by Mills, DiAnn
Caleb brought his finger to his lip, seemingly concentrating on Gabe’s question. “He might remember when he was young and didn’t have to lag behind. I think he’d feel badly for the shepherd boy too.”
“What would the two discuss along the way?”
“The angel’s message?” Caleb asked without hesitation.
“Probably so,” Gabe said.
Caleb took a deep breath. “And maybe how they all had been frightened when the angels appeared in the sky.”
Lena listened in awe at the way Gabe taught the boys without them ever realizing it. Caleb’s always so serious. I wish he’d learn how to enjoy life before he’s an old man.
“And you, Simon?” Gabe continued. “What if you were the young shepherd boy?”
“Since the angels came at night, I might be a little afraid of wild animals.”
“Much like the day with the wolves?” Gabe asked.
Simon’s face grew serious. Nightmares had plagued his little mind since the incident. Many nights his cries awakened them all. “Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t you think if God cared enough for the world to send His Son as a baby that He might be watching out for all frightened boys?”
Simon gave Gabe his attention. “I think so. Do you think God cares about my bad dreams?”
Gabe ruffled Simon’s hair. “I’m sure He does.” He looked at each member of his family. Love clearly glowed from his gaze. “We all need to pray for Simon’s nightmares until God stops them.”
“I will,” Caleb responded. “Those wolves were scary.”
“Bless you, Son. We all need to pray for each other, in good times and bad.” The room grew quiet, then Gabe spoke again, his tone lighter. “And now I have a gift for you.”
The boys’ eyes widened.
Gabe rose from the floor and walked to his trunk where he stored his books. The fire crackled, and Turnip rose on his haunches, his ears erect. “Easy, Boy. It’s just the wind searching for a hole to get inside.” Gabe retrieved a leather pouch and brought it back to the fire.
“You really did purchase these before you left Philadel-phia?” Lena asked. “Why, you didn’t even know us.”
Gabe smiled, warming her heart. “I believed the future held something wonderful. . .and it did.” He pulled out a small brown paper parcel. “This is for you, Simon.”
The young boy grinned at his mother, then eagerly took the package. Inside, two carved wooden horses with soldiers mounted atop poised ready for a little boy to play with them.
“Thank you,” he breathed, turning the toys over and over in his palm. A broad smile spread from ear to ear.
“And you, Caleb,” Gabe said, handing him another parcel.
Lena watched her elder son slowly untie the string wrapped around his gift.
“A compass,” Caleb whispered, moistening his lips. He peered up at Gabe with an appreciative gaze. “I will take good care of it always. I promise.”
Gabe nodded. “I know you will. I know both of you take excellent care of your possessions.” He turned to Lena. “And now for you.” He strode over to the chest and pulled out a much larger package and handed it to her.
Oh, my. Has Gabe spent his money on something extravagant for me? It’s large too. He gingerly placed the gift in her lap. “Open it, please,” he said.
Lena swallowed a lump in her throat and slowly un-wrapped the package, savoring the thought of Gabe’s generous spirit more so than what was inside the package. She gasped, and her fingers shook as she lifted a cream-colored woolen shawl for all to see. “It’s beautiful,” she uttered, staring into his face. Never had he looked so handsome, so beloved as tonight. Every day his unselfish devotion amazed her, and every day her love for him grew. “Thank you so much. I’ve never had a shawl so grand.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “There’s more for you.” Gabe took the shawl and placed it around her shoulders.
Lena turned her attention to the remaining items in the package. Neatly folded yard goods in colors of light green and a deeper green plaid felt crisp to the touch. “How perfect,” she whispered, examining the fabric and relishing its newness.
“I believe there’s an ample amount of calico for a dress and jacket,” he said.
“Oh, yes.” She blinked back the tears. What was it about this man that drove her to weep for joy?
Gabe rubbed his hands together. “On our next visit to Archerville, I’d like to purchase the necessary items to make all of you new coats. And I believe new shoes and mufflers are also in order.”
This time Lena did cry. She hadn’t known where the money would come from to purchase the needed clothing for the boys. They grew so fast, and Caleb tended to wear out his clothes before Simon had an opportunity to wear them. “Oh, Gabe, you spent too much. Thank you, thank you ever so.”
He lightly brushed his fingers over her hand. “I have a little put aside for our needs.”
If I could only give to him what he’s given to me and our sons. He loved her and the boys, of this she felt certain.
Lena hurried to the bedroom to fetch her own small packages. She’d saved for Christmas since last summer. For Caleb and Simon, she had bought peppermint sticks and had sewn them warm shirts. The ones they wore for everyday use were thin and had been patched many times. The boys thanked her and dutifully placed a kiss on her cheek.
She handed Gabe his package, believing he’d like it, but nervous nevertheless. Slowly he unwrapped the gift, and at first she feared he was displeased.
“Not a day passes I don’t wish for a journal,” he said, running his fingers over the leather cover. Still staring at it, he continued, “Humorous and serious bits of conversation, happenings I refuse to forget, something new I’ve learned, lessons our Lord has taught me. . .” He glanced up at her. “Memories are what keep us alive. Thank you, Lena. I’ll treasure this always.”
Her heart leaped to tell him those precious words, but she couldn’t—not yet.
❧
“Stop it, Caleb!” Simon shouted as his face got thoroughly wiped with snow, courtesy of his older brother.
“What’s the matter with a little snow?” Caleb asked, holding Simon down with one hand and reaching for another handful with the other.
“You know what I’m talking about.” Simon sputtered and tried to punch him, but Caleb was faster and simply laughed. He coated Simon’s face with the cold snow.
“Tell me,” Caleb taunted.
“Pa,” Simon hollered. “Caleb keeps hitting me in the face with snow that the cow did her business in.”
Gabe groaned. What would those two do next? “Caleb, leave your little brother alone.”
“Do you want to hear what he did to me this morning?” Caleb protested.
Not really, but I guess I will.
“He locked me in the outhouse for nearly an hour.”
Gabe looked away to muffle his guffaw.
“You called me a runt,” Simon retorted. “And took my quilt last night and wouldn’t give it back.”
“Boys, I have the perfect solution to this,” Gabe said, wishing the boys could get along for one whole day without picking on each other. “Your mother is taking advantage of this cold weather by mending and such. The last I checked, she was preparing to darn socks—something each of you need to learn.”
Simon stared at him incredulously. “That’s woman’s work!”
I feel a lesson coming on. “I believe your mother worked like a man before we married.”
“That’s right,” Caleb said with an exasperated breath. “But since you’ve been here, Ma doesn’t have to do that anymore.”
Gabe lifted a brow. “Then show your gratitude. Inside, boys.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Caleb and Simon plodded to the soddy. Gabe grinned and turned his attention back to rearranging the tools inside the barn. He wondered what they’d think of next.
❧
Had four months really pa
ssed since Gabe arrived in Nebraska? The days flew by, each one blending into the next. He loved every moment of it, not once ever considering the natural demands of his family and farm as a hardship.
As had been his habit since the first morning, Gabe woke at the hint of dawn. He’d grown accustomed to sleeping on the tamped earthen floor by the fire, long since comprehending he had the warmest spot in the soddy, but this morning an eerie shriek of wind woke him. The howls carried a sense of foreboding, different than other bouts with high winds that ushered in heavy snowfall. Gabe’s concerns mounted for the livestock. They had a goodly stock of supplies and provisions, but he feared losing any of the animals to the cold. When the temperatures had plummeted in the past, the dugout had provided sufficient protection to ensure the warmth of the horses, mule, and chickens. But the cattle in the fields could not huddle close to a warm fire.
After slipping his overalls overtop his trousers and pulling his suspenders up, Gabe quickly added chips to the fire. Thankfully, we can keep the soddy warm.
“You’re up earlier than usual,” Lena said quietly. “I’m afraid we’re in for a bad storm.” In the shadows her silhouette and soft voice comforted him. His love for her abounded in moments like these. The freshness of sleep on her lovely face tempted him to reveal his heart. Fear of her rejecting him always halted his confession. He believed she cared and often saw something akin to affection in those green eyes, but he could be mistaken.
“Winter winds are attacking us again,” he said, making his way to the peg holding his outer garments. As he shrugged into his coat, he fretted over past snows. “Lena, how did you survive the winters alone? How did you deal with all of the work and responsibilities of this farm?”
“By God’s grace,” she answered. “When the wind tore around the soddy and snow banked against the door, or when in the heat of summer, tornadoes raged, I simply prayed.” She walked across the room and took his muffler from his hands. Wrapping it around his neck, she smiled. “God’s never failed me. Somehow I managed to make it through one perilous situation after another. Then He sent me you.” Her last words were spoken barely above a whisper.
Gabe warmed to his toes. Was she conscious of what her sweetness did to him? The emotion bursting inside him sought to surface. He longed to take her into his arms and declare his love. Oh, Lord, dare I?
“Tonight, after Caleb and Simon are in bed, I’d like to discuss a matter with you.” Gabe instantly regretted his choice of words. He sounded as though he wanted to propose a business transaction. “I mean, do you mind talking with me for awhile?”
“Is everything all right?” she asked, pulling her shawl around her shoulders.
“I believe so.” He dipped his hands into each mitten. “It’s not a topic you need to worry about, just a personal matter about which I wanted your opinion.” He offered a smile and grasped the latch on the door. “Come along, Turnip. We have work to do. From the sound of the wind, I may be blown to Archerville.”
She laughed lightly. “I’d come looking.”
Would you, my love? “How far would you venture?”
“As far as Philadelphia, and if you weren’t there, I’d look some more.”
thirteen
Outside, the biting cold and wind whipped around Gabe’s body with a fury he’d never experienced. He fought to stand and instead fell twice to his knees. The very thought of Lena and the boys existing in this ominous weather filled him with dread. Surely God had watched over them.
Once the animals were fed and cared for, he gathered up the quarter pail of milk and trekked back to the house before dawn. Only one of the cows had not gone dry, and the others had been turned out to pasture when they’d stopped producing milk. He caught a glimpse of the winding smoke from the fireplace, and he knew his family welcomed him inside. As always, Lena would have coffee ready.
Although the faint light of morning tore across the sky, he couldn’t study the clouds for the curtain of snow assaulting him from every direction. He’d studied clouds in his books and, together with Lena’s teachings, had learned to read nature’s map. This morning spelled blizzard, and already all he could see of the cabin was the fire twinkling through the window. Suddenly the wisp of smoke from the chimney vanished.
The Shafers would miss their ration of milk today, but he dared not risk losing his way in the snow. He’d missed bringing them milk before, and they had fared well. Obviously, this was a day to advance the boys in their lessons.
“Turnip,” he called. Normally the dog came bounding. “Turnip.” Gabe released a heavy sigh. He pondered looking for the animal. However, once he ventured out again into the blinding snow and ferocious wind, he abandoned his purpose, setting his sights on the beacon in the cabin window.
Turnip is probably in the house, lying by the fire all snuggly warm. Deserter.
Each step took his breath and cut at his face. He contemplated resting the pail on the snow and pulling the muffler tighter around his face but feared spilling the contents. If the blizzard raged on, they might need the milk.
“Gabe!” Lena called.
He glanced toward the cabin.
“Gabe!”
“Yes, I’m making progress,” he replied, the wind stinging his throat. “I see the firelight in the window.”
“I’m waiting for you.”
The dearest words this side of heaven. He’d stumble through ten blizzards for that endearing sound. “Don’t linger in the cold,” he called to her. “You’ll be ill.”
“Not until you get here.”
Stubborn woman, and he loved her for it.
Once he reached the front door, she opened it wide. A gust of wind sent it slamming so hard on the inner wall of the cabin that he feared the house would crumble. She stood covered from head to toe with the new coat, mittens, and muffler he’d purchased in Archerville. She reminded him of an Egyptian mummy he’d seen in a book.
“I should have given you a rope,” she said, shaking the snow from her coat.
“To tie about my waist and to the house?”
She nodded. “Don’t leave again without it. You could wander around for hours and freeze to death.”
He chuckled. “I know you’ve expressed concern over that condition before.” He hung his outer garments on the peg beside hers. The aroma of coffee mixed with frying cornmeal flapjacks filled his nostrils.
“Ready for coffee?” she asked, as if reading his thoughts.
“Absolutely.” He walked to the fireplace and glanced around for the dog. “Isn’t Turnip inside?”
She whirled around and stared at him. “No. He left with you.”
Where is the dog? He shivered, both from the bitter cold and the prospect of Turnip caught in its grip. “I need to find him.”
“Later, Gabe. You need to get out of those wet clothes.” She hesitated. “You’ve lost so much weight I believe you could wear James’s clothing. Let’s take a look. We can deal with the dog after breakfast.”
He followed her into the bedroom, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the unmade bed and the fresh scent of her lingering in every corner. If he were to wake up tomorrow and find himself blind, he’d live out his days with her face in his mind.
Lena pulled a trunk from beneath the rope bed and sorted through it. Gabe stood back, uncertain if he should invade her personal treasures.
“Here’s a shirt and overalls,” she said, handing him the carefully folded clothing. “I’m sure they will fit.”
“Will this plague you or the boys? Seeing me in his attire?”
She shook her head. “He’d be pleased they’d come to good use, and so am I.” She stepped from the small room and pulled a curtain separating the bedroom from the main room. “Do you mind if I let the boys sleep?”
“Let them,” he replied, examining the shirt and overalls. He felt oddly disconcerted by the knowledge that they’d belonged to Lena’s deceased husband. “Not much for them to do today with the blizzard.” And I need to find Turnip.
Gabe donned the clothes and caught sight of himself in Lena’s dresser mirror. I look so different—not at all like the Gabriel Hunters who left Philadelphia. What happened to my portly body?
In the midst of his second cup of coffee and a third flapjack smothered in molasses, he looked up to see Caleb making his way through the blanket separating the boys’ room from the fireplace and cookstove.
“Mornin’,” he greeted through sleepy eyes. “Sounds like we have a blizzard. Strange, we haven’t had one all winter.”
“We do, Son,” Gabe replied. “My first Nebraska blizzard, and it’s everything this family has warned. We’ll all stick close to the fire today; maybe do a little extra reading.”
Caleb grinned. “Sounds good to me.” Glancing about, he gave his mother a puzzled look. “Where’s Simon and Turnip?”
Lena’s face turned a ghastly shade of pale. She swallowed hard and called out. “Simon, are you using the chamber pot?”
No answer.
“I woke up, and he wasn’t there,” Caleb said softly. “He wouldn’t have wandered outside, would he?”
Gabe rose and made his way to the boys’ room. His coat. He prayed Simon’s coat hung on the peg beside his pallet.
“Simon?” Lena called, her voice anxious. . .and scared.
“He’s not here.” Gabe hurried to the front door. He couldn’t face Lena. First he’d lost Turnip, and now Simon had disappeared. “I’ll find him,” he said as he grabbed his winter garments. By the time he’d pulled on his mittens and wrapped the muffler around his face to bar the frigid cold, Lena had a rope.
“Tie one end around your waist and the other around one of the porch posts,” she said shakily.
He couldn’t avoid eye contact any longer. “I’ll not disappoint you or Simon.” Not waiting for her reply, he stepped out into the blizzard, praying harder than when he’d faced the wolves. At least then he could see his son and the face of danger. He felt his way to the right post anchoring the porch.
“Simon, where are you?” he called, but the wind sucked away his breath, and the words died in his throat. Securing the rope, he plodded toward the barn.
