might crack with the force of her smile.
“Are you sure, because if you’re unwell. . .”
“No. I’m quite all right. Quite.” She looked down Mulberry as if eager to be away and transferred the basket to her arm farthest from him.
What was she hiding? He wished he’d gotten a better look at that bottle. He’d thought it looked suspiciously like a whiskey bottle the instant before she’d hidden it. Maynard’s sold spirits as well as medicines. Could it be for Ralston? But then, wouldn’t the man simply get his liquor at the Billiard Saloon?
“I was just on my way to the church but would be glad to carry your basket and accompany you back to the boardinghouse first.” Perhaps God had given him this opportunity to speak with her.
“No, thank you just the same, but I wouldn’t want to detain you from your work on the church.” Her rushed answer tumbled out while her glance darted about as if looking for escape.
“I don’t mind, really. . . ,” Jacob began.
“Reverend Hale. Ma’am.” Constable Rafe Arbuckle’s voice intruded as he stepped toward them dragging his hat off his shock of salt-and-pepper hair. “The sheriff got wind of a bunch of runaway slaves. Just wonderin’ if you’d seen any different faces, you bein’ situated near Georgetown an’ all.”
Jacob stiffened. “No. No, I haven’t.” He knew the sheriff was a hot pro-slavery man. In the two years he’d been in Madison, Jacob would have liked to help the Chapmans and Opal in their work with the Underground Railroad. However, being a minister, he knew he’d be questioned often. He’d learned from Orville that he could best help the organization by being oblivious to its movements.
“I—I need to get back to the boardinghouse and help with the washing,” Rosaleen murmured. Before he could stop her, she hurried down Mulberry Street.
“Don’t mean to be a bother. Just supposed to ask, that’s all,” Rafe said, his voice apologetic as he shifted from foot to foot.
Jacob’s heart sank at his lost opportunity to talk with Rosaleen. He dragged his gaze from her fleeting figure back to Rafe. He couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the constable. Rafe Arbuckle was a good man who’d been sent on a distasteful errand. He gave Arbuckle an understanding smile and clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder. “That’s all right, Rafe. You’re just doing your duty.”
As he walked to the church, Jacob realized that instead of learning any answers to his questions about Rosaleen, he’d been presented with even more questions.
“ Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers. ”
The words from Second Corinthians screamed through his mind. But he was yoked. His heart was inextricably bound to hers.
The sight of the new church building no longer brought him the joy it once had. Each soul won to Christ in this building would be precious. Yet if he failed with Rosaleen, he feared he’d be forever haunted by the one soul his heart most longed to claim for Christ.
Oh God, help me to win her for You, or disentangle my heart from hers and emancipate me from this misery.
❧
Rosaleen jerked up from her bedroom floor with a start. She’d slept in her day dress expecting the knock, yet the soft rap set her heart pounding.
“Rosaleen.” Andrew Chapman’s voice slowed her heart to a canter.
Without a word, she unlocked the door and let him in.
“Train’s a’comin’.”
“Already?”
Andrew nodded.
The encounter this afternoon with constable Arbuckle had been unnerving. She remembered how her heart had pounded and her knees had gone weak, fearing she would be directly questioned about the runaway slaves.
She knew the sooner they could move on, the better for all involved. Yet in the last two days, she’d become accustomed to the presence of Sally and the children. The sadness she felt at the thought of parting with them surprised her.
Sniffing back tears, she gently woke Lizzie and Elijah. It tugged at her heart
“Are you sure, because if you’re unwell. . .”
“No. I’m quite all right. Quite.” She looked down Mulberry as if eager to be away and transferred the basket to her arm farthest from him.
What was she hiding? He wished he’d gotten a better look at that bottle. He’d thought it looked suspiciously like a whiskey bottle the instant before she’d hidden it. Maynard’s sold spirits as well as medicines. Could it be for Ralston? But then, wouldn’t the man simply get his liquor at the Billiard Saloon?
“I was just on my way to the church but would be glad to carry your basket and accompany you back to the boardinghouse first.” Perhaps God had given him this opportunity to speak with her.
“No, thank you just the same, but I wouldn’t want to detain you from your work on the church.” Her rushed answer tumbled out while her glance darted about as if looking for escape.
“I don’t mind, really. . . ,” Jacob began.
“Reverend Hale. Ma’am.” Constable Rafe Arbuckle’s voice intruded as he stepped toward them dragging his hat off his shock of salt-and-pepper hair. “The sheriff got wind of a bunch of runaway slaves. Just wonderin’ if you’d seen any different faces, you bein’ situated near Georgetown an’ all.”
Jacob stiffened. “No. No, I haven’t.” He knew the sheriff was a hot pro-slavery man. In the two years he’d been in Madison, Jacob would have liked to help the Chapmans and Opal in their work with the Underground Railroad. However, being a minister, he knew he’d be questioned often. He’d learned from Orville that he could best help the organization by being oblivious to its movements.
“I—I need to get back to the boardinghouse and help with the washing,” Rosaleen murmured. Before he could stop her, she hurried down Mulberry Street.
“Don’t mean to be a bother. Just supposed to ask, that’s all,” Rafe said, his voice apologetic as he shifted from foot to foot.
Jacob’s heart sank at his lost opportunity to talk with Rosaleen. He dragged his gaze from her fleeting figure back to Rafe. He couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the constable. Rafe Arbuckle was a good man who’d been sent on a distasteful errand. He gave Arbuckle an understanding smile and clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder. “That’s all right, Rafe. You’re just doing your duty.”
As he walked to the church, Jacob realized that instead of learning any answers to his questions about Rosaleen, he’d been presented with even more questions.
“ Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers. ”
The words from Second Corinthians screamed through his mind. But he was yoked. His heart was inextricably bound to hers.
The sight of the new church building no longer brought him the joy it once had. Each soul won to Christ in this building would be precious. Yet if he failed with Rosaleen, he feared he’d be forever haunted by the one soul his heart most longed to claim for Christ.
Oh God, help me to win her for You, or disentangle my heart from hers and emancipate me from this misery.
❧
Rosaleen jerked up from her bedroom floor with a start. She’d slept in her day dress expecting the knock, yet the soft rap set her heart pounding.
“Rosaleen.” Andrew Chapman’s voice slowed her heart to a canter.
Without a word, she unlocked the door and let him in.
“Train’s a’comin’.”
“Already?”
Andrew nodded.
The encounter this afternoon with constable Arbuckle had been unnerving. She remembered how her heart had pounded and her knees had gone weak, fearing she would be directly questioned about the runaway slaves.
She knew the sooner they could move on, the better for all involved. Yet in the last two days, she’d become accustomed to the presence of Sally and the children. The sadness she felt at the thought of parting with them surprised her.
Sniffing back tears, she gently woke Lizzie and Elijah. It tugged at her heart
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