Lawfully Saved: Inspirational Christian Historical

by Carroll, Patricia PacJac

  Her hand stung.

  Rand stopped at the doctor’s office and helped her down. Together they walked inside the small building. The office was neat. Sparse but clean. Dr. Sam Ladd, a friendly looking man, welcomed them inside. “About time you found another girl, Rand.”

  Ketcham stormed an angry glare at her and then the doc. “She’s not mine. Not mine at all. Take care of her. I have things to do, and then I’ll be back.” He was almost out the door when he stopped, turned, and threw the doc a coin. “That ought to cover it.”

  Rose stared at the floor. She felt cheap. Bought. The door slammed, and Rand was gone. Probably for good.

  “Well, little lady, how did you do this.” He turned her hand over. “That’s a deep cut.”

  “On glass. A broken whiskey bottle. I was cleaning. Oh, I don’t know.” She was tired. So tired of fighting to stay alive. Couldn’t she have one thing in her life go easy?

  “A couple of stitches will fix it right up.” He washed her hand and cleansed the wound. “Were you cleaning Rand’s house? The Lord knows it needs it. Most the town has offered him help and asked him over, but he refuses. How do you know him?”

  She told him her story. Parts of it anyway. The doctor didn’t know where Ben was. Hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks, but then he said he wasn’t likely to see him as they weren’t checker partners.

  Dr. Ladd finished stitching her hand and then bandaged it. “You need to rest. Want to lay down in here until Rand comes back?”

  She nodded. That Rand would come back was doubtful, but she wasn’t at all sure the good doctor wouldn’t be more of a wolf than Rand. She was so tired, she didn’t care. At least she could get some sleep inside and under a blanket. Thankfully, Dr. Ladd closed the door and left her.

  Rose sent a sleepy gaze out the open window. “Ben, where are you?” She prayed the gentle breeze would carry her words to him.

  Chapter 2

  Rand turned from her pleading face and walked out the door. The doc would take care of her. Maybe take her in and off his hands. Last thing he wanted was a mouthy female in his house. Rose. Odd that she’d be named after Susanna’s favorite flower. Odd but that was it. He didn’t believe in … anything.

  He jabbed his heels into Black Jack’s side. “Get on.” His horse responded and charged forward. Rand hated himself. Hated that he was punishing the animal. Wasn’t the horse’s fault where they were going. Wasn’t his fault what day it was. Wasn’t Black Jack’s fault that he belonged to Rand Ketcham.

  Still, he kept the horse running up the hill to the dark place where Rand’s hope lay buried. He stopped at the top of the ridge where the big oak spread its limbs and watched over those left behind.

  Rand stared at the marker. Susanna Ketcham. Beloved Wife. 1846 – 1869. A life cut way too short because of him. He should be the one lying under the ground. Not her. Tears wanted to fall, but they’d long ago dried up. He was spent. If he had the guts, he’d end his life right here.

  But her last words still haunted him. She’d reached up to him, brought his face close to hers, and whispered, “Don’t die until you can join me in heaven.” And she was gone. Gone before he could argue. Gone before he could tell her that was impossible.

  He had blood on his hands. Outlaw blood mixed with her righteous blood. Heaven was out of his reach. He was doomed to live. To stay alive for her, because he didn’t see any way that he could work his way back to God’s grace.

  “I’m sorry, Susanna. Forgive me.” They were the same words he said whenever he came to visit her. He stood, head down, and heart stony. Dead inside, barely alive on the outside.

  He walked back to the horse and pulled out the rose cuttings. He’d read you could take fresh cut rose stems, plant them in the ground, and they’d grow. He was going to try it. He walked back to the grave and gingerly planted the stems in the ground. Pushing the dirt high around them, he asked God to grow them for Susanna. God wouldn’t answer his prayers, but for Susanna, He might.

  Finished, he walked back to Jack. Pulled a whiskey bottle from the saddlebag and took a swig. It no longer helped dull his senses. They’d long ago died. He stuffed the bottle back in the bag and rubbed the horse’s ears. “Sorry, fella. You deserve better. I’ll walk you back.”

  He groaned. That girl. Rose. He’d said he’d return. He didn’t have to. He owed her nothing.

  Rose.

  It was like her name sifted through his soul. He looked around. Must be the whiskey playing tricks.

  Rose.

  Again, he looked around. Spooked, he mounted Jack and aimed the horse for town. To keep from hearing the name again, he talked to the animal. “Well, Jack. What are we going to do? You’ve had an easy life the last couple of years, haven’t you?”

  The horse twitched his ears back and forth.

  “You’re listening. Yeah, that’s right. We’ve both grown lazy. You’re even fat. Too much grass and not enough work. What are we going to do about that?”

  Rose.

  “No, I didn’t hear that. I don’t believe in such things. I don’t believe in ghosts, hauntings, or God. Do you Jack?”

  The horse kept walking. Thankfully, the animal didn’t answer.

  Rand pulled the whiskey from the saddlebag, stared at it, and flung it away. “I don’t need that stuff. Makes me hear things, right Jack? No, from now on, no more whiskey.” He rode the horse to Doc’s.

  He owed Rose at least one night and a good dinner. Then he’d give her some money and send her away.

  ***

  Rose awoke and looked around the unfamiliar sterile room. How long she’d been sleeping she didn’t know. She heard voices. Doc’s and Rand’s. The bounty hunter had come back. Puzzled, she sat up for a while to give her senses time to acclimate and for the dizziness to stop.

  Her hand stung. She looked at the bandage. How would she make dinner?

  The door opened, and Doctor Ladd walked in. “Rand came back for you. Do you want to go with him?”

  No, she didn’t. But she had to find Ben, and Rand was her only hope. “Yes.”

  The doc frowned as concern worried his face. “All right. If he gives you trouble, come back here.”

  “Yes, sir. I believe I’ll be all right.”

  Doc gave her a weak grin. “Wish I had your faith. I know Rand, and I wouldn’t go with him.” He helped her off the bed. “You take it easy. Don’t let him make you work.”

  She walked to the door and turned. “Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been very kind.”

  The doctor gave her stern look. “Just remember, you can come here if you need to.”

  She walked out the door to Rand. He looked awful. Sullen. His eyes lifeless. She prayed for him. Prayed he’d choose life instead of death. Choose the path she’d chosen that day in church. It had made all the difference in the world and for the one to come.

  She smiled at him. “I’m ready.”

  Rand stared at her, his eyes hard and dark. “You shouldn’t cook with that hand. I’ll take you to dinner. You can order a steak. I have money.” He walked her to the horse, untied the animal, and escorted her up the street.

  She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if she wanted to be seen with him. And didn’t know if she should follow him back to his wreck of a house. But she continued to walk beside him. What she did know, she was starving.

  He stopped in front of Carol’s Diner. “They have good food.” He opened the door for her.

  The guests inside stared at her and then him. She kept her gaze on the table. A woman, Carol if she had to guess, came to them.

  “Rand, surprised to see you here. And who is this?”

  “Rose.” She said it at the same time he did.

  “Oh, are you the Rose that Ben has been talking about? I’m Carol if you couldn’t guess.”

  “Yes, but he is missing.”

  Carol frowned. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks.” She darted a gaze to Rand.

  Rose’s heart
plummeted to her toes, and her appetite disappeared. She didn’t know what to say.

  Rand held out a chair for Rose. “Steak and the works. Lemonade for me.”

  Her cheeks warming, Rose hoped the woman wouldn’t get the wrong idea about her. “Nice to meet you, Carol. Sounds good. I’ll have the same.”

  “Got it.” Carol stared at her.

  Rose could tell the woman wanted to ask questions of her and Rand.

  He was watching her. “If you hear anything about Ben, let me know.”

  Carol grinned. “Why Rand Ketcham, I do believe you’re on the hunt again. About time.” She frowned. “I can’t see that Ben would have done anything against the law. He’s one of the nicest people I know.”

  Rand shook his head. “He’s missing.” He opened his napkin and set it in his lap. “Just looking for him.” He pointed. “For Rose.”

  Rose lost her breath and stared at him. This hard as a rock bounty hunter had a chink in his armor. Did that mean he was going to help her? She forced her gaze to the table as she didn’t want to push him.

  Carol started to walk away but stopped. “I’m glad. It’s about time you joined the land of the living, Rand.” She left and put their order in.

  Rose sat quiet and still. She didn’t want to destroy what little chance she had that Rand was indeed going to help her. In his hardness, he was so fragile. Brittle like a too hard piece of steel that would shatter on the first strike.

  When she was little, a kind blacksmith had taught her about steel. Showed her how the heat strengthened it. Told her God would do that in her own life if she watched for it. When she felt the heat and pounding of life, he advised her to remember that God was making her strong as steel.

  She figured nothing could break her. Then hope entered her life through Ben’s letters, and her hard shell cracked. Her heart came alive and dared to believe something good could come of her life. Now? She felt her strength turning brittle. She glanced at Rand. If she didn’t find Ben, she’d end up like him. A shell. Existing but not living.

  She made herself small to avoid bothering him and ate the dinner put before her. She sneaked a glance at him. He seemed as put off as she felt. He didn’t say a word. Passed her the salt and kept his head down. He ate his meal without pleasure.

  She, on the other hand, relished every bite. Rose had grown up with hunger and learned that food was to be appreciated. Bad-tempered bounty hunter in front of her or not, she was going to enjoy this meal. After all, who knew when she would get her next one.

  The steak was gone, and she was scooping the last of the beans when her thoughts turned to Ben. She loved him. Truly loved that man. Tears blurred her vision. From his first letter, she knew he was the one.

  She’d answered the advertisement that she’d found in the Philadelphia paper. At first, she scoffed at the idea of going across the country to marry someone she didn’t know. But when she read his letter in the paper, it was like it reached out to her as if it had been written only for her.

  She answered his letter and told him about her past, and then how she’d been saved in the little church that met under the trees near the Delaware River. She’d written how she was clean now and not going back to her old way of life. But she’d understand if he wanted to pass on her and choose a wife who hadn’t led such a stained life. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she thought of his answer.

  Dear Rose,

  I hope you don’t think it too forward that I use your Christian name, but I feel as if I have waited all my life for you to come to me. I read your letter over and over. After each reading, my heart welcomed you deeper and deeper into my life. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I already love you. I—

  “Are you all right? Is your hand hurting?” Rand’s gruff voice jolted her out of the sweet memory.

  She glared at him. Angry that he had interrupted her thoughts. Then she remembered her predicament. “I’m fine.” She took her napkin and wiped her cheeks.

  “Well, you were crying.”

  “There is nothing wrong with that. The man I love is missing. I think that’s reason enough.” Now that she’d eaten and had some energy, her spirit had returned. She’d never let men treat her poorly before. At least, her mother had taught her that much. “After all, I have no place to go. I was hungry until you bought my dinner. And I’m grateful for that. But if I want to cry, I’m going to cry.”

  He sat ramrod straight, unmoving and staring at her. Finally, he shrugged. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll go back to my cabin.”

  “Me, too?”

  He dragged a roll through his beans. “I said, we.”

  “That won’t look right. I’m not that kind of woman. Not anymore.” She was shaking now.

  He rolled his eyes. “You can’t sleep outside? It’s going to rain.”

  “You have a barn.”

  He stood abruptly. “Finished?”

  Rose looked at her clean plate and his half-eaten steak. She nodded.

  “Let’s go.” He led her outside and helped her on the horse before getting on behind her. He tapped the horse, and they trotted up the street toward the hill and to his cabin. The air was cool, and she shivered.

  He put his jacket around her. “Spring nights can get cool.”

  This time she shuddered. She shouldn’t let another man touch her. She couldn’t get over the feeling that she was betraying Ben. Not that Rand had any feelings. She’d been cold from the night air, but his touch was even colder. That was the one reason she didn’t resist him. Didn’t tell him no when he put her on his horse.

  He wasn’t alive. He wasn’t a man. She’d seen them before. Men who’d fought in the War Between the States. Men who’d seen too much death and all that was left was a shell. That was Rand. He’d said his wife had died. Her death must have killed the life in him.

  Then they were in front of his cabin. The aroma of the roses wafted on the air and smelled heavenly. An ironic mix with the wreck around them. Yet, his garden was clean and straight. Now that she looked in the dying sunlight, she saw other plants emerging.

  He dismounted and helped her down. “I’ll sleep in the barn.”

  She stared at him, went inside the house, looked around and grabbed a blanket and her satchel. Almost running into him, she went to the door. “I think the barn is cleaner. I’ll take the barn.” Not waiting for him to answer, she left him.

  Rose opened the barn door. It was neater than the house. She’d thought it might be. His horse, Black Jack he’d called him, was well kept. The man might not care about himself, but he cared for his livestock and garden. That was something.

  She kicked hay into a mound, set the blanket down and slipped out of her skirt and blouse. She put on her nightgown and snuggled into her bed. It felt good. The smell of horse mingled with sweet fresh hay and the soothing aroma of the roses. She stared out the window next to the barn door and watched the moon rise over the hill.

  Hope. Her heart fired up with the warm feeling she’d felt that Sunday at the creek on the Delaware River. Rand would find Ben. She knew it. She hoped it. And right now, that was enough.

  Chapter 3

  Ben Anderson gently rubbed his wrists where the ropes had dug in. At least they hadn’t tied him up yet. He thought about making a break for it, but one of the was always near. He stared at the night sky and prayed that Rose was safe and would wait for him. Ed, the leader of the gang, promised they’d let him go as soon as they left the state.

  Ben had been driving some of Duston’s strays back to the big spread. It was his last day working for the rancher when the rustlers caught him. Ben had tried to get away, but a big, evil-looking outlaw named Jingo threatened to kill him. By the fire in the man’s eyes, Ben believed him.

  Ed O’Hara had intervened. Said they’d be leaving soon enough when they took another twenty head.

  A kick to Ben’s foot jolted him to the present.

  Jingo sneered at him. “Don’t think about trying to get away. Might have t
o shoot you if you do.” He grinned, revealing broken and missing teeth.

  Ed pushed Jingo aside and knelt in front of Ben. “Shouldn’t be but another week, two at the most if everything goes smoothly.” He handed Ben a cup. “Dinner is ready.” He turned and yelled at Jingo. “Get a plate for him.”

  Ben stared at Ed O’Hara and tried to understand him. “Let me go. I won’t say anything. I promise. I told you I sent for a mail-order bride. She’s been in Duston for a week all alone, and I need to get word to her.”

  Ed frowned. “Sorry, can’t do it. If she loves you, she’ll wait. Eat up. The boys and I have to tie you up early tonight.”

  “Adding to your herd?”

  “Yep.” He laughed. “Don’t you worry. I might be a rustler, but I’m not a killer.”

  Ben shook his head. “Not yet, anyway. You’re on a dangerous path. I kind of like you, Ed. I fear for your soul. You’re headed to—”

  Jingo threw a biscuit at him. “Perdition. Yeah, we heard that.”

  Ben glared at him. Jingo was the bad one. Ed and his brother John, they were rustlers all right but not killers. “You’re evil, Jingo.”

  The man laughed. A coarse mocking sound that was anything but joyful.

  Ed snarled at the big man. “Shut up, Jingo. We’re having a private conversation. Go check the herd and have John come in.”

  With a growl, the big man threw his tin plate down and stomped to his horse, a poor terrorized animal that bore the brunt of his owner’s outrage.

  Ed sat back against a tree. “Duston stole from us first. He took our father’s land. Stole it. Pa never got over it. Buried himself in a bottle while John and I had to scrape to stay alive. I figure Duston owes us.”

  Ben thumped his chest. “What about me? I didn’t do anything to you.” Ben hated to admit it, but he liked Ed. The man could tell a good story and had protected him several times from Jingo.