Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana

by Tricia Goyer

  Julia scurried to the table and grabbed the parasol from the back of a chair. “That…and this. Oh—” She snatched a book from under the flat pillow. “Can’t forget my novel, although I finished it three days ago. I must say, the evenings were quite lonely out here, and when I’d finished the book, they felt even lonelier.”

  Isaac tilted his head, spying the title. “The Prairie Knight, eh?”

  “Yes.” Julia raised her chin pertly. “And it was quite realistic. The hero rescued the ‘prairie princess’ from no less than three Indian raids, two rushing rivers, and one rabid dog.” She laughed. “I’ve been out West just a few weeks, but I can’t believe anyone takes such stories seriously.”

  Isaac clamped his lips together, smothering a chuckle.

  “Well, if I’m honest,” she said with a wry smile, “I suppose I also believed such tales not that long ago. But tell me, don’t you ever have Indian raids?”

  Isaac led the way outside. “Not in these parts anymore.” He paused, letting her catch up to him. “I hope you don’t mind, but Jefferson is using the wagon. It’s not too long of a walk, and I figured you wouldn’t have very much luggage.”

  “That’s fine. I’d love to walk,” Julia said as the children ran up to them.

  “Uncle Ike!” Bea wrapped an arm around his leg then moved to cuddle Calamity.

  Shelby and Johannah strolled up arm-in-arm.

  “We want to go for a walk,” Shelby said. “All I keep hearing about are the buffalo tunnels. Can we go see them?”

  Julia shook her head. “If you two go, everyone will want to, and we can’t leave all the children in your care.”

  Shelby and Johannah twisted their heads to Isaac.

  “Please, Uncle Ike, why don’t we all go?” Johannah lowered her chin and blinked up at him. Isaac had given in to this look since the blond-haired girl was Bea’s age, and apparently Johannah knew her power.

  Isaac had planned on making a quick stop at his sisters’ ranch for supplies before rejoining Jim on the search for Mabelina. The two had traversed through Big Sandy and the surrounding townships for a week, with no sign of her. Yet the giant man possessed a giant faith, and he was determined to keep searching till they found her.

  When Isaac had arrived at Miriam and Elizabeth’s place, they’d immediately asked him to stay the night, hoping he’d watch the first Shakespearean production in Chouteau county—performed by his own nieces.

  How could Isaac refuse?

  His sisters hadn’t mentioned that Miss Cavanaugh would also be there, but Isaac figured she would. And the thought of seeing her had propelled a surge of joy through him.

  He eyed his nieces, gazing with all earnestness. “All right.” He gripped each one’s shoulders. “If Miss Cavanaugh doesn’t mind.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been hearing a lot about those buffalo tunnels myself.”

  “I’ll lead the way!” Christopher raced up and dashed ahead.

  “Wait! I know where it is. Why do you always have to go first?” Johannah hollered as she and Shelby ran after him.

  The others scampered along after them as Julia and Isaac sauntered behind. Julia breathed in the sweet scent of the prairie. The sun overhead warmed her shoulders, and the man walking next to her warmed her thoughts.

  He led her toward the coulee Miriam had taken her to once before.

  “In the spring these coulees fill with melting snow,” he said. Passing through, they reached the other side, which opened up to an ocean of tall, waving grass.

  Julia’s skirt brushed against the dust as more dirt accumulated on her boots. So much for the prim and proper city girl. She glanced up ahead at the herd of children racing through the grasses. “Do you see Bea?” She surveyed the field.

  “I just did. She’s so little the grass hides her.” He pointed toward the right. “There she is.”

  Julia could barely make out Bea’s head as it bobbed along a few yards behind the others.

  “This tall grass…” Isaac pushed a clump of it to the side. “They call it buffalo grass. Probably because the first settlers saw the buffalo lazing in it.”

  Julia grazed the grass with her hands, letting it tickle her palms. “Buffalo?” Her footsteps paused. “I saw some from my window on the train. Do many herds pass through here?”

  “Not too many. Like cattle, they don’t like drinking from the same waterholes as the sheep. But once in a while, a herd rumbles through. What you have to watch out for are the stragglers and wounded.”

  “So I’ve read. In my dime novels, it’s the weak animals that are the most frightening. Are they really dangerous?”

  “Yes, you wouldn’t want to face a live one. But don’t worry.” He puffed his chest out. “I’ve stared down more than one in my day.”

  Julia eyed him, unsure.

  He chuckled under his breath, telling Julia he was joking again.

  “If I ever have need of a mighty buffalo hunter,” she said, “I’ll most certainly call on you.”

  With an impish nod, Isaac winked and started walking again. They tramped over a grassy knoll, and reaching the other side, he pointed. “It’s right up there. This way.”

  She followed him until they came to a low-lying spot where a cluster of trees had sprung up, and behind them the land seemed to fold in on itself. Instead of standing straight up, the tall prairie grass arched, forming what looked like tunnels.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s a buffalo trail.” Isaac stomped the ground under the arch. “See, the herds have taken this path for so long, it’s packed solid. It’s almost like a wagon rut, only wider, and the grass only grows up the sides. Then it curves over, you see, and makes a tunnel.” Julia palmed the top of the curved tunnel. “It’s amazing.”

  “C’mon.” Isaac hurried down the tunnel’s filtered light, her valise swinging in his hand, and Julia followed.

  The scent of the grass was strong, and every so often she noticed brown patches of hair poking out, evidence of the beasts. She giggled as she raced after Isaac and wondered when she’d ever had such a happy day.

  Coming out the other side, she stood beside Isaac, who reached out his hands toward the limpid depths of a large pond. “And now, you finally get to see our lake.”

  Julia thought he was teasing again. “This is it?” she questioned. “I saw lakes on the train ride out here—the Great Lakes, all those quaint Minnesota ones. Is this really considered a lake?”

  Isaac frowned. His forehead scrunched. “It’s called Lonesome Lake.”

  Julia covered her lips with her hand. He wasn’t fooling. This really was the lake. “I’m sorry. I guess I just expected…something bigger.”

  “You don’t like our lake?” His voice sounded disappointed. “I thought you’d like it.”

  Julia touched his arm, concerned. “Of course I do. It’s lovely.”

  Isaac laughed as he patted her hand. “I suppose it does look pretty meager compared to what you’ve seen.” He shifted his stance to face her and then threw her another wink.

  “Oh! You weren’t upset.” She stomped her foot. “You were teasing me again.”

  “Forgive me.” His voice lowered. “It’s so fun.” His eyes shone with a smile and then softened to convey compassion. “I’ll bet it’s not only our lakes that are different from the world you’re used to.”

  A breeze picked up off the water, loosening a strand of Julia’s hair. She tucked it behind her ear. “It’s very different—in so many ways—and the past couple of weeks haven’t been easy, but…” She plucked a piece of grass from his sleeve. “I’m glad I came—and even that I’ve had to stay awhile.” Her gaze fell to her hands. “I’ve been able to learn much more about God.” She angled her head up and peered into his eyes. “Thanks to you.”

  Isaac’s gaze joined hers. Julia sensed tenderness as well as esteem in his eyes, and she was loath to let the moment pass.

  Then abruptly, Isaac’s eyes shifted to the side, and the tender loo
k was replaced by a cool, awkward glance.

  Julia reproved herself for reading something into his actions that wasn’t there. He’s only trying to comfort me, behaving like a minister, she thought. I’ve got to stop letting myself think there’s anything more.

  As if to affirm her thoughts, Isaac began walking toward his sisters’ ranch atop a nearby hill. “We’d better get back,” he said pleasantly, swinging the valise again. The intimacy of the previous hour was gone.

  Julia gathered up the children, and they plodded home.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After their quick trip back to Lonesome Prairie for supplies, Isaac and Jim had chosen to travel to Great Falls in search of Mabelina. On the way Isaac couldn’t help pondering the sincere and profound questions Julia had asked as the two sat on the porch after the others retired for the night—at a strangely early hour.

  Isaac knew his family’s feigned drowsiness was part of Miriam and Elizabeth’s scheme to give him and Julia a chance to get to know each other. Isaac rolled his eyes at his sisters’ plotting, even though they weren’t there to receive the gesture.

  The lantern light had accentuated Julia’s smooth cheeks and sparkling eyes. But, of course, he’d overlooked these details. The only reason he’d allowed himself to linger with her was because he’d done so in the capacity of a parson. One question after another seemed to flow from the young woman’s heart. Really, he told himself, if a soul has such a hunger to learn about the truths of the Bible, how could I, a minister, refuse?

  He didn’t deny he enjoyed the moments with her, but he always relished digging into passages, uncovering the depth of meaning layered in the Word.

  But now he had a more pressing issue before him—finding Mabelina. Great Falls was his first stop mostly because it was the biggest town in the area—brimming with stores, Chinese laundries, and new family homes—and would be the perfect place for Mabelina to hide. Also, he knew that Milo’s daughters were nearby at boarding school just south of Great Falls. Even though he hadn’t told Aponi his plan, he knew she’d be overjoyed to know he’d checked in on her girls.

  “You ask around the businesses on Main Street,” Isaac told Jim.

  “And you?” Jim asked, although Isaac could tell from his understanding gaze that he already guessed where the parson would be.

  “I’m going to check on some of the little lambs from my flock. Just because they’re far from the fold doesn’t mean they don’t need tending toward.”

  Jim nodded and turned his horse to town. Isaac kicked his heels against Virginia, motioning for her to move down one of the dusty roads to the small church and school south of Great Falls.

  As he rode up to the school, he noticed a group of children working in the garden. They lifted their faces to him and smiled. Isaac waved. He didn’t spot any of Milo and Aponi’s daughters.

  He dismounted from Virginia and tied her to the hitching post out front—more to keep the children from running away with her than to prevent his horse from wandering off. A short nun in a spotless habit approached, striding toward him. Isaac didn’t remember seeing this nun before, but he knew that nuns often moved in and out of the boarding schools, following the call of the greatest need.

  “Hello there.” The sister greeted him with a quick smile. “I can see from your hat you’re a parson. What can I do for you today?”

  Isaac removed his hat and brushed back his hair with his fingers.

  “I was looking for the daughters of a dear friend. They are Indian girls. Well, half-Indian. Their last name is Godfrey.”

  The nun mouthed the name and then the color drained from her face. “Oh yes, the Godfrey girls. They are busy at the moment. Perhaps you can come back in an hour or so? They can be ready for a visitor then.” The woman turned and hurried back toward the residential quarters.

  Isaac didn’t like the look on the woman’s face or appreciate her tone. She’d spoken to him as if he were one of her disobedient students and had dismissed him without waiting for his response. Isaac replaced his hat and then followed the woman. He quickened his steps to catch up, but she didn’t know he was behind her until she stepped through the door to the building and he caught the door, holding it open for her.

  “Actually, I hope to be heading out in an hour. It would be best for me to see them now.” Through the doorway to the kitchen, he spotted a black-haired girl carrying a big pot to the stove. He recognized her right away. Mary.

  Isaac hurried forward, not caring what the nun thought. He entered the kitchen and spotted all six girls.

  Mary lifted her head after setting the pot down, and her jaw dropped open as she spotted him. “Parson Ike?”

  At hearing his name, the other girls spun around toward the door. Even little Genevieve dropped the brush she’d been using to scrub the floor. “Parson!” She rose from where she’d been kneeling and ran to him, arms outstretched.

  “Parson!” The other girls joined her, circling him. He placed a soft kiss on each forehead. “Girls, it’s so good to see you.” He forced a smile, attempting to hide his anger at seeing them doing hard labor in the heat of the day while the other children enjoyed fresh air.

  “Girls, you are working so hard. Is today your day in the kitchen?” he asked, giving the nuns the benefit of the doubt.

  “Oh no, Parson, we work in here every day.” Little Genevieve stared up at him with large brown eyes.

  “Yes, we must work for our tuition, isn’t that right, Sister?” Alice eyed the nun.

  “Well, unfortunately, yes, that is the truth. Perhaps the parson and I can talk about this elsewhere?” She clapped her hands together. “And I have an idea. After we talk, I’ll get some of the other girls to take your places—just for this afternoon. It would be lovely for you to visit with the parson, don’t you think?”

  Isaac stepped back from the girls’ embraces. His heart ached as if it had been set upon a chopping block and split for kindling. “I’ll be right back, girls. Do as the good sister has said.”

  The girls nodded and obeyed, setting to work with determination. They reminded him so much of Aponi. She always thought of others, never complaining of her own plight. Even at Milo’s funeral she’d greeted everyone, wishing them safe travels home, extending her appreciation for making the trip.

  The girls reminded him of Milo, too. Even though they greatly resembled their mother, like their father, their eyes seemed to gaze beyond the dark tasks of the present toward a brighter future.

  The nun scurried back out the door, and Isaac followed her. He held his tongue, waiting for the explanation, hoping it was a good one.

  “The Godfrey girls, they are some of the best in our class. They are far more educated than most of the other Indians. They—” Isaac held up a hand, stopping her words. “They don’t need to be compared to the other Indians. They are children. They should be schooled like all the other children. With no distinction.”

  “Yes, of course,” the woman answered, even though Isaac could see she didn’t agree.

  “Is that why they are in the hot kitchen, cooking and cleaning? Because they’re Indians, half-breeds?”

  “No, of course not. All the children, no matter their race and heritage, have chores to perform here. We believe children must gain a good work ethic in addition to book learning. The Godfrey girls work extra in the kitchen in order to pay for their tuition. It was an agreement I made with their brother, Mr. Boyle. He said he had only enough money for a quarter of their tuition. We agreed the girls could work off the rest. They have shown themselves to be excellent workers—and I think we’re being more than fair, given the circumstances.”

  The heat of anger charged across Isaac’s chest. Yet his anger was no longer directed at the nun or the school, but at Warren Boyle. Isaac knew Milo would’ve put away enough money for their unforeseen future. Warren had enough money to properly pay for the girls’ schooling—no doubt. Unless…

  Unless there was trouble with Milo’s estate. Troubles
no one knew about. The anger cooled.

  “So how much will it be?”

  “Excuse me?” The woman peered up at him from under her habit.

  “The cost—for their schooling. If I were to pay for the next couple of months, how much would it be?” He pulled out his money pouch from under his shirt.

  The nun mentioned a price.

  “Is that for all the girls?”

  The nun nodded.

  “And does that mean they will be treated like the other children—not have to work in the kitchen?”

  “They’ll still have to work, but no, not in the kitchen.”

  Isaac pulled the money out—most of what he had left—and placed it in the woman’s hands. “Thank you for housing and schooling them, Sister. I know this will ensure you care for them just as I would—or better yet, as their mother would.” He replaced his money pouch. Thank You, Lord, for providing for these girls. I know You will provide for my additional needs.

  He turned back to the building, ready to spend time with the girls. He’d have a talk with Warren when he returned, but for now he was grateful the girls would be taken care of.

  “I think I’ll go see them now. Maybe we’ll take a walk.” He strode toward the building.

  The nun hurried beside him. “Yes, Parson, that is fine, but I only have one question.”

  Isaac paused and forced a smile, reminding himself it wasn’t this nun’s fault. In fact, if anything, he should thank her for finding a way to allow the girls to stay here. “Yes, Sister, what is the question?”

  “This money cares for their schooling and boarding for a few months…but who will take care of the bill after that?”

  Isaac gazed at the woman as they walked. “Don’t worry, Sister. By that time the girls will be returning home.” Isaac spoke with more confidence than he felt. “We will have a school in Lonesome Prairie they can attend.”