Authors: Gilbert Morris
Robert studied his relative with a new interest. He had been a hardliner on the war, but had not considered the South’s future. The burned-out ruins of Richmond, the fields gone to weeds, and the crisis of the planters were a graphic picture of the hardships that lay ahead. He said no more, but saw that his father was looking at Sky Winslow with a steady approval.
“Here we are,” Sky announced. Both Jewel and Robert were impressed with the grace of the two-story white house, despite the fact that the fields around it were untended. When they all got out of the buggy, Sky said, “Rebekah, take them in, will you? I’ll be right along.”
They entered through the large foyer, and down a hall to the left. “This will be your room, Captain,” Rebekah said. “And this is yours,” she added, opening a door across the hall for Robert and Jewel. Then she walked to the door at the end of the hall and peeked inside. Smiling, she nodded to Davis’s parents. “He’s awake. Go on in.”
The two men allowed Jewel to precede them. Jewel’s first glance was at Davis in a big bed, with the sunlight falling on him. He was sitting up, getting a shave from a lady in a black dress. The woman immediately stepped back to a walnut washstand. Without a glance at her, Jewel rushed to her son’s side, unable to speak.
“Mother!” he murmured when she straightened up. He was paler than usual, but his eyes were bright. “And Father—!”
Robert took his hand. “Son—you’re looking very well!”
As the couple bent over Davis, Captain Winslow glanced at
the woman in black. He walked over to her, put his hand out and said with a warm smile, “Belle! How good to see you!”
Belle saw Davis’s parents swivel in her direction, but she said evenly, “Thank you, Captain. You’re looking well.” Then she faced Robert and Jewel. “I thought I’d finish with Davis before you got here.” She put the straight razor in her hand on the washstand, and moved to leave the room.
Both Jewel and Robert had been adamant in their refusal to listen to Captain Winslow’s defense of Belle Wickham. She was, in their minds, a perfidious woman who had abused their hospitality, and was to some extent responsible for the death of their youngest son. They had held this attitude despite the letters Davis had written, giving them full details of how she had helped with the school.
Davis felt the awkwardness and said, “Wait, Belle.” She paused and he motioned to his half-lathered face. “You can’t leave a man in this condition! I look like something in a freak show!”
Belle hesitated, then said, “I’ll come back later.” She gave his parents a steady look, but said nothing as she walked out, closing the door with a soft click.
Davis picked up the towel she had left on the bed and wiped the lather from his face. “Well, Grandfather, you came along to inspect the damage, I expect?” He dropped the towel and grasped the captain’s gnarled hand in his.
“I didn’t know being a Methodist preacher was such a dangerous occupation,” the captain voiced. “Not a lot safer than being in the army, is it?”
“I guess I’m just accident prone,” Davis grinned. “Sit down, everyone! Mother, come sit by me.”
“I don’t want to jar your wound,” she protested, but did as asked. She dabbed at some excess lather and laughed, “I’d finish shaving you if I weren’t afraid of cutting your throat.”
“I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it in a day or so,” Davis said. “The bullet didn’t hit the lung or break any bones—just sort
of angled out. My right side is tender, though. Can’t move that arm very well. But tell me, how long will you stay?”
“I don’t know,” Robert replied. “Your mother got us on the train so quickly that I don’t think we brought enough clothes for more than a day or two.”
“Oh, you’re not getting away so easily,” Davis protested. “I’ll be in the pulpit a week from Sunday—and you’re going to hear me preach
once
at least!”
They had talked for half an hour when Rebekah came in and said, “Time for the patient to rest—and you all may want to also.”
Davis hated the idea, but Rebekah won, escorting Robert and Jewel out. The captain lingered long enough to say, “Boy, I’m proud you shed that bullet—and I’m looking forward to hearing a Winslow preach the gospel.”
“Grandfather, try to talk to the folks—about Belle, I mean.”
“I’ll try,” he promised.
As Whitfield fell asleep, he thought,
After coming so close to losing Davis to a war prison and a bullet, it’d be a shame if Robert and Jewel refused to accept the woman he loves.
When the captain awakened later, Robert and Sky had left to tour the plantation. Rebekah was in the kitchen with Pet and Lucy, the house servant, fixing supper. “Belle’s gone down to the schoolhouse, Captain,” Rebekah told him. “It’s that big, whitewashed building over there beside the pasture fence. Why don’t you go let her show you the school she and Davis have worked so hard on?”
“Like to see it,” he agreed, and ambled across the yard toward the building. Spring was in the air, and he stopped once or twice to look at the tiny flowers breaking through the black dirt, wondering what they were. The schoolhouse door was open, and he stepped inside. “Came to see your school, Belle,” he announced as she lifted her head from where she was washing the windows. He looked around and nodded, “Looks real good.”
She came to stand beside him. “It’s been hard—but it means so much to the people here. They have so little—and they’re desperate for their children to have some education.”
“How many do you have?” When she told him the number enrolled and their ages, he was surprised. “How do you teach them with such a big range in ages?”
She appreciated his interest, and showed him the materials and books. As she explained how they operated the school, he watched her face.
How she has changed,
he thought.
She is still beautiful, but there’s a serenity she didn’t have before.
During her time in Washington, Belle had shown a restlessness she failed to conceal from him.
“That’s about it,” she said.
“You and Davis should be very proud, Belle. It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing.”
“It’s Davis who did it,” she hastily replied. “I just help a little.”
The captain had been known as one of the most aggressive seamen in the U.S. Navy, and he had not changed. “Belle, Davis is in love with you.”
“It can never come to anything, Captain!”
He saw the flush in her cheeks at his statement, and undaunted, bore right in. “Why not? Don’t you care for him?”
“Oh—!” Agitated she walked to the window, and he followed. “Too many things have happened.” She smiled briefly as a memory came to her. “One thing you’ll be glad to hear, I think. Ever since I went to church with you that time—when the President was there—I’ve been running away from God. But it’s different now. I’ve found Jesus Christ.”
“Wonderful!” the captain exclaimed. “I can see the change in you.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t give up, Belle. God hasn’t brought you this far to let you fail. My son and his wife—they’ll come around. You’ll see!”
Belle had always been impressed with Whitfield’s calm faith in God. It bolstered her own, and she felt much better as they walked back to the house—until she saw Robert
and Jewel. At the sight of them, the guilt returned, but the captain’s words sustained her. And she went immediately to check on Davis.
“Come in!” he said. “I’m about ready to get out of this bed—and I can’t stand being partly shaved! I feel like half a man.”
“You’re staying in that bed until Dr. Stevens gives you permission,” she admonished. “I’ll finish shaving you, though. You
do
look silly!”
She got hot water, lathered his face, and picked up the razor. She began moving it down his cheeks with a steady hand. She had learned to shave men at Chimborazo, and thought little of it, but her presence was disturbing to Davis.
His pulse raced at Belle’s nearness, and he watched her violet-hued eyes follow the strokes of the razor. Her smooth, creamy skin and lovely lips were enticing. He could smell the faint odor of lavender, and he was acutely conscious of her hands on his face.
She was startled when he reached up and took her wrist. “Be careful!” she exclaimed. “You’ll make me cut you!” She looked into his eyes. Her lips parted with surprise and her eyes widened at his expression. “Davis . . . don’t,” she faltered, and tried to pull her hand away.
“Belle, I can’t go on like this,” he said, tightening his grip. “You’re so beautiful—and I love you so much!”
Her heart leaped and her face flushed, but she shook her head. “You’ve got to forget me.”
“No. I can’t ever do that, Belle. Winslow men don’t forget the women they love. When I’m an old man, I’ll still think of you—just as you are now. But if you don’t love me, then I must leave. You don’t know what it’s like—loving someone and not being able to have that love returned!” He paused and the silence seemed almost palpable. He broke it by saying, “Belle, if you can’t love me—tell me so!”
Belle sat motionless, feeling weak and confused. There was a pleading in his warm brown eyes she couldn’t deny.
For weeks she had struggled with her feelings for him, and now she felt her defenses crumble.
“I—I do love you, Davis, but . . .”
He put his arm around her and drew her to him. She dropped the razor and with a sob threw her arms around him. He held her tenderly until she grew still. But when she pulled back, her eyes wide with wonder, he murmured, “You’re going to marry me, Belle—no arguments. I know I’m about to be kicked out of a church, and my parents have wrong feelings—and twenty other reasons why we shouldn’t—but there are
two
reasons why we should. First, God is in it. I’m still old-fashioned enough to believe that He’s got His hand on us.”
She picked up the towel and wiped his face, then hers, smiling through her tears. “And the second?”
“This!”
he grinned. He pulled her close and kissed her softly—thoroughly. It sent a spasm of pain through his wounded side—and a quiver of joy through her heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THE WEDDING SUPPER
The engagement of Davis Winslow to Belle Wickham made a profound impact on Richmond. When Davis first announced it in his pulpit, the church members gasped in unbelief. But as they left the church, they burst into uncontrollable chatter.
The headlines of the Richmond papers screamed: DIXIE WIDOW TO MARRY YANKEE OFFICER! Other newspapers in the South picked it up—killing any desire Davis and Belle had for a quiet wedding.
Belle was reduced to tears, but the captain brought great comfort. “Let ’em carry on all they please, Belle,” he said, finding her weeping one morning. He put his arms around her, and when her sobs subsided, gave her his large handkerchief and chuckled. “I know it’s a pain, but it’ll pass. After all you’ve gone through, what does a little gossip mean? You’ve got the Lord, you’ve got Davis, and you’ve even won Robert and Jewel over—and that’s a miracle!”
Belle knew it was true. She had not known how Davis had shared with his parents the story of his time in Chimborazo. But they had listened, and taken time to get to know Belle. She had been shy at first, but both Jewel and Robert had made a special effort, and it wasn’t long before Belle’s courage and her sweet spirit won their hearts.
In fact, Robert and Jewel had become warm friends with Sky and Rebekah, and the entire family had accepted them without reservation. They had put off their return to
Washington in order to attend the wedding, which Davis insisted on having as soon as possible.
The captain looked at Belle and added, “I’m going to give you a wedding present.”
“I don’t want you to spend a lot of money on us.”
“It’s not for Davis—it’s for you, Belle.” Then he assumed a stern expression and said sharply, “And I don’t give a continental what you want! At my age I’m entitled to be spoiled, and I’ll have my way in this—or know the reason why!”
His vehemence was intriguing. “What in the world is it?”
“You’ll see when I give it to you!” No more was said until a week before the wedding. One day while she was peeling potatoes in the kitchen with Pet and Rebekah, Captain Winslow called in a stentorian voice from the parlor, “Belle! Come out here—and the rest of you women!”
“Why in the world is the captain yelling?” Pet asked, and the three rushed to the parlor. Whitfield was standing in the center of the room holding a large item covered with cotton.
“Belle, here’s your wedding present,” he grinned. “Remember what I told you—I’m apt to have a spasm if you give me any argument! Now, help me get this thing off.”
He held one end high, and Belle untied a drawstring at the top, and the cotton fell to the floor. Belle gasped—as did Pet and Rebekah.
“It’s—beautiful!” she whispered, reaching out to touch the shimmering pure silk of the most beautiful wedding dress any of them had ever seen.
It was an unusual color, a pale silvery blue, with fine white lace at the neck and wrists. The captain, obviously very proud of his choice, said with satisfaction, “That came all the way from Boston. I had Lucy snitch one of your dresses for size to send with the order, so it ought to fit.”
Belle could not believe her eyes. She took it from the captain and held it up as she faced them. Her dark hair and coloring set the delicate blue off perfectly.
“Exquisite, Belle!” Rebekah marveled. Pet was ecstatic, and took it from Belle for a closer examination.
“Thank you—for everything!” Belle whispered, putting her arms around the captain. She kissed his cheek and said with a roguish smile, “What made you think I wouldn’t take it? I’m selfish!”
****
The nuptial supper was held at Belle Maison the night before the wedding, which was to be at St. Andrew’s.
Davis smiled broadly at the applause as he and Belle entered the dining room. After seating Belle, he took his place beside her and commented, “There are lots of Winslows here tonight.” His gaze swept across both families. “And as Tiny Tim once said, ‘God bless us every one!’ ”
The table was laden with food, and after Davis asked the blessing, they wasted no time. Sky was immensely happy to have his family all together. After the main meal was finished, and they sat drinking coffee over dessert, he said, “I ought to make a speech, but I was never much good at that. However, I want to say how happy I am to have you here, Robert and Jewel—and you, of course, Captain!” He looked around and a slight shadow crossed his face. “We may never be around this table again just like this. But I want to thank God for letting us have each other.”