When You Are Near

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When You Are Near Page 18

by Tracie Peterson


  Everyone laughed, although Mother had tears in her eyes.

  Uncle Oliver’s eyes dampened as well. “Then, just as if we weren’t even there, that bear ambled off down the mountain, and we sat there thanking God for His rescue and the beautiful morning.”

  “I remember,” one of the cowboys said, “when we were out rounding up cows. Couple of ’em got stuck down in a gully. We were havin’ the devil of a time gettin’ ’em out of there, and I was cursin’ and stompin’ around. After quite a spell of finaglin’, Mr. Brookstone managed to make his way to them, and when he did . . . well, that was when we found that patch of coal. Turned out to be a thick vein, and it has served us well. Even then, Mr. Brookstone said, ‘God’s blessings are often at the end of places where we’re stuck and can’t see any good purpose in being.’ He offered up thanks for the cows havin’ got stuck down there and us findin’ ’em and the coal. Kind of made me look at life different.”

  Others shared similar stories about Lizzy’s father. They had learned thankfulness or gratitude through him for a wide variety of reasons. Lizzy feared the stories would only make her mother sad, but instead she was smiling and nodding, even offering her own comments. From time to time she wiped away tears, but Lizzy could see that the stories did her mother more good than harm.

  I wish they’d do the same for me. But rather than offer Lizzy joy, they only served to put pressure on a heart already close to exploding. More than once during the dinner, she felt herself choke up close to tears. Only her fears kept her from giving in.

  If I start crying, I might never stop.

  She remembered when one of the newborn foals had died. She’d only been a little girl and had cried her heart out. Wesley had been upset at her tears, because he didn’t know what to do. At least that was what she figured as the years passed. He had given her a bad time of it, telling her that life on a ranch was going to be full of death and she needed to be stronger or she’d spend all her time crying. But Father had put his arm around her and reminded her that death was just a season of life. He told her it was just fine to cry—that God collected our tears—that when our hearts were broken, He understood and would comfort us.

  But I don’t feel that comfort now.

  She looked across the table at Wesley and wondered if he remembered the way he’d treated her. No doubt he thought he was helping her be strong, or maybe he was just embarrassed by a little girl’s tears and didn’t know how to deal with her. A year later, Mary’s father died in the wild west show. Lizzy didn’t know Mary then, and while it was sad that her father’s friend had died, it wasn’t as heartbreaking to her as the foal’s death had been. But then her grandmother died, and her grandfather the year after that, and Lizzy had thought her broken heart might never mend. It hurt so much to lose someone she loved. Again the tears had flowed.

  When she learned Wes had married, Lizzy’s lessons in loss and pain were complete. Or so she’d thought. She had never hurt as much as she had then, and she spent every night sobbing quietly into her pillow. She couldn’t understand the situation at all. She was in love with Wes and knew he cared about her. Why hadn’t he fallen in love with her?

  It was after weeks of tears that she had decided they were getting her nowhere. Tears were for the weak. She vowed one night that no matter what, she would survive her pain by hardening her heart. At least where romance was concerned.

  After that, she forced back any rush of emotions. She was committed to dealing with life in such a manner that it couldn’t hurt her. The price? It also diminished the pleasure she took in life. Lizzy found that she never had as much joy in simple things. Happy times were pleasant enough, but the extreme feeling of delight was sadly absent.

  However, by handling her sorrow in that manner, Lizzy was better equipped to deal with her father’s passing. His death was a hard blow to bear, but she handled it with the same stalwart manner she’d dealt with other sorrows. It had solidified her resolve to have nothing to do with romantic love and hold all other feelings of love in a carefully controlled manner.

  If I don’t feel anything too much—either good or bad—then I’m better off. I can still enjoy the good times, but the bad ones can’t hurt me like they once did.

  Was that such a terrible way to deal with pain and loss?

  “I say, I very much enjoy this Thanksgiving dinner of yours. I’ve never eaten so much,” Jason said after the dinner concluded and they were all trying to find room for dessert.

  “Don’t you celebrate Thanksgiving in England, Jason?” Mary asked.

  “We have days of thanks that we celebrate from time to time, but nothing like this holiday of yours. After all, you are celebrating a group of people leaving England to start a new life in America. I doubt very much the English people would want to celebrate that.”

  “We’re celebrating God’s mercy and provision,” Wesley corrected. “It isn’t about those people leaving England. It’s about how God kept them alive and provided for their needs and how we should celebrate our thanks for how He’s done the same for us.”

  “Wesley’s right,” Mother added. “We’re very grateful for all the blessings we’ve had this year. It hasn’t come without loss and sorrowful moments, but we’re thankful for God’s provision and mercy. We are very blessed.”

  Murmurs of amen rounded the table, but Lizzy remained silent.

  After dinner, Wes and his crew declared themselves in charge of cleanup, and the others were dismissed to enjoy themselves by the living room fire.

  Lizzy collected some treats for her horses and slipped out of the house before anyone could notice and stop her. Snow was falling lightly in tiny flakes that were hardly noticeable. They fell straight down in a slow, lingering descent. Without wind to kick it all up, it was calming and restful.

  She made her way to the pen where Longfellow and Thoreau were huddled with some of the other performing horses, as well as some of the horses they’d retired from the show. She offered encouragement to each of the mounts but gave special attention to her own.

  “You are such good boys,” she told them after giving them some carrots. She stroked their faces and scratched Longfellow behind the ears like he liked. “I am thankful for you. You work well with me and keep me safe. You also don’t judge me or try to make me into someone I’m not. I’m definitely thankful for that.”

  “Aren’t you cold out here?”

  She grimaced. She was glad her back was to Jason Adler. She squared her shoulders and dropped her hold on the horses. “I wanted to give my boys some rewards.” She turned and faced him. “What brings you out?”

  “Why, you, of course. I didn’t want you to be alone out here in the weather.” He smiled in his pleasant way.

  Lizzy shook her head. “Jason, I grew up here—as an only child, I might add. I often go off by myself. I like it that way.”

  “I am sorry.” He looked rather worried. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

  Lizzy didn’t want to offend him; she just wanted him to leave. “It’s all right. I just enjoy some time alone.”

  “I can understand the need for reflection, but I hope you can learn to enjoy my company as well.”

  “I thought we decided you and I would be friends and nothing more.”

  “To start with.” He stepped closer. “Lizzy, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. That has never been my desire. I’ve enjoyed our friendship, but surely you know I would like to see it become something more. From our first meeting, I knew there was something special about you . . . that I wanted you to be a part of my life, my future.”

  “We will share a mutual future, since I agreed to participate in next year’s show. Isn’t that enough?”

  “I suppose for now it has to be,” he agreed. “I won’t lie to you. I want more. I’m so certain of what I feel that I would get down on one knee and propose right now if I thought I would get a positive reply.”

  Longfellow nudged her neck, and Lizzy dug out two more carrots and retur
ned her attention to the horses. “I really don’t want to discuss this. I’m not looking to be anything more to you than a friend.”

  He moved up behind her and stood so close that she was penned between him and the fence. If she turned, she’d be in his arms. His familiarity made her angry, and for a moment she considered giving him a good shove. But her sense of propriety prevailed.

  “Please step away. I don’t appreciate you forcing yourself on me.”

  “That wasn’t my intention.”

  He did as she asked, and when Lizzy turned, she could see he looked embarrassed. “Jason, we should maintain a good relationship because we will be working together. But otherwise I have much too much to concern my thoughts and heart. My mother is still mourning my father’s death, and Christmas will soon be upon us. I have a lot of work to do between now and the next show, so fairy-tale romances are not on my schedule.”

  “But I’d love to be your knight in shining armor. I’d love to fight off your dragons and carry you safely to my castle on my beautiful white stallion.” He grinned in a way that made him look like a lovesick schoolboy. “Although I’ll have to purchase one first. All my horses are blacks or bays.”

  His entire face was aglow with what Lizzy could only suppose was adoration. Sad that she couldn’t give him even a glimmer of hope that she might one day return his feelings, Lizzy shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jason. I’m all grown-up and no longer believe in fairy tales.”

  “And what of happily-ever-after?” he asked softly.

  She shook her head again. “Only after we leave this life. Only when we’re safely in heaven in the arms of Jesus. Not here. Not where we so easily lose the people we love.”

  His brow furrowed. She thought he might challenge her, but instead he gave her a slight bow and headed back to the house. She felt both relief and sadness. She was glad he’d left her alone but sorry that she’d obviously hurt him.

  Turning back to the horses, Lizzy contemplated what had just happened and wondered if staying another year with the show was wise. Ella was far more accomplished than Lizzy had dared to hope. She was younger too. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be able to handle anything Lizzy threw at her. Surely Ella could take on the starring role and do it as well, if not better, than Lizzy. Of course, she had promised Mary she would help her learn the truth about August. That was the biggest thing that had influenced Lizzy’s decision.

  But if I must worry about being pestered by Jason at every turn, I don’t think I can endure another year.

  “You got a couple of beauties there,” Phillip DeShazer said as he joined her at the fence. “Probably the best in the lot.”

  “I think so,” Lizzy said, giving him a smile. “By the way, I want to thank you for taking my list and that catalogue back to Barney in Miles City.”

  “It was no trouble. I like doing things for folks.”

  “How are you settling in?”

  “I like it here. I can see why Wes has stayed on year after year. I always liked movin’ around and meetin’ new people. I never stayed long enough to get too bored. But I never met a family like yours either. Your ma is a real nice woman. Reminds me of our ma.”

  “She is first-rate, if I do say so.”

  Phillip was nothing like his brother. Phillip had a boyish charm and sense of innocence about him. She knew from things Wes had said in the past that Phillip was bound to have seen plenty of trouble in his life, but he didn’t wear it in his expression or his attitude.

  “You said you liked moving around. Where all did your travels take you?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Just about everywhere. Been to California and up the coast. Been to Texas and saw that coast too.” He laughed. “I didn’t go east of the Mississippi, though. I didn’t figure they’d have as much use for my skills there as out here.”

  “You are amazing with the horses. I heard someone say that you’ve done exceptional work with that new string.”

  His expression grew thoughtful. “I’ve always felt a keen sense of understanding with horses. It doesn’t mean they haven’t tried to make me pay now and again. I’ve been thrown and kicked just like any other horse breaker. I guess I just feel I get along better with animals than humans.”

  Lizzy nodded. “I’m beginning to feel the same way. I don’t seem to relate well to anyone anymore.”

  “Wes thinks a lot of you.”

  She met Phillip’s dark brown eyes and shook her head. “Wesley thinks I’m a spoiled little girl sent to make his life a misery.” She’d had enough of this discussion. She gave the horses one last kiss and turned to go. “It was nice talking with you, Phillip. If you ever need anything, just come find me.”

  “She said what?” Wes asked his brother.

  Phillip grinned. “She said you think she’s a spoiled little girl sent to make your life a misery.”

  Wesley knew he’d made mistakes where Lizzy was concerned, but he certainly never meant for her to think those things. Nobody was less spoiled than Lizzy. She was generous to a fault and never had to have the best of anything. He’d seen her give up her place at the table when company was overflowing the house. Give up her room and bed too. He’d seen her work with others in the show and put them in positions where they could outshine her. No, she wasn’t spoiled. Nor did she make his life a misery.

  He was able to do that all on his own.

  “She’s not spoiled, and I don’t think that way about her.” Wesley bent to throw another long on the fire. Phillip had come to visit at his cabin for a bit before heading to the bunkhouse for the night. “You want some coffee?” Wes asked. “Cookie always leaves me half a pot in the afternoon. The stove’s cold, but I could put it over the fire.”

  “Nah, I ate too much and drank too much already. I’m full up.” Phillip pulled his chair closer and stretched out his legs. “It’s sure nice here. Almost like being a family again.”

  “It is. The Brookstones have always treated me like family.”

  “That Oliver Brookstone is a cutup. He was in the bunkhouse a couple of nights back and had us all in stitches with some of his stories from the old days.”

  Wesley remembered what he’d heard about Oliver still drinking. “Phillip, you haven’t been bringing whiskey back to the ranch, have you?”

  “No, sir. I do my drinking in town just like you told me to.”

  “I didn’t tell you to drink at all. I’d rather you didn’t. You know it’s not good for you. It serves no purpose other than to dull your senses.”

  Phillip sobered and nodded, but his gaze never left the flames. “That’s a purpose.”

  Wes knew there were years of pain inside his brother, but he wouldn’t talk about it, and any time Wes tried to get close enough to ferret out something of the truth, Phillip would push him away with a joke or a story about one of his humorous antics.

  It seemed no one wanted to talk about anything . . . to anyone.

  “Oliver, I think we need to have a talk now that you’re feeling better,” Rebecca Brookstone said, coming into her brother-in-law’s office.

  “You know I’ve always got time for you, Becca.” He rose and placed a chair by his desk. “What’s on your mind?”

  “You are.” She sat and gave him a smile. “I’ve been very worried about you since Mark’s death.”

  Oliver stiffened. “And I’ve worried about you.”

  “I know you have.” She waited until he reclaimed his seat to continue. “Oliver, I know that you suffer from losing your brother. Even though you say very little to me, it’s evident.”

  “I don’t want to burden you with my feelings, Becca. Your loss was much greater.”

  “I didn’t know loss could be measured. You loved Mark just as I did. He was your brother, and the two of you were thick as thieves. I sometimes envied that.” She put her hand atop Oliver’s. “My loss was great, but yours was too, and I know that perhaps it was made all the worse because we had to keep the show going. We weren’t allowed time to
mourn or even give Mark a proper funeral.”

  “It didn’t seem right.”

  “No,” Rebecca agreed. “It didn’t. But we did what Mark wanted, and that’s what matters. And, in thinking on that, I have to say something else.”

  Oliver shifted his weight, and his jaw tightened. He shook his head and looked away. “I think I know what you want to say. You’re upset with me about the drinking.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I’m not condemning you. You were hurting, and you sought comfort in the old ways.”

  “I drank so I wouldn’t have to feel the pain. But it was always there.”

  “Made worse by guilt, I’m sure.” Rebecca straightened, and Oliver looked at her and nodded.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you or the others. I just couldn’t stand to think about Mark being dead—about everything falling on my shoulders. The more I let myself dwell on it, the worse I felt. The worse I felt, the more alcohol appealed.”

  Rebecca nodded. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. You told me once that you have some ideas for the future, and I think we should talk about those now. It might help you continue on a sober path.”

  He drew a deep breath. “All right.” He pulled open a drawer. “Let me tell you what I’ve done . . . and what I still want to do.”

  seventeen

  I swear you’d think she’d never seen snow.” Mary let go of the window sheer and turned back to Lizzy.

  Lizzy had seen how animated Ella was when Phillip offered to teach her how to make a snowman. “I don’t think it’s the snow as much as the company.”

  Mary shrugged. “I suppose there’s someone for everyone. Maybe one day I’ll find mine.”

  “I don’t think there’s necessarily someone for everyone. God calls some people to be single. I’m beginning to think maybe that’s His purpose for me.”

 

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