She started to turn from the window, but a movement on the road leading to the estate caught her attention. A carriage, she realized, pulled by a sorrel mare that reminded her of Nadine Steadman’s horse. She craned her neck, squinting for a better look, and to her shock she recognized the carriage’s driver.
With a little cry of excitement, she raced out of her room, down the stairs, and out the front door to meet the carriage as it pulled up next to the house. She held both hands out to the man, exclaiming, “Clarence! How wonderful to see you looking so well!”
Swelling along the right side of his jaw gave his face a misshapen appearance, but his crooked smile was bright. He climbed down slowly from the driver’s perch but kept his hands clasped to his middle rather than taking hers. “Thank you, Miss Daphne. It’s good to see you, too. Wanted to come out, say thanks to you myself for getting me safe back to my home. And for taking care of me.”
“Oh, Clarence, what I did was very little in comparison to what you suffered for me.” Daphne linked her hands behind her back and smiled. “I’m just so very grateful you’re well enough to be out of bed!”
“Prayers do work wonders, Miss Daphne, and I’ve had a-plenty of them, I know.”
“Yes, you have.” Daphne suddenly realized she felt a kinship with this elderly black man as a result of the prayers she had uttered on his behalf. How different their appearances were—him with his dark, leathered skin and humble shirt and trousers, her with skin as creamy as milk and attired in a day dress of russet satin—yet they were bound by petitions offered to a shared God.
A longing to embrace him, to publicly acknowledge him as her friend, welled up, but she squelched the desire. His reluctance to even take her hand in greeting communicated their need to remain within social dictates. She wouldn’t make him uncomfortable by stepping outside of those bounds to satisfy her own need.
Forcing a cheerful tone, she said, “Thank you for taking the time to drive out and see me. It means a great deal to me.” Since Father’s outburst at dinner, she hadn’t had a conversation of any consequence with anyone. Talking, and being spoken to, refreshed her spirits.
“Well . . .” Clarence scratched his head, assuming a sheepish expression. “I confess, Miss Daphne, I did want to thank you, but there’s another reason I come out today.”
Daphne tipped her head, waiting for him to explain. Instead of speaking, Clarence turned and walked to the enclosed carriage. He took hold of the doorknob and gave it a tug. Daphne, curious, peeked inside the coach. Her heart somersaulted in her chest, stealing her breath. Thomas!
T
HE SPRINGS SQUEAKED
as Thomas stepped clear of the carriage.
“I brought Mister Thomas to see you, Miss Daphne,” Clarence declared with a chuckle.
“Oh . . .”
Daphne’s breathy reaction sent a tingle of awareness across Thomas’s scalp. Her deep brown eyes flooded with tears, and she danced forward two steps, stopping short of flinging herself into his arms.
“Thomas!”
How she managed to convey everything he was feeling in one simple word, Thomas couldn’t explain. He only knew he heard in that quivering utterance the same mix of joy, despair, and desire that filled his own heart with one look into Daphne’s beautiful face. Her name tumbled from his lips on a husky whisper: “Daphne . . .”
They stood, looking at each other, while Clarence shuffled from foot to foot, examined his thumbnails, and finally cleared his throat. At the sudden sound, Daphne jumped.
“I’s gonna go sit under the tree there, Mister Thomas.” He pointed to a bench beneath a towering, leafless maple in the center of the front yard. “You and Miss Daphne, you talk long as you want to.” He chuckled again. “Your train don’t leave ’til tomorrow noon anyways.”
Thomas bit back his own laugh as Clarence ambled away. “Are you sure I’m not interrupting anything important? Maybe I should have called first . . .”
Daphne shook her head, her thick, dark hair bouncing across her shoulders. “There is nothing more important than time with you, Thomas. Except maybe time with God in prayer. And I feel like praying is all I’ve been doing for the past three days! I don’t think God will mind me talking to you now.”
Thomas couldn’t stop a grin from growing at her bold words. Although very new in her faith, it seemed Daphne had grasped Christianity with both hands. He nodded, then pointed to the little wicker settee nearby. She led the way, and they perched side by side.
“As Clarence said, my train leaves tomorrow. I’m going back to Kansas.”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded tight, although her smile remained serene. “Father said you had turned in your resignation. What do you intend to do for a living?”
Thomas took a few moments to share his plans with her. She listened intently, never interrupting, her hands clasped in her lap, her gaze pinned to his. When he finished, she reached out and placed her hand over his.
“I’m so proud of you, Thomas, for being brave enough to follow your heart.”
He turned his hand to grasp her fingers. Being linked with Daphne sent his heart careening.
My heart led me to you, Daphne.
The words formed on his tongue but remained unspoken. He loved her—he knew that—but he couldn’t take her away from Boston and everything that was familiar. He’d hurt her once by walking away, and he loved her too much to hurt her again.
Knowing their time was short, he pushed his own desires aside to focus on doing what was best for Daphne. “Before I go, let me encourage you to find a good, Bible-teaching church. Nadine said she would be glad to have you accompany her to services, if you would like.”
“How incongruous.” A coy smile curved Daphne’s lips. “Could you have imagined her inviting me to spend time with her?” She laughed softly, shaking her head, but Thomas recognized no malice in the humor. “Tell her I’d be grateful. If Father allows me to leave the house on Sunday, I shall most certainly attend service with Mrs. Steadman.”
Thomas frowned. “If your father allows you . . . ?”
Her cheeks reddened, and she turned her head away.
Gently, Thomas caught her chin between his thumb and finger and brought her face around. “Daphne, has your father been abusive?”
Tears appeared in her eyes. “He’s angry with me. He thinks me foolish for reading the Bible and praying, and he has banished me to my room until I stop.”
“Oh, Daphne . . .” Thomas pulled her to his chest, resting his chin on her hair. He should have known, based on the harsh statements thrown at him by his former boss, that the man would react severely to Daphne’s decision to become a Christian. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” She pulled out of his embrace. “Some of the people in the Bible faced far worse. I pray continually for Father, for Mother, and for Harry to come to know Jesus as I have.”
“I’ll join you in prayer,” Thomas vowed. “Every day.”
Suddenly the tears that welled on her lower lashes spilled down her pale cheeks. “Oh, Thomas . . . I shall miss you dreadfully.”
Only a few months ago, on the day of his graduation party, she had made the same proclamation. That day, he’d viewed her statement as a manipulative tactic. Today, however, he read a sincerity and anguish that matched his own. “And I . . . I will miss you.” His voice broke as the truth of his statement struck hard. He didn’t want to leave her.
He drew her close again, breathing in her citrusy scent, memorizing the feel of her slender form in his arms. His eyes slipped closed to hold back his own threatening tears. His heart pounded so hard his breath came in spurts, stirring the fine wisps of hair along her temples.
“I don’t want you to go,” she whispered against his neck.
“And he ain’t wantin’ to leave you.”
Thomas jerked back, swinging his gaze over his shoulder. Clarence stood only a few feet away with a crooked grin creasing his face.
“I’s right, Mister Thomas, ain’t I? You love this girl and don’t want to leave her behind.”
Thomas nearly groaned. He loved Daphne, but Clarence didn’t understand the sacrifices she would have to make for him.
Daphne pressed her hand to Thomas’s beating heart. He looked into her hopeful face. “Do you still love me, Thomas?”
“Yes, I do, but—”
“But what?” Clarence interrupted again, taking another step closer. The grin faded, his expression becoming serious. “Love’s not something to be taken lightly. If you love her, don’t leave her.”
Thomas rose, sending Clarence a silencing look. “It’s not that simple, Clarence. I’m going to build my life in Kansas, and Daphne’s family is here.”
“Please do not speak of me as if I were absent.”
The tart tone reminded Thomas of the old Daphne. He looked at her. She stood and hooked him sternly with her gaze.
“You’re right that my family is here, Thomas, but you’re forgetting something important. I now follow the guidance of my heavenly Father. I wish to seek and discover His will.” She moved forward, catching his hand and holding it between both of hers. With her shoulders squared and chin high, she spoke in a confident tone. “I would not presume to force you into a relationship you don’t desire, but it occurs to me that, given my upbringing, I am familiar with the newspaper business. Although my father has openly disdained me due to my gender, I am educated and capable of assisting in such a business.”
Suddenly her haughty air crumpled and her shoulders wilted. Her fingers quivered even as she continued to hold to his hand. “That is, if . . . if you believe you have need of . . . assistance . . . and if you believe God ordained us to do this work . . . together.”
Thomas stood in stunned silence. Could she possibly love him enough to leave her opulent home? To be days’ distance from her family? To live in a simple community in a clapboard house and spend her days serving as his assistant?
Lord, could I ask it of her? She’d be giving up so much.
Clarence’s whisper carried from behind Thomas. “Mister Thomas? The thing to do now is to go see this girl’s daddy.”
His suggestion, uttered with an amused undertone, was just what Thomas needed to spur him to action. Giving Daphne’s hand a gentle tug, he said, “Is your mother inside?” At her nod, he continued. “Then go get her. We’ll all ride in to the newspaper office, and I will ask your father for his blessing on our marriage.”
How could one heart contain so many differing emotions and still keep from bursting? Daphne held tight to Thomas’s broad, strong hand. The joy of being hand-in-hand with the man she loved juxtaposed the heartache of facing the stern, unyielding glares of her parents. Even Harry stood silent and seemingly disapproving while everyone waited for Father to form an answer to Thomas’s humble yet impassioned request for Daphne’s hand in marriage.
Thomas’s fingers twitched on hers, and she knew the wait was as excruciating for him as it was for her. She longed to look into his face, give him a smile of assurance, but she knew no assurance would exist until Father made his decision.
Oh, please let Father say yes, dear Lord.
Her thoughts formed a prayer, and a bit of the heartache melted away with the knowledge that her loving heavenly Father would never withhold His care from her.
Father cleared his throat, and everyone in the room jumped. Daphne’s hand rose to her throat, and she felt her pounding pulse beneath her fingertips.
“I must first say, Ollenburger, that I find your request unfathomable considering the way you betrayed me.”
Thomas didn’t flinch in the slightest. “I’m sorry you see my decision to return to Kansas as a betrayal, sir. I believe my time under your tutelage prepared me for the pathway God designed for my life. I appreciate all you’ve taught me here, but I can’t allow my appreciation to you to keep me from following God’s will.”
Thomas’s surety in the face of Father’s wrath filled Daphne with pride, but Father released a loud harrumph that made Harry cringe.
“God’s will?” Father crossed his arms, his glare fierce. “And you think taking my daughter away from her family is God’s will for her?”
Thomas opened his mouth to answer, but Daphne squeezed his hand in a silent message to allow her to respond. He looked tenderly into her face, his gentle smile encouraging her.
“Father, no matter where I live, I will always be your daughter. I will always love you and Mother. But I believe I am meant to go with Thomas and help him. Who better than I can understand the newspaperman’s life? I do believe with all my heart we are meant to be together, and if that means—” Sorrow struck hard as she realized the distance that would separate her from her family if she went to Kansas with Thomas, but she swallowed the bubble of sadness and bravely continued. “If that means going to the plains of Kansas with Thomas, then I will go willingly and gladly.”
Releasing Thomas’s hand, she took a hesitant step closer to Father’s desk. He sat in his chair like a king on a throne, his arms crossed, his face stern and forbidding. Resting her fingertips on the desktop, she whispered, “But I would very much like to go with your blessing.”
“Daphne, what do you have in common with this man? On what will you build your future?” He barked the questions, an attempt to intimidate and dissuade her, she was sure, but she knew the answer and it tumbled from her lips effortlessly.
“We share a common faith and a strong love for each other. That faith and our love will be the foundation of our lives together.”
Father’s derisive snort filled the room. “Faith and love . . . As if that will put food on the table. . . .”
Mother nibbled her lip, her eyes sad. Harry stared off to the side, the muscles in his jaw tense. Her family’s obvious distress pierced Daphne’s heart. She didn’t want to hurt them, but neither did she want them hurting her—destroying her with their censure. She glanced at Thomas, and the love shining in his eyes gave her the courage to face her father once more.
“God has promised to meet our needs, and Thomas will work hard to provide—I know he will. I will never be wanting if I go with this man.” She leaned forward, her chest aching with the desire to finally receive her father’s approval.
“Father, please . . . I love Thomas and wish to marry him. But I don’t wish to go against you. Won’t you give us your blessing?”