California Romance (46 page)

Josh recalled the bitter scene that followed, but warmed at the memory of how Edward had defended him.

“Don’t get upset, Mother,” he’d said. “The last I heard, the ministry was still a respectable profession.” Edward flashed the winning smile that seldom failed to get him what he wanted. “Think how proud you’ll be when the
San Francisco Chronicle
reports, ‘Reverend Joshua Stanhope, son of Charles and Letitia Stanhope, continues to fill the pews of First Church, or Bayview Christian, or one of the other leading churches with his powerful preaching and persuasive personality.’”

Mother hadn’t been convinced. “But what will our friends think?”

“Letitia, our friends will be happy for us or kind enough to mind their own business,” Father had said. “I’m proud that one of our sons is choosing to follow his heart.”

Mother immediately ruffled her feathers on Edward’s behalf. “Don’t be so judgmental, Charles. Edward’s music is just as important as Joshua wanting to preach.”

“Hardly.” Edward stood and stretched. “It might be different if I thought God wanted me to do something important with my music.”

“You may find out if you take the time to listen,” Josh told him. “Remember what happened to the man in the Bible who buried his talent?”

“Of course I remember. God called him a wicked and slothful servant.” Edward grinned and clasped his hands behind his head. “I won’t forget what our Sunday school teacher said when I asked her to explain
slothful.”
He pursed his lips and raised his voice to a high treble. “‘A sloth is one of the ugliest animals ever created and by far the laziest.’”

The corners of Mother’s mouth turned down. “You aren’t slothful. You just haven’t decided what you want to do with your life. It’s probably best, considering what Joshua is planning.”

Edward shrugged. “Let him go ahead and become a preacher. If he doesn’t like it, he can always be something else.” Mischief danced in his eyes. “Maybe someday Josh can convert me.”

Josh recoiled, as he always did when his brother treated eternal issues lightly. “Only God can do that.”

“I know.”

But after the family meeting ended, Edward had gone to his brother’s room. “Sorry for being flippant, old man. The truth is, we’re so much alike, I’m afraid if I ever get serious about religion, God might want more of me than I can give.” He strode off, leaving Josh speechless and praying for his unpredictable twin.

Josh’s thoughts returned to the present. Still on his knees, he sought out his heavenly Father. “Lord, give me a quiet spirit and the right words when I go downstairs. The idea of my going to Madera will send my family into turmoil. Mother found it nearly impossible to swallow when I became a minister. If You call me to preach to cowboys and ranchers, she’ll feel it’s beyond the pale.”

A scripture that had sustained Josh in his revolt nine years earlier rushed into his mind:
“Then said Jesus unto his disciples, If any man will come after me
,
let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.”

Did “taking up his cross and following” mean losing Mother and possibly Edward? Dad might not agree with his son’s decision, but he would never forsake him. Neither would God. Taking a deep breath, Josh got to his feet and slowly went downstairs.

Mother’s first words showed she was primed for battle. “What did you mean about someone in Madera wanting you? Who is this person? How dare he approach you?” She broke her staccato questions to add, “I presume it’s a he. Or is some brazen girl or woman attempting to lure you to that godforsaken place?”

Josh quelled the desire to laugh. “Not a girl or woman. A man I once helped.”

Mother pounced. “Helped? Who? How? When? Where? Why do I know nothing of this?” She sniffed. “Really, Joshua, sometimes you are so quixotic. Helping a person doesn’t give him a claim on you. Why can’t you be more like Edward?”

Josh winced. If only Mother would accept him as he was. “Why are you getting upset over something that may never happen? The letter simply asks if I’d be willing to come to Madera. The pastor of the church is leaving, and—”

“Go to Madera?” Mother shrilled. “Leave San Francisco and Bayview Christian? Is this person a lunatic?”

Josh’s hopes of making her understand died aborning. “No.” What would she think if he repeated parts of Red’s letter, words that had indelibly etched themselves into his brain:
“Will you come to Madera? We need you. Bad.”

How Mother and Edward would jeer! The minister of the most prestigious church in San Francisco summoned to a cow town by an illiterate ne’er-do-well? It was almost more than even Josh could comprehend, yet a flutter of anticipation stirred inside him. What if God was using Red Fallon to carry out His purposes in Madera—and in Josh’s life?

The family meeting continued amid protests from his mother that cut Josh to the heart. She ended with a final thrust. “We had this discussion nine years ago, Joshua. I gave in to your whims. I admit things have turned out better than I ever expected. However, if you even consider this outrageous proposition, there will be consequences.” She swept out of the library.

When Josh closed his bedroom door for the night, he couldn’t shut out the feeling that he stood at a crossroads. For the second time that day, he knelt beside his bed. “Father, my heart feels heavy enough to crush my chest. Please give me peace.” He waited. Instead of peace, conviction came. He owed it to God to take Red’s plea seriously.

“Lord, I need to know if this is Your will. It means bucking Mother, but I’ll contact Red and see if the church board wants me to come preach. If they do, I’ll arrange for a leave of absence and go to Madera…then leave the future in Your hands.”

Once in bed, Josh stared out his open window at the starless sky until his vision blurred. He fell asleep with Red’s words echoing in his heart.

“We need you. Bad.”

How long had it been since anyone at Bayview Christian had spoken those words?

June 1892
Madera, California

E
llie halted her paint mare beneath a huge oak tree on the wide promontory overlooking the Diamond S Ranch. She slid from the saddle and dropped the reins. Trained to being ground tied, Calico nosed Ellie’s shoulder then found a sparse patch of grass and began to graze. Ellie walked to the large boulder where she had spent many happy hours and sat down. Her heart swelled. She never tired of the view. She never would. Not if she lived on the ranch seventy years instead of the seven she’d already been there.

She flung off her sombrero and ran a hand through her hair. Thank goodness it had finally grown long enough to turn under at the nape of her neck! Ellie remembered sobbing when she recovered enough from pneumonia to comprehend she’d been shorn like a lamb.

“Young lady, you don’t realize how sick you’ve been. Sick and out of your head a lot of the time,” Doc Brown had told her. “Any doctor worth his salt orders long, heavy hair to be cut in severe cases of pneumonia.”

His explanation didn’t console Ellie for losing her dark tresses. “I don’t see how cutting a person’s hair can help.”

“Well, it does,” he said. “High fever and the hair’s weight sap a patient’s energy.” Doc’s voice softened. “We were doing everything we could to save your life, Ellie.”

Now she whispered, “Thank You, Lord, for sparing me. I’m just happy to be alive.” She turned her attention to her surroundings. Could any spot on earth be lovelier? The rocky outcropping high above the Sterling ranch offered a bird’s-eye view of rangeland, vineyards, orchards, and the San Joaquin River. Nothing disturbed Ellie’s solitude except an eagle circling in the sky and the bawling of cattle far below. She laughed and tried to pick out Timmy from among the riders tending the herd. “Oops. He’s Tim, not Timmy now,” she told Calico. No wonder. At fifteen, her brother topped her five-foot-six inches by half a foot.

Ellie flung her arms to the sky, heart bursting with joy. “Thank You, God!” she cried, feeling as free as the eagle above her. She’d never dreamed she could be this happy. She reveled in the moment, wishing she could hug it to her heart and keep it there forever. But when a cloud drifted across the sun and cast a shadow over the smiling land, she stared unseeingly into the valley.

“Seven years, Lord. So much has happened! And much more to come.” She drew her knees to her chest and laughed. “Including the fiesta.” Excitement spurted through her. Needing someone with whom to share her excitement, Ellie glanced at Calico. Long experience had shown the mare to be a safe confidante.

“Folks from Madera and the neighboring ranches will come this afternoon for games and races and a barbecue supper.”

Calico stopped grazing and looked mildly interested. Ellie continued.

“It’s so hard to believe all the hustle and bustle at the ranch is for me! It’s Solita’s doing, you know.” She pitured the Sterlings’ diminutive Mexican housekeeper. Solita had planted her hands on her apron-covered hips in the spotless ranch house kitchen and announced in a voice that brooked no opposition, “Senorita Ellie will only have one eighteenth birthday. We will make una gran fiesta for her, Senor Mateo.”

Ellie chuckled. Matt Sterling might own the Diamond S, but Solita ruled him and everyone else with a kind but unyielding hand.

Drifting shadows reminded Ellie she wasn’t accomplishing the purpose for which she’d ducked out on the fiesta preparations and ridden to the promontory. A sigh started at her toes and crawled up. Where should she begin her journey from the past? At the St. Louis station when her father put her and Timmy on the westbound train and turned away without a backward glance?

“No!” Ellie shivered in spite of the warm day. She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself. Reliving that moment brought back feelings better left buried. Only then could she hold back the bitterness toward Gus Stoddard that lingered after all these years. “I’ll start with when we arrived in Madera….”

Heart beating double time, eleven-year-old Ellie took Timmy by the hand and slowly stepped down from the train, hating to leave the frail security it had afforded on the long journey west.
What if Sarah and Seth don’t want us?

A welcoming voice called, “Where are Ellie and Timmy?” The next moment, Ellie was in Sarah’s arms, with Seth lifting Timmy off his feet and swinging him around in a circle.

“Thought you’d never get here, old man,” Seth said.

“Where are the mountain lions?”

Ellie caught the fearful glance Timmy sent around the station.

Seth looked puzzled. “Up in the mountains where they belong. What made you think we have mountain lions in Madera?”

Timmy bit his lip. Ellie suspected it was to hide its trembling. “Pa said if we didn’t mind, he’d send us out here and we’d get eaten up by mountain lions.”

“I told him I wouldn’t let it happen,” Ellie put in.

“We won’t either,” Sarah promised. “You may never even see a mountain lion. Now, get in the buggy so we can go home. It’s ten miles, and it looks like rain. We got more than our fair share this past February, and it looks like a few more drops might be headed this way.” She laughed. “I like a sprinkle now and again, but it’s nicer being inside looking out than outside when it pours!”

The tight knot in Ellie’s chest loosened. It didn’t sound like Sarah and Seth were angry with Pa for sending her and Timmy. She climbed into the buggy. Sarah took her hand, and Ellie gradually relaxed against her stepsister’s shoulder. Soon the
pitter-patter
of raindrops on the top of the buggy lulled her to sleep.

A gentle shake awakened Ellie. How different from Gus’s usual bellow:
“Git up, girl. There’s work to be done!”

Ellie slowly opened her eyes. She blinked. The sun had come out over a distant hill. Its rays mingled with the light rain and produced the most beautiful rainbow Ellie had ever seen. It arched the sky, and one end rested on a hacienda-style ranch house. Yet the rainbow shone no more dazzling than the love in Sarah’s face. Both shouted
home
.

Sarah put an arm around each of the children and softly said, “Welcome to the Diamond S. We sometimes call it Rainbow’s End. We don’t believe in leprechauns, and we don’t have pots of gold, but we have far greater treasure here: happiness.”

“And no mountain lions?” Timmy prodded, with a big-eyed glance at the corral filled with horses and cowboys.

Seth’s blue eyes twinkled. “No mountain lions, but I’m as hungry as one. How about you, buckaroo?”

Timmy nodded and hitched his too-big pants farther up onto his stomach. His thin face lit up with anticipation. But Ellie continued to watch the rainbow until its glorious colors faded and disappeared before following Seth and Sarah into her new home….

Other memories crowded in on Ellie and demanded her attention, so many she could scarcely contain them. After all the turbulent years with Pa, she and Timmy had found a home that long-ago day. A home and seven years filled with love.

Faces trooped through Ellie’s mind like soldiers on parade: Matt, Sarah, and their two boys, Caleb and Gideon. Seth, Dori, and their adorable twin girls, Susannah and Samantha. Curly and Katie Prescott, with their children Riley and Kathleen. A bevy of laughing Mexican children who called Ellie Senorita and giggled when they saw her.

Vaqueros and vineyard workers. People at church in Madera.

Last of all, Solita’s smiling face gladdened Ellie’s heart. A lump parked in the girl’s throat. Solita,
little sun
, healer of bruises and bringer of sunshine to all. How many tears had been shed on the housekeeper’s apron? How many times had the wise woman offered comfort without ever speaking a word? The touch of her work-worn hand on Ellie’s head soothed away childish hurts like salve on a wound.

Calico nudged Ellie, as if reminding her they needed to head back to the ranch. But Ellie could not go without another prayer of thanks for one of the most important days of her life. Heart overflowing, she slipped from the rock and knelt.

“Lord, thank You so much that Gus allowed Matt and Sarah to adopt Tim and me. Matt never told us how he knew I hated being a Stoddard. Perhaps he guessed.” She thought of the seemingly endless time she and Timmy had waited for Matt’s return from St. Louis. Before he left, he had told the family, “I don’t trust doing this by mail. I’m going to sew Gus Stoddard up so tight that if he ever decides to renege on his bargain, he won’t have a legal leg to stand on.”