by Al Lacy
“Guess I’ve lost count too, sir.”
“You’ve been out there tracking Kingman for better than a week in that cold weather. I know you’ve got to be worn out. Take three days off, okay? Get some rest.”
Seth grinned. “I’ll just do that, sir. Thank you.”
Seth entered his room at the boardinghouse, hung up his hat and sheepskin coat, and took off his gun belt. He had yet to get used to the quiet and solitude of the place. I expect to be lonely when I’m out trailing outlaws, but when I come home, I want a pair of loving arms to welcome me. Seth had hoped there would be some available young women in the Omaha church but had found that those old enough to marry were all taken.
At church on Sunday, Shane and Sandra Keeler came up to Seth and shook his hand.
“Remember what we agreed on before you went out the last time, Seth?” Sandra said.
The young deputy grinned. “Mm-hmm. You said that the first Sunday I was back I was invited to your house for Sunday dinner.”
“How about it?” Shane asked. “Can you come today?”
“Sure. After what you’ve told me about Sandra’s cooking, I’ve been licking my lips in anticipation!”
At dinner, the Keelers told Seth they had just learned that Sandra was going to have a baby.
“Wonderful!” Seth said. “You two have impressed me since the first day I met you.”
Shane cocked his head. “Oh? In what way?”
“You seem so happy in your marriage. I hope that’s the kind I have someday.”
Shane chuckled. “Well, our marriage came about somewhat different than most folk’s. There were people in the church who said we’d never make it.”
“Why’s that?”
“I was a mail order bride, that’s why,” Sandra said. “Shane moved to Omaha from southern Illinois when he got the job here. He was twenty-one at the time. He soon found that eligible young women just weren’t around.”
“Of any kind,” Shane said. “Of course, I only wanted a Christian girl. I expected to find some unmarried, unattached girls in the church, but they just weren’t there. So I talked to Pastor Myers about considering a mail order bride. He told me he had seen it work for several Christian young men. He told me to be very clear up front that I only wanted a Christian girl, that none others need write to me.”
“I won’t go into my side of the story right now, Seth,” Sandra said, “but when I read the ad in the mail order bride section of the Columbus Sentinel—Columbus as in Ohio, that is—I was looking for a man of the same caliber.”
“The doubters in the church have changed their minds,” Shane said. “I suggest you talk to Pastor Myers and pray about it, Seth. If you feel led of the Lord to do so, just go down to the Omaha News, tell them you want to put mail order bride ads in at least a dozen newspapers in the East, North, and South, and see what happens.”
Seth entered his room that night after talking to Pastor Myers following the evening service, pondering what both the pastor and Shane had said. He dropped to his knees beside his bed and asked the Lord to show him if he should try to find a mail order bride.
Seth continued to pray about the matter as he took another assignment from Chief Houser. When he returned ten days later with two outlaws in tow, he went home and wrote out his ad, laying out his specifications the same as Shane had. He explained what he did for a living, since he knew many women shied away from marrying men who wore a badge.
The next day he took the ad to the Omaha News office, and with their help, placed ads in a dozen papers, including the Philadelphia Enquirer. As he left the newspaper office, he asked the Lord to give him the wife He had chosen for him … even as He had done for Shane Keeler.
THE DOOR TO ADAM’S PRIVATE OFFICE OPENED, and Olivia Dahl heard his clients express their appreciation for his help. The middle-aged couple preceded Adam into the main office where Adam laid a folder on Olivia’s desk, saying to her, “I have the will worded to Mr. and Mrs. Videen’s satisfaction, so it’s ready to be copied. I told them you would have it ready within a couple of days.”
Olivia smiled at the couple. “You can drop by day after tomorrow and I’ll have it ready.”
Adam helped Mrs. Videen put on her coat then walked the couple to the door. They thanked him and stepped outside, and Adam glanced across the street and saw Patch Smith in front of his store, talking to a couple of men. Adam said good-bye to the Videens, and when he looked back at Smith, the man was watching him but quickly looked away.
There’s something strange going on, Adam thought to himself. It had been almost three months since he’d asked Jack Brady to tell Smith he would like to meet him, but Smith had never responded nor shown any interest at all in making his acquaintance.
Adam headed back to his office for his coat. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said to Olivia. He closed the front door and looked across the street. Patch Smith and his friends were gone. When Adam entered North Platte Clothiers he saw that both Smith and Jack Brady were busy with customers. Adam caught Brady’s eye, but Smith’s back was toward him.
Adam went to the men’s section and began looking at the dress shirts, all the while keeping an eye on Smith. When Smith turned toward the counter to complete the sale, he saw Adam and froze for a second, then hurriedly proceeded with his tasks.
He must know me from somewhere, Adam said to himself. But the look in his eye was one of fear. A court case in Philadelphia?
Adam stared at Patch Smith. The man’s face was scarred on the left side where the patch covered his eye. Adam was sure that if he had ever met the man in court he would remember him. No, it wasn’t in a courtroom. There was something about the way Smith carried himself … the way his shoulders—
Adam’s eyes widened in disbelief. There was a buzzing inside his head, and his stomach went sour.
“… that you like, Adam?”
Adam blinked and turned to the man standing beside him. “What did you say, Jack?”
“I said, do you see anything here that you like? You know, the shirts.”
“Oh … yes. I … they’re all really nice.” Adam tried to watch what was happening at the counter while he slowly looked over the shirts, his heart pounding. “Let’s see. I’ll take this one … and this one. And I saw another one my size over here that I liked.”
Adam saw the customers at the counter leave. Patch Smith glanced at Adam then hurried to the rear of the store and went through a door.
“I’ll take these, Jack.” Adam said, picking up the third shirt.
The purchase was made, and Adam Burke went back to his office. Olivia looked up from her desk when he came in and did a double take.
“Mr. Burke, are you all right?”
He paused, clutching the paper bag to his chest. “Hmm?”
“Are you all right? You’re so pale. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Oh, well … I’m not feeling so good, Olivia. Sort of came on sudden while I was in the clothing store. I just need to sit down for a few minutes. I’m sure I’ll be all right.”
“Can I get you some water?”
“I have water in my office, thanks. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
Soon Adam was pacing back and forth in his office. “Why? Why did he have to be in the very town I chose to make my home? Why?” A tap on the door brought him to a halt.
“Mr. Burke?” came Olivia’s worried voice.
Adam wiped a shaky palm over his face and forced himself to calm down. “Yes, Olivia? Come in.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Dean Robinson is here for his appointment.”
Adam looked at the wall clock behind his desk. “Oh, of course. Send him in.”
That evening, when Adam entered the boardinghouse, Wallace Melroy was standing in the foyer.
“Hello, Adam. Busy day?”
“Quite busy, Mr. Melroy.”
“I’m glad to see you doing s
o well. Picking up clients daily, I suppose.”
“Just about.”
“Minnie will have supper on in about five minutes. Beef stew tonight.”
“Ah, Mr. Melroy … I’ve had kind of a sour stomach all afternoon. Think I’ll skip supper tonight.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’ll be all right by morning, I’m sure. Tell Mrs. Melroy I’ll see her for breakfast.”
“Will do.”
As soon as he was in his apartment, Adam tossed the package of shirts on the end table and sat down on the couch. His hands were shaking. Bitter memories flooded back.
He was still on the couch some time later when a knock on the door invaded his thoughts. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Almost 8:30. A second knock came, and when he opened the door, a wave of revulsion washed over him.
“You finally figured out who I am, didn’t you?” Patch Smith said, his face pale.
Adam’s jaw tightened. “Patch Smith, huh? I suppose you changed your name when you ran off with that Murray woman!”
“Yes. Patch came naturally,” he said, nodding solemnly, “but I put the Smith on me.”
“So what happened to the Murray woman? I haven’t seen you with a female.”
Patch cleared his throat softly. “She left me for another man before we even got to the Missouri River.” Tears began to spill down Patch’s cheek. “I did a terrible thing, son. I’ve paid for it over and over all these years. How is … how’s your mother?”
There was a long silence. Then Adam’s voice came out rough and guttural as he said, “She’s dead because you deserted her. It took a while, but she finally died of a broken heart.”
Patch wept harder, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, Adam. I made a horrible mistake. A horrible mistake.”
Adam only glared at him.
“When I saw the sign go up over the door across the street, with your name on it, I knew you had followed through on your ambition to be an attorney. At least I figured there probably weren’t two Adam Burkes in this country who were attorneys. I … I’m proud of you, son.”
Adam gave no response.
“I knew I should leave town, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“If I’d known you were here, I’d never have chosen North Platte,” Adam said.
Patch wiped his wet cheek. “I deserve every bit of the hatred you feel toward me. You don’t know how many times I wanted to go home and ask your mother to forgive me and take me back … and to ask you and your sisters to forgive me. But I just couldn’t work up the courage to do it. Only recently, something happened in my life that had me just about ready to head for Boston. Then I saw your sign go up. I—”
“Would’ve been too late.”
Patch sniffed and wiped more tears. “Where are your sisters?”
“As if you care.”
“I do care, though I know you find that hard to believe. I’ve wanted to cross the street and beg your forgiveness a hundred times since the day you first arrived in North Platte. Tonight I couldn’t stand it any longer. That’s why I’m here. Please, son … will you forgive me for deserting you?”
“If you can resurrect my mother and give her back to me, I’ll forgive you, but not until then.”
“But that’s impossible. There’s no way—”
“When I need clothes I’ll buy them elsewhere. If Patch Smith ever needs an attorney he can find one someplace else. I won’t tell anybody in this town who Patch Smith really is because I’d be so utterly ashamed for them to know your blood flows through my veins. You go on and live your life, and I’ll live mine. If we cross paths, it’ll be my mistake.”
Gordon Burke looked down and said, “I don’t blame you for feeling this way. It would mean everything in the world to me if you would forgive me, but I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” Then he turned and walked away.
Bettieann Ralston was thrilled when her parents walked the aisle on a Sunday morning and opened their hearts to the Lord. Since she had become a Christian, Bettieann’s favorite day of the week was Sunday. When Monday came she was eagerly looking forward to Sunday again. It was the same with her parents, now that they were saved.
Bettieann had met several young men at church, but she politely turned down offers for dates. She had placed her burden about Seth in God’s hands and wanted to give Him ample time to work. She knew the Lord would give her peace if it was ever time for her to look for another young man.
Bettieann entered Stinson’s on a Monday morning and found Danielle Sharrow beside herself with excitement.
“You look awfully happy this morning,” she said, smiling.
“Oh, I am!”
Bettieann waited for Danielle to go on, but when nothing else was said, she squinted at her and said, “It’s a secret, I guess.”
“At the moment it is.”
“Well, how long do I have to wait to find out what you are so animated about?”
“Looks like it’ll have to be at lunch. It’s time for the store to open now. If you’d gotten in a few minutes earlier, I could’ve shared it then.”
“Sorry. I ran into a couple of friends outside. If I’d known you had this big exciting secret to share, I’d have put them off till later.”
Danielle laughed. “It’ll be hard to keep it in, but believe me … you’re going to like what I have to share with you!”
Soon customers were streaming through the doors, and the two friends were kept busy for the morning. When the clock on the wall indicated it was noon, and there were clerks in place to cover the lunch hour, Danielle grabbed Bettieann by the hand and said, “Come on, let’s go to lunch.”
They hurried down the street toward their favorite café, and Bettieann said, “All right, Miss Big Secret. Let’s hear it!”
Danielle was almost giddy. “What have we been praying about for months?”
“That the Lord would let me find Seth.”
“Let’s get our table, then I’ll reveal my big secret!”
When they were seated and had ordered, Danielle pulled a newspaper from her coat pocket. “Yesterday’s late edition of the Philadelphia Enquirer,” she said, turning to the classified advertisement section and handing it to Bettieann. “Here … I’ve marked a special ad. Read it.”
Deputy U.S. Marshal Seth Coleman entered the boardinghouse after returning from a long chase of an outlaw gang. He and three other deputies had trailed the gang for a week, finally cornering them, and were able to bring four of the six back alive. Chief Frank Houser had given his deputies three days off.
Seth paused at the mailboxes in the foyer and opened his expectantly. He smiled when he saw at least half a dozen envelopes that had to be responses to his ads. He had already received eight letters from young women, but none of those seemed right.
He entered his room and sat down at a small table and began to sort through his mail. Suddenly he stopped and stared at the familiar handwriting on one of the envelopes. The name Bettieann Ralston was in the upper left-hand corner.
On a dreary day in early March, Rachel Mason was going through the mansion one room at a time, making a list of objects to sell. Income from the American Securities Company had been almost nil since employees had started leaving two and three at a time.
Rachel had been forced to let the cook go. She had done her best to make ends meet and keep them afloat financially. And she had watched her father sink deeper and deeper into despair. The more whiskey he consumed the farther down he went.
In late afternoon Rachel went to the kitchen to prepare supper. Roy Preslan had picked up her father that morning. Roy had come by the previous night, saying that Joseph had to sober up and come with him to the office in the morning. They had to meet with the other officers of the company on a most serious matter.
The meal was about halfway prepared when Rachel heard her father shuffle into the kitchen. She turned to look at him and said, “Supper will be ready in about half an hour, Daddy.”
Rachel moved to where he sat and said, “Well?” The smell of alcohol made her back away a few steps.
Joseph covered his face with his hands. “American Securities is no more. I have nothing but heavy personal debts. We’ll lose the house, for sure. I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
Rachel dropped onto a chair at the table, burst into sobs, and buried her face in her hands. “Why? Why is all of this happening? I just can’t take anymore, Daddy! I just can’t take anymore!”
Joseph stared at her helplessly, tears slowly gliding down his cheeks. When the sound of Rachel’s weeping became unbearable, Joseph got to his feet and placed a quivering hand on her bent head. Rachel raised her head and looked into his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Rachel,” he said softly.
Her father’s touch brought solace that had been sorely missing for so long. She suppressed her sobs and sat quietly soaking in the feel of Joseph’s hand on her head, bringing comfort to her heartsick soul.
After several minutes, Rachel looked up at him and said, “Daddy?”
“Yes, honey?”
“You said you don’t know what we’ll do since we’re going to lose the house.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Aunt Esther has enough house. I’m sure she’d let us move in with her until you’re able to get a job. Things will be better in Memphis, Daddy. You’ll be away from this house where you have so many memories of Mama. I know you’ll be able to quit drinking then. Is … is it all right if I write Aunt Esther, tell her what has happened, and ask if she will take us in?”
“Yes,” he said nodding. “Go ahead.”
In Memphis, Tennessee, Esther Holden waited for a reply to her telegram. Upon receiving Rachel’s letter, Esther wired them the same day, saying that they were more than welcome to come and live with her. She asked them to let her know as soon as possible if they were coming, and when.
And while she waited, she prayed. She asked the Lord to use the devastation in Joseph’s life to bring him to Jesus. And she prayed for Rachel, that she would be convicted of her need to be saved and that the Lord would soon draw her to Himself.
