Just Above a Whisper (5 page)

Douglas glanced at his wife and found her hiding a smile. Douglas had to do the same. Alison often said he had every verse of Scripture memorized. It was a common teasing point between them.

It was not long, however, before they turned their attention back to their guests: Douglas to the questions Jace and Maddie had, and Alison with a “mother’s” eye on Maddie’s pallor.

“Reese,” Mr. Zantow called from the table in the parlor during his Sunday dinner. Reese left her dinner at the kitchen table and went to him.

“Do we have any more of that berry preserve you put up last summer?”

“I think so,” Reese answered, turning back to the kitchen to look.

Had someone been watching them—someone who didn’t know the details—they would have been amazed at the transformation. Reese found the jam, gave it to Mr. Zantow, and was thanked for her efforts.

When Mr. Zantow was not drunk, he was not an unkind individual, and he treated Reese with a detached level of courtesy. They were not friends; she was very clearly his servant. It was only when he was drunk that he frightened her.

Reese’s papers bound her for two more years, but she had thought a number of times that if she didn’t have to live in the same house with Mr. Zantow, she could easily go on working for him.

Looking for dessert, he came into the kitchen when he was done with the meal she had fixed. Sometimes he called for it, and sometimes he came seeking.

“Is there dessert?” he asked, knowing there would be.

Reese stood up again, having grown used to the fact that she towered over him. He was a small man, slimly built and not even of an average height. Standing almost a foot above him, Reese thought she could pick out the top of his balding head in a snowstorm.

“Whortleberry pudding,” she said, plucking the pan from the shelf by the hearth, knowing it would still be warm. “Do you want me to serve it up, or do you want the whole pan?”

“You can serve it,” he told her, taking the coffeepot with him and returning to the parlor. “With cream,” he called back to her, and Reese served a generous portion for him and covered it with cream.

She prepared her own dessert when she got back, wishing he’d not taken the coffee but content to sit and eat her own dessert before she was called again.

“How are you feeling?” Cathy Shephard asked of her niece, Maddie.

“I feel fine, a little odd at times but no complaints.”

The women had shared a warm hug before sitting down in the parlor. Cathy had been working in the kitchen, but she wanted a break.

“I worried a bit when you didn’t come for services yesterday.”

“We went to the other meetinghouse.”

“Did you?” Cathy asked in a voice Maddie couldn’t label. “Is the new building all done?”

“All but the last two pews. Mr. Zantow is still working on those.”

“He does fine work.”

The conversation came to a comfortable halt at that point, which gave Maddie a chance to think. For the first time, it occurred to her that her aunt knew nothing of the conversations she’d shared with Jace in the last few months, and she certainly didn’t know about dinner yesterday. Jace had wanted to talk about theocentricity the rest of the day. Maddie had never considered how much God was in the center of everything, and she could feel her own excitement mounting.

“Do you have a long list today for the store?” Cathy asked. Cathy and her husband, Doyle Shephard, owned Tucker Mills’ general store.

“No, Clara’s over there now. I’ll check on her later.”

“You look a little tired.”

“I am.”

“Everything all right with you and Jace?”

“Yes,” Maddie answered with a smile, thinking of how solicitous he’d been with her the whole day. Even amid his excitement about their dinner conversation, he had checked with her almost constantly.

“Put your feet up.” Cathy suddenly stood and moved the footstool. Maddie took the offer and even fell asleep for a few minutes. Clara came looking for her not long afterward, and as soon as Cathy had put together a basket of baked goods for them, they returned to the Randall farm to work the rest of the day out.

“Well, Reese,” Mrs. Greenlowe popped her head out the front door to the almost-finished porch, a surprised look on her face. “Zantow is done for the day.”

“Yes, but he forgot a tool, and I need to look for it.”

“Well, come in when you’re done and sit for a bit.”

Reese’s mouth was opening when the door shut. Reese would have to explain that Mr. Zantow was waiting. She began to look around the porch, spotting various tools but not seeing the one he had described. She didn’t want to carry the entire lot back to the house, but it was looking as though she had no choice.

A little more searching ensued before she began to move boards. Finally she spotted it: a chisel. Reese took long enough to explain to Mrs. Greenlowe that she couldn’t stay and started home.

A certain level of frustration filled her when it seemed that everyone she passed wanted to talk. On a day when Mr. Zantow told her to take her time, it was hard to find a soul who wanted to visit. He would never understand that the last person to stop her had been Mr. Somer, the town’s complainer. He had decided to tell her all about his back and the remedy he was trying to alleviate the ache. Still shaking her head with the irony of it all, she sped up her pace, not wanting Mr. Zantow to be impatient with her.

“Maddie and I talked for a long time after we left here on Sunday,” Jace told Douglas on Tuesday afternoon while sitting in the pastor’s study. He hadn’t planned to stop but had found himself with a little extra time. “She said I can come and see you whenever I like.”

“You couldn’t before?” Douglas clarified.

“Not without warning her that I was coming, and that’s my own fault. Twice I came home and told her I’d been here, and she got upset. She had so many questions before we were married, but I told her everything was fine. Now I’m the one looking for answers.”

“And it upsets her.”

“Very much. I had convinced her that all was well, and by my asking questions, it’s confused things in her mind all over again.”

“Aren’t you thankful?” Douglas suddenly asked, and Jace looked surprised.

“Yes,” he agreed softly. “I guess I am. If Maddie hadn’t been asking those questions all along, I don’t know if my mind would have been so troubled.”

“How is she feeling, by the way?”

“She’s all right. She was so pale at the table on Sunday that it scared me a little. And she did admit to me later that she felt dizzy, but she didn’t want to interrupt or miss anything.”

“You both have good questions, Jace,” Douglas said.

Jace shook his head a little, having a hard time believing that, but he was too desperate to argue the point.

“I have to get back to the farm, but I do have one final question.”

“Let’s have it.”

“I want to believe that God would forgive me, but I’ve been smug and sure of myself. Now I want some part of Him, and what makes me think I have anything to bring or offer?”

“You don’t, Jace,” Douglas put it bluntly. “Well, you come with your sin, but nothing else. It’s all on God’s part, the grace and the saving. And the reason we can be certain of His love is because He tells us in His Word.”

“It’s always back to the Bible, isn’t it?”

“Thankfully, yes. Nothing else stays the same. The Bible is consistent, understandable for all who believe. I stake my very existence on it.”

“And you think that if I believe, God will accept me?”

“Yes. He’s looking for humble hearts who know they need a Savior. He’s waiting to be that Savior. He’s the only one who qualifies.”

“Because He was sinless.”

Douglas was able to answer with a pleased nod, glad to know this man had been listening.

While Jace sat in the study working to take this in, Alison answered the knock she heard on the front door. She found Reese on the porch.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Alison, but could I possibly speak with Douglas?”

“He’s with someone, Reese. Can I help you?” she asked when she noticed Reese was trembling.

“I don’t know.”

“Come in,” Alison offered kindly. Reese Thackery had the most amazing effect on the pastor’s wife. She never saw her without wanting to say a kind word or do something for her.

“I didn’t know who else to tell,” Reese said when Alison followed her into the parlor. “Mr. Zantow is dead.”