CHAPTER
28

On a sunny autumn afternoon, the ladies of Finch and the surrounding area arrived with their decorated baskets and placed them on a makeshift table that consisted of a wide board balanced on two sawhorses. The men arrived a short time later so as to avoid knowledge of who’d prepared what basket. Of course, the married men always knew and bid on the baskets prepared by their wives, and those baskets bore scant decoration. But the other baskets had been bedecked with ribbons, flowers, garlands, and even paper chains. The ladies paced in front of the table, examining the myriad baskets, with each unmarried lady hoping the young man of her dreams would win the bid for her basket.

Anticipation mounted as the men arrived and Hope searched the crowd for Luke. She caught sight of him as he circled the table with the other men. He couldn’t possibly miss her basket. Not one was similar to hers. A few of the baskets boasted turkey feathers, but the only ostrich feather waved proudly from the handle of her basket.

Once the men had completed their walk around the table, Hope’s father stepped forward. “I promised the man who performed the most hours of work over the past week the right to choose a basket without the need to bid on it.” He reached into his vest pocket and withdrew a small notebook. “I’ve kept a close calculation of the hours, and the winner of the contest is Thomas Ulrich.”

When the announcement was made, several groans could be heard from the crowd. Undeterred by the reaction of the other men, Thomas jumped to his feet and tossed his hat in the air.

The young fellow pushed his way through the crowd, a wide smile on his face. When he arrived at the table, he extended his arms above his head with his palms toward the crowd. “I got lots of blisters to show for this, but it ain’t gonna take me but a minute to pick the one I want.”

Hope held her breath. What if he chose hers? She grimaced at the thought. Then again it would likely serve her right since she’d schemed to have Luke bid on her basket.

Thomas pointed to a box. “I’ll take this one.”

Hope watched as Thomas reached forward and picked up a wicker basket with a large red-and-white gingham bow attached. She let out a sigh as she glanced around the crowd to see who would step forward to join Thomas. Her attention was drawn to Nellie, who was frowning and whispering to Margaret McCray.

The girl pulled away from Nellie. “I’m here, Thomas.” She ran toward him with a bright smile while waving to the crowd. She rushed to his side and grasped his arm, seemingly pleased that her basket had been chosen, though Nellie’s frown remained intact. Hope momentarily wondered if Nellie had wanted Thomas to bid on her basket. Though she’d never heard Nellie mention Thomas, that didn’t mean she wasn’t hoping to catch his eye.

A few of the men pushed up the bids against friends who were eager to win a particular basket. But mostly the baskets were quickly retrieved, and the couples wandered off to find a quiet spot to eat. When only four or five baskets remained, her father held up Hope’s basket.

She smiled when Luke called out a bid, but one of the visiting railroad managers who’d been talking to Hope earlier in the day immediately raised the bid. Luke raised the bid by ten cents, but the railroader again raised the bid. Back and forth it went until she feared Luke would have to end his bidding for lack of funds. She scowled at the railroader, who likely had more money than good sense, and was surprised to see Luke’s uncle move to the man’s side and whisper in his ear.

When Luke called out his next bid and her father turned toward the railroader, he shook his head. “I’m done. Let the other fella have it.”

Luke strode to the table, withdrew the payment from his pocket, and gestured to Hope. As she moved toward Luke, she stopped beside his uncle. “What did you say to that railroader to get him to stop bidding?”

Frank grinned. “I told him I knew the lady who fixed the food in that basket and that she had a good eye for decoratin’ and such, but couldn’t boil water if someone pumped it fer her. I told him any of the other baskets would be a better choice. Hope ya don’t mind, but I figured Luke was about to run outta money.”

Hope laughed. “I don’t mind a bit. Thank you.”

When she drew near, Luke nodded at his uncle. “What were you and Uncle Frank laughing about?”

After she related what she’d been told, Luke chuckled. “Leave it to Uncle Frank to take care of things. He’s been doing that a lot lately.”

“Has he? How so?” she asked as she spread a blanket for them beneath a tree.

Once she’d sat down on the blanket, he took her hand. “It’s a long story, but we’ve got plenty of time and I have a lot to tell you.”

“Finally.” She smiled nervously at him, and her voice held a tinge of hurt. “It seems like forever since you’ve wanted to talk to me at all.”

“I know, and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me once I explain.”

While Hope lifted the food from the basket and placed it on a cloth, Luke explained why he’d been avoiding her. “I know I should have told you, but I wanted to believe there would be a solution. I felt so foolish for not having realized my family needed me to support them, and marriage to you would put an end to everything for them. No income, no house to live in, and I knew I couldn’t do that. I have to admit I wasn’t too happy with God, either. I felt like He’d abandoned me, like He wasn’t hearing my prayers. All of it seemed so unfair. To have you come into my life, declare my love for you, and then realize we couldn’t marry felt like a bad dream.”

Her lips curved in a slow smile. “And now that bad dream has been replaced by a wonderful reality, but I do wish you would have come and talked to me rather than accepting Nellie’s opinion that I could never adjust to a different life. I would have been understanding, and together we could have arrived at some solution.”

He bit into a piece of crispy fried chicken. “This is delicious.” He waved the drumstick in the air. “Best chicken I’ve ever had.”

She shushed him. “Don’t let that railroader hear you talking—not after what your uncle told him.”

His eyes widened and he lowered his voice. “What do you think about marrying the fellow who knows you fry the best chicken in the state of West Virginia?”

“First, I would wonder if he’d asked my father for permission to marry me.” Her voice quivered, her eyes shining with excitement.

“And if he said that your father had given his blessing?” Luke grinned, thankful he’d spoken to Pastor Irvine and asked for permission to wed his daughter.

She giggled. “I think I’d be very happy to marry him, but I must say that I had hoped for a more romantic proposal.”

He picked up a cloth napkin and wiped his hands before taking her hand in his. “You’re right. That wasn’t very good at all. I love you very much, Hope, and I’d be honored if you’d agree to become my wife. You’d make me the happiest and best-fed man in all of West Virginia if you said yes.”

“How could I refuse such a sweet request? I would be honored to become Mrs. Luke Hughes.”

He cupped her cheeks between his hands, leaned forward and kissed her. “You, Hope Irvine, are the answer to my prayers.”

The day dawned bright and crisp in late October with the sun glistening through the leaves that still clung to the trees, and all seemed right with the world. After Kirby’s incarceration, his father had decided to sell the mine, and yesterday the new owner had arrived. He’d met with the miners and their families and answered their questions before announcing there would be an increase in pay for the miners and avowing their families would no longer be required to do business with the company store. The news had been met with enthusiasm, which spread throughout the town, and her father had offered a prayer of thanksgiving later that evening.

Hope placed an iron skillet on the small stove, then opened the rear door of the railcar to allow a breeze to pass through while she prepared breakfast. Her attention flitted back and forth to the window while she fried bacon and eggs. Luke had resumed his morning Bible study meetings with her father, and she’d insisted he join them for breakfast each day.

A smile played at her lips when she caught sight of him. Knees lifted high with each step, he tromped through the damp, calf-high grassy expanse. His boots and pant legs were wet with dew when he arrived at the rear door. He glanced down and then proceeded to remove his boots.

Hope shook her head. “No need to do that, Luke. The floor will dry in no time. Come and sit down. Breakfast is almost ready. I need to tell Papa.” She stepped to the doorway between the living quarters and sanctuary, where her father sat on one of the pews. “Breakfast, Papa. Luke is here.”

He looked up and smiled. “Smells good. My stomach is rumbling already.” He stood and followed her into the living quarters. “Morning, Luke.”

“Morning, Preacher. Looks like you were getting a head start on our Bible studying.”

The older man chuckled. “Just trying to stay out of Hope’s way while she’s cooking. I was in there having a long talk with the Lord.”

“Anything in particular you’re trying to hash out?” Luke poured them each a cup of coffee.

“As a matter of fact, there’s several things I’ve been praying about over the past couple months, and it seems the answer has arrived for at least some of those petitions.”

Hope heaped their plates with bacon, eggs, and fried potatoes before she sat down. “Would you pray, Papa?”

“Why don’t you, Luke? I’m sure the Lord gets tired of hearing me all the time.” Hope’s father chuckled and bowed his head.

Luke gave thanks for their meal and the bounty of God’s blessings on the miners and their families and asked that He guide all of them through the coming day.

“Thank you, Luke.” Her father tucked a napkin in his shirt collar. “I always enjoy hearing you pray—and I enjoy hearing you preach, too. I think I’m going to have you preach more often.”

Hope glanced at her father. While she was accustomed to her father praising Luke for his increasing knowledge of the Bible and ability to preach when her father was ill or needed elsewhere, his comment seemed strangely out of place this morning. Besides, even though her father’s health had returned, Luke continued to preach at one of the church meetings several days a week.

Luke’s forehead tightened into thin lines. “You been feeling poorly again?”

“No, I’m doing fine. Even the doc agrees.” He smiled and reached inside his vest pocket and withdrew an envelope. “I haven’t told Hope about this. Thought it would be better to talk to the two of you together.”

Her father’s words could mean only one thing: bad news. The fact that he wanted Luke with her when she heard the news—whatever it might be—didn’t bode well for them.

He laid the envelope beside his plate and tapped it with his fingers. “This is from the association headquarters, Luke. The association that sponsors the chapel car and our new church building. I received a letter from them back in September, requesting a report on the status of the construction, the number of regular attendees at our meetings, amount of debt we may have incurred, and other pertinent information about our mission here in Finch.”

When he turned silent, Hope leaned forward. “And?”

“And I wrote and answered their questions. Yesterday I received a response from them.” He smiled at his daughter.

“Were they pleased with the progress you’ve made? What did they say?”

He cleared his throat. “They say it will soon be time for the Herald of Hope to move on and help in another community.”

Panic seized her. “Move on? Why? Because the church is being rebuilt? When do they want you to leave? Exactly what did they say?”

Luke reached for her hand and gently covered it with his own. “Don’t get yourself all worked up, Hope. You’re hitting him with more questions than a load of buckshot. Give your pa a chance to answer.”

Hope exhaled a long breath and stared at her father. “Could we please have more details?” She turned toward Luke. “Was that better?”

He grinned and nodded. “Much.”

“The association believes we’ve done a good job here in Finch, what with rebuilding the church at the—”

“But it’s not complete yet.” Hope couldn’t stop herself. “Did you tell them the steeple isn’t finished and we’ve got to get windows put in before winter? And that we only have benches to sit on until we can afford pews? And that the bell hasn’t arrived yet?”

Her father directed a forlorn look at the congealed bubbles of grease that had formed on his bacon. “I should have finished eating before I mentioned the letter.”

“You could eat while I read the letter.” Hope extended her hand.

“Read it aloud so Luke hears what they had to say.” Her father pushed the letter across the table.

Hope scooped up the envelope and withdrew the folded page. She cleared her throat and glanced at Luke as she spread open the creamy stationery.

Dear Reverend Irvine,

Thank you for your recent response to our earlier inquiry regarding your pastoral duties in Finch, West Virginia. Having examined your report, the association has made the following decision. The Herald of Hope will remain in Finch until April of next year in order to give you adequate time to complete construction of the church building and to make certain you have returned to full health.

As to your recommendation of a preacher for the church in Finch, we agree with your recommendation that Luke Hughes continue under your tutelage until you depart. At that time, we recommend he take over as pastor of the church there. If Mr. Hughes accepts the position, the association will pay him a monthly stipend and provide adequate living accommodations. Your letter stated that your daughter, Hope, is engaged to Mr. Hughes. Since she will no longer accompany you on the Herald of Hope, we will grant your request and donate the chapel car organ to the newly established church in Finch. You may return to use of the gramophone at your new assignment.

As the date of your departure draws closer, we will contact you regarding your new assignment. Please accept our grateful thanks for the good work you and your daughter have accomplished in Finch.

“Oh, Papa. This is all so wonderful.” Hope clutched the letter to the bodice of her blue-print blouse. “Except for the portion about you leaving.”

Her father patted her shoulder. “Whenever I go into a town, I know it will only be for a season. My work here is almost done, and I know I’m going to be leaving it in good hands. With Luke serving as pastor of the church and you by his side to help, I know the Lord will continue to do good things in this town.”

“I’m honored you would submit my name to lead the church, but I’m not sure I’m qualified. I don’t have all that seminary education like you. I’m not sure I’ve had enough training to be the preacher.”

“I’m sure or I wouldn’t have recommended you, Luke. There are lots of preachers who are called to spread God’s Word who haven’t attended seminary. You gained a solid knowledge of the Bible years ago, you’ve studied with me, you’ve been given a gift to preach, and you’ve expressed to me that you believe the Lord has called you to preach. The door has opened, Luke. You need only step through.” Hope’s father pushed away from the table. “Besides, it’s only October. You have six more months to study and become comfortable with the idea.” He turned to his daughter. “And you, my dear, have six more months to plan a wedding.”

She nodded in agreement, yet his reminder of the wedding was also a signal that her life would forever change in six months. Would she adjust to life without her father nearby? Could she adapt to a permanent life in Finch? Would she and Luke be happy once they married? A knot of fear settled in the pit of her stomach, and she quietly excused herself and stepped into the sanctuary.

She sat down on the organ stool, rested her fingers on the keys, and began to play “Trust and Obey.” Moments later, the deep baritone and tenor voices of her father and Luke wafted into the room. When they stepped behind her, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the two men she loved.