knew he referred to the two of them. Finally she excused herself. “I’d better help Mother and Pet.”

Suppertime was delightful, and Davis felt accepted by the Winslows. He saw no malice in anyone—except perhaps Beau Beauchamp, who was a guest that night. During the meal he maintained an uncharacteristic silence, but after dinner when the men met in the parlor, he began to question Davis about the intentions of the North.

“I hear that Congress is going to demand that ninety percent of the population of any state will have to sign loyalty oaths before the state will be readmitted,” Beau said. “And it’s common knowledge that many powerful men want to establish a military rule over us.”

“I haven’t heard anything like that, Mr. Beauchamp,” Davis replied. “I think it will depend on how the South behaves.”

“We’ve got to obey—or take the consequences?” Beau shot back. “They’ll strip us bare if we sit around with our hands in our pockets.”

Sky tried to head off the argument he saw coming. “Beau, we have to be patient. We have friends in the government. It won’t be easy, but for the next few years, we need to work at rebuilding our state.”

Beau would not be pacified, and rose hastily, saying, “Thank you for the evening. I’ll be at the wedding, Thad.”

“Doesn’t look as if he’ll calm down, does it?” Tom remarked as Beau walked out. “And he’s got lots of company.”

“Somebody has to fight for the South,” Dan defended heatedly. His cheeks were flushed, and he stared around defiantly, adding, “I’m going to join the White Knights myself!”

Sky stared at him hopelessly. He had argued the matter with the boy until there was nothing left to say, so he turned to Davis and stated, “I believe your father will have great
influence concerning the reconstruction of the South.” That ended the argument.

Davis left the Winslow home thinking about the various members of the family. Dan’s determination to join the White Knights showed a crack in the family solidarity, and Mark had told Davis about leaving soon to take a job on the Union Pacific railroad. The foundations were crumbling—not only for them but for the whole South.

The wedding on December 23 was everything Pet had hoped for. The house was filled with friends, and though the family had spent nearly all they had, Sky and Rebekah regretted none of it as Thad and Pet said their vows.

Pet, in a shimmering white gown, and Thad, in his new gray suit, made a handsome couple. The only nervous person seemed to be the minister!

After Belle and Davis had waved goodbye to the newlyweds, who had driven off for a week’s honeymoon, Belle said, “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it through the ceremony.”

“Never was so scared in my life,” he grinned. “They really are a fine couple, aren’t they?”

“Yes. So in love!” She shook her shoulders in a gesture of rebellion. “I always feel let down after a wedding. It’s always so anticlimactic! And there’s all that cleaning up to do!”

“I’ll help, Belle,” he volunteered. “I’m probably better at that than I am at performing wedding ceremonies,” he laughed.

“You did wonderfully well,” she said. “Your words about marriage—did all that come out of a book?”

“Some of it,” he admitted. “Remember the part about love that is real love never changing?”

Her eyes mirrored the doubts bombarding her. “You really believe that, Davis? That love is that strong?”

“Yes, I do,” he murmured. “But it’s rare to find that kind of love in this world of ours.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ON THE WAY HOME

The ministry of Reverend Davis Winslow provided a form of recreation for the citizens of Richmond during the cold days of January and February. His congregation gathered regularly to hear him preach, and for every die-hard Confederate that shook the dust of St. Andrew’s from his feet, one or two curious visitors would slip into a back pew and listen with curiosity to the Yankee preacher.

Dooley Young was one of the first of the rural people to come, but he did not slink in and claim a backseat. He marched into St. Andrew’s with his hair slicked back, his huge mustache brushed, and an innocent look in his bright blue eyes. He sat beside Thad and Pet and sang with unbridled enthusiasm, though off-key. After the service he grabbed Davis’s hand and with a vigorous handshake said, “Parson, that sermon took the rag off the bush! I ain’t heard such good preachin’ since I was a feeler for the Baptists over at Donaldson.”

“A feeler?” Davis asked, puzzled.

“Why, shore! At all the baptizin’s, I got out in the creek to feel around for a shallow spot for the dippin’!” Dooley grinned and passed though the door, calling over his shoulder, “You turn your wolf loose next Sunday morning, Reverend. I’ll bring you a hull bunch of sinners to work on!”

True to his word, the following Sunday the church was banked by two pews of Dooley’s relatives and friends, and they continued to attend. “Ain’t got no preacher out our way,”
Dooley’s mother, a short, heavy woman with eyes like her son, said. “You think you might hold us a camp meetin’ come spring, Reverend?” A sadness clouded her pleasant face, and she added, “Real bad times. Our young’uns ain’t got no school and no church. What’s to become of ’em, Reverend?”

Davis couldn’t forget Mrs. Young’s question, and for several days he struggled for a solution. He decided to visit the settlement where Dooley’s people lived. It was cold by the time he reached Belle Maison. Thad spotted him from where he was repairing a fence, and called out, “You’re turning blue, Preacher! Get off your horse and come inside. We’ll get you something hot.”