she’s changing.”
Travis sat on the step beside him. “How?”
“Like she’s gotten religion or something.”
Travis laughed. “Does that bother you?”
Zack picked up a stone and tossed it toward the street. His silence was all the response Travis needed.
“Your mama wants to get stronger. Be a good mother. She wants good things for you too.”
The boy threw another stone.
“She drinks.”
Travis had to think about his answer to this one. Mrs. Kahler drank spirits?
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I never accused you of lying.”
“Well, she does. Every night in her room. I’ve seen the bottle on her nightstand, mostly near empty and empty. Papa used to say only a weak person drank.”
“And you think your mama is weak? Is that why you don’t have any respect for her?”
“She doesn’t care about us. Just herself. I bet she’s been sitting with Miss Rosie at Heaven’s Gate and not even thinking about us.”
“You mean you, Michael Paul, and Lydia Anne?”
“‘Course. Who else would I be talking about?”
“Well, Zack,” he said. “I have it on good report that she took Lydia Anne with her to Heaven’s Gate, and Michael Paul was at school. I saw her yesterday, and she asked about you and asked when she could see you.”
He stiffened. “She probably wanted to know how soon I’d be ready to leave for military school.”
“Not at all. What she wants is her family back together.”
“I can’t believe that. I know my mama, and she’s living in the past when my papa was alive.”
“I see there’s nothing I can say to change your mind. God will have to show you the truth. Nobody on this earth is perfect, and we all have to forgive each other. Why don’t you think on it while I fix us something to eat? I believe you love your mama as much as she loves you.”
All the while Travis busied himself with frying pork and potatoes, he pondered Zack’s accusation about his mother drinking. He refused to ask her about such a thing, but that wouldn’t stop him from praying about it. Sighing, he glanced out the front door for a glimpse of Zack’s head. Secrets always caused the most hurt. He should know. And getting folks to talk about what plagued them was real hard. Most folks thought their problems were no one’s business and talking about them was kin to sin.
Suddenly an idea took form. Journals for Zack and his mother. Even if they kept their troubles to themselves and God, it might help them deal with the deep hurt. He’d check at the general store. In the meantime, he’d ask Mrs. Rainer or the reverend to accompany him one day this week to call on Mrs. Kahler. Maybe he’d borrow a couple of fishing poles. He’d lean them up against the back porch just in case Zack decided to behave for three days. After all, if the Lord could resurrect in that amount of time, Zack Kahler could find a reason to go fishing.
Why couldn’t Bonnie Kahler be old and ugly with a voice like a raspy old man and a wart on the end of her nose? He chuckled. She’d not be too happy with his thoughts.
In a way, God had given him a second chance on more than shepherding a church. He’d given him a chance to live again. He wanted to believe that by helping Zack, he’d make up for the mistakes he’d made in the past. Trying to convince Felicia to leave the brothel hadn’t been wrong—it was how he’d gone about it.
*****
On Monday morning, after he and Zack went through their new morning schedule, washed clothes, and hung them on the line, Travis set Zack to work on some arithmetic that Miss Scott had recommended. Travis set out to visit Miss Rosie at Heaven’s Gate and to the general store for the journals.
At Heaven’s Gate, Jenny Andrews answered the door with her youngest daughter, Rachel, clinging to her skirts. She ushered him into the parlor where Miss Rosie sat propped on a sofa in the parlor and talking with the young women whom he recognized from his former visit. Mrs. Andrews had been playing a familiar hymn on the piano for them.
“Listening to Mrs. Andrews is better than church.” He took a seat on a chair that wasn’t made for men. “I don’t have to give a sermon.”
The women laughed, and he noted the color in Miss Rosie’s cheeks was a little pinker.
“How are all of you this fine day?” he said. “And our