A Heart Made for Love Page 2

  Doc swept a lock of dark hair away from Mae’s face. “Mae, the girl will be all right if she can accept that while she will never be the same, she can be stronger, and let this event show her how to gauge other men in the future. She can accept that life is not always perfect, but it can be rewarding for those who learn to move past the times that are painful, and not let them taint their outlook. The girl will be okay, Mae, because she has folks who love her, because she has so much to bring to this life she is making, and because the future holds great things for her. She wants those things, doesn’t she, Mae?”

  Mae withdrew her hand from Doc’s. She pulled the quilt more tightly around her shoulders and looked at him for a while. “I’m alive. I hurt, but I don’t think anything is broken. The bleeding seems to have stopped.” She reddened somewhat at this confession. “I do wish Mama was here, but Papa means well and will do what he can to help me.”

  The tremor had left her voice when she answered, “Yes, sir, I think the girl will be okay. In time.”

  Chapter Two

  Garth was sitting on the porch with Samuel when Doc came outside. Cyrus, tired of waiting, had gone to the creek to catch crawfish. Papa looked older and very tired, and to see him this way made Samuel’s insides seethe; it was like a murder waiting to happen. Doc set his bag down and dropped onto Mama’s favorite bench.

  “Well,” he sighed, “she is going to be all right. I gave her a sedative to help her sleep through the night. I left a small jar of powder on the chest of drawers. If she has pain tomorrow, you can give her a half-teaspoon in a glass of water twice a day. It will be a while until she heals. We’ll have to wait until next month to know if there will be any lasting effects.”

  Samuel heard his papa’s suddenly indrawn breath and realized the real consequences of this assault. The two men fell quiet, and Samuel guessed they thought he was too young to understand what effect this could all have on Mae’s life.

  Samuel was known to have a temper. His mother had worked hard at helping him learn to control his impulsive side, but she had been gone almost five years now. Try as he might, sometimes his quick temper got the better of him. If Mae could have put names to these men, Samuel would be stalking them right now. Heck, he was grown enough to understand what had happened here today, but just the bruises on Mae alone were enough to tell him somebody needed a whippin’, or worse.

  He would be tall one day. He was already two inches taller than Mae. Being a tad younger didn’t mean he couldn’t hold a deep sense of responsibility to his family. He worked hard at the mill with Papa, and at fifteen years he was already as strong as most of the men. He no longer thought of himself as a boy. The good Lord knew his temper was that of a grown man. Mama had schooled all her children in responsibility, dedication to family, and love of the Lord. Sometimes Samuel’s mind would stray during the Bible reading, but he would always remember her saying that family was everything; you needed to support each other in all things. Losing Mama at an early age had only strengthened her lessons for Samuel.

  At times, when no one was around, he would sit by the family Bible, and if he listened real hard, he could almost hear her sweet voice reading her favorite passages. Mama would understand how he felt right now, how the sound of Mae’s cries seared his heart. She would know how much he wanted to make someone pay for Mae’s bruises. Mama would have helped Samuel reckon with his anger, would have calmed him down, but Mama was gone.

  ****

  Garth sliced some ham from the smokehouse and paired it with beans to feed the boys. The boys cleaned the kitchen and brought out the books for the evening lessons. Garth would have let the lessons pass, but none of them were ready for sleep yet. After an hour of having to reread pages and refigure calculations, Garth gave it up.

  “All right, boys, that’s enough for tonight. Let’s try to get some sleep,” he said as he banked the coals in the cast iron stove. Ruth had insisted that the children be as well educated as possible. She’d saved all her schoolbooks and borrowed from Doc Walters’ collection to keep her up to date. He placed tonight’s efforts back in the chest reserved for schoolwork and stepped outside for some fresh air.

  Garth sat on the porch for a while, talking to his Ruth in his mind, before finally going inside to stretch out on the bed. He was just beginning to drift away when a bloodcurdling scream startled him awake. Mae! It was Mae! He grabbed the rifle on his way to her room, where he found her sitting upright, her hands clasping her throat. Her eyes were like saucers, and she kept screaming, “It’s gone! It’s gone!”

  He was afraid to touch her, as she was all but covered in blue or purple bruises, but he gently tried to pry her hands away from her poor throat. “Mae, it’s Papa. Honey, look at me. Mae, stop screaming, girl. Papa’s here, and you’re okay. Baby, you’re scaring Cyrus.”

  True enough, both boys were standing at the foot of her bed, eyes wide.

  As her father’s voice finally got through to her, she focused her eyes on his face and began to weep, her chest heaving. Garth sat on her bedside and folded her gently into his arms as he tried to think of something soothing to say.

  “Mae, honey, what’s gone? Whatever it is, me and the boys will find it for you.”

  She raised swollen eyes to his face. “Mama’s locket! It’s gone. I never took it off, Papa. From the day you gave it to me, I’ve never taken it off, and it’s gone. They must have it.”

  Garth and Samuel exchanged a look of horror. That locket had meant so much to Mae. Garth had always thought of it as the cord that tied them all to their memories of Ruth.

  Cyrus, on the other hand, was just curious. “Who, Mae? Who has the locket?”

  Samuel punched him in the arm, and Cyrus squealed, “What’d you do that for?”

  Mae looked at the boys. “Oh, boys, you’re in your nightshirts! I’m so sorry to cause a ruckus in the middle of the night.” She slid back down in her bed, pulled the covers over her head, and continued to cry.

  Garth stood. “Back to bed, boys. We gotta be up early in the morning.”

  Samuel took Cyrus by the shoulder and turned him toward the door

  Garth sat back down. He slowly pulled the covers down from Mae’s face. “Honey, that locket meant almost as much to me as it did to you. I’ve spent the last few hours grateful to the good Lord that I still have you. I can learn to live without the sight of that locket, but I’m not sure I could have gone on if someone had taken you from me. You are the dearest reminder I have of your mother.” His voice broke, and he paused before continuing. “You have her looks and her loving ways, and her memory is still alive for the boys through you.” Garth softly wiped her tear-streaked face. “Honey, I promise you, we’ll get through this, just like we’ve handled every trial that’s come our way. We will be strong in our faith, we will work and live, and in a while we will smile and laugh again.” The sedative was working again and Mae was dozing off, even as he tucked the covers in under her chin.

  Garth walked to the barn, plunked down on a bale of hay, and dropped his head into his hands. Unable to hold in his sorrow any longer, he cried, a deep feeling of helplessness washing over him.

  ****

  The locket was gone. Garth could still see the joy on Ruth’s face when she first held that locket in her slender fingers. It was not the conventional gold heart-shaped thing most women would call a locket. No, it was truly an original work of art.

  Garth had gone on a business trip to Virginia to bring back a small steam engine for the sawmill. When he arrived at the docks in Richmond, he went straight to the offices of Harris and Bolton, the shipping company that had brought his engine down from New York.

  When Fred Harris saw Garth, he grinned, with a hint of mischief. Garth wondered why he had such a “this is going to be fun” look on his face, but being a patient man he figured he’d find out soon enough.

  “Mr. Hinton, it’s good to see you,” Fred welcomed. “I have your new engine right here in the back storage room. Follow me.”


  At the rear of the warehouse, a wooden crate sat against the wall. Next to the crate was a small, wizened Chinaman. His legs were crossed, and he appeared to be asleep. When they stopped, the little man raised his head and looked up at Garth.

  “You new boss-man?” he asked softly. Confused, Garth looked at Fred Harris, who was grinning like an idiot.

  Fred explained, “He says his name is Hansu. He came with the crate. Came all the way from New York. Said he was the only one who could make the engine sing.” Fred grinned again.

  Garth looked down at the little man. He looked to be somewhere between seventy and long dead. Hansu smiled at Garth. “I goin’ work hard for you. You not have problem with engine. It always sing for me.”

  “Do you have a family, sir?”

  The old man smiled and said softly, “I have family now with you.”

  Garth looked at Fred, who shrugged his shoulders. “We tried to run him off three times, but he just kept coming back. We couldn’t figure out how he kept getting into the warehouse, but every morning we would find him asleep on the floor beside the crate. Said he was waiting for his new master. We reckoned that must be you.”

  Garth gave up trying to reason with Hansu. He finally told him to climb up on the wagon so they could start the trip back to Trenton, Florida. During the long trip, Garth watched Hansu meticulously carve a piece of ivory. It appeared to be a small box with intricate designs.

  Two days before they got home, Hansu said to Garth, “Your wife will be happy with this gift, yes?”

  Garth, taken aback, answered, “Well, yes, I guess so.”

  Hansu smiled. “She is curious woman, yes?”

  “Oh, yes, but how did you know?”

  Hansu just smiled. He held up the little box, used a finger to stroke a petal on one flower, and the little box opened to show a hidden recess.

  Garth laughed out loud. “Oh, yes,” he proclaimed, “she will love the box!”

  Ruth had indeed loved the box. She’d worn it hanging from a rawhide cord. In the box, she’d placed a small curl from the head of each of her children. When Ruth died, Garth had removed the treasured box from around her neck.

  On Mae’s thirteenth birthday, Hansu had given Garth a yard of beautifully painted silk to present to Mae. Garth had wrapped the little box in the silk and given it to her. Like Ruth, Mae would have worn it until her death, but now it was gone.

  Chapter Three

  Mae stood at the edge of the porch, watching the fox squirrels jump from tree to tree. The morning air was still cool and filled with the sound of singing birds. It was springtime again. She was glad. Mama’s roses would be blooming soon. She always felt closer to Mama when she could fill the house with their fragrance.

  She looked across the yard and was moved by the sight of Samuel cutting firewood. She was going to have to speak to Papa. It was time to free the boys from watching over her. She’d been physically healed almost a year now. She seldom woke with cold sweats at night. Her woman parts had healed, with her menses settling in to a regular pattern again. Thankfully this had occurred within a couple of months of “the event,” as she called it in her mind. Still, Papa had insisted one of the boys always be near.

  At first she’d been glad to have one of them hover around. She hadn’t been able to lift more than a ten-pound bag of flour for a couple of weeks. Thanks to Papa and the good Lord, there was now a pitcher pump in the kitchen. There was no reason now for the boys to miss work at the mill. Papa needed them more than she did. Besides, she had the pistol Doc had brought her. She had gotten so good with it the boys were calling her Sergeant Mae. She’d sewn a hidden pocket in each of her skirts and dresses, and Doc’s little beauty had become her constant companion.

  Yes, it was time to talk to Papa. She’d turned eighteen a few weeks ago; she had now pulled all the schooling she could give herself from Mama’s books. It was time for her to find a school she could attend. Mae had given much thought to her future, over the last year, and finally determined what she wanted to do with the life the Lord had allowed her to keep. How to make it happen was another story, but a good education was the first step.

  ****

  Garth could feel his stomach drop as he listened to Mae. He had always known this day would come, but he was not ready for it. Not yet. He sat on the porch, looking at his remarkable daughter in wonder.

  “Now, Papa, I won’t be that far away. Tallahassee is where I need to be if I’m goin’ to get the education I need to build a home for young women. You know as well as I do it was only by the grace of God I didn’t find myself in a much worse condition than just bruised and a little scared. All right,” she said as her Papa raised his eyebrows, “a whole lot of scared, but you know I’m right.”

  Garth tried again. “Mae, it’s not just the going so far away. It’s the whole idea of you someday dealing with the kind of women who might find themselves in such a position.”

  She gazed at him in amazement. “Papa, I do go to town once in a while, and I do have eyes. I may not spend a lot of time with other people, but I know enough to be sure there are a lot of women who had little or nothing to do with how they arrived in the place in life they find themselves. Women, Papa, who were not fortunate enough to have families who loved them, like me, to give the help they needed. Didn’t Jesus forgive Mary Magdalene?”

  “All right, young lady, there’s no call to beat me with your Mama’s Bible,” he answered with a weak smile. “So tell me all the plans you and Doc Walters have cooked up behind my back.”

  Mae had the grace to blush. “It wasn’t so much behind your back, Papa, as it was trying to spare you all the little details. I wrote up all the negatives, like who would care for you and the boys. You know, like keep you fed, and the house reasonably clean, and your clothes washed and cared for. Well, Irene Peters is a very nice lady, Papa. She was never able to have children, and Mr. Peters passed on from a heart attack last year. Doc says she is alone, with no family, and could use a little financial help. She would be happy to ride over in the mornings, take care of the house cleaning and laundry, and do lunch and supper for you and the boys. She’s a much better cook than me. I’ve tasted her pies at church suppers, and I can tell you Samuel will love her straight away.

  “She was tickled to death when I told her about the hand pump you put in the washhouse for Mama. The idea of being able to pump water straight into the washtub or bathtub seemed like a dream come true to her. She said she’d heard you spoiled Mama something fierce, what with always bringing in the newfangled conveniences from up north. But she did say she would be doing all your clothing repairs by hand.” Mae laughed. “The ladies from church told her you bought Mama one of those foot-pedaled sewing machines, too, but she was very clear she would be afraid of it.”

  Garth’s eyes clouded a little at that remark. Ruth had never asked for a thing. She had always been content with whatever she had to hand. The sawmill had been bringing in good money by the second year, and Garth had always wanted Ruth to have the best he could give her. Oh, she’d always insisted the Lord’s share came right off the top of any profits. Then came the savings to set aside for those times when things might slow down at the mill. If there was a little left over, then she might allow Garth to spoil her, like when he built the washhouse and installed the hand pump. Folks talked about places in New York and Philadelphia that had indoor toilet facilities, but Ruth was adamant about having no odors in her house. She said outdoor privies had to be cleaner than indoor ones. She had loved the sewing machine, though she had still taught Mae to quilt by hand. Garth missed being able to spoil Ruth. Seeing her fascination with new things had always warmed his heart.

  “Mae, I’m sure Mrs. Peters is a wonderful, competent woman, but the boys and I are not exactly helpless. That doesn’t tell me what you and Doc have planned for you. Just what makes you think I would agree to you going off to Tallahassee without being darn sure you’d be well taken care of, not to mention safe?” Garth�
��s fears were there in his voice.

  Mae was almost moved to tears at the sound of it. Her papa had been through so much, from losing a daughter and his beloved wife to having his remaining daughter abused so ruthlessly by strangers. It was a miracle he would allow any of his children out of his sight.

  “All right, Papa. I have spent just as much effort on making sure I’m well cared for as I did for you and the boys,” Mae answered. “I knew good and well you would not agree to this if there was the slightest doubt about my wellbeing, but I think you’ll have to concede all will be fine. Doc Walters’ sister, Mrs. Finch, is a very kind woman to even consider taking me on as a project. Her husband is a lawyer in Tallahassee. They had three children, but they lost both their daughters to yellow fever in 1880. Their son, the youngest, was spared. He was so affected by his sisters’ deaths that he was determined to become a doctor. He’s in England now, learning from a man Doc Walters worked with years ago. That leaves Mrs. Finch with an almost empty house. Doc has spoken with her about my coming to stay, and she is very excited. She assured Doc that if the local schools didn’t provide me with what she considered a good education, she would personally set out to find me the best tutors.” Mae paused, as she could see the wheels turning in Papa’s head.

  When she spoke again, it was to tackle the question of money. “Now, Papa, I’m not expecting you to pay for all this yourself. I will only agree to all this if I can find a job. I have a very legible hand and could do well as some sort of companion for a suitable lady. I can also work the fancy sewing machine you gave Mama, and I learned to make good use of those new paper patterns in the ladies’ journals. So I will be providing a good portion of the monies I will need.”

  Garth could feel a large lump growing in his throat and a burning in his eyes. He looked at Mae in wonder again. When did this happen? When did my little dark-haired elf become a self-assured young woman who is now ready to step away from her family?