Chapter Two

The rain refused to let up. It came in heavy sheets, nearly blinding June as she picked her way along the thin board sidewalk. She was chilled to the bone, and it was getting dark. Gripping the lantern tightly in one hand, she bunched her skirt in the other and cautiously made her way to the complex. The ground was a quagmire.

Sighing, she paused to get her footing, her attention diverted to the activity taking place around her. Mules, the biggest she’d ever seen, pulled wagons heavy-laden with tents, poles, pews, and equipment necessary to operate the massive church crusade. Once-lush, green Seattle countryside was mired in thick ruts. Someone had laid boards end to end for a makeshift walkway. Unfortunately, the raw-pine planks didn’t always meet in the center. Twice, June snagged the hem of her dress and almost plunged headfirst into the dank mire.

The gloomy weather only added to her growing melancholy. She’d been in Seattle two days, and Eli was still ill—so ill they had yet to have their promised talk.

Each day she made the trek down the hallway to his room, but each day Parker Sentell turned her away, saying, “Eli isn’t up to visitors today. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He was polite, but June had the feeling he didn’t like her.

Well, who did this Parker Sentell think he was? He protected Eli as if he needed protection from her—her, his wife-to-be. She’d spoken to Reverend Inman about the matter, but he only shook his head and suggested she pray that Eli would soon enjoy robust health again. As Eli’s intended wife, she had a right to help. She had always been good at nursing people back to health. Parker had no right to exclude her from Eli’s illness.

June took her eyes from the board for an instant, and her foot slipped. Hopping around on one foot and waving both arms, she did a desperate dance in an attempt to steady herself and keep from sitting down in the muck. She managed not to fall down. But one foot landed on the board; the other sank up to her ankle in gray slime. Muttering under her breath, she jerked free, but her boot remained buried.

Heaving a huge sigh, she glanced around to see who, if anyone, had witnessed the spectacle. Men whistled and called to their mule teams, but most seemed unaware of her predicament.

With a great sucking sound, she broke the mud’s hold and pulled her boot free. She was drenched, chilled to the bone, and feeling more than a little foolish. It would take an hour to scrape the mud off that boot.

She continued down the walk in an uneven gait, wearing one boot and holding the other in the hand that held the lantern. The saturated planks were icy beneath her stockinged foot.

As she approached her quarters, lightning split the sky. A clap of thunder jarred the ground, and the clouds opened up and poured. She quickly ducked inside the complex, wondering if coming to Washington had been the right thing to do. She thought of Aunt Thalia’s parlor in Cold Water. The old house was drafty but always comfortable. It was nothing like the strange-looking complex that was supposed to be her new home.

Scraping mud off her boot, she swallowed against the thick lump forming in her throat. She thought of her sisters; Faith was in Texas, Hope in Kentucky. They might as well have been at the ends of the earth. How long would it be before the sisters were reunited? She didn’t want to think of how long. Right now, it felt like an eternity.

Lord, forgive me for fretting over material things like warm parlors and happy talks with my sisters when you’ve given me a new start.

Taking a deep breath, she brightened. She might be barely seventeen, but she was about to marry a preacher—or almost a preacher. Eli was only an assistant pastor, but he would be a preacher someday. And as a minister’s wife, certain things would be expected of her.

She vowed to relinquish her selfish thoughts and endure whatever it took to be a loving wife and devoted helpmate to Eli. A supportive wife, wholeheartedly involved in his ministry. Shivers ran up her back just thinking about it. She, June Kallahan, a preacher’s wife. And one day, the mother of Preacher Eli’s children. Growing up as a preacher’s kid, she had dreamt of marrying a wonderful man like Papa. Now here she was, a mail-order bride to a preacher. God had provided her with her dream.

Dropping the lantern on the tabletop, she shrugged out of the raincoat and hung it up to dry. The long braid she’d so carefully plaited earlier was now plastered to her back. Releasing the buttons on her wet dress, she stepped out of it and draped the wet garment across the back of the chair. She suddenly recalled the letter Parker Sentell had thrust through the partially opened door, stating that it had arrived that morning from Eli’s mother. “Read it somewhere dry,” he’d said. As if she would sit down in the middle of a downpour and read mail!

June admitted that her thoughts about Parker Sentell weren’t exactly charitable, and she had to bite her tongue to remain civil whenever she saw him. If Eli considered Parker a friend, she would like to share that friendship too. But it didn’t look as if it would be easy.

Rummaging through her satchel, she located her flannel gown and robe and quickly changed into the warmth of the dry nightclothes. Wrapping her wet hair in a towel, she stifled a sneeze, praying she wasn’t coming down with a cold.

She removed the envelope from her dress pocket and sat down on the side of the bed.

Eli filled her thoughts, and she wondered if he thought often of her. What was his impression of her? She considered herself somewhat of a plain soul even if Sam didn’t. Even more so, when compared to her sisters, Faith and Hope. She often wondered why Papa hadn’t just named her Jane. Plain Jane. But instead he named her June. June, though a pretty month, seemed rather uninspired for a name. Charity—now that would have been more appropriate. Faith, Hope, and Charity. But Mama had died giving birth to her, and Papa, in blind grief, hadn’t felt very charitable toward his new infant daughter. June, he declared. Her name would be June. So June it was, but charity was close to June’s heart. Helping others gave her a peace she couldn’t explain. It was an intricate part of her, a part she needed to fulfill in order to feel whole.

Deep down, it didn’t matter that she was rather ordinary looking and without any remarkable strengths. The heavenly Father may not have seen fit to make her as independent as Faith or as beautiful as Hope, but he had blessed her with a singing voice. More than one kind soul had remarked that she had a voice superior to most, young or old. She didn’t think so, but she hoped the good Lord saw fit to let her use her talent—however small—in Eli’s ministry.

Slipping her fingertips along the envelope seal, she carefully opened the letter. Eli’s mother had sent the letter all the way from Ohio for her son’s new bride. But there was more than just a letter enclosed. Inside the pages was a neatly folded handkerchief. June admired the pale blue fine linen, crisply starched and trimmed with delicate white lace. For a moment she held the gift close to her heart, inhaling its subtle lavender fragrance.

As nice as the present was, she couldn’t wait to read Mrs. Messenger’s words. She quickly unfolded the pages.

Dearest June,

I hope you won’t mind my taking the liberty of addressing you by your first name. When Eli wrote, telling us of his plans to marry, his father and I were elated. We wish you and our son great happiness. Perhaps when you’re settled, we can come and visit you.

When Eli wrote last year, informing us of the accident, we were gravely concerned. Eli explained how a tree had fallen on him and crushed his leg. Parker Sentell, Eli’s boss and very good friend, took Eli under his care and secured for him the services of the finest surgeon to be found in Seattle. After the operation and much time spent recuperating, Eli says his limp is only slightly noticeable.

We were very grateful to the Lord and Parker Sentell. And, of course, to Reverend Inman. I’m certain you can imagine our joy when Eli wrote that he had accepted the Lord’s call to preach the gospel. It was the answer to our prayers. To have a son in the ministry! And now, to know he has chosen a wife who shares his love for the Lord. Well, it doesn’t get any better! Except, of course, when the grandchildren start to arrive.

I hope you like the enclosed wedding gift. It was Eli’s paternal great-grandmother’s, and was given to me on my wedding day. I want you to have it.

I pray many happy and prosperous years embrace your marriage. We are anxiously waiting to hear from you.

Love,

Ruth and Paul Messenger

June sat for a moment, holding the letter. Ruth Messenger’s thoughtfulness already made her feel a welcomed part of the family.

Folding the letter back into the envelope, June placed the handkerchief inside her satchel with the rest of her wedding attire. She would carry it on top of her Bible as soon as Eli was well enough for the ceremony.

Kneeling beside the small cot, she prayed for Eli’s health to be restored, for his family, and for their forthcoming marriage.

Slipping beneath the cool sheets, she fell asleep to the sound of rain hammering the roof, content in the belief that morning would bring Eli’s first real signs of recovery.

Early the next morning she stepped out of the house, pausing to lift her face to the sun. Sunshine streamed down, and the rays felt gloriously warm! Not only had the rain ceased, but the sky was a brilliant blue—so blue, she thought of Parker Sentell’s eyes and frowned.

Deep green forests, towering Douglas firs, Sitka spruce, and western redwoods soared into the heavens.

Drawing a cleansing breath, she spun around and around, lifting her arms in praise. Thank you, heavenly Father! A day this beautiful can be nothing but special!

Hurrying back inside, she quickly covered the distance to Eli’s room, thinking she would mention Aunt Thalia’s poultice if he weren’t greatly improved this morning.

Pausing before his door, she rapped twice, hoping Mr. Sentell had decided to go to work today. He must work—a man with arms the size of fence posts didn’t just sit all day.

“Come in.”

June couldn’t believe her luck when she recognized Eli’s voice. She opened the door a crack and peeked in. Eli was propped up in the bed, looking very pale but improved from the first time she saw him. His voice was weak, yet the illness had done nothing to erase the friendly smile now hovering on his full mouth.

“You are looking much better today,” June assured him with a warm smile.

“I’m feeling much better,” Eli said. “I’m feeling almost human this morning.”

His color reminded June of a time Faith was gravely ill with the fever. They’d almost lost her. Brushing the disturbing thought aside, she reminded herself to be thankful Eli had a little color now. June closed the door, then approached the bed to fluff his pillows. “Have you eaten?”

“Ettie brought a tray in earlier. I managed to eat some hot cereal.”

“That’s a start!” She poured a glass of fresh water and handed him the cup.

He looked up gratefully, his hand trembling as he drank. “Thank you. I’m trying to force myself to eat—I need the strength.”

June waited until he drank a few swallows before she leaned over to steady his hand.

“Thank you.”

She smiled.

“Did Isaac meet the ship on time?”

“Yes, he was waiting when it docked. Thank you for sending him. It was very thoughtful of you.”

Eli dismissed her gratitude. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to meet you myself.”

“I understood. I wish you could have met Sam.”

“Sam?”

“Yes, she’s here to help her aunt, who runs the orphanage not far from here.”

“Oh . . . yes, I’ve seen the place. Angeline’s, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Angeline is Sam’s aunt.”

He took a last sip, then set the cup aside. “I was afraid you were ready to run back to Michigan when you got your first look at me the other night.”

“No, not at all! Why would you think that?”

He chuckled softly. “I fear I must make a pitiful sight.”

“Don’t be silly.” Her cheeks grew warm. “You’re very handsome. I’m not at all disappointed.” She straightened the mussed blankets, then sat down in the straight-back chair next to the bed. He obviously was going to need nursing; maybe he would allow her to help. Crossing her hands in her lap, she studied the pattern on the rug on the floor.

The silence stretched. Her mind raced with a million thoughts. Now that he was feeling better and able to get a clear look at her, was he having second notions? Had he expected someone prettier? Thinner? More outgoing?

No, she reasoned away the insecure thought. She’d been completely honest with Eli Messenger when she responded to his ad. She had enclosed a small tintype of herself, so unless he were blind—which she could clearly see he wasn’t—he would have known she was no raving beauty. She glanced up to find Eli studying her.

He gave a wan smile. “Penny for your thoughts.”

June blushed. “You wouldn’t be getting your money’s worth.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You look very serious.”

If he only knew her wayward thoughts, she’d die of embarrassment. Thank goodness Eli was an assistant preacher and not a mind reader.

“Would you like for me to read to you?” she asked.

“Not now. I’d like to just talk.”

“Of course.” She shifted in the chair, crossing and then recrossing her hands.

“You met Parker, didn’t you?”

She frowned. “Yes.”

With an attempt at another smile, Eli lay back against the pillow. “Is that a frown I see?”

“I’m sorry. It is. Parker doesn’t seem to like me.”

Eli closed his eyes. “You and Parker aren’t getting along?”

“Oh . . . it isn’t that.” She could hardly tell him that she didn’t like his friend. She barely knew Mr. Sentell. She would allow she might be misjudging him. “If you like him, that’s all that matters.”

Eli lay for a moment, gathering the strength to speak. “When I’m stronger, we’ll talk about Parker and what an exceptional friend he has been to me. No man could have any better. Parker’s accustomed to working with loggers—I’m afraid he overlooks etiquette when he’s around a woman. Too, Parker and the reverend don’t see eye to eye on Isaac’s tabernacle. When Isaac’s around, Parker tends to be difficult to get along with.”

Once again silence lapsed between them.

“Well, I don’t want to overly tire you. I’ll be going along—unless, of course, there’s anything you need.” June stood up, ready to leave.

Eli opened his eyes. “Resting is the one thing I’m getting very tired of doing.”

“I know it must be difficult to be confined to a sickbed. It won’t be long before you’re up and around again.”

“Yes . . . I’ll certainly welcome that. But don’t go—I want you to stay.”

June started to protest, but the sincerity in his hazel eyes touched her.

“We’ve barely begun to talk. I’ll rest for a moment; then we can visit. Please . . . stay.”

Moving the chair closer, she sat down again. “Of course, I’ll be happy to stay.”

She returned his attempted good-natured smile. Was he courting her? She wasn’t sure because no one had ever courted her before. But she supposed he could be. After all, they were about to be married. It would be proper enough. She smiled. “Your mother sent me your great-grandmother’s lovely handkerchief for the wedding. It was so thoughtful of her.”

“That’s Mama. . . . Always eager to do something nice for someone.” He appeared to doze for a moment.

If she had harbored any lingering doubts about coming west, these past few moments with Eli erased them. It was surely God’s plan for her life—a life devoted to Eli Messenger.

“Do you think you could eat again? I could have Ettie fix something light.”

Eli shook his head. “No, she’ll be bringing lunch soon. Fusses over me like an old mother hen.” He lay still for a moment, and June could see his strength fade. “Has Isaac shown you around?”

“No, he’s been very busy. It seems he works day and night.”

“Yes, he does. He cares so much for his people.”

“My, the crusade tent—it’s the biggest tent I’ve ever seen. Why, it’s even bigger than the one I saw when Aunt Thalia took us to a circus in Lansing one year.”

Eli smiled, and June realized she was babbling. She must go now and let him rest. He obviously wasn’t out of the woods. “Not that I’m comparing the revival tent to a circus—but then, you’re tired. I really must go,” she said, rising.

“No, please . . . I want to talk.”

June liked his gentle ways and the way he made her feel at ease. It was going to be a very good marriage.

Against her better judgment, she took her seat a third time. “Just a little longer.”

Eli opened his eyes, and they’d taken on a sudden shine. “I want to tell you about Isaac. He’s been preaching over thirty years, traveled the revival circuit, been practically everywhere.” He stopped for a moment, then began again. “He was with Jeremiah Lanphier at one time. You’ve heard of Lanphier? Jeremiah started weekly noon prayer meetings in New York City. Within months there were over six thousand people participating in daily prayer services.”

June listened to the warmth in Eli’s voice. He loved Reverend Inman deeply. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many people in my whole life.”

Eli smiled. “In May of that same year, fifty thousand people were converted.”

“Praise God.”

“The next year, Isaac traveled with a crusade to England.”

“My . . . all the way across the ocean?” June couldn’t imagine that, yet Sam had heard of Reverend Inman’s ministry.

“All that way. Tragically, his wife of forty years passed away on the voyage back. Katherine had a powerful dream, one she and Isaac shared. A vision, actually.”

“A vision?”

“The tabernacle. When Katherine was in New York, she saw the cathedrals of Saint Patrick and Saint John the Divine. Both she and Isaac were deeply moved, but it wasn’t until they traveled to England and saw the Lincoln and other cathedrals that Isaac was truly inspired.”

“Inspired to do what?”

“To build his own church. But not just a church. A tabernacle, a magnificent place to worship and glorify God,” Eli said, with great pride reflected in his voice. “Katherine shared that dream. Her dying words were, ‘Build our cathedral, Isaac. Build it for the glory of God.’” Eli’s eyes closed momentarily, then opened.

“A cathedral? Here? In the middle of the woods?”

June’s question seemed to renew his strength. “Here—on the land Isaac and Katherine purchased a few years back. Seattle is growing, June. The growth is precisely what’s needed to accommodate the large congregation Isaac is acquiring.”

“The only kind of church I’ve ever attended was one room—”

“Visualize it, June! See it—dream about it. Isaac, like King David in the Old Testament, desires to build a splendid tabernacle to the Lord, using only the best because the Lord deserves the best. Isaac and Katherine wanted to build something that would attest to the greatness of God.”

“Yes, I can see it,” she murmured.

“Every detail. An elegant handcrafted altar, made from the finest mahogany. Scarlet fabric cushioning the multitude of pews. A choir stall. Brass pillars. Stained-glass windows, each telling in mosaic beauty the story of Christianity. Magnificent materials and detailed workmanship, right down to candlesticks made of pure gold. Nothing but the best for the Lord.”

June was spellbound. She’d never heard of such grandeur, let alone seen anything as splendid as the church Eli described. It was a wonderful dream—a glorious tribute to God’s presence. “When does Reverend Inman plan to build this church?”

“Tabernacle. And we’ll build it as soon as there are sufficient funds. If God continues to bless as he has, it will be within the year.”

“You must be very excited to be a part of the dream,” June said.

“Yes . . . yes. I want to give God my best. Once the people see the magnificent building, it is our belief that they will experience God’s grace as well.”

Eli was clearly exhausted. Rising from her chair, June straightened his pillows. “I’ve worn you out. Thank you for sharing your dream.” When he voiced a weak protest, she said softly, “I’ll come back first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Eli grasped her hand warmly. “Thank you for spending this time with me. It’s been one of the nicest mornings of my life.”

“Thank you, Eli. Sleep well. I’ll visit again tomorrow.” She touched her fingers to her lips, then lay them across his forehead. It felt hot to her touch. “Sweet dreams.”