Page 61 of The Heart’s Charge

Eliza smiled at the thin, wan woman on the wagon seat beside her. “It’s no trouble.”

When Fern Dawson had shown up on Harmony House’s doorstep a mere quarter hour after Katherine left in a panic to fetch Mr. Wallace, Eliza had known this wouldn’t be a short visit. Mrs. Dawson could only have one reason to travel all the way to Kingsland. Her baby.

“I know you must think me a terrible person,” Fern said, her head bowed, her fingers tangled in a white handkerchief that stood out in stark contrast to the black widow’s weeds that covered her from chin to bootheel.

Eliza bit back her agreement, reminding herself that God called his people to mercy, not judgment. Even toward those who abandoned their children. “I think you . . . a woman beset by grief.”

Fern’s unnaturally stiff posture buckled at the kind interpretation of events. “I was. God help me, I still am.” Tears clogged her voice as she turned pleading eyes on Eliza. “Wendell was my whole world. When he passed, I begged God to take me too. I couldn’t imagine living without my husband. I had no one else. No family. No friends. No desire to walk this earth alone.”

She wouldn’t have been alone. She had family. A child.

The words perched at the top of Eliza’s throat, ready to jump forth in admonishment. But the Spirit bridled her tongue. Fern was here now, taking steps to fix what she’d broken. Which meant the Lord had been working on her heart since the birthing. Eliza wouldn’t undo that work by handing out recriminations and lectures.

Fern hung her head. “I was out of my head when the baby was born.”

The baby. Not my baby.

“I didn’t even look at her.” Fern glanced up again. “Did he tell you that? The man who brought her to you.”

“Mr. Wallace.” Eliza neatly sidestepped the question.

“Wallace.” Recognition rang in Fern’s voice. “That’s right. I remember the doctor mentioning him. I’m afraid I didn’t pay much heed to his name at the time. All I remember is being angry that he wouldn’t take the baby and leave so I could . . .”

Join her husband.

Fern shifted on the bench and turned her gaze to the horizon. “That same anger clawed my insides for three days. But with Mr. Wallace gone, I directed it at the church ladies who forced themselves into my home. Fussing over me night and day. Not giving me a single moment to myself.” She fiddled with a pleat in her skirt. “They took shifts. All Mrs. Abernathy’s doing. She organized my guards better than her husband organizes his sermons. They cleaned my house. Made sure I ate. Prayed over me.” Her voice hitched.

“No matter how much I yelled at them and demanded they leave, they stayed. Mrs. Peabody bathed me and combed my hair. Mrs. Green brought me quilt squares to appliqué and praised my stitches even though they were a shambles. And when my breasts became so swollen it hurt to move, Mrs. Hawthorne made cool compresses and offered a distraction by reading a novel to me.

“They were all so patient and kind. To someone they barely knew.” Fern spoke softly, a touch of disbelief coloring her voice. “Living miles from town, Wendell and I didn’t make it to Sunday services very often. Yet the women came anyway. Cared for me despite my ingratitude.”

Eliza’s heart warmed at the testimony. “‘Pure religion . . . is this,’” she said. “‘To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction.’ They were living out their faith. Loving you as Jesus does.”

“But how can Jesus love me after I turned my back on my own child?” Fern wailed.

Eliza tugged Tessie and Bessie to a halt, then turned to her companion and gently touched the distraught woman’s arm. “How can Jesus love any of us? We’ve all broken his heart with the poor choices we’ve made. Yet the Good Book teaches that God delights in showing mercy. He has compassion on us, treads our sins underfoot, and hurls all our iniquities into the depths of the sea.” She squeezed Fern’s forearm. “All our iniquities. Pebbles, boulders, even mountains. Nothing is too heavy for him.”

Fern shook her head. “That’s a nice thought, Miss Southerland, but mountains? Really? Such a thing’s not possible, and you know it.”

Eliza smiled. “Nothing’s impossible with God. Jesus himself said as much.” She stared into the distance, concentrating on the verse she’d memorized as a child. “‘For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith.’ Mark 11:23.” Eliza returned her focus to Fern’s face. A spark of hope flared in the younger woman’s eyes. “He can forgive anything, Mrs. Dawson. Move any mountain. No matter how large. All you have to do is believe in him and ask.”

Fern’s gaze remained locked on Eliza’s for a long moment before she ducked her head to stare at her lap. Eliza snapped the reins and clicked her tongue to set Bessie and Tessie in motion once again, but the clop of their hooves on the road rang louder and louder in Eliza’s ears the longer her companion remained mute.

“What brought you to Harmony House today, Fern?” she prodded gently. “Why now? You could have waited until tomorrow.” She’d arrived so late in the day that the trip couldn’t have been planned. It had to have been an impulse.

“Laura Thomas came to see me this morning.” Fern twisted her handkerchief in her lap. “The ladies aren’t staying with me around the clock anymore. They only come by for an hour in the morning or afternoon to check on me. Laura came today. With her baby.”

Fern spoke the words with a reverence that caused Eliza’s heart to thump painfully against her breastbone.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. She must have noticed, because she asked if I wanted to hold him. I shook my head, but she brought him over to me anyway. Sat beside me on the sofa. Handed him into my arms. He seemed impossibly small, but he already had two teeth cutting through his bottom gum. He smiled at me and grabbed the buttons on my blouse.” Fern paused and raised her handkerchief to wipe her eyes. “For the first time since Wendell died, a pinprick of light penetrated the black dungeon of my grief. But it hurt my eyes. I’d gone too long without it. I thrust the baby away from me, and as soon as his mother took him back, I ran from the house. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to get away from the hope that light had stirred. From the truth I couldn’t bear to admit. I had abandoned my baby. Wendell’s baby.”

“And so you came,” Eliza concluded, but Fern shook her head.

“No. The shame was too stark. I told myself I didn’t deserve to be her mother. That I had lost my chance and there was no going back.”

Eliza frowned. She’d hoped Fern’s mental state had lost its fragility over the last week and a half, but listening to her confess events from mere hours ago tempted Eliza to turn the wagon around.

“Even so, I couldn’t escape the urge to learn what had become of my daughter. I needed to confirm she was safe. So I visited the only person in town who could give me the answers I sought.”