by Tricia Goyer
“We the jury find the accused, Mabelina Newman…not guilty of murder.”
Isaac raised his fists in triumph and faced the twelve men. “Thank you!” He rushed to Mabelina, whose head was buried in Jim’s chest. “Congratulations! This is wonderful.” As Isaac spoke, the train’s whistle echoed through the room.
Isaac’s heart dove into his stomach. Julia. I’ve got to stop her.
Jim’s head shot up, his eyes wide with realization of what that whistle meant. “You’ve got a train to catch, Parson Ike!”
“I know!” A rush of joyous excitement combined with anxiety moved his body toward the door.
“You get her, Parson,” Mabelina called. “Tell her you love ’er. And thanks for all you done for me.”
“You’re welcome!” he called as he sprinted outside where the train waited.
With two long steps he crossed the platform, and with one long jump he hurled himself onto the train and rushed through the narrow aisles toward the front.
The conductor stopped Isaac as he accidentally stepped in the first-class cabin. “Where ya headed so fast?”
Isaac halted. “I’m sorry.” He smiled apologetically to the only two passengers, an older, distinguished-looking man with a generous smile and a plump lady. “I didn’t mean to come in here.”
“You’ll have to go back to the lower-class cabins. Where’s your destination?”
“The next stop, sir. Big Sandy.” Isaac reached into his pocket and pulled out his payment, joy surging through him at the thought of finally being able to talk to Julia.
The youthful conductor grinned. “You must be off to fetch a lady.”
“I was thinking the same thing!” The plump woman’s round belly rolled as she chortled.
Isaac blinked. “How’d you know?”
“A smile like that can only mean a feller’s got a girl in his sights.”
The older man agreed.
Waving his hand in front of him, the conductor winked. “No charge for you.”
“Thank you. That’s so kind.” The excitement growing in his heart was laced with nervousness. “But I’m not sure she’ll accept me.”
“Well, if she doesn’t, come back and pay the two bits,” the conductor teased.
Isaac thanked him again and headed to the passenger cars.
“No, no!” The woman objected on a giggle. “Why don’t you stay in here with us? We were getting antsy anyway. Nice to have some company, right, my dear?”
“Yes, yes.” The older man nodded.
The train’s wheels rumbled on the rails, and it slowly began to move.
Isaac slid into a seat and gazed out the window. In moments he’d be at the Big Sandy depot, just in time to stop Julia from boarding. He closed his eyes. He could only hope she’d forgive him, accept him, and love him as he loved her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Miriam howled in pain, and Julia saw the fear in her eyes.
Julia sat up tall, her hands on the woman’s knees. “Tell me what to do,” she said firmly. “How do I turn the baby around?”
Miriam closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks as another round of stabbing pain surged through her. She gingerly rolled to her side, and Elizabeth massaged her back.
“This happened with Johannah,” Miriam said, her voice screeching with pain, but not panic. “We’re going to have to deliver the baby rear first.”
After what seemed like an hour of Miriam pushing, Elizabeth massaging, and Julia gently guiding the baby, Miriam told Julia to check again.
Julia dipped her head down. An elated sob rose to her throat. “It’s almost out! You did it, Miriam! You are an amazing woman.”
Miriam carefully twisted to her back. “I know!” she breathed. “I’m amazing!”
“Now push!”
A scream, which seemed to explode from the deep regions of Miriam’s very soul, echoed across the prairie as she squeezed her knees and hurled her body forward. The baby slid out into Julia’s waiting hands.
A sob exploded from Julia as she held the wet child in her hands. “Oh, Miriam. It’s a beautiful boy.” She wiped him off with Elizabeth’s apron and placed the bald, screeching child in the arms of his mother. “Thank You, Lord,” Julia sighed.
Elizabeth helped Miriam finish the delivery process and then cut the baby’s cord with a sharp knife. Then she cleaned both baby and mother as best she could with the water Christopher and Shelby had brought.
As Julia watched them, the trembling began. It started in her shoulders and moved down her arms. I can’t believe I delivered a baby. The reality of what had happened hit her. She looked around, at the back of the wagon, at the sky above, at the expanse of prairie, and her legs suddenly felt as if they were made out of water. She sank lower, sitting hard on her bottom on the wagon’s box.
“Yes, thank You.” Miriam closed her eyes, snuggling the baby to her chest. She kissed the top of his head. “Someone needs to go tell Jefferson that he has another son.”
“Yes, we will. Let us catch our breath.” Elizabeth touched Julia’s hand. Julia felt Elizabeth’s hand trembling, too. “Our Lord helped us, didn’t He?”
“He did.” Julia gazed at the sweet baby, now comforted by his mother’s touch. “He does.”
“Liberty.” Miriam’s face glowed. “We’ll call you Liberty for Independence Day. Lib for short.” She touched her newborn son’s cheek. “Christopher, come see your brother.”
Christopher stood up from where he sat beside the wagon, but he didn’t peer at the women. “Is it safe?”
“It’s safe,” Julia said.
He turned around and peeked at his little brother. “He’s sort of ugly.”
Elizabeth tugged on Christopher’s ear. “You don’t say that!”
Miriam glanced at Julia. “Thank you. I’m so glad you were here. And I’m so glad you’ve done this before.”
Julia grinned. “Just with dogs.”
Elizabeth and Miriam both gawked. “Dogs?” Elizabeth fanned her face.
Julia nodded apologetically. “Yes, our adopted pet at the orphanage had puppies. Sweet Sammy. The poor little pups had trouble coming out, so I had to help. I didn’t say what kind of little ones I helped deliver, remember.” She pinched her lips playfully. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
As the ladies giggled, the sound of a train whistle floated along the warm breeze.
Elizabeth gripped Julia’s arm. “The train.”
Julia shifted her head in the direction of the town about a mile off. Nestled into the horizon, beneath the sparkling blue sky, stood the windmill, the buildings lined up at attention along Main Street, the rickety old water tower. She smiled reflectively, remembering how Isaac had teased her that the water tower outshone the Statue of Liberty.
Her mind and heart had been set on boarding. She eyed the horse, and in her mind’s eye pictured herself mounting and racing to town.
Christopher can share the saddle and return the horse after he drops me off. Yes, that could work.
If she did that, she would make the steam engine, and within thirty minutes she’d be rumbling out of town, her Western adventure near an end. Julia untucked her skirt around her and prepared to stand. But then she hesitated…
She thought of New York. Mrs. Gaffin’s smiling face and her position at the school. How rewarding it would be to work there with a group of girls again. She thought of the people and the pulse of the city. It had its own schedule and pace. And for the first time, the idea of walking down the street and passing one hundred people she didn’t know made her sad. Her face felt flush, and it was more than just the warmth of the sun overhead.
Miriam held the baby’s head to her chest and leaned back against Elizabeth, closing her eyes.
Julia bit her lip as she thought about the rich, fulfilling life that would be waiting at the end of a train ride. But somehow the prospect of returning didn’t inspire her. The truth was, in the weeks since she’d received Mrs. Ga
ffin’s letter, she’d tried to conjure excitement but couldn’t. That world, New York, seemed far away, and her life there a distant memory. Like the memory of a dream.
A butterfly, yellow with charcoal lines, caught a gust of wind and landed on Miriam’s shoulder then skittered away. Julia gazed at the two women, Miriam reclining against her sister’s chest as they cherished baby Liberty. And as sure as butterflies fluttering on the prairie, Julia’s path was clear. She didn’t want to leave Montana. Shelby was right. Julia desired to dig her feet into the dry, dusty, prairie life and embrace whatever difficult, toilsome, and sometimes lonely life it offered. She wanted to remain with these people and teach their children. She wanted to serve the Lord here.
“Julia, are you all right?” It was Elizabeth’s voice. “Maybe you need a drink of water. Christopher, can you please—”
“I’m fine.” Julia held up her hand. “I just need a moment to think.”
She took a deep breath and thought about encouraging Shelby as a mentor through her young adulthood. She considered watching Bea grow into a beautiful girl.
As clear as anything, she knew staying here was the right answer. Maybe not in Lonesome Prairie, but close by. Perhaps she’d find employment as a schoolmarm in a neighboring town. And as the thought grew, excitement expanded with every flicker of her imagination.
Smiling at the two women who’d become like sisters to her, she touched their hands. “I’m not going. I want to be a butterfly.”
Elizabeth squealed with delight. Miriam reached over and brushed Julia’s hair from her forehead. “I’m so glad. I’ve been praying!”
Julia chuckled. “Well, your prayers must have worked. This morning my plans were completely different.”
Elizabeth scooted over and pulled Julia tightly into an embrace. Then, as she pulled back, Julia heard another voice.
“What?” It was Shelby. Sarah Mack followed behind, fanning herself and breathing hard. “You’re staying? Is that what I heard?” Shelby jumped onto the wagon and embraced Julia. “I knew you would.”
Shelby pulled back and gestured to the woman behind her. “I couldn’t find Margaret, but I found Mrs. Mack on her way to the party.” Julia accepted Shelby’s tight squeeze, and when she looked up, she saw a scowl on Sarah Mack’s face.
“I’m dashed, I say, simply dashed!” Her normally pasty white face was flushed red as a huckleberry pie. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to go back to your precious New York, so fancy and fine, as you say—though not nearly as refined as London—but I’ve held my tongue. Yes, I have. But now you—out of pure disregard for my feelings—have decided to stay.” She took off her bonnet and put it back on, her hands restless. “It’s not that I don’t like you, dearie, but for heaven’s sake, how will I ever win my Horace if you don’t take your leave?”
Julia hurried out of the wagon to her and spoke gently. “Sarah, I’m not staying to marry Horace. I have no plans to do so.”
Sarah staggered, wiped her brow, and then plopped down on the end of the wagon. “I–I’m sorry, Julia. I suppose I have always pictured that I would be the one to marry him.” She shook her head and rocked like a child. “There, I said it. I’ve waited, knowing that once you were gone, that sweet, kindhearted man would come to his senses and see that I’d make a much better wife to him than some skinny New Yorker. No offense, dearie.” She swung her head and pouted. “Maybe we’d already be married by now if you weren’t here.” She fanned herself. “It’s so dreadfully hot.” She let herself fall backwards onto the wagon bed next to Miriam.
Her eyes apparently landed on the newborn. “Oh yes, the reason Shelby came for me. Well, I see everything is fine. What a beautiful baby.” Her voice held a suppressed sob. “How happy you must be.”
Miriam patted the Englishwoman’s head. “Oh, Sarah.”
Not knowing what to say, Julia moved to the front of the wagon, returning with her frilly blue and tan parasol. Then she held it open over Sarah where she lay. “Here, Sarah. This is for you. I don’t need it anymore.”
“Thank you.” Sarah stilled for a moment, and then Julia watched as the fret seemed to start again in her hands—tightening into fists—and move up her pinched face to her knotted forehead. “Why must you ruin my last hope of happiness?” she finally burst out. Then Sarah thrust herself upright, and Julia yanked the parasol to keep it from poking the woman’s eye.
Sarah peered at her son, who was shyly inching backwards as if longing to disappear into the horizon. “And my poor William. You’re stealing his happiness, too. Horace has been like a father to him already. He even showed him how to pan for gold and—”
“Sarah!” Julia crouched in front of her and attempted to hold her gaze as Sarah continued her tirade. “Listen to me.”
Finally Sarah paused to wheeze in a breath.
Julia gazed directly into the woman’s pale blue eyes. “I don’t want to marry Horace,” she stated slowly, firmly. “I’ve told you that. I will not marry him. If I have to, I’ll work to repay him, but I will not marry Horace Whitbaum. Never.”
Sarah started to shake her head as if not believing, and Julia grasped the woman’s shaky hands.
“I promise you, Sarah Mack. I will lay my hand on a Bible if you want. I have no intentions toward that man.” She tilted her head in a sympathetic smile. “As kindhearted as he is.”
The tightly constricted lines on Sarah’s face loosened. “You promise?”
Julia sighed in relief. “I promise. But if you want Mr. Whitbaum to start courting you, there’s something you need to do.”
Sarah’s thick eyebrows knit together, questioning.
“Have you told Horace how you feel?”
Sarah shook her head.
“You need to be honest with him. Tell him you care for him.”
“But it’s not proper. How could I?”
A blaring boom reverberated from the direction of the ranch, and Christopher leaped to his feet. “The fireworks up at the lake! They’re getting ready.” Another boom sounded followed by a series of crackles. “We need to get back there, or we’re going to miss the picnic!”
“That’s right. The Fourth of July picnic. I almost forgot.” Shelby scampered around the wagon near Elizabeth. “Folks must be arriving soon.”
Elizabeth glanced at Miriam and Julia. “The young’uns are right.” She tilted her head to peek over Julia’s shoulder. “In fact, I see a troop of ladies heading out of Big Sandy now.”
Julia touched Miriam’s ankle. “Guess we didn’t expect your little Lib to be arriving so soon, did we? A Fourth of July baby.”
Miriam scooted up to a seated position, taking on her leadership position despite the baby rocking in her arms. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go on back home and get me and Liberty situated in my bed. Elizabeth, if you don’t mind missing a bit of the festivities, you, along with that husband of mine, can stay and take care of me.”
Elizabeth stood and climbed to the buckboard, grabbing the reins.
“And you, Julia.” Miriam threw her a smile. “You’ll take the children to the picnic—to give me time to rest.”
Julia smiled, grateful to be part of the scheme, the family. “Perfect. But if you don’t mind, I’m also doing one more thing.” She stood tall before Sarah, her hands bunched on her hips. “I’m taking you by the hand and putting you in front of Horace Whitbaum. I’m sure I’ll run into him—he always seems to show up wherever I go. Then it’s up to you to share your heart. Will you do that?”
Sarah shook her head, her hands covering her mouth and her eyes fearful. “No, I can’t possibly. He’s got his mind set on marrying you.”
Redheaded William slunk next to her on the wagon and held her hand. “You can do it, Mama. I think he loves you, too. He asks about you all the time. He’ll change his mind about Miss Cavanaugh, you’ll see.”
A blush deepened Sarah’s already pink face, and she nodded. “For you, William.” She wrapped her arm around her son. “I’ll te
ll him.” Then she shrugged. “I suppose it’s worth a go.”
Julia swiveled around, headed for the buckboard. She climbed on, and as she stood, she realized she could see the town. In the distance, her eyes snagged on the train parked at the depot that created a black line across the golden fields. She imagined the newcomers trickling off, entering Big Sandy. As she settled into her seat, she pictured the departing passengers climbing the big steps.
Thank You, Lord, that I’m not climbing those steps. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The steam engine slowed, and Isaac clasped the handrail on the train’s iron exterior. Before it completely stopped, he vaulted off the big step. I’ve got to find Julia.
A hot July breeze shifted his parson hat as he rushed the few steps to the railcar depot. Isaac’s hands went clammy in a cold sweat, and he wiped them on his trousers. His cheeks stretched into a smile as he peered inside, expecting to see Julia’s traveling clothes and sparkling brown eyes. She wasn’t in there.
“Young man?” The woman from the train tapped Isaac’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to be a bother, but my dear husband, well…” She let out a loud guffaw. “He has only so many hands, and I have such a large amount of luggage…” She turned and pointed back to the train.
Isaac barely heard the woman’s words. Instead, he gazed over the mile-long road leading to the town, remembering the last time Julia had missed the train. He pressed his lips together in a smile as he remembered how she’d walked toward the depot with quickened steps. But at this moment, no young woman traipsed the dusty walk. No wagon rumbled closer, either. His heart raced. Was she already aboard?
“Sir?” The woman tapped his shoulder again. “Would you be so kind as to help us with our luggage?”
