Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana (30 page)

She eyed Julia and her voice softened. “I know the Lord wants me to be longsuffering and full of charity and kindness, but sometimes, especially before you came, I’d get so plumb tuckered out. I wasn’t the kind of mother I knew the Lord wanted me to be. So, Julia, I’m not saying you’ve cured me of my misconduct, but seeing how you don’t let things get to you and how you smile and laugh with the children, the way you listen so fixedly when they talk—well, it encourages me to do the same. Why even when those naughty youths were branding mice that day, you whipped them into shape without an unkind word. I know you’re not a mother yet, but you make me want to be a better one.” Her eyebrows slanted upward and her lips curled into a smile. “So there’s my long way of saying that I’m grateful to have you in my life, and I hope, no matter what happens, that we can be friends, sisters.”

“Oh, Miriam.” Julia sent her friend a grateful smile. “That’s so kind of you to say.”

“Well, I don’t know what that letter said, but I imagine your headmistress is longing to have you home. I know I would. But we all wanted to tell you that if you decide to stay here, you’re welcome.”

The shopkeeper set to work tallying up the order, and Julia sat on the chair beside the door, the impact of Miriam’s words hitting her. She was welcome here. She wasn’t a burden. They wanted her to stay.

Looking at this woman and envisioning the friendship she’d felt from each member of the family during her days at the ranch, she suddenly ached to hold onto it. Certainly, before the night Isaac left, she’d begun thinking of Lonesome Prairie as home. She’d even considered finding work and eventually staking her own claim, if perhaps Abe or Jefferson would help.

She hadn’t considered staying only because of Isaac—although she had to admit the parson’s character had drawn her from the first moment she met him—but because the whole community enticed her, from the Pretty Apron Brigade to the way Isaac’s parishioners displayed their appreciation at his birthday party. Even teaching the children had been a joy. She could make a place for herself here. At least she thought she could.

Yet even though she appreciated her friends and had considered staying, returning to New York was still her plan. Julia rubbed the back of her neck as a tide of reality tensed her muscles. She could never be part of their family, or even the community—not without Isaac returning her feelings. It would be too painful…impossible.

If she stayed in Lonesome Prairie, or even Big Sandy, she was sure to run into him. Knowing Miriam and Elizabeth, they’d pull her into their family and make her one of them. She’d be invited to birthdays and holidays, and of course Isaac would be there, too. Not only could she not imagine hiding her feelings for him, she had to admit she felt a little foolish, too. Everyone at that party surely noticed how she cared for him. She hadn’t been shy about catching his eye across the fire or clinging to him after they found Bea. She’d forever be known as the New York lady who set her bonnet for the preacher but was rejected. No, she couldn’t be known as that person.

The door creaked as a burly cowhand walked into the shop, and Julia lifted her head, remembering she was supposed to help Miriam, not wallow in self-pity. She returned to the counter, where the shopkeeper still added up the total, and turned to face Miriam.

“I appreciate all you’ve done for me, and I’m thankful for your kind offer, too…but I’m sorry.” Julia bowed her head. “I can’t stay.”

Miriam’s lips puckered in a slight frown, and Julia could see tears pooling in her friend’s eyes. The older woman squeezed Julia into another embrace, seeming to accept Julia’s statement and choosing not to push. She let her go and then wiped a tear from her cheek as she lifted the fabric and placed it in Julia’s arms. “We know your beautiful skirt got ruined on your train ride here. This fabric doesn’t compare with your fancy New York styles, but we hope we can make one to replace it. Elizabeth and I thought the three of us could do it together.”

“You’re too kind. Thank you.”

Miriam gave Julia a smile then surveyed the crate’s contents. “Well, I think that’s about it. I used to always stop at Aponi’s house for a quick visit, but since that’s not possible, I suppose we should just head home. Jefferson will appreciate a warm meal when he gets back from tending to the sheep.”

“A warm meal?”

A man’s gravelly voice rattled through the store, and Julia’s stomach clenched at the sight of Horace Whitbaum. She hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Is that my wife talkin’ about a warm meal? Ain’t nothin’ I’d like more.”

“It’s amazing how a change of attitude can make time go by faster.” Isaac scraped the last bite of his oatmeal breakfast from his plate and swallowed it with a grin. “It’s been another week. This one went by much faster than the first.” He moseyed over and put the tin plate in the dishpan resting on the ground next to the cabin.

Jim threw a bit of dry oatmeal to a sparrow and swigged a sip of coffee—or the mixture he called coffee. Isaac wasn’t sure what was actually in it. “Yeah, you’re much easier to live with since you started trustin’ the Lord.”

Mabelina smiled, her red hair glimmering in the crisp sunlight. “But Parson, we need to think of something. You gotta tell that Julia how you feel or you’re gonna burst. I was telling Jim on our walk that if you smile any bigger, your face is gonna split in two, and all types of sunshine is gonna spill out.”

Isaac fingered the bill of his parson hat and then rubbed his cheeks. “I know. She is cramming the bull’s portion of my thoughts these days.”

“Not just your thoughts. Your words,” Mabelina added with a teasing smile. “I feel downright tired of that girl, and I’ve spent less than a day with her my whole life.”

“I’m sorry.” Isaac’s neck warmed. “Everything seems to remind me of her.” He lowered his head then peeked up at Mabelina. “I’ll try to hold back.”

Mabelina moved from her spot beside the campfire and tapped Isaac on the head. “You better,” she teased.

“Now, my little marmot.” Jim scooped himself another serving of oatmeal. “You shoulda heard me talkin’ ’bout you before I told ya how I felt.” He took a bite, leaving a glob on his mustache.

“That’s true!” Isaac pointed at Jim. “He barely saved a breath for breathing when it came to blathering on about you.” Isaac eyed the couple. “I have to say, I was all for getting out of this place a week ago, but I’m glad for your and Mabelina’s sake that Judge Booker doesn’t seem to have turned up yet. I like watching you two doting newlyweds.”

“They sure are dotin’.” Lefty returned from getting a drink of water from the well spout, apparently unable to bear the bitter “coffee.” “All that cooing and love talk, boy howdy, it makes me want to find a wife of my own.”

Jim squinted. “Ain’t no better way to make a man become his best than ta bring a good woman into his life.” He winked at Mabelina, who batted her eyes.

“That true, Parson?” Lefty asked.

Isaac grinned. “I suppose one of the reasons the Good Lord made marriage was to help the male persuasion be what He called them to be. He did say it wasn’t good that man be alone, remember?”

Lefty perked up as he plopped down on his stump. “Guess after we get outta this place, I’d better follow the Good Lord’s instruction then. Find me a wife.”

“Me and you both.” Isaac laughed. “Well, I’m gonna head out for a walk. Be back in a bit.”

“You and those walks, Parson. Every morning these days.” Jim spooned himself yet another helping of oatmeal.

Isaac peered at Jim. “Not much better than a morning walk to clear the mind and—”

“I know,” Jim interjected. “‘O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee.’ Psalm 5. Just read it this mornin’.” He leaned an elbow on his knees.

Isaac tilted his head. “That’s about it, Jim. See ya in a bit.”

Isaac headed down the trail toward the stream, rays of sunlight deflecting mottled shadows on his arms and legs. He breathed in the fresh sap-scented air, and his thoughts started up in the spot they had finished the night before. Ever since that day in the rain when God opened his eyes to finally trust Him, possibilities he’d never explored played in his mind. The one that kept returning was the idea of pastoring one church instead of the whole circuit.

Isaac kicked a rock as he stepped down to the streambed. He’d heard of circuit preachers who planted churches, building parsonages and training up pastors along their route. He’d thought of doing that himself, sort of like the apostle Paul, but now the idea of being the one in the parsonage appealed to him like never before. Serving at one location, baptizing, performing marriages, praying with the sick, and rejoicing at new births—natural and spiritual. A rush of joy filled his chest as he pondered the idea.

He’d deliberated over the practical side, too. Could these emerging communities support a local pastor? And his conclusion—well, yes. It seemed each year more and more families came, seeking life away from the established towns in the real frontier. And with the cheap land where folks could stake claims, more were sure to come. Plus, he could get by on little and perhaps raise a small herd of sheep or cattle to supplement his own household. Nothing wrong with that.

Isaac paused, savoring a fresh sense of God’s abundant goodness. Even though he now would gladly trust the Lord with a wife’s safety—Julia’s, he hoped—he wouldn’t have to leave her for weeks at a time while he was on his circuit. Not if he ministered in a stationary pastorate. Isaac strolled along the stream watching the water clip over the rocks.
It’s so like You, Lord, to give us our hearts’ desires just when we least deserve it.

And another thing about Isaac giving up the circuit was that Jim could take over. Isaac laughed out loud at God’s strange providence. Whoever would’ve thought Giant Jim Newman, the rude, rowdy gold miner, would long to preach the treasure of God’s Word more than seek earthly gold? Isaac knew it’d take a couple years for Jim to be ready to serve as shepherd of the Lord’s flock, but Jim certainly had the heart to serve. Just look at how he’d shared his faith with Lefty. Perhaps a little overzealous, like one young in the faith, but he studied the Bible and longed to learn more.

Isaac followed his usual morning route down the stream to the tree line that formed the abrupt border between the oasis of Old Scraggy Hill—with its pine trees, streams, and wildflowers—and the low-lying, yellow fields of prairie. He hiked up to a boulder tucked into the hillside and gazed out at God’s creation. “Thank You for this beautiful spot, Lord.” Isaac spoke out loud, knowing no one would come around.

A cluster of pink flowers grew at the foot of the boulder, and Isaac imagined Julia picking them and placing them in her long brown hair. How beautiful that hair looked, glowing in the light of the fire that first night she’d cared for him in his soddy. Even then he’d felt a connection to her, a longing to know her, understand her, even protect her.

Yet, although he was sure of his feelings for Julia, he wasn’t sure how she felt about him. And for some reason, that didn’t bring him anxiety. Every idea about his future, every plan and dream involved her. But despite that, he knew she might still return to New York. Perhaps it was even likely. She seemed to care for him, but he hadn’t been honest enough with his feelings. He’d failed to give her the opportunity to share her heart.

No matter what happened, he’d trust the Lord. If he never married, never started a school—even if God closed every door for him to minister and called him to ride herd his whole life—he hoped he’d ride herd for God’s glory alone, being content to serve the Boss with joy each day.

He pulled his Bible out of the small satchel he carried and took a moment to run his fingers over the leather cover, thinking again of Julia and how she’d stitched this for him with loving care. Then, taking Jim’s suggestion, he read Psalm 5. After a while, having prayed and meditated, Isaac hopped off the boulder and ambled back up to the cabin.

As he approached, he heard a voice he didn’t recognize.

“What? The parson’s not here? Why’d you let him go? And where’s the woman?” Isaac heard the sound of a hand smacking flesh, and then he set off at a run toward the sound.

As he viewed the cabin, he saw one of Warren’s lackeys, the long-faced Buck, perched next to Lefty, who had his hand on his face and was crouched down in pain. Isaac sprinted to him.

Isaac glared up at Buck. “What are you doing? I’m right here.”

“But where’s the woman?” the man demanded.

“I don’t know.” Isaac’s eyes raked the area. “Maybe they’re off trapping.”

“I told him that’s where they were,” Lefty said nervously. “They go off every morning and come back with some good game. Weasels, coons, foxes, squirrels—even a snake one time.”

A spasm of irritation crossed Buck’s face. “How do I know you didn’t let them run off? They could be nigh to Canada by now.” Buck’s hand fingered his Colt .45.

Isaac wiped his hands on his pants, hoping he could talk the man down from his anger. “I told your boss that I’d make sure they stayed, plus you’ve got your guard here who’s been with us the whole time. He wouldn’t let them leave.” Isaac tilted his head as a stomping sound floated to his ears. “There. I bet that’s them.”