Daniel and Silas Jeffry, homeward bound, forded the Platte that next Tuesday. As they dismounted in front of the fort, a woman came running out to meet them.
“My wife,” Silas murmured, lifting his hand, “and she looks anxious.”
“Oh, Silas,” she threw herself at him. “It’s so terrible. I really meant to go, but it was raining hard, and then the next day she was gone. Old man Morton told me she took the stage.”
“What are you saying?” Silas asked as the woman glanced fearfully at Daniel.
Daniel’s heart sank as he guessed. “Mrs. Jeffry, are you talking about Amy?” She nodded while she stared at the ground and poked her foot against the clump of weeds Daniel’s mare was nosing.
“Does anyone know why?” Silas’s voice was flat.
“It was just too soon,” Daniel answered. “She begged me to stay with her.”
Silas spoke slowly while he studied Daniel under frowning brows. “Being a preacher’s daughter, I’d have guessed her to be tougher than that.” He looked at his wife. “Did she tell anyone where she was going?”
Mrs. Jeffry was shaking her head. “We all talked about it, and seems the only ones she spoke to were the Barts, where she bought milk, and old Morton.”
Daniel turned away. “I need to go think this out. I’ll probably be heading for Central City for a talk with her father. She’ll be there.”
Daniel saw the note as soon as he walked into the cabin. He read it and when he reached the crossed-out word, he winced. “Before,” he muttered. “Before she’s in any deeper? Before our marriage had a chance, or did she mean before God could catch up with her? My poor little darling, I’ve failed you before we’ve begun. And you’ve left before I understood the dark places in your heart.”
Daniel had plenty of time for thinking as he rode. For two days he tried to recall everything he could about Amy. There were pictures long past and others he had begun to see the night of their wedding. Was I misreading it all? Love? Dear Lord, have I run ahead of you again? Guess this foolish heart was presuming when it shouldn’t have. My guesses about Amy were wrong.
In Denver City he returned the Goodes’ horse. The presiding elder wasn’t at home, and he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was spared an explanation. As soon as he left the Goodes’ cabin, he headed up Clear Creek canyon. That night he camped beside the trail and thought some more.
One picture stayed sharp and clear—Amy, silent and waiting beside the ruins of the mine. He saw the tears in her eyes as he thought through the words of the song she had sung.
Eli Randolph wasn’t at home when Daniel arrived. The door of the cabin was latched and the film of dust on the log step sent him searching at the general store.
“Parson?” the young fellow said, “Why he’s been gone for two days. Went to put his sister on the stage. You know, Randolph’s daughter got married sudden-like, and his sister’s going back to live with her brother in eastern Kansas.”
He was watching Daniel’s face curiously as he added, “Seems things are in an uproar. The daughter was promised to marry a young fella by the name of Tristram. Then she up and eloped with another guy. Don’t know his name. Seems strange for the daughter of a preacher. All the town’s a-buzzing. You could go see Aunt Clara Brown. Seems she’s the only one not upset by it all.”
He continued. “That young lady turned down a pack of money and easy living. The guy was doing right well.” He paused to sigh wistfully before adding, “They’re saying Tristram threatened to torch the new house he’s been building for her. Come to think, he might could give you some information. Seemed pretty close to the family.”
“No.” Daniel backed toward the door. “I’ll just head for Denver City; I’ll probably’ll meet up with Mr. Randolph.”
“If you want to leave your name, I’ll tell him about you.”
Daniel studied the curious eyes and shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll go looking for him.”
On the outskirts of Black Hawk, Daniel crossed Clear Creek. While he was still trying to decide which road to take, he heard the wagon rumbling and thumping over the rocky surface.
It was Eli. Until he recognized Daniel, Eli was grinning as if he hadn’t a care in the world. And Daniel stood in the road, trying to swallow the lump in his throat as he waited for the man to look up.
When Eli hauled back on the reins, Daniel came close. With a heavy sigh, he said, “I’ll follow you home.”
Eli asked, “Amy?”
All the way back up the gulch, Daniel picked through facts and wondered what he would say. One thing was certain. Amy hadn’t come home, and Eli knew nothing about her.
When they faced each other across the table, by the dim west light, Daniel could see the change. The carefree expression was gone and the man’s eyes were shadowed in a way he couldn’t understand.
Daniel began. “The day you left, Silas Jeffry came after me to travel the circuit with him. It was my job, sir. I had to go.” Eli was nodding and suddenly he looked like a feeble old man.
Daniel finally stirred. “When we returned Silas’s wife met us. The whole town was buzzing with the story of Amy’s leaving. She just got on the stage and left without saying a word to anyone.”
He waited a moment longer before adding, “There was a note saying it was a mistake. Sir, before I left she tried to get me to leave the territory. Wanted to go back east. She talked about my taking a church back there. I didn’t take her too seriously. Guess I should have spent the time telling her how I would have to go to school to learn to be a preacher back in those fancy churches.”
Eli’s eyes seemed to pierce the gloom, “Is that the kind of life you’re wanting? To be a fancy preacher with a big church?”
“No, sir. I know what the Lord has done for me, and that’s the way I want to preach it to others. Don’t have too much confidence in religion that’s only a membership in church. Sir, I believe in the same kind of religion those fellows in Acts had. A walk with God through the Holy Spirit. Isn’t that what it takes to make a fellow go craving after all the Lord has in store for him?”
Eli was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, the room was completely dark. “All?” he asked. “That’s a big word. Daniel, do you want all?”
“Yes, sir, I really mean it. I’ve realized there’s no other way to live and be content with myself.”
“Then take my advice. Do what the Lord wants you to do and forget about Amy.”
Finally Daniel cleared his throat. “Forget? Sir, I guess I didn’t make it clear. I love Amy. She’s my wife and I want to spend my life making her happy.”
His voice was bitter. “It hasn’t occurred to you that you can’t have both?”
“What do you mean?” he asked slowly.
“It’s Jesus Christ or Amy, not both.”
“It sounds like you’re saying being married to your daughter and being a preacher is impossible.”
There was silence for a long time. Daniel was conscious only of numbness growing inside. His mind was still busy thinking of Amy and that new side he had begun to see. He was also thinking of those things the fellow in the store had talked about—Amy being engaged. She hadn’t mentioned Tristram. Finally he sighed and asked, “Is it because you don’t want us to be married?”
“Son,” Eli sounded as if he were choking, “I don’t want to talk about this, but it’s bad blood. I should have guessed it would come to this sooner or later. Just don’t ask. Go and be the kind of man God wants you to be.”
In the dark, Daniel stumbled against the table as he got to his feet. He asked, “Is it possible now? It was pushing things mighty far for Brother Goode to accept me after Aunt Maude got to him. Now, well, I might just have to go back to mining.”
“I’ll come with you, son. I’ll put in a word for you with Goode.”
“Why don’t you just let me have my talk first. Maybe he considers me to be bad preacher material. If he doesn’t, well, I’ll ask him to come see you.”
As Daniel got back on his horse and headed down the road, he was aware of something he hadn’t heeded before. Eli was an old man.
The following day, Daniel again stood on the steps of the Goodes’ cabin. The presiding elder was at home.
Goode looked at him and said, “I’m guessing the preaching business is a mite difficult.”
“It isn’t that, Brother Goode, but I need to have a talk with you.”
“Then come with me to the church.”
Silently Daniel followed the man’s long strides across the field toward the new building. When Goode paused to admire his church, Daniel stopped beside him and squinted up at the log cross fastened to the eaves.
“Looks mighty nice,” Brother Goode said with satisfaction in his voice. “I’m glad they got the sawmill operating before we finished building; otherwise there’d have been a soddy roof. Advantage to the logs over the planed lumber is it’s warmer in winter. It’s good-sized for a log building.”
Goode continued to nod. “First decent looking church building in the whole of Denver City.”
Inside they sat side by side on the pine pew. Daniel look a deep breath and said, “I don’t rightly know where to begin. By getting married, I thought we’d done the only thing that would make things right. Seems it didn’t. We’d hardly left Denver City before Amy started talking about leaving the territory and going east. I never realized she wasn’t happy here.”
He glanced at Goode, saw the curious, kind eyes and blurted out, “Fact is, Brother Goode, I guess I’ve been taken with Amy since I first met her. Being pressured by Aunt Maude started seeming pretty good after I got over being mad about the implications.”
“You mean you wanted to marry Amy?” the presiding elder was chuckling and shaking his head. “You young people. So, now what’s the problem?”
“When I came back from the first circuit, Amy was gone. Silas’s wife saw her getting on the stage. We thought she’d gone home, but her pa hasn’t seen her.”
Daniel watched the last sign of merriment disappear from Goode’s face, and when his chin came to rest on his collar, Daniel knew it was over. All of it. The dreams of Amy by his side, the dreams of a church like this.
Carefully Daniel rested his head in his cupped hands and waited.
“And the Lord’s deserted you too?” Daniel lifted his head and studied Goode’s expression.
“I haven’t thought of it like that. I was just thinking of the present. How can I be serving as a parson when there’s all this about Amy being aired?”
“What’s the Lord done for you?”
Daniel wondered where to start. Carefully he said, “Brother Goode, I’ve said it before, and it’s the same now.”
“Say it again.”
As he started to speak, he tried to clear his voice of the emotion that was coming through. “It’s the same. The Lord reached down and rescued me. I asked Him for help. He forgave my sins and just plain changed me completely. I didn’t know getting religion would do that for a fellow. Everything is different. All I had sense enough to ask for was to quit being afraid of dying, and He’s made me glad to be living. Mighty glad. I wanted to be free of the ugliness of my past, and He’s made me want to help others in the same way. I—”
Daniel saw Brother Goode nodding and smiling, “Go on.”
He was grinning as he finished. “Why, nothing’s changed about my call. He’s still asking me to do the work.”
“Do you trust the Lord in this matter with Amy?” Daniel nodded, and Goode added, “Even if you never see her again?”
Slowly Daniel said, “Brother Adriance and I had a talk. He said I had two obligations now: to God in fulfilling my call and to my wife. He said I had to trust God with both. That means putting everything in His hands and believing He’ll work things out just the way He purposes to. The only thing, I don’t know where to begin. Does that mean I’m just to sit here and wait until I get some help from the Lord? An understanding about the next step?”
The presiding elder’s face wrinkled into unhappy lines. “Son, I don’t know any better advice to give you. Just wait. But don’t let your hands be idle while you’re waiting.”
“I’m certain she’s gone east. I know there’s family back there. She’ll be with them. But how will it be for me here? Is there any room for a guy who’s gained and lost a wife all in one week?” He paused for a moment, then said, “And I can’t forget what her pa said just as I left him.”
“What was that?”
Daniel lowered his head as he continued, “He said, ‘Forget you ever knew Amy; it’s the only way you’ll be able to handle it.’ Sir, his voice was bitter when he said that. And I know I won’t be able to do that.”
Daniel got to his feet. “One thing bothers me about being a Christian—I don’t feel I’ve really learned to pray. Those old-fashioned prayers the men talk about, where a man gets to the end of himself and throws himself completely on God’s mercy—I guess now is the time.”
“Prayin’s important, Daniel. But there’s a saying in the church: The Lord expects his men to put feet to their prayers.”
Daniel thought a moment, then nodded. “I guess I’d better tell you. If I ever find out where she is, I’ll go to her. Then if it’s possible to make things right with her, I’ll try my best, short of disobeying the Lord.”