“You went all that way and didn’t speak to her, why?” Father Dyer frowned.
Daniel was stunned. “What should I say? That I’d found out a dance-hall gal knew her. Remember, I saw my wife dressed in a way I couldn’t afford, singing and playing worldly songs for a dance. I don’t know what to think, except she’s—Dyer, I’ve got a call to preach the Gospel, I can’t have a wife like that.”
Dyer winced. “You’ve heard me enough to know I’m convinced dancing is something the devil stayed up all night inventing. This old preacher may not have enough education to pick the minds of great men, but I know sin when I see it.”
Daniel watched Dyer close his mouth into a tight line. For a long time he sat with his chin resting on his chest. When he lifted his head, he asked, “Do I detect a bit of pride? Talking about your call?”
Daniel wilted in his chair and thought about it. Dyer cleared his throat. His keen eyes bored into Daniel. “Another thing. I thought you sounded like a jealous husband, huffing outta there without even a kiss.”
Daniel rubbed his neck and muttered. “I guess I was fussed about a couple of things. She seemed to be doing fine without me. And she was dressed pretty fancy for a poor girl.”
“Maybe she’s digging gold. Maybe she’s rich. Were you expecting a hungry barefoot gal to come running back to your arms? Is that what you want, a defeated wife without a place to go? Maybe Amy took off because she’s trying to grow up.”
Daniel digested Dyer’s words in silence. When he took a deep breath and looked at Dyer, the man said, “One thing I can’t get away from is the Spirit urging caution.” He glanced at Daniel. “Sometimes I feel the Lord doesn’t judge nearly as harshly as we do. On the other hand, He’s the only one seeing the true picture. Son, give the Lord time to work. Don’t make a hasty decision.”
Daniel slowly said, “Eli told me to forget about her.”
“Her father?” John’s voice sounded strained. “I—oh, never mind.” Finally he got to his feet. “Daniel, there’s missionary meeting in Denver City next week. Let’s go. I’ve had something in mind for several weeks now. Right now, I’m reluctant to broach the subject. Could be if we have a week together riding the trails and going to services, I may be able to persuade you.”
“About what?”
“Coming to Buckskin Joe with me the first of November and holding a revival service. That’s a tough district and I need help. My idea is while you preach, I pray and then while I preach you pray. By the way, this isn’t the first I’ve thought of it. Felt the Spirit urge before—”
Daniel was shaking his head as he got to his feet. “After being there this past week, I can’t face it again.”
“Even for her sake? Boy, I don’t know what the Lord has in mind. I just feel this is right.”
When Daniel looked at Dyer, he felt his face twist. He asked, “You’ll be preaching the whole Book of Hosea to me, huh, John?”
“Maybe so. The prophet forgave his wife and took her back.”
Daniel’s head jerked. “I’m not accusing her of anything—it’s just that there doesn’t seem to be room in her life for me.”
They borrowed a horse for Dyer and started for Denver City in a driving snowstorm. When they came down out of the storm, Dyer shook the snow from his collar and straightened in the saddle.
“I have this little portable organ,” Dyer said. “Knowing my thoughts about the dance, how do you think I felt when I discovered some of my best folk were borrowing the organ while I was outta town and playing it at their dances?”
“I guess you felt like dumping them.”
“Somehow, I didn’t think that was what the Lord wanted.”
When they reached the outskirts of Denver City, Dyer pulled on the reins and turned to Daniel. “They called it log city for a time. It’s sprucing up now. See that fancy place over there? That belongs to a woman named Ada LaMont. Ever heard of her?”
Daniel shook his head. “I was told the story of her last year by a fellow who knew Ada and her husband well back east,” Dyer said. “First off, the fellow said Ada was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was only seventeen when she married a young preacher. Seems, the fellow said, that Ada was a good woman, happy with being the parson’s wife.
“Well, Parson LaMont felt the call to come out here in ’59 when all the miners were following the rush. They started out, but somewhere out in Nebraska, one night the parson just disappeared. His bride had no idea what had happened. The wagon train spent the next day looking for him. Seems, too, that there was a female in the train with a pretty shady reputation. She also was missing.”
Dyer was silent for a moment before he said, “Mrs. LaMont finished the trip in a state of terrible depression, but on the day they arrived in Denver City, she stood herself up in the wagon and yelled to the people: ‘You see me now as a God-fearing lady: I tell you, take a good look, because from this time on I intend to run a pleasure palace. Any of you men looking for a good time, my tent flap is always open.’” Dyer paused and pointed to the imposing house. “Seems she did well in her new occupation. But I shudder everytime I think of her. She threw her defiance in God’s face, and I’m fearful she’ll be broken in the end.”
The two of them rode in silence until finally Dyer raised his head and shook it. Daniel watched him curiously, wondering at the sad expression on Dyer’s face. “Something about the gold fever. Makes the worst come out in a man. God hasn’t given up. He’s sending us out to pick up the men and dust ’em off, give ’em another chance.”
“We’re getting close to the Elephant Corral, aren’t we?” Daniel asked. “I’ve been studying out that bunch up ahead. See them milling around that store?”
Dyer squinted. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s a Confederate flag hanging across the front of the store. Let’s go see what’s happening.”
They reached the store as the crowd erupted into catcalls, a quick scuffle, and then a cheer. A man was hoisted onto a barrel.
“Well at least there’s no shooting,” Dyer remarked.
“Looks only half serious,” Daniel added. They were close enough to hear the man on the barrel. Daniel reined in his horse.
“There’ll be no rebel flag flown in Colorado Territory,” the man was saying. “The majority wins, and that’s a vote for the Union. If you fellows want to fly your flag, head for Missouri. We might can get up an escort for you.” There were good-natured boos and catcalls and Daniel guided his horse away from the crowd.
“Guess that’s the end of the war in Colorado Territory,” Daniel said with a chuckle.
Dyer’s face was serious. “Let’s hope so. Lad, there’s a great deal of fear that southern sympathies will get a foothold.”
“You mean there’d be fighting here?”
“Possibly. Right now Colorado is a powder keg. The Texas Rangers are pushing on one door and the Indians are getting restless. We need every man to defend the territory.”
Daniel nodded. “I can’t help being uneasy about the Indian problems. Been here long enough to know the settlers and Washington aren’t living up to the promises they’ve been making to the Indians.
“We were the intruders. I can’t buy that idea of Manifest Destiny. They’re God’s creation too, and we’re not a bit better than they are. If we don’t do some giving pretty soon, we’ll all be killing each other off.”
“I’m hoping for an opening to move south to minister to the Mexicans,” Dyer said. “Likewise, perhaps someday there’ll be an opening for honest work among the Indians.”
He added, “Well, there’s the church just ahead. Seems to be a good crowd moving in already.”
“I see Eli Randolph,” Daniel replied. “I need to do some talking with him.” As he slipped from his horse and started after the man, Daniel saw the quick flash of sympathy in Dyer’s eyes.
Eli was just walking away from the corral when Daniel caught up with him. With a sharp pang of regret, Daniel noticed how the man’s shoulders drooped.
“Sir,” Daniel wrapped the reins around his hand and waited until Eli turned. “I need to talk to you. Should it be now or later?” He saw the man hesitate. A shadow dulled his eyes as he studied Daniel’s face.
He turned away, saying, “Better make it now. I don’t know what I’ll be doing once meeting starts.”
Daniel corralled his horse and followed Eli through the grounds to the line of cottonwoods beside the creek. Abruptly he started, “It’s about Amy. I’ve found her, and I don’t know what to think.”
When he finished with his story, Eli sat down on a stump and stared at his clasped hands. If I’d expected to find hope, Daniel thought, just looking at him ruins it all.
Slowly Daniel hauled forward a stump of firewood and sat down. Eli lifted his head but he didn’t meet Daniel’s eyes. “Son, I think I’ve done you a disservice by not telling you the whole story. I gave you good advice; now I’m just sorry you found her. I’m supposing you’ll not be able to forget her until you hear the whole thing.”
Daniel flung himself off the stump and grasped Eli’s shoulder. “Forget! Sir, I don’t want to hear anything bad about Amy. Even if things can’t be straightened out, I still love her and I don’t want to know anything to change it all. There might be a time in the future—”
“You don’t understand.” Eli was looking him in the eyes now. “I’m not talking about Amy. It’s her mother.”
Slowly Daniel sat on the stump. As Eli began to talk, Daniel felt as if he had slipped through a closed door. Seeing the pain in the man’s eyes, he wished the door had never been forced.
“Amy’s mother was the prettiest little girl I’ve ever seen in my life. She was the daughter of a couple who attended the first church I ever pastored, back in Arkansas Territory. Folks are dead now, and her brothers drifted off, went west years ago.” Daniel knew he was rambling and waited patiently.
Eli lifted his head. “I was more’n twice her age. You’d think I’d had better sense. She was a little child in a woman’s body. I didn’t know that until we were married. I don’t think she’d had a childhood, and Amy was her doll.” He was silent. Daniel saw the faraway expression in his eyes was tender.
He sighed and took up his story, his face marked by a new bleakness. “She was only fifteen when Amy was born. We were happy, if a grown man can be happy with a little girl who sometimes tires of playing house. She was pretty all right, and I spoiled her—petting her along when I should have known there was a limit to it all. When the money was gone and there were no more pretty trinkets coming in, when the hard realities of parsonage life began to come in the front door—well, we had troubles.”
Daniel spoke. “Amy’s talked about her mother. She seems to remember nothing but the good. I know she still grieves deeply over her death. Sir, I believe that’s why Amy’s so unhappy at camp meeting. I think there’s shadowy things she remembers, buried deep inside.”
Eli raised his head and interrupted. “Son. Amy’s mother isn’t dead. It was Maude who started that story. She just plain couldn’t face the disgrace of it all. See, Maude had come to live with us. She was mother to both Amy and Amelia.”
“That’s her name,” Daniel spoke automatically, as if reviewing the facts. “Does Amy know?”
Eli shook his head. “Amelia left me at camp meeting time. She just couldn’t take the pressure.”
“What do you mean?”
“The old struggle—old as Adam and Eve. At the time I’d only an inkling of how bad it was.
“During the meeting I watched Amelia running forward to fall on the altar, and I thought there was hope. Later she stood and walked away, saying she’d never go back.”
“She left then?”
Eli nodded. “She made her choice, but it’s been a hard one for me to live with. Some of the men saw her go. Left with a fellow who’d been hanging around the meeting all that week. I’ve had letters from her. No address, just notes saying she was sorry for it all.
“Once in a while tales drifted back, people saying they’d seen her. Always the tales came from the west. When I was sent out by the Nebraska conference, I wasn’t too reluctant. I was moving west. Guess a person never gives up hope. I’d be more content if I knew how it had all turned out with her.”
“You sound—” Daniel coughed, “I guess it’s hard to quit loving.” Eli didn’t answer. Finally Daniel stood up.
Eli looked him in the eye. “See, son? I’ve done you a disservice. Like mother, like daughter. They say it’s bad blood; maybe it is. When I heard you were married, it was like a load of fear slid off me. I kept thinking she’d be safe, now—”
Daniel was surprised by the wooden stiffness of his lips as he forced the words. “She’s probably dead. Amy need never know about this.”
“That doesn’t change the situation now.”
“Except that I know where Amy is. Father Dyer and I’ll be holding revival services in Buckskin Joe during November. Sir, pray for us, and for Amy. I’m beginning to see something I didn’t recognize before—I thought being a preacher’s daughter, she knew.”
Eli looked at him, puzzled. “I want Amy to know Jesus Christ as her Savior.” Eli started to protest, and then shrugged in silence. Daniel looked at the bewildered expression on Eli’s face and regretted his words. I shouldn’t have said it to him. God, what pain, to preach over the heads of those we love most. It’s too late for her mother, but not for Amy. I understand now. Amy doesn’t know about love. Only fear. Wrath, hell fire. And I want to be the one to help her learn that you run after God because you love Him.