Searching for Anna, Jenifer Carll-Tong [cheapest way to read ebooks TXT] 📗
- Author: Jenifer Carll-Tong
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Phoebe had so much fun listening to the girls' chatter that she heard little of the conversation between the adults. She did hear Mr. Speer explain to her father that most of the houses in town were built like theirs – a saltbox house – because the mining company that owned the town was from Boston where saltbox houses were popular. That's also why the streets had New England names…Commonwealth, Marlborough, Beacon. She also heard about the company pulling out of Iron Falls.
"Yep, lots of the men cleared out and left when Middleton pulled out, but a lot of us wanted to stay – or had nowhere else to go. This was home. So, we pooled our resources and reopened the mine."
"Really?" her father asked. "I've never heard of such a thing."
"Yep, happening all over the place. We first heard of it in Copper County, up near the Keweenaw peninsula. It was a struggle at first, getting it all organized, but running the mine ourselves has become right profitable for us. We've been able to bring some new boys in to work, like that boy you met on the train."
"Wendell? How did he do his first day?"
"Pretty good, I suppose. He's young, but he seems to have a good work ethic. I think he'll do just fine, and we'll treat him far better than we were treated when we first came to Iron Falls."
Mrs. Speer served the peach cobbler while Mr. Speer told the story of how the couple had come to live in Iron Falls. They were both children when their parents moved their families to the Upper Peninsula.
"Back then, company housing was nothing more than tents set up on the outskirts of town."
Phoebe shivered, imagining enduring even a single chilly Upper Peninsula evening in a tent.
"But as the mines began profiting, the company-owned houses started going up." The corner of Mr. Speer's lip twitched. "They got tired of losing good workers during the winter months. Can't expect a man, much less a wife if he has one, to stay around without four walls and a roof to call his own. That's when my father was promoted to Captain and was given the option of a company house or property. He chose the property and built this house right here."
"And these company houses, what happened to them when the company left?"
"Abandoned," Mr. Speer answered. "Anyone living in 'em got to keep 'em. That's why so many chose to stay and work the mine with us. The homes of those that left, well most of them still sit empty, but we're hoping as time goes on, we'll be able to bring more families in to live in 'em."
Phoebe partially listened to the girls' chatter and partially listened to the adults' discussion of how Iron Falls had changed in the past several years. They talked of the addition of the State Constabulary Post and Jack Simmons taking over the store. When the conversation turned to the previous pastor, however, Phoebe turned her complete attention to the adults.
"His salary came from the company, so when Middleton left, he started packing. We tried to convince him to stay, but the promise of living off tithes and offerings wasn't as appealing as heading south to a larger city church where a salary might be offered. We've been petitioning the district for a new pastor for a couple years now, but I think most folks thought Iron Falls would become a ghost town like Fayette and some of the other mining towns."
"Dr. Berger told us that he is having difficulty filling lots of churches here in the Upper Peninsula. Most new pastors find the idea of moving here too unpleasant."
"It can be rough, to be sure, but we band together in this little town. You can rest assured, Reverend, that this little congregation will keep an eye out for your daughter."
"Oh, I have no worries there. I believe God is already putting people into place to watch over her."
There was a lull in conversation and Phoebe took the opportunity to speak.
"I'm very sorry that your last pastor left you like that, with no replacement. I can't imagine a person called to ministry could treat his congregation so callously."
"Good riddance, I say," Mrs. Speer broke in. "That man was as crooked as a broken stick."
"Now, Emma," Mr. Speer scolded.
"If he wasn't a crook, then you tell me what happened to the bake sale money? It's no coincidence that it went missing when he did."
"Well, regardless," Mr. Speer began, "we have been given a fresh start with a fresh pastor. Something tells me things are about to turn around for our little church."
The night had grown quite crisp by the time Jacob Speer dropped her off at her new home, much cooler than the July evenings she had been experiencing back home in Lansing. Even her father, who never complained about the temperature, rubbed his hands up and down his arms as the buckboard rambled down the street on its way to the constabulary.
Although the sun was just beginning to set outside, inside the log-built parsonage it was quite dark. It wasn't until the moment she stepped through the door that Phoebe realized another household item the house did not possess…a lamp. Moving as quickly as she could in the waning daylight, she made her way next door to the church where she was certain she had seen a few lamps scattered along the back wall.
The church, having far more light filtering in from its tall windows, was far easier to navigate in the semi-darkness and it only took a moment to find a lamp with some oil and a near empty box of matches on a cluttered shelf of the pulpit. She lit the lamp and said a prayer of thankfulness for not having to spend the evening in darkness.
When she finally stepped out into the night air again, the sun had set, and the town had grown quite dark. There were no streetlights like Lansing, and since the street, which she learned from the Speers was named Commonwealth, was mostly businesses that were now closed, there was no light save for the lamp she carried and the nearly full moon that was beginning to make its presence known. It was an eerie feeling, being a part of such darkness, and the feeling made her hasten her steps home.
Passing between the church yard and the beginning of the parsonage property, she heard a strange sound - the yipping of animals, not unlike the sound of puppies, echoed in the distance. But, as she took another step, she heard movement in the grass near the fence of her backyard.
It wasn't a loud sound, and at first, she tried to convince herself that it was just the wind rustling the overgrown weeds, but when the sound grew closer and the swishing of the grass grew faster, she knew that something was there, and it was making its way toward her.
Clutching the lamp tightly in one hand and her skirt in the other, Phoebe raced to the front door of the cabin.
She threw open the parsonage door and fell against it on the other side. As she did, she heard the eerie, high-pitched howl of an animal she could not identify.
Her heart continued to pound heavily in her chest, sending thumps of pain into her temples as she tried to calm her breathing. In that moment, reality hit - she was hundreds of miles from home, in a town full of strangers, surrounded by wildlife she couldn't identify… and she was alone. There was no stopping the tears, and Phoebe didn't have it in her to try any longer.
She cried for several minutes, head on the table, feeling sorry for herself, wondering how she could have made a life-changing decision like this without realizing how hard it was going to be.
She could change her mind, couldn't she? Her father was still here. There was no reason why she couldn't just return to Lansing with him.
Her family would be so happy to see her come home.
And so would Stella Bowen, Phoebe thought disdainfully. And what about Mrs. Smith? She would gloat at Phoebe's departure as well.
'Is that the only reason I'm here? To prove naysayers wrong?' Phoebe wondered. She knew that it was not.
"No," she said, pounding a fist on the table. She knew that God had called her here, called her to pastor Iron Falls. Yet, merely surviving Iron Falls was proving to be a challenge in itself. She looked at her tiny fist. It looked so small, so weak, so incapable. She opened it and clasped it with her other hand, interlocking her fingers.
'Lord,' she began praying. 'I am weak. Please help me find strength in You.’
Deciding the best thing to do was to try and get some rest, she prepared for bed. She turned down the wick of the lamp and crawled into bed.
A silver streak of moonlight peeked through the flour sack curtains that covered her front windows. Phoebe climbed out of bed and pulled a curtain back, praying that whatever she had encountered earlier would not now be prowling around her front porch. There was no wildlife there. There was nothing moving outside her home except for a man on horseback riding slowly down the street.
The pale moonlight sliced through the darkness, outlining the man's uniform and campaign hat - a Michigan State Trooper on his night rounds. She felt herself begin to relax as she let the flour sack fall back into place. She was alone, but she wasn't unprotected. God was providing.
She
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