Gabriel's Atonement (36 page)

“Even if Tom is dead?”

“So, Lara told you his name?”

Gabe suddenly realized his mistake, but it was too late. He wouldn't lie to Lara's grandfather. “No, sir. But I knew Tom a little back in Kansas City.”

“That's quite a coincidence, ain't it?”

“I don't know as I'd call it that.”

Daniel took hold of his sleeve, stopping him. He narrowed his eyes. “What
would
you call it?”

Gabe sighed and stared off in the distance. “Recompense. Restitution. Atonement.”

“Sorry, but I don't follow you.”

The time to come clean had finally arrived. He'd thought to tell Lara first, but maybe it was better that her grandfather knew so that he could comfort her without her having to explain. He had no doubt she would be angry with him. He could only hope she wouldn't go back on her desire to marry him.

He blew out a loud sigh and looked at the older man. “There's no easy way to say it. Tom came to my table one night, cocky and drinking, thinking he could double his month's pay. I saw him ripe for the pickin' and proceeded to do just that. I won all of his money, and later, when I walked home, Tom jumped me in an alley.”

Daniel hissed.

“I'm sorry to say I killed him. It was self-defense, but the result is the same—I killed Lara's husband.”

Daniel lifted his hat and forked his fingers through his thin hair. “Holy moly, Gabe. Have you told Lara?”

He shook his head. “I haven't found the nerve to, but I will soon.”

“See that you do. I can't stand the thought of her being hurt again. The timing is lousy.”

“I know.”

“Gambling is a horrible thing. It robs from families and makes men into sniveling fools. I saw how Tom's witless choices hurt Lara and Michael, and I won't stand by and let another man hurt her again.”

Gabe blinked, surprised by the man's vehemence. “I love Lara, sir. I have no desire to hurt her.”

“I doubt Tom did in the beginning, either, but he did it all the same.”

“I'm not Tom. Lara is a precious treasure to me, and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.”

“I'm glad to hear it, but unless you give up gambling completely, you will hurt her—deeply.”

“I have given it up. Whether Lara agrees to marry me and help me set up a home here or not, I'll not return to gambling. I've seen how it hurts families, and it makes me sick to think how many innocents suffered because I won the money that should have gone to them. It shames me, sir. That's one of the reasons I've tried so hard to help Lara.”

“You can work your whole life helping people, Gabe, but that won't remove the shame from your heart or make amends. Only Christ can erase the guilt you carry and wash you clean again.”

“You talk like my ma used to.”

“She must have been a wise woman.”

“She was.” A rabbit hopping up the hill drew Gabe's gaze. It froze then spun and hurried away. Luke's hammering echoed across the peaceful hills. If only he could find peace.

“Gabe, you need to seek God. No amount of buying food or things or giving Lara land and a home will take away the pain you're feeling over killing Tom. I don't see as you had a choice, according to what you've told me, but I can tell it bothers you. Confess your deed and tell Him about the wrong things you've done and how you want to do better. Then ask Christ to forgive you. That's the only way to be whole again. This thing will eat at you, and no matter how much you love Lara, if you don't get rid of it, it will become like a rotten spot in a potato and ruin everything nearby. You understand?”

“Yes, but I don't know how to approach God. I haven't prayed since I was a boy, and even then, God wasn't listening. Why would He now?”

Daniel laid his hand on Gabe's shoulder. “He heard your prayers, son. He just didn't answer them the way you'd hoped. And there's no special way to talk to God. Just find a quiet place and tell Him what's in your heart like you talk to Lara.”

Gabe knew it was time to quit running. He could never be the man Lara needed unless he faced God and admitted what he'd done.

“You go on. I'm supposed to take Michael fishing, and then I'll come and help you and Luke with the fence posts.” Without waiting for an answer, Daniel plodded up the hill.

Gabe turned for the creek and soon found a shady boulder to sit on. He plopped himself down and stared at the water, glistening like diamonds in spots where the sun slipped through the overhang of trees. The peaceful lapping of water on the banks helped ease his tension. Where did he start? He knew he needed to forgive Elliott, but he didn't know how. He had to find a way though, because if he didn't, the awful memories and emotional pain would forever have a stranglehold on him. He was afraid they would choke the life out of him if he didn't find a way to break free of their grip.
Help me, God
.

He rested his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. “I don't know where to start, God. I've made a lot of bad choices in my life, ones I wish I hadn't, especially shooting Tom Talbot. Daniel says You can forgive me, and I hope that's true. I'm sincerely sorry for all I've done, and if I could do things over, I would. Forgive me, Lord. Please. I reckon I've always believed in You, but I was just too angry to pay You much attention. I aim to change that now and hope You'll make me a new man. Wash the ugly blackness from my life. And show me how to forgive Elliott. Please.”

Gabe walked toward the dugout, feeling cleaner—fresher—than he could ever remember. He had a new hope for his life—a hope that he could change and maybe accomplish something important. And Lara was key to his future.

He had to talk to her, tell her about his meeting with God, and he had to tell her about his part in Tom's death. He wished he didn't have to, but the truth of the matter was that without Tom Talbot entering his life, he'd have never met the woman he'd fallen in love with.

Apprehension threatened to steal away his newfound joy. Would Lara hate him for what he did? Or would she see that he was only defending himself?

He blew out a loud breath. He would know soon enough because there she was, sitting under a tree near the dugout, mending something.

Gabe slowed his steps as he neared her, enjoying the serene scene. Other than his ma, he'd never known a woman who worked so hard. Lara's hands rarely stopped. Even when they'd driven to Guthrie, she'd been knitting with yarn he had purchased at Mark Hillborne's store. Shaking his head, he wondered how she managed that on the bumpy trails. He longed to see her in a new dress, but she seemed bent on making sure everyone else had something new first. Maybe he should just buy a dress at Hillborne's for her. He grinned. Next time he was in town that was what he'd do.

Putting his feet into motion, he quickly closed the space between them. Two of her goats bleated from their pen on the far side of the camp, and she looked up, offering him a meager smile. Her feelings were still raw over her sister's leaving, so maybe this wasn't the best day to talk to her.

But he was sure he'd felt God prompting him to do so. And he liked to think he was done arguing with his Maker.

“I didn't expect you'd be back so soon,” she said.

He squatted in front of her, resting on his toes. “Could you spare a minute or two? I need to talk to you about a couple of things.”

She laid her mending in the basket beside the chair she'd dragged out of the dugout. “I suppose so. Grandpa and Michael are fishing, so I can't start lunch until they return with the fish—if they catch some.”

Gabe stood and helped her to her feet. Seeing her so melancholy made his heart ache.

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

He stared off in the distance, thinking of how to tell her.

“What's wrong, Gabe?”

“I had a talk with your grandpa—or rather he had a talk with me—about getting things right with God.” He pulled off his hat and held it, rolling the brim. “He was right about most everything, and I knew it. The time was right that I made my peace with God.”

Lara's eyes brightened for the first time in days. She reached out and laid her hand on his forearm. “Oh, Gabe. I'm so happy for you.”

“Thank you. It does feel good to be at peace.” He gazed into her lovely eyes, so afraid the next words he uttered would drive her away from him. He wanted to hold her and never let go, but they couldn't have a life together with Tom's death standing in between them. “I've been to church enough in the past to know that God expects us to make amends when we've done something wrong. And I need to do that.”

Lara frowned. “I can't think of anything you need to apologize for. You've been nothing but kind to me.”

He crushed his hat brim, so dreading to say the words, but he had to. “Lara, I need to tell you a story.”

She nodded, looking curious.

“One night when I was gambling, a cocky cowboy sauntered over to my table. It was Tom.”

She blinked. “My Tom?”

The goats bleated and fidgeted in their pen, probably sensing Lara's distress.

He nodded. “He seemed so sure that he was going to double his money, and I'm ashamed to say that I was more than glad to dissolve him of that notion. It was a challenge to me—and I was successful. And I've regretted it almost ever since.”

Lara squeezed his arm. “You had no way of knowing about us and how badly we needed Tom's wages. Losing that money was his fault, not yours.”

“Hear me out, Lara. I'm not done yet.”

She lowered her arm. “Go on then.”

“Later on, when I was walking back to the hotel where I lived, I cut through an alley to avoid a group of rowdy cowboys. Tom was there. He drew his gun and demanded I return his money. I wasn't of a mind to oblige him, and when someone hollered his name, distracting him, I drew my gun and fired at the same time he did.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Lara, it was self-defense, but I'm the man who killed your husband.”

“No…I don't believe it.” Her face turned white, and she stood there blinking. She lifted her chin. “Wait. How did you happen to come to Caldwell?”

“It wasn't by happenstance. I came there to find you and give you the money I'd won from Tom.”

She gasped. “Mr. Jones. He works for you?”

Gabe nodded, wishing Lara's dumb goats would shut up. The moment was stressful enough without their caterwauling.

Lara looked aghast. “You've been helping me just to ease your guilty conscience?”

He put his crumpled hat back on his head. “Maybe at first, but it wasn't long before I started caring for you. No matter what you faced, you did it with grace and determination, and I fell in love with you and wanted to protect you from more hurt.”

She crossed her arms and stepped away, blinking back tears. “And yet you've pierced me with the greatest wound of all. I was merely a project to you—a way to soothe your guilt.”

“Lara, please. That was true in the beginning. I thought if I helped you and Michael, it would ease the guilt I bore after…you know.”

“Only Jesus can wash your heart clean and free you from the guilt you wrestle with.”

He nodded, remembering his ma had told him something similar more than once. “I just want you to know that even though my motive in helping you may have been wrong at first, it quickly changed. I helped because I wanted to ease your burden. Because I fell in love and hoped to make your life easier.”

She held a hand at her throat. “Go back to work, Gabe.”

“Lara…” He stepped toward her, and his heart nearly broke in half when she retreated.

“I can't be with you right now. Just leave. Please.”

He ducked his head, feeling the sting of tears. This is what he was so afraid of. She hated him now. “All right, I'll go for now, but I want you to know that I meant it when I said I love you.”

The goats' racket continued, giving him one good reason to leave.

She shook her head and turned her back to him. Gabe started to walk away, but something in the shadow of the trees caught his attention. A man—with a gun aimed at them—stepped out.

“Well, now. Ain't this just a scene out of one of them dime novels. I ain't been so entertained in years.”

L
ara's heart pounded like the hooves of a runaway horse. Who was this man? What did he want?

Gabe slid closer to her. “There's plenty of food in the dugout. Help yourself, if that's what you're after, mister.”

She stepped to the side to be closer to Gabe. She might be upset with him, but she still felt safer beside him. Thank God he hadn't already left. She eyed the rough-looking stranger. The bottom had dropped out of her world with Gabe's declaration, and now this. Uncontrollable shaking overtook her.
God, help us!

The man cackled. “I will help myself to that food, soon as you folks skedaddle. That's my dugout, and this is my land. My brother's buried here, and ain't nobody else gonna live on it.”