“I can tell you’re better. Lenora can’t wait to get you home.” Wes grinned at his friend. “I brought the mare over for you since I had to come to town to get shingles for my roof.”
Morgan squinted at him. “You finally gonna fix the roof? You have a burr under your saddle?” His unshaven face split with a wide smile. “Or might you be trying to impress somebody?”
Wes slapped his hat on his thigh as he stood up. “Now don’t go speculatin’ about things. Could be I decided it was high time to tend to chores I’ve neglected lately, that’s all.”
Morgan took a sip of water left on the bed table. “Have it your way. Just remember . . . it’s easier to catch a horse than to break one.”
Wes had left soon afterward, not wanting to tire Morgan—or endure more teasing about April. Now he saddled up Dakota and left Billy a tip for taking care of him, then went to Cynthia’s Victorian house two blocks away. It wouldn’t be long before he had supper at the boardinghouse, and the prospect of seeing April again enlivened his steps as he walked to the front door.
He stopped short when he saw movement through the curtains that covered the living room window. It looked like Jane, but that couldn’t be because she was walking across the room. He couldn’t believe his eyes, so he quietly drew closer to the window and peeked in. Sure enough, Jane was putting a record on the gramophone. He stepped back. He felt like an intruder, but what was she doing walking around? She wasn’t even using a cane. How could that be? Wes removed his hat and scratched his head, then slapped it back on. Had she been faking it all these months? He’d soon find out.
He rapped on the front door and heard Jane’s high-pitched voice cry out, “Who is it?”
“It’s just Wes, Jane.” Now what was he going to say? Tell her straight up that he caught her walking?
“Just a minute, please,” she answered.
Wes crept to the edge of the window and saw her settle herself in the wheelchair, and moments later he heard movement in the hallway. The door swung open and Jane smiled up at him.
“Come on in. Mama will be home from work in a few minutes.”
“Why don’t we just sit out here on the porch instead? It’s so nice outside.”
“Good idea. I love sitting outside, but it’s not fun by yourself.” Jane adjusted the robe over her lap. “Are we going riding tomorrow?” she asked eagerly, her freckled face looking innocent.
“That’s why I dropped by. I wanted to see if there’s been any improvement in the feeling in your legs or not.” Wes took a seat in the rocker facing Jane, anxious to hear her answer.
Jane fumbled around with her response. “Well . . . I . . . I think maybe a little tingling in my legs sometimes—”
“Really? Well, goodness, Jane! That’s great. Have you tried to stand at all with your cane?” He watched the expression on her face as she seemed to struggle with her answer while picking at the threads in her lap robe.
“Not yet . . .” She wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Why not? I should think you would be excited at the prospect of any feeling in your legs. Have you told your mother or Dr. Barnum?”
Okay, Wes, go easy on her.
“I’m not ready to say anything because I still can’t walk.”
Wes cleared his throat and plunged right in. “Jane, I saw you through the window just now as I was coming up the steps. You were
not
in your wheelchair—you were walking around the room.”
Jane’s face blanched. The silence hung between them. “You were seeing things, Wes!” she sputtered.
“Is that so? Then why do you look like the cat that ate the canary?” Wes stared at her, leaning toward her so they were at eye level.
Tears sprang up in her eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone. I’ll be in big trouble,” she pleaded.
Wes shook his head and picked up her small hands in his. “Jane, Jane . . . why are you lying about this?”
Jane shrugged. “I don’t really know. At first I really couldn’t move my legs. Then everyone started being nicer to me, noticing me. Or giving me gifts.” She paused as tears started rolling down her face. “When I realized that I could walk, I didn’t want anyone to know. I’ve never had so much attention since my father was alive.” She hiccupped. “I miss him so much, and with Mama working, I’m all alone.” Wes handed her his handkerchief, and she wiped her eyes. “Are you angry with me?”
“No, I’m not angry, just trying to understand all of this. How long were you going to let this go on?”
Jane blew her nose loudly. “I don’t know. If I tell Mama, she’s going to be so mad at me that she’ll hate me.”
“No, she won’t. She’ll be so happy that her little girl can go run and play and do things for herself. I know because once I fell off an ornery horse and broke my arm. I enjoyed all the attention from my mama, so even when it felt better, I lied and pretended I was much worse. Mama would read to me and bake special cookies for me. I didn’t have to do any of the zillion chores on the ranch before and after school that my daddy made me responsible for.” Wes laughed and sat back in his chair. “Yep! I thought I had it made until the other boys at school started playing baseball when school was out. That’s all it took for my ‘miracle.’ Suddenly I was cured! But you know what? Now that I think about it, I believe she knew all along that my arm had mended before I let on, but she protected me. If my daddy had known, he would’ve whipped me something terrible.”
Jane’s eyes were wide. “Really? Do you think my mother knows?”
Wes narrowed his eyes and answered, “I don’t know, Jane, but you have to tell her. It’s not fair to your mother. She adores you, and I’ve noticed sometimes you don’t speak kindly to her.”
Jane sat with downcast eyes. “I don’t know how I can do that. She’s gonna skin me alive.”
“I have a little idea.” He had Jane’s full attention now. “You said you were feeling more in your legs after riding. You could start with that. Tell her tonight and then let her warm up to the idea that you are getting better; then after our lessons in a couple of days, you can try standing.”
“But isn’t that lying?”
“No more than what you’ve been doing, Jane. I’m just giving you a way to tell the truth slowly. Or you could just tell the whole truth. It’s not my story, but you do have to do something about it.” There was silence between them, and a bird chirped loudly, calling to its mate.
Finally Jane said, “You aren’t going to tell Mama?” Jane looked baffled and handed him the dirty handkerchief.
“No, I won’t. You have to do that, however you decide.” Wes could see that Jane was filtering this information in her head.
“Okay.” She sighed. “I’ll decide tonight. But why are you doing this? You should be mad too, teaching me to ride and always running over here checking on me for Josh and Juliana. I’ve lied to them too, and to my friend Marilee, I guess because she has wonderful parents and she’s so pretty. She has the nicest things and prettiest dresses.”
“I’ll say a little prayer for you,” he said softly. He gave her shoulder an affectionate pat, then stood. “I’ve got to leave now. Don’t compare what you have to what Marilee has, Jane. Things are nice to own, but they don’t always mean you’ll be happy.” He started down the steps and stopped next to Dakota. “If you want, tell your mother that I dropped by and we’ll do a lesson on Wednesday. Maybe April can join us.”
“Wes, thanks for being my friend,” Jane said.
Leather squeaked as he pulled himself into the saddle and gathered the reins. Wes smiled at the girl. “You have many friends, Jane. All you have to do is look around you.”
April was anxious to get to the depot and retrieve her money. It tickled her that Morgan had the foresight not to use the strongbox. Thanks to him, her money as well as the bank’s was safe. She walked a little slower than usual with Miss Margaret with her, but April enjoyed her company. “I really like Lenora,” she commented.
“Oh, so do I. She’s been so good for Morgan,” Miss Margaret agreed.
“It’s unfortunate that she’s been away so long,” April said as they drew closer to the stage depot. She could see Billy up ahead sweeping off the waiting area.
“Yes, it is. Sometimes we have no control over the hardships of life. We just have to be able to deal with them with the Lord’s help.”
“Mmm, perhaps you’re right, Miss Margaret. I’ve been trying to talk to Him about things that I’ve been wrestling with, and I think it’s helping me.”
As they strolled along, April admired the trees. “Have you noticed the leaves are just beginning to change?”
“I have indeed. Our nights are getting colder too. I just love autumn. It’s a time of reflection for me when I see the dazzling colors of fall, before the trees lie dormant and winter sets in and the leaves turn to dust. Much like Leon will.” Her voice was reverent.
April cast a glance at the tiny lady with curiosity. “Do you think that even if we turn into dust, we’ll go to heaven?”
Miss Margaret stopped on the sidewalk, placing both hands on her cane. “Indeed I do, April. Scripture says believe on the Lord and you
shall
—not
might
—be saved. I don’t know whether or not Leon believed in the Lord, but I hope so. He did show up from time to time at church, and none of the Lord’s words are ever wasted. But we can’t always know someone’s heart based on whether they’re in church every Sabbath.” She sighed deeply. “When you have time, look up 1 Thessalonians. I believe it’s in chapter 4 that Scripture tells us the Lord will descend from heaven one day. Those who’ve passed on and those who are still alive and believe in the Lord will be taken up to heaven.” Miss Margaret looked wistfully up at the blue sky, and April followed her gaze. “I long for heaven when I can be with my dear, dear husband. But I know that right now my work on earth isn’t done.”
April was quiet a moment. “I wish that everyone had that confidence in their hearts.”
“Me too, April. It’s pride that keeps men from humbling themselves to their Creator. But we get the opportunity to show that assurance every time we share with people who are hurting or hungry. It’s mainly taking our focus off ourselves and placing it on how we can best live out our faith in love.”
“Miss Margaret, I guess you’ve lived long enough to learn how to figure people out from experience. You’ve taught me so much in the short time I’ve been here. About life and how to give consideration for others before I reach my own conclusions.”
“And you, my dear girl, are making me proud to be looking after you while Josh is gone.”
April marveled how she was able to be her true self with Miss Margaret. She surely would miss her when she returned to Colorado.
They continued their walk in companionable silence. Billy stopped sweeping to greet them. “Two of my favorite ladies!” He beamed, leaning against his broom handle.
“Now where’d you learn such flattery, Billy?” Miss Margaret teased.
Billy grinned and shuffled toward the door to open it for them. “From Wes,” he said with a lopsided smile.
“Of course!” April rolled her eyes at him and grinned.
“Follow me inside and I’ll go get Will for you. He figured you’d be coming once you found out what Morgan did with the money. That was a smart idea. I heard that if it hadn’t been for you, Morgan might even be dead by now.”
April shook her head. “I hardly think that’s true, Billy. I just drove the stagecoach. You could have done it yourself.”
The two ladies entered the office area, and Will walked over. “Miss April,” he said, handing her the saddlebags that she’d taken on the trip. “There’s a nice round hole right through one of your bags, which probably saved Morgan’s life, the doctor said. He’d draped it across his shoulder on the ride, and the bullet went right through the bag then ricocheted upward into his shoulder instead of his heart.”
“Oh my goodness!” April took the saddlebags from him and reached inside one of them. She pulled out her Bible and ran her hand over the smooth leather. There was a gaping hole in the dead center of the “H” in the words “Holy Bible.” A slight shiver went down her spine as she thought about the danger they’d been in. “God protected him,” she whispered.
“He sure did, but He used you to do it, and we must be grateful,” Miss Margaret said, touching April on the sleeve. Turning to Will, she asked, “Who’s going to drive the stage while Morgan heals?”
“I’m not sure. For now tickets have been suspended, since we’ve lost a good driver and Morgan’s laid up.” Will’s face saddened, then he looked at April. “Unless, of course, you want to drive the stagecoach?”
“I could do it!” Billy’s eyes were wide with enthusiasm. “But not alone.”
April smiled affectionately at her young friend. “I’m not sure I want to.” April shoved the Bible back inside and looked through the other bag. It was empty, so she threw it over her shoulder. “Right now, I’m looking for the money that was probably in this bag, Will.”
Will raised up his hand. “Just a moment.” He scurried back behind the ticket counter and handed her the envelope of money. “Here ya go, Miss April. I checked the manifesto for the money and counted yours out. I took the rest of the deposit to theFer–gus Bank. I’m sure they’d want our ‘hero’ to be paid. It’s all been squared away.” He paused and scratched his head. “Shoot! There ought to be a reward coming.”