“Is Margaret Clara’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Wish I’d known about Clara. That she died and all.” He swallowed. “And Mama and Pappy?”
“They’re dead, too, Lawrence. I’m sorry to deliver such bad news all in one evening.”
“Don’t fret none. Just give me a minute to get it all straight in my mind. My memory ain’t what it once was.”
“Neither is mine.” She hesitated. “Are you married?”
“My wife died in October.”
“I’m sorry. Did you have children?”
“She couldn’t have any, but we raised her niece like she was our own. Then the girl ran away ’fore my Harriet was cold in the grave. Don’t know why. I came to Pine Falls to fetch her home. Now I learned that she ain’t even here. She’s staying at a rooming house over in Hearten.”
“Hearten?” Regina’s eyes widened, and her voice sounded louder. “What’s the girl’s name?”
“Honor McCall. Why?”
“No!”
Regina’s face paled. Lucas thought she might be about to faint.
“What’s wrong, Regina? What did I say?”
A look of pure horror shone in her face. “Honor McCall is living at my rooming house in Hearten. And I think my son, your nephew, is sweet on her.”
His heart seemed to be doing flip-flops. In that moment, all his hope for a relationship with his sister and the rest of his relatives vanished. He took a breath and exhaled, trying to hide the sense of loss he felt.
“Honor said she had an uncle. And my son told me that Honor called him Lucas. I think she was afraid of Lucas. Are you that man, Lawrence? Are you Lucas?”
His muscles tensed even more, the way they always did when hate and anger boiled deep inside him. His hands became fists. Lucas stood, his jaw like stone. He had to get out of the house before he hurt somebody.
“Are you Lucas Scythe?” she exclaimed. “Tell me!”
He glanced toward the door. “Yes,” he shouted. “I am.”
Without another word, Lucas ran out of the house and down the darkened street. His hands shook. He felt trapped, discovered. He stopped and glanced back. The house looked dark except for one dim light in the parlor by the fireplace.
He needed a drink. Now!
Lucas kicked the trunk of a nearby tree. Then he stood a moment longer, shivering in the snow and cold. He’d left his jacket back at the house, but there was no chance he would go back for it now. Besides, his jacket was soaked with blood.
A lamp glowed in the distance, a few blocks down the street. He started running. With the street lamp to guide him, he should be able to find the nearest saloon.
He should never have allowed that preacher to talk him into giving up alcohol. It was never going to work, not for a drunk like Lucas Scythe.
In the bright light of morning, Honor was polishing the pump organ in the parlor, but her thoughts were on Lucas. She couldn’t get him out of her mind.
Mrs. Peters’s six-shooter was still under her bed, and nobody was likely to find it there. But if the time ever came, would she be able to use it, to pull the trigger? She hoped it never came to that.
She inhaled the perfume of beeswax and continued her chore. Dipping the cloth into the can of wax again, she thought she heard something. She stopped and listened hard.
She heard the scrape of the entry door opening, and Honor turned, trembling.
Timmy Rivers bounced inside, followed by Jeth. The mere sight of them washed away all thoughts of Lucas.
“Timmy!” Honor smiled. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, Miss McCall.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you,” Jeth said.
Honor looked behind the child, and her gaze met Jeth’s. Time stopped—at least for her. She glanced away so her feelings for him wouldn’t become apparent.
When she looked back, she noticed that snowflakes fell from Jeth’s and Timmy’s coats and caps onto the polished floor. Honor hardly cared.
Jeth frowned, looking down at his wet boots. “Why, we’re tracking snow inside, Timmy.” He looked at Honor and smiled as though he hoped to make amends. “Sorry.” He reached out and pulled Timmy back into the entry hall.
“We forgot to wipe our shoes on the rug, Timmy. Guess we better do it, don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir.”
Honor watched while they wiped their shoes and boots. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” she suggested. Honor took their coats and hats and hung them on hooks in the hall. Then she continued toward the kitchen.
“Hope your mother isn’t sick again,” Honor said to the child.
“No, Mama’s not sick. I came to thank you for my birthday gift.” He grinned. “Thank you, ma’am. I like my book very much.”
“I’m glad. Have you read it yet?”
“No, but the reverend and I plan to, don’t we, Reverend Peters?”
Jeth nodded and grinned.
“We’re going to read the book together,” Timmy said.
Jeth held up the book on kite-making for Timmy and Honor to see. Until that instant, she hadn’t known Jeth had it with him.
“Sit there at the table, then, you two,” Honor said, “while I get us some hot chocolate. Then you can tell me all about those plans of yours, Timmy.”
“The book has drawings in it.” Timmy sat down at the table beside Jeth. “And it tells exactly how to make a kite that will really and truly fly. Reverend Peters and I are going to study the drawings in the book today and learn how to do it right, aren’t we.”
“We certainly are.” Jeth pulled a roll of string from his pocket and set it on the table. “And remember, Timmy, getting the right kind of string, the right kind of paper and the right kind of wood is very important if we want your kite to fly. And we might need to take some wood off the sticks we use before making the frame. Heavy wood won’t do with kites. You have to make the wood lighter. Ever done any whittling, boy?”
Timmy shook his head. “Mama won’t let me play with knives.”
“You have a wise mama. You can help cut the paper and wind the string.” Jeth opened the book and pointed to one of the drawings. “Now, there’s a kite!”
A few moments later, Honor set three cups of hot chocolate on the table. Then she came around behind them and leaned over their shoulders. The drawing they studied looked identical to all the other drawings in the book. She wondered what they found so unique about that one, but decided not to ask.
Jeth glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. “We’re going to start building the kite today, but Timmy probably won’t be able to fly it until springtime. Now, isn’t this the best set of plans you’ve ever seen for a kite?”
“Oh, yes,” Honor said. “That drawing is special. Anyone can see that. I’m glad you boys chose that one instead of one of the others in the book.”
Smiling, Honor sat down at the table and drank her chocolate. She didn’t intend to say much. She didn’t need to. Honor enjoyed just being there, watching the two of them have fun together on a snowy December day.
Jeth was going to make a wonderful father. She tried not to wonder who the mother of his children might be.
Lucas lay on the floor of his rented room. Some sound had wakened him. He yawned. What time was it? He glanced toward the east window. The window and wooden shutters were partly open. Snowflakes plugged the spaces between the slats, and more snow poured in from outside. He would get up and close the window when he found the desire to do it, not before.
A loud rap sounded at the door. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone?
Lucas got up slowly, wobbled to the door and opened it. Regina stood on the landing outside, holding his jacket. Obviously, she’d washed it.
“Well.” His sister sent him a smile he had not expected. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? It’s cold out here.”
“Shore, come on in.”
Lucas wasn’t surprised to find snow on t
he ground, but he hadn’t expected to see so much. Of course, he had no memory of anything that had taken place after he left the Starlings’.
Regina stood just inside his rented room, looking slightly bewildered.
“Let me warn you, Regina,” he said, nodding toward his untidy room, “I ran out of wood for the stove.”
“I’ll keep my cape on.”
Regina put his jacket on a hook. He closed the door, then shoved his dirty clothes from the chair and motioned for his sister to take a seat. When she did, he settled at the foot of his unmade bed.
She eyed the empty whiskey bottles. “Are you drunk, Lawrence?”
“Let’s say I’m hung on the clothesline to dry.”
“Then dry up. I have a lot I want to say.”
“If you’re trying to get me to stop drinking, save yourself the trouble. I ain’t never gonna quit. I like drinking.”
The pain that he saw in her eyes made him feel guilty. He glanced away.
“You know, Lawrence, there are some things we just shouldn’t do, even if we enjoy doing them.” She cleared her throat. “For example, remember how I always broke out in a rash when I ate strawberries?”
Lucas nodded.
“You might not know this, but I dearly love strawberries, especially when I dip them in honey. Nothing tastes better. But I can’t eat strawberries because they make me sick. I break out. And your drinking makes you sick. That’s why you shouldn’t drink, no matter how good liquor might taste to you.”
“Strawberries and alcohol ain’t the same.”
“No, but they affect some people in the same way.”
Since he had no interest in hearing more on the subject, Lucas studied his bare feet. His toes felt like ice. He reached for a pair of dirty socks beside him on the bed and put them on.
It was time to look his sister square in the eye and try to change the subject. Either that or throw her out in the snow.
“How’s Sammy doing?” he asked.
“Very well, thank you. God is good.”
“Then why am I a drunk? I tried to stop, really tried. Even went to church once here in Pine Falls. I wanted to be a good person like the rest of my family. But it ain’t working. Nothing ever does.”
“You can’t change yourself. Nobody can. You must become a Christian first. Let the Lord take care of your drinking habit.”
“Well, with you and all them other good folks around, God don’t need my name written down in that book of His.”
Even as he said the words he regretted them. These past weeks, especially, he’d felt a nagging desire to belong in such a book. But he couldn’t tell his sister that. She might think he was just making excuses for what he’d done to Honor and Harriet. Regina couldn’t know that he’d hurt Ruby, too.
“You must mean the Lamb’s Book of Life.” She hesitated. “God loves you, Lawrence. He really does, and He wants your name written in His book. People whose names are written in God’s book will go to heaven when they die.”
“Then what must I do to get my name in that book you mentioned?”
“Repent! That’s the first step.”
“Repent? You mean, admit I done wrong?”
“Yes.”
Was Regina out of her mind? Nobody would willingly admit to all the things Lucas had done.
She got down on her knees in front of her chair and motioned for Lucas to join her. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t. He didn’t know how to be the kind of man everybody had always wanted him to be. Besides, it was too late—for him.
She closed her eyes, and her lips began to move. He knew she was praying. For the first time in years, he wanted to pray, too. If he knelt beside her, would she know he was there? And if it didn’t work out, would she also know that?
Careful not to make a sound, he got down on his knees beside his sister and shut his eyes. But nothing happened. Now what? His mind went blank. Being on his knees didn’t seem right. He wasn’t worthy. He might as well face the fact that he could never be good enough. He started to rise.
“Get back down, Lawrence,” she said.
He’d been so quiet. And she hadn’t opened her eyes once. How had she known?
“We can pray together,” she added.
“I—I can’t, Regina. I don’t know how to pray.”
“Just repeat what I say.”
Slowly, he got back down on his knees. He folded his hands and shut his eyes.
“Heavenly Father,” she prayed aloud. “I have not followed Your commandments or walked in Your ways, and I am truly sorry—”
“Wait!” Lucas looked over at Regina and touched her wrist. “I’ll never be able to remember all that.”
“Say it in your own words, then. The Lord will like that better anyway.”
Lucas nodded—more to himself than to Regina.
“Heavenly Father, I ain’t never followed Your commandments or done much of anything right. Anyways, I shore am sorry. I’d be much obliged if You would forgive my sins and come into my heart and life right about now. Regina and Reverend Kline said You would come if I asked Ya to. Well, I reckon I’m asking. And I’m asking in the name of that son of Yours, Jesus. Like I used to hear Mama do. Amen.”
Lucas remained on his knees for a long time. He wasn’t exactly praying because he didn’t know what else to say, but he wanted God to know he was available for service now. Alternately, he felt shy and ashamed, and then full of joy.
All at once, Lucas felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was sure he must be ten pounds lighter. When tears moistened his eyes, he knew with certainty that he was in the presence of God. It was the first time in his life that he felt truly clean.
Reverend Kline had said that God saved a person as soon as that person requested salvation, but Lucas had spent a lot of years wrecking his life and the lives of others. Lucas would stay on his knees until he sensed that God had entered his name in the Lamb’s Book of Life.
At last, he rose. A new sense of purpose and a well-spring of love that he planned to share with others filled his heart.
“I need to tell the Klines what I done,” he finally said to Regina. “Let them know I repented and all. I also have to tell ’em I’m leaving Pine Falls.”
“Leaving?”
He nodded. “I’ve got debts to pay and a ranch to run, and there’s a woman I gotta see by the name of Ruby. I plan to marry her—if she’ll have me.” He gazed at his sister, searching for the right words. “And Regina, there’s something I want you to do for me.”
“What’s that?”
Lucas went to the chest and opened the top drawer. He pulled out the pearl necklace and handed it to his sister. “I’d be obliged if ya would give these here pearls to Honor. They belonged to her aunt and to her grandmother before that. I think she should have them.”
“Oh, Lawrence, I think so, too. I really do. And I know she’ll be so grateful when I give them to her.”
Lucas didn’t know what else to say, but a new emotion swept over him. He smiled, wondering: Is this what folks call happiness?
Ten days before Christmas, rain and a cold wind swooped down from the north. Before getting out of bed that morning, Honor heard the patter of rain hitting the tin roof, then the sounds disappeared as the downpour turned into softly falling snow.
She snuggled under her covers, protected from the frosty air in her bedroom. The fire in the woodstove had died during the night. With her head on the feather pillow, Honor watched her breath puff out like smoke, curling, then slowly fading away. Needing to start her day, she gathered her courage, threw back the covers and got up.
Shivering, she stoked the black cast-iron stove and put in fresh firewood. In the dim light, she dressed quickly. Then she stood at her window, looking out at the golden sunrise, and at a white, fairy-tale world of incredible beauty.
A thick layer of snow covered the ground and the driveway in front of the boardinghouse. Trees glistened like silver. Soon, children in brightly
colored caps and neck scarves would be coasting down the hill beyond the road on wooden sleds with metal rims. When the water hardened, no doubt they would be skating on the frozen pond.
Honor was reluctant to leave her spot by the window, and by the time she went downstairs to the kitchen, Belinda was already there, rolling out biscuit dough.
“Are we ever going to have a Christmas tree?” Belinda teased. “The guests keep asking, especially Mrs. Clark and Mrs. Davis.”
“Did Mrs. Peters put up a tree every year?” Honor asked.
“Always.”
“Then I guess we should put up one, too.” Honor grabbed the skillet from a hook hanging from the ceiling and reached for the bacon. “Belinda, would you like to go out later and look for a Christmas tree? Just the two of us? Might be fun.”
“Why not get our pastor to help you find a tree?” Belinda suggested. “With all this cold weather, he probably won’t venture out on church duties today. He should have time to help in your search.”
“Belinda Grant, are you matchmaking again?”
“Me?” Belinda feigned innocence, pressed her hand to her chest and fluttered her eyelashes. “How could you accuse me of such a thing? So, are you going to ask our minister or not?”
Honor shrugged, pretending she had no idea what Belinda was talking about. “Ask him what?”
“To take you out to find a Christmas tree, of course.”
“Oh, that.” Honor hesitated, wondering how to reply. “Well, what if I should ask him and he says no. The reverend’s a busy man, you know.”
Belinda shook her head. “The reverend won’t say no, Miss McCall. Not to you, anyway.”
Chapter Nineteen
After breakfast, Honor noticed when Jeth left the formal dining room. Before he reached the door, he looked back at Honor and grinned. “That breakfast you fixed was mighty good. I gotta have another cup of your coffee.”
Honor followed him into the kitchen. “Go sit at the table. I’ll bring your coffee to you.”
Molly Noble Bull Page 23
