Leave a Candle Burning, Page 3

  “Anything new?” Iris asked after a few minutes of quiet.

  “I think the Corgiat house is for sale.”

  “By the bank?”

  “It would seem. Did he have debt?”

  “I doubt it,” Iris answered but then gave a small grunt. “But then no one thought old man Zantow had debt either, and none of us will soon forget that debacle.”

  Finn huffed a little himself at the point. It was an incident from the past that had long been resolved, but memories in Tucker Mills could be longer.

  Both stopped talking when they heard Scottie on the stairs. They didn’t fear reprimand, but if she was coming downstairs already, she probably needed one of them.

  “Finn,” Scottie wasted no time in saying, “Eli can’t get into position to take a deep breath. Can you shift him around?”

  “I’ll go right up,” the man offered and left the table immediately.

  “Is he hurting?” Iris wished to know. “Does tea or broth sound good?”

  “He’s not hurting, but tea sounds nice. Thank you, Iris.”

  Scottie left her to it and returned to her husband’s side. She told herself it was wrong to worry or fear, but she was doing a lousy job listening.

  “Come in, Dannan,” Maddie invited the town’s doctor, not surprised to see him.

  “Thank you, Maddie. This basket is from Doyle,” Dannan said, offering the handle to his hostess. “Some things for Cathy,” he added.

  Maddie took the basket with a word of thanks and led Dannan to the parlor, where Cathy was sitting in the rocking chair. Valerie had fallen asleep and was in the cradle in the corner.

  “Dannan’s here,” Maddie announced quietly, seeing the thundercloud on her aunt’s face.

  “How are you, Mrs. Shephard?”

  “Tired of sitting!” Cathy all but snapped, but she softened when she saw Dannan’s smile. “It aches, but I’m keeping still.”

  “You’ll be glad of that,” Dannan gave his approval. “I saw Doyle this morning,” he continued conversationally, checking the splint and rewrapping it with a careful touch. “He seems to be faring well.”

  “Probably living off the cookie jar,” Cathy grumbled.

  “I think he said he had cake and pie for breakfast,” Dannan replied, catching Cathy by surprise. She laughed when she saw the glint in his eye.

  “Oh, go on with you,” she said, swatting at him with her good arm.

  Beyond telling her that all looked well and she was doing a good job, Dannan didn’t comment further.

  “Job?” Cathy was outraged over the word. “I’ve not done a thing!”

  “Right now, that’s your job,” Dannan continued calmly. As he was in the process of putting his hat back on, Maddie invited him for a cup of tea. Dannan accepted, and a short time later, the three sat around the table in the parlor, tea and freshly baked scones before them.

  “Do you cook for yourself, Dannan?” Cathy asked.

  “When Conner and Reese Kingsley aren’t taking me in, I do.”

  “Reese is a good cook,” Maddie complimented. “I have more than one recipe from her.”

  “She is a good cook, but then I would say that about most of the women whose homes I’ve visited in town.”

  “Spoken like a hungry man,” Cathy commented, and Dannan laughed.

  A small sound from the corner just then brought Maddie to her feet. Dannan hid a smile. It wouldn’t be too many more months before Maddie would allow Valerie to wake on her own, but like most new mothers, she was waiting for any excuse to hold her baby.

  Dannan decided not to linger. He didn’t have anything pressing, but a doctor on the outskirts of town—when he didn’t need to be—was no help to the townsfolk. Finishing his tea with a genuine compliment, Dannan took his leave.

  Conner sat at the desk chair at the bank, his eyes gazing out the window but not really seeing anything. Troy watched him and waited. Eventually Conner looked at his partner.

  “What’s going on?” Troy asked.

  “Just thinking,” Conner said, his voice as quiet as ever.

  “About?”

  Conner hesitated. Troy waited.

  “Reese.”

  “What about her?”

  “Do you think a woman can be that hale and hardy and still die in childbirth?”

  Troy sighed. It was an easy question to ask at this point, but the answers were tougher.

  “I think any woman can die in childbirth,” Troy said honestly. “But I can’t but wonder whether being as healthy as Reese would help. You might want to ask Dannan what he thinks.”

  “I might do that.”

  “This is where trust comes in, Conner.”

  “You’re certainly right about that,” the younger man agreed before putting his mind back on banking.

  “I can’t believe you’re still here!” Cathy exclaimed when she rolled over in bed Sunday morning and found Doyle beside her. He had obviously been awake and was lying on his side facing her.

  “Where would I be?”

  “I thought you’d be gone with Jace and Maddie to the meetinghouse this morning.”

  “And leave you on your own?” Doyle asked quietly.

  Cathy was not quiet at all. “Well, it’s not as if I’m an invalid, Doyle Shephard! What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking about my wife having needs, and me being all the way in town when I don’t have to be!” he answered a bit hotly himself. “Why would that surprise you?”

  Cathy didn’t answer but stared at him.

  “Cathy,” he started over, calm again. “I can miss a Sunday gathering for you and still believe in who God is and what He expects from me.”

  Cathy looked almost startled and then humbled.

  “I shouldn’t have flown at you. I was just surprised.”

  “And I shouldn’t choose so many things over you that it would surprise you.”

  “You don’t do that,” Cathy argued.

  “I must to some degree, or we wouldn’t be having words over it. I’ve even been rethinking the hours I keep at the store.”

  Cathy looked thoughtful but didn’t speak.

  “How’s your arm?” Doyle asked.

  “It aches,” she said simply, and Doyle, just as simply, slipped an arm around her and brought her head to his shoulder. They lay together in the quiet house for a long time. Not until Doyle’s stomach rumbled did either one feel a need to move.

  “Do you realize we’re in a battle?” Douglas asked. It was the same opening question he had asked of his flock the last four Sundays. He watched some of them smile.

  “Are you weary of this topic?” he asked next. “I know I can get tired of it, but then that reminds me of what a weak soldier I’m prone to be, and I can’t afford weakness. Because as soon as I let my guard down, sin—which we read about last week—is already crouching at the door waiting for me. It then has an opportunity to come in. I’ve got to keep fighting because I’m too vulnerable to attack.

  “Let’s turn to some more passages,” Douglas said as he opened his Bible. “I want us to start in Romans 7:23. I’ve asked Nate Peternell to read that verse this morning.”

  Nate stood and read, “ ‘But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members.’ ”

  “Thank you, Nate,” Douglas said when that man sat down. “Please do not let your mind pass swiftly over the word warring. This is important. This is urgent. It needs our attention. We also need to pay attention to the use of the word captivity. I like that word in this verse. It reminds me of the war we’re fighting. Let’s move on.”

  Troy was the next man to read. His verses were from 2 Corinthians 10. He also stood to read: “ ‘For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh: For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strongholds; casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowle
dge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ.’ ”

  “Thank you, Troy,” Douglas commented and then wasted no time getting to his point. “Did you hear the war that is being described here? It has nothing to do with our physical bodies. It can’t be fought with knives or rifles. It’s spiritual warfare. And did you catch the use of the word captivity again? We are at war for the daily salvation of our souls. I’m not talking about that once-and-for-all step we take when we trust in Christ’s blood for eternal salvation, but I am referring to that salvation we need each and every day if we’re going to serve God with all our hearts; that salvation we need if we’re going to keep our thoughts on obedience and not let our hearts be distracted by things that go against the knowledge of God.

  “But even as I say these things, I want you also to know that the battle is already won. We’re still here fighting, but Satan has been defeated. We still have battles because our natural man is fleshly and wants his way and will until the day God calls us home, but in reality, God has triumphed over Satan, and we need to trust Him in that.

  “When temptation makes an appearance, we can resist because God promises us that strength. We can believe Him when He says that sin won’t overpower us because He does not give Satan that kind of control.

  “Let’s look at one last verse that tells us that very thing. Turn to John 17:15 and listen while I read the words of Christ, ‘I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil.’ The evil at the end of that verse is Satan—the evil one or the son of perdition as he is called back in verse 12. We are at war with a foe whom God has already beaten. And we don’t have to yield when Satan tempts us.”

  Douglas stopped for a moment and looked at them, knowing he’d given out a lot of information in one morning. He loved each person in the room and ached to have them all walk well with their heavenly Father.

  “Please come see me if you’ve not understood something,” Douglas felt he had to say, “or if I’ve overwhelmed you. It’s my heart’s desire that you understand and believe this, and I hope you won’t hesitate to come if there’s a need.”

  Wondering all the time if he had been clear, Douglas closed with a song. He didn’t pray at the front of the room, but his heart begged God to use him in a way that would aid each person.

  The service ended, and little by little the congregation dispersed. Dannan had not been looking for the small, redheaded woman, but she suddenly walked past him toward the door. He wanted to have eye contact with her but didn’t know her name, and he knew it would be awkward if he followed her. She was moving along, bidding folks goodbye but not stopping to talk. Dannan watched her all the way out the door, going so far as to study the window until she went by.

  It was a relief to have Conner appear and invite him to dinner. Otherwise he might have stood for way too long thinking about that woman and wondering who she was.

  Dannan was not the only guest invited to the Kingsley house for Sunday dinner. The four Muldoons still in town were there, as were the Weber family and Judson Best.

  “So tell us, Dannan,” Conner invited during the meal, “what do you hear from Doc MacKay?”

  “I just had a letter from my father, and Uncle Jonas is enjoying the area immensely. The house is roomy enough for each to have his own bit of space, and I guess they’re rubbing along together quite nicely.”

  “Will your folks visit you here, Dannan?” Alison wished to know.

  “My mother’s health doesn’t allow her to travel, and my father hates to leave her, so probably not.”

  “Will you go for a visit later in the year?”

  “I don’t know when I’ll be going that far south. I’ll probably visit my cousin in Willows Crossing before the summer’s over.”

  “Has your mother been ill long?” Douglas asked.

  “About five years. She fell while hiking with my father and injured her back. Sitting for long periods is excruciating.”

  Most of the heads at the table nodded with understanding, but no one commented. It was certainly easy to see why his mother could not travel. She would have been miserable.

  “She’s an amazing woman,” Dannan felt a need to add, looking at the compassion on Hillary Muldoon’s face. “She doesn’t spend a moment pitying herself, and because we write to each other almost weekly, I never feel out of touch.”

  Conversation drifted to Judson, a young man, fairly new in town, who was working part-time with Jace on the farm and part-time for Will Barland, who grew a broomcorn crop. That business was expanding to the point that Judson was helping Will ship brooms across New England.

  Judson’s charming way of describing his job had everyone laughing in very short order. Indeed, they were still enjoying his humorous anecdotes when Troy rose from the group to answer the knock on the front door.

  Three

  “Do not tell me you’ve put dinner on,” Maddie said to her aunt when they arrived back at the farm and caught the aromas wafting from the parlor as soon as they stepped into the kitchen.

  Doyle suddenly appeared in the parlor doorway, a large smile on his face.

  “She didn’t lift a finger, but she certainly enjoyed telling me what to do.”

  Maddie laughed when Cathy looked as pleased as Doyle.

  “Come on,” Cathy urged. “Wash up and we’ll eat.”

  Maddie and Jace were not going to argue with that order. Valerie was settled in the corner, and the four adults sat down to the meal. Maddie noticed in a hurry that Doyle was swift to cut meat and butter rolls for Cathy. For a moment the younger woman couldn’t remember if he had been that solicitous the night before and then wondered if something might have happened between them that morning.

  “How was the sermon?” Doyle asked when all plates were served.

  “Excellent,” Jace was swift to say. “Douglas is still talking about the war with sin.”

  “Is that normal?” Cathy asked, and the other three diners looked at her.

  “Is what normal?” her husband asked.

  “Staying with a subject for so many weeks. At the Commons Meetinghouse, the Reverend Mr. Sullins didn’t keep to a topic for more than one week. Does the Bible say pastors should do that?”

  “In a way it does,” Jace said as he fielded this one. “When Scripture stresses something, we’ve got to pay attention to that.”

  “How do you know when something is stressed?” Doyle asked.

  “Sometimes by how often the topic is addressed. Sin’s warring against us is one example of a subject Scripture covers very thoroughly.”

  “But it’s been several weeks,” Cathy said. “Did he have more verses today?”

  “Yes,” Maddie answered, “and Jace talked to Douglas afterward. It seems he has more sermons planned on the topic.”

  Cathy looked surprised but not put off. Indeed, she looked intrigued, as if she might be interested to see how far Douglas Muldoon could take this.

  Doyle asked more specific questions as the meal went on, and Jace and Maddie told him all they could remember. At one point, Jace brought his Bible to the table and read some of the verses to them.

  It was the beginning of a great afternoon.

  Scottie was downstairs after lunch. She had eaten with Eli, as she always did, but he wanted to nap soon after the meal ended, and she had moved downstairs and picked up her sewing. Iris had Sundays off, but Finn was always in attendance. He found her in the parlor not long after she’d settled in.

  “He’s having trouble breathing,” Finn informed her quietly, his face serious.

  “Is it his position? Can he get comfortable?”

  “I’ve shifted him many times, and it’s not working.”

  “Find the doctor,” Scottie ordered, wasting no time. “Find Doc MacKay’s nephew—I can’t remember his name.”

  “I’ll find him,” Finn promised and exited out the front door.

  Scottie went directly to her husba
nd’s room. He didn’t look very distressed, and Scottie stared at him, a bit confused.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” he said in soft surprise because it was true. “I wasn’t, but things seemed to have suddenly cleared.” Eli cleared his throat and shifted his shoulders a bit.

  “I sent Finn for the doctor,” Scottie admitted, her voice apologetic.

  “Well, it’s too bad to disturb him on a Sunday, but it will be nice to meet him.” Eli’s voice told of his calm.

  Scottie smiled at him. It was just his way to comfort and take care of her, even making light of the way he felt. She could tell he was not completely comfortable when he continued to clear his throat.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I was struggling for a bit, but it really is better. I was serious about that.”

  Reaching for his hand, Scottie sat on the edge of the bed and studied his eyes. Sometimes he said things to make her feel better—she was sure he did—but a moment’s study of his dark brown eyes told her that his claim to feeling better was every bit the truth.

  Finding Dannan took some doing. Finn began his search at the doctor’s house, and when his knocking produced no response, he started down the green—the town center—remembering that it was Sunday. The Muldoons’ house was the next stop, but again, he found that home empty. Finn knew it would not be wise to run around without a plan—Tucker Mills was too large for that—but for a moment he was at a loss. Not until he spotted an extra carriage at the big house did he think the banker might have a suggestion for him.

  He was at the large front door a few minutes later and was relieved to see Troy answer the door. He knew him from the bank.

  “Well, Finn,” Troy greeted him. “Come on in.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Thaden.” Finn stepped just inside and saw Conner come into the hall. He nodded in that direction but wasted no time. “I need to find the doctor. Would you have any idea where he might be?”