Through Thorny Ways

Hunt weaves a compelling family drama of a 1920s home renovation that sends a brother and sister on a course to discover and confront the painful skeletons in their own closets—and those of their ancestors. Filled with complex characters and buried secrets, Through Thorny Ways is a beautiful story of true love, sacrifice, and healing that keeps the pages flying!—Jamie Ogle, author of Of Love and TreasonThis book has a bit of everything: mystery, intrigue, romance, family dynamics, and it’s impossible to put down! If you love learning about history and immersing yourself in a satisfying love story (perhaps with a tissue box at the ready!), Hunt’s writing will not disappoint. Through Thorny Ways is a beautiful tale of redemption and healing found in Christ through the prayer and support of the fellowship of believers. It is both refreshing and essential to see stories like this one—where abuse and hurt within the Church are acknowledged and brought to the light, yet where the gift of Church that Jesus gives to each of us is not discounted or minimized. —Christa Petzold, author of Gathered by Christ: The Overlooked Gift of Church and Male & Female: Embracing Your Role in God's Design. Through Thorny WaysJennifer Q. HuntBlue Springs Books Copyright © 2023 Jennifer Q. HuntAll rights reserved.No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.ISBN-13: 9798386945664Printed in the United States of AmericaAny resemblance of the fictional characters to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.All Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.Shakespeare's Plays, Sonnets and Poems from The Folger Shakespeare. Retrieved from https://folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/all-works.All hymns cited in the Public Domain. Cover design by Kelsey Gietl (kelseygietl.com)Cover photos used under free license by Unsplash: "Oak Alley Plantation" by Ian Wagg, "Vienna, Austria Roses" by Victor Malyushev, "Floral Wallpaper" by Annie Spratt. For all who have chosen to disentangle rather than deconstruct;To uplift the Church's sanctity rather than her scandals;To look to Jesus when spiritual leaders disappoint;Who have seen the ugliest parts of the Bride, but believe her beautiful Bridegroom will make all things new;To all who have seen the Word twisted, yet relied on the Spirit to make His Sword straight and allowed it to cut away all that is sinful in their own souls—To you, known and unknown, this book is gratefully dedicated. PrologueThursday, June 19, 1919Atlanta, GeorgiaHer brother Davis was finally coming home, but now she had to figure out a way to tell him his wife had gone mad.Arilee Rutledge tied little Macy’s bonnet under her chin, a sweet cotton and lace creation with satin ribbons. A few of her niece’s golden curls peeped out. A prettier baby Arilee had never seen; the child ought to have some compensation in her appearance for having a mother locked up at the State Hospital in Milledgeville.Arilee knew she should have written to Davis about it. But she couldn’t bring herself to put down the whole awful narrative on paper. Instead, she wrote truthfully that Muriel hadn’t been well since childbirth and couldn’t write to him yet herself. He wrote back asking questions she ignored, their answers too painful on top of all the other losses.“Aunt Ari, I’m ready!” Nathaniel half-ran, half-tumbled into her room. He looked charming in his little sailor suit and straw hat covering golden hair. His big brown eyes had flecks of gold in them too. “Is it time to find Daddy?”“It’s time, Nat.” Glancing in the mirror, she set her own hat—white straw with a wide blue ribbon—firmly over her nut-brown hair done up in a soft chignon. The humidity of the warm evening made the wisps about her face curl. Her face had tanned a little from the days she had wrestled with the overgrowth by the front porch; the scar across her chin stood out more clearly, a white line dividing her life from the carefree days of her childhood to the burdens of adulthood.“Your daddy will be happy to see what a great big boy you’ve become.”“I’m four.”“Yes, you are quite grown up now. But it will be crowded at the train station. You must hold my hand to keep me safe, all right?”“I will.” He bounded out of the room and down the stairs. She picked up Macy from the bed, settled the twelve-month-old on her hip, and checked her purse for trolley fare.The real reason she hadn’t written to Davis about Muriel was an unreasonable terror that if he knew the truth, her older brother would never return. He didn’t really know his children. Macy had been conceived on a quick leave before the army had sent Davis overseas; Nathaniel had been hardly more than a baby when his father joined the service.Davis had to return.They’d been abandoned by or bereaved of everyone else but Jewel.And Aunt Odessa.Arilee poked her head into the elderly spinster’s room. The invalid-when-she-wanted-to-be lay in the bed, propped up by perfectly crisp linen-cased pillows. The heavy drapes were drawn shut against the late afternoon sun, and a candle on the bedside table provided a meager light.“Come in, girl,” she demanded. Aunt Odessa surveyed her from head to toe. “You really think your brother will show up?”“Of course.”“I’ll not have a man living in this house.”Arilee gritted her teeth. “Think how good it would be to have help with the yard work and fixing up the place.”“He won’t touch my house.” Her shriek made Arilee shiver. “I’ll not have him tearing things up, trying to burn the place down with the devil’s wires.”“Yes, God forbid we have light in the evening and a refrigerator to keep our food from spoiling,” Arilee muttered, shifting Macy to her other hip. To Aunt Odessa she said, “Davis could offer protection.”“He’s a soldier. He has blood on his hands and filth in his soul. No man will ever