Threads of Change

by Jodi Barrows

  Where is Thomas? she wondered.

  She had to find him right away.

  Why did I have to oversleep, today of all days with Thomas waiting for a sign of my commitment?

  Liz spun around and ran to her bedroom. She needed to find Thomas before it was too late.

  She nearly knocked Emma down in her wake, and she heard Emma ask Megan, “What did she say? And where’s the fire?”

  “Watch the bacon and I will go see what all this is about.”

  Megan followed her into their room just as Liz frantically buttoned the bodice of her green calico dress. Liz tugged a brush through her hair in hurried strokes.

  “How did I let things get like this?” she asked Megan. “What is wrong with me?”

  Liz willed the comb through her sleep-tousled hair as tears stung her eyes.

  “Liz, what is it?” Megan asked her.

  “Megan, have you seen Thomas this morning?” she asked urgently.

  “No. Why, what happened?” Megan asked, drying her hands on her apron and stepping aside to get out of Liz’s way as she approached the doorway at a full run.

  “If you see him, hold him until I return. I need to find him. I’ll explain later. Oh! And don’t bring in the quilt that’s on the chair outside the back door.”

  Liz passed the corner of the mercantile, walking hurriedly along the dirt road. She couldn’t take the time to use the wooden walkway in front of the store. She peered into both directions but saw nothing. She decided to ask at the pastor’s house to see if they had seen Thomas this morning and, lifting the edge of her skirt slightly off the ground, she moved quickly. Calming herself some and with the scant tear wiped away, she knocked on the door.

  “Good morning, Anna,” Liz quickly said to the pastor’s wife, “I’m sorry to bother you so early, but have you seen Thomas this morning?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Anna replied sweetly. Liz looked up at the intimidating sky growing darker, and another tear escaped her eye. “Do you need help with something? Parker just went down to Smithy’s to get his horse. He’s leaving town to meet up with the Rangers. It sure looks like rain is in store for us today.”

  “Thank you,” she called out as she waved goodbye and rushed over to the livery where she hoped to find all the men, including Thomas. Surely they would still be there. She had all but forgotten about the missing county records from the neighboring Birdville community.

  The wind picked up as she silently wished she had grabbed her shawl on the way out.

  As she approached, she saw many men, but not the one for whom she’d come looking. She reached the corrals and Samuel saw her first. He sent a smile her way just as she looked into his eyes.

  “What brings you out so early this stormy morning?” he asked as he pulled the strap under the belly of his black mare. Samuel was dressed in his long riding coat, and he paused to study her and gave his cowboy hat a firm tug against the wind.

  Pastor Parker had finished saddling his horse when he looked up and saw Liz. He tucked his Bible into his saddlebag and came to the fence where she stood. “Liz, do you need some help?” he asked as he buttoned his rain slicker that flapped in the wind.

  Liz looked past him at the men, hoping one more would appear. The gust rearranged her hair and the comb fell out and into the corrals. A pony, skittish with the storm, pranced on it and cracked the comb in one step.

  “I was hoping to find Thomas with you,” Liz stated, holding her hair with one hand, trying to keep it from her face as she spoke.

  “Thomas told me last night at the church social that he may leave early this morning and go north to look at some ranch land,” the pastor told her. “I assumed he had discussed his plans with you.”

  Samuel had finished securing his bedroll and canteen to his saddle. As he came closer, he picked up the broken comb and handed it to Liz. “Sorry,” he said, and he shrugged as he handed her the broken comb.

  “Me, too,” she sighed.

  “Smithy said Thomas was here at sun-up to get his pony saddled up and wasn’t much on conversation, but he did say that we were not to wait on him to come back.”

  Samuel’s father now joined the group and added his two cents’ worth. “I think he planned on being gone for a while. He had a good-sized pack with him.”

  Liz nodded her head in understanding. “Thank you. How long will you all be gone?”

  Samuel spoke up. “We are meeting up with the Rangers south of here. Not sure if there will be trouble bringing the records back, but Tex thought it would be good to have backup and some town authorities with us, just in case. Parker, being a preacher, should help keep everyone calm.”

  The pastor chuckled. “We live in hope.”

  Grandpa Lucas appeared at the livery with Luke mounted and ready to ride. He seemed quite surprised to see his oldest granddaughter standing at the stables.

  “Liz,” he called out, “you better get out of the weather. We have to ride out this storm if we are going to leave on time. Thomas will be back soon.”

  Her son gave her a smile and prodded his horse in step with the others.

  Liz wasn’t sure how her grandfather could be so confident about Thomas’s return. Had he spoken to him?

  The wet wind swirled about her, enforcing her state of mind. She felt so confused and out of control about everything. With the change in living conditions, she wasn’t even aware of what Luke was up to or had been doing. He had grown up so much over the time they’d spent traveling west. Thomas had taken Luke completely under his wing in the last few weeks. Luke loved the freedom of riding with the Rangers to Fort Worth and bunking with the men in the barracks of the fort.

  The group of Fort Worth men mounted their horses and rode out of the stables. They all touched or tipped their hats as they passed Liz standing in the street. The rain had started and was cold as it hit her face. Instead of running home, she paused and gazed at the mercantile for a moment. It boasted new window panes and two new red doors made to order. It looked just as she had always imagined. Thomas had worked hard to grant her every wish, and now she had a storefront to be proud of.

  Liz went up the steps to the mercantile and pulled open the door. Her wet hair puddled on the shoulders of her damp dress as she looked after the group of riders again, silently hoping to see one more added to the company. She only saw Pastor Parker give Anna a goodbye kiss in front of the church, and she heard him pray over the band of men for protection. His hearty “Amen!” traveled on the wind as she stepped inside the building. A gust of wind blew the door ajar behind her and she turned to bolt it.

  His room, she thought. I haven’t checked his room.

  Liz climbed the stairs to the living quarters above the mercantile, not yet ready to accept the fact that he had gone.

  “Thomas, are you here?” she inquired, before she entered.

  Only the whistle of the wind disturbing a window answered her. The loft looked much as she had left it days ago. Some of his clothes had been removed from the pegs.

  He packed them, she thought. He really is gone?

  His worn family Bible lay open to Romans 8:28, and she slumped into the chair to read it.

  “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose,” she read aloud.

  A sterling silver wedding band had been placed on the open page. Liz could imagine Thomas seeking Scripture to comfort and guide him. She knew that she had hurt him and she ached with sadness at the thought. Thomas had already purchased a wedding ring by the time she had rejected him.

  Liz shook her head and clamped her eyes shut to hold back the tears. Thomas had such a quiet determination, so different than Caleb.

  Why does he have to push me so?

  She dropped her head into her hands as she leaned back against the chair and began to sob.

  What have I done?

  She’d played a sad, self-indulgent game and lost. She didn’t mean to hurt Thomas or f
orce him to leave. She had not meant to sleep so late and lose her future in this careless way. She didn’t like how things had turned out. She didn’t like playing the fool, being wrong, or losing control of her life.

  “How can this be fixed?” she cried as the storm intensified outside the window.

  The rain came down in steady streams until the street out front began to look like a muddy river.

  Ting-ting came the sound of the wind as it whipped the rain into little metal needles that crashed against the glass. Thunder boomed and rattled the newly installed windows in the red door of the mercantile.

  Liz wrapped herself in the log cabin quilt made by Thomas’s mother. She could smell Thomas on it. She looked to the open Bible from which all of her strength, faith, and courage had always come. She whispered a prayer for her family and all of the men on horseback, asking for wisdom, direction, and a second chance, from the God of second chances. Liz wiped her eyes as the passage of Scripture she’d read echoed through her mind and a sudden prompting spoke to her heart.

  My daughter, you don’t have control over your life. I do, and all things do work together in My plan and My timing.

  Liz looked around but knew that she would find no one. She recognized the familiar voice; she’d heard it before and it always comforted her and gave her strength. She smoothed out the quilt and lifted herself up, heading out to face the storm with restored confidence.

  Thomas inspected his clothing and the bedroll that hung drying in the tree. It had rained for three long days and nights. He spent the next two days rotating his belongings on the branches of a big oak tree. His things weren’t dirty, just soaked. He even had to take valuable time off so his horse could dry out as well. The rainy weather had been good for him though; it afforded him thinking time about his future and what he wanted to do at this point.

  The land was rich and beautiful with small hills, scattered trees, and good open pastures for grazing livestock. This was just what he hoped to find. Thomas looked down upon the perfect spot to build a big white ranch house with white corrals full of good horses, for breeding or to sell. Cattle would roam the outstretched hills around the ranch.

  He envisioned the front of the house, and suddenly there was Liz standing on the porch. He shook his head to make the picture fade, but she was tenacious, that Liz. Always there, looking just like the first time he saw her as a young woman. She always stood like that … on the outskirts of his life, never really allowing him to step in.

  Thomas poured the last of the coffee from the enamel coffee pot simmering on his campfire. He hoped the strong, hot drink might clear his head. To extinguish his small fire, he kicked dirt over the red hot coals as he came to the final decision that this was the piece of land for him. Despite all that seemed to have gone wrong, this decision just felt right. He would purchase the land around him; Denton County land, close to the Trinity River where it drained into the Elm Fork.

  Thomas saddled his horse and packed up his dry things, ready to move on, rather excited to file on the perfect piece of land. He would keep his plan moving forward, with or without Elizabeth Bromont.

  This place would be close enough to monitor his responsibilities in town. He would most likely place his good friend Chet as foreman on the ranch, and designate Blue to oversee the freight line. Thomas placed his boot in the stirrup and mounted up. He turned his horse to a small settlement called Medlin, Texas.

  As he rode into the community of settlers, just where Tex told him it would be, he found a small supply store with grain stacked along a table made from barrels. It really wasn’t a building, just a roof without walls and a dirt floor. A rooster strutted between the barrels, making the hens cluck and move along in the powdery dust of the floor. Thomas reined in his horse and let them hang loose as he dismounted.

  A big man working over a blacksmith’s iron next to the supply store looked up. Wiping the sweat from his brow with a red bandana, he studied Thomas and stood to greet him.

  Thomas took a few steps toward the big man with soot on his face. “I’m Thomas Bratcher,” he stated, nodding his head. “I’m looking for Big Moe. I was told I could find him here.”

  “Who told you that Big Moe would be here?” the man replied in a deep voice as he wiped his hands on his heavy apron.

  Thomas replied, “My friend Tex, a Ranger. He said to talk to Moe about some land I want to buy.”

  Thomas waited and watched until the blacksmith finally smiled, and all six and a half feet of the man came toward him.

  “I’m Big Moe, and any friend of Tex’s is a friend of mine.”

  The now-friendly giant shook Thomas’s hand vigorously as he asked, “Which piece of heaven do you have your eye on?” Big Moe blocked the sunlight from view when he stood and the earth shook a little as he stepped.

  His voice was deep and thunderous, and he even made the Ranger Jackson seem small by comparison. Thomas was glad he knew Tex and was able to use him as a reference.

  Moe showed him around the corner to a shady spot with a table, and he motioned for him to take a seat. Moe continued standing and called out toward an open cabin door where it sat nestled in the grove of trees. A young girl, maybe ten years old, pretty and petite, came to the opening.

  “Yes, Papa?”

  “Bring a plate for our friend, and a drink from the well, too.”

  Moe sat on a tree stump on the other side of the table while Thomas watched the little girl go and do as her papa asked. She brought a chunk of beef and two slices of dark bread, heavy with fresh churned butter. Thomas didn’t realize how hungry he was until he smelled the meal placed before him.

  Moe smiled at her and asked, “Didn’t I smell a peach pie cooking earlier?”

  “Papa, it’s almost ready. The crust just needs to brown a little more.”

  Thomas saw her smile at her papa as she served the food prepared with her small hands. Her slender body did a small curtsey and she headed back to the opening from which she’d first appeared.

  “She’s been cookin’ for a few years now, ever since her ma passed. As you can see, she has a big job cookin’ for me.” Moe patted his stomach and gave a nod to Thomas.

  Thomas had not had a meal since the Sunday welcoming party, and he was famished. He had left before dawn, just as a storm was moving in. Jerky was all he had in his saddlebag, plus some fruit he found along the way. Game was hard to find in the rain.

  He finished off the last bit of bread and licked some of the butter off his hand. Moe continued talking about the small settlement he called home; Medlin had been named after Louis and Charles Medlin. About twenty families had settled there eight years back. Moe let Thomas eat without asking any questions. He obviously respected a man’s meal time.

  Thomas had barely swallowed his last bite when the blonde girl appeared with a hot peach pie and a crock of milk. Thomas smiled in amazement as she cut one third of the pie and placed it on his plate. She smiled shyly at him and giggled as she moved the rest of the pie in front of her papa.

  Thomas placed his hands on his tight stomach and laughed as she turned and skipped toward a puppy that had wandered over in hopes of a tasty treat. She sat in the grass and played with the puppy, tossing a rag ball.

  “Your daughter is delightful and a really good cook for someone so young,” Thomas said over a forkful of the sweet pie.

  Moe looked over to the child and nodded his head in agreement. “Bethany is good in many ways and I will hate the day I have to part with my only daughter. He will have to be a good man or he will have to deal with me and her five brothers.”

  Thomas chuckled at the image of a young suitor and the six giant men who would have to approve of the relationship with their much-loved Bethany.

  “She reminds me of her mother, sweet as a honeycomb, floats around happy as a butterfly. It was a sad day when she passed. Do you have a missus and children?”

  Thomas’s thoughts went to Liz. “No, not married.” He paused.

  “But y
ou have a sweetheart,” Moe interrupted. “Will she not come west with ya? Are ya gonna send for her soon as you get the land?”

  Thomas wasn’t sure where he stood with Liz at the moment. He had waited all night for the quilt to appear on the back porch. When it didn’t, he knew he had to leave.

  “Yes, I do have a sweetheart.” Thomas smiled, thinking of Liz and how excited she was when he surprised her with the quilt. “Our relationship has taken a bump in the road, you might say.” Thomas looked at Moe and even though they had just met, he felt comfortable enough to share his dilemma. “I’m not sure she wants to continue with our plans to marry. She is in Fort Worth, widowed with a half-grown son and very independent.”

  Moe sat quietly with his arms folded across his chest listening to Thomas. “Is she a good woman?” Moe asked.

  “Yes,” Thomas replied.

  “Are you over being mad at her?” he asked intuitively.

  Thomas smiled sheepishly as he looked at this man who already seemed to know him better than most. “How did you know?”

  Moe sat up and leaned across the table, which groaned under his pressure. “You said she was independent. Means stubborn. You two locked horns means you left mad.”

  Thomas listened as Moe summed it up so simply.

  “Let me tell you how to keep your woman happy,” he continued seriously. “I was a big clumsy man, no looks, no money. But my Mary was a looker and had many to pick from. I just loved her and made her believe in herself, said, ‘yes ma’am’ to most everything. The sweet woman died birthin’ my last son. If you love her, let her know, and give her a second chance. I’m sure she’s worried sick over you bein’ gone and I’d bet you didn’t even tell her you were leavin’.”

  “I’ll give it some thought.”

  “Don’t wait too long. Life has a way of givin’ and takin’ and it don’t ask our opinion on the matter.” Moe looked Thomas in the eye as he spoke the wise words.