Chapter 1. Broken

1906, Late in the month of May, Brighton Lake at Garfield, Kentucky, of Lincoln County

Abigail Careen Parker sat with her knees pulled tightly to her chest on a corner of the patchwork quilt Mother had spread for the Saturday afternoon picnic. She gazed out serenely at the pleasant scene before her. For just a moment she could finally breathe; just simply breathe, without feeling the heart of her soul ache or feeling her physical heart literally pound from the wounds of emotional distress. Her entire being was distraught. It was all she could do to simply go on existing, as if nothing had ever happened. There were a few moments that refreshed and energized her, propelling her forward, though she was dazed and numb.

Every now and then, a breeze gently rippled through her long, golden curls. Her white lace parasol trimmed in pale blue silk ribbon prevented the intensity of the sunshine from scorching her fair skin. The folds of her long, white gown with the tiny blue floral pattern billowed out around her. For a while her gaze was held by the eyelet lace trim at the edge of her sleeves but eventually the laughter of children and gentle rippling of the lake drew her attention.

The Parker grandchildren rambled about giggling and chasing each other on the lawn on the banks of the lake. Aunt Olivia sat beside her sister, Kathryn Parker (Abigail’s mother), observing the children as she wrapped up a platter of the remaining corn meal breaded chicken in a cheesecloth. She carefully tucked it back into the depths of the picnic basket Father had lugged from the coach.

“I must say, that orange marmalade is the best we’ve made yet,” Aunt Olivia declared, placing a jar into the basket. She prided herself on her cooking and enjoyed bestowing the Parker family with her talents. Kathryn and Olivia were the closest of sisters. Olivia, having never married, had lived with the Parkers since Kathryn’s first son, Peter, was born. Cooking for the large household was her way of showering them with her affection and appreciation.

Kathryn nodded her agreement as she peeled back some of the tan cloth covering a basket at her elbow to reveal three more jars of the delicious marmalade. “It certainly is. I brought some extra jars along to send home with Callie, Elizabeth and Rose Marie. I thought it most refreshing with those buttermilk biscuits on a day like today!”

Aunt Olivia beamed with pleasure to see Kathryn sharing the marmalade. “I lost count of how many biscuits these boys put away. They are hard workers with hearty appetites, each and every one of them! Abigail, will you please hand me that sewing satchel with my yarn? I’m going to work on my crochet project. ” Absentmindedly, Abigail handed her the navy blue canvas bag and Aunt Olivia began working on a shawl she was making Hannah for Christmas.

After the luncheon, which Abigail had scarcely been able to touch, Father had gathered her brothers for some fishing. Peter and Noah were sitting on a long tree trunk hanging over the lake, while Father and Matthew contented themselves to a shady patch of grass some feet away. Abigail watched her father as he securely placed a worm on a hook and cast his line into the water.

It was good to have her older brother Matthew home. He lived in Chicago near the D. L. Moody Bible Institute he had attended and currently held the position of Assistant Pastor in a growing Baptist congregation. Abigail wondered if he had a sweetheart in his life. She might ask him before he returned to Chicago, if she could hold a conversation long enough with him. She hadn’t been able to hold a conversation with anyone. She knew it was because she had been unable to find a way to resolve her heavy heart. She felt paralyzed with issues that troubled her greatly. She could barely focus on anything else these past few weeks.

To Abigail’s right, Elizabeth (Abigail’s oldest sister) and her husband, Joseph Calhoun (who owned the lumber mill in Garfield), were stretched out on a picnic blanket beneath a giant maple tree. Elizabeth had brought a potato salad large enough for an army and then some, along with a bowl of fresh sliced tomatoes and cucumbers from her very own kitchen garden. They had gone nicely with the shelled peas and string beans Peter’s wife, Callie, had prepared from her own garden.

Abigail was vaguely aware that her brother-in-law, Joseph, was snoring beneath the English cap he’d covered his face with. She hadn’t noticed that Elizabeth was too tired to be cross with her husband for falling asleep. Five children and managing the needs of the few boarders they welcomed into their home kept her busy and content. Elizabeth lay propped on one elbow on their own quilt watching her darlings ramble about. She looked as if she were the happiest woman on the face of the earth, though somewhat sleepy herself.

On another quilt to Abigail’s left, her other sister, Rose Marie, her two stepchildren and husband, Charles, had situated themselves. They had arrived with two blackberry pies, one custard pie, one rhubarb pie and several pitchers and crocks of lemonade and sweet tea.

Peter’s wife, Callie, sat beside Rose Marie, coaxing her daughter, Heaven Pearl, to eat her green beans; though Heaven, almost seven years old, only had eyes for what the other children were doing. She wanted to get up and run about with the others and wasn’t interested in the least with food, of any kind. Not even the offer of a slice of pie if she finished her vegetables had enticed her. Abigail could certainly relate to not having an appetite and she studied her little niece briefly as she staunchly refused to finish her plate. Eventually, Callie gave up and released her daughter to play with her cousins. Heaven Pearl went, her legs carrying her as fast as they could toward the other children.

“A letter came from Hannah today,” Mother said happily as two hoops ran away from Emma and Carrie and toppled directly onto the quilt. Mother scooped both hoops up and smiled as she handed them back to her granddaughters. The girls never seemed to grow weary of hoops and sticks. They wore white dresses with white sashes, white ribbons in their hair on each of their braids and black stockings with brown shoes.

“Sorry Grandmamma!” Emma sang out, grinning gingerly.

“Yes, we’re sorry!” Carrie stopped long enough to take her hoop back and stood for a moment to beam at her grandmother. She reached down to where Kathryn Parker was sitting and gave her a hug. Kathryn smiled as she was embraced and then, just like that, Carrie released her and ran off to chase Emma and their younger sister Amelia, whose hoop was steering dangerously close to the lake.

“Oh how I miss that girl!” Aunt Olivia replied. “We had such a lovely summer the year Hannah and Wilson came home for a month long visit. Sometimes I think I will never get over missing her.”

“My heart aches for Hannah too.” Mother fished the letter out of the pocket hidden beneath the folds of her long, pale yellow, summer gown. “She writes that they have safely returned from an art exhibition in Paris. They displayed many of her paintings at an outdoor exhibit on the lawn of a cathedral. The exhibit lasted for almost a month and drew over four hundred guests to a revival. Wilson preached for three nights in a row every week during the exhibit. More than a third of those in attendance accepted Jesus Christ as their Savior by the end of the revival!”

“That’s marvelous news!” Callie said, smiling at the thought of their Hannah traveling all over England and Europe to carry the gospel. “I wonder how they liked being in Paris or if they were able to see any sights while they were there.”

Kathryn continued reading, a huge grin on her face as she shared more from the letter. “She does mention that they took in a few of the tourist attractions and her favorite was the Louvre. She writes: ‘We arrived back in England a fortnight ago and hope to take a trip into London to see the dedication of some sort of memorial in honor of Queen Victoria. She is hoping for a glimpse of a rare appearance by some of the Queen’s children.’ ”

“Wouldn’t that be exciting to see the royal children of the former Queen of England?” Rose Marie queried as she smoothed her mauve skirt and tried to imagine what it would be like for Hannah to live in a mansion in England and travel throughout Europe. What a wondrous mission Hannah Jubilee had embarked upon when she had married Reverend Wilson Carpenter. It seemed to all of the Parkers that their beloved, adopted sister, Hannah, had been away far too long.

“Does she mention if they will be coming home to Kentucky anytime this summer? Perhaps for the holidays?” Elizabeth asked as she sat up on one elbow to hear more of the letter. News of Hannah always brought her great joy.

“No, she doesn’t mention a trip home. We must be patient girls. She is doing the Lord’s work. He will bring her home to us soon, I’m certain of it,” Mother said as she looked to her right and left at her daughters, her eyes finally resting on Abigail’s rather forlorn but mildly interested expression. “Or maybe the good Lord will see fit to take us there. She does mention however, that they hosted a dinner party—in which a Countess was in attendance, the mother of a bride-to-be, who informally announced her wedding engagement to a neighbor of theirs… ummm…” Mother quickly scanned the letter for the name of the neighbor having lost her place momentarily in her concern for Abigail’s emotional state of health. Obviously Abby was in some degree of distress. Try to hide it as she might, it could not be hidden from close family members. She would certainly speak with Abigail privately before the day’s end to offer some words of comfort and try to discover all that was the matter. “Uh, here it is: the neighbor she writes of is a titled gentleman, a Lord Sheldon Gilmore. Hmmm, I wonder if he is a Duke, or perhaps a Viscount… or some such noble. Oh, it says here he is a Viscount.”

With that remark, they all giggled in frivolous and dreamy wonder at what the Lord Sheldon Gilmore might be like. Was he tall and handsome? Wealthy perhaps?

“A Viscount for a neighbor? How splendid!” Rose Marie breathed dreamily.

“A Duke is much higher in the peerage than a Viscount,” Abigail clarified. Ever the avid reader in the family, the others took her word as the authority on the subject. It was difficult to keep up with aristocratic titles in lands separated from them by an ocean, even though all of the family spent a great deal of time reading. Mother was pleased with this remark. Abigail had barely said two words through the entire picnic. She suspected matters of the heart as the culprit to her nineteen year old daughter’s gloomy mood in recent weeks.

The conversation turned to what kind of dress Hannah might wear to see the queen’s children and they quickly deemed she would need another gown suitable for more dinner parties. It didn’t matter that Hannah was hundreds of miles across the ocean from them. In their hearts they were thinking of how they would help Hannah prepare for her adventures and how they would celebrate each and every one with her if they could. They were all rather dreamily contemplating Hannah’s news for a few enjoyable minutes. Then they moved on to the topic of making new dresses and for whom; and with what patterns and fabrics in which they might make them.

They were briefly interrupted by cheers for Noah from all those in attendance at the picnic as he triumphantly displayed the first catch of the afternoon from the shore of Lake Brighton. Then Matthew insisted, with a twinkle in his eye, that they all pipe down since they’d scared off the bite that had absconded with his bait. “Bring me another night crawler Patrick!” Matthew said in a good natured tone. Elizabeth’s oldest son obeyed his uncle enthusiastically.

Abigail remained mostly quiet through all of this chatter but the afternoon did distract her somewhat from her present troubles. Elizabeth Calhoun couldn’t help but notice her sister’s sullen mood and downcast expression, though she tried so hard to hide it beneath that parasol.

“How are the twins? Do they like finishing school? I haven’t had a letter from Wisconsin in quite a while,” Rose Marie complained.

“Mary Olivia and Charity Jane are enjoying their summer now that the school session is out.” Aunt Olivia informed her. “I had a letter a few weeks ago. I don’t get many either. I think they have quite a busy social life from what I gather.”

“I miss the twins also but I know they will benefit from this school. Grandmother Parker has nothing but praise for it. It is such a blessing for them to attend. If Grandfather Parker had not applied for those scholarships, this door would not have opened.” Mother remarked. “We could never have afforded such a fine education for our girls any other way.”

“Are they coming home this summer?” asked Elizabeth.

“I think so, but your father and I are contemplating going there instead. It’s been so long since he’s been to visit his family.”

“That would be nice for you and Calvin to get away,” Aunt Olivia commented.

“Here comes Jordan!” Mother set her embroidery hoop aside having spotted her youngest son approaching on his bicycle, trying to balance a fishing pole while riding.

He pulled up to a stop close by and called out, “Hello everyone!” He tossed his bicycle and fishing pole aside and straightened his cap on his head to shade his eyes from the sun as he embraced all of his cousins who had clambered around him in excitement. He sat down beside Mother. “Sorry I’m late. Archery practice went over today.”

“Never mind about that. We’re just glad you’ve arrived. Your Aunt Olivia saved a plate for you.” Mother hugged her son warmly and he smiled, relieved that he wasn’t lectured.

Aunt Olivia passed Jordan his plate. He removed his cap respectfully and his ferocious appetite went to work at once. After he swallowed three bites he looked up at Olivia again and managed to say: “Thank you! I was starved! Dear Lord, bless this food!”

She smiled to see her nephew eager to enjoy the food and proceeded to tell him whom had brought each contribution on his plate as he continued to eat every bite.

“Let’s take a stroll around the lake Abigail,” Elizabeth suggested as Mother and Olivia resumed their handiwork while conversing with Rose Marie and Callie.

Abigail looked at her older sister as if she was speaking in a foreign tongue, her head tilted to one side. As Elizabeth rose to her feet, a look of relief washed over Mother’s face in gratitude for the intervention her eldest daughter was offering to her younger, hurting sister. Abigail finally processed what her sister had said when she saw Elizabeth’s long skirts swirling before her. She agreed by accepting the hand Elizabeth had offered to help her to her feet. Rose Marie, Olivia and Callie all stopped talking long enough to exchange equally concerned looks. Jordan shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat some of the chicken.

Elizabeth tucked her arm in Abigail’s and they walked around the farthest perimeter of the lake, close to the edge of the woods where they wouldn’t be in the way of the children as they played with their hoops and sticks. Elizabeth’s two youngest daughters, Carrie and Amelia, tried to follow them for a while. Eventually they lost interest and returned to join their other three siblings: Emma, Patrick, and Benjamin. Elizabeth and Abigail continued to stroll at a leisurely pace around the lake. Holly and Harry, Rose Marie’s stepchildren, seemed more interested in fishing with their grandfather, Reverend Calvin Parker. Heaven Pearl seemed to bounce between Elizabeth’s children and Rose Marie’s at her good pleasure.

“Tell me what the matter is Abigail Careen,” Elizabeth insisted when they were far enough away from prying ears. “And don’t try to sugar coat whatever it is that ails you. I know something is terribly wrong. You look as though a bull just ran through your china shop.”

“You aren’t going to tell Father?” she asked.

“Of course I’m not going to tell Father!”

“You mustn’t tell a living soul until I decide what I shall do,” Abigail declared vehemently.

“I’m too busy cleaning house and looking after five children to tell a single soul anything except to wash behind their ears, take this cup of tea upstairs to Mrs. Pickering, put that throw pillow back upon the sofa, don’t sit on the furniture in the parlor if you’ve been playing outdoors, finish your chores, make your bed, pick your bloomers up off the floor, eat all of your dinner and for heaven’s sake, stop touching your brother and listen to Master Parker in school! No, not your cousin Heaven, the heaven up above!” This detailed account of her daily life earned Elizabeth a smile she’d worked for.

“Yes, I suppose you are rather too busy with your brood of chicks to be a tattletale. No meddling Elizabeth. I have to figure this out for myself.”

“I don’t even know what I shouldn’t meddle about,” Elizabeth said with humor and slight exasperation.

“I’m in trouble.”

“Is that all then? Aren’t we all? Cheer up! Life is just a series of troubles we must all find our way through.”

“I’m carrying Jack’s baby.”

Elizabeth nearly tripped on her own feet. Abigail steadied her. They stopped for a moment until Abigail steadied her sister’s balance. “Keep going or Mother will instinctively know what’s wrong… and she’ll come running out here to thrash me. Keep walking, as if nothing is the matter at all.” Abigail instructed her sister almost numbly. Hadn’t she been putting her two feet on the floor and taking one step after another now for some weeks.

“But…” Elizabeth stammered and had turned white as a ghost, though her feet were slowly moving forward. “How do you… are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve been throwing up for weeks now. Morning sickness. But since I’m not married-- well, this is going to destroy Father once this news travels ‘round the church. Never mind that my own future is entirely in shambles. My sins will bring ruin and shame upon the whole family! Being a preacher’s daughter puts all of us in a predicament over my folly. None of us shall be permitted entrance into anyone’s home of good repute in this community --and all because of what I’ve done. Really, they should disown me. Mother and Father are nearly perfect parents and what have I done? I’ve repaid them with-- with this complete disaster.” Abigail took in a deep breath. There, she’d said what she’d been holding in for weeks.

“Oh good Lord above help us! I hadn’t even considered the church ….or Father yet. I’m not past the p…pu…pregnant with no husband part.” Elizabeth still looked stunned. She had retrieved a fan from the folds of her dress and was rapidly fanning herself.

“I have to leave Kentucky. Tongues will surely wag --and they’ll demand Father resign from his pastoral duties immediately.”

“Oh Abigail, this is simply dreadful! Your baby doesn’t have a father! Are you quite certain? Perhaps you are mistaken. Have you talked to Jack yet? Surely he will do the honorable thing when he returns from …where did you say he went?”

“It’s too late. As I told you, I’m absolutely certain I’m in this way… and I spoke to his parents hoping to find Jack. They don’t know anything about the baby, and if God is gracious to me, maybe they’ll never know.”

“Why do you say that? Doesn’t Jack love you? Doesn’t he want to raise his own baby and marry the mother of his child?”

“…Oh Elizabeth! If only it was that simple to resolve!” Tears began streaming down Abigail’s cheeks. Oddly enough, she was in so much shock that the sound of her voice didn’t even reflect her tears. She sounded perfectly calm and slightly bitter, yet in control of her emotions. The anger was almost all gone and after what her sister revealed next, Elizabeth could see that Abigail had prayed a great deal to come this far in her composure.

Abigail continued, “Jack ran off in the middle of the night with Helen Richards two weeks ago. Not even one word of good-bye to me …or so long… or nice knowing you …. He and Helen… were married … at a justice of the peace a few counties over. At this very moment, they are somewhere in Missouri with some distant relatives of …hers. He’s not coming back anytime soon. He plans to put roots down far away from Kentucky since his Father isn’t too happy with him right now. His parents had their hearts set on Jack marrying me …and they are heartbroken.” Abigail paused to wipe away a few of the tears. “My heart would only break more in two if he were here, with Helen as his wife, or if he was here married to me-- but secretly in love with Helen for the rest of our married life. It’s for the best, really.” Abigail explained the entire fiasco, a few more tears rolling down her cheeks, but a rather calm numbness in her voice.

“I’m so sorry Abigail! We’ll find a way to deal with this. God will not let you down in your hour of need. We all make mistakes. I will pray too. You must come and see me tomorrow if you can make the trip into town. We will figure something out with God’s help.” Elizabeth gritted her teeth and her fan seemed to go even faster than before as they walked. Elizabeth clasped her sister’s arm with her free hand a little more tightly. “I could just beat that boy black and blue! I thought he and Helen Richards were long over and done with.”

“So did I,” Abigail said, wiping the tears from her cheeks and clinging to her sister’s bent arm as they rounded the bend in the lake to turn along the other side back toward the picnic blankets and the rest of the family. “So did I.”

So rend your heart, and not your garments; return to the Lord your God, for He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness; And He relents from doing harm.

Joel 2:13 KJV