by Anna Schmidt
“Of course, my dear. I’ll see that he gets your message.”
“The matter is…private, Mrs. Moore. I would rather no one know of my request.”
“I understand. What about your son? Would you like me to watch him while you and my husband talk?”
“Dr. Porterfield has been asking me to allow him to stay overnight with her and her husband so she can observe him over a longer period of time and run some tests that might help improve his health. Joshua is very excited to have an opportunity to spend time with her son, Isaac. I’ll need to get home to be sure everything is all right, and the marshal will bring Joshua back tomorrow.”
“I see you’ve thought this out.” The preacher’s wife smiled as she squeezed Nell’s hand. “I hope my husband will be able to offer you the guidance you need.”
“Thank you.”
It occurred to Nell as she walked across the yard to the church that if the women were in charge of things, this feud might have worked itself out some time ago. Women—at least the ones she had gotten to know since coming to Whitman Falls—seemed to have less of a need to come out the victor in such matters. All they wanted was a chance to live in peace and have their children do the same. Women understood the necessity of compromise.
As services started, Nell slipped into an aisle seat next to Joshua and Lottie. Henry stared hard at her, his expression questioning her tardiness. She ignored him. Ernest and her nephews did not attend services, staying behind to watch over both properties. She saw Henry shift his gaze to someone entering the back of the church. Lottie placed her hand on his knee as if to calm him. Why? Then she saw Trey Porterfield pass on his way to the pew opposite where she sat. He took his place and nodded to Addie, Jess, and their children who were already seated in the pew, then glanced her way.
Nell focused all her attention on finding the page for the first hymn and turned a little away from him as she stood and shared the hymnal with Joshua. But she could not keep Joshua from peering around her, his curiosity piqued. Joshua had talked a lot about Trey ever since the day he had come to the ranch, asking Nell all sorts of questions and bugging “Doc Addie” for more answers.
How come Trey’d been able to get over his sickness when Joshua couldn’t?
Did he run that big ranch all by himself?
How come he didn’t seem to be mad at them the way the other cowboys were?
And on and on until Nell ran out of answers. Clearly, the fact that Addie had assured him Trey had been every bit as puny and unwell as Joshua was had made the rancher into a hero for her son. At the church social, his kindness to Joshua had only added to his status in the boy’s eyes. And she couldn’t deny that Trey Porterfield was a very appealing man—on many levels.
Nell barely registered the minister’s sermon, and before she knew it, he was calling for the congregation to stand for the final hymn and benediction. The organist pounded out the prelude, overpowering the rustle of people fumbling to find the right page and getting to their feet. Nell noticed that Lottie had to gently shake Henry’s shoulder because he had fallen asleep. He shrugged her off even as color crept up his neck, and he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed.
In the crush of others filling the narrow aisle once the benediction had been delivered, Nell found herself next to Trey.
“Good morning, Mrs. Stokes,” he said politely. Then he looked beyond her. “Mr. and Mrs. Galway. Fine morning, wouldn’t you say?”
Henry let out a grumble, and Lottie smiled nervously, but neither returned his greeting as Henry guided his wife up the aisle. Joshua had already pushed ahead to walk with Addie and her son, Isaac. And that left Nell little choice but to walk with Trey. She heard the whispers following them, but Trey kept walking, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes on the wood floor.
When they reached the doorway and paused to take their turn speaking to Reverend Moore, Nell deliberately stepped back, allowing Trey to go ahead and hopefully squelching any rumors that they were together. Trey thanked the minister for a message that surely spoke to the need for unity. As he went down the steps to the street, he glanced back at Nell but walked directly to his horse, mounted, and rode away.
In the meantime, Henry, who had paused to talk to another sheep rancher, pushed his way between Nell and Lottie and shook hands with the minister. “Good sermon,” he said pumping the preacher’s hand up and down as if trying to get water. Without giving Lottie a chance to say a word, he took her by the arm and headed for the street. When Nell didn’t follow, he looked back and scowled. “Come along, Nell.”
Before Nell could say anything, Reverend Moore turned to Henry. “I’ve asked Mrs. Stokes to stay for a bit and discuss a church matter, Mr. Galway,” he said. “I’ll make arrangements to see that she gets home safely and in due time,” he added, then indicated that Nell should wait for him inside as he returned to greeting the rest of the congregants.
Henry hesitated, then steered Lottie up the street.
Back inside the empty sanctuary, Nell took a seat in a pew near the front and stared up at the small stained-glass window behind the pulpit. The sun streamed through the colored pieces separated by lead solder, creating a rainbow on the worn wooden floor.
“Forgive me for keeping you, Mrs. Stokes.” Reverend Moore hurried down the aisle, sat next to her, and took hold of her hand. “How can I be of help?”
It took less than five minutes for her to lay out the business proposal Trey had made and to tick off the problems she saw with it.
“Perhaps there is another way to approach this,” the minister said, although his expression suggested he could not come up with anything. “Why don’t we pray together on the matter and seek God’s guidance?”
Without waiting for Nell to agree, he bowed his head. She followed suit, and they sat like that for what seemed a long time before Reverend Moore said, “Amen.”
“Mr. Porterfield did have one alternate suggestion,” Nell said. She had not planned to share that bit of news with the preacher, but now thought she may as well give him the whole story. “He thought if he and I were to marry…”
A range of reactions flitted across the minister’s face in the span of a few seconds—shock, delight, concern. He cleared his throat and glanced up at the stained-glass window before looking at her. “Trey is a good man, Mrs. Stokes, and he will make someone a fine husband one day, but to marry under these circumstances? You barely know him, nor he you.”
“Clearly, it would not be a match of romance or true love,” Nell hurried to reassure him. “But out here, people have married for all sorts of reasons, and surely joining our two ranches would be a first step toward setting this feud to rest.” She could not believe she had moved from seeking the preacher’s guidance to trying to convince him to support this idea.
For the first time since sitting down, Reverend Moore released her hand, sat back, and stared up at the window again. “Trey’s family gave that window in memory of his father,” he said. “There was trouble then as well—of a different nature, to be sure, but without the Porterfields working to make sure the community survived…” He continued to stare up at the window for a moment, then turned his attention back to her. “You say this idea of the two of you marrying was his?” He was frowning as if trying to find a reason why Trey would do such a thing.
“Yes. It is hard to say if he was serious. I mean, only a moment later, I was pointing a gun at him.” She had meant to lighten his mood but immediately saw she had only given strength to the minister’s doubts.
“Of course, you would benefit greatly from such a union,” he said. “You and your son.”
“I cannot deny that, but I believe Mr. Porterfield’s intent is for the community to benefit.”
“Of all the Porterfields,” he continued as if she had not spoken, “Trey has always been the most trusting, the most naive when it comes to his interactions with o
thers. He is first and foremost an artist—a man who sees beauty and goodness wherever he looks. He has taken on a monumental task in managing that ranch. If he were to add yours to the mix—”
“I would be there to help, as would my son.”
The minister smiled. “Forgive me, Mrs. Stokes, but it is your brother and late husband’s cousin who manage the true work of the ranch, is it not?”
She saw his point. If she and Trey were to join forces in any way, there would be no further help from Henry or her nephews or Ernest. And when she considered the reality of the situation, she had to question how Trey’s hired hands might feel about working sheep—the “woolies” they so despised.
“Yes, you raise a good question,” she said as she smoothed the fingers of her gloves and then pressed her hands over the skirt of her dress. “Thank you for seeing me and for your discretion, Reverend. Please understand my purpose in coming to you was to seek a way that I might do something to ease tensions.”
She stood, and the minister scrambled to his feet. “You’re giving up?”
“Even I can see the idea is ludicrous.” She smiled and offered him her hand.
He took it between both of his. “No. You have misunderstood me, Mrs. Stokes. It is my duty to look at things like this from every possible angle. I believe what you and Trey are proposing is risky, but promising. It is quite likely that you and he will suffer greatly. On the other hand, it is also possible that in time, others will come around, and this terrible conflict can be brought to a peaceful conclusion. If the two of you are willing to take that initial step, then you have my support and my blessing.”
“You are saying we should be married?” Nell was nearly speechless with surprise.
“I am saying that having spoken to you, I would like to speak with Trey and make certain you are both in agreement as to how best to proceed. Once that has been accomplished, I see no reason we shouldn’t move forward if the two of you are resolved.”
In spite of the stuffiness of the church, Nell felt a shiver run through her—whether of excitement or anxiety, she could not have said. “Thank you,” she managed.
“No, thank you, my dear. Now let’s make arrangements for getting you home.” He led the way up the aisle. “It’s been some time since my wife and I had a chance to take a ride in the country, Mrs. Stokes, and I know she has wanted to get better acquainted with you as well as some of the other sheep-ranching women. She has some idea about a spinning and knitting group using some of the wool from your sheep.”
Indeed, on the ride from town to her ranch, Mrs. Moore talked of little else than her idea for the craft group. By the time they had accepted Nell’s invitation to share an early supper before returning to town, Nell had agreed to talk over the idea with Lottie and some of the other women.
* * *
At breakfast the next day, Trey sat long after finishing his meal, talking to Juanita about his parents and his siblings and their marriages. Juanita was not fooled.
“This conversation is not about your parents or siblings, Trey. As I’ve told you before, it’s time you settled yourself, but choose carefully and wisely. Your heart may not be your best guide. Not in times such as this.”
“And yet there is a family history of following our hearts,” he said, smiling as he stood, bent to kiss her weathered cheek, and headed out to his office.
The last person Trey expected to see pulling his buggy into the courtyard of the ranch that afternoon was Reverend Moore.
“Trey,” he called by way of greeting as he climbed down.
“Reverend. What brings you out this way?”
“I need to speak with you about a matter of some confidence.”
“Come inside out of the sun. I’ll ask Juanita to bring us some lemonade.” Trey led the way to the house and then paused to allow the minister to go ahead of him. He closed the carved double front doors to hold the cool air from the night in the house. With a gesture, he invited Reverend Moore to enter the large sitting room while he went on to the kitchen to ask Juanita to serve them.
When he returned, the minister was still standing, his hat removed, his hands resting on the deep window well. He stared out over the landscape that stretched to the horizon like a vast ocean of shrubs and grass, interrupted only by distant mesas.
Trey took the tray from the housekeeper as she approached the door and set it on the sideboard. “Thank you, Nita,” he said, and she left—reluctantly.
“Has something happened?” he asked, fearing there had been more trouble.
“I had a most interesting meeting with Mrs. Stokes yesterday.”
Trey handed the man a filled glass and noticed that he drained it almost immediately, a combination of being parched from the long ride from town and wanting to get to the business he’d come about.
“And how does that concern me?”
“With her permission, I will tell you the content of our conversation. I have come here to verify that you and she are of one mind in the matter.” Without embellishment, he laid out what he had been told. “Mrs. Stokes believes her brother and husband’s family would oppose a business union.” He paused to refill his glass and took a sip.
Trey’s pulse raced. From the moment he had suggested he and Nell wed, he had hardly thought of anything else. All Sunday evening as he paced restlessly through the rooms of the large ranch house his father had built, he imagined her there.
Reverend Moore cleared his throat.
“And she is opposed to the idea of marriage,” Trey guessed.
“Not entirely. In fact, I had the sense she had thought a good deal about the two options—dismissed the one as not feasible given her brother but not entirely rejected the other.”
Trey felt a flush crawling up his neck. “And what is your opinion?” he asked.
“I have prayed on the matter through the night and on the ride out here. Yours will not be an easy union. Not only do you know little about each other, you have the added obstacle of upsetting both sides in this disagreement. While your intent is laudable, it’s possible that a marriage between you could make matters much worse.”
The minister had a point.
“And what if I have feelings for this woman that go beyond the idea of settling this feud?” Trey asked.
Reverend Moore said nothing, so Trey continued.
“Of course, I have no way of knowing if she has similar thoughts. But in time, I would hope that we might find our way to…companionship.”
The minister sighed deeply. “The fact that she came to me and then agreed to have me speak with you would indicate to me that at the very least, she respects and trusts you.” He placed his hand on Trey’s shoulder. “But the matter of utmost importance is whether you are placing her—and yourself—in danger if you pursue this plan.”
“I have asked to meet with a group of the herders led by Nell’s half brother.”
“I see. You would seek his blessing for the union?”
“Nell doesn’t need his blessing,” Trey replied and heard the edge in his tone. “I would meet with Henry Galway to try and form a sort of council where both sides are represented.”
“And Mr. Galway has agreed to this idea?”
Trey moved so that he could face the minister directly. “Not entirely, but he said he would speak to you about attending this meeting and set up a time and place.” He was annoyed that several days had passed since he’d discussed the matter with Galway and obviously nothing had been done.
Reverend Moore rubbed his hand over his whiskered jaw. “But, Trey, if a council comes together, is there a need for you and Mrs. Stokes to go forward with this union of yours?”
“By combining our ranches, Nell and I would be able to prove that sheep and cattle can coexist, then eventually—”
“You say you have feelings for Mrs. Stokes, Trey. Are you certain your tru
e purpose here lies in healing wounds in the community? Or, as my dear wife might say, is your heart ruling your head?”
Moore had a point. Ever since Trey had suggested the idea of marriage, he had pictured Nell and Juanita laughing together in the kitchen. He had imagined hosting a large party as his parents always had after the stock had been taken to market. He had envisioned holidays and children and coming home to her at the end of a long day’s work.
“Either way, will you give us your blessing?”
“You have that already. Just be very sure of your decision and the timing, Trey. Go to her and talk this through, and if both of you come to the same answer, I would be honored to perform the ceremony.” He set his glass on the tray and picked up his hat. “Now I must get back to town. Should Henry Galway come to me to set a time to meet, I will let you know.”
“In the meantime, I’ll call on Nell and get her answer.”
“Make sure she understands the risks, Trey.” They walked together to the front door and out to the preacher’s buggy. “Make sure you understand them as well.”
Trey nodded and watched the man drive away, and for the first time in months, he felt as if perhaps things could get better. Together with Nell and with the support of Jess and Addie and others in the community who prayed for a solution to the discord, he knew that change was possible. He only hoped Nell Stokes would feel the same way.
Five
Talking things over with Nell sounded easier than Trey knew it would be. Since the raids, her brother, her late husband’s cousin, or one of her nephews was always around. Of course, he could go back after dark again, but he’d already upset her once by calling so late. On the other hand, he had to see her.
For several days, he made it a habit to ride the fence line that connected their ranches. One day at sunset, he stopped at the creek to rest his horse and refill his canteen, and she stepped out from the shadows.
“You need to stop this,” she said, her voice unsteady and nervous. “Ira’s seen you coming by day after day and is sure you’re planning another raid. You are going to get yourself shot.”
