Authors: Lori Copeland
Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Religious, #FICTION / Christian / Romance, #Fiction / Religious
Smiling, he took her hand, and they walked to his saddled horse standing in front of the livery. After swinging into the saddle, he finally released her hand. A cocky grin surfaced. “Why, Ruth, I could swear that’s an invitation. Am I hearing things?”
Meeting his eyes, Ruth glowered. “Of course you are. Why would I ever want to see the likes of your no-good hide ever again?”
His features gradually turned serious. “I’ll be back come spring. Will you be here?”
She lifted her chin saucily. “Guess you’ll just have to come back and find out.”
Throwing back his head, he laughed, his breath a frosty vapor in the cold mountain air. Turning his horse, he looked back over his shoulder and winked. “Did I mention I have two single brothers looking for wives?”
Her hands came to her hips. “And why should that matter to me?”
“Thought Patience and Lily might like to know. Chances are they’ll be riding with me next spring. They’re both even ornerier than me!” Nudging his horse, he rode out of town, his laughter still ringing.
Ruth turned and went into the mercantile, glancing over her shoulder.
But only once.
Two days later Glory and Jackson rode his horse up a narrow trail to the foothills. They tied the animal to a pine and swept the snow off a large flat rock to settle down and enjoy the view. The sun sparkled on the clear, wide stream and the mounds of white banks below. Pines hung heavy with new-fallen snow.
“Do you want to stay here with the other girls?” Jackson asked.
Glory sighed and shrugged. She’d been giving it a lot of thought. Patience and Mary had begged her to stay; Ruth had said she could make a new life in Denver City as well as anywhere else. Trouble was, there was only one thing she really wanted to do, and that wasn’t possible.
“I do and I don’t. I’ll miss the girls something awful when I go, but I feel restless, like I haven’t reached my destination. Does that make sense to you?”
He nodded. “To a man who’s traveled most of his life, that makes sense.”
“I suppose you’ll go back to Missouri to lead another wagon train,” she said wistfully.
“No, been thinking about giving that up.” He grinned at her playfully. “I’m tired of cross-country travel. This last trip about did me in.”
“You mean us women.”
He frowned. “It’s been real trying.”
She could see he was teasing her, but there was some truth there, too. “I know I was a terrible burden to you.”
“You exasperated me at times.” His expression sobered. “But in all fairness, I learned a lot from you.”
“From me?” she asked, amazed.
He nodded. “I watched you learn and grow, always with an open heart. It made me realize how little I had grown in the same amount of time.”
“Not you. You know everything.”
“I hardened my heart a long time ago. When a man does that, part of him stops growing.”
“You mean . . . about your mother.”
He nodded. “Being around women for all these months, seeing each of you dealing with your lives . . . I got to thinking that my mother couldn’t have been much older than you girls when my father left. I could imagine her as she must have been then. She used to say I reminded her of my pa. No wonder she was cross with me. No surprise that raising a child without help made her bitter.” He released his breath slowly. “Because of my time with you and the other women, I started to see my mother through the eyes of a grown man instead of those of a child.”
Glory laid her hand on his arm. “You’re not so bad, Jackson. We all get out of shape once in a while. The trouble starts when we refuse to do anything about it.”
He smiled, dimples flashing. “About time I make peace with the past, learn to forgive, and move on. For too many years, I let it eat at me, almost destroy me. Figure one of the first things I’ll do is visit Ma in Illinois, try to heal some old wounds.”
She looked up at him in wonder, so proud she thought she might burst.
“Used to think all women were heartless, and then the Lord sent six young women into my life who taught me what it means to care about someone. Patience, Lily, Ruth, Mary, Harper, you—you had it tough, growing up. I’m ashamed to think of how good I had it.”
She nodded. “Least you had a ma.”
He nodded. “What happened to you didn’t make you bitter. You, especially you—” his eyes softened—“faced everything with an open, willing heart.”
She sat back, thinking. He was telling her his secrets. She had a few secrets of her own. “I have my faults. For months, I was torn watching you and Ruth together, wanting the respect that you gave her, wishing I could be as wise and confident as she is, knowing in my heart that she was the perfect woman for you—”
“Ruth? You still think—” He shook his head.
“You talked to her like she is your equal . . . you depended on her . . . anyone can see why you two would be good for each other.”
He leaned over and tweaked her nose. “The reason I could share responsibilities with Ruth, the reason I could talk easily with her was because I had no romantic feelings for her. She was and is a trusted friend.” He paused to smile. “And if I don’t miss my guess, she’s a little sweet on Dylan.” He lifted his brows.
Glory shrugged. “Could be, but he sure makes her mad.”
“Love’s that way sometimes. The one who attracts you the most is the one who can get under your skin the worst.”
Glory shook her head. “I wanted so much to be like Ruth. She was everything I wasn’t—wise, serene, trusting in her belief in the Lord.”
“Seems to me you’re the spitting image of her right now.”
She thought for a moment before answering. A light came into her eyes, and she nodded. “Yes, I suppose I am . . . more than I thought possible anyway. Guess all along I felt I wasn’t good enough, been trying to earn God’s love on my own. Then I decided I couldn’t earn it at all; it’s a gift. All I had to do was reach out and take it.”
“Now you know what I mean about how you’ve grown.”
She thought about that too, realizing that so many of her prayers had been answered, gradually, without her even noticing. She turned to look at him. “Well, if you aren’t going to be a wagon master, what will you do?”
“I’ve been giving that some serious thought. After I go see my ma, I think I’ll chase my dreams, do some things I’ve always thought I would do some day. I love the ocean, and there’s a place in California I’d like to settle down, not far from Monterey Bay. I’d like to have a little farm there. You can ride on sandy beaches . . . watch the seagulls.” He reached out to brush a lock of hair off her cheek. “The sea is a sight you’d like.”
She gazed back at him with wide, trusting eyes. “I’ve never seen the ocean.”
“You could go with me.” He met her gaze evenly. “We could be partners.”
Her heart leapt at the thought. Partners? With him. “I have the money to buy a little spread. Poppy would approve of me using the gold for that. I could buy land . . . near you.”
He shook his head. “I buy the land. You keep Poppy’s gold. I was thinking more along the lines of you joining me, working the farm together.”
“Oh—” she paused to absorb that—“like partners.”
“Partners.”
Glory thought of what she’d read in the Bible, and she shook her head slowly. “I don’t rightly think we could live on the same farm. It wouldn’t be proper if . . . I mean . . .”
She was struggling, wanting to go anywhere with him, wanting to be with him, but needing it to be right. She wanted to be with Jackson more than with anyone else she’d ever known, but she’d tried to live with guilt before, and she didn’t like it.
She knew herself better now, and she didn’t want to start a new life with him that was wrong in the eyes of the Lord. That reminded her of the Bible that he had entrusted to her for the trip. It had served her well, and now he would be needing it back, since it appeared that they would be parting ways. “You’ll be wanting your Bible back.”
“I was getting around to that—”
“I haven’t written your ma yet. Ruth says she’ll help me, real soon—”
His fingers against her lips stopped her. “Pipe down. There’s a few things about me that you should know.”
She met his eyes, curious now. “Like what?”
“Well, for starters.” Leaning closer, he kissed her softly on the mouth. He tasted of cold air and sunshine. “I think you’re every bit as smart as Ruth, and in my opinion you’re prettier than Patience, and I hope by now you know I am in love with you.”
“Honest?” Her eyes searched his to be sure he wasn’t teasing, and what she saw was the warmth of love.
“I’m not prone to lying about a thing like that.” He gathered her in his arms.
She closed her eyes, absorbing his words. He loved her, but did he love her the way she loved him? Did he feel sorry for her because she had no prospects? Was he wanting her to tag along . . . as a partner . . . the way they’d been on the long journey. Traveling partners? That wouldn’t be enough, not anymore. She drew back in his arms. “Jackson, I don’t want you to feel obligated to look after me. I can go on, make a life for myself.”
“Is that what you want?” His eyes looked accepting, but she saw hurt there as well.
“Don’t take me wrong. Anyone would want to be partners with you. It’s just that all my life I’ve lived on the kindness of others.” She looked away at the distant mountain range. “Poppy found me and took me in. You and the girls found me and took me in. You see, I’ve always been a stray, found and later accepted, but never chosen. My continued existence has depended on the kindness of strangers. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” She studied his expression, looking for understanding, as her words began to falter. “It’s . . . just that . . . I need to be chosen.”
The tenderness in his eyes deepened. “What I’m hoping . . . what I’m asking is that you be my partner for life. Glory?”
“Yes?”
“I’m asking you to be my wife. If you want, I’ll get down on my knees and beg, because my life wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Marry you?” Her heart leapt with joy at the miracle of it. She thought Jackson would never marry, that he was dead set against it, and here he was, telling her that he loved her, asking her to marry him! Could it be that her silent prayer, her most cherished wish, was being answered? Her heart overflowed with joy. “Yes,” she said in a rush, “Oh yes, Jackson—” She frowned. “Wait a minute. Honest-to-goodness marry you? Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Never more sure of anything in my life.”
“Then, yes, Jackson Lincoln. I would be
proud
to marry you.”
His mouth lowered to take hers, and she succumbed to the bliss of his kiss. Moments later, she gazed up at him, seeing all the love there she’d dreamed of seeing but feared she’d never have. It occurred to her that in all fairness there were things she should remind him of. She’d hate for him to later regret having chosen her.
“Don’t forget that I’m not the best cook . . . and my sewing could be better, too.” They exchanged a long, slow kiss.
“You’re improving.”
“I’m still impulsive, even when I try not to be.”
“Oh, really,” he chuckled, “like I hadn’t noticed.”
“Patience, Mary, Harper, Lily, and Ruth are staying here until spring—”
“Smart women, the weather being what it is.” They exchanged another gratifying kiss. “I figure Dylan will be back for Ruth next spring,” he whispered against her mouth.
“That’s nice. Hopefully the others will meet someone they will fall in love with.”
“They’re all lovely girls. God has someone for each one of them.”
She drew back momentarily. “Even Harper?”
He chuckled. “Most assuredly, Harper. And I can’t wait to meet that man.”
“You know what you’re getting then,” she said, snuggling back into his arms. It was more of a statement than a question.
He winked. “No, but since it’s you, I’m willing to chance it.”
She sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist, reminding herself that he’d had four months of daily contact with her, six hundred and eighty-five miles to observe her, plenty of time to get to know her faults, and still he’d
chosen
her for his wife.
“Thank you, dear, sweet, heavenly Father,” she murmured, “for loving me so much.”
If you look for me in earnest, you will find me when you seek me.
A Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
As I write this letter, we are just three weeks away from spring. Outside my office window the birds are chirping, and the earth is starting to come alive. Oh, how I love spring and the promise of renewal!
Glory reminds me so much of myself in her childlike search for God. I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior as a young girl, but each day is a new, exciting walk in his presence.
My mother’s favorite song has a verse that says, “And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own.” As I once did, Glory grows to realize that without those walks, her life would be as barren as the frozen winter ground. When I stare out my window at an awakening world, I thank God for the assurance that “he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own.” Jesus tells us in John 15:9, “I have loved you even as the Father has loved me” (
NLT
). His promise carries us through the long winter into a bright new spring.