Brides of Iowa (54 page)

T
he pungent scent of autumn greeted Everett when he stepped out his door. He breathed deeply of the crisp air, more for fortification than enjoyment of the season. Instead of waiting until he heard the church bell ring this morning, a motivation he couldn’t explain drove him to leave for church early. What was the point? It wasn’t as if he planned to talk to anyone. A battle of inclinations fought a tug-of-war in his chest. He both relished and dreaded seeing Tillie.

Perturbed at his own fickleness, he proceeded down the back stairs and walked resolutely through the alley to the well-worn path leading to the thick cedars that surrounded the churchyard. He could see several wagons and buggies arriving, folks calling out greetings to each other, parents tugging at their children in a vain attempt to keep them clean. Their cheerfulness gnawed at him. Even the cornflower blue sky lent a sharp contrast to his mood. If he’d had the privilege of choosing the day’s colors, a dark, gloomy sky layered with gray clouds matched his spirit better than the sunny morning with tinges of gold, russet, and red highlighting the trees.

Everett stepped closer but remained in the shelter of the cedars. Ben Kiefer arrived on foot and shook hands with a few of the other men. Ben attended church most Sundays, but today his employee sported a tie. And was that a new shirt? Ben rubbed the tops of his boots on the backs of his pant legs and stood, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, glancing repeatedly to the road coming into town. A growl rumbled in Everett’s throat, but he pushed it down.

Another wagon pulled into the yard, this one carrying Everett’s father and Pearl. His gaze lingered on the pair. Perhaps today wasn’t a good time to contemplate the way God had blessed his father, leading him to find love again late in life. He didn’t begrudge his father the happiness, but how he longed to know that kind of happiness for himself. A twinge of envy pinched Everett as he watched the solicitous manner in which the elder Behr aided his bride down from the wagon, holding her shawl for her and offering his arm as they made their way toward the church. A fresh pang of loneliness sliced through him, and a bitter thought taunted him. God would have to send a blind woman for him to be so blessed.

“Halloo, Hubert and Pearl. A fine Lord’s day to ye.” The ringing voice yanked Everett’s attention back to the churchyard activity. Timothy O’Dell waved from the wagon seat as he pulled his team to a stop and set the brake. Before Everett could blink, Ben Kiefer was beside the O’Dell wagon, reaching to take Tillie’s hand and help her down.

Everett’s jaw tightened. What was the strange sensation whirling in his stomach? If he had to put a title to it, might it be jealousy? That was ludicrous. Such an emotion served no purpose, save stirring a slightly nauseous wave rising within him.

Ben removed his hat and ran a hand over his head to smooth his already neatly combed hair. He nodded and spoke briefly to Tillie’s parents. But as the rest of her family made their way into the church, Tillie remained beside the wagon with Ben. Everett turned his head to incline his ear toward the two, but between the breeze rustling the leaves, a nearby dog barking, and a flock of noisy crows squabbling over a few grains of corn next to the mill, he couldn’t make out a word they said to each other. Judging by the red stain on Ben’s face, they weren’t discussing the weather.

The church bell began to ring, and the handful of people who lingered in the churchyard scurried toward the front door. Except Ben and Tillie. They remained in place, conversing about something. Tillie nodded her head, and a pleased smile stretched across Ben’s face. Then he said something that made Tillie laugh. Everett’s breath caught, and for a moment he feared he might give away his hiding place by coughing. But no cough could make it past the stranglehold in his throat when Ben offered his arm to Tillie and she slipped her arm through his—just like his father did with Pearl.

Whatever he’d eaten for breakfast that morning sat like lead in his stomach. An image formed in his mind and mocked him with the relentless persistence of a wood-boring insect. What if, from his usual seat against the back wall of the church, he had to look at Ben and Tillie sitting side by side in a pew ahead of him, sharing a hymnbook? At the moment, it mattered little how often he’d tried to encourage Tillie to welcome Ben’s attention. The reality of it coming to fruition slammed into him like a locomotive.

He turned and strode away, no destination in mind. He simply knew he wasn’t ready to watch his own plan unfold before him.

“I know it’s for the best, Lord. I just wasn’t prepared for the way it would make me feel.”

A dozen contradictions collided in his head, good sense conflicting with paradox. He kept walking until he reached the familiar screen of willow branches, the same ones among which he and Tillie had strolled and talked. In this very spot he’d first realized how easy Tillie was to talk to. Sitting on this rock, the two of them had dangled their feet in the creek and tried to improvise a harmony to “Rock of Ages.” They’d shared thoughts, stories, and laughter.

Everett sat down on the rock. It was too chilly to dip his feet in the creek, but he closed his eyes, and despite his glum mood, a smile found his lips when he remembered the twinkle in Tillie’s eyes when she first suggested they do so. He picked up a round, flat stone and skipped it across the water. The memory of her laughter, sweeter than the most haunting concerto, accompanied the stone as it flirted with the water, only to be consumed by it.

Missing church saddened him. Learning scripture and listening to the pastor’s practical lessons, the joy of growing stronger in his faith and closer to his Lord, had become a delight. More than that, his awareness of God’s presence had begun to expand into an appetite he couldn’t satisfy. He hungered to know more of his God, even if he couldn’t always understand His ways. As he cast a slow scan around him, the trees and grasses waving in the breeze, the music of the water flowing over the rocks, even the dance of the butterflies, all lent themselves to an air of worship. He knew, in the coming weeks, he’d fortify himself and step into church again, even if it meant seeing Ben and Tillie together. Today he would praise God right here. The cathedral God Himself created would serve as his altar. He lifted his face and felt the warmth of the sun as he opened his mouth and sang.

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me; let me hide myself in Thee.” He halted in the middle of the verse. He’d hidden in the shadows and behind his hand, pulled his hat down low on his face, turned away from staring eyes, and sequestered himself. He’d searched for every conceivable place to hide except in Christ.

“How could I not have seen it before, Lord? You are my Rock, and You can shelter me in Your hiding place better than any device on this earth. Let me hide myself in Thee.” Letting God minister to him in solitude this day was exactly what his raw heart needed.

“God, I feel so hollow inside. As difficult as it is to accept, I know Tillie isn’t the one to fill the emptiness. But if I can hide in You, then I know You can fill those barren places with Yourself.”

He rose and began walking with no thought of direction, cresting hills and crossing meadows, climbing rocks and hiking up ridges. He continued until his legs begged for rest. Now surrounded by mostly wooded hills, he found a shady place near some rocks and stretched out in the grass.

The moment the pastor pronounced the final amen, Tillie turned to look behind her. Of course Everett wasn’t there. He always slipped out before the end of the service. But during the singing, she’d sneaked a few brief glances, and his usual spot remained vacant. She hoped he wasn’t ill. Sorrow stung her. What if he’d chosen to stay out of church? She hadn’t been able to get his plea for God to make something beautiful of his life out of her mind. That wasn’t the only thing she couldn’t forget. She could still hear his voice—like the sound the ice on the pond made in early winter when someone tried to step on it before it was strong enough. An ominous groan.
“I’m sorry, Tillie, but it’s best this way.”

“Are you looking for something, Miss Tillie?” Ben’s warm eyes glanced down at her and then followed the same path hers had just taken across the room.

She gulped and forced a smile. “I was hoping to see my friend Tessa Maxwell.” It wasn’t a lie. She did want to speak to Tessa. She needed her friend’s sympathetic ear. She spotted Tessa across the crowded chapel as folks were moving toward the door. It didn’t seem likely she’d get a chance for a private talk with Tessa today, but maybe they could plan to get together later in the week. Her heart was sore and full of regret. A chat with Tessa usually made her feel better, but this time she wasn’t sure anything could soothe her.

They moved along with the exiting worshippers. Ahead of her, Da and Ma gathered the young ones before they had a chance to scatter. Ben shook hands with the preacher and then took her hand as she descended the stairs. Tillie sent another surreptitious glance, this time around the churchyard. Everett was nowhere to be seen, but she did catch a glimpse of Hubert helping Pearl into their wagon.

“Please excuse me, Ben. There’s someone I need to catch before they leave.”

Ben nodded and tipped his hat like a perfect gentleman, but she didn’t wait for his reply. Dodging around some children playing tag, she hurried toward Hubert and Pearl’s wagon.

“Pearl.” She called out and waved a hand to stop them.

“Good morning, Tillie.” Pearl smiled down from her perch on the wagon seat. “I wondered if we’d get a chance to speak.”

Tillie wasn’t unaware of the heads turning to take note of her sitting with Ben in church. No doubt the town gossipers would have them engaged by nightfall. Pearl didn’t gossip, but Tillie was certain she wondered about Ben. She’d have time later to explain that Ben was nothing more than a friend. At the moment, she had a much more pressing question on her mind.

“I didn’t see Everett this morning. Do you know why he’s not here?”

Pearl turned to look at her husband and then back at Tillie. “We were hoping you would know.”

Tillie shook her head. “I haven’t seen him for a few days.” She dropped her gaze to her fingers clutching the ends of her shawl. “We…had words. I went by the depot a few days ago, and we argued.” She looked back at Pearl and Hubert. “I hope he hasn’t stayed away from church because of me.”

Pearl glanced at her husband, who gave Tillie a grandfatherly smile. “Everett is a big boy. He makes his own decisions. It’s best we leave him alone for a while until he feels like talking.”

They bid each other good-bye, and Tillie stepped back as the wagon rolled away. She scanned the yard again in search of Tessa and found her with Gideon and their little daughter talking to one of the area ranchers. A quick glance toward her family’s wagon revealed Ben standing there talking to Da. A fleeting curiosity skittered through her as she speculated over the topic of their conversation. She dismissed it as inconsequential.

Hurrying across the yard, she touched Tessa’s shoulder. Her friend greeted her with a smile and a hug.

“We went out to Fletcher Hamilton’s ranch last week to deliver a horse, and Fletcher was trying to interest Gideon in the sheep. Susan was fascinated by the woolies.” Tessa tilted her head toward her husband and the rancher. “Looks like the little imp is trying to talk her daddy into going back for another visit.”

Despite her melancholy, Tillie couldn’t help but smile at the tiny girl holding her father’s hand. When she looked up, Tessa was studying her. “I see pain in those eyes. Is something wrong?”

Tessa’s question nearly unleashed the tears she’d been holding at bay for days. “Oh Tessa, I think I’ve ruined everything. Everett and I argued, and it was my fault.”

Her friend gave her a gentle smile. “It takes two people to argue.”

Tillie shrugged. “Maybe. But what if he never wants to see me again? I don’t know if I could stand that.”

Tessa’s eyebrows arched along with the intensity of her voice. “You’re in love with him.” She quickly slipped her hand over her mouth and glanced left and right, her gaze lingering past Tillie’s shoulder.

Tillie followed Tessa’s line of sight and turned to find Ben standing behind her, crushing the brim of his hat in his curled fist. The peculiar expression in his eyes indicated he’d heard Tessa’s declaration, but to his credit, he didn’t comment on it.

“Miss Tillie, would you do me the honor of allowing me to walk you home? I already asked your pa, and he said it was all right.”

Tessa reached to lay a gloved hand on Tillie’s arm. “Go ahead. We’ll talk later. Can you come for tea this week?”

Tillie nodded numbly. Mortification shot up her spine at the thought of Ben overhearing her conversation with Tessa. She liked Ben—even believed him a suitable candidate as a beau. When Everett had told her it was time she took his advice and accepted Ben, maybe he’d given that advice in a big brotherly way. The thought wounded her. She already had brothers, and what she felt for Everett had nothing to do with sibling affection. But perhaps he was right. She peered up at Ben, searching for those qualities Everett had tried to point out.