Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana (19 page)

After their quick trip back to Lonesome Prairie for supplies, Isaac and Jim had chosen to travel to Great Falls in search of Mabelina. On the way Isaac couldn’t help pondering the sincere and profound questions Julia had asked as the two sat on the porch after the others retired for the night—at a strangely early hour.

Isaac knew his family’s feigned drowsiness was part of Miriam and Elizabeth’s scheme to give him and Julia a chance to get to know each other. Isaac rolled his eyes at his sisters’ plotting, even though they weren’t there to receive the gesture.

The lantern light had accentuated Julia’s smooth cheeks and sparkling eyes. But, of course, he’d overlooked these details. The only reason he’d allowed himself to linger with her was because he’d done so in the capacity of a parson. One question after another seemed to flow from the young woman’s heart.
Really
, he told himself,
if a soul has such a hunger to learn about the truths of the Bible, how could I, a minister, refuse?

He didn’t deny he enjoyed the moments with her, but he always relished digging into passages, uncovering the depth of meaning layered in the Word.

But now he had a more pressing issue before him—finding Mabelina. Great Falls was his first stop mostly because it was the biggest town in the area—brimming with stores, Chinese laundries, and new family homes—and would be the perfect place for Mabelina to hide. Also, he knew that Milo’s daughters were nearby at boarding school just south of Great Falls. Even though he hadn’t told Aponi his plan, he knew she’d be overjoyed to know he’d checked in on her girls.

“You ask around the businesses on Main Street,” Isaac told Jim.

“And you?” Jim asked, although Isaac could tell from his understanding gaze that he already guessed where the parson would be.

“I’m going to check on some of the little lambs from my flock. Just because they’re far from the fold doesn’t mean they don’t need tending toward.”

Jim nodded and turned his horse to town. Isaac kicked his heels against Virginia, motioning for her to move down one of the dusty roads to the small church and school south of Great Falls.

As he rode up to the school, he noticed a group of children working in the garden. They lifted their faces to him and smiled. Isaac waved. He didn’t spot any of Milo and Aponi’s daughters.

He dismounted from Virginia and tied her to the hitching post out front—more to keep the children from running away with her than to prevent his horse from wandering off. A short nun in a spotless habit approached, striding toward him. Isaac didn’t remember seeing this nun before, but he knew that nuns often moved in and out of the boarding schools, following the call of the greatest need.

“Hello there.” The sister greeted him with a quick smile. “I can see from your hat you’re a parson. What can I do for you today?”

Isaac removed his hat and brushed back his hair with his fingers.

“I was looking for the daughters of a dear friend. They are Indian girls. Well, half-Indian. Their last name is Godfrey.”

The nun mouthed the name and then the color drained from her face. “Oh yes, the Godfrey girls. They are busy at the moment. Perhaps you can come back in an hour or so? They can be ready for a visitor then.” The woman turned and hurried back toward the residential quarters.

Isaac didn’t like the look on the woman’s face or appreciate her tone. She’d spoken to him as if he were one of her disobedient students and had dismissed him without waiting for his response. Isaac replaced his hat and then followed the woman. He quickened his steps to catch up, but she didn’t know he was behind her until she stepped through the door to the building and he caught the door, holding it open for her.

“Actually, I hope to be heading out in an hour. It would be best for me to see them now.” Through the doorway to the kitchen, he spotted a black-haired girl carrying a big pot to the stove. He recognized her right away.
Mary.

Isaac hurried forward, not caring what the nun thought. He entered the kitchen and spotted all six girls.

Mary lifted her head after setting the pot down, and her jaw dropped open as she spotted him. “Parson Ike?”

At hearing his name, the other girls spun around toward the door. Even little Genevieve dropped the brush she’d been using to scrub the floor. “Parson!” She rose from where she’d been kneeling and ran to him, arms outstretched.

“Parson!” The other girls joined her, circling him. He placed a soft kiss on each forehead. “Girls, it’s so good to see you.” He forced a smile, attempting to hide his anger at seeing them doing hard labor in the heat of the day while the other children enjoyed fresh air.

“Girls, you are working so hard. Is today your day in the kitchen?” he asked, giving the nuns the benefit of the doubt.

“Oh no, Parson, we work in here every day.” Little Genevieve stared up at him with large brown eyes.

“Yes, we must work for our tuition, isn’t that right, Sister?” Alice eyed the nun.

“Well, unfortunately, yes, that is the truth. Perhaps the parson and I can talk about this elsewhere?” She clapped her hands together. “And I have an idea. After we talk, I’ll get some of the other girls to take your places—just for this afternoon. It would be lovely for you to visit with the parson, don’t you think?”

Isaac stepped back from the girls’ embraces. His heart ached as if it had been set upon a chopping block and split for kindling. “I’ll be right back, girls. Do as the good sister has said.”

The girls nodded and obeyed, setting to work with determination. They reminded him so much of Aponi. She always thought of others, never complaining of her own plight. Even at Milo’s funeral she’d greeted everyone, wishing them safe travels home, extending her appreciation for making the trip.

The girls reminded him of Milo, too. Even though they greatly resembled their mother, like their father, their eyes seemed to gaze beyond the dark tasks of the present toward a brighter future.

The nun scurried back out the door, and Isaac followed her. He held his tongue, waiting for the explanation, hoping it was a good one.

“The Godfrey girls, they are some of the best in our class. They are far more educated than most of the other Indians. They—” Isaac held up a hand, stopping her words. “They don’t need to be compared to the other Indians. They are children. They should be schooled like all the other children. With no distinction.”

“Yes, of course,” the woman answered, even though Isaac could see she didn’t agree.

“Is that why they are in the hot kitchen, cooking and cleaning? Because they’re Indians, half-breeds?”

“No, of course not. All the children, no matter their race and heritage, have chores to perform here. We believe children must gain a good work ethic in addition to book learning. The Godfrey girls work extra in the kitchen in order to pay for their tuition. It was an agreement I made with their brother, Mr. Boyle. He said he had only enough money for a quarter of their tuition. We agreed the girls could work off the rest. They have shown themselves to be excellent workers—and I think we’re being more than fair, given the circumstances.”

The heat of anger charged across Isaac’s chest. Yet his anger was no longer directed at the nun or the school, but at Warren Boyle. Isaac knew Milo would’ve put away enough money for their unforeseen future. Warren had enough money to properly pay for the girls’ schooling—no doubt. Unless…

Unless there was trouble with Milo’s estate. Troubles no one knew about. The anger cooled.

“So how much will it be?”

“Excuse me?” The woman peered up at him from under her habit.

“The cost—for their schooling. If I were to pay for the next couple of months, how much would it be?” He pulled out his money pouch from under his shirt.

The nun mentioned a price.

“Is that for all the girls?”

The nun nodded.

“And does that mean they will be treated like the other children—not have to work in the kitchen?”

“They’ll still have to work, but no, not in the kitchen.”

Isaac pulled the money out—most of what he had left—and placed it in the woman’s hands. “Thank you for housing and schooling them, Sister. I know this will ensure you care for them just as I would—or better yet, as their mother would.” He replaced his money pouch.
Thank You, Lord, for providing for these girls. I know You will provide for my additional needs.

He turned back to the building, ready to spend time with the girls. He’d have a talk with Warren when he returned, but for now he was grateful the girls would be taken care of.

“I think I’ll go see them now. Maybe we’ll take a walk.” He strode toward the building.

The nun hurried beside him. “Yes, Parson, that is fine, but I only have one question.”

Isaac paused and forced a smile, reminding himself it wasn’t this nun’s fault. In fact, if anything, he should thank her for finding a way to allow the girls to stay here. “Yes, Sister, what is the question?”

“This money cares for their schooling and boarding for a few months…but who will take care of the bill after that?”

Isaac gazed at the woman as they walked. “Don’t worry, Sister. By that time the girls will be returning home.” Isaac spoke with more confidence than he felt. “We will have a school in Lonesome Prairie they can attend.”

A steamboat whistle accompanied Isaac’s final “amen” as he finished his closing prayer outside the depot in Fort Benton two weeks later. Around him, the crowd spread out, and Isaac eyed the boat casting a short shadow across the soft blue Missouri River as it cruised to its final stop. On deck, a banjo player picked “Oh! Susanna.”

Isaac and Jim had searched Great Falls and the surrounding townships for two weeks, but they’d paused their hunt for yet another jaunt home to Lonesome Prairie. Isaac wasn’t sure why, but on this trip he seemed to forget vital supplies like a flighty squirrel losing its acorns.

On his latest return home, Miriam and Elizabeth were less than subtle—far less—about their attempts to give Isaac and Julia time to talk. They’d pushed them to fetch water from the coulee, no doubt so they could take a romantic sunset stroll. But Isaac didn’t mind anymore. In fact, he’d hoped to have another chance to speak with her—about the Bible, of course.

Isaac glanced out at the finely attired Eastern passengers debarking the steamship and strolling toward the Grand Central Hotel. After that, they’d spend their days seeking adventure in the “wild frontier” and most likely be surprised—like the pretty Julia Cavanaugh had been—that the world of Indians, soldiers, and homesteaders wasn’t as exhilarating as it was in those dime novels. While it was true that there were moments of excitement on the frontier, most of the people he knew didn’t have time for adventure. They worked hard and led quiet lives.

Isaac took in a breath as the breeze caused his shirtsleeves to flutter, and his mind traced its way back to Julia. He’d grown fond of her over the last weeks, not only during the hours they’d conversed over biblical issues—which inevitably led to candid personal revelations as well—but even as she occupied his thoughts. And he did seem to mull over her more than his other parishioners. He knew it was because he was attracted to her; he couldn’t deny that. But as a minister, he’d learned to rein in his personal feelings for the sake of the flock.

Isaac glanced at a dandelion seedling tossed in the wind. A touch of contentment surged through him as he indulged himself in a moment of pondering Julia’s character.

When he’d first met her, she’d seemed to possess a real faith even though she knew so little. But like a thirsty lamb, she’d drunk up the bits of the living water he’d shared, and gone further still. She studied and read in his absence and was even prepared with questions when he returned. The opportunity to feed a hungry soul soaked Isaac in the joy of fulfilling one’s purpose in life. And if he was truthful, she’d encouraged his own faith more than once. That was a blessing he hadn’t expected.

Isaac squelched the thoughts of Julia, knowing too much could lead him to dangerous territory. He instead remembered the morning he first arrived at this very dock, six years ago. He’d ambled off the boat and, with trembling hands and voice, preached his first sermon on the front porch of the town’s general store to just two listeners—Milo being one of them. God had grown the church mightily since then, though not with steeples or parsonages. Isaac’s eyes moved over the two dozen folks milling about. He’d known many since those early days, having baptized a good lot of them.

The Lord had built the church—Isaac would take no credit for that—with living stones, a people He called His own. Those saints He grew, refined, blessed, and molded each day. Yet sometimes Isaac just wished the refining happened a little quicker.

“Welp, Parson Ike,” Giant Jim said, coming alongside. “’Twas another good sermon. Don’t know how you do it day after day.”

Isaac joined him, and they moseyed under the trees along the riverfront. Up ahead, a row of tables had been set up for a picnic. Isaac sniffed the air, smiling at the scent of buffalo meat roasting on the two large firepits. His stomach rumbled. “Well, I’ll tell you, I read the Bible a lot,” he answered Jim. “And do a lot of praying.”