The Pilgrim Song, page 25
Lewis could not help grinning at Missouri’s expression. If it were not for her insistence that he was destined by heaven to be her husband, he would have found her very good company indeed. Even though she was not educated, she had a quick mind and a witty streak in her. He had the feeling also that if she were properly dressed, she would be an attractive woman, but it was hard to tell since she usually clomped around in men’s brogans and a pair of overalls. He bowed his head and asked the blessing, and as soon as he was finished, Missouri picked up the largest plate and took the dishcloth off of it. He looked down at the contents and said, “What is it?”
“Just eat up. You’ll like it.”
Everyone watched as Lewis spooned a very small portion of the main dish out and passed it on. When it got to Hannah, she took her share and stared at it, not sure what to make of it. Everyone else took a small portion, and Missouri insisted that once they’d tasted it, they’d be begging for more, but she wouldn’t tell them what it was. Then they all loaded up their plates with what Missouri called “way out there grits.” She would not explain why she called it that, but with butter and a little pepper it was delicious.
After eating the mystery dish, Lewis said grudgingly, “Well, that was good, Missouri. What was it?”
“Why, that was my specialty. Pig-tail casserole.”
Lewis gulped and glanced around the table. “That was pig tails?”
“Oh yeah,” Missouri said with a satisfied look on her face. “Nothin’ better than pig tails if they’re cooked right.”
Josh burst out laughing. “Those were the best pig tails I ever ate in my life, Ma. How do you cook ’em?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out, son. Now, let’s get on with it. I fixed some fried chicken with cream gravy too.”
This dish proved to be more to everyone’s liking, and after the main meal was consumed, Missouri brought a cake to the table. “I hope everybody likes this. It’s my dessert specialty.”
“What do you call it?”
“Pleasing Pappy Cake.”
Kat had never heard of such a funny name for a cake. “Why do you call it that?”
“Because it’s so good it pleases Pappy. Here, Lewis, you get the first slice.”
Lewis took a piece of the cake, which was, indeed, light and fluffy and had a delicious icing. “Why, this is very good, Missouri! Maybe the best I’ve ever eaten. What’s in the icing?”
“Oh, just some powdered sugar, butter, and a little dab of vanilla and a few glugs of milk.”
“I love the way you give the exact measurements.” Lewis grinned and winked across the table at Hannah, taking another large bite of cake and sipping his coffee.
“Somebody coming,” Kat said, getting up and running to the door. “It’s the preacher.”
“Brother Crutchfield?” Lewis got up and joined her at the door, greeting the minister as he approached. “Just a bit late for supper, Brother Crutchfield, but there’s plenty left. Come in.”
Crutchfield stepped in, taking off his hat. He usually wore a pleased expression, but all of them could see clearly that tonight something was wrong.
The minister looked about and said, “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Miss Jenny, could I see you privately a moment?”
Jenny rose at once from the table. “Why, certainly. We can just step outside.”
“That would be fine. Pardon me, folks. We won’t be long.”
Puzzled, Jenny stepped outside and the two moved away from the house. She could not imagine what had happened. “Are the children all right?”
“Oh yes, they’re fine. I left them with Mrs. Simmons.”
“I thought they might be ill.”
“No, nothing like that.”
Jenny studied the man’s face and saw that he was having difficulty speaking. “What is it, Devoe?” she asked, unconsciously using his first name. She often thought of him like that, but in public she always referred to him as Brother Crutchfield.
“I’ve got some bad news. There was a meeting of the church, and they’ve terminated me.”
“Terminated you! What does that mean?”
Devoe shrugged his shoulders and a wry expression turned his mouth. “It means they fired me.”
Instantly Jenny felt anger stirring within her. “Because of me?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way. They’re just some pretty narrow-minded people.”
“Don’t go,” Jenny said. “You must stay.”
“You don’t understand how Baptist churches work, Jenny. Everything is decided by a vote, and the youngest member, even Kat, would have the same vote as the chairman of the board of deacons.”
“When did this meeting take place?”
“It was a specially called meeting last night.”
“Well, we’re members of the church, and I didn’t get a vote.”
“I guess . . . there wasn’t time to get to everybody.”
Jenny’s temper flared. “Why, it’s terrible! Don’t you see what’s happened? Those deacons got everybody together who they knew would vote against you and didn’t tell anyone else. It’s like a crooked political thing.”
“Don’t say that, Jenny.” Devoe put his hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “They’re good people, most of them, but—”
“I don’t think they’re so good. Come on, we’ll have to tell my family what’s happened.”
“I’ll just go on—”
“You won’t go anywhere. Come in the house.”
Startled by her aggressive behavior, Devoe followed Jenny into the house, where she announced angrily, “Those deacons have fired Brother Crutchfield, and I think it’s awful!”
Lewis slammed the table with his fist. “Why, this is an insult to my daughter! They’re hinting that something was going on between you two.”
Devoe could not defend the action that had been taken, although he tried feebly. “I don’t think most people feel like that, Mr. Winslow.”
“Most people, my foot! They came sneaking around and called a meeting and got rid of you because they knew they couldn’t do it any other way!” Lewis exclaimed.
Suddenly Missouri Ann lifted her hand and cried out loudly, “Hallelujah, praise God! To God be the glory forever.”
Lewis, startled by her outburst, turned to stare at Missouri, who had risen to her feet and was walking around with her hand in the air. “Missouri, this seems like an odd time to be praising God.”
Missouri’s eyes were sparkling, and a pleased expression filled her face. “Why, it’s what I’ve been prayin’ for.”
Crutchfield blurted, “You’ve been praying for me to be fired?”
“No, preacher, I’ve been prayin’ for a church where God’s Spirit is free, and as soon as I heard what had happened, the Lord spoke to me.” She moved over to stand eye to eye with the preacher, who looked almost frail beside Missouri’s sturdy form. She took his hands in hers. “We’re gonna have a church where God’s Spirit is free—and you’re gonna be the preacher.”
“What are you talking about, Missouri?”
“I’m talkin’ about we’re gonna have a church where the Spirit of God will have free course. You do the preachin’, and I’ll do the prayin’ and the exhortin’. God’s told me that He wants people in a church that won’t go to a fancy one. He wants a church where the Lord Jesus Christ is uplifted and nothin’ else, and where it don’t matter what people wear or how much money they got. He wants a church where people will believe Him, and when they need a miracle, they’ll know who to call on.”
Everyone in the room was dumbfounded by Missouri’s proclamation. She dropped Devoe’s hand and moved around the room speaking in a voice that carried far beyond the dining room, giving vent to her innermost feelings with such joy that they could only stare at her. Ever the cynic, Josh muttered that Missouri’s voice was loud enough to make one’s hair fall out.
Finally Devoe said, “Wait a minute, Missouri. I’ve always wanted a church like that, but there’s not one around here. There’s no building.”
Clint, who had been listening to all of this with astonishment, spoke up, surprising even himself. “Sure there is. There’s the Pattersons’ big barn standing empty. It could be made into a church.”
Clarence Patterson was a well-to-do farmer. The previous year his house had burned down but the big barn was left standing. Patterson had moved to another farm he owned, but the barn was still standing empty.
“Why, shore,” Missouri agreed. “Clarence is a good man. He’d probably even join the church. I bet he’d be glad to let us have that barn of his.”
Devoe wasn’t convinced. “But I don’t have a place to live. I don’t have anything to live on.”
“Where’s your faith, brother?” Missouri cried. “God feeds the sparrows. He can sure feed a skinny preacher and two ornery kids.”
“You do have a place to live,” Lewis said suddenly. He had not intended to speak up, but something about the situation had touched him. He had liked the man from the moment he had met him, feeling a compassion for him—a lone man with two children to raise. Now he said, “We’ve got this big old barn of a house, preacher. I reckon the garden’s big enough to feed the three of you. So look on this as your home.”
“That’s generous of you, Lewis, but—” He could not speak for a moment; then he looked at Missouri Ann. “I . . . I’ll have to pray about it, Missouri.”
“That’s fine,” Missouri cried out. “You start prayin’, and while you’re doin’ that, the rest of us will get to work.” She turned with purpose to Clint. “Clint, you and Josh go to the sawmill first thing tomorrow morning. Get some planks for pews. We’ll need wood for a pulpit too, and I’ll tell you what. I want a big mourners’ bench ’cause we’re gonna have lots of mourners.” She turned to the others and said, “The rest of us are gonna get the word out. There’s gonna be church in the barn on Sunday.”
“But I haven’t prayed yet,” Crutchfield protested.
Missouri let out a loud whoop. “Praise God! Glory be to God and the Lamb forever. By the time you get all prayed up and you find out that what we’re tellin’ you is God’s will, you’ll have a church, Preacher!”
****
When word got out that Devoe Crutchfield had been fired from the First Baptist Church of Summerdale, he was besieged by half of the membership, who were incensed at the way he’d been railroaded. Although many said they would form a new church with him as their pastor, Crutchfield begged them to stay in the Baptist church and work things out with the other members. He did not want to be party to splitting a church in half.
Many agreed to stay in the Baptist church, but they nonetheless threw themselves into the work of turning the empty barn into a church. Then there were others whom Missouri had rousted out from Dog Town, most of them no more religious than the dogs they owned in droves, yet they came with hammers and saws to help transform the barn. The owner of the sawmill, Jed Freely, a heathen if there ever was one, even gave a good price on the lumber—after considerable pressure from Missouri.
Miraculously the money was raised and the work done, and two Sundays after being fired from one church, Devoe Crutchfield stood up in his new pulpit for the first service of Bethel Church. The roomy barn was packed with people from all over the county who were curious about this pastor who was fired from his church. There was no piano or organ, but a choir loft had been built and was filled with enthusiastic singers.
Missouri was in her element. She surprised all the Winslows by wearing a dress, a rather presentable one at that, and Lewis was shocked to find that she appeared quite attractive and was not as big as he’d thought.
When Devoe got up to preach, he looked out over the congregation and had to swallow back the tightness in his throat. He bowed his head for a moment to pray for strength, and then looked up to see Jenny seated between his children, smiling up at him. Encouraged, he began confidently, “Miracles tell us that God is still on the throne. Look around you, my friends, for I’m here to tell you that today you’re seeing a miracle!” Several amens resounded loudly, the most penetrating being the voice of Missouri Ann, who was sitting in the front row smiling at him and nodding.
“I know only one thing about this church,” Devoe went on. “I want it to exalt the name of Jesus Christ. I want sinners to find Him as Savior as I have found Him, and as many of you have. And so this morning I’m going to preach a simple sermon. Before you leave here today I want you to know that all men are sinners, Jesus died for sinners, and all sinners can be saved through His blood.”
As Jenny sat listening to the truths she had heard before, something felt different. The Spirit of God was moving powerfully, and as Devoe spoke of the death of Christ, she found herself weeping. Looking around, she found others weeping as well.
When Devoe gave the invitation, Jenny was amazed at the rush of people coming down the aisle to the front. The enormous mourners’ bench filled up in moments, and Missouri Ann Ramey walked back and forth laying her hands on people, begging God to save them, hugging them, and crying with them. And still more came.
Josh had taken a seat off to one side. He had come out of curiosity, not expecting to witness anything like this. He hung his head, feeling angry and cynical, yet his affair with Dora and his bootlegging lay on him like a thousand-pound weight. While he knew he had not been perfect in his life in New York, he had never fallen to such depths as he was in now. He had been addicted to liquor for some time, and now he was addicted to Dora as well. She was not a godly woman, driving him to drink more and engage in more and more immoral conduct. As he watched men and women kneeling and begging God for forgiveness, he had a strong impulse to join them. But he was too weak. He wrenched himself out of the pew and hurried outside, where he turned his head upward, as if seeking God in the heavens. But then he hung his head in shame and groaned, “No, God, I’m no good,” before stumbling homeward on foot.
The service lasted long past the appointed hour, and when it finally ended, Missouri urged the pastor to have a baptism the next Sunday, to which Devoe gladly agreed. With a joyous smile, Missouri warned him, “Mind you, we’ll have a bunch more saved next Sunday, so it’s gonna take a lot of baptizin’, Preacher.”
After the crowd dispersed, Hannah stayed, unable to move from her place. She had been so moved by the service that she’d prayed until she felt weak. Now, sitting alone in the silence, she heard a voice behind her saying, “Preachin’s over, Hannah.”
Startled, she turned and got to her feet. Clint was walking down the aisle. “They sent me to look for you. Thought you got lost. We’re about ready to go home. Everybody else has left.”
“I just wanted to sit here and think about what happened here today.”
Clint moved closer to her and shook his head in disbelief. “I never saw anything like it.”
The two stood exchanging comments about the service, and finally Clint said, “Do you think Missouri’s right?”
“You mean about marrying Father?”
“Yes. She’s pretty sure about it.”
“I don’t think it’ll ever happen. They’re too different.”
“You never know about things like that. I think they could find some happiness together if your dad could get over his reluctance to get married again.”
“But they’re so different. And Missouri isn’t anything like our mother.”
“There probably aren’t many women around who could measure up to your mother.” He gazed at the empty choir loft for a moment and then said, “Did you see Lee Foster talking to Jenny?”
Indeed, Hannah had noticed. She’d been surprised to see Foster there. He had come dressed to kill and had taken little part in the service, but afterward he had joined Jenny, and the two had left together.
Hannah said without thinking, “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous? Me? Of who?”
“Of Lee courting Jenny.”
“Well, what makes you think I’d be jealous? He’s pretty lightweight, but if she likes him, I guess it’s all right.” He looked at her closely. “What makes you ask a question like that?”
Hannah felt her face burning. “I . . . I thought you liked her.”
“Well, of course I like her. She’s a nice girl, but she’s not for me.”
Hannah felt foolish. “I thought maybe—”
Clint suddenly reached out and put his hands on her arms. She lifted her eyes, startled, as he said, “Hannah, you’re a smart woman. Don’t you know I have feelings for you?”
Hannah did not know what went through her at that moment. It was almost like a jolt of electricity. She had been so careful to keep her distance from men, but now she realized that this man had intrigued her ever since she met him. “No,” she said, “I . . . I never thought that.”
“Any other woman would have. I didn’t think I was hiding it all that well, but now maybe it’s time to tell you right out that I’m in love with you, Hannah.”
His confession shocked Hannah into silence. When he pulled her close to kiss her, she felt a moment of panic, but then, feeling his lips on hers, she gave him what he asked for. She felt herself responding in a way she could not have thought possible, with a deep yearning she never knew existed. For so long she had avoided men, but she had watched this one, wondering at times about the complexities of his personality and wondering what drew her to him.
As for Clint, this moment was something new for him too. He had not asked her consent. In fact, he had taken her by surprise, much like the first time he had kissed her. Many women would have slapped him for his forwardness, yet here she was in his arms, giving herself to him willingly.
Suddenly he felt her pull away and saw her eyes fill with tears. “What’s wrong, Hannah?”
“I can’t marry . . . not anybody.”
“Why not, Hannah?”
She said nothing, just pulled herself away and ran blindly toward the door, ignoring his voice as he called out after her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Peace by the River
The sorghum that Clint had labored over all summer had grown into a waving amber field. For two days the entire family had harvested the crop, which had turned out to be more work than any of them had expected. Since leaving New York they had all been toughened and weathered by the southern sun. The labor required to simply keep the rudiments of a farm intact had overwhelmed them, but they had survived.
