Faith and Love Found (4 page)

Of course William was in love with his two boys and could not wait to raise them in the community. He began to understand all of the benefits of having children in the community as well as how important is was to be a part of the church. William had adjusted well to living in the community and had even began working with the bishop so that he could learn the bible better.

Each evening just as Abe had done, he sat down and taught the girls bible lessons and told them stories to help them learn life lessons. He had accepted Rebecca’s girls as his own and was building a strong relationship with them. The youngest was calling him Dat and even though the other girls did not he knew that they cared for him.

Each week the entire family would gather at one of the houses and have a huge dinner. The children would play and the babies would coo as they were passed back and forth. Racheal began working with her mother making quilts so that she could earn extra money and the two of them were able to open a shop in town where many people outside of the community were able to purchase their items.

William and Elijah worked for Elijah’s father in his construction business that ensured that both families were well cared for. As the years passed Racheal had several more children filling her home with love and laughter. Rebecca and William never had any more children, but were more than happy with the ones they had been blessed with.

Each year on the anniversary of Abe’s death the family would gather at his grave and share stories about him and his life. William never objected to this because he knew that it was important for the other girls to know the type of man that their father was.

Each family took care of the other and they were full of love. The other’s in the community looked at them and knew how blessed they were. Even after everything that they had gone through they came out of it loving God and loving each other. They were the example that everyone tried to live up to.

The End

Cowboy’s Heart Rescued

Valentine watched the scenery pass by the train’s passenger window. She was almost there. A few more stops and they’d be arriving in Luke’s Pass, a small town in the middle of nowhere, but growing by the year. Dust flew by the window, kicked up by the train cars ahead of hers. Rolling hills covered in amber fields of dead grass turned into mountainous crags at the edge of the horizon. It was such a strong contrast to the green forests she was used to on the east coast.

Like so many times before on the days of her journey, she thought of home and the changes she was forced to undergo. As her eyes passed over the dirt clouds and dead vegetation, she thought of her father and the desolation he left behind when he died. A sheep herder, their ranch had done well enough. Times were tough, but they always had food. The sheep provided the wool to make any clothing they needed. It made the summers somewhat difficult to deal with, but in the winter they were the most well-prepared family in town.

The storm had taken her papa and most of the sheep. It had come so fast, there was nothing they could have done.

After that, debtors appeared from seemingly out of nowhere. It would seem her papa had a gambling issue he never let the family in on. Once he was gone, the debtors came directly to the family to collect, and they were not kind.

The little money they had was suddenly gone, and with it any hope of climbing out of the mud pit their name had been slung into. They lost the ranch, despite every able bodied person in the family finding work. It just wasn’t enough.

Valentine was the eldest of her sisters, and it was clear that in order to save the family, she had to be sold off to marriage. Letters were sent to the frontier towns, as those needed brides the most. Families meant stability, but out there in the great wild west, it was near impossible to meet anyone to settle down with. Valentine and her family found themselves a representative, and things happened so fast that her head nearly spun.

It seemed like just yesterday she had lost her papa, and now she was traveling across the country on the new railroad to meet the man she would spend the rest of her life with.

A sinking pit in her stomach took hold with every train station they passed. The money had come, as promised. Her family was saved. Valentine’s sacrifice had saved those that she loved most in the world. But at what real cost?

During the trip, she’d had time to calculate all of her summers, her winters, her springs, and her autumns. Decades spent, potentially in the company of a man she despised. Or, worse, that she loved, but despised her. The railroad tracks passed unseen under her, pressing her on to an uncertain future with a man she had never met, never spoke with.

The last few hours of the trip were spent in a growing sense of dread. When the train finally pulled into the station at Luke’s Pass, she could hardly breathe. Still, with the movement of some of the other passengers, Valentine found the strength to stand, join the others in the aisle, and fetch her baggage.

Outside the train, the arid air smelled of dirt, hay, and sweat. Steam from the train flushed the station for a few seconds before dissipating. There weren’t many getting off at Luke’s Pass, a testament to its lack of popularity, so it was that there weren’t many people waiting for those getting off.

Valentine watched the platform as those exiting at the station met up with loved ones. With each happy couple, or family reunited, she was able to eliminate possibilities as to who this “Clint” person could be. Finally her eyes fell upon a man not much older than herself, frequently checking a photo in his hand and looking at the other passengers. The breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. Could he really be the one? Tall, strong, he looked capable of wrestling a bull to the ground. A strong jaw was covered in the stubble of a man that worked too hard to worry about petty appearances. After spending her life with her father, a man that she had respected up until his death and the appearance of the debtors, she found the look quite eye-catching.

As she watched him, his eyes fell to her, the photo, and then her again. She froze, waiting to see if he would move on. Instead, he tucked the photo into the pocket inside his coat and walked towards her.

Valentine turned to face him and waited patiently. There was no way to know how he would behave, how he would treat her. He’d bought himself a bride, but that could very well have been simply because he needed someone to wash his underwear and cook his meals. Regardless, this was the life she chose in order to save her family. Valentine stood straight and proud as he approached, keeping her silence. When the man neared, he removed his hat and put it to his chest.

“Valentine?” he asked.

The sound of her own name struck home like an arrow. Her fate was sealed by her name spoken from those lips.

“Clint, I presume.”

“Pleased to meet you. Let me get your bags.”

Just like that, he walked away. All she could do was stand and watch as he asked the coachman about them, found her bags, and pulled them up. That was the greeting she got? After having traveled halfway across this nation into unknown territory, and that was the greeting he deigned to give her?

He walked by her with a nod of his head. “Come on.”

The cold greeting, the lack of any appreciation for what she had just gone through to get here told Valentine everything she needed to know.

All hope evaporated from her heart like a fledgling stream in the dead of summer.

Clint walked along the train station platform. Under one arm he had her soft bag, and in that hand he’d managed to clutch the handles of two smaller bags. He’d put her suitcase under his other arm, and dragged behind him her massive trunk. The corners dragged along the wooden planks of the platform, cutting new grooves in wood damaged by such means hundreds of times before. It became easier when they descended the small staircase on the opposite end and hit the dirt road.

Leaning the trunk on its side, he hoisted the bags overhead and dropped them into the back of his cart. It took some maneuvering to push them all to the back to make room for the trunk. Dragging it was one thing, but now he had to lift it higher than his waist to get it into the cart.

As he thought of the best way to do this, he glanced at Valentine and the still, almost bored look on her face. She stood in the shade under the eave of the train station and looked just as beautiful as her photograph. More so, since he could now clearly make out the smooth shape of her eyes and the way she held her arms and hands in a quiet, dignified way. She didn’t carry herself as some of these soft women the others had brought around. Valentine was a moving statue made of granite, and with every moment he witnessed it, he became even more taken in by her.

Shifting his focus back to the trunk he tried to grab either side. Though he could reach each handle, his arms were too outstretched to gain any leverage. When he tried lifting, it wouldn’t rise more than a couple feet from the ground. Setting it down again, he stared down at the top as he scratched the back of his neck.

Finally, he turned the chest onto its side so that it stood tall and he pushed it against the rear of the cart. Then, climbing in, he grabbed the handle and hoisted it up until it was half on. Holding it stable, he jumped down, pushed it farther in so that it wasn’t at such a risk of falling, and then turned it sideways so that it fit from one side to the other, also conveniently holding in the other bags to ensure they wouldn’t fall out during the journey back to the ranch.

Panting, he grinned at his handy work and wiped his sweating forehead with the back of his wrist. Looking over to Valentine, he hoped to see her smiling at him. Instead, her mouth was turned a bit at the sides in a sort of quietly disgruntled expression.

“Problem?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said and stepped out from the shade. “I suppose that chest needn’t see company for some time, what with the scratches just put in it.”

Clint looked back to the chest and saw the damage he’d done to the corners while dragging it along the platform and on the sides made by the gravel in the back of his cart. Looking back to her, he meant to apologize, but when he saw her about to climb into the cart, he stepped quickly toward her. “I, uh, don’t you want to see the town?”

Valentine paused what she was doing, her head dropping almost imperceptibly, and she stepped back down from the cart with a sigh. “Of course, that’d be lovely.”

Her tone suggested it would be anything but.

Clint felt his lips grow hard as his frustration with this woman mounted. It was clear she didn’t want to, but if he backed down now he’d appear wishy-washy and risk losing any respect she had left for him.

As they walked down the covered walkways, he pointed out the general store, the barbers, and the local saloon. Smaller shops had set themselves up and were performing admirably for such a small locale.

He tried to discuss the difficulty these smaller shops faced, but midway through he saw the utterly bored look on her face masked by only the thin, lacey veil of politeness. It killed his stories, and he hurried to finish them quickly lest he just stop mid-sentence and come off looking like a simpleton.

Finally, it was clear she had no wish to continue this, and he didn’t want to drag out the embarrassment any longer. So, instead he just named off the last remaining buildings at the end of town and walked back to the cart.

In his desire to escape the situation, he lost focus and walked at his normal pace. They were nearly to the cart when he realized she was no longer at his side. Stopping, he spun about looking for her. There, dozens of paces back, he saw her speaking to the Johnson boys, rival cattlemen on the property neighboring his own.

Clint walked quickly back to her, but not before he saw her smile at one of them. Actually smile! That should’ve been his smile.

She saw him approach and her posture stiffened. He didn’t know what she expected of him, but there wasn’t a thing about the situation that made him happy.

Stepping between the men, he held his arm out to Valentine. “Shall we?”

“Gentlemen,” she said as she took his arm.

They hadn’t made it two steps when one of the Johnson boys called out, “Best keep an eye on that one, Clint. She’s a find.”

Clint glanced at Valentine out of the corner of his eye and saw her strain to hide a smile. That more than anything sent a dagger to his heart.

He helped her into the cart and performed all of the gentlemanly manners expected of him, but there was nothing but silence between them for the whole ride back to the ranch.

Once there, he made little care for her chest as he pulled it from the cart and dragged it into the house. The only reason he placed the corners on a rug and used that to drag it through to her room was because he didn’t want to scratch up his floors. This time when he showed her around his ranch, he gave her no stories or funny anecdotes. After the brief tour, he left her there on the porch to settle herself in, and then unhitched the horses from the cart and brought them to the barn to clean and water them.

This had been his last chance for a loving relationship, but the cold silence that stretched between them was as clear a sign to him of things to come as the smile she gave to the Johnson boys.