End of the Trail

by Vickie McDonough

  “He’s been hurt. He’s at the doctor’s office.”

  Phillip nudged his pa’s shoulder. “Can we go see him? C’mon, Pa.”

  Keri could see the struggle in Riley Morgan’s eyes. He longed to see his son, but the hurt from the past was still there. She reached out to touch him, but stopped short of her goal. “I think you’ll find Brooks to be different. He’s a good man, Mr. Morgan.”

  “He owns a ranch now, up near Shoofly,” Mrs. Morgan said.

  The man was obviously surprised, but then his expression changed. “How could he live so close to us and never tell us? Didn’t he realize we’ve been wondering if he was even still alive?” He crossed his arms and walked to the back door and stared out.

  Keri sipped her tea, uncomfortable with witnessing the emotions of the Morgan family at the news their prodigal son had come to town. She needed to get back before he awoke from his nap, or he’d probably find his clothes and be gone when she returned. He made a grumpy patient.

  “Well, are we going to see my big brother or not?” Phillip stepped farther into the room, and Keri could see similarities in the brothers, although they were different more than they were alike. “Someone needs to tell Melissa.”

  Mrs. Morgan snapped her fingers. “That’s right. Phillip, you ride over and tell her what’s happening, and you can meet us in town.”

  “Yeehaw! Can’t wait to see Missy’s face.” He shot out the kitchen door.

  “Miss Langston, if you’re ready to go back, I’ll ride with you, and my husband can come on his horse when he’s ready.”

  Keri noticed the woman didn’t say “if and when.” She seemed to know her struggling husband would follow.

  Mrs. Morgan grabbed a tin can off a shelf, shoveled in a dozen cookies, then hurried from the room. By the time Keri caught up with her she was at the door with her sunbonnet on. “Ready?”

  Keri smiled at her eagerness. She may be the only woman left in the house, but it was easy to see who was the boss. They climbed in the buggy, and Keri started it down the road, then glanced back at the cozy house. Mr. Morgan stood on the front porch, all by himself.

  “Don’t worry about Riley. He’ll be along. He’s just struggled all these years with thinking he was too hard on Brooks. Riley fought in the war for nearly four years, and that makes a man tough. Hard. But he’s a good man with a big heart. He can just be stubborn at times.”

  Keri chuckled. “That sounds a lot like Brooks, except he tries to joke and charm his way out of problems.”

  Mrs. Morgan nodded. “That sounds like my son. Always the charmer.” She wrung her hands—the only outward sign of her nervousness. “I want so much for things to be good between us again. I’ve prayed thousands of prayers for Brooks, asking God to keep him safe, to help him to be happy and find a place to call home.”

  Keri guided the wagon to the left where the road split. “I believe God must have answered some of those prayers. Brooks has been going to church regularly lately.”

  “Oh, blessed be the name of the Lord.” Mrs. Morgan pressed her closed fists against her mouth. “I’ve prayed so hard that Brooks would make peace with God.”

  Keri followed the road back to Waco, filling Mrs. Morgan in on how she and Brooks met and the status with the ranch.

  “My son always had a good heart. I’m glad that he’s letting you and your mother stay in the house. Dare I hope there could be something more than a business relationship between the two of you?”

  Keri’s cheeks, already warm from the hot afternoon sun, heated even more. “I don’t know. Maybe. One day.” She pulled up at the doctor’s office, grateful for the timing and for not having to talk any more about her relationship with Brooks. She hardly understood it herself.

  But seeing him lying in that field, bloody and hurt, had changed something. It made her realize just how fast she could lose him—and she didn’t want to lose him.

  As she climbed down from the buggy, Mr. Morgan rode around the corner on his horse. Mrs. Morgan glanced across the buggy at her and winked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Brooks leaned against the wall, trying to read the Bible the doctor had loaned him, but the tiny print kept blurring together. He slammed it shut and set it on the table. He needed to get back to Raven Creek. Who knew what kind of problems Saul Dengler could be causing?

  And where is Keri? She was supposed to be here when he awoke to keep him company and tend to him. He smiled in spite of his grumpiness. What a lovely nurse she had made. If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect she cared for him. He’d seen her worried glances over the past few days.

  He fiddled with a frayed edge on the sheet. His feelings for Keri had taken him by surprise. He’d never been in love before and didn’t know how to act. If Keri would just marry him, things would be perfect. They could share the ranch, and he could move into the house, although they’d have to do something with Grace. He snapped his fingers. That was it. She could have Keri’s room, and he and Keri would take Will’s bigger room. Perfect.

  If only the stubborn, pigheaded Miss Langston would say yes.

  The bell on the doctor’s door jangled, and the object of his affections walked in. She smiled, but he noted a hesitancy—not her normal smile. Was something wrong at the ranch? He had to get out of here. He grabbed the sheet to toss it off and realized that all he wore was his drawers. Quickly, he pulled the sheet up, and forced himself to be content with Keri’s company. But this was his last day in bed.

  A man and woman entered after Keri, to see the doc most likely. But they didn’t seek out the man who sat at his desk across the room. Instead they focused on him. His heart pounded like Indian war drums, and he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Ma. Pa.

  He ducked his head, ashamed of the way he’d worried them and the trouble he’d caused everybody. Why had Keri brought them here? He pinned her with a glare, but his mother stepped in front of her, blocking his view. Ma looked so vulnerable. So hopeful.

  “It’s really you, isn’t it, son?”

  “Yep, the prodigal son has come home. Are you going to kill the fatted calf?” He grinned because he couldn’t let his folks see all the emotions swarming him like mad hornets.

  “How about some chicken and dumplings instead?” his mother asked. She held out a small tin. “And this.”

  He took it, opened the lid, and sniffed. His eyes blurred with tears, and his throat tightened. “Oatmeal cookies?” he rasped.

  She nodded, tears coursing down her cheeks. “The Good Lord must have known you’d be here and gave me a hankering for oatmeal cookies. I baked them this morning.”

  He set the can on the table next to the bed and swung his feet to the ground, keeping the sheet around his middle. He cast a glance at Keri, hoping she could read his request for help. Keri pushed around his mother and came to his side, but as she reached down to help him, his father stepped forward. Brooks gazed up at the man he’d hated for so many years, and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why he’d despised him. “I’m sorry, Pa.”

  His mother sucked in a sob as his pa lifted him to his feet. His father turned and wrapped him in a bear hug. “I’m sorry too, son. Forgive me if I was too hard on you.”

  His pa slapped him on the back several times, and Brooks gritted his teeth from the pain, then his mother embraced him, and they stood together, a family united again.

  He glanced at Keri and smiled then gazed up at the ceiling. Thank You, Lord.

  Three hours later, after the doc had given him permission to walk across the street and eat supper with his parents, his brother, and his sister and her family, Brooks couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted. He sat on the edge of the bed, reluctant to say good-bye but wishing he could lie down and go to sleep.

  “We need to head home,” his pa said. “It will be dark soon.”

  “We’ll be back tomorrow.” His mother bent and hugged him around the neck, then kissed him on the cheek. “I’m so glad to see you again and to see
the man you’ve become.” She leaned up against his ear. “Don’t let that pretty gal get away from you.” She stood and winked.

  Next Melissa bent and hugged him. “Don’t stay away so long next time, little brother.”

  Five-year-old Abby and two-year-old Mikey both hugged their father’s legs, staring at him. Brooks waved, and Abby waved back, but Mikey ducked behind his pa’s leg. Melissa pried them off, and Jarrod Banks, her husband, walked toward him. Brooks forced himself up off the bed and shook the man’s hand. “It’s good to meet you. Thanks for taking such good care of my sister.”

  He nodded. “My pleasure. You’re welcome at our house anytime.” He winked. “And bring your lady friend,” he whispered.

  Brooks glanced at Keri, who stood back, leaning against the doctor’s desk. She glanced at him and smiled.

  Next, Phillip walked up and stared at him, nearly eye-to-eye. Brooks shook his head. “I still can’t get over how you’ve grown up, little brother,” Brooks said.

  Phillip grinned. “I still can’t get used to how old you’ve gotten, big brother.”

  Chuckles filled the room, and Phillip wrapped him in a big hug. “It’s really good to have you back, Brooks.”

  His pa was the last to say good-bye. He’d been quiet much of the evening, and Brooks wasn’t sure if he was glad he’d returned or not. He wanted a relationship with his father. With the train running between their two towns, a weekend trip on occasion wasn’t out of the question. Maybe they could even spend Christmas together—if his pa was willing. And maybe Josh could come home then too and bring his family. He shook his head, hardly able to believe that his older brother was married and was a doctor in a small town in South Dakota. He hadn’t thought about it before, but he was an uncle now.

  Keri pushed away from the desk, and she followed the others outside. The door shut, and he and his pa were alone. Brooks swallowed the lump in his throat.

  Riley Morgan stood with his head ducked and fiddling with the hat he held. Brooks didn’t know what to say to make things easier for his father. The only thing he could think of was, “I’m sorry Pa

  His pa’s lips tightened, and he glanced up with tears shimmering in his eyes. “I’m sorry too, son. I responded in anger when forgiveness should have been foremost.”

  Tears burned Brooks’s eyes. “It wasn’t you, Pa. I was a stupid, rebellious kid. I wanted to come back home so many times, but I was stubborn and immature. I hope you and Ma can forgive me for all the pain I’ve caused you.”

  He shook his head and shrugged, stealing Brooks’s hopes.

  “Done. We forgave you years ago, but we never stopped missing you.”

  He struggled to hold back his emotions, but it was in vain. Brooks fell against his pa’s solid chest and felt as if he’d come home again. His tears wetted his father’s shirt, just as his father’s tears did his. A peace that Brooks hadn’t known before—except that day he asked God into his heart—flooded him.

  He was home.

  Two days later, Brooks tugged on his boots. He was ready to get back to the ranch but hated leaving his family. At least his parents were riding back on the train with him and Keri. His father had taken care of the doctor’s bill—a big relief since he had no money. The Katy railroad was offering them free passage home because he had been injured at Crush. He just wanted to get to the ranch and see how things had fared while they had been gone.

  He buttoned his shirt and walked to the door, looking for Keri. She should have been here already. They were scheduled to meet his parents at the café for breakfast, then catch the train. Ah, there she was, looking pretty in her new blue calico dress.

  She hiked her skirts, revealing her boots underneath, and jogged across the street. When she cut in front of a wagon, his heart jolted. Crazy woman. He pulled the door open. “What’s the big hurry? We’re not in so much of a rush that you need to risk your life.” He grinned but the expression on her face stole it away.

  “Look at this.”

  He opened a piece of paper she had shoved at him—a telegram from Nate that read, “Trouble.”

  Brooks drove the rented buggy as fast as he dared. Keri clung to the seat with one hand and the side of the buggy with the other. His ma and pa somehow hung on in the back-seat as the matched pair of blacks galloped down the lane. As soon as the train had arrived, they’d headed to the livery, and now home loomed just around the next corner. The thin trail of smoke and dark clouds over the ranch didn’t bode well. He prayed no one was hurt.

  They pulled into the yard, and Brooks sawed back on the reins, slowing the snorting, lathered team to a walk. Nate and Grace jumped up from the porch rockers they’d been sitting on and hurried toward them. Relief washed over Brooks to see that the house and barn were intact. So what was burning? He stood and looked at the smoke in the distance. The windmill was gone!

  “What happened?” Brooks jumped down and helped Keri, while his pa assisted his mother.

  Nate stared at Keri with an odd look on his face and shook his head. A stark white bandage had been wrapped around his hand and lower arm. “It happened just before dawn. I’m guessing Dengler’s men snuck in while we was still asleep and set fire to the tower.”

  “They’d have had to use kerosene to burn it down that fast.” Brooks stood with his hands on his hips, staring at the ground. He’d just reconciled with his parents and with God, and things were going good. Why did this have to happen? And why now when he had his parents along? He wanted his father to see him as successful, not beaten down.

  Grace walked toward his mother, smiling. “Welcome to Raven Creek. I’m Grace Langston, Keri’s mother, and this is Nate Connelly. He works for Brooks.”

  His mother walked up to Grace and smiled. “How very nice to meet you. This is my husband, Riley. We’re Brooks’s parents.”

  Stunned was the only word Brooks could think of to explain the expressions on Grace’s and Nate’s faces. Grace recovered first and embraced his mother in a warm hug. “What a pleasure it is to meet you both. Why don’t you come inside, and I’ll fix some tea and coffee? We can let the men talk.”

  Brooks glanced at Keri. She seemed to be barely containing her fury. He walked over and squeezed her hand. “It will be all right. We can rebuild.”

  She glanced up, hurt and fire in her eyes. “And what’s to keep them from burning down the next one?”

  “We’ll hire night guards.”

  She leaned up close to his ear. “And did you forget that we have no money?”

  “What about contacting the marshal?” Riley asked.

  Nate shrugged. “There ain’t no proof of who did it. We had a witness …” He ducked his head and kicked a rock and sent it rolling.

  Apprehension crawled up Brooks’s neck like spiders on a wall. “What witness?”

  Nate glanced up and back down, an expression of anger and pain unlike any Brooks had witnessed affecting the man before smoldered in his eyes. “It was Jess. He heard them and rode out before I could get my pants—” he glanced at Keri, his ears reddening—“and … uh … my horse saddled. I found Jess down by the tower. They hung him.”

  Keri sucked in a sob and fell against Brooks. His heart twisted. “This isn’t right. Jess never hurt a soul. Did you see who did it?”

  Shaking his head, Nate pursed his lips. “Sorry boss. You know I don’t see well at night. I managed to get Jess cut down before the fire got too bad, but he was already gone.” Nate breathed in a deep breath. “We buried him over in the South pasture on that hill with the little redbud tree.”

  Brooks looked at his pa with tears blurring his eyes. “Jess never did harm to anyone. He didn’t deserve this.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Keri jerked away from him and ran toward the barn, but at the last minute, she swerved and jogged down the lane toward the tower.

  Riley stepped up to Brooks and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. Tell me what I can do to help.”

  He nodded his thanks. “Would yo
u mind cooling off the horses and seeing to them?”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll help,” Nate said, glancing up at Brooks’s head. “What happened to you?”

  “Had a run-in with a train.”

  “How bad is the train?” Nate obviously tried to lighten the mood as he headed toward the team.

  Riley paused halfway to the horses and turned back. “There’s something I need to tell you. I hope you’ll listen to me and not get angry.”

  Brooks felt his nostrils flare. Would his pa lecture him about something he’d done wrong? He forced that thought away and relaxed, then nodded.

  His pa walked toward him and stopped in front of him. “I always hoped you’d come back to us. But when you didn’t and knowing how you hated ranch life, I groomed Phillip to take over our place.”

  Anger flared at being left out, but Brooks doused it with a pail of common sense. It was his own fault. They hadn’t known if he was dead or alive. His pa had done the right thing.

  “I started a fund in the bank a few years after you left. Each year that we made a profit, I’d deposit one-third of the money there. It’s your money, son. The account is in your name.”

  Brooks blinked, unable to comprehend what his father had said. He wasn’t broke? Though he deserved nothing after he’d abandoned his family, his pa had the grace to save a portion of the ranch’s profit’s for him.

  “There’s enough to rebuild the windmill, if you want.” Riley grinned. “In fact, there’s probably enough for fifty of ’em, and maybe more.”

  Brooks yanked off his hat and ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve such a kindness.”

  His pa wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “You deserve it because you’re my son. It’s the same with God—not that I’m comparing myself to God. We don’t deserve His love and the sacrifice He made in giving His only Son to die on the cross for our sins. We can never do enough or be good enough to deserve His favor. We have it because we are His children.”