Concealing Grace (The Grace Series Book 1) (25 page)

Jessica grabbed the sheet, yanking it up from where it was tucked in around the mattress. Jon had to hold onto the blanket to keep her from dragging it away, too.

At the connecting door, she stopped and turned around. “Who were you talking about when you said ‘good riddance’ yesterday?”

Jon didn’t say anything.

“Carl Robbins was killed last week. Did you know that?”

“Yes.”

“You were talking about Carl Robbins, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

On Sunday, due to the unusually bitterly cold temperature, Jon insisted Herlin drive them to the church in the coach. Although Jessica was glad to be out of the wind, all she could think of was Herlin. She wasn’t present when Jon went to make his demands, but she imagined he’d been his normal crude self. In the last few days, what little conversation she had with her husband was stilted, to say the least. She wasn’t ready yet to forgive him. She didn’t know that she would ever be able to. With the exception of Jon asking after her comfort, the ride to the church was made in silence.

Upon their arrival, Jessica was surprised to see the number of people congregated on the church lawn. It was so crowded it appeared all the normal parishioners had returned. The colored group, however, was not present. This, she guessed, was because they, unlike the senseless white people, had already gone inside out of the cold. This was also probably the reason Reverend Nash wasn’t out on the lawn as he usually was either. He chose to stay inside with his colored friends.

Inside, however, Jessica discovered she was wrong. The pew the colored people normally sat in was empty. They weren’t there. And neither was Reverend Nash. After everyone was seated and the first hymn began there was still no sign of him. Jessica looked at Jon curiously, wondering if he noticed the reverend’s absence, too, but she couldn’t tell anything by his blank expression.

Reverend Nash didn’t appear until the final hymn ended. He came out from the little room at the back of the church and slowly, almost gingerly, made his way up the steps to stand behind the pulpit. Hushed whispers could be heard throughout the church. Jessica chanced another glance at Jon. He was staring at the reverend like everyone else, but she still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Trent, on the other hand, looked as appalled as she was.

Reverend Nash’s left eye was so badly swollen, it was barely open. Above it, there were stitches. The black threads stood out starkly against his blond eyebrow. A patch of dark purple covered his right jaw. There was more bruising on his cheekbone. He picked up the Bible and Jessica saw his knuckles were raw, too.

Normally during his sermon, he walked around, but this day he didn’t move from behind the pulpit, and he didn’t say anything about what happened to him until the very end of the service. Even then, he didn’t give any real explanation. He merely intoned, “There are some people in our community who feel threatened. There are some who would prefer I leave this church. God has told me this is where I belong. Have a great week. I will see you all next Sunday.”

Jessica couldn’t sing the recessional hymn. Her eyes wouldn’t leave Reverend Nash as he walked slowly up the aisle to the chancel. While they waited in line for their turn to shake hands with him, her father murmured, “That man is a fool.”

“Someone sure did a number on him,” Jon remarked.

“He deserved it,” William Hughes said. “Do you notice there are no niggers here today? Perhaps he learned his lesson.”

To Jon, Jessica asked quietly, “Someone beat Reverend Nash because he invited colored people to come here?”

“That’s what it looks like,” Jon said.

“That wasn’t the only reason,” William Hughes interjected.

No one commented after that. Jessica was so horrified she could do nothing but look from person to person in an attempt to glean their thoughts from their expressions. William Hughes looked almost smug. Her father was solemn. And Trent was fiddling with the handkerchief from his pocket. When he felt her stare, he looked up and shrugged.

As they drew closer to Reverend Nash, she heard several women passing along well wishes for his recovery. He thanked them all politely. Then she heard one man say, “Perhaps you should reconsider.”

Reverend Nash shook his head. “No, I’m here to stay.”

William Hughes, who was next in line, said, “Reverend, I see you withdrew your invitation to the colored. That was wise of you.”

Reverend Nash said, “The invitation was not withdrawn. They will be back.”

Luther said, “With all due respect, Reverend, when people give you warnings, you should heed them.”

“I thank you for your concern, Luther,” was Reverend Nash’s reply.

Trent said, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Thank you, Trent. I appreciate that.”

Stepping up next, Jessica asked quietly, “Is there anything I can do for you? Is there anything you need?”

“I’ll be fine.” The reverend smiled, took her hand between both of his and said softly, “Remember, I am here for you.”

Tomorrow, Jessica silently resolved, she would take Jasmine out. She would visit with Reverend Nash and bring him some of Ruth’s excellent bread and soup. Her conviction to do something for the reverend increased at the same time anger toward her husband did.

Jon said, “Sooner or later people get what they deserve.”

“Yes, they do,” Reverend Nash replied casually. “Have a good day, Captain.”

It wasn’t as easy from the enclosed coach to look back at the church as it was from the buggy. Even so, Jessica saw the reverend standing on the stoop, staring after them. He was still there when they rounded a bend in the road and she could no longer see him.

* * *

As soon as Jessica dismissed her students for the day, she headed out to the stables and asked Wally to saddle her horse. The ride to the parsonage didn’t take long at all. After securing Jasmine, she climbed the porch steps and knocked purposefully on the door.

“Jessica! What a nice surprise. Please come in.” Reverend Nash’s genuine pleasure to see her was touching. She noticed, too, that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. Seeing that his feet were covered only in warm wool socks, she had to hide a grin.

She’d never been inside the parsonage before. It wasn’t a very big house, but from the outside she always thought it was quaint. She imagined the inside would be cozy. Right away, she deduced the reverend wasn’t the best housekeeper. The foyer wasn’t dirty
per se,
but it was cluttered. A small table near the door had two piles of books stacked haphazardly on it, with a hat laying half covering one of them. The vase that should have been in the center was shoved off to the side. A handful of candles, some of which had rolled, were on it, too. There were more books and newspapers piled up on the narrow staircase, along with a pair of slippers and another pair of shoes. There was a coat rack beside the door, but he apparently didn’t use it. His red scarf and a coat hung on the banister railing.

“Sorry for the mess,” he said contritely. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

In that moment, he reminded her very much of Trent, and again she found herself hard pressed to hide her grin. Handing him the basket she brought with her, she said, “Ruth, my husband’s cook, works miracles in the kitchen. Her chicken soup is the best I have ever tasted.”

Reverend Nash peeked under the cloth. “It smells wonderful. Thank you very much.” His smile turned crooked. “You can probably tell, I love to eat.”

This time Jessica gave in to her giggle. The reverend was a big man, very tall and broad, but he didn’t look overweight. He just looked strong. When he asked if she could stay for a little while, Jessica nodded. He ushered her to his parlor, and then excused himself to take the basket to his kitchen.

The parlor was entirely too small for all the furniture stuffed into it. There was a roll-top desk so full of papers, the surface wasn’t visible. A hutch on the opposite wall overflowed with random trinkets and books. Next to the fireplace, the area surrounding the wood rack was desperate for a broom. A pair of kicked off slippers was on the floor in front of the sofa, which had two throw pillows perched on one end and a plaid blanket in a heap at the other. An open book was on top of the blanket, making it fairly obvious Reverend Nash had been reclined and reading when she knocked. The book wasn’t written in English. Although she wasn’t completely certain, she thought it was German.

There was a great fire burning in the fireplace keeping the room nice and warm. In spite of the clutter, or perhaps because of it, Jessica thought it was quite inviting. She took a seat in the wing chair across from the sofa. While she waited, her attention was drawn to the portrait of a young, dark haired woman centered above the fireplace mantel. She was so absorbed in viewing the portrait she didn’t hear Reverend Nash return.

“My late wife,” he said.

“I am very sorry. She was beautiful.”

“Yes, she was.” The funny tone in his voice brought Jessica’s attention to him. He was gazing at the painting in a way that made her think he probably spent a lot of time staring at it. She could almost feel the sorrow emanating from him, and she was humbled by it. But then, he seemed to shake himself. He smiled as he came the rest of the way into the room and sat on the sofa.

“Tell me how you are. I have been concerned about you,” he said.

“Me?” Jessica was taken aback. “Why would you be concerned about me?”

“I know you have had some… how should I say this… disappointments in your life recently.”

Jessica nodded and averted her eyes. As much as she wanted to confide in someone, she was hesitant to say anything about her husband’s behavior. One prevailing thought, however, was Jon’s advice about her school. Ever since he made those awful comments to her father and brother, she saw his warning in an entirely different way. Jon wasn’t trying to protect her. He was ashamed of her. She didn’t know how Reverend Nash would react, but instinct told her he wouldn’t reproach her.

Reverend Nash stared at her keenly the entire time she spoke. When she finished, he smiled and said, “It is too bad there aren’t more people in our town like you. This is fantastic. My admiration goes out to you.”

Embarrassed, Jessica quietly murmured, “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“Sometimes it’s difficult to stay positive when you’re surrounded by those who disagree with what you believe in,” he said. “It takes a courageous person to remain undaunted under those circumstances. You should be proud of yourself, Jessica. I am proud of you.”

Stunned by his intuition, Jessica’s throat grew tight. To cover the awkwardness, she said, “I really enjoyed Reverend Amos’s sermon. Will he ever come back?”

Reverend Nash bit his lip. It was clear he was trying to hide his mirth. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you say that. Somehow of all the people in this community it doesn’t surprise me that comment came from you. I hope you won’t mind if I tell Reverend Amos what you said?”

Jessica shook her head.

“Reverend Amos was supposed to speak again yesterday but because of what happened to me, he decided not to come. He believes if I hadn’t invited him here in the first place this wouldn’t have happened. He may be right, but I am determined to change his mind. Your support is appreciated more than you know.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to you,” Jessica said.

The reverend smiled. “I’ll mend.”

“Who did it? Do you know?”

“It was just a bunch of clowns.” He rolled his eyes.

“It was the Klan, wasn’t it?” Jessica asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

* * *

Luther Emerson was quite pleased as he tucked the parcel he brought under his arm, and together with his comrade, Arnold Whistler mounted the front porch steps at Bent Oak Manor. The colored butler was there to usher them inside. He told them the captain was in his study, and he would inform him of their presence.

Jon didn’t keep them waiting long. He smiled as he strode out and shook their hands. “To what do I owe this honor?” he asked.

It was all Luther could do to contain his excitement. “We came to discuss that date.”

“Ah, yes. Very good,” Jon said knowingly. But then, suddenly his attention was drawn elsewhere. Loudly, he addressed his butler, “Boy, get your ass over here! How many times have I told you, when visitors have coats and hats, you take them! Do it!” To Luther and Arnold he said contritely, “I am sorry for the ineptitude of my servants.”

Luther slipped out of his coat and handed it over along with his hat. Arnold tossed his coat at the colored man, who had to swoop to catch it. For an old coot, the butler was surprisingly nimble. But Luther didn’t have time to contemplate that further.

“Come in. Come in!” Jon heralded. “May I get you coffee or whiskey?”

“Coffee for me,” Luther said.

“I’ll have the same,” Whistler said.

“Bring coffee!” Jon ordered his butler. If the colored man, who still stood there awkwardly holding their coats and hats, hesitated at all Luther didn’t notice, but he must have, because Jon barked at him, “Today, stupid!”

Once they were all comfortably seated in the parlor, Luther said, “I brought a gift for you, Jon.”

Jon thanked him as he took the parcel.

“Open it,” Whistler said.

Deftly Jon unfolded the brown paper. Inside was a long white garment and a smartly folded, cone shaped hat. “Is this a Sovereign Sons of the South outfit?”

“Try it on,” Luther prompted. “Let’s see how you look.”

Jon rose, pulled the sewn sheet over his head and stuck his arms through the sleeves. “Fits perfectly,” he remarked.