Dinner at the St. James Read online

  Daniel’s eyes grew wide, and he held up his hands and shook his head. “No, sir. I don’t want your money. It’s quite another matter.”

  A puzzled expression crossed the man’s face as he stuffed the money back into the drawer and closed it. “Then what is it you need?”

  Daniel cleared his throat. “Well you see, sir, a few months ago, I accepted Christ as my Savior, and Mr. Whittaker has been teaching me about the Bible. A few of the men who live at the same boardinghouse saw us reading the Bible, and they began to ask questions. Mr. Whittaker encouraged me to start a Sunday morning Bible study in my room. Then some other fellows heard about it, and they came, too. Soon, we’d outgrown my room, and we had to use the boardinghouse dining room. But sometimes we have to finish early so Mrs. Whittaker can serve the noon meal.”

  Mr. Smith chuckled. “How many do you have attending now?”

  Daniel wrinkled his brow and mentally counted the men who’d been attending regularly. “About ten or twelve, but this week I had four more men tell me they’d be there tomorrow. The problem is we need another place to meet.”

  Mr. Smith stared at him. “But how can I help you?”

  Daniel glanced over his shoulder. “Well you see, sir, I asked the men if they’d like to start going to a regular church, but they said they didn’t think they’d fit in at a city church. They want to keep our group together. You have a mighty big warehouse here. I wondered if you would let us meet here for Sunday services. We wouldn’t bother anything, and we’d clean up after ourselves. I’d be glad to pay you each week when I get paid.”

  Mr. Smith picked up a pen from his desk and studied it for a moment before he looked back at Daniel. “No need for you to pay me anything. I’ll be glad for you to hold services here.” His gaze wandered over Daniel. “So you’re a preacher?”

  Daniel frowned and shook his head. “No. I’m just a man who’s learned a lot from Mr. Whittaker, and I promised God I’d go wherever He led. These men have a real hunger in their hearts to hear God’s Word. Some of them are far from home, and they’re lonely. They need to know that God can give them peace.”

  “It appears Mr. Whittaker has taught you well.”

  Daniel nodded. “Yes, sir, he has, and I’m still learning. But God did a miracle in my life, and I have to tell other people about it.”

  Mr. Smith leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Well, tell your friends to come here tomorrow and every Sunday afterward for services. You’re welcome to use my warehouse as long as you need it.”

  Daniel stood up and backed toward the door. “Thank you, Mr. Smith. Mr. Whittaker said you were a kind man who loves the Lord. I appreciate your helping us out.”

  Mr. Smith held up a hand to stop him. “Tell me, Mr. Luckett, do all of the men have Bibles?”

  “No, sir, but the ones who do share with the others.”

  Mr. Smith’s stubby finger tapped on his desk for a moment. “Tomorrow when you get here, there will be a box filled with Bibles inside the front door. Tell every man who doesn’t have one to take one as a Christmas present from me.”

  Daniel couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He shook his head in disbelief. “I’ve been praying I could find enough Bibles for all the men to have one. I shouldn’t be surprised when God answers my prayers, but I still am.”

  “That’s a natural reaction we all have, because we can’t begin to understand God’s love.” Mr. Smith glanced down at his desk and then motioned for Daniel to leave. “Well, go on now. I have some work to do. I hope you have a good service tomorrow, and tell the men I wish them a merry Christmas.”

  Daniel grinned. “I’ll tell them, and I hope you have a merry Christmas, too.”

  Daniel pulled his hat on and hurried from the building. When he was on the street again, he stuck his hands in his pockets and stared up into the sky. “Thank You, Lord. You’ve provided for us again.”

  He whistled a tune he’d heard one of the men singing the other day, a song of the river, the man had said. For some reason, the melody made him think of Tave. He wondered what kind of Christmas she was going to have. She was probably married to Matthew by now and planning a celebration at her new home.

  The memory of her smile and her long auburn hair stirred a longing in him that he knew would never go away. He wished he could tell her she was right about how he needed God in his life. He’d started to write her several times to tell her God had brought peace into his heart, but each time he’d torn up the letter and thrown it away.

  It would do no good to stir up old memories. She had a new life now, and he prayed she was happy.

  ❧

  Tave left Mr. Perkins’s store and hurried toward her father’s office. Christmas Eve was only two days away, and she still had so much to do. She’d baked the jam cakes yesterday, but she still had to make the gingerbread she’d promised to take with them to Cottonwood on Christmas Day. She also had to finish the scarf she was knitting for her father to wear when he made house calls outside of town in cold weather.

  She rushed through the doorway of her father’s office. “Poppa, are you here?”

  He appeared from the small kitchen, a cup in his hand. “I’m right here. Would you like to join me for some coffee?”

  Tave shook her head. “I don’t have time. I’ve been over to Mr. Perkins’s store. Savannah was there, and she reminded me that we needed to be out at Cottonwood in time for Christmas dinner on Tuesday.”

  “Did you tell her we wouldn’t miss it?”

  She laughed. “I did. She said she and Mamie are planning a feast. My mouth watered just listening to her talk.”

  Her father smiled and motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen. “I just put some wood in the cookstove. It’ll be warmer in here.”

  They sat down at the table, and Tave glanced around the room. Since school had started, she’d had little time to come by her father’s office except for quick visits to check on him. She had hardly been in this room since she’d last cooked the meals that she, her father, and Daniel had shared.

  Her gaze fell on the dry sink, and she recalled how Daniel’s hand had once touched hers while standing there. Her chest tightened, and she blinked to keep tears from forming in her eyes.

  Her father leaned forward, a worried expression on his face. “What’s the matter? Don’t you feel well?”

  She laughed and touched the corner of her eye. “It’s nothing.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and set the cup back on the table. He reached across the table toward her. “We don’t talk much about Daniel, darling, because I don’t want to upset you. But I want you to know that I’m here for you anytime you need me.”

  She smiled and patted his hand. “I know you are. Having you and Savannah to give me moral support has gotten me through these past months.” She sighed and pressed her fingertips to her temples. Closing her eyes, she tried to massage away the pain that seemed to hover at the back of her eyes all the time. “For a long time, I kept thinking he’d come back, but I’m about to give up hope.”

  “Do you want him to come back?”

  She’d asked herself that question many times. “I don’t want him to come back the way he was. I keep praying that something we said finally got through to him, and that he’s changed. If he has, then I hope he does.”

  Her father’s forehead wrinkled. “How long are you going to wait? I don’t want to see you waste your life, hoping for something that may never happen.”

  “I know you don’t, but I can’t answer your question. My heart’s not ready to give up on him yet.”

  Her father grinned. “Well, I have to admit I haven’t had to go looking for opponents who want to beat me at checkers. There’ve been several young men who’d like to get to know you better. I especially like Joshua Tucker. He’s not much of a checkers player, but he loses well.”

  “Joshua is a good friend, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know him. That’s as far as it will ever go with us.” Tave crossed her arms
and rolled her eyes. “But you needn’t worry about me ever finding a husband. I’m never going to get married because you scare off all the men by crushing their spirits when you beat them.”

  He laughed and pushed to his feet. He came around the table, placed his hand on her shoulder, and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad you can joke about it, darling. But I can see in your eyes that your heart is broken over Daniel. I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”

  She turned her head and kissed his hand. “Thank you for caring, Poppa. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  The bell over the front door of the office jingled, and a man’s voice called out. “Doc, you here?”

  Her father sighed. “It sounds like I have a patient. You go on home, and I’ll see you there.”

  Tave waited until her father took the man into his office and closed the door. Then she stood up, picked up her basket, and walked to the bedroom where Daniel had lain when he was so ill. She stood in the door and recalled the times she’d prayed beside his bed.

  A longing to see him ripped through her, and she grasped the door frame to keep from collapsing. “Oh, God,” she whispered, “when am I going to stop missing him?”

  She stared into the room for a few more minutes, and then she squared her shoulders and left the building. As she passed the livery stable, Mr. Jensen waved to her from the corral. “Merry Christmas, Miss Spencer.”

  She smiled and waved back. “Merry Christmas to you, Mr. Jensen.”

  Christmas had always been her favorite time of year since she was a child. This year, though, she felt no joy in her heart. It had disappeared the day Daniel Luckett rode out of Willow Bend.

  Twelve

  July had come again and with it the blazing heat that threatened to cause every plant and blade of grass to shrivel and die.

  Tave could hardly believe a year had passed since Daniel’s departure. Another school year had drifted by, and the summer break was half over. There hadn’t been much excitement in Willow Bend in the last twelve months unless she could count the June wedding of Esther Thompson to Joshua Tucker, Tave’s friend and a tenant farmer out at Winterville Plantation. Martha hadn’t quit talking about her new son-in-law for weeks, but everybody else went about their business, content to let one day blend into another. Before Tave knew it, she was one year older.

  Sometimes one of her students would remind her of the day she fell playing hopscotch, and she would smile as they recalled last year’s church picnic. At times, thoughts of Daniel would flash through her mind and be gone before she had time to dwell on them. At other times, the memory of his deep blue eyes and the way her skin had tingled the day he almost kissed her would sweep over her and leave a desolate emptiness in her heart. Today was one of those times.

  The thoughts had probably been brought on by her task of cleaning the patient bedroom at her father’s office. The patchwork quilt had been taken back to their house months ago, and she had packed it away. She couldn’t stand to see the covering—a reminder of another time in her life.

  With a sigh, Tave grabbed the broom she’d brought into the room and began to whisk it back and forth across the wood floor. Work was what she needed. Anything to take her mind off the memories this room evoked.

  The front door opened, and her father’s familiar footsteps echoed through the empty building. “Tave? Are you here?”

  She stepped from the room and smiled. He’d been gone all night, and the rumpled shirt and trousers he wore told her he’d been busy. “I was beginning to worry about you.”

  He set his medical bag on a table, dropped down in a chair, and closed his eyes. “I’m exhausted. I’ve been to three different farms along the river since I left here yesterday afternoon.”

  Tave set the broom aside and hurried to stand behind him. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she rubbed the tight muscles as she often did when he was so tired. “Three? That’s a lot of families to have sickness at one time.”

  He nodded. “Yes, and I’m afraid they’re just the beginning.”

  Tave’s body tensed, and her fingers stilled. “Why? What’s the matter?”

  “Yellow fever,” he whispered.

  Tave flinched at the words that could cause panic in the strongest of hearts. She pulled her hands from her father’s shoulders and walked around the chair to face him. “Yellow fever? Are you sure?”

  He rubbed his hands across his eyes. “I wish I wasn’t.”

  She swallowed back the fear building inside her. “How many cases so far?”

  “Two at a tenant farmer’s home at Cottonwood, one over at the new Oak Hill owner’s house, and Mrs. Somers.”

  Tave could barely believe what her father was saying. “Are any of them critical?”

  “The only one who is right now is Mrs. Somers. I don’t know what made them wait so long to let me know. Reverend Somers said she kept telling him she was going to be all right. By the time I got there, she had already developed jaundice.”

  “Oh no.” Tave’s mind raced at what the next few weeks could bring to their quiet little town. “Do you think I need to go over to help with Mrs. Somers?”

  Her father jerked upright in the chair, and his eyes widened in fear. “No. You need to stay away from any of the sick. I don’t want you coming down with this.”

  She smiled and patted her father’s hand. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who’s always believed this terrible disease is caused by some kind of insect, a gnat you said.”

  He nodded. “I know. But I’ve been ridiculed by every medical group I’ve ever presented my theory to. Until somebody finds out the real cause of it, I want you to take every precaution.” Tears filled his eyes. “You’re all I have in this world, and I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

  “And neither could I if you became ill. You’re the one who’s going to be with all these sick people. I’d think you’d be more at risk than I would be.”

  He sighed. “If this becomes an epidemic, and I pray it won’t, I may need you. But not until that time. Do you understand?”

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes. Now I want you to lie down on the sofa in your office and get some rest. I’ll stay here in case someone comes for you.”

  He pushed to his feet. “I think I’ll do that.” He walked toward the door to his office but stopped and turned toward her before he entered. “Tave, please pray that we’ll only have a few isolated cases.”

  She smiled. “I will, Poppa.”

  The look in his eyes, however, told her that he didn’t think they’d escape this disease so easily. She had the feeling dark days awaited the residents of Willow Bend.

  ❧

  A week later, Tave knew she’d been right. Nearly every home along the river had reported at least one case of yellow fever. Her father was nearing exhaustion from little sleep, but he wouldn’t refuse any call for help. With the death toll at fifteen, the first being Reverend Somers’s wife, and more cases being reported every day, he moved like he lived in a dream world.

  Tave glanced around her father’s office that had been converted into an emergency hospital for the most serious cases. The community had responded to the call for beds, and all ten that had been donated were filled with patients. Tave didn’t know where they would place the next victim. She prayed there wouldn’t be another one.

  The mothers of three patients hovered near the children’s beds, and Tave was grateful for their help. Most people were afraid to venture into the midst of the disease. She’d found herself giving aid to the other seven people near death.

  She had even become immune to the stench in the room from the constant vomiting of those so sick. It never ceased to amaze her how much strength God could provide when it was needed.

  A whimper from one of the beds caught her attention, and she hurried to kneel beside an elderly man who lived alone in a small house at the edge of town. He didn’t mingle with the town folks much and appeared to live off his
garden and the fish he caught in the river.

  As Tave bent over him, she realized how she’d failed in the past to make an effort to know this man. Maybe he’d lived a lonely life, waiting and hoping for someone to act as if they cared. She wet a cloth and rubbed his face.

  He opened his eyes, and Tave flinched at the yellow tint that had even invaded his pupils. She reached for a glass of rice-water on the table beside his bed. She lifted his head from the pillow and placed the glass on his lips, but he was unable to drink. Lowering him, she picked up a spoon and began to feed him the water.

  She’d just completed the task when the front door opened. She glanced over to see Savannah and Mamie Clark walking inside. Tave jumped up and rushed across the room. “What are you two doing here?”

  Savannah pulled her bonnet from her head and her nostrils flared. For a moment, Tave thought Savannah was going to be sick, but she straightened her shoulders and turned a determined look on Tave. “From the looks of things, you and your father need some help. Mamie and I have come to volunteer.”

  Tave shook her head. “No, you can’t do that. You have children to take care of. What if you get sick?”

  Savannah waved her hand in dismissal. “Mamie and I had this conversation with Dante and Saul. We can’t go through life being afraid of what might happen. We have to trust God to take care of us. We’re here to do His work with these people in need.”

  Mamie smiled, and her eyes lit up her dark face. “Miss ’Vanna’s right. We gwine help any way we’s can. So jest tell us what needs a-doin’.”

  Tave grasped their hands. “Thank you so much. Come with me. I’ll show you.”

  She led the way to the kitchen and explained how they were treating the patients with plenty of liquids, the only known treatment to counteract the fluids they were losing from vomiting. “They’re all running high fevers, and they’re restless from aching muscles. Poppa says we should keep cool cloths on their heads and try to get some liquids down them. We’re using black tea with a little sugar in it and rice-water. We need to keep a supply of each of those.”Mamie nodded. “I kin take care of that.”