Healing of the Heart: A Shumard Oak Bend Novel (Discerning God’s Best Book 4)

Chapter 27

June 1873Teddy

Teddy opened her eyes and blinked. The sheet covering her felt heavy. Panic worked its way into her mind. She clenched her teeth and pushed the thoughts away. Dr. Whitaker no longer had her in his grasp. She was safe. She turned and confirmed she was also not alone.

Birdie sat reading in a chair beside her. Teddy watched her friend’s mouth move as if working to form an unknown word. Birdie’s forehead wrinkled as she squinted and leaned closer to the page, chewing on the inside of her mouth.

A breathy sound escaped Teddy’s mouth, and Birdie slammed the book closed.

Teddy smiled at her friend and leaned on one arm. “Whatever are you concentrating on so deeply?”

Birdie turned the book from front to back. “Your Bible. I hope you don’t mind.”

Teddy sat up, pulling the sheet to her neck. “I didn’t know . . .”

“What? That I could read?”

Birdie’s harsh response made Teddy flinch. “No. I didn’t know you didn’t have one of your own.”

Birdie placed the Bible on the table with care. “How are you feeling today?”

Teddy yawned. “What time is it?”

“Three.”

Teddy looked to the window. “In the afternoon? Why aren’t you at work?”

“Sent word I was sick. Didn’t lie. I’m sick of working.” Birdie laughed at her own joke.

Tears surfaced, and Teddy struggled to speak. “For me?”

“Well, sure.” Birdie’s tone betrayed a hint of astonishment. “And I’ll take down the guy who hurt you, too. Just say the word.”

Teddy feared the girl meant it. “I’m fine, really. Just a bit shaken.”

“Shaken is when you cut a tree, and it misses your baby brother by that much.” Birdie made a short distance between her fingers. “You cried so hard and long you lost a day.”

“A day? It’s three in the afternoon tomorrow?”

Birdie’s laughter filled the room. “And lost your mind to go with it.” She sobered. “Thomas brought you home yesterday morning. Josephine put you in a hot tub and got you ready for bed. Merriweather fed you beef broth, and I stood guard. You’ve slept fifteen straight hours.”

Teddy could not stop the tears.

“Knock, knock.” Mrs. Jones poked her head in the door. “I heard laughter and hoped that meant you were up. I brought warm broth, and Cook made molasses cookies. She swears it’s good for the blood.”

“Thank you. Please, come in. You all have taken such good care of me. I’m sorry to have been a bother.”

Mrs. Jones made a tsk—tsk sound. “No bother. Bernadette, if you need a break to stretch your legs, I’m happy to sit with Theodora while she eats.”

Birdie hesitated until Teddy nodded at her. “Thanks, ma’am. Holler if you need me.” Her expression left no doubt she was serious.

Mrs. Jones set the tray on the table and pulled out the chair. Teddy pushed off the bed, gave her legs a moment, then accepted the offered gift.

“Mrs. Jones?”

“Hmm?”

Teddy’s arm felt too heavy to lift the spoon. “I may not have a job, but I have savings.”

“If you’re worried about rent, Dr. Shankel has taken care of that for you. As far as work goes, he left word that Mrs. Douglass still requires your help. He specifically said to wear something old. Harriet has canning to do.”

Hard work sounded wonderful if she could get her strength back.

“You’ll bounce back in no time. Eat your meal, and then Birdie can help you change. She’s quite something. All that rough exterior, but a heart of gold.”

Teddy took a sip of the broth, the taste both satisfying and nourishing. She realized how hungry she was. She pushed etiquette aside, picked up the bowl, and savored each sip.

Mrs. Jones tidied Teddy’s bed and picked up Josephine’s stockings from the floor, laying them on her bunk. “How you live with three women, I’ll never know. It’s worse than picking up after my Zebedee. That man could throw a penny across the room and into a mug but missed the laundry hamper every time.”

The soup and the conversation warmed Teddy.

Mrs. Jones ran a finger under her eye. “But I wouldn’t have changed him.” She sat on Teddy’s bunk and straightened the lace edge of her sleeve. “But he changed me.” A noise like a small cough came from the woman’s throat.

Teddy’s curiosity got the better of her. “How long were you married?”

“Thirty-one years. I married him in a little church just down the road in 1839. I was a mere child of sixteen. All I wanted was to go to normal school and become a teacher, but I took one look at Zebedee and, well, that’s all it took to change my mind.”

Teddy took a bite of the molasses cookie and let the sharp tang fill her mouth. “How long has he been gone?”

“Soon to be four years.”

“I thought he died in the war.”

Mrs. Jones rubbed the fabric of her hanky between her finger and thumb. “In a way, he did. He never worked again, at least not in the traditional sense. We’d not had children, yet we had all these rooms, so we opened our home to boarders. Zebedee cooked all the meals. He could make a cake Crocket would salivate over.”

Teddy realized the tension she’d been carrying was dissipating. “You said he changed you?”

“How my parents ever put up with me for sixteen years, I’ll never know. I was such a precocious child and knew it. My father called me Cady Bug, saying I sounded like a cicada with my incessant noise. Which is ridiculous when you think about it because only the males make that buzzing noise to attract a mate.”

Teddy covered her mouth to hide a giggle.

“But Zebedee would let me go on and on about every fact I knew. He’d ask me how to do something, or what type of bird that was, or, oh, any number of things.”

She dabbed at her nose before continuing. “One day, he asked how to start the fire in the stove. My response? Zebedee Jones, we’ve been married for seven years. You know perfectly well how to start a fire. What are you asking me for?”

Mrs. Jones’s laughter brought fresh tears down her sharp cheekbones. “He took me in his arms and told me he just liked to hear my voice.” She folded her hanky and lifted her chin. “Such a silly story.”

Teddy offered her most sincere smile. “It’s a story of true love.”

“Love? No, it’s a story of devotion. I didn’t fall in love with Zebedee until after we buried our first child. He cared for me better than my mother could have had she been alive.”

Mrs. Jones’s laughter quickly turned to sorrow, her cheeks wet with fresh tears.

Teddy felt a pang of sorrow at the weight of Mrs. Jones’s words. Teddy softened her features and offered a sincere smile. She extended her hand and squeezed Mrs. Jones’s offered fingers. There were no words to properly express condolences for the gravity of the woman’s loss, but Teddy offered a simple, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. Things happen for a reason. We may not always understand God’s ways, but look at all the children He’s brought into my home. Technically, those under my roof are adults, but you’d never know it.” Mrs. Jones pointed to Josephine’s unmade bunk and the socks hanging over the edge.

Teddy let out a chuckle. “Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”

“For what?”

“For being here for us. In some ways, we all still need mothering, and you’re doing a fine job.”

The woman blinked and lifted her chin. “Well”—her voice cracked—“what a nice thing to say.”

Birdie pushed open the door with enough force to cause Mrs. Jones’s hanky to flutter to the floor. “I’m back.”

Mrs. Jones picked up the fabric. “So I see. Well, Theodora, you’re in capable hands. If you’re finished with your meal, I’ll take your tray. I expect you to sit with us at the table this evening. None of this lying around all day.” The woman winked when Birdie turned away.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be down.”

Birdie ran her fingers over the cracked leather of Teddy’s Bible. “You need help getting dressed?”

“I’m feeling quite refreshed from my meal. I believe I can manage. Did you read something interesting while I slept?” Teddy asked her friend as she pulled her dress from the peg.

Birdie placed the worn leather book on her lap. “You had a ribbon in Matthew with lots of underlines. I thought writing in your Bible was a sin.”

“The Bible is a precious gift. Those are God’s inspired words and should be revered. But the paper they are printed on is just that—paper. I mark my Bible in different ways. There are underlines for emphasis, dates in the margins to remind me of a significant time God used that verse in my life, and even notes for clarity. It helps me. My Bible is my most cherished possession. I’m not defacing it with my writing.”

Birdie ran her finger down the page. “Chapter six, verse eleven has me confused. I don’t owe money to anybody, so why would I forgive a debt someone owes me?”

Teddy ran through the Lord’s Prayer in her mind. “‘And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.’ Think of debts as wrongdoings. In this prayer, we’re asking God to forgive us of those things that go against His laws and hurt His heart. We all need forgiveness, and in the same way, we are to forgive those who have wronged or hurt us.”

“Do you forgive the man who hurt you?”

“He grievously wronged me,” Teddy said, careful to choose the right words. “But yes, I do.” Teddy meant those words, but it would be the forgetting that would take time. “Help me with these buttons, will you?”

Birdie laid the Bible open on the table and secured the back of Teddy’s dress. “I’m not sure I could. He doesn’t deserve forgiveness—from me or God.”

Teddy moved to her bunk and pulled out her shoes. “That’s called grace.”

“Grace?” Birdie ran one finger over the underlined section as if searching for the word.

“Yes. Grace isn’t something that can be earned, but it is freely given, even when we don’t deserve it. Just like we don’t deserve love and forgiveness from our Heavenly Father, Jesus gave it anyway.”

Birdie harrumphed. “Well, that man doesn’t deserve any of it.” She crossed her arms.

“That’s why it’s called grace. God’s gift of grace and forgiveness is for everyone. No one deserves it. We didn’t deserve His death on the cross for our sins—our wrongdoings, or debts. God wants us to forgive others, even when it’s hard. We can’t do it in our own strength.”

Birdie tapped her foot. “But what if we can’t forgive ourselves?” Her tone became reflective, and she diverted her gaze.

Teddy’s compassion for this friend who had done so much for her in the past days increased. Birdie’s hands were still tucked deep, or Teddy would have reached for one. She would have to connect with Birdie another way. She prayed her eyes conveyed understanding and kindness.

“Believe God’s Word over your feelings.” Teddy’s gentle words pulled Birdie’s gaze back to hers. “When you ask, God not only forgives you but He also clears your guilty conscience. You may not feel it immediately, but God won’t leave you as you walk beside Him. In 1 John 1:9, Jesus tells us: ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’”

Birdie leaned back in the chair. “Confess my sins to whom?” The girl’s arms flailed.

“That is a question few ask, Birdie.” Teddy saw a new interest in the girl’s eyes. “Often, the biggest reason we can’t easily accept God’s forgiveness is because we haven’t first asked for forgiveness from the ones we’ve wronged.”

Birdie leaned on her forearms and blew out a breath. “Kinda hard when that person’s dead.”

Teddy wasn’t certain how to respond. She closed her eyes and asked for help from above. “I’m not a Bible scholar, but I believe Psalm 51 addresses this. David knew the sacrifice God wanted more than anything was a broken spirit and a contrite heart. If you are truly sorry for your sin, the wrong you did to another, and there is no way to ask forgiveness from that individual, then repent your sin to the Lord and receive the forgiveness God offers you.”

“What if it’s hard?”

Teddy laughed. “It certainly isn’t easy. If we had to forgive everyone we’d wronged before Jesus would accept us, we’d never come to Jesus. He does the work in us as we grow in Him.”

Emotion filled Birdie’s eyes. “That sounds good.”

“You can have peace, Birdie. Jesus is waiting to wash away your sins and give you new life in Him—a chance to start fresh and clean.”

Teddy steadied her breathing. She needed to be patient and allow the Holy Spirit to work in Birdie’s heart.

Birdie cocked her head and peeked out from one side as if embarrassed. “I don’t know what to say. Will you help me?”

“Help you? That’s the beauty of this, Birdie. You don’t need my words. Jesus wants to hear words from your heart, not mine.”

Birdie bowed her head. “I hope I get this right. Father in Heaven, hollow is your name.”

Teddy tried to keep the mirth from escaping as she interrupted her friend’s prayer and unique word choice. “You don’t need to be formal. Just talk to God like you do me. Ask Him to forgive you of your sins and help you forgive others as you’ve been forgiven.”

“God? I’m sorry for, well, you know what I did, and I shouldn’t have, but I did, and I won’t do it again.” Birdie stopped.

Teddy looked up to see a light flush of color on her friend’s cheeks.

Birdie held a pained look on her face. “Do I gotta say it out loud? Pray, I mean?”

“No, Birdie. It isn’t me you’re speaking to. It’s God. He hears your thoughts and knows your heart. Confess your sin to Him, ask for His forgiveness, and accept His gift of new life.”

Birdie bowed her head and clenched her hands so tightly her fingers turned white. Her mouth moved and hands bobbed as she prayed. Teddy may not know what her friend was praying about, but she watched color return to Birdie’s knuckles and her facial expression soften as the effects of what was happening in Birdie’s heart shone in her countenance.

Birdie lifted her head. “I’m all done.” A smile started on one side and spread to the other.

“That’s a wonderful start. God desires all of your heart, Birdie. When you allow Him to direct your life, He will. Here.” Teddy tenderly passed the girl her Bible. “This belongs to you now,” she said softly, her voice carrying a gentle assurance. “May it guide you as you journey in obedience to Christ and deepen your understanding of Him.”

The girl hesitated, her eyes wide with reverence before accepting the gift. Birdie swallowed hard.

A warm smile graced Teddy’s lips as she shook her head gently. “It brings me great joy to entrust it to you, knowing it will be cherished and used to further your spiritual growth.”

Birdie’s smile lit up her face. “Thank you. It’s the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Teddy knew better. The gift of salvation was by far the best gift anyone would ever receive.

Teddy was thankful Thomas had rented an open carriage to transport her to Harriet’s. The oppressive heat of the day and being so close to him in a confined space so soon after her ordeal would not have been easy.

He let out a low whoa to the horses. “I’ve errands to run. I’ll be back this afternoon to pick you up. Does that work for you?”

Teddy nodded. “Yes. Please don’t get down. I’m fine.” She lifted her skirts and stepped to the ground, then turned back to him. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Enjoy your day.”

The clip-clop of hooves and scrape and grind of a poorly set wheel followed her all the way to Harriet’s home. Teddy heard singing at the open door and stood motionless as she soaked in the words. Teddy knocked and stepped inside. “That was beautiful. I don’t know that one.”

“Teddy.” Harriet wiped her hands on her soiled apron and opened her arms.

Teddy melted into the embrace. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. Three days of canning, and I’ve sung every hymn in the book. That one was ‘Lord, My Weak Thought in Vain Would Climb.’”

“Beautiful words, unusual tune.”

Harriet laughed. “Some of that could have been on me, not the writer.”

“What was the line about why this or that?”

“Ah, yes, I suppose that line would connect with your heart. ‘Why that, or this, thou dost ordain’? We don’t always understand God’s ways, do we?”

“No, ma’am. As the song says, when the night is dark, and I can’t rest, I can only lean on my Lord.”

“Mmm-hmm, that I understand. There are some dark nights without my Douglass, but ‘Thy sovereign wisdom I adore, and calmly, sweetly, trust thee still.’ Next to the Bible, music always speaks most to my heart.”

Teddy grabbed an apron from the peg on the wall and covered her dress. “What are we canning today?”

“I did the raspberries on Monday. Those couldn’t wait. On Tuesday, I finished the blueberries. Yesterday was tomatoes. Today is sweet corn.” Harriet pointed to the bushel baskets leaning against the wall outside the back door. “I made a trade with a farmer. His sweet corn is better than cash. Tomorrow starts the cucumbers. Our little store down the way says they’ll buy all my pickles. They ran out last year. I care little for them. Those were Douglass’s favorite.”

Teddy hauled and shucked as Harriet rambled while standing over the hot stove. Even with the windows and doors open, the room was thick with steam.

“Did you do much canning growing up?” Harriet asked, taking a moment to wipe her apron over her face and neck.

“Yes, ma’am. I grew up on a farm. Dill pickles aren’t my favorite either, but I can eat my weight in bread and butter pickles.” Teddy pushed the husks and silks into the basket.

Harriet pulled the jars from the pressure cooker and prepared the next jars to go in. “We’ll be making both if my feet can manage another day of standing.”

“Switch jobs with me. You sit and cut this corn off the cob. I can handle the pressure cooker and throwing this mess out.”

“Throw it out? Didn’t your mama teach you to make corn broth?”

“I’ve heard of corn silk tea, but broth?”

“Absolutely. I’ll take you up on your offer.” Harriet sighed as she sat. “Now, get the stock pot off that shelf over there. Yes. That one. Fill it with all this goodness. Husks, too. Wait, cut the bad part off that cob. Good, now add enough water to cover them and let it cook for an hour.”

The heavy pot clanged on the stove as Teddy struggled to set it down. “What do you do with it?” Teddy wiped the cabinet of the moisture.

“After straining it, that broth makes fine liquid to use with grits, rice, corn chowder, just about anything a woman needs to feed her family. It’s a stock base and adds good flavor. Just don’t be feeding it to your babies. Might bother their tummies.”

“Family? Babies? Aren’t you getting the cart before the horse?” Teddy laughed awkwardly. She added wood to the stove.

“It’ll happen in God’s timing.” Harriet grew quiet, then began whistling. “You know, that Thomas will make someone a fine husband.”

Teddy squirmed on the inside but kept her back to the woman and pushed the husks into the now-boiling water.

“Don’t you agree?” Harriet asked but didn’t give Teddy time to respond. “He’ll need someone to be his helpmate back in Missouri. Lonely thing, serving people all day and night. Birthing others’ babies. I hope they have a good eatery nearby. The man won’t have a moment to fix his own meals. He’ll probably hire out his laundry. Doing those things for my Douglass was pure joy. Every woman should have the privilege of partnering with a man.”

“Partner? Sounds to me like you’re describing a full-time job.”

Harriet’s laughter sounded good. “The full-time job is keeping them from killing themselves. Men do all kinds of ridiculous things for no good reason other than to take a year off our lives. They stop maturing after school age. If you’re lucky, they mellow after a number of years, but they always keep you on your toes.”

“It sounds like you and Douglass had a marvelous marriage.” Teddy tried to play off the sigh that escaped her mouth as steam releasing from the pressure cooker. “These things always make me nervous.”

“Sit here and shuck. I’ll make tea. Yes, we did, but it wasn’t always easy, and it certainly didn’t start that way. Ours was an arranged marriage of sorts.” Harriet wiped at her brow and poured water over the loose tea. “Phew. I’m plumb tuckered out, and it isn’t even noon. We’ll let that steep nice and strong. Now, where was I?”

“Arranged marriage.” Teddy heard wistfulness and intrigue in her words. She took great pains to pick loose silks off the table as Harriet sat close enough to see the color on her face was not from the heat.

“Right. Not an easy story to tell, but one of great value. Douglass was a freedman working for Judge Pennypacker’s father-in-law. He was eighteen years old and drove the man to Virginia to some important meeting. He was told to watch himself. Nasty business going on, people selling slaves right there in the market.”

Teddy got up and poured the tea, then settled back into the story.

“Thank you. That’s where he first saw me. I was thirteen, scrawny as all get out, and my skin as blue as it was black. I must have looked a fright with my swollen face.” She dabbed at her eyes. “They left me until last. I figured they’d throw me in with the old ladies and broken men.”

Teddy took a sip, doing her best not to make a sound. She wanted to hear every word. She couldn’t imagine the life Harriet had led and the trauma she’d faced as a child.

“When the old judge came out, my Douglass asked the man to bid on his behalf. He said the judge asked him what he wanted with a girl like that. Douglass told the judge I was his family.” Harriet lowered her head, shaking it back and forth. “That was a bald-faced lie for about two weeks until I married him.”

“At thirteen?” Teddy felt her eyes widen.

“The judge didn’t abide by slavery, and when he found out we weren’t really kin, he told Douglass since he’d saved me, he needed to fulfill his duties. The judge gave me my freedom and a husband all in one fell swoop.”

“Did you love him?” Her question felt personal, but she wanted to know. She was emotionally invested in this story and needed to know how to justify the loving couple she knew with this unusual and unconventional marriage.

“Eventually. Idolized him for a while, then loathed him. Felt like I’d escaped one type of slavery for another, like you said.” Harriet winked. “Then, one day, I realized I was doing things for him because I wanted to, not because I had to. He was a good man.”

Teddy was overcome by a profound sense of respect for Harriet’s unwavering resilience and remarkable strength in the face of adversity. The depth of emotion stirring within Teddy was so overwhelming that tears welled up, mirroring Harriet’s own. Despite the challenging circumstances surrounding Harriet’s marriage, Teddy couldn’t help but acknowledge the profound love that emanated from her, alongside her willingness to endure the distasteful until it had transformed into something joyful.

“Thomas is a good man, Teddy. A God-fearing man who would make a mighty fine husband.”