Prairie Romance Collection

by Cathy Marie Hake

  After supper he walked home and sat at his piano. He played through Laurel’s song. The next line came to him as all the others had. One at a time.

  A muzzle flash. Mr. Rivers looked down at his bloodstained shirt. When Mr. Rivers raised his head, Ethan saw Laurel’s sorrow-filled face. “Nooo!” Ethan rushed around the counter to where she fell and held her in his arms.

  Her gaze found his face. “Why?”

  A deep ache ripped him open inside. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” He willed her not to die but could feel her life slipping away.

  He sat there for a long time with her lifeless body in his arms. Then he was beside her open grave, still holding her. They wanted to put her in the cold, uncaring earth, but he wouldn’t let them.

  He woke to find his arms tightly wrapped around his pillow and tears on his face. “Laurel,” he whispered in the dark. “Forgive me.”

  He stayed huddled with the pillow until dawn broke over the horizon and began to light the room. His dream was quite clear. He would never have peace until he asked Laurel’s forgiveness for what he had done. He’d told her he was sorry, but forgiveness was different. Anyone could be sorry for her loss, but asking forgiveness acknowledged responsibility. Would she forgive him?

  He set his pillow aside and reluctantly climbed out of bed.

  Chapter 8

  Laurel closed the church door and headed for the cemetery. The fourth line of lyrics had been waiting for her. The second line had been there on Monday when she went to practice and the third on Thursday. It had taken two weeks for the music to appear one line at a time, but four out of the six lines of lyrics had rushed in during one week. The continual anticipation was exciting, but she knew it would soon be over. She both looked forward to the end and dreaded it. She wanted this blessing to last. If she could stop time, she would right now, here, with this song. Would the author title it once he or she was through? She would call it “I Am Here.”

  She hummed the tune and let the words play in her mind.

  I am here for you through everything;

  In the wind and rain, I am here.

  Through good and bad, call on me;

  My love for you is true and faithful.

  She stopped at the edge of the cemetery and stared. Ethan Burke was kneeling beside Pa’s grave. He was the last person she would expect there. Had he come to unleash pent-up anger on Pa? She wanted to leave but found herself walking closer. It was time she faced up to what Pa had done and begged for Ethan’s forgiveness.

  As she came to the grave, she could hear Ethan murmuring softly, pleading. But for what? A fresh red and yellow firewheel lay on Pa’s grave. It had been Ethan? A twig cracked under her foot. Ethan jerked around then stood. His eyes were red, but no tears streaked his cheeks.

  He blinked. “Laurel. I mean Miss Rivers.” He seemed flustered. “I’m sorry for intruding.” He pointed to Pa’s grave.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Burke. I’ve needed to speak to you for a long time now.” She took a deep breath.

  “Please call me Ethan.”

  Would it be right to be so familiar? “I wanted to tell you how deeply sorry I am.”

  He knit his brow. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “What my pa did to you…” She stared at his injured arm now out of the sling. “You are a good and kind man. I beseech you on behalf of my pa to find it in your heart to forgive him.”

  His eyes widened. “I’m the one who needs to beg your forgiveness. I did far worse to your pa than he did to me.”

  She couldn’t imagine what. “Pa shot you.”

  “His bullet only injured. Mine…” The words choked off, and he stared down at his splayed hands then back up to her with fresh tears in his cobalt-blue eyes.

  She stared at him a moment and pictured Ethan with a gun in his hand pointed at Pa, then a flash. She gasped. Pa fell, and then there was red. “You?”

  He nodded.

  “But the sheriff—I always thought the sheriff…”

  “The sheriff arrived later. I was only trying to wound your pa. I never meant to—to kill him.” He looked down at his shaking hands.

  Poor Ethan, forced to kill to protect others. What torment he must be fighting within. She couldn’t even imagine. She looked to Pa’s grave. Poor Pa. So desperate, and Ethan was unfortunate enough to get in the way.

  “If I could go back, I’d change it all. Please forgive me.” Ethan blinked to focus his vision, to see Laurel more clearly.

  “I am so sorry he put you in that position. Of course I forgive you. For a long time he was not the father who raised me. Believe me, he had been a good Christian man. He changed the day Ma died. He died inside, too.”

  Her forgiveness washed over him, soothing his soul. “Was your ma’s name Katherine?”

  She nodded.

  “I think he saw her just before he passed on—or thought he saw her.”

  Tears pooled in her green eyes. “I would like to believe so. He would have liked that.”

  He reached out and took Laurel’s hand. “I’m going to see to it you make it to California.”

  “What?”

  “It’s what your pa wanted.”

  She blinked several times, and the glisten in her eyes receded. “You are a very sweet man, but I don’t want to burden you any further.”

  “You are not a burden. Everything I did was to help you.”

  “Everything? You mean the mending?”

  He stared at her a moment. He already knew that giving her work in secret had been a mistake. How would she feel about the rest? “The mending.”

  She squinted at him. “Was it you? Did you pay Pa’s debts at the hotel and the mercantile?”

  He was reluctant to answer, but he knew he couldn’t deny it. He nodded.

  “Why would you do that for me?”

  He saw something in her upturned face. Was it hope? “I feel responsible for you—because I took your pa away.”

  Laurel’s shoulders drooped slightly. “The one responsible is my pa. I absolve you from any responsibility you feel you owe.” Her voice had become flat and lifeless. “Please let go of your guilt. I don’t hold your actions against you. Thank you for all you have done for me.”

  He sensed he’d hurt her in some new way but didn’t know how. Was she further from his reach than ever?

  Laurel wiped the crumbs from the table and dumped them into the slop pail. Everything she thought was good about Hollow Springs wasn’t, except the song. She longed to go play its soothing notes.

  Ethan didn’t think of her as anything more than a burden that needed to be taken care of then forgotten. She didn’t want to be anybody’s burden. She blinked back tears. Responsible. No word could have dashed her hopes faster. She’d cried after her encounter with Ethan yesterday and later cried herself to sleep. She hadn’t realized how deep her feelings for Ethan were. Her emotions were all mixed up inside her. She couldn’t tell if her tears were because of her poor circumstances or because she now knew that there was no future for her and Ethan.

  Minister Howard came into the kitchen with the tray. “Mrs. Howard wasn’t hungry this morning.” He set the tray on the counter, the food untouched. “I asked her if she wanted you to stay here this morning.”

  No. She wanted out of this house for a little while.

  “She said she’s just going to sleep, so you can go, but I’d appreciate it if you would come back as soon as the service is over.” His kind eyes looked tired.

  Relief washed over her. “I was wondering if I could go over to the church now. I need to practice a little more before the service starts.”

  He nodded. “I’ll be over in a little while.”

  She escaped out the door before he could change his mind. She breathed in the sweet scent of wildflowers as she walked to the church. She would play the mystery song first then practice the hymns; that way she wouldn’t be playing the unnamed hymn when people started arriving. She didn’t want the composer catc
hing her. But first…

  She knelt at the first pew and opened her heart to God. This was what she needed most, to be alone with God. When she had purged and felt cleansed, she moved over to the piano. She noticed that the sheets of music had been switched just since yesterday. She scanned to the bottom. The fifth line of words was there: “Believe in me; I believe in you.”

  Yes, Lord, I do believe.

  She put her fingers to the keys and sang the song in her head as she played.

  Ethan leaned against the side of the clapboard church. The song he’d written for Laurel drifted out through the open window. She played it beautifully, better than he. She’d almost caught him, but he’d seen her coming and slipped out in time.

  After he’d spoken with her yesterday, he’d gone home, and the Lord had given him the new line. And soon He would give him the last. He listened to her play it through three times; then he headed back home with the copy of the music. He’d return for the service in an hour. He needed to add the new line to the second sheet so it would be ready when he finally knew the last.

  Later, as he sat in his regular pew, he kept his gaze on Laurel. She didn’t once turn his way or anyone else’s way. She looked only at the piano and hymnal. After service she left quickly, and he followed. “Miss Rivers.”

  She stopped and paused a moment before turning his way but kept her gaze down. “Good day, Mr. Burke.”

  He’d thought they were beyond the formalities. “I would prefer you call me Ethan.”

  “I really need to be getting back to Mrs. Howard. She’s been feeling poorly as of late.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the trip to California.”

  “I do truly appreciate all you have done for me, but I won’t be leaving until after Mrs. Howard has her baby. She needs me.”

  I need you.

  “At that time, I’ll have my own means to get there. But thank you for your generous offer.”

  “But I want to help. I feel responsible.”

  There it was again—her shoulders shifting downward—but why?

  “As I told you yesterday, I free you from any obligation you think you have where I am concerned.”

  But he wanted to be responsible for her.

  “Pa did what he did, and you did what you had to do. I don’t blame you. Honestly. He was not himself.”

  “But if I hadn’t—if I had only wounded him.”

  “Then Pa would be in jail, he would still have debts, and my circumstances wouldn’t be much different than they are now.”

  He gripped her shoulders. “But I did kill your pa, and I am responsible.”

  Tears rimmed her eyes. “I don’t want you to feel you owe me a debt. The feeling I want from you is…”

  “Is what, Laurel?” He searched the depths of her green eyes.

  After a moment of silence, her words gushed out. “I want you to care about me, but not because of anything that has happened, not because you feel responsible.”

  “I do care about you.”

  “Because you feel responsible.” She pulled from his grip. “I really do need to go check on Mrs. Howard. Good day, Mr. Burke.” She turned and walked away.

  When would he ever hear her call him by his given name? Yesterday she said she’d forgiven him, so why did she seem to want to be far away from him? Lord, what do I do now?

  Chapter 9

  Laurel heard a crash. Mrs. Howard cried out. She glanced at Tommy stretched out on the floor asleep and raced upstairs. Mrs. Howard stood with one hand on the foot post of the bed, the other under her belly. “Let me help you back into bed.”

  “Stay away from me.” A small pool of water gathered at Mrs. Howard’s feet. She halted. The baby was coming. “Mrs. Howard, you must get back into bed.” “Leave. I want you to leave.”

  She backed up to the doorway. “I’ll leave once you are back in bed.” She watched Mrs. Howard struggle into the bed. “I’ll go get help.” Mrs. Howard gripped her stomach and waved her away. She was at the bottom of the stairs before she realized she had touched any of them.

  Tommy stood there crying. “Mama hurt.”

  “Mama will be fine.” She scooped up the child and headed out the door. “We have to go get the doctor.”

  Tommy struggled in her arms. “Want Mama.”

  “Shh. I know. We’ll come right back.” She hurried into town and turned the knob on the doctor’s door, but it was locked. She pounded on it. “Doc’s not there.” Mayor Vance stood a few feet away. That was obvious. “Do you know where he is?” “I think he’s out at the Shepard place.” “How far is that?” “Too far to help.” “Mrs. Howard is having her baby.”

  His eyes widened. “Martha Peabody just went over to the bank. She’s a midwife.”

  She ran to the bank. Mrs. Peabody stood at Ethan’s window. “Mrs. Peabody, Mrs. Howard needs you. She’s having her baby.”

  “Calm down, child. Roberta’s baby isn’t due for at least four weeks yet.”

  “Ma’am, it’s coming.” She leaned close and whispered about the water on the floor.

  Mrs. Peabody straightened. “Is her husband with her?”

  “No. No one.” She’d hated leaving Mrs. Howard alone in her time of need, but what choice did she have?

  “I’ll tend to her. You find Preacher.” Mrs. Peabody hustled out the door.

  Someone else in the bank piped up. “Heard tell he was heading over to the Myers’ house.”

  Ethan appeared at her side. “I’ll get the preacher.”

  Laurel stood at the back of the Howards’ bedroom, waiting to help in any way she could.

  “I’m not having this baby while she is under my roof!” Mrs. Howard had become feverish and seemed delirious, thrashing her head from side to side.

  “She can be of help,” Minister Howard said.

  “She’ll steal the baby!” Then Mrs. Howard hollered in pain.

  “If you won’t do it, I will,” Mrs. Peabody said. “She can’t be this agitated.”

  Minister Howard nodded to her.

  Laurel rushed to her room and put her few meager belongings in her carpetbag. As she walked back past the bedroom, she glanced in. Minister Howard gave her a small smile then turned to his wife. “You can have our baby now.”

  She rushed down the stairs. Five ladies from the church stood in the kitchen; one held Tommy on her hip. Rosita and her ma were among them. Rosita’s ma was also a midwife and rushed up the stairs with an armful of clean sheets. The three church ladies turned away. Could they really pretend she wasn’t there? But Rosita’s gaze didn’t waver from her. Her big dark eyes filled with sadness as she watched her leave.

  She had no place to go. “When all around my soul gives way, He then is all my hope and stay.” Her only refuge now was God. She would go to His house. He alone was her source of help and hope.

  She’d felt that the Lord wanted her to stay until the birth of the Howards’ baby. That day was today. She’d thought she’d have a few more weeks, though. The little money she had must be enough to get her to the next place the Lord would have her go. Fear gripped her heart at the thought of traveling alone.

  Rosita followed her out to the porch and started speaking to her in Spanish.

  Laurel just shook her head. All she caught was Burke and Alonzo. “I don’t know what you are trying to tell me.”

  Rosita pinched her face in frustration then pointed to the church.

  “Yes. I’m going to the church. Then I’m going to buy a stagecoach ticket that will take me as far as my small amount of money will let me go.” Why was she explaining this to her? Rosita couldn’t possibly understand.

  But Rosita’s eyes widened as though she did; then she stepped off the porch, heading into town, away from the church.

  What was all that about? She heard Mrs. Howard scream and hurried on her way. She set down her carpetbags inside the door and knelt in front of the first pew.

  “Please, blessed Lord Jesus, be with Mrs. Howard and her baby. Pr
otect them both. It’s too early for this baby, but I know that in Your hands the baby can live. Please don’t take this little one from her. Please don’t let anything I did harm either of them.”

  She thought she would pray for her own troubles, but the only words that came were for Mrs. Howard. She kept praying until she had nothing left. Then she just sat, exhausted, on the floor. She looked up at the cross hanging on the wall. “What now, Lord?” She supposed the only thing left to do was leave town.

  Ethan looked up as the bell above the bank door jingled.

  Rosita bustled in and walked right up to his window. She rattled off paragraphs in Spanish.

  “Slow down. I need English.”

  Rosita took a deep breath. “Señora Howard—go—Señorita Rivers.”

  He nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Howard is going to have her baby, and Miss Rivers got help. Everything is going to be fine.”

  Rosita shook her head and started off in Spanish again.

  He shrugged and held up his hands.

  Rosita huffed out a breath. “¿Dónde esta Alonzo? Where Alonzo?”

  “He was getting his hair cut at the barbershop.” He started to make scissors with his fingers and bring them up to his hair, but Rosita had turned and was out the door. She understood far more than she could speak. Hopefully, Alonzo could make sense of what was upsetting her.

  A few minutes later, Alonzo strode in with Rosita. “Can you come away?”

  Ethan looked over at Mr. Yearwood. “Go. It’s slow today. I don’t expect much business with people distracted over the Howards’ impending arrival.”

  “Thank you.” He grabbed his jacket and followed Alonzo and Rosita outside. “What’s this all about? Rosita came in upset, looking for you.”

  “No. She look for you.”

  Rosita started in rapid Spanish again.

  “¡Silencio!” Alonzo ordered. “Elgringo no comprendo.”

  He understood that: The American doesn’t understand. Rosita quieted. “She mentioned Mrs. Howard. I tried to tell her that we already got help.”