Future and Hope Blog: Destination Hope - Book 5 - Reconciliation

This is a mild, transition chapter. For new readers to this story, I linked Chapter 1. Chapters 2 - 4 are linked under September, 5 - 10 under October, 11 - 18 under November, and 19 - 21 under December.

Destination Hope – Book 5 – Reconciliation

A Novel By:

Charles J. Patricoff

Chapter 22

New Day

The winter of 1865 and 1866 seemed harder than the one before, which witnessed the closing months of the “War of Northern Aggression.” With the invasion of new Yankee overseers, and the continued occupation of a military, peacekeeping presence, quartered in Fort Granger on the east side of the Harpeth River, the residents of Franklin, Tennessee looked forward to the coming spring and a hoped for brighter future.

For the Graham family, there were moments when even Nathaniel’s confidence was shaken. He knew that former members of his congregation viewed him as a Yankee now, even though he grew up in this valley. Married to a Yankee woman did not help his image. Many in the community considered his relationship with Eleanor a social sin, and his church congregation disapproved of his uncompromising position regarding the former institution of slavery. They punished him on Christmas. The church housed a sparse number, a stark contrast to the population expected for the annual Yuletide celebration.

Along with the dwindling numbers, came reduced contributions. Fewer offerings equaled lower revenue. Low revenue started backroom discussions among the church’s leadership. They questioned whether or not Nathaniel Thomas Graham should retain the office of Pastor. To make matters worse, Nathaniel could no longer ignore the negative attitudes shown to his wife and infant son.

For several weeks during January 1866, little William struggled with some respiratory distress, keeping Eleanor in a chronic state of worry. Nathaniel noticed that no amount of assurance from him eased her pain. As a consequence, Nathaniel faced a more frightful accuser than anything he faced in battle. He could not shake the facts. He failed at being a pastor, a father, a husband, and a man. This pre-dawn, brisk early March day, Nathaniel took a long, adventurous walk with his faithful, rib-protruding companion, Bailey. Bailey’s diminished stature reminded Nathaniel of yet another potential failure. How will I be able to provide for my family?

“Well, Father,” Nathaniel said, gazing at the gray ceiling. “I know You know our situation. The fact that this winter has taken a heavy toll on our resources is no surprise to You. Our grain is almost gone. I haven’t seen any large game in over a month. I fear these woods are hunted out. The folks in town are not faring well, either. Some have starved to death. Eleanor told me that she heard the Carter family butchered their last horse for meat, and others have slaughtered their immature livestock. As a community, we may not have much for future breeding.

“Which brings me to another issue.” Nathaniel inspected a break in his log fence. If we ever can afford our own cattle, I’ll need to fix this. Seems fitting. “I know You gave Eleanor to me to be my wife. But since we’ve been here, she seems so…” Nathaniel struggled to find the correct word. He stared at the thick, snow-threatening clouds as if begging for help and watched his exhaled vapor disappear. He choked, “Cold.”

Bailey came running toward Nathaniel from the nearby woods. Droplets of water splashed behind. Once he reached Nathaniel, he stalled his advance, shook and sprayed water in every direction.

Nathaniel held up his left arm attempting to avoid the frigid shower shouting, “Bailey, stop.”

Of course, Bailey failed to obey. He raised his black-square head and gazed at his human friend with his happy-brown eyes. Bailey’s broad, pink tongue hung out of the left side of his mouth. He panted as if catching his breath and then he pawed at the man’s trousers.

Nathaniel smiled. “What am I going to do with you, boy?” Nathaniel patted his dog’s muscular shoulder, taking note of his overall thinning condition. “What kind of man am I? I don’t even have enough to feed you, properly.” Nathaniel shouldered his shotgun and said, “Let’s go. Maybe if God provides, we’ll at least find a squirrel.”

Nathaniel headed for a pond that collected along the Sharp Branch Creek that ran near his barn and wound its way to the Harpeth River north of the town. In this thicker part of the woods, he found the remains of a Yankee Lieutenant. He searched for some identification, but found none, as if the man had been robbed of all personal belongings. He often wondered how this lone soldier ended up on his property. But he chose not to disclose this find to Eleanor. In his mind, she seemed distressed enough.

As the pair of mighty hunters made slow, stealthy progress, as much as Bailey could, Nathaniel said, “I know the Apostle Paul wrote that I would have conflict—whether to please You or my wife. And Peter wrote that a husband must live with his wife with understanding. But Lord, how does a man do this? Eleanor is such a mystery to me, and it seems nothing I say or do can make her happy.”

No cosmic comment followed. Nathaniel shifted his shotgun from his shoulder and held it with both hands in front of his chest, ready to bring it to use. He stepped over a fallen log while Bailey sniffed at its broken end. “I know Your Word states that the glory of a woman is her hair, but I don’t understand why she spends so much time making it presentable.” He kicked at some scat. It was old and hard. “She seems to worry about everything. Does William eat enough, does he eat too much? Does he sleep enough or too much? I swear; she worries if he’s breathing. He seems fine to me. I admit; I don’t understand her.”

He heard, “Why do you worry about what you know or do not know, comprehend or not?”

Confused by the questions, Nathaniel halted his progress under the skeleton trees. He said, “And now that our new Mayor and his associates, including my old nemesis—I wonder how he jumped from Sergeant to Captain, oh well—have taken control of the town, she’s afraid of—well—You know, I think her notions are crazy.”

Bailey stood near the wood’s edge. He lowered his head to shoulder level and extended his nose. Nathaniel noted Bailey’s alerted posture, and thought he heard a promising sound. With his eyes, he followed the pointed direction.

A pair of mud ducks floated in the pond. The female shook her head after taking a quick bobbing drink. The colorful male seemed to cock his head in the direction of the cracking twig under Nathaniel’s left foot.

In a split second, they would fly away. Nathaniel full-cocked his weapon’s hammer and threw the gun to his shoulder. His heart raced as the pair took flight in nature’s life-saving panic. Nathaniel swung his gun in line with their apparent track. You are my provider. He pulled the trigger and snapped backward with the kick to his right shoulder. The trailing female dropped into the pond as the male made a clean escape.

“Go get it, Bailey.”

Like a released coiled spring, Bailey sprang into action. He plunged into the water and paddled toward the splashed fowl. With a well-bread soft mouth, Bailey grabbed the night’s future dinner and swam back to Nathaniel. He delivered the prize to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel showered Bailey with praise just as Bailey showered him with moisture from the pond. Nathaniel held up the lifeless duck and said, “Maybe this will make her happy. What do you think boy?”

Bailey panted. Nathaniel wrapped the duck in a cloth and stuffed it in his backpack. He collected his gear and said, “Let’s go home, boy.”

After several months of bitter winter weather, warmer air pushed from the southeast and blanketed the Harpeth River valley like a fleece comforter. The Graham family survived, but there were days when even the faith leader wondered if he had done the right thing moving them from the presumed security of Chicago. He might have had a promising future with D. L. Moody’s growing and renowned ministry. However, he believed God had called him home.

Doubts attacked again, when little William coughed and sneezed for almost two full weeks. Nathaniel could read the worry on Eleanor’s face. She claimed to be grateful for a warm home as snow piled high around the farm, but he wondered if she longed for her more familiar surroundings in Illinois. She assured her husband that the baby’s condition could be serious, but that she had begun treating him before it had a chance to reach a critical stage, and he would be fine.

Nathaniel received a courier message from the church elders calling him to attend a special council. He wondered what it could mean. Eleanor had warned him to change the tone of his sermons, but he claimed to be persuaded that God’s Holy Spirit directed the path of his teachings. He trusted God to soften the hearts of his congregation and that, over time, they would respond to his aggressive challenges to repent.

With clearing skies and calmer winds, Nathaniel spent three days plowing, mending, and planting. On the morning of the fourth beautiful day, Nathaniel let Bailey out, walked out onto the front porch, and met the rising sun. “Well, Lord, I suspect this could be an interesting day. Eleanor wants us to take a trip into town. While she fed little William’s healthy appetite last night, she said we need to replace some of our grain staples.” He heard the farmhouse door open behind him.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your prayer time, but William is starting to scoot around the house.” She reached down and patted Bailey’s head. “Good morning boy. Find anything interesting this morning?”

Bailey wagged his long tail and panted. Eleanor straightened and placed her hands on her hips. She said, “Soon William will be crawling, and before much longer, he’ll be walking.”

Nathaniel’s eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened, “Walking? How old are youngsters when they start walking?”

They both heard William crying. Eleanor held up a finger and rushed back into the house. With the momentary interruption, Nathaniel paid closer attention to the chirping birds in the surrounding trees, and then to Eleanor’s muffled greeting to William. Seconds letter, Eleanor came back outside with William. She tossed a towel over her shoulder and lifted William up to pat his back. She smiled at her shook husband. “You didn’t expect him to stay little forever, did you?”

Nathaniel scratched the left side of his head. “No-o-o.” Then he answered with a bit more intelligence. “But, I guess I didn’t think he’d be walking so soon.”

Eleanor said, “And since he will be walking soon, he’s going to need shoes.” Eleanor kept jostling William. He made all sorts of indiscernible snorts and grunts. Then, he burped. “There you go. Now, don’t you feel better?”

Bailey spotted a squirrel and darted off the porch racing like a greyhound.

“Bailey’s on patrol, again.” Eleanor smiled at her husband. “Speaking of needing shoes, it looks like it’s going to be a nice day. As we talked last night, we really need to ride into town and pick up a few things. We’re completely out of coffee, and our supplies of rice and wheat are low.”

“As are our finances.”

“I’m aware of our situation. I don’t intend on spending too much.”

“And we still have a full growing season ahead of us before we can be completely self-reliant.”

Eleanor twisted her torso and played with William’s pencil thin left arm as if they danced together. “Well, if we run a little short, maybe you could request from the church leadership a small advance on your next month’s salary.”

Nathaniel shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Then do you want to go into town today?”

He locked his gaze on his wife. “Yep.”

Eleanor grinned broadly. “Great.” She looked into William’s happy face and said, “I guess we’d better have some breakfast and get ready.”

“I’ll hitch Shadow to the wagon.”

Nathaniel finished his prayer time as he moseyed to the barn. “What do you have planned for today, Lord?”

Hum? What do you think will happen when they go into town? Thanks for reading.