Beyond the Quiet Hills (20 page)

They sang many songs that morning, all standing, but no one seemed to grow tired. Hawk noticed that Jacob had a fine singing voice but Andrew did not. Hawk especially reveled in the words of the hymn
Great God of Wonders
by Samuel Davies. His voice rose as he sang the second stanza:

In wonder lost with trembling joy

We take the pardon of our God;

Pardon for crimes of deepest dye,

A pardon bought with Jesus' blood;

A pardon bought with Jesus' blood.

Glancing over to the other side of the crowd he saw Sequatchie standing close beside Paul Anderson. He was wearing his full regalia as a chief of the Cherokee and looked statuesque and colorful. Others in the crowd had on their Sunday best. It was a time out from work, from labor, from the incessant driving chores that consumed all of them six days of the week. This Sunday was an island on which they could all gather and rest and hear the Word of God proclaimed.

Paul Anderson was wearing a simple dark suit, and his sandy brown hair caught the light as the sun broke forth from the fluffy clouds overhead and spread itself gently on the congregation that waited for him to begin the sermon. Rhoda stood with the other women to his right. When his eyes touched on her with pride, she smiled slightly. He knew her smile meant, “I'm proud of you, Paul,” and thus encouraged, he began to speak.

“We are happy to have in our midst,” he said firmly, “Chief Attacullaculla, and I have been interested in his other name, the Little Carpenter. I've been impressed this morning to speak of another man who was called a carpenter. I speak, of course, of the Lord Jesus. As you all know, He was, when He was here on this earth, a real carpenter. We have little record of His activities, but it was very likely that He was a good workman, able to use the adze, the plane, the chisel, the hammer. All that a skilled craftsman following the trade of carpenter would use. . . .”

The minister's voice rose clearly above the sounds of the birds and the rustling of the green leaves in the trees that surrounded the clearing. There was a warmth in Paul Anderson's eyes that communicated itself well to his hearers. Here was a man who loved people and who had proved it by going to the far-off reaches to preach the gospel to the Cherokee. He also had proved it in his daily life in the community by his good-heartedness and willingness to get his hands dirty and to help, but now he was doing that which God had called him to do, speaking of the great gospel, and excitement tinged his talk as he continued.

“And so Jesus lived with an earthly father, and in the midst of a family, until at the age of thirty He began His ministry. We have little record of that, but I've often thought that His father, Joseph, must have been an extremely good man, and, of course, His mother was a woman filled with faith, as we have record in the Scriptures. Joseph we know less well, but I've often thought that when Jesus said, ‘Our Father,' speaking to His Father in heaven, of course, He must have been very conscious of His earthly adopted father. I think it is correct to say He loved His earthly father and honored him with obedience, with love, and with devotion.”

As Jacob listened, he began to grow very uncomfortable, for he was forced to think about his own father. He glanced over to the side and saw his father's profile, strong and firm, his eyes fixed on the minister. As usual, Jacob thought instantly of the years he had had no father, and resentment began to stir within him. But still there was a feeling of guilt. He had held his father at arm's length, even though these past months Hawk Spencer had done everything a man could do to show his affection and his willingness to give of himself. Jacob thought of the many instances he'd gone on hunting trips, the fishing expeditions, the long hours when Hawk had spoken not only to Andrew but to Jacob of his days as a long hunter. All of these acts of kindness now came back to Jacob in a rush, and he lowered his head. A feeling of shame came to him as he thought how he had responded with nothing but a surly attitude.

Paul Anderson had moved the crowd, and now he said, “Jesus had to obey His heavenly Father as we all do. When He became a man, He was fully required to do all that men must do, and yet He said of God, ‘I do always those things which please Him.' It was His joy to be obedient to His Father—to serve Him and to obey Him. That is the glory of the humanity of the Lord Jesus—that though He was God, He was at that same time a man, and the Scripture says, ‘He was in all points tempted like as we are yet without sin.' Part of this was the temptation, no doubt, to go His own way, but He never did.” Paul lifted his voice then, and it came like a trumpet. “He always pleased God, and He always loved His Father. God is our true Father, who loves us more than anyone.”

Jacob found himself trying to deny this.
No one loves me like that
, he thought bitterly, but then he heard Paul beginning to speak of the cross, and somehow just the mention of the word “cross” seemed to pierce him like a sharp knife. He felt ashamed and humiliated as Paul began to speak of Jesus dying on the cross.

“When He hung on the cross He suffered physical pangs, but it was not that which was the worst,” the minister called out in a strong voice. “The worst was that His Father had forsaken Him. Do you not remember how He cried out, ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?'”

The truth of those words struck Jacob Spencer for the first time. He suddenly realized that Jesus had been forsaken by His Father, even as he himself had been!

“God had
not
forsaken His Son ultimately. He allowed Him to suffer the agony of the cross, for He had agreed with His Son before the foundation of the earth that this was the price that had to be paid for sinful man. As Jesus hung there dying, He was saying, ‘Yes, I will obey my Father, even though He seems to have abandoned me. Even at this moment, when I feel alone and cast away, destitute, a foreigner, yet will I still cling to my Father.'” Paul hesitated for a moment, and there were tears in his eyes as he looked over his hearers. His eyes were not the only ones touched with tears, for many were moved by his words.

“God knows what it takes to bring His children back to Him,” Anderson said in a voice little louder than a whisper. “And He knows that we feel forsaken at times, but I'll tell you that God is with us whether we see Him or whether we do not. He loves us when we do not feel His love. He cares for us, though His presence may seem blotted out for a time. We may go through a dark night of the soul and doubt whether there even is a God. But I remind you, God puts His children through the valley of affliction more than anyone else. If you feel afflicted, forsaken, and unloved, I urge you to look at Jesus as He cried, ‘Why hast thou forsaken me?'” Then, with a ringing voice, Paul said, “We are
never
forsaken by God. Let us look unto Jesus, the author and the finisher of our faith . . . !”

Jacob's head, by this time, was bowed and he felt miserable. As the service closed, many went forward to kneel in prayer, to ask for the prayers of the pastor and of other believers. For one moment he had a wild impulse to join them, but that soon passed. A hardness and stubbornness rose again as it always did. He turned to go, well aware that Hawk was watching him, as was Elizabeth, but he could not help himself. He left the meeting feeling forsaken by his earthly father and also by his heavenly Father.

Chapter Fourteen

Presents for Abigail

Life was hard, as a rule, in the Watauga settlement, and when the rare excuse for a holiday came it was followed by excitement. The birthday of Abigail Stevens, which fell on June the seventeenth, had been anticipated with excitement by the young people for days. Now the Stevenses' homestead was swarming inside and out as guests came pouring in from the outlying settlements. The cabin itself, of course, was too small to hold all of the guests, so a natural division took place. The men who had dropped by gathered outside, squatting on the ground, whittling, and speaking of crops, dangers with Indians, and neighbors. Farther off, the young people had come together in a cleared area, their laughter and shrill voices filling the air. The weather was mild with a benevolent yellow sun pouring down warm rays on the green fields and forest, and a gentle breeze stirred the tender shoots of grass, making a ripple as if the fields were pools of green water.

Inside the cabin the women were gathered, so that one could hardly turn around without running over another. Rhoda Anderson, who was helping Deborah Stevens with the cooking, turned to Iris Taylor and asked quietly, her voice below the hubbub of voices, “Zeke didn't come with you?”

“No, he couldn't come.” Iris's answer was brief, and as usual, when her husband was mentioned by another woman, she seemed embarrassed. She lifted her eyes and added, “I wish he had come to be a better neighbor.”

Rhoda said no more, for she knew it was not likely. Along with others in the community, she had heard rumors that Zeke Taylor had returned to his old drinking ways. She let her eyes fall on Iris's face but could see no signs of bruises.
He's too afraid of Hawk to abuse his wife, but if Hawk weren't here, I'm afraid to think what would happen!

Elizabeth was chatting happily with Betty Foster, a newcomer to the settlement. The Fosters had moved in from Virginia and were better off than most of the settlers. Charles was a short man with blue eyes and blond hair. His wife, Betty, was even shorter—a diminutive woman with china blue eyes and a ready smile. Their two children, Joseph and Leah, ages fourteen and twelve, had been a welcome addition to the community, especially for the young people.

“Having babies is exciting,” Betty said, her eyes running quickly down Elizabeth's figure. “How far along are you?”

“About seven months.” Elizabeth hesitated, then asked, “Did you have trouble with your babies?”

“Law, no!” Betty scoffed and laughed merrily. She laughed easily, and there was a prettiness about her, not yet hardened by the rough life on the frontier. “They both came so quick I was surprised both times. How about you and your two?”

“It wasn't that easy.”

“Well, maybe it will be this time.”

Deborah Stevens, who had been sitting across from Elizabeth, asked, “Are you feelin' all right? Having babies should be a natural thing, but sometimes it's hard.”

“I think Hawk's worried about it more than I am.”

“He lost his first wife in childbirth, didn't he?” Deborah inquired. She actually knew little of the history of Hawk, nor did anyone else in the community, but somehow she had picked up on this bit of information, and now she saw that the thought troubled the young woman. “Sometimes it frightens a man to have his wife bring a child into the world.”

“Men aren't worth anything at a birthing,” Betty Foster shrugged. “I told Charles to go hunting when mine came.”

“I wouldn't want that,” Deborah said.

“No, I wouldn't, either,” Elizabeth smiled. “Not that there's anything they can do, but I'd feel better if Hawk were around.”

As the hubbub of talk swarmed about her, she was thinking of how Hawk had treated her during her pregnancy. It had been almost ludicrous the way he had refused to let her work, even during the early months of her time. Once, when they had walked a little farther than he thought right for her, he had simply scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to the cabin as if she were a small child. Remembering that now, she thought how his strength had brought a comfort to her, and she glowed with pleasure at the thought of having a strong man at her side. But Hawk had been worried, she knew that. It was not that he said much, but she could tell. Many times she had tried to assure him that she was not afraid, but it had not soothed his nerves.

She looked up to watch Rhoda, who was chatting now with two of the other women, and wondered how long it would be before she and Paul would have a child. When Deborah Stevens questioned her again about how she felt, she said quietly, “It's all in God's hands. We will be all right, Deborah.”

Deborah nodded with satisfaction. She knew Elizabeth Spencer to be a sensible woman, not flighty like so many she had known, and now she raised her voice and asked, “How are the cakes coming, Rhoda?”

“Just fine.”

Rising to her feet, Elizabeth moved over to stand beside Rhoda. The other women had gone to the door for a moment, to step outside and cool off while watching the children play. Elizabeth sensed something was troubling Rhoda and asked quietly, “Is everything all right?”

For a time Rhoda did not answer, then she turned her eyes on Elizabeth. She had very attractive eyes, large and well shaped, but now there was a cloud in them, and she said, “It's the same thing. I don't ever feel quite right.”

“About being married to a minister?”

“Yes. I . . . I just don't know if I can do it, Elizabeth. I can't help Paul the way I should.” She clasped her hands nervously and dropped her head. Her shoulders drooped in an attitude of doubt, and Elizabeth put her arm around her, saying, “Of course you can help him.”

“I just don't know. I wish I'd had a different kind of life.”

Iris Taylor had been standing in the doorway, and now she turned and said in a strange tone, “Just be glad and thankful you got a man who loves you.”

Rhoda shifted quickly to face Iris, realizing how much better off she was than this poor woman. “I reckon I shouldn't ever complain,” she said.

“God knows all about you and the Reverend,” Iris said. There was a sudden strength in her voice, a quality that had not been there months before, and now she said evenly, “God will be with you in everything and through everything.”

“That's right,” Elizabeth echoed quickly. She hesitated for one moment, then said, “Has Zeke . . . been abusive to you or Amanda?”

A sigh shook Iris's thin body and she shook her head. “No, he's just yelled at us a lot. Sometimes I'm afraid that he will hurt us, though. I know that God's with me, and I'm trusting Him to keep me and Amanda safe.”