The Scarlet Thread (37 page)

it. Sinnott’s son is from his first wife who died.

Paralee is the second wife. She told me a few

nights back Franklin has poured all the money

she inherited into what he is carrying in those two

wagons. Two of his oxen have died already from

pulling the load. It appears to me Franklin

Sinnott is more worried about getting his goods

to Oregon than he is about little Patty lost in the

wilderness.

We made 20 miles today. Paralee did not come

out of her wagon even for the nooning. Everyone thought she was grieving in quiet. They did

not know until we camped that Franklin had

her tied so she could not get free and gagged

her so she could not cry out. MacLeod is fit to

be tied himself now that he knows what the

man did to his wife. Franklin insists he did it

for her own good. He said she would have run

off looking for little Patty otherwise.

Kavanaugh told Franklin and Paralee yesterday

the Cheyenne do not have their little girl. I sat

inside our wagon and cried. It was what he did

not say that grieved me so. Little Patricia

Sinnott is dead. Everyone but Paralee knows.

The nights are bitter cold and the days hot and

dry. The child had no blanket or water. And

there are coyotes and mountain lions and

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grizzlys and wolves. No three year old child

could have survived one night out there.

Nellie asked me to pray with her that little

Patty was taken home to heaven quickly and did

not suffer long. I said I can not remember a time

when God heard anything I said to him. The last

time I tried was for Deborah and look what came

of that. Nellie was shocked and said—God loves

you, Mary Kathryn Farr, and you have got to

believe that. I told her that God loves those he

wants to love and I am not one of his chosen

people. I told her that it was all right because

I have no love for him either.

I did not mean to make her cry.

We are camped near a great rock that looks like

a giant turtle. Almost everyone has carved their

names upon it. Even me. Joshua and some of the

others have climbed to the top.

Devils Gate is not far from here. Joshua is riding over for a closer look. I can see it fine from

where I sit writing in my journal. It looks like a

giant ax cut through the stone mountain to let the

Sweetwater River run through. And sweet water

it is after the muddy Platte. It tastes so good. We

will follow the river west.

James had to shoot one of our oxen yesterday it

was suffering so. Beth is grieving over it. She

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answer for her. Nellie was sitting with us and said

death is just a door believers walk through to be

with Jesus. Her words did not cheer Beth nor I.

Why does she have to keep on talking about

Jesus? Her words just raise a jumble of questions

and heartache. Beth said Old Tom was just an ox

and how could he know what to believe. Nellie

knew she had raised trouble. Beth said it was not

fair that people go to heaven and animals do not

because animals are nicer than a lot of people.

She is right about that but I could not let her go

on with such thinking. A child needs a little hope

in this world.

I told Beth Aunt Martha read to me about

heaven once and I remember it said the lion

would lie down with the lamb. Nellie said that

was right. She looked it up in her Bible right

there on the spot. And I said I remember Aunt

Martha reading that Jesus would ride down to

earth on horseback. Nellie found that too. I told

Beth there had to be animals in heaven for any

of that to happen. Lions and lambs and horses

maybe Beth said. She wanted to know if Werner

Hoffman would see his dog again in heaven.

I said likely so if Werner could get himself there.

We buried Dunham Banks today. Celia would

not let him be buried in the road. The men dug as

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deep as they could but we are going over hard

rocky ground. MacLeod said words over him.

Celia gave baby Hortense to Beth to hold and

started gathering rocks to stack on top of poor

Dunhams grave. I helped her until the job was

done. So did Nellie.

It is dark now and Celia is still sitting by the

mound.

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17

uniform. He was waiting at the front steps just as he said he

would be, and beside him was a young woman holding a baby.

He grinned when he saw her.

“Be polite,” Sierra said to her own children who stood glumly

beside her, annoyed at being dragged off to church. Their father

hadn’t taken them to Mass more than three times in three years. In

fact, the last time they had been inside a church was for their

grandmother’s memorial service.

“Welcome, Mrs. Madrid,” the officer said, extending his hand.

“I neglected to tell you my name. I’m Dennis O’Malley, and this

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As people moved around them to enter the church, Sierra introduced herself and her children. Rather than be annoyed at them

for blocking a portion of the steps, people smiled warmly.

Over the last several days, since her experience on the freeway, she’d had a growing sense of . . . something. All the pain, all

the crying out, had left her feeling empty. Drained. She had

reached the end of her endurance, the end of her abilities to deal

with the mess her life had become. And yet, much to her surprise,

she wasn’t depressed, or hopeless, or any of the things she’d

expected to be. Instead, she felt . . .
directed—
as though a gentle

hand rested on her shoulder and guided her. With love. She

knew whose touch she felt. She’d heard her mother talk about

the “presence of God” more times than she’d cared to listen. But

now she understood better. She didn’t know exactly what it all

meant, but she was ready. She’d spent enough time trying to figure things out for herself, and look where that had gotten her.

Now she wanted answers. Real answers.

And for some reason, she felt a certainty that this was the place

where she’d find them.

The O’Malleys ushered them into the church and selected a

pew near the back. Clanton sat on one side of Sierra, muttering,

“What a bore,” under his breath. Carolyn sat on her other side.

Dennis sat nearest the aisle, while Noreen sat at the far end of

the pew beside Carolyn and near the outside aisle.

“Just in case I have to leave,” she said with a smile. “Sometimes Sean wakes up hungry. He’s small but he makes a big

noise.” Her blue eyes were full of warmth. Seeing Carolyn’s

look, she smiled. “Would you like to hold him?”

“Could I?”

People turned around from the pew in front. Dennis made

more introductions. Everyone was so friendly. They looked

happy to see Sierra and her children, and she felt the oddest

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sense of connection, as though she’d finally come home. The feeling was even more poignant when the service began. Everything

was so familiar, yet different. It wasn’t that the pastor said anything she had never heard before. She had heard the gospel from

her mother since she was old enough to remember. Yet now,

inexplicably, it all made sense. It filled in the gaps of her life.

Oh!
Her soul sighed.
Ohhhhh.

The pastor spoke and the words pierced her. Her throat closed

even as her heart opened wide. Parched from wandering in the

wilderness, she drank in the living water of the Word.

“Why’re you crying?” Clanton whispered, embarrassed and

worried.

She shrugged, smiling at him. There was no time now to explain

how she felt.
Connected.
A part of something tremendous and exhilarating.
Whole.
She tried to stop the tears, but they flowed like

cleansing balm. Sorrow poured over and through her, filling her

and bringing with it a deep hunger for the Lord. In its wake came

hope and reassurance that everything would work out.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned mightily against thee. Mea culpa,

mea culpa. Oh, God! Oh, God!

How was it possible to feel so
alive
today, when only two days

ago she had longed for death?

The congregation rose to sing, and she rose with them, fumbling

through the hymnal and mouthing the words when emotion kept

her silent. She couldn’t read the words or even utter a sound, but it

didn’t matter. Her heart
sang.
Carolyn stood beside her, oblivious

and enthralled with baby Sean in his mother’s arms while

Clanton, on her other side, fretted, convinced she was going nuts.

She uttered a soft laugh and put her arm around him.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Let’s
leave,”
he hissed back.

“No, we’re staying.” Forever.

It was Dennis who served her Communion. She smiled up at

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streamed past them on the Hollywood Freeway.
You know what I

was doing when you pulled up beside me, Officer?
Praying.
So much for

divine intervention.

God had been intervening, all right. Mightily. He had brought

her to a screeching halt on the dusty shoulder of a Los Angeles

freeway rather than allow her to hurtle herself off the nearest

cliff. And he did it because he loved her and would not let her go.

She almost laughed as realization came, bringing joy with it. She

had been standing on sacred ground and hadn’t even known it!

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his

holy name . . . ,” the congregation sang, and she sang with them,

unable to remember a time when she had felt so happy.

“Boy, am I glad that’s over,” Clanton said on the way home.

“You’d better set your mind to get used to it. We’re going

back.”

“Oh, good!” Carolyn said.

She earned a glare from her brother. “You want Mom blubbering again?”

Sierra smiled at him. “I’ll try to contain myself.”

Lying in bed that night, Sierra knew she needed to make

some changes in her life. Immediate changes. For one thing, she

couldn’t work for Ron anymore, not knowing how he felt about

her. She realized her own feelings for him were confusing. She

had always found him profoundly attractive. Several times,

she’d thought how much better her life would be had she been

married to Ron rather than Alex. That stopped her.

She was too vulnerable right now to think rationally. With

Alex gone, she was needy. She was afraid of so many things. Ron

was strong and confident. It would be too easy to turn to him for

solace. Seeking solace could lead her into an affair.

She was still married. She needed to remember that, despite

the present circumstances. For better or worse, Alex was her

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