11

Jed shut the doors to the smithy after a tiring day. The days were getting shorter as winter approached. In a couple of months, it’d be dark and the shop would be closed by this time.

Paxton Hubbard stood in the yard with Thomas and Josiah. A crabapple had been placed on the hitching post. “Mr. Green, can we take one more shot each?”

“One more and then they have to get to their chores before supper.”

Griffin inclined his head toward the road. “Look who’s comin’.”

Miss Cantrell walked the path, a large box under her arm. She wore a brown dress and a cream-colored bonnet.

“Run on up and carry that box for her,” Jed nodded to Griffin.

“Hey, one of ya boys go help your teacher carry what she’s got.” Griffin yelled.

All three scampered toward her. Paxton ended up with the package as they dashed back.

“Hello.” She stood under the shade of the Dutch elm tree.

“Is that a present for us?” Josiah asked.

“No, it’s not. Although you both did a wonderful job with your first recitation of the year.”

“First?” Thomas asked. “You mean, we gotta do another one?”

Miss Cantrell chuckled. “Absolutely. But both of you did wonderfully.”

“Mr. Green told us that too.” Josiah told her. “We gotta pick another piece of candy from the store.”

Miss Cantrell looked at Jed.

“They did a fine job, Miss. So did you.”

Griffin caught Jed’s attention. “I’m taking off.”

“Look to see what’s around for supper,” Jed called.

Griffin mumbled something undecipherable.

“Paxton, run on home now. You can come back tomorrow.” Jed waved to the boy.

Paxton propped the box under a shade tree, picked up his slingshot, and trotted down the dirt path.

“I am in need of a favor and hoping you can help.” Miss Cantrell smiled at Jed.

“Oh.” Jed ruffled the top of Thomas’s head. “Go on, take Josiah. Wash up and see what Griffin needs help with.” Jed turned back to her.

“I should only stay for a moment, but I wondered if you knew of someone who could deliver this package for me to a family just north of here.”

“I suppose I could find some time.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know who else to ask. I know how busy you are. But I don’t want the person to know it came from me.”

“Who is it for?”

“I don’t know the person’s name. I thought you could help with that as well.” Her nose wrinkled.

“You’ve got me plum confused, miss.” In more ways than one. For half a second, Jed thought he’d said it out loud because Grace—Miss Cantrell—chuckled.

“Yes, I can see this isn’t making any sense.” She handed the box to him. “There’s a woman in Carter’s Ridge. Her husband was killed by a snake bite this spring. She was pregnant at the time and already had a small child. I thought you might know who that is and give her this.”

“I know exactly who you are referring to. Her husband was a good man. Grew hemp, along with his father, a ways north of here. I’d done some work for him in the past.”

“So, you could do it, or your apprentice?” Her voice rose with excitement. “Please get this to her and tell her someone wanted her to have it.”

Jed took the package, and his fingers brushed against hers. His heart raced. “I’ll do it myself when I can leave Griffin in the shop, or bring him along with me. He’s not familiar with that area and might end up lost and never find his way back.”

“Are your sure it’s not an imposition? I could try to find someone else.” Her milky skin glowed, and long lashes outlined shimmering eyes of green.

“I’ll be glad to do it for you, Miss Cantrell.” He could’ve stood in the shade and talked until dark. “May take a day or two, but I should get to it this week or next.”

“Oh, thank you so much. I’m delighted.” She picked up the hem of her dress and backed away. “I should be going now.” The heel of one boot tripped over a tree root. She stumbled but didn’t fall.

Jed stepped forward. “You all right?”

“I’m fine.” She turned but then looked back. “Thank you, Jedidiah. Uhm, I’m sorry. Mr. Green. Thank you so much.”

Jed hoped she would turn back around. When she did, Jed lifted one hand to wave.

She waved back, angled around the bend, and then went out of sight.

The front door banged open.

“You gonna come inside?” Griffin growled. “Not much for eatin’ that I can find.”

“Check around the back door. Willard Owens was supposed to leave some honey and bread and a bucket of whatever he had ripe in his garden.”

“Why can’t they bring it to the shop? Critters get into it back there.” Griffin huffed and stomped back inside.

Jed answered although no one was there to listen. “Because he don’t want the people hanging around the shop to know he has to barter.” He shook Miss Cantrell’s box and tried to assess the contents. Nothing that lady said today made much sense. But she was pretty. And kind. And his heart beat faster every time he thought of her.

~*~

Jed hollered at Griffin to get in the wagon.

Griffin stomped from the outhouse. “I don’t understand why I gotta go with you.”

“Well, the first time I let you alone Paxton Hubbard ended up hanging on the wall of the shed. The second time a fist landed in your face.”

Griffin scoffed. “Paxton is all the better for it. And you shoulda seen the other guy from the festival. His was worse.”

“Fighting is not the way to handle things.”

Griffin gave him a ferocious frown. “You weren’t there to see the way that kid acted. Calling Thomas and Josiah, ‘urchins.’ Then he took Josiah’s hat and started passing it back and forth with two other boys. Thomas tried to get it back for him, but he wasn’t fast enough. And they just cackled with laughter. I hated that sound.”

Jed wouldn’t have liked it either. “Those boys live on the other side of Drumm Creek. Their father’s name is Reifstack. He’s a sharecropper for Willard Jeffries, a well-to-do landowner who probably doesn’t pay him half of what he should. One of the boys is a cousin, I believe. His father was killed in the war. Don’t know what happened to his mother.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I suspect Reifstack works them boys into the ground and barely makes a living himself. The boys don’t go to school so they can help. They rarely show up in town. But when they do, there’s almost always trouble.”

“How you know so much about everybody?”

“Folks lingering in the shop gotta talk about something. And I’ve talked with Abner a few times when something on the farm needs fixing.” Jed eyed Griffin. “Be careful who you judge until you know what they’ve gone through.”

“Don’t take to preaching to me about a hard life.”

“I can only guess. You haven’t said much.”

“Like you’re a big talker.” Griffin paused before he spoke again. “But I don’t make it a habit to feel sorry for people. And don’t want that done for me.”

“It’s not about feeling sorry; it’s about understanding.” Jed slowed the wagon down to cross a stream.

“I ain’t got a problem with how poor those boys are, or what happened to their ma and pappy. I had a problem with what they did to Thomas and Josiah.”

For someone who seemed resentful toward the younger boys, Griffin had become very watchful over them. Jed prayed that protective spirit would be channeled into good use.

They didn’t speak for a while.

Finally, Jed spoke what was on his heart. “You think Thomas is doing all right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he acts strange sometimes, like he thinks I’m not coming back. And he gets worried whenever I leave.”

“Well, wouldn’t you feel that way if your mother just set you up to be left?”

“Is that what happened?”

“Those train people didn’t tell you that?”

“The man said he didn’t know much about either of the boys’ histories.”

“It could be just a rumor. But the kids on the train talked about how Thomas was left in the marketplace.”

“Marketplace?”

“Yep. New York is very different from here. Lotsa people everywhere.” He gestured with his hands. “They have these tables set up along the streets. Fruits, vegetables, hats, jewelry. All kinds of stuff. And Thomas claimed his mother got real sick and couldn’t get out of bed, so she sent him to this market to buy something. And when he came back, she was gone. Don’t know what happened to her. She owed the landlord some money. And when Thomas went to ask him if he knew where she was, he got really angry. Claimed she took off and stiffed him on the rent. The landlord was the one who took Thomas to the mission. Dropped him off with a sack of whatever was left at their place.”

“No talk of a father?”

Griffin shook his head.

“What about Josiah? Know anything about him?”

“Just that this lady brought him in one day. Said she found him lying under a bench. His clothes smelled of smoke, and his face was dark and dirty. We was surprised his skin was so pale when they got him cleaned up. He wouldn’t talk about it, but rumor had it that he could’a been staying in what was left of this old abandoned shack that nearly burned down.” Griffin shook his head. “Something no one besides him will probably ever know.”

God knew Josiah’s past. And whatever experiences he’d had, the Lord could heal that broken spirit.

Jed pulled the wagon up to the small weather-beaten home on the east side of Drumm Creek. It had been a while since he’d last been out that way, but the house had aged considerably. The roof looked as if it had been repaired within the last year, but the porch posts had begun to rot and a few timbers had come loose. Paul Bayte grew up in that house and lived there until his death. His father had a place nearby.

A gray-haired man in tattered overalls and a faded shirt hoed the garden. He paused when Jed got out of the wagon. An old lady sat on the porch, a pile of green beans on the bench next to her. Gaze on Jed, she snapped a bean, dropped it into a bucket, and reached for another.

“You lost?” the woman called.

“No,” Jed tugged on the brim of his hat. “My name’s Jedidiah Green. I’m looking for Irene Bayte.”

“What you want with her?”

Jed held up the box. “Have a package to deliver.”

“Package?” The woman narrowed her eyes. “From whom?”

“Since when does a blacksmith deliver mail?” The man from the garden stood behind Jed, his hoe in one hand and a mean scowl plastered on his face. “I recognize you from Sheldon.”

Jed stepped down from the wagon and extended his hand. “Yes, sir. That’s me.” He gestured toward Griffin. “My apprentice is here with me. I’m doing this as a favor to a friend.”

“Irene’s our daughter. This is our home. She moved in a few months ago. Just trying to help her out.”

“I understand.”

The woman walked toward the end of the porch. “She’s inside with the young’uns.” She crossed her arms and then looked at her husband. “Are you sure he’s not from the bank?”

“No, Jed’s all right. He welded a prong for my pitchfork. Saved me from bartering for a new one. I remember his build.”

“Well, maybe the bank sent him here,” the woman continued.

Jed lifted one hand. “I’m not from the bank. And I don’t mean any harm. Hoping to give this gift to your daughter, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Gift?”

The front door opened and banged shut. A thin young woman, barefoot, with gaunt cheeks and long, stringy hair, held a baby swaddled in a shabby blanket. A girl, about the age of two, sucked her thumb while she clung to her mother’s side. The young woman’s eyes looked tired, as if they hadn’t seen a good night’s sleep in a long while. Her gaze was wary as she stared toward Jed and the wagon. “Whatcha all want?”

Jed held out the box. “Someone asked me to give this to you.”

She eyed Jed suspiciously. “Who?”

“The person asked me not to say.”

“Well, what’s in it?”

“To be honest, I didn’t ask.”

The three on the porch glanced at each other and then back at him.

Irene sat in a chair. “Well, I don’t know anybody who’d give me anything.”

Jed stepped forward.

The little girl moved around her mother’s back. The baby started to cry, and Irene placed the baby on her shoulder and patted its back.

“I think you should take this.” Jed extended the package toward Irene, but her mother took it from him. “I’ll give you my word that this person’s intentions are sincere.”

“Perhaps you’d better stay while she opens it. And this better not be some banker’s trick.”

Irene’s mother took the baby and handed her the box. The little girl pulled on her mother’s arm as Irene tore the paper. Moisture formed in Irene’s eyes as she looked into the box. “Oh, my.” One hand gently touched her chest.

Irene’s mother leaned in. “Well, what is it?”

Irene lifted the contents from the box. A tear streamed from each eye. Her lips trembled and then she smiled.

Her father leaned the hoe against the rail and stepped onto the porch. “Who’d send you a dress?”

Irene pressed the fabric to her chest. “This is what Paul wanted me to have.”

Her mother’s cheeks turned slightly pink. She placed her hand on her daughter’s wrist.

“He let me pick out some material to have the lady tailor in Sheldon make me a Sunday dress.” She wiped her eyes dry, took her daughter from her mother, and lifted the baby onto her lap. “I always wanted me a nice dress to wear to church. He told me he’d do his best to see that I get a new one each season when the crop came in.”

A rooster crowed in the background and broke the quiet, but the stillness remained. Nobody shifted their weight, as if movement might interrupt the flow of beauty found in sincere, humble appreciation.

Jed shoved his hands into his front pockets. He didn’t know which he admired more—Irene for her thankfulness, or Miss Cantrell for her generosity.

Griffin jumped down and sauntered toward the old man. He lifted the man’s wrist and then dropped something into his palm. “Think I could take some of those green beans off your hands?”

The man looked down at the coin. “How much you needin’?”

“Whatever you think that’s good for.”

The boy had a well-hidden generous streak. Jed grinned to himself.

Irene’s father loaded a couple bushels of green beans and an armful of sweet potatoes in the back of the wagon.

The return trip was quiet.

Griffin seemed lost in thought as he gazed at the horizon.

Jed was equally transfixed as he tried to envision the look on Miss Cantrell’s face when he told her how happy she’d made that young widow.