by Al Lacy
Donna Talbert gripped her mother’s hand. “Oh, we’re almost to Deena. My heart feels like it’s going to flutter right through the wall of my chest.”
Ken smiled at her. “Just hang on, sweet stuff. You’re about to hold that precious sister of yours in your arms.”
Drawing to a halt at the front porch, Ken stepped out, and helped Molly and Donna from the buggy. They walked up the porch steps together, noticing that the front door was standing open behind the screen door.
Ken knocked on the door, and instantly, they heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming that way. Seconds later, a big, muscular man appeared. He looked through the screen at Donna and his face went purple with rage. He flung the screen door open. “Oh, so you’ve come crawling back, eh? And who are these people?”
Donna knew something indeed was wrong. She looked at her parents to see their reaction to the big man’s nasty attitude. They seemed as shocked as she was. “I’m not Deena, Mr. Dexter. I’m her twin, Donna. Remember? Wh-where is my s-sister?”
Ralph looked at her in mute shock.
Aware of Donna’s distress, Ken’s fatherly protectiveness took over.
He stepped closer, pushing Donna behind him. “Mr. Dexter, my wife and I have adopted Donna. We brought her here to see her twin sister. Where is sh—”
“Deena!” came a shrill female voice as Norma drew up, looking past Ken at the girl.
Donna moved up beside Ken. “I’m not Deena, Mrs. Dexter. I’m her twin sister, Donna. You saw me at the depot the day you chose Deena.”
A stunned Norma could only stand there, eyes bulging, mouth open.
Ken squared his shoulders. “Our name is Talbert. My name is Ken, and my wife’s name is Molly. We chose Donna at the depot in Wild Horse, Colorado, and we’ve adopted her. We have a ranch near there. Donna has missed her twin something awful, and she has sensed that Deena is in some kind of trouble. We brought Donna here so she could see her. Do I understand by your words, Mr. Dexter, that Deena has left you?”
Ralph found his voice. “Uh … well, Deena had been missing her twin. She was very unhappy in our home. It seems the change was too much for her, coming from life in the big city to this farm. It became so difficult for her that she ran away. The town marshal and his deputies formed search teams from among the townsmen and tried to find her, but were unsuccessful. She is no doubt gone for good and won’t be back.”
Donna’s heart sank, and her shoulders drooped.
Molly put an arm around her, noting the profound look of sadness on the face of Ralph Dexter’s wife. A closer look showed her what appeared to be faded purple bruises on the woman’s face. Fearful of what Deena may have been forced to endure and not wanting Donna to become aware of this, Molly placed a hand on her husband’s arm. “Ken, I think it’s time to go. Since these people have no idea where Deena is, nothing more can be done here.”
Ken nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Dexter, may I leave you our address, so if Deena should surprise you and return, she could write to Donna?”
Ralph set his jaw. “You can leave it, but Deena isn’t coming back.”
As the Talberts were driving back toward Salina, Donna sobbed as if her heart would break in pieces. “I’ll never see Deena again! Oh, what has happened to her? Whatever it is, it’s got to be dreadful. I know it! I know it!”
Molly held her in her arms. “I’m so sorry we weren’t able to find Deena, honey, but maybe what you’re feeling isn’t as bad as it seems.”
“It’s bad, Mama! Deena needs me, and I can’t get to her! Oh, this is awful!” The sobs grew heavier. “I should have come sooner, while she was still here! She needed me! Oh-h-h! I’ll never see her again!”
Ken put the reins in his left hand and took hold of Donna’s hand with his right. “Sweetheart, we came as soon as we could. I know it looks hopeless now, but we have a big, powerful God, and there are no impossibilities with Him.”
“That’s right, Donna,” said Molly. “God knows where Deena is. We’ll pray that He will bring you and Deena together in His own way and His own time.”
Donna ran her gaze between her parents. “I’ll pray that way every day of my life until the Lord brings Deena back to me.”
At the Marvin Dalby home east of Los Angeles, Teddy Hansen, Jerry Varnell, and Clint Albright were superbly happy with their foster parents. Marvin and Doris had given each of them his own room in the spacious house, and the boys loved their school.
The three orphan boys had become as close as any brothers could be. They loved their parents and their new life and found each day filled with joy.
One common thread held the boys together in a special way—their deep desire to someday found and direct an orphanage themselves. They talked about their dream, formulating ideas, and sometimes after discussion, discarding some of them. They realized it would be years before they could actually realize the big dream, but they knew that each passing day drew them closer to it.
One Saturday, while working in one of the orchards by themselves, they got on the subject once more.
Jerry climbed up a stepladder, and as he began clipping dead ends from the limbs of a pear tree, he said, “Hey, guys, I have some good news for you.”
Teddy and Clint looked up at him.
“I can always use good news, Jerry,” said Clint. “Let’s hear it.”
Teddy nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”
“Well, you know, we’ve discussed many times that the biggest problem was going to be how to finance the orphanage.”
Clint grinned. “We’re listening.”
“Remember this morning when Papa Marvin took me over there by the orange trees to help him?”
Both boys nodded.
“Well, while we were working together, he brought up the subject of our future orphanage.”
“Yeah?” the boys said in unison.
“He told me then that he and Mama Doris have talked about it. They are putting money aside every month so they can finance it for us.”
“Wow!” exclaimed Teddy. “That’s great!”
“Sure is,” said Clint. “Praise the Lord!”
Chapter Twenty-one
TEN YEARS LATER
On a Monday morning in September 1886, Pastor Dan Wheeler sat at his desk in the church office, his attention on his open Bible. A smile broke across his face. “Yes, Lord! That’s it! That will make a great sermon. You know how I love to preach on the cross.”
There was a knock at the door.
Wheeler closed the Bible. “Come in, Johnny!”
The door opened and twenty-two-year-old Johnny Bostin stepped in and moved toward the desk. Johnny was handsome in a rugged way, with angular features. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and presented a lithe, erect figure with a carefree walk. On his vest was a silver star, and he wore a pearl-handled Colt.45 on his right hip.
Wheeler glanced at the deputy U.S. marshal’s badge and smiled as he rose from his chair, shaking Johnny’s hand. He gestured toward the chair in front of the desk. “Sit down, Johnny.”
As they both sat down, Johnny said, “Pastor, thank you for giving me this appointment today, since I have to ride out of town tomorrow.”
“Glad to. So what do you need to talk to me about?”
Johnny’s nerves were stretched tight, and he felt as if a wad of chill, wet leaves was pressed to his spine. He cleared his throat nervously. “W-well, sir, l-let me remind y-you that Priscilla and I have been dating each other exclusively for some four years now, and I think she is the most wonderful girl in the whole world. I’m deeply in love with your daughter, Pastor, and—and I w-want your permission to ask her to marry me.”
Wheeler chuckled. “Johnny, I knew exactly what you wanted to talk to me about when you asked for this appointment yesterday at church.”
Johnny swallowed with difficulty. “Y-you did?”
“Yes, and let me tell you—Madelyne and I know how very much Priscilla loves you too. She is completely open with us about it, and even i
f she weren’t, it’s written on her face every day of her life.”
Johnny grinned. “Really?”
“Really. And we couldn’t have picked out a better man for a son-in-law. You’re a dedicated Christian. You love the Lord and serve Him faithfully. On top of that, like your dad, you’re an excellent lawman. We’re very proud of you, Johnny, and it is a great pleasure to grant you permission to ask Priscilla to marry you.”
Johnny sighed. “Thank you, Pastor. I will be so proud to have Priscilla for my wife and you and Mrs. Wheeler for my in-laws.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. What time frame do you have in mind about the wedding?”
“I was thinking of suggesting to Priscilla that we have a June wedding next year.”
The preacher smiled. “That’s excellent. An engagement of nine months will be good. It will give both of you sufficient time to prepare for married life.”
“That’s what I was thinking, sir.”
A slight shadow crossed the pastor’s face. “There is one thing that concerns me, though.”
Johnny grinned. “My job, right?”
“Right. It concerns me that as a deputy U.S. marshal, you have to spend so much time traveling in pursuit of outlaws. I understand this is what the job demands, but I’m thinking about how much Priscilla misses you now, when you’re gone sometimes weeks on end. It’s going to be even harder for her when you’re married.”
“Pastor, Priscilla and I have discussed this subject extensively. She, of course, is aware of the danger I’m in just wearing the badge of a lawman. And second, she is aware of the demands that fall on a federal deputy to be away from home weeks on end. She’s quite a girl, sir. She insists she can handle it.”
Wheeler smiled. “You’ve got that right. She is quite a girl. I know she’s got the fortitude to handle the badge part, but I just hate to see her having to be without her husband so much of the time.”
“Well, let me tell you, Pastor, I’ve been giving that a lot of thought myself. I want to be fair to her. Marriage is a partnership, I know, and it can’t be all just one mate’s desires. So let me tell you what I’ve been considering. One of my father’s four deputies—Randy Ashbrook—is talking about retiring.”
“Oh? Does this have to do with the wound he sustained in his leg in the shootout with the stagecoach robbers a year or so ago?”
“Yes. As you may know, the bone in his thigh was shattered.”
“I recall reading that in the newspaper.”
“Randy has to use a cane, and he walks with a definite limp. Dad gave him a desk job, but this has cut the force to three deputies who are fit physically to do a deputy’s job. Dad needs another deputy, but the county can’t afford the extra salary. Randy knows this, and I’m sure that’s why he is planning to retire. He has been offered a desk job at the Pike’s Peak Bank.”
“Oh, good.”
“So, I’m going to talk to Dad today about the possibility of hiring me in Randy’s place when he actually retires. I don’t doubt at all that he will hire me. I haven’t spoken to Priscilla about it yet, but I will do so tonight after I’ve talked to Dad.”
“Sounds good to me. It’s difficult enough for a lawman’s wife to live with the constant danger her husband faces daily. Your mother has talked to Madelyne about it many times. But at least if you are home most of the time, it will help Priscilla.”
“Yes, sir. And the Lord is going to see that it happens, I am sure.”
“So when you leave town tomorrow, who are you going after?”
“You’re aware of the infamous outlaw gang led by Dolph Widner?”
“Oh yes. Like everyone else in these parts, I’m well-acquainted with the wicked deeds of the Widner gang. They’ve robbed banks, stores, and stagecoaches, and have killed many innocent people in cold blood.”
“Right. Have you ever met my boss, Chief U.S. Marshal Max Carew?”
“Yes. We’ve met on a couple of occasions.”
“Well, Chief Carew has assigned another deputy marshal named Jack Caldwell and me to go on the trail of the Widner gang. They’re holed up somewhere on the plains of eastern Colorado. You probably read about the big bank job they pulled in Pueblo on Friday.”
“I did.”
“The robbery netted them over a hundred thousand dollars. You also know then that they killed three bank employees, and in the shootout with Pueblo’s town marshal, they wounded him seriously.”
Wheeler nodded solemnly.
“Two of Widner’s men were shot and killed in the shootout.”
“Yes.”
“This leaves Widner with only four men besides himself. Chief Carew wasn’t sure just which direction the rest of the gang had fled until he got a tip from a farmer east of Pueblo yesterday afternoon.”
“I see.”
“The farmer told Chief Carew that Widner and his gang stopped at his place to fill up their canteens at his well. They didn’t see him. He recognized Widner from his picture being in the newspapers, and was hiding nearby. He heard them say they were going to hole up somewhere close and take it easy for a while. Chief Carew is waiting for Jack Caldwell to get back from taking a convicted outlaw to the Canon City prison. He’s due back this afternoon. He and I will head east and go after the Widner gang.”
“But there are five of them, Johnny. Shouldn’t Chief Carew send more than two of you?”
“Like Dad, he’s short on deputies too. Jack and I will just have to find a way to surprise them and get the drop on them.”
“Well, I’ll be praying for you. Let’s have prayer together right now.”
The pastor led as they prayed, asking God to guide and direct Johnny and Priscilla as they became engaged that evening, and to protect Johnny and Deputy Jack Caldwell as they went in pursuit of the gang tomorrow.
When the amen was said, both men rose to their feet and Wheeler rounded the desk. He shook Johnny’s hand again. “I’m excited for you and Priscilla. May the Lord bless you, son, as you propose.”
“Thank you, Pastor. I like that ‘son’ part.”
Wheeler grinned. “Figure I might as well get used to calling you that.”
“Sure sounds good, sir. Makes me mighty proud, too.”
Deputy Randy Ashbrook was at the front desk in the sheriff’s office when he looked up and saw Johnny Bostin come in. “Hey, look who’s here! Hello, Deputy U.S. Marshal Bostin.”
Johnny moved up to the desk. “Hello yourself, Deputy Sheriff Ashbrook.”
“So how are things in the federal lawman business?”
Johnny chuckled. “Busy—just like the county sheriff business. Lots of bad guys to bring to justice.”
At that moment, Sheriff Clay Bostin opened his office door and came out with official-looking papers in his hand. A smile spread over his face. “Hello, son.”
“Hi, Dad.”
“You need to see me?”
“If you have time.”
“Is this about—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I have time, all right.” He handed the papers to Randy. “Get these in the mail for me, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
Clay turned and put an arm around his son, and as they headed for the private office, he said, “Johnny, I sure don’t get to see you as much since you moved to your apartment.”
“Right, Dad, but a guy my age shouldn’t be living with his parents.”
“Yeah, I know. But his parents would keep him if he wanted to stay. Your mother feels the same way.”
They moved into the office and Clay closed the door behind them.
“Sit down, son.” As they sat down and faced each other over the desk, Clay said, “So, how did your meeting with the pastor go?”
“Just fine. He gave me permission to ask Priscilla to marry me without a moment’s hesitation.”
“Just like I told you he would.”
“There was one thing he brought up, though, Dad. I’ve been thinking about it for some time.”
&n
bsp; “And that is?”
“As I’ve pondered the prospect of marrying Priscilla, I’ve thought it would be better if I didn’t have this federal deputy job that keeps me away from home weeks on end.”
Clay smiled. “I’ve thought about it too, son. As you know, just being married to a man who wears a badge is rough on a woman. You’ve seen how it affects your mother.”
“Yes. But she’s handled it well.”
“Mm-hmm. But it hasn’t been an easy road for her. You know that being any kind of a lawman is dangerous and demanding work. It isn’t like being a carpenter or a merchant. It requires you to be on call literally twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. You can have the best of plans for any occasion, and they suddenly have to be changed. The only certainty in a lawman’s job is its uncertainty. You know all of this because you’ve lived with it all of your life; first with your natural father, and then with me.”
“I know, Dad, but Priscilla and I have talked about my wearing the badge, with all of the pressures that it will put on our married life, but she is completely willing to spend the rest of her life as a lawman’s wife. You and Mom have been married all of these years, and she has coped with the pressures quite well.”
“That she has, but like I said, it hasn’t been an easy road for her.” Clay paused, looking at Johnny with his brow creased. “You said it would be better for you and Priscilla if you didn’t have this federal deputy job that keeps you away from home weeks on end. In spite of what you have just said, are you considering another profession?”
“Oh no. I was born to wear a badge.”
“I’m sure Priscilla and your mother would both welcome a change in profession for you.”
“I understand that, but you understand what it’s like to be born to wear both badge and gun, in spite of the danger.”
“What can I say?”
“Dad, I look at it the same as you do. My wonderful God can protect me as a lawman, just as He could if I were a carpenter or a merchant. He isn’t limited to just protecting His children who don’t wear badges.”
Clay smiled and shrugged. “A point well made, son.”
