Susanna felt a chill go up her spine. Miss Angela’s family had suffered at the hands of a conqueror just as hers had. “How can you speak so casually about it? Seems as if you would despise all Americans.”
Miss Angela shrugged. “The Indians, whose land was stolen in the first place, have tried to drive us all out since the days of the conquistadores, but they, too, fight among themselves. Even now the Utes try to intimidate the whites into leaving. But there are too many for them to drive out. If they go to war, what good will it do? No good at all, only death, only grief for everyone. To have peace in here—” she tapped her chest above her heart “—it is better to forgive. Better to see others through the eyes of Dios.” She tightened the cord around the mouth of the bag of potatoes she’d just filled. “Better to find the place where Dios wants you to be, better to become the person He wants you to be. That alone brings true peace inside you.”
Peace. How Susanna longed for it. Forgiveness did seem a better path to finding it, a better attitude than bitterness, so she would try to follow Miss Angela’s example in regards to Colonel Northam. The entire North, in fact. She’d seen Daddy struggle with it, and now he seemed at peace. Miss Angela was a good influence on him, and maybe having Mama’s valuables had helped to settle the matter for him. At least now Susanna and Miss Angela didn’t have to worry about his taking revenge and possibly getting hanged.
“Dios wants us to have joy,” Miss Angela said. “Sometimes He wants us to be with a special person.” She gave Susanna a teasing grin. “I know this one young vaquero guapo, very kind, very strong, very handsome. Maybe Dios wants you to be with him?”
While Susanna appreciated her wise advice, her frequent hints about Nate didn’t help in the slightest. Yes, he was all the things she said, but if he wasn’t willing to go against his father, they had no future together.
Shading her eyes, she surveyed the section of field they’d just harvested for any missed potatoes. Lazy Daisy scampered across the field, and Susanna chased after her, catching her before she reached the edge. In the distance, across the river, she saw a familiar form of man on a horse, and her heart skipped. Nate! Before she could wave, he turned his horse southward and rode away. Had he been watching over her all this time? Maybe he was working up the courage to visit her.
In the days that followed, however, he didn’t come. Nor did she encounter any of the other Northam family members in the burgeoning settlement. On Sundays, to avoid possible unpleasantness, Daddy took his household to the community church in Del Norte.
With each passing week, Susanna grew more and more resigned to her loss. Maybe when spring arrived, she should return to Marietta as she’d planned, marry a Southern gentleman and forget all about a certain cowboy.
But that thought no longer satisfied her daydreams. In fact, it didn’t sit well with her at all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Even though Nate had only seen Susanna at a distance, he relished the memory of watching her in the field. He’d laughed at the puppy’s antics as Susanna tried to work, but he hadn’t had time to cross the river and talk to her. In a hurry to get back home from doing an errand for Mother, he’d consoled himself that he would see her at church on his last Sunday before roundup. When the MacAndrewses hadn’t shown up, he had a hard time listening to Reverend Thomas’s sermon. Every time he heard feet shuffling behind him, he’d turned to see if they were coming through the door.
On the ranch, once the Colonel had returned, no one spoke of the incident with the MacAndrewses. Thus, nothing much had changed for the Northam family, except for the gaping hole Nate felt without Susanna in the house. He sort of suspected Rosamond and Mother missed her, too, and of course they all missed Angela.
Now up in the hills to bring down the herd, Nate lingered by the chuck wagon to eat his supper to avoid joining the Colonel, Rand and the other boys around the campfire. Why his father had felt it necessary to come on this roundup was beyond him. Once again the Colonel was managing everything. He seemed so pleased with Rand’s repentance over his gambling and his staying awake in church that he barely noticed Nate’s constancy. Nor did he spend any time with Tolley. At fifteen, the boy had no friends his own age with whom to release his boyish foolishness, so one of these days he might do something rash to get the Colonel’s attention. Nate tried to commend his youngest brother at every opportunity, but the boy’s hangdog glances at their father showed whose approval he really wanted. Nate understood how he felt.
After turning his tin plate and fork over to Cookie after supper, he sat on his bedroll and leaned back against his saddle to gaze at the sky, just as he and Susanna had done the first night after they met back in June. The countless number of stars strewn across the night sky reminded him of the tiny diamonds on the necklace Susanna had reclaimed. Of course, everything reminded him of something about Susanna. Further, he still missed his chats with Mr. MacAndrews. Now, there was an attentive father, a man who set an example Nate wanted to follow when and if he ever had children of his own. Not that the old man was perfect. Nate would never drag a daughter halfway across the continent just to reclaim some stolen valuables. Of course, if Mr. MacAndrews hadn’t done so, Nate never would have met Susanna, a depressing thought.
Words from Reverend Thomas’s Sunday sermon came to mind. Speaking on the story of the Prodigal Son, he’d said, Only God can be the perfect Father. Nate couldn’t argue with that.
He eyed the Colonel, whom he’d not called Dad again since that fateful day weeks ago in Del Norte. His father’s face, never in the least bit fleshy, now had a thin, haggard look. Did he struggle with guilt over the incident at the MacAndrews plantation? If not that, something was eating at him, and for once Nate felt sorry for him. Too bad he didn’t have a close friend to confide in, somebody like Mr. Foster, who’d served with him in the war and would understand his struggles.
One thing Nate was sure about. He was tired of being angry and bitter. The preacher’s sermon had spoken to him, and he’d vowed that day he wouldn’t be like the Prodigal Son’s bitter older brother. Holding on to a grudge was like holding a rattler to his chest, just waiting for it to bite. Lord, I’m letting go. You take over.
No matter what the Colonel did or didn’t do, he would show him respect, real, honest respect. As for Rand, Nate would keep on praying he’d never go back to gambling. And Tolley? Well, he’d watch over the kid like the Colonel should be doing. In only one matter would Nate stand up to his father. When they returned to the ranch, he would announce his plans to ask Mr. MacAndrews if he could court Susanna. If the Colonel said no, Nate would seek the Lord’s guidance for the next step. If God told him to move out and move on, he’d do that.
“I sent Rand out to see about those calves we branded today.” The Colonel eased himself down beside Nate.
Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed his father’s approach. Here was his first chance to keep his vow. “Good idea.” Any one of the men could have done it. Maybe his father wanted to give Rand more responsibility, as Nate had suggested.
“You doing all right?” his father said.
Where had that come from? It was a question his father never asked him.
“Yessir.” He had the strange notion he was being tested, but whether by God or the Colonel, he didn’t know. He sent up a quick prayer for wisdom.
“I’ve been thinking.” His father looked up at the sky and released a long, weary sigh. “A man who steals from helpless women and children is no better than those thieves who stole MacAndrews’s horses.”
Nate’s spine tingled. Yes, this was a test, but not what he’d expected. The Colonel was confiding in him, something he’d never anticipated. Could he be the friend his father needed? He searched for a response to the Colonel’s declaration, but no words would come.
“We did what we had to do. We got the job done. We scorched the South and won the war. The slaves were f
reed, the Union saved.”
Right about now, Nate thought he should say, Praise the Lord, but he couldn’t speak. So he continued his silent prayer.
“But that doesn’t stop the guilt.”
Nate longed to tell his father he had no cause to feel guilty, but the words stuck in his throat. He didn’t believe it, anyway. War or not, he’d done wrong.
“I’ve been burying my memories all these years. It feels good to have them out in the open. Now I can face what I did and confess it to the Lord.”
Nate nodded, still unable to speak. By now he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to.
“That boy, Rand.” The Colonel grunted. “He reminds me of my little brother, the one who ran away to join the army and died at Gettysburg. Our father was always pretty harsh with him. I think that’s why he ran away. I never wanted to make that mistake with Rand.”
Nate swallowed hard. So all this time, the Colonel had been acting out of fear, not favoritism for his middle son. Now that Nate thought on it, the favoritism had begun after Rand disobeyed their father’s orders while they were building the ranch house and suffered that bad fall from the roof.
“Not like you.” The Colonel clapped Nate on the shoulder. “I could always trust you to do the right thing.” He chuckled. “Of course, you’ve always been Mr. Knows-It-All, but I’m glad to see you’ve listened to the preacher’s talk on Proverbs. Knowledge isn’t worth much if it’s not accompanied by wisdom.” He grunted again. “But your attitude isn’t a surprise. You remind me of a young lieutenant I used to know.”
From his rueful grin, Nate guessed he was talking about himself. Still, the knows-it-all charge was valid. Nate had always been proud of his ability to tackle any job and do it well. He was good at figuring things out, sometimes even better than his father. However, such talents were gifts from the Lord and didn’t give him the right to be boastful. He’d be wise to keep thinking on that.
“Get some sleep.” The Colonel stood and ambled toward his own bedroll. “You have the next watch.”
Nate started to say, I know that. He caught the words just in time. “Good night, Dad.”
The Colonel looked his way and gave him a slight smile. “Good night, son.”
Nate couldn’t begin to describe the feeling of peace flooding his soul. He knew only that his relationship with his father would be all right from now on. And now he realized his father hadn’t been referring to Susanna as the strange woman in Proverbs, hadn’t been thinking about her at all. So maybe, just maybe, he could persuade Dad to revise his opinion of Susanna, who’d never done him any harm.
* * *
Susanna double-checked the contents of the prairie schooner. Miss Angela’s special corn bread, potato salad, ham sandwiches, green beans, one plain cake for serving right away, a second fancier cake for a cakewalk prize. And, of course, Susanna’s pralines. Trepidation and excitement vied for control of her emotions as the family packed for their journey into the settlement. The entire community would be meeting for their annual Harvest Home in the field next to the church and across the road from Williams’s Café and Winsted’s General Store. They would have speeches, horse races, games for grown-ups, games for the children, singing, dancing and far more food than all of them put together could consume.
She would see Nate today, and the thought made her insides flutter. After learning two weeks ago he’d gone on a roundup, she’d realized he hadn’t been ignoring her. Even so, she had no idea how she would behave when she saw him. If Miss Angela was right, Nate would be eager to see her, but Susanna wouldn’t count on it. If his loyalties lay with his father, he’d probably done his best to forget her.
As for her view of the Colonel, she’d taken Miss Angela’s advice to heart and concentrated on forgiving him. His plundering of the plantation hadn’t been a personal attack against her family. Even Daddy admitted to being troubled by his own actions during the war, so how could she hate a Yankee officer who was doing his duty, however evil that duty might be? She’d probably never like the Colonel, but she could show him God’s love, just as Miss Angela had taught her. On the other hand, if she and Nate did mend their fences and marry, she would resign herself to his father’s dislike. Back home, her poor brother, Edward, never did anything right, according to his mother-in-law.
The five-mile trip to the settlement seemed to take forever. At last, the church spire came into view, then the larger homes and, last of all, the two-story general store. Zack drove the wagon into the field and found a spot where the horses could graze. Susanna jumped down from the driver’s bench and helped Miss Angela and Daddy carry their food to plank tables set up beneath the cottonwoods.
Their arrival was noticed right away by the other ladies. While many called out greetings, Mrs. Northam offered a wary smile. Rosamond hurried around the table and pulled Susanna into a tight embrace, nearly knocking her over. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” Susanna’s voice broke, and tears sprang to her eyes. Oh, bother. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry.
To cover their heightened emotions, both girls began to rearrange various bowls and plates on the table, chattering along with the other ladies about the abundant harvest. Across the way, Susanna caught sight of the Colonel and gasped softly to herself. In the few short weeks since she’d last seen him, he appeared to have aged ten years. The lines of his face had deepened considerably, and his dark brown hair was streaked with gray. Even his posture, always military straight, was now slightly bowed. To her surprise, he approached Daddy.
“MacAndrews, may I have a minute of your time?” His voice lacked its usual booming authority. “Will you accompany me to a more private location?” He waved a hand toward the church.
For a moment, Daddy stared up at the taller man with a calm regard. Then he gave a curt nod. When Miss Angela tried to follow, Daddy whispered something to her, and she let them go.
Susanna tried to busy herself, but her hands were shaking.
“They’ll be all right.” Nate’s words, spoken softly near her ear, sent a shiver of surprise and happiness down her neck.
She looked up to see his charming, lopsided grin and those bright green eyes. Her heart did a dozen somersaults, and she found it hard to breathe. With some difficulty, she managed to say, “La-di-da, Mr. Nate Northam, I’m sure they will be just fine.” But it all came out on a sigh, not at all the saucy tone she’d intended.
His gaze intensified, and his smile disappeared. “May I speak to you privately over by your wagon?” Worry lines appeared on his forehead and around his eyes.
“Yes.” Rosamond gave Susanna a shove. “Go.”
Even Miss Angela tilted her head in that direction, granting both permission and her blessing.
“Very well.” Susanna took Nate’s offered arm and walked with him to the site.
When they arrived, he lifted her up onto the lowered tailgate and leaned against its side. “We have a lot of things to sort out.” He gave her a doubtful look. “That is, if you’re interested.”
Every pert answer she might have given him fled from her mind. “I’m interested. Go on.”
“Your father...” He looked out across the field and chewed his lower lip. “I mean, my father...”
“Nate.” She set a hand on his arm. “This isn’t about their quarrel or about the war or about anything else. This is about you and me.”
“You’re right. It is.” His worried expression cleared. “I’ve already told Dad I’m going to ask your father if I can court you, but considering the circumstances, I thought I’d—”
“Wait.” She held up one hand to punctuate her interruption. “You’re asking me whether you can ask my father to ask me whether I want to court.” She burst into an uncontrollable giggle that almost pitched her off the tailgate. Surely, her giddiness came from relief and joy.
Nate laughed, too. Then he guffawed, a sound that lifted Susanna’s heart clear up to the top of the nearby cottonwoods. “Yep. That’s about right.”
As soon as she could control herself, she forced a sober tone into her voice. “Well, I don’t know, Nate Northam. If you’ll kindly recall, you did call me a thief.” She challenged him with a hard stare.
He blinked and frowned. “Yes, I guess I did.” He crossed his arms and gave her a sidelong look. “I still say you’re a thief.”
Her jaw fell open, and she had a hard time closing it. “Why, Nate Northam. How dare you?” All her hopes exploded in a painful burst.
She started to jump to the ground, but he swung around in front of her and placed his hands on the tailgate on either side of her.
“Now, don’t deny it.” There went that grin again. “You stole my heart.”
“Oh, you!” She smacked his hand while joy and relief flooded back into her chest. “Yes, I want you to speak to Daddy. Yes, you may court me.” She shook a scolding finger in his face. “Just don’t plan on a long courtship, you hear me?”
He offered a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.”
“Oh, Nate.” She touched his cheek, enjoying the gentle scratch of his late-morning stubble.
“Oh, Susanna,” he sang in his slightly off-pitch way. “Oh, won’t you marry me?”
Her heart still giddy with joy, she giggled again. Mama would be appalled at her lack of self-control. No, under the circumstances, Mama would be laughing, too.
“Young man.” Daddy marched toward the wagon, followed by the Colonel. “You have not asked my permission to court my daughter.”
Not doubting his approval for a moment, Susanna gave Nate a mock-worried frown. “Oh, my. What are you going to do now?”
Cowboy to the Rescue Page 23
