Grace like a Whisper Page 2

  A sound sleep came easily when her two older sisters did the worrying. But Grace’s life had been turned upside-down before she arrived in Sheldon, and until recently she had never lived outside of their small farm in Grover, Kansas. Perhaps she should spend more time in prayer.

  Not wanting to disturb her landlady, Edith, in the next room, she stepped softly across the plank floorboards. The old woman was an extremely light sleeper and almost always awakened when Grace got up during the night. Tepid water from the pitcher on the washstand felt cool against her cheeks. She patted her face dry.

  Her gaze fell on the opened Bible on the bedside table. Her hand smoothed the worn, thin pages of her childhood keepsake. Her mother had left her that and a brooch. Both came from her maternal grandmother who died before Grace was born. Grace picked up the precious book and nestled it against her chest.

  She exhaled slowly and lay a hand across her chest to slow her quivering heart. Her new duty as schoolmistress both excited and frightened her. She loved children. Loved books. Loved learning. As a child, she would rather have had her nose in a book than play with a doll. And she loved working through a difficult task at her school desk and competing in spelling drills. The summers seemed much longer without such activities. If she rejoiced as her other classmates did on the last day, it was because she tried to fit in and wanted to be accepted. Yet, she wasn’t.

  And that had kept her in knots. A tingle raced through her as cool as a late fall Kansas stream. What if she failed? Could she survive more rejection?

  ~*~

  Jed never was much for talking. His father said getting him to say what was on his mind was like pulling tree roots out of the ground. Jed just didn’t see the need to speak unless he had a purpose.

  If his mother stood in the room with him now, she would pester him about speaking to the boys, asking questions, making them feel safe. He could almost hear her raspy voice. “Jedidiah, look at their faces. Why, they’re half scared out of their skin. Get over there and let ’em know they’re welcome.”

  The oats were fully cooked, but Jed kept stirring as he contemplated how he’d gotten himself into such a mess. His throat constricted. Small voices whispered behind him. He turned and set the hot bowls in front of the boys who sat across from each other, their stomachs bound to be empty. Thomas straightened, and Josiah curled his small hand around a spoon.

  “Not yet.” Jed sounded harsher than he’d meant.

  Josiah released his spoon as if his hand had been slapped with a ruler.

  Thomas studied Jed’s face. Then he reached across the table and placed Josiah’s spoon back in his bowl.

  Jed peered into the bedroom. The bed tick he had pulled from underneath his bed nearly covered the floor. Griffin lay on his side on the hard planks with his face to the wall. Jed nudged the arch of Griffin’s foot with his boot toe. The lad didn’t flinch. A deep sleep would serve him well as Jed planned to work him hard. But a second shove and Griffin grunted. Another poke and he moved slightly. “Griffin.” Jed called.

  The boy’s head lifted only long enough to scan the room. He spotted Jed, scowled, and then settled back to the hard surface.

  “Breakfast is on the table.” Jed picked up the pillows off the floor and tossed them on the bed. “Take advantage. You won’t get another meal for the next six hours.”

  Griffin straightened his legs, rolled over, and then stood. He brushed past Jed and pushed the front door open as it banged against the side of the house.

  The younger boys looked back at him with tired, worried expressions.

  Jed wondered what he should do next. Crisp morning air filtered in with a breeze. He propped the door open with a brick, pulled back a chair, and sat down.

  Griffin stomped back inside. “There’s some angry bees around the outhouse.” He plopped into the only available chair, directly across from Jed. His forearms dropped to the table, rattling the bowls.

  Jed extended his arm and placed it on the younger boys’ hands. He hadn’t spoken a prayer aloud since before his mother died.

  Griffin turned his head toward the fireplace.

  Thomas curled his fingers into Jed’s hand, but Josiah brought his into his lap.

  Jed cleared his throat. “Who would like to pray?”

  Griffin scoffed, then placed his elbow on the table and rubbed his forehead.

  Jed bowed and noticed the quiet. Since he lived alone, his home had always been that way, but never had he been so aware of it until now. “Father, thank You for this meal and our safe journey home. May You remind us of Your presence in everything we see and do. In Your Son’s name, Amen.”

  The three boys were staring at him, eyes wide as the wooden buttons on his overcoat. He inclined his head toward the bowls on the table. “Eat.”

  Griffin scanned the walls and the cupboard adjacent to the fireplace.

  Josiah dove in; he’d already taken his second bite by the time Thomas reached for his spoon.

  Thomas stirred the mush slowly. “What day is it?”

  “Sunday,” Jed told him. “We leave for church in an hour.”

  Griffin ladled a heap of oatmeal onto his spoon. “Ain’t going.” He shoveled in several bites without looking up.

  The boy would go, one way or another. “Do you have any more clothes or shoes besides what you wore on the train?”

  Thomas shook his head. “Josiah never had shoes. I don’t know what happened to what we were wearing. They just had us put on what they gave us.”

  “What about you, Griffin?”

  “Got one change of clothes before they put us on the train in this awful outfit.” Griffin mumbled. “But it’s pretty threadbare. Got holes in the knees and a few in my shirt sleeves.”

  “Wear them for now. We’ll get you some other things at the church mission after the service.”

  Josiah scrunched his face. “I like going with bare feet.”

  “You’ll wear shoes to school. You can take them off when you get home.”

  “We’ll go to school?” Thomas seemed to hold his breath as he anticipated Jed’s reply.

  “You and Josiah must go. Part of the agreement I made with Mr. Duffy. Otherwise it’d make no difference to me. First day is tomorrow. Griffin will work in the shop. He’ll be eighteen soon enough.”

  Josiah stopped chewing and then looked at his plate. Smears of oatmeal had already filled the corners of his mouth.

  Griffin scraped the near-empty bowl with his spoon. “What do you think you’ll have me do around here?”

  Jed took a bite. “You’ll find out tomorrow.”

  “Think I’m gonna be your slave?” Contention rose in Griffin’s voice as he pressed his back against the chair. “Because the last place tried that, and it didn’t work.” He set the empty bowl on the table harder than necessary and wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve. “And it ain’t gonna work here.”

  “No.” Jed saw rebellion in Griffin’s eyes, but he understood. Griffin wasn’t a slave, and it was too bad he was treated as such. “But the work will be hard.”

  Thomas twirled his spoon. “I want to go to school.”

  “Good.” Jed inclined his head toward Thomas’s untouched bowl. “Now, eat.”

  From the other side of the table, the little boy pushed an empty bowl toward Jed. “You want more?”

  Josiah nodded his head slightly.

  His mother’s voice echoed over his shoulder. “You be good to them boys. They’ll need more than just oatmeal to stick to those ribs. Give ’em some lovin’ and a good scrubbin’, too.”

  A warm bath and cleaning under the fingernails Jed could handle. Affection, he’d be short on. After so many years alone, his heart had pretty well forged shut. The boys would have to settle for whatever they would get.

  ~*~

  Reverend Parks stood behind Grace, tapping her shoulder, his smile bright. “Excuse me, Miss Cantrell. I thought you’d like to meet two new students. They just arrived in Sheldon.”

  Her s
pirits lifted. Grace excused herself from a small circle of women and followed the reverend as he moved toward two young boys.

  The boys weren’t homegrown Sheldon folks. They held a look that said they knew they didn’t belong. Both were beyond thin, almost gaunt. Although dressed in nice clothes, their trousers and shirts were wrinkled. The uneasy glances shot toward the boys from several fellow churchgoers confirmed her assumption.

  Reverend Parks motioned to the gentleman behind the boys. “They’re staying with Mr. Jedidiah Green. Have you had a chance to meet Sheldon’s blacksmith?”

  A tower of a man stood before her with chocolate-brown hair parted to the side and gentle curls resting just above his collar. He held a felt hat in one hand and a Bible under his arm. She had walked past his shop a few times but had no reason to enter. Strange they’d never met until now, but then again, she did little mingling in town outside of church. She smiled, but he didn’t return the gesture. Nor did he speak. How sad for these boys that their father was so unfriendly.

  She diverted her attention to the youngest. Light blond hair graced pale skin and piercing blue eyes. A few freckles dotted his nose and cheeks. “What’s your name?”

  He turned his head and looked down, and rough scars shown on one side of his face. Burn scars. Grace had several on her hands and wrists from cooking on the coals. But this boy’s scars told a different story. He inched behind the older boy next to him. Had he read her thoughts?

  “His name is Josiah,” the older boy answered. “My name is Thomas.”

  Thomas stood straight, and he possessed more confidence than most his age.

  She took an instant liking to him. Her gaze went back to the younger boy. “My name is Miss Cantrell, Josiah. And I’m so glad you and your brother will be attending school.”

  Josiah opened his mouth, but then closed it.

  Turning back to the older child, she shook Thomas’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Thomas. I get the pleasure of teaching you to read and write this year. You arrived just in time. The crops are finally in, and we’ll begin our first day tomorrow morning.”

  “Well, I can read only a little, and I haven’t been to school much.”

  “Then it’s best you come, right?”

  Thomas’s eyes widened with the slightest hint of a twinkle.

  Grace lifted the hem of her skirt and knelt in front of Josiah. His eyes were fixed to the floor, but she waited until he looked up. “I was shy around people outside my family when I was your age. But we won’t be strangers after today.”

  Josiah suppressed his smile.

  “I bet you’re five years old.”

  He barely moved his head side to side.

  “Nine?”

  Josiah laughed and then covered his mouth as if that noise wasn’t supposed to leak out.

  “Twelve?”

  Josiah shook his head with more vigor and then lifted his fingers to show his age. Cuts and scrapes showed on his palm and around his thumb.

  Grace’s gut twisted. “Six. Have you ever been to school before?”

  Dusty-blue eyes peered at her with such sadness her heart ached. His irises held a shade similar to what she imagined the ocean would have had she gotten the chance to see it.

  Reverend Parks motioned off to the side. “Mr. Green’s new apprentice is here as well. His name is Griffin.”

  Grace straightened. A tall, stocky young man stood so far off to the side Grace hadn’t realized he was part of that family. He looked away when their eyes met. With his jaw set firmly and his arms folded tightly across his chest, his disposition made it clear that he did not want to be approached. She addressed Griffin despite his obvious reluctance. “And you will be coming on the first day as well?”

  Mr. Green cleared his throat. “Just these two, Miss.”

  Grace met Jared’s gaze. She looked again at Thomas and Josiah. “They’re both bright young men. I can already tell that about them.”

  “We best be taking our seats now.” Jed pressed his hand on Thomas’s back to move him forward. The older boy followed but kept a distance from the others.

  Understanding she had been dismissed, Grace settled into a pew. Could that man have been any less friendly? Her heart sank. Another reminder of why it’d never be good for her to marry. Decent men were far too scarce.

  3

  Grace had kneaded dough since she was old enough to stand on a wooden block at the edge of the work table, a task she found burdensome back then. She sprinkled more flour on the surface and folded the dough over with the heel of her hand.

  “You’re sure takin’ your aggressions out.” Edith rocked back and forth.

  The squeak from the rocking chair had lulled Grace into a rhythm while she kneaded. “I’m lost in thought, that’s all.”

  “What seems to be the matter?”

  “Nothing really.” Grace stopped her work. Could she never say truly what was on her mind? “Just thinking about preparations for the first day.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” Edith sipped her tea. “You said this is what you’ve always wanted.”

  “More than anything.” She looked down at her hands. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll do the job well.”

  Edith set down her cup. “Now, why would you think that?”

  Grace shrugged. Her self-doubt seemed doubled. “Just wondering.” She wiped her brow with her forearm. “What if the townsfolk don’t approve?”

  “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “Well,”—her gut churned a bit—“I’ve been hearing things is all.”

  Edith inched forward in her seat. “Like what?”

  Speaking the words aloud would make it more real. “About my sisters accepting their marriage agreements through the mail. Mail-order brides, they call them. I guess some see that as improper.”

  Edith inclined her head. “There’s a few skeptical enough around here to make such talk. But your sisters aren’t the first women to seek one of these arrangements. Let your hard work and kind heart prove them wrong about your family.”

  Grace’s shoulders relaxed.

  Edith had a way of taking complicated situations and ironing out all the wrinkles. Her words made life simple. And good.

  Grace pondered how to bring up her next thought. She turned the dough over and spoke as her palm pressed down. “I’m curious about a family I met at church this morning. Jedidiah Green and his three sons. One boy has thick, dark brown hair; the other’s hair is fine, almost white as a goose feather. And he has a burn scar on the side of his face. There’s an older boy too.”

  “Big Jed? The blacksmith in town?”

  “Yes, I believe that was his name. And he was a big fellow.”

  “You must be confused meeting so many new people. Jed doesn’t have any kids. Never been married. He’s a loner. Lives in the two-room white house next to his shop.”

  So, he’s the one who lives in that house. Grace had spotted the home her first week in Sheldon and thought it would make the most precious, quaint home if only it had a little attention. The small porch sat empty except for a small, shabby bench and a few clay pots. A nearly dried-up herb garden rested in the back. Chicory, yarrow, and wild onion had invaded the other sections.

  Edith went back to rocking. “A local banker a few years back couldn’t pay Jed to fix his carriage, so he painted Jed’s house with some leftover paint the bank had used. It’s the only one painted in town besides the doctor’s.”

  “Maybe I am confused.” Grace set the dough in the bread mold. “Isn’t it about time for your afternoon nap?”

  “I’m fine for now. Why do you ask about this man?”

  “Oh, this man has children, whoever he is…all of them…but they seemed…” She searched for the right words. “Lost. Something empty in their eyes.”

  Josiah’s waif-like shyness. Thomas’s bold, protective spirit. How she would love to see them open up in her classroom, spreading their petals like a crocus in early spring. And Griffin’s hostility. Or pe
rhaps it was more resentment. She wasn’t sure of the cause, but he was an angry young man. Their meeting had been brief, but she felt she understood them well, though she knew them very little. And at the same time, she wanted to know more.

  “You’re smiling.” Edith set down her tea cup.

  Edith’s voice jostled Grace from her reverie. “Was I?”

  “You were.”

  “Children delight me.” Grace smoothed the folds in her apron. “But they also make my heart heavy.”

  “And that’s what you’re feeling now.”

  “Yes.”

  “Discernment.” Edith spoke with such confidence. “God has given you that gift.”

  Grace’s cheeks flushed at the compliment. “That’s what my sister Mercy always told me. But I’m not sure if that’s true as I don’t even know what I feel. If it’s joy or sadness.”

  “Then perhaps it is both.”

  The old woman had more wisdom in her little finger than Grace had in her whole body.

  Grace wiped her hands on her apron, and poured some tea. Although she had lots of work to do, she sensed God wanted her to rest. She sat down next to the woman, who had graciously opened her home to the new schoolmistress. Perhaps Edith was right, and what Grace felt was both joy and sadness. A smile sneaked across Grace’s face. “Tell me more about what you mean.”

  ~*~

  A cold sweat covered Jed like liquid skin. He lay motionless and shifted his eyes to the moonlight that streamed in through the cloudy windowpane. His heart pounded, and for a breathless moment he thought he was twelve, not twenty-six. And the rattling outside was his cries as he left home for apprenticeship and not the screech of an owl. Shortly, as always, the images faded, and the heavy breathing subsided.

  His tortured dreams came in waves. The same images of him boarding a stage coach for his unwanted apprenticeship repeated for several days, and then disappeared for a while as if his body could only take so much.

  Jed sat up and lit the candle on the table next to the bed. He lifted the light to shine on the floor. Griffin again chose to lay farther away. Two small bodies lay on the bed tick, their sleep deep and sound. The sheet that had once been pulled over Josiah’s shoulder now lay around his knees. The way the boy had tossed and turned it was a wonder the sheet wasn’t wadded into a ball. Thomas clutched his book against his chest as he slept. Jed’s gut tightened as he recalled the last two words scribbled in the inside cover. The only two he could read.