Angel Train Page 25

  “Well, if it ain’t the doctor and his lady friend.”

  York knew there had been gossip about him and Marzina. They lived on different floors of the house—but still it was the same house. He had seen this man before, a rough-looking character with an imposing bulk and a loose mouth. He had been drinking, and his tone was crude and loud.

  “Let us pass if you don’t mind.”

  “Well, ain’t you got pretty manners now, Doc! I bet you show this woman here some pretty manners, too, don’t you?” He grabbed Marzina by the arm. She tried to move, but he had a grip like a vise.

  “Turn me loose, please,” she begged.

  “Why, I don’t know why you’d be satisfied with a scrawny-looking specimen like this here doctor. He can’t satisfy a woman, but I can.”

  “Turn her loose,” York said. He knew he had no chance in a fistfight with this man. He’d never been good at that and never wanted to be, but now there was no choice since the bully was pulling Marzina away. He swung and struck the man on the forearm, and immediately a fist struck him in the forehead. The world turned to flashing whirligigs. He felt himself hit and tried to get up, but the blow seemed to have disconnected his brain from his muscles.

  “Now, sweetheart, me and you will go have a drink.”

  “Let me go!” Marzina cried.

  “Not likely. We’re gonna—”

  Suddenly, almost miraculously it seemed to Marzina, she saw the big man crumple and fall forward. She lifted her eyes and saw Sheriff Joe Meek replacing his pistol in his holster. “Hate to use my hands on scum like that. I might break a finger. He ain’t worth it. Kind of hard on weapons though.”

  “Oh, thank you, Sheriff.”

  “Why, I wouldn’t let this scum do anything to hurt our doctor or you either, missy.” He pulled the big man to his feet. “Come along, Jed, and we’ll put you where the dogs don’t bite you.”

  Marzina asked, “Are you all right, York?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “You’re bleeding over your eyebrow. I think you’ll need stitches.”

  “Well, I better go do it then.”

  He got to his feet, and the two of them made their way back to the office. He went straight to the room where he saw patients. He looked in the mirror. “It will take a couple of stitches.”

  “I can’t do that,” Marzina said.

  “I can.”

  Marzina watched, fascinated, as he used a strange-looking needle and, standing before the mirror, sewed up the cut without any sign of pain.

  “Doesn’t that hurt, York?”

  “No, I think he numbed it. I’ll put antiseptic on it. I’ll be all right.”

  Marzina was troubled. York snipped off the end of the gut he had used to close the wound and said, “Don’t let it bother you.”

  “The man was partly right, York. We are living together.”

  “Well, not in the way that usually happens.”

  Marzina shook her head, “I’ll have to leave. I can’t stay here. It doesn’t look right.”

  Suddenly York Wingate knew he must make a decision. Her presence, as it had for some time, stirred a desire in him he couldn’t ignore any longer. He had never loved his first wife as he thought a man should love a woman, although he had treated her well. But this woman was a treasure. He dreamed of her and didn’t want to lose her. He took her hands, which were long, slender, supple, and very strong.

  “You know every time I leave this house, Marzina, I want to come back—because you’re in it. I know it’s too soon, but I want to be a father to Ben and Rose, and I want you to be a mother to David and a wife to me. I love you, Marzina. Do you think you could ever learn to care for me?”

  She stood very still, and York saw a change go over her face. Warmth illuminated her eyes, and her features displayed eagerness. At that moment he overcame his loneliness. He drew her forward, and she didn’t resist but came into his embrace. He kissed her, and the richness and fullness of that experience unsettled him. When he lifted his head, her smile was soft and shining, and he comprehended her loyalty and capacity for love.

  “Would you marry me, Marzina?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly and laid her head on his shoulder. “I’ve never loved a man, but now I know I love you.”

  * * *

  TREMAYNE WAS WORKING ON the pulleys that would run his big saws. He had worked in a sawmill for only a short time, but he was quick to learn new skills by trial and error. He heard a horse approaching and looked up to see Gwilym Morgan.

  “Hello, Gwilym. What brings you out in this kind of weather?”

  “God sent me.”

  The answer came sharply, and the smile on Tremayne’s face disappeared.

  “Well,” he said slowly, “you come well recommended. Come inside. I’ve got a fire going.” The small cabin was exactly like the others on the homesteads. Tremayne said, “Will you eat something?”

  “No, I didn’t come for that. I’ve been praying, and the Lord has told me to come and give you His message.”

  “Well, let’s have it, Gwilym.”

  “Jesus is your only hope, my boy. You’ve led a hard life. You’ve tried the ways of the world, and they haven’t pleased you, have they?”

  “No, they haven’t. It was exciting being in the mountains— dangerous—but it didn’t satisfy me.”

  “Nothing is going to satisfy you except the Lord Jesus Christ.”

  Tremayne was silent as Gwilym quoted Scripture after Scripture. He saw the compassion in the older man’s face and knew this was not merely preaching that Gwilym felt was his duty.

  Finally Gwilym said, “I want you to stop running from God, Casey. You’ve run long enough. I know you care for my girl, but she’ll never have you unless you’re a Christian man. That’s not the reason for becoming a Christian, but it could be one of the good things that God has been waiting to give you.”

  “She’s a fine woman, Gwilym. I don’t deserve her.”

  “No, you don’t. Just like I didn’t deserve my wife, but God can make you deserving. Now let’s pray. Will you kneel with me here?”

  Awkwardly Casey Tremayne got on his knees beside the older man. He felt the strong arm of Gwilym go around his shoulders, and it warmed him. And then Gwilym Morgan prayed a prayer such as he had never heard. Intense, powerful, and compassionate, it was as if Gwilym Morgan had God by the hand and was begging Him for a great favor.

  “This man, Lord, needs You. He needs Jesus. He needs a life that’s different. I pray that You would bring him to a halt. That You will make the world tasteless so that he doesn’t care a pin for it, and I pray that he will see the Lord Jesus and learn to love Him as we all should, and it’s in Jesus’s name I pray.”

  When Casey got to his feet, he said quietly, “Thank you, Gwilym. I’ll not forget this.”

  “I’ll be praying, and others are praying too. Good-bye now.”

  * * *

  FOR THE NEXT TWO days Casey could do little work. He tried, but he would find himself thinking of Gwilym Morgan’s prayer. He had a Bible, and he read it almost without ceasing. He read through the Gospel of John three times, and each time he was drawn closer to the Christ portrayed there.

  In the middle of the night when he had stayed up late before the fire, reading about the miracles of Jesus, the things He did, Tremayne woke up suddenly, startled as he had been in the mountains when danger was near. But there was no danger here. He sat straight up in bed and at once knew what he had to do. He fell on his knees and prayed what he had wanted to pray for some time, “Oh, God, I’m nothing but a sinner. I’ve done everything wrong that a man could do, and I can’t save myself. But Jesus loves sinners, that’s what Your Book says. I don’t see how He could love me, but I feel drawn to Him, and I ask You to come into my heart, cleanse me from my sins, and make me a new man.”

  He prayed for a long time, and finally, as dawn was breaking, he felt a peace come into his spirit. He stood up, walked outside, and watched the da
wn. He knew his prayer in that cabin now determined his entire life, and he looked up and said, “God, I’m Your man. Whatever You’ll have me do, that’s what I’ll do!”

  * * *

  CHARITY STARED AT TREMAYNE who had come to the Morgan cabin and found her alone for a change. She knew her father had talked to him although Gwilym had said little about the conversation. It was something her father often did. But she saw something different in Tremayne.

  “What is it, Casey?”

  “I called on God last night, Charity. I’m going to follow Him from now on. I don’t know how to be a Christian, but your father will help me, and I’ll do the best I can to be a good servant to the Lord Jesus Christ.”

  Tears came to Charity’s eyes, and her voice was choked. “I’m so glad, Casey. So very glad.”

  “You’ll have to be ready for one thing. I love you, and after I’ve proven myself to you and to the community, I want you to be my wife.”

  Charity blinked the tears away and stared at him. Although he was strong and tall, there was nothing in him now except a new humility she had never seen before. But still she was cautious. “I’ll be watching you, Casey. Everybody will.”

  “I’m not going to be perfect, I don’t think.”

  “I’m not sure I love you as a woman loves a man she’ll spend her life with, but I’ll be praying that you will find yourself so dedicated to God that we’ll see where you go.”

  He leaned forward, kissed her on the cheek, and then left without another word. Her breast was stirred with shock and emotion, and she whispered, “Oh, God, don’t let me make a mistake!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  THE SMELL OF MEAT cooking and the aroma of fresh bread filled the small cabin of Gwilym Morgan. The room was crowded now, for the Morgans had invited Elsworth Charterhouse and Emily Russom to a meal with them, and Tremayne had been invited as well. Gwilym looked around the table, which was made simply of planks on sawhorses.

  “We’re glad to have these guests in our house. Now we will ask God’s blessing on the food.” He bowed his head and began to pray, and when he said, “Amen,” Meredith piped up.

  “That’s a long prayer, Pa.”

  “You mind your manners, girl,” Gwilym said. “My prayers are never too long. Just the right length.” He laughed. “All right. This is the meal the Lord has provided. Let’s show our appreciation by eating it.”

  Charity and Bronwen brought in the food and set it before the group. A great platter of smoking venison had been tenderized by soaking in salt water all day. Charity had also purchased a supply of potatoes at the general store, and of bread, there was plenty. She took her seat between Bronwen and Meredith.

  She kept her eyes on Tremayne who sat on the other side of Meredith and answered her questions between bites of food. She could sense the difference in the man, for before there had been tension and restlessness, whereas now there seemed to be peace in his expression. He had spent a great deal of time with her father, learning from him the fundamentals of the Christian faith.

  “Well now, Brother Tremayne, how does it feel to be a little lamb in God’s great flock?”

  Tremayne had placed a bite of the venison in his mouth. He chewed it for a moment and then swallowed. “It feels mighty good, Pastor, although I don’t know much about how to go about being a Christian man.”

  “Well, you’re learning fast,” Charterhouse spoke up. He was dressed in more formal attire than the other men. He glanced at Evan and said, “You were lucky, Evan, to have a Christian family to grow up in.”

  “That I was,” Evan said. “It must be hard to be as old as you and having to learn everything all over again.” His eyes sparkled as he teased Tremayne.

  “You know, I’ve been reading a sermon by a preacher called Spurgeon.”

  “Ah yes, Charles Spurgeon,” Emily spoke up quickly. “I’ve attended his church in London. He’s probably the best preacher in the world, I think. Certainly the most famous.”

  “What did the sermon say, Casey?” Charity asked.

  “Well, it was about prayer, and I found it very interesting. I never read the story he used. It’s in the book of Nehemiah.”

  “A wonderful man of prayer and faith, Nehemiah was,” Gwilym said. “What did Reverend Spurgeon say?”

  “Well, the chapter started out with Nehemiah praying for his people at home, and it says he prayed and fasted for a long time and confessed his sins. But then the king asked him one day, ‘What’s the matter with you?’ And Nehemiah told him he wasn’t sick, but he was sad because the home of his father was in ruins. And then the king—must have been a pretty good king—said, ‘What would you like me to do for you?’ And then right there in one line, it says, ‘So I prayed to the God of heaven,’ and then he asked the king to help him restore his city of Jerusalem. But the point Spurgeon made was that this prayer was so short—‘So I prayed to the God of heaven’—and Reverend Spurgeon went on to say that we ought to pray like that.”

  “I don’t understand you,” Evan said. “What’s different in that prayer?”

  “Well, Spurgeon said we need to pray immediate prayers. When something comes up, you pray right then. A quick prayer. Maybe only a few words. So that’s what I’ve been trying to do. It’s hard for a reprobate like me to remember to pray, but when I go work on the sawmill, I used to go straight at it, but now I say, ‘Lord, help me to get these pulleys in right.’ Or, when I get up in the morning, I say a little sentence prayer: ‘God, help me to be a good man for you this day.’”

  Charity listened intently as Tremayne spoke of how he had adopted Spurgeon’s method of praying on the spot. She was impressed.

  “I think that’s a wonderful habit for a person to form,” she said finally.

  “Well, I feel like I wasted a lot of time in my life so I need a quick trip to catch up. One thing that bothers me, though,” Tremayne said, “I keep remembering bad things that I did before I became a Christian. Some of them go all the way back when I was just a boy.”

  “Well, now. That’s of the devil,” Emily said firmly. “When you came into God’s family, He forgave you all those sins. They’re buried in the depths of the sea as far as the east is from the west.”

  Elsworth was listening carefully to her, and she smiled at him. “I guess you think I’ve become a preacher as well as a teacher.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Well, I’ll have to learn how to do things,” Tremayne said. They went on speaking for some time, and finally Elsworth laughed as Emily spoke of the way to serve God. “She’s a preacher as well as a schoolteacher. I need to be on my good behavior when I’m with her.”

  “Nonsense,” Emily snorted. “You need to be good in the dark when nobody’s looking except God. Never mind what I think.”

  Finally, in a slight break in the conversation, Meredith said, “The doctor and Miss Marzina are married now. How long will it be before they have babies?”

  Laughter went around the table, and Charity said in a flustered voice, “You can ask outlandish questions! It’ll take at least nine months.”

  “That’s a long time. When I get married, I’m going to have two boys. They’re going to be named Jonah and Gabriel, and I’m going to have two girls named Jemima and Bathsheba.”

  Tremayne laughed. “Well, good to make plans, and I see you’ve made plenty, Meredith. What about your husband? Have you got him picked out yet?”

  Meredith paused and tapped her chin thoughtfully with her forefinger. She said slowly, “Well, I like Earl Allen.”

  “How old is he?” Tremayne asked.

  “He’s thirteen, but he’s not good to his mother so I’m not going to marry him. If he’s not good to his own mother, he won’t be good to his wife.”

  “I think that’s good sound theology, Daughter,” Gwilym smiled. “Let that be a lesson to you men. Be good to your mothers.”

  The meal ended finally, and they sat before the fire, enjoying the warmth and the fellows
hip. Charterhouse and Emily left, and then Tremayne rose and said, “I’ve got to go too.” Charity rose with him and walked with him to the door. He pulled her outside suddenly, shut the door, and said, “The sawmill is almost finished.”

  “That’s good, Casey. You’ve done so well. You’ve worked very hard.”

  “The cabin’s finished, but it needs a woman in it, and I’m still waiting on you to make up your mind about me.”

  Charity couldn’t answer for a time. She could never remember when she had been so confused. She had a strong feeling for this man, more than for any man she had ever met, but she simply couldn’t make up her mind. That had not been an issue before he was saved, but now that he was a Christian, she still couldn’t decide.

  “I’ll have to have more time, Casey.”

  “Sure. You want to see if I’m going to hold out or just be a flash in the pan as a Christian.” He grinned. “I don’t blame you, but I want you to know that I’m ready when you are.” He leaned forward, took her in his arms, and kissed her soundly. He laughed at her expression then said, “That’s the way to say good night.” He mounted his horse and rode away into the darkness.

  She turned and went back into the cabin. She was silent, for the most part, while she and the girls were cleaning the kitchen, and when she went to bed in the loft with Meredith and Bronwen, she lay awake for a long time. She knew she was stirred as a woman by this man, but marriage was more than that. Oh, Lord, she prayed, help me to know Your will in this important matter. She went to sleep then, but it was a fitful sleep.

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING SUNDAY MORNING was the day before Christmas. Gwilym preached on the Child in the manger and what He meant. He also preached on the need for obedience to follow this Savior who had died to save the world. His voice rose as he spoke, “We are to obey the Lord, and He has given us specific commandments. The first thing He commands us to do after we have turned from our sins and enter the kingdom of God is to follow the Lord in baptism. I’ll not trust a man who’s a Christian who disobeys this first command. We may differ with some of our brothers on the mode of baptism, but there is no question at all that this is what the Lord intends for each of His young believers to do.”