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Authors: Becky Lower
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place where Joseph had been standing. He was a reed-thin, lanky boy just coming into manhood. His voice was deep, giving promise of the man he was to become, but for now, Temperance thought he resembled the frightened little boy she once rescued from some unruly playmates.
To his credit, he read The Lord’s Prayer from his own scuffed and worn bible without stumbling over the words. Then Temperance walked to the foot of the grave and gazed at all the people who were here for this solemn ceremony. She was surprised, having only been in town a few months, to see this many people in attendance as they buried the patriarch of the Jones household. She smiled a bit tremulously at them.
“My da loved his Lord above all else, so I know he’s walking hand in hand with Him at this moment, and looking down on these somber proceedings with all the love he had in his heart for each of us. I want to honor his time here on earth by reciting one of his favorites. It is the Psalm of David.”
She took a deep breath and began, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” Suddenly, tears sprang into her eyes and she was unable to continue. She swallowed hard and struggled for control.
“He … He … ” To her horror, she couldn’t finish the psalm.
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.” A voice came low and calm from beside her. She gazed up through her blurry tears to see Basil Fitzpatrick standing alongside her. He smiled at her and took her hand before his gaze went to Samuel Jones. “He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness, for his name’s sake.”
Temperance found her voice again, and joined Basil as they recited her father’s favorite words to him.
Soon, the ceremony drew to a close. Each person at the gravesite took a handful of the sweet-smelling earth and let it fall on top of the birch bark. An offering of food and water was placed beside the grave, and would be replenished by Mary or her sons for the next four days, to help nourish Samuel’s soul as he journeyed to the afterlife. Temperance thought her father would be well pleased with the ceremony.
• • •
“Thank you, Mr. Fitzpatrick, for coming to my aid. I was appalled when I lost my way through the psalm.” Temperance stood beside him still. He finally released her hand, although he did so with great reluctance.
“You didn’t lose your way. You were only overcome with the emotion of it all. The first Indian burial ceremony I attended choked me up, too, and it wasn’t for anyone in my family. This was for your father, so it’s understandable.”
“Nonetheless, thank you. It seems as if all you’ve done since we arrived in town is to come to our aid. When we relay the tale to our children and grandchildren about our migration West, your name will be a part of our story. As will this ceremony. It was lovely, and moving.”
Basil rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. He had no wish to become part of the Jones family lore. But what role did he want? Temperance was right. He had been helping the family ever since they arrived in town. He told himself it was because they reminded him of his own large family back in New York, but was he really merely trying to tamp down the feelings of homesickness? Or was it something more?
Ever since he’d given into temptation and kissed her last night, he wasn’t so sure his feelings towards her family were as good-hearted and untainted as they’d both thought. Her kisses were sweet and innocent, the taste of her was pure, her mouth soft and gentle. When was the last time he’d kissed an innocent? He couldn’t remember.
And there was good reason why it was such a rarity. He gnashed his teeth together as he reminded himself good, pure, innocent women such as Temperance were not to be toyed with. They were even more dangerous than the saloon girls and dance hall ladies. They were the kind you marry and take home to meet your mother. He was nowhere near ready to be tied to only one woman. Maybe
To his credit, he read The Lord’s Prayer from his own scuffed and worn bible without stumbling over the words. Then Temperance walked to the foot of the grave and gazed at all the people who were here for this solemn ceremony. She was surprised, having only been in town a few months, to see this many people in attendance as they buried the patriarch of the Jones household. She smiled a bit tremulously at them.
“My da loved his Lord above all else, so I know he’s walking hand in hand with Him at this moment, and looking down on these somber proceedings with all the love he had in his heart for each of us. I want to honor his time here on earth by reciting one of his favorites. It is the Psalm of David.”
She took a deep breath and began, “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” Suddenly, tears sprang into her eyes and she was unable to continue. She swallowed hard and struggled for control.
“He … He … ” To her horror, she couldn’t finish the psalm.
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.” A voice came low and calm from beside her. She gazed up through her blurry tears to see Basil Fitzpatrick standing alongside her. He smiled at her and took her hand before his gaze went to Samuel Jones. “He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness, for his name’s sake.”
Temperance found her voice again, and joined Basil as they recited her father’s favorite words to him.
Soon, the ceremony drew to a close. Each person at the gravesite took a handful of the sweet-smelling earth and let it fall on top of the birch bark. An offering of food and water was placed beside the grave, and would be replenished by Mary or her sons for the next four days, to help nourish Samuel’s soul as he journeyed to the afterlife. Temperance thought her father would be well pleased with the ceremony.
• • •
“Thank you, Mr. Fitzpatrick, for coming to my aid. I was appalled when I lost my way through the psalm.” Temperance stood beside him still. He finally released her hand, although he did so with great reluctance.
“You didn’t lose your way. You were only overcome with the emotion of it all. The first Indian burial ceremony I attended choked me up, too, and it wasn’t for anyone in my family. This was for your father, so it’s understandable.”
“Nonetheless, thank you. It seems as if all you’ve done since we arrived in town is to come to our aid. When we relay the tale to our children and grandchildren about our migration West, your name will be a part of our story. As will this ceremony. It was lovely, and moving.”
Basil rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. He had no wish to become part of the Jones family lore. But what role did he want? Temperance was right. He had been helping the family ever since they arrived in town. He told himself it was because they reminded him of his own large family back in New York, but was he really merely trying to tamp down the feelings of homesickness? Or was it something more?
Ever since he’d given into temptation and kissed her last night, he wasn’t so sure his feelings towards her family were as good-hearted and untainted as they’d both thought. Her kisses were sweet and innocent, the taste of her was pure, her mouth soft and gentle. When was the last time he’d kissed an innocent? He couldn’t remember.
And there was good reason why it was such a rarity. He gnashed his teeth together as he reminded himself good, pure, innocent women such as Temperance were not to be toyed with. They were even more dangerous than the saloon girls and dance hall ladies. They were the kind you marry and take home to meet your mother. He was nowhere near ready to be tied to only one woman. Maybe
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