Through the Deep Waters (47 page)

“Mr. Irwin, may I talk with you about my training?”

Apparently she’d caught him in the midst of an important task because he drummed his fingers on the stack of papers on his desk in an impatient gesture. “What about it?”

Lord, help me …
“I want to make sure I’m … qualified.”

The manager frowned. “We’ve already discussed the qualifications. Mr. Harvey requires his servers be at least eighteen but not older than thirty years of age, attractive, intelligent, and of good moral character. We’re aware of your young age, but we waived the requirement given our unique circumstances here.”

Dinah’s pulse pounded with ferocity, making her breath come in short spurts. Her voice emerged in a mouselike squeak. “It isn’t the age qualification that troubles me. You see, I … I was born to a Chicago prostitute and raised in a brothel.”

The man’s eyebrows came together sharply. He drew back. “Oh?”

“Yes, sir. When my mother became very ill and I needed to pay for her care, I … I arranged to meet a businessman for an evening’s companionship.” As she spoke, she felt as though the dark cloud that had hovered over her head since her arrival in Florence broke apart into small, less threatening puffs.

She sat up straighter in the chair, and her voice lost its quaver. “I changed my mind and told him I didn’t want to do it, but he took his pleasure from me. And then I took his money. I used it to care for my mother in her last days, give her a proper burial, and buy train tickets to get out of Chicago.”

“You …” Mr. Irwin stared at her with horror-filled eyes.

Bravely, Dinah nodded. “I don’t ever intend to do something like that again. It was …” She swallowed, briefly reliving the pain and degradation of
that night in Chicago. She forced out in a rasping whisper, “It was awful.” Then she squared her shoulders and faced the manager again. “God has forgiven me. The Bible says He has thrown away my sin as far as east is from west. But what I did carries consequences. I didn’t want to mislead you, Mr. Irwin. I didn’t want to lie to you.”

The man sat as still as a fence post, seeming to stare straight through Dinah. She waited, but he didn’t speak.

While he sat in silence, she told him the rest. “I’ve recently accepted God’s Son as my Savior and God as my Father. From now on, I want to be an honorable child of God. Please forgive me for keeping my past a secret. If you decide this disqualifies me from being a server, I’ll accept it without a fuss.” Rising, she held her hand to him. “Thank you for the opportunity to work at the Clifton.”

Mr. Irwin made a strange little gurgling sound, as if someone had tied his tonsils in a knot, but he took Dinah’s hand and gave it a very brief shake. “I appreciate your … candor, Miss Hubley. I will share this information with Mr. Phillips, and certainly he’ll wire Mr. Harvey to seek his counsel. You’ll be apprised of our decision concerning your training for a server position before Thursday.”

Dinah expected a cloak of dread to drop over her. After all, her security was being threatened. But instead she only experienced a great sense of relief. She’d told. She said it all out loud. And admitting it had somehow diminished its power. Her lips tugged into a smile while tears of gratitude stung her eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Irwin. Coming here has changed me, and I will always be grateful.”

She stepped out of his office and walked directly into Ruthie, who stood just outside the door with her hands clamped over her mouth and her eyes wide and stricken looking. A bolt of fear sliced through Dinah. She grabbed Ruthie’s shoulders. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Dinah …” With her hands over her mouth, her words became a strangled mutter. “Oh, Dinah …”

She wove her arm around Ruthie’s waist and guided her into the chambermaids’
parlor. She closed the door behind them, then pulled Ruthie’s hands down and held them tight.
^“
What has happened?” It must be something terrible for Ruthie to be so distraught. Dinah held her breath, preparing herself for whatever tragedy Ruthie would share.

Ruthie shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to listen. I only came to deliver a message to Mr. Irwin from Mr. Gindough, but you were talking, and I heard and … and …” Bursting into tears, she flung her arms around Dinah. She stammered through sobs. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you. You really are like Jacob and Leah’s Dinah, who suffered harm because of Shechem’s selfish want. Oh, Dinah, I’m so sorry the man hurt you that way.”

As Ruthie continued to weep against her shoulder, Dinah’s tears spilled, too. She cried for Ruthie’s broken heart. For her own lost innocence. Even for the Bible-Dinah. The shared sorrow was healing, and a few of the black puffs remaining from the heavy cloud faded, washed away by the cleansing tears.

After several minutes the girls pulled apart. Dinah looked into Ruthie’s red, puffy face. “You’re a mess.” She pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and gave it to the other girl.

Ruthie huffed out a short laugh as she mopped her face. “No more than you.” She withdrew a lace hanky from her pocket and handed it to Dinah. “Here. Blow your nose.”

Dinah did so, and then they stood, holding each other’s rumpled handkerchief and staring sympathetically into each other’s eyes. Ruthie spoke first.

“I wish I’d known.” Regret pursed her face. “I was jealous of you, Dinah. First I was jealous because I thought you came from affluence. Then I was jealous because Mr. Ackerman gave you his attention. I was even jealous because you could make decisions for yourself without having to ask permission from anyone. I was so foolish and childish and wrong.” More tears quivered on her lower lashes. “Will you please forgive me?”

Dinah gave Ruthie an impetuous hug, amazed at the ease with which she embraced the girl. “I forgive you. And will you forgive me? All of those misunderstandings could have been avoided if I’d just told you the truth.”

“Of course!” The girls embraced again, then drew back, both smiling.

The emotional release left Dinah weak. She eased into one of the chairs and sagged against its sturdy back. “I feel so … free.”

Ruthie sniffled hard as she perched in the other chair. She gazed at Dinah with sympathy. “What an awful thing to carry. Little wonder you had such nightmares.” Then she jolted. “But they’ve stopped, haven’t they? I haven’t heard you cry out in days.”

Dinah released a contented sigh. “God took them away when I asked Him to take my sins away.”

A frown marred Ruthie’s face. “I need to tell you something. About your sin …” She nibbled her lip for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. She cupped her hand over Dinah’s before speaking more quietly and slowly than Dinah could remember. “You made a mistake by going to meet that man. Even though you needed the money to take care of your mother, which was an honorable thing to do, selling yourself wasn’t the right way to earn it. So you made a mistake.”

Dinah nodded, accepting Ruthie’s words without a sting of resentment.

“But the man who … who bought you—he is also at fault. You changed your mind. You said no and he didn’t listen. You tried to do right, and he forced himself on you.” Ruthie squeezed Dinah’s hand, the pressure pinching yet comforting at the same time. “You shouldn’t feel shameful over what he did. Do you understand?”

Dinah considered Ruthie’s statement. Was her guilt the result of her choice or the choice Mr. Sanger made? The feelings were all tangled together, making it difficult to sort them out. “I think I understand. And I’ll pray about it. God has already taken away my nightmares. He’s forgiven me for going to the hotel room. He can remove the shame from me, too, can’t He?”

Ruthie beamed. “He can do anything, Dinah. Remember what we read in Ephesians last night? He is able to do ‘exceeding abundantly above all’ we ask or think.”

Desire writhed through Dinah’s middle. “Can we ask Him now?”

Without a word Ruthie moved to her knees. Dinah knelt beside her and
they held hands. Ruthie prayed aloud. “Dear God, Dinah was hurt by someone, the same way Dinah in the Bible was hurt by Shechem. Shechem’s mistreatment of Dinah left a mark on her soul, and the man in Chicago did the same thing to my friend Dinah. But You don’t want us to cower beneath burdens of shame. So, God, erase the mark. It isn’t hers to carry. Give her complete freedom so she can be whole in body, spirit, and soul. Thank You for bringing us healing when we ask. In Your Son’s name, amen.”

They rose, and Ruthie gave her face one more swipe with the handkerchief. “We’d better go to work before Mr. Irwin bellows at us.”

As they left the parlor and went their separate ways, something whispered a reminder to Dinah. There was someone else who deserved to know the truth of her past. It would be harder to tell him than it had been to tell Mr. Irwin because she wanted his approval so badly. But she sensed once she’d told him, not one wisp of black cloud would haunt her.

Somehow, before she left town, she had to talk to Amos.

Amos

Amos reached the edge of town as the morning train was pulling in. He brought Ike to a stop a few feet from the tracks and watched the locomotive roll past. The engine whistle blasted, and Ike laid his ears flat to his skull and snorted, dancing in place. Amos gave the mule’s solid neck a pat. “There now, boy, I know it’s noisy but don’t bolt on me.” His cart still held ten dozen eggs—if Ike took a notion to escape the noise, the cart would likely tip.

Ike snorted again, but to Amos’s relief he only pawed the ground. He continued to give the animal comforting pats and talked softly into his flattened ears until the caboose had passed. Then he gave Ike’s sides a little nudge with his heels, and they headed up Main Street. He couldn’t resist sending a glance toward the Clifton Hotel as they crossed the tracks. His heart lurched when he spotted two women on the station’s boarding platform, one with a red-gold bun and the other with upswept waves the color of honey. Miss Mead and Dinah. A brocade bag rested on the platform next to their feet.

Instinctively he tugged the reins and intoned, “Whoa.” Ike stopped, and Amos watched the two women embrace, then catch hands. He frowned, wishing he could hear what they were saying. He fidgeted on Ike’s back, battling the urge to go to the station, to give Dinah a farewell the way Miss Mead was now doing. Seeing her again, even from a distance, raised the familiar mingle of love, anger, regret, and disillusionment.

She was leaving now. He would be able to bury the dream of building a life with her. He should be happy. But the heaviness in his chest wasn’t from joy. He sighed and tapped Ike’s sides again. “Come on, boy. Let’s get these eggs delivered.”

Over the next three hours, he went door to door and sold all but one dozen of the eggs to people in town. With noon approaching he decided he’d been in town long enough. “Let’s go to the grocer, Ike—buy a few provisions.” Ike snorted a reply. As Amos looped Ike’s reins on the hitching post, the storekeeper stepped out on the porch and flicked a glance across the sky.

“Look at that. Clear as clear can be.” Mr. Root sounded disgusted.

Amos chuckled. “I’m enjoying the clear sky. Even though it’s still cold, that bright sun makes it seem warmer. And there’s no wind today for a change. I’d say it’s a good day.”

Mr. Root shook his head. “Sure it’s a good day. But I don’t understand it.” He pointed at his right knee. “This thing’s telling me a storm is brewing. For seven years now, I’ve been able to predict every storm whether summer, spring, winter, or fall by the ache in my knee. But I don’t see one single sign of a storm. So that means my knee’s now giving me aches over my age.” He flung one more venomous look toward the sky, then marched back into the store, mumbling under his breath.

Hiding his smile, Amos followed the owner inside and collected the items he wanted to purchase. As he laid them on the counter, he started to ask if he could get credit for the last dozen eggs in his cart. But another idea struck. Why not take them to the Clifton? He wanted to remind the manager how he was building his flock. Now that Dinah had left—his heart panged, but he gritted his teeth and pushed the ache aside—he could go there without worry. After talking to the manager, he could give the eggs to the chef as a promise of more to come. So even though the credit would be a boon, he paid for his purchases out of his pocket and then aimed Ike for the Clifton.

Not until he slid down from Ike’s back and limped to the cart did he remember he hadn’t brought a basket to carry the eggs into the hotel. Grimacing, he scratched his head and finally decided to fill his jacket pockets. The large squares of cloth stitched on three sides to the flaps of his coat were big enough to each hold a half-dozen eggs. He carefully placed the eggs in his pockets, then made his way into the foyer.

Up the hall the luncheon counter was crowded with diners. Good smells
wafted from the area, and happy chatter filled the air. But the pleasant scents and cheerful noises reminded Amos of the many lunches he’d shared with Dinah. He hadn’t realized how hard it would be to enter this place of memories. He came to a halt midway between the door and the check-in counter.