Gabriel's Atonement

by Vickie McDonough

  By nightfall, they reached Pond Creek. Lara set about making dinner while Jo and Michael pitched the tent and got out the bedding. Grandpa tended to the animals. In spite of doing nothing but riding all day, Lara was tired and ready for sleep. Tomorrow was the twentieth, and the land run was just two days after that. Soon they would know if they had a home or not.

  As she lay down on her pallet in the tent with Michael, her thoughts turned to Gabe Coulter. The man hadn’t returned for his booklet as he’d said. Had he gotten tied up selling his horses? Or maybe he never really intended to return. Why should he? She was nothing to him except a needy woman.

  She hated such thoughts, but they were the truth. Although she was only twenty-one, she felt worn down, haggard, ugly. What man would look at her twice when all she had to wear were faded, raggedy dresses? And what did she care if one did? She wasn’t looking for a man. Gabe had sneaked over her defensive walls and helped her. She knew not to trust a man. But how could one as kind and generous as he be a wily gambler? The picture she had of him in her mind didn’t fit with the gambler image. Could the stranger have been wrong?

  She blew out a sigh. What did it matter? More than likely she would never cross paths with Gabe Coulter again, not with thousands of people crowding into the same area.

  Gabe stretched out on his cot in the large Rock Island Hotel tent. It was his first time to stay in a makeshift hotel. All around him, men’s deep chatter blended with the loud snores from those already asleep. Rain splatted on the top of the tent. He hoped Luke would be able to stay dry and get some sleep where he’d camped near the horses. Even though the hotel clerk had assured them they’d hired armed guards to watch over the animals, Luke wanted to stay close. Gabe admired the man. Even more so, he actually liked him. Luke had become the closest thing he’d had to a friend in as long as he could remember.

  He turned on his side, thinking over the day. His only regret was that he hadn’t gotten back to see Lara. So many people haggled over his horses that he’d organized an auction and ended up selling all except for Tempest, Luke’s palomino, and their packhorse. His pockets were full of cash—enough money to purchase the supplies he would need to establish a home and ranch. He could even afford to hire some men to build a solid wood house. In his rented suite in Kansas City, he owned enough furniture already to furnish his bedroom, study, and parlor. The only problem was that whenever he closed his eyes and dreamed of the new place, Lara Talbot invaded those dreams as she walked through the rooms of the new house and decorated them. She was the one he wanted to share it with.

  But she never would.

  He couldn’t—wouldn’t—marry her, even if she was willing, without telling her that he’d killed her husband, albeit not intentionally. Once she heard that news, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him.

  He saw no answer to his dilemma.

  He yawned and flipped onto his back. Hopefully, tomorrow’s crossing of the Salt Fork would go as easily as today’s trek did. Although if the rain continued, it would make fording the river much harder. People like Lara who had wagons would face the worst of it. Would her pitiful mule even be able to make it across a swollen river pulling their rig?

  Gabe’s body relaxed and felt heavy as sleep drew near. The sudden pop of gunfire erupted, and he jerked awake. He bolted up, yanked on his boots, and rushed outside. The gunfire came from the direction of the horse corral. Men yelled. The high-pitched squeals of the frightened animals rent the air that was already filled with the acrid stench of gunpowder.

  Several men rode past Gabe, with several riderless horses in tow. Gabe stepped into the path of Luke’s riderless horse, his hands held out to his side. “Whoa, boy.”

  The gelding slid to a halt and reared, his slashing hooves narrowly missing Gabe’s face. When the animal set all four hooves on the ground, Gabe grabbed his halter and then smoothed his hand across the gelding’s neck, cooing soft, soothing sounds. The well-trained horse quickly settled under his gentle touch. Gabe led the animal back and found Luke bending over one of the guards, who’d been shot. When he glanced up and saw Gabe with his horse, relief softened his expression.

  “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you caught Golden Boy. I’ve had that horse three years, and I’d sure hate to lose ’im.”

  Gabe nodded, his gaze searching the corral for Tempest. He didn’t see the horse, but it was night and there were few lights about. He whistled, and the tension fled when he got an answering neigh. Tempest pushed through the other horses and stuck his head over the fence, obviously happy to see his owner after the mayhem. Gabe held on to Golden Boy while scratching Tempest’s face and between his ears. “You’re all right, buddy.”

  Other people rushed to the corral, and soon the breach had been repaired and the injured man carried off to the doctor’s tent.

  With Golden Boy back in the corral and standing next to Tempest, Gabe finally relaxed. Rain dampened his clothing, but he wouldn’t be sleeping in his dry cot tonight. Not when there could well be others who’d like to steal their horses. He hadn’t yet seen their packhorse, but dawn would reveal if it was still there.

  As he leaned against the railing beside Luke, he blew out a frustrated breath. “I’ll sure be glad when this land rush is over so we can get a full night’s sleep.”

  “Yeah. Somewhere dry with hot food.”

  Gabe nodded. “Why don’t you take my place in the hotel tent, and I’ll stay here for a while, keeping watch. We can trade off later.”

  Luke eyed him. “You really wouldn’t mind? I am drenched to the bones and would love to get out of these clothes.”

  “No. Go on. I couldn’t sleep now anyway, and I’m used to staying up late. Four a.m. has been my normal bedtime for years.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Go!” Gabe swatted his hand in the air. “Get some rest.”

  Luke nodded then trotted away. Gabe crossed his arms over his chest, wishing he had his duster. No sooner had he wished it than Luke came jogging toward him, holding the coat.

  “Thanks!” Gabe took it and settled into the dry jacket, relishing its warmth. He leaned back against the corral railings, hooking one boot over the lowest one. Tempest leaned his head over and nudged Gabe’s shoulder, and he reached up and patted the horse’s muzzle. Gabe yawned. He’d been looking forward to a good night’s sleep in a dry bed, but that wasn’t going to happen now. At least they’d managed to save their saddle horses.

  He nodded at one of the guards who walked past him. To keep his mind off the rain and how miserable the night was, he mentally ran through the course of travel he planned to take on the land run. He wanted to get property along the Cimarron River, near Guthrie. And he hoped that Lara Talbot got a section of land that bordered up next to his, but the odds were against that happening. Still, a man could dream.

  He smiled as he thought of all the ways he could help the pretty widow. Maybe if he bided his time until she finished mourning her husband—well, maybe something could develop between them. The image of those beautiful green eyes rarely left his thoughts. He blew out a loud sigh. When he first started on this venture, he’d never have guessed he would meet a woman who intrigued him so much.

  The blazing campfire cast a brave circle of light into the misty night. Two of the riders Payton Reeves had hired rode in fast and yanked their mounts to a quick stop, the horses trailing behind bumping into the rumps of the leaders. Payton searched the half-dozen nags for one particular horse and cursed. He kicked the water bucket, sending it flying into the shadows. One of the horses squealed and sidestepped when the bucket landed nearby.

  “That was stupid.” Albert Swan scratched his chest and yawned. Keeping hold of the ropes tied to the horses trailing his mount, he stepped to the ground.

  Payton glared at the man he’d hired to help him steal Gabe Coulter’s horses. “You’re the stupid one, Swan. You couldn’t even swipe the right horses.”

  “It was dark, and the one you wanted is black
. How’d you ’spect me to find the right one at night and with no lantern?”

  “That was your problem. I paid you to get two particular horses—the palomino and the black with the diamond on its forehead.”

  “That palomino was following us until some yahoo cut ’im off.”

  Payton spat. “Coulter, most likely.”

  “At least we got some good mounts you can sell,” Raul, the second rider, said. “Prices are running high for horses.”

  “That may be true, but that wasn’t the point of this venture. I wanted to keep one particular man from riding in the run.”

  “If you don’t want the horses, we’ll take them. I nearly lost my head stealing them.” Albert poked a finger through a hole in his hat.

  “There was extra guards posted. If two of ’em hadn’t fallen asleep, we pro’bly wouldn’t have gotten any.”

  Payton shook his head. “Get them on a picket line.” He suddenly swung about and stared into the darkness, listening. His camp was a ways north of the mayhem at the border, so no one should come this way unless his men had been followed. The crickets resumed their ruckus, and he relaxed.

  This scheme hadn’t gone as planned. He’d just have to come up with some other way to get back at Gabe Coulter for ruining his brother’s life.

  And he would.

  He had to.

  Chapter 16

  The day before the land rush, Lara sat with her family in a crowd surrounding a minister, and celebrated Easter Sunday. The man’s loud voice carried well, but right behind them another group was playing baseball.

  The minister turned slowly, and Lara was able to catch most of his comments. “Have you ever considered how the disciples felt after Jesus died? They thought He was the Messiah, but now He was dead.”

  Crack! The smack of a bat hitting a ball reverberated in the few seconds the minister paused to allow his thought to seep into the minds of his listeners.

  “Run! Run!” Cheers rang out.

  “Slide!”

  Jo rose onto her knees and turned toward the ball players. Lara tugged her down and frowned, shaking her head. Jo scowled and flounced back onto the blanket, her arms crossed.

  “They’d lost someone who was so precious to them,” the man continued as the crowd behind them quieted, “and their expectations had to have been crushed. Woe is we.” He shook his head. “What about you? Tomorrow is a monumental day. A historical day. But what if you fail to obtain land tomorrow? Will your faith in God be crushed, like the disciples’?”

  He turned a slow circle again. “Remember folks, Jesus rose from the grave! Hallelujah!”

  Many in the crowd repeated his praise to God, as the baseball players’ chants rose in volume again.

  “When the disciples were at their lowest, Jesus appeared to them in the room, with the doors still locked. And what did He say to them?”

  “Peace!” several men yelled out.

  “That’s right!” The minister smiled. “Peace be with you. And tomorrow, whether you win land or not, remember this—peace be with you. God has not forgotten you, nor will He forsake you.”

  The crowd murmured their agreement, and Lara felt a deep peace within her for the first time in weeks. God saw them. He was aware of their need for a place to live, and He wouldn’t forsake them.

  “Rise and let us sing, ‘O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,’ for we do indeed have a thousand tongues today.” He raised his hands in the air and swung them inward then out, and the crowd joined him in song.

  Behind them the baseball rooters yelled again as the bat cracked. It was a strange communion of churchgoers and game players.

  When the song finished, the minister started singing “Beulah Land.” Those gathered round joined him singing the words:

  “I’ve reached the land of corn and wine,

  And all its riches freely mine;

  Here shines undimmed one blissful day,

  For all my night has passed away.”

  The ball players quieted, and slowly more voices, those outside of their circle of worshippers, rose up together in song:

  “O Beulah Land, sweet Beulah Land,

  As on thy highest mount I stand,

  I look away across the sea,

  Where mansions are prepared for me,

  And view the shining glory shore,

  My Heav’n, my home forever more!

  “My Savior comes and walks with me,

  And sweet communion here have we;

  He gently leads me by His hand,

  For this is Heaven’s border land.”

  And when the song finished, a quiet hush fell over the crowd. Taking advantage of the moment, the preacher hollered, “Let us pray.” He led all those listening in a prayer of thanks to God and for safety on the morrow. Then he prayed for those who wouldn’t get land—that God would grant them peace and provision. When he said “Amen!” the ballplayers cheered and resumed their game.

  Jo hopped to her feet. “I’m going to watch the game now.”

  “What about dinner? Those who attended the service are pooling food. There’s liable to be some fresh meat and sweets to eat.”

  Jo wavered. She glanced at the game then at Lara and shrugged. “I guess I’ll eat first and then go to the game.”

  Lara glanced at Grandpa and smiled. He winked at her. Food always was a good motivator for her sister.

  Benches had been moved to a central spot and boards laid across to fashion a makeshift table. Then the women moved in, filling the tables with all manner of delicious food items. Lara’s mouth watered as she set down two jars of peaches. Grandpa followed with a pot of fish stew. She hoped to be able to sample some of the other women’s cooking.

  Lara distributed a plate to each member of her family, making sure to keep Michael close. The women and children proceeded through the line first. Lara had her eye on a plate of sliced ham, but before she reached it, the last piece was taken. She sighed in disappointment and focused on a big crock of green beans with ham pieces and tiny new potatoes. Just as she was ready to step forward and claim the spoon, a woman slid in front of her.

  “Excuse me, please. I just need to grab this empty plate.” She did, and passed it off to another woman, who then handed her a platter of fried chicken.

  Lara felt her eyes widen, and she stared at the delicacy. The moment the woman stepped away, she snagged a chicken leg and thigh then glanced over her shoulder. “Jo, look. Fried chicken.”

  Jo had the same reaction, and she grabbed another thigh and speared a fat breast, which she passed to Grandpa. Lara spooned green beans and potatoes on her plate and Michael’s, thanking God for the magnificent feast. She added a slice of fresh bread and several desserts then moved away so others could fill their plates.

  Betty Robinson waved them over, and although she’d just as soon avoid the Biggs men, she couldn’t refuse Betty. Thankfully, the men didn’t join them. Sam had avoided her ever since she turned down his proposal. The meal was a quiet one, with even talkative Betty engrossed with her dinner. Soon the feast was over, and Jo rose, eager to be off.

  “Don’t wander too far,” Grandpa said. “I’d hate for you to get so lost you can’t find your way back to us.”

  “I won’t.” Jo swatted her hand behind her as she hurried away.

  “Can I go?” Michael yawned.

  “I think you need a rest, little man.”

  “But I don’t want’a.”

  “Shh…no arguing. After your nap, we’ll go see if there’s a ball game we can watch.”

  Her son’s eyes lit up for a moment, then he shoved the crust of a peach pie slice in his mouth. Lara’s gaze drifted to her grandfather, and she frowned. He sure hadn’t eaten much. She lifted her eyes, noticing how tired he looked. The days of travel had been harder on him than she’d realized. She needed to do more to help him. He had a long, hard race to ride tomorrow and needed to be in good shape.

  He set his plate down. “I think I’ll join that great-grandson of
mine for a nap. You can go sightseein’ if you want, Lara.”

  “Are you sure?” She would love to walk around for a bit but hated to leave them.

  “We’ll just be sleepin’. It would help me relax more to not have you watchin’ us.”

  “I can keep an eye on them, if you’d like,” Betty offered.

  “That’s very generous of you.” Lara rose and took the plates to scrape and wash them. “Let me walk Michael back and get him settled, then I’ll return for our dishes.”

  “I don’t have anything to do. You go on, and I’ll tend to them.”

  “Why don’t we do them together, then you can come walking with me?”

  Betty shook her head. “I may not need a nap, but I’ve had enough movin’ around to last me a month. I’ll sit and work on my mendin’ pile.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Betty waved her hand in the air. “Shoo! Go on and have a nice walk. And don’t worry none about them two or your belongin’s. I’ll keep watch.”

  Lara smiled at the woman’s kindness. “Thank you very much.”

  Once Michael had a drink and was settled in the tent next to Grandpa, Lara strode out of camp. She made note of the nearest tree and planned to keep it in sight so she wouldn’t get lost. She moseyed up next to Jo, who stood with Melinda, and watched the baseball game for a few minutes, but it made no sense to her. What fun was it to hit a ball with a wooden stick and then run in circles? She shook her head. “I’m going for a walk. You want to join me?”

  Jo shook her head. “I’m enjoying the game.”

  Lara moved away from the crowd watching the ball players and wandered through the hodgepodge of wagons and buggies. She smiled and nodded at many people, stopped to admire the handiwork of several women sewing on a lovely quilt, then she ended up at a haphazard array of store supplies on a buckboard.