by DiAnn Mills
John could be right. Oh, she should have run when she had the chance.
Forty-five minutes later, they entered the town of Rocky Falls. She’d ridden through it before when looking for directions to Oberlander’s ranch. Another bad decision.
At the other end of the town, past the marshal’s office, the saloon and hotel, the general store, undertaker, newspaper, feed store, and the telegraph office, stood a small church, built mostly of stone with a wooden steeple extending from the front portion of the roof. She sure wished she knew what to expect before she walked inside.
John pulled the team of horses to a stop.
Run now while you have the chance. But she remembered his finger pressed under her chin and his promise to come after her if she took off.
“There’s Mr. Oberlander,” Miss Leah said. “He doesn’t miss a Sunday.”
The big man rode their way on the mare Bert had tried to return. She swallowed hard.
“Mornin', Mr. Oberlander,” John said.
Oberlander smiled and removed his hat, a spotless one that looked new. “Mornin', Miss Leah. You too, Miss. Don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Oh, we have.” Bert took a deep breath.
John cleared his throat.
“Are we courtin', John?” Mr. Oberlander grinned.
His face turned the color of the tomatoes from Miss Leah’s garden. “Not exactly.”
Mr. Oberlander craned his neck and greeted the boys in the back of the wagon, his large frame lifting from the saddle. “Did the little horse thief run off?”
Davis stood. “No sir. That’s her sittin’ between Mama and John.”
Mr. Oberlander gaped at Bert for about two seconds and then laughed until he had to wipe his eyes. His weathered face spread full, and folks turned to see what he found so funny. The boys in the back of the wagon joined him, but not John Timmons seated beside her. She felt him stiffen.
“John, you got trouble on your hands now. Better you than me.”
Seemed like a lot of folks were laughin’ at John’s expense. Bert sighed and realized how sorry she felt for him. He’d done a good deed, and too many people were making fun of him.
John lifted his mama down from the buckboard, then reached for Bert. When his arms grabbed her waist, she sensed the heat rising in her neck and face. She must look like a tomato now too.
“I’m sorry about the teasin',” she whispered.
He frowned. But at least he didn’t hit her. He drew in a long breath. “No need to be shakin'.” He noticed? “Church isn’t a place where folks will hurt you.” He said it so softly that only she could hear. “People here love God and want to show it by singing about Him and listening to what the Bible says about how we should live.”
She blinked and nodded. “Thanks. New things bother me.”
“This is the one place you can feel safe. Preacher Waller is a good man.”
She realized he’d spent too much time talking to her quietlike, and he’d invited his brothers and anyone else to begin the teasing again.
Running was so much easier. Being hungry hurt her stomach, but it didn’t make her heart ache for a life she’d never have.
“We have a few minutes,” John said. “Let’s take a little walk until you stop shaking.”
“Your brothers and Mr. Oberlander will tease you.”
His slight smile eased her. “I can handle it.” He turned to Leah. “Save us a place. Bert’s not doing well.”
Leah tilted her head, and a curious look passed over her face. “Don’t be long.”
Bert walked with John across the road to a pasture where a couple of horses grazed. She appreciated that he didn’t touch her, and his stride matched hers and not his. They stopped at the fence while she willed her insides to stop whirling like a twister.
“New experiences sometimes get me flustered.” He stared out over the thick green pasture, just as she was doing. “But the important thing to remember is God wants us in His house, and He doesn’t want us to be afraid of Him. The folks who come are good too.”
She nodded, basking in his gentle tone. John Timmons didn’t resemble her brothers, and she was grateful for his kindness.
“Are you going to be all right?”
“Yes sir. I won’t faint.”
He chuckled, and she liked the sound of it.
Inside the church, Bert sat between Leah and John on wooden benches that were carved on the ends. A large wooden cross mounted on the back wall caught her attention. Questions about what it meant and why it must be important settled on her mind.
With Miss Leah’s presence, she attempted to calm herself. Her left foot tapped against the floor. Leah reached over and placed her hand on Bert’s knee. She needed to simply sit quietly until church was over.
Some folks were staring. What were they thinking? Did they know Leon had tried to hang her for stealing a horse, but John stopped him? Had they figured out he regretted saving her? Did some of them assume she and John were courtin’ like Mr. Oberlander had done? Oh, the questions weighing against her brain.
A woman began to play a song on the piano. Bert turned her attention to the music, allowing it to soothe her, as music always did. Leah picked up a book from the back of the bench in front of her and found a particular page. Bert pretended interest. The people around her began to sing “I Sing the Mighty Power of God,” and she listened. The tune was easy to pick up, and the words were fitting for how helpless and hopeless she felt.
A man dressed in a black suit stepped up to a wooden box and smiled. “Welcome to the house of God.”
The house of God? Could she endure this?
Leah wanted to glance Bert’s way, but the poor girl couldn’t seem to sit still. If Bert had been one of the boys, Leah would have quieted her with a mama’s special look. Considering the situation, she should have thought through the seating better to make sure Bert didn’t sit beside John. But she’d simply gone with the usual arrangement—making sure Mark was on one side of John and Aaron on Leah’s other side with Davis. Mark and Aaron were more mischievous than a dozen boys. And it seemed like the older they got, the more they found to do to aggravate those around them.
Throughout the sermon, Leah observed Bert’s uneasiness with Preacher Waller’s words. The only telltale signs were the crinkle in her forehead and the earnest concentration splayed across her face. Once she whisked away a tear. Poor girl. Hearing about God for the first time had to be a shock, especially if the Holy Spirit was working in her heart. Leah had prayed for Bert to be moved toward the ways of God, but sometimes that took more than one meeting with His Word and other believers. Sometimes it took years.
Leah listened to the beginnings of another hymn, but for the life of her she couldn’t concentrate on the words. Sometimes Preacher Waller chose unfamiliar hymns, claiming the words were what mattered. Of course that made them impossible to sing.
While Leah stumbled over the notes and words, her mind wandered. Seemed like John had been born age thirty. Much too serious a good amount of the time. Oh, he laughed and teased with his brothers, but he wore “head of the household” like a soldier’s bandage. She wanted him to experience happiness and the satisfaction of living his life for God. Perhaps Bert could spark some life into him. He certainly had displayed a sweet spirit to her today.
Did John understand that God brought Bert into their lives for a reason?
Oh dear, should she be thinking about such things? The girl had seen abuse, and certainly more times than Leon’s beating. The nightmare last night had clearly shown the girl had a troubled past.
Every time Leah reached out and reined in her wayward mind to worship God, something else entered her thoughts.
Leah thought through each one of her sons—their strengths and their weaknesses. Oh, she wanted so much for them. And Bert … what did she see in the girl’s future?
She inwardly gasped. Goodness, she was thinking of the girl as her own.
Mercy, get your mind back on God wh
ere it ought to be.
CHAPTER 9
Two days before Evan’s birthday, John saddled up Racer to pay another visit to Victor Oberlander at the Wide O. He had a few qualms about calling on the man after the humiliation surrounding Bert and her … identity. But if John was to give a homestead parcel of land to Evan for his birthday, he needed to swallow his pride and get the purchase made.
By now Leon had learned the boy he wanted to hang was a woman. The knowledge had either made him angrier or embarrassed. Hopefully the latter. No one needed to have a hot-tempered man as an enemy.
John rode across Oberlander land with his thoughts on the prime acreage—thick grasses and woods already thinned by nature. Most of the Wide O contained the same richness, a dream for any rancher. Pastureland for as far as the eye could see seemed to wave at a man and beckon him to enjoy what it offered. The Timmons land held the same magic—or maybe it was John’s love of working with nature that sealed his heart to a slice of heaven.
He rode on up to the grand house without meeting anyone. Oberlander must have seen him coming, because he stood on the front porch and watched John make his way toward him.
“Mornin', John. I’ve thought about you since I saw you in church. Haven’t had a good belly laugh like that in a long time.” He puffed on a pipe.
“You and my brothers.” Let Oberlander laugh all day as long as they agreed on a deal for the six hundred forty acres.
“What brings you here? You’re not the type of man to pay a social call.”
The man knew John well. “I’d like to talk business, sir.”
Oberlander invited John inside to a room off the kitchen that he used as an office. The smells of fine whiskey and stale tobacco permeated the room, and the expensive furnishings made him nervous. He took a quick glance down at his boots to make sure they were clean. If his mama had a house as fine as this, his brothers would have to work real hard not to wrestle and destroy it.
While the two men settled back in plush, leather chairs, a wrinkled Mexican man brought them fresh coffee.
“What can I do for you?” the big man said. “Is your new ranch hand more than you bargained for?”
“She’s helping my mother, so I don’t have to keep her in tow.”
Oberlander chuckled. “When did she tell you about being a female?”
Humor him. “A few days after she arrived. When my brothers told her it was time for a bath.”
Oberlander enjoyed John’s blunder and leaned forward, rubbing his palms. “I know you’re a grown man and a smart one. Always admired how you jumped in with both feet to take over your mama’s ranch, and done a better job than a lot of men. But watch out. A young woman doesn’t travel alone without a past. You don’t want to get tangled up in a feud. She might have slit some man’s throat. And, John, don’t let that pretty little lady wrap you around her finger. There might be a jealous husband looking for her.”
“Yes sir.” Uneasiness crept over John with a chill that raced up his spine. He’d considered the same thing about Bert several times himself. A matter he’d put off too long in discussing with his mother and Evan.
“Ever figure out why she was riding my horse?”
“Not yet. But I’m determined to find out the whole story.”
Oberlander’s low laugh reminded John of a bear. The man had a reputation for being rough, but in actuality Victor Oberlander was more of a shrewd businessman with a strong code of ethics — his own. The problem came when someone stepped over the line of his rules. Then he got rough—been known to bring on a fight now and then.
“When you find out the reason, I want to know. Over the years I’ve learned that falling for a woman has more disadvantages than advantages. Some are good women, the kind who encourage you in gentle ways to be a better man. Others spell trouble. If you need a woman, head into the saloon and get yourself fixed up there.”
Not exactly a statement for a churchgoing man to make. Neither was his habit of drinking whiskey.
Oberlander leaned back in his chair. “You’d think I was your father. But I’m just looking out for you.”
“I appreciate it, sir. You’ve given me advice over the years I should have paid for.”
“Oh, you have. In sweat and an aching back.” He opened a brass box on a table beside him. The moment he lifted the lid, the aroma of fine tobacco filled the room. “You smoke?”
“No sir. Never took it up. Guess when I’m ready, I’ll try a pipe.”
Oberlander pulled out a cigar and stroked it like it was a bar of gold. After striking a match, he stuck it in his mouth. “What brings you here today? Breeding my mare?”
“We can talk about that if you like. I’ll get right to the point. What I’m wondering is if the parcel of land between our ranches is for sale. I’m ready to pay you a fair price.”
“Keep it up, and your ranch will be competing with mine.”
Maybe he should have laughed or grinned at what other men would have thought a joke. But John didn’t imagine the 5T would ever be a threat to Oberlander’s profits. At least not any time soon. “Maybe in about ten years. I promised myself when my brothers turned eighteen, I’d give them a plot of land so they can start their own ranching or do whatever they want. Evan will be of age in two days.”
“Is that what brought you here last week?”
This time a smile tugged at John’s mouth. “I don’t normally carry that much money with me.”
Oberlander removed his cigar and studied it as though his answers were written on the brown, tightly wound tobacco leaves. “I suppose we could work out something. I’ve got plenty of land as it is. I know we already have a deal to breed Queen Victoria to your stallion, but it would sweeten the deal if I could bring other mares.”
Whatever it takes to sweeten the deal. “Bring her over whenever you’re ready. And we can talk about breeding more in the future.”
“Your brothers are pretty lucky to have you looking out for them.”
“My pa would have wanted them to have a good start. Evan plans to be a vet so I don’t know what he’ll eventually do with the land.”
“What if he wants to sell it back to you? Costs money to go to school.”
“Then I’ll buy it.”
“Tough paying for land twice.” Oberlander stood. “I respect what you’re doing for your brothers. Let’s ride over to the piece you’ve got your eye on. How many acres are you wanting?”
“Six hundred forty.”
“If you have the money, we can make a deal.”
The first thing that had gone right in two weeks.
Bert sat on the front step and listened to Davis read from the Bible. The boy knew more words than she did. In fact, her reading and writing were pitiful. Pa had seen no use in sending her to school, said she didn’t need to know a thing but women chores. Gideon had taught her anyway until Pa found out and threatened to kick him out. That happened before a horse threw Pa. He couldn’t walk anymore or use the leather strap on Bert, but he sure could holler and swear.
“Would you like to read from the Bible?” Miss Leah said from the rocker. “I know it’s new to you, but I could pick out something easier to understand than what Davis is reading.”
Heat rose up Bert’s neck. “No thank you, ma’am. Listening to Davis is fine with me.”
“I have other books, if you’d like to look through them.”
“Don’t you think Davis and I should finish picking and shelling the peas before they get too hard?”
“I’d rather read,” Davis said. “Can I look through the books?”
“You know where they are under my bed.” Miss Leah watched him disappear into the house, then stood and took a seat beside Bert on the porch steps. “My dear, do you have trouble reading?”
Bert inwardly moaned. No point in lying. She already had too many of those smacking her in the face. “I don’t read much.”
“Would you like for me to help you?”
Bert’s heart thumped like a
rabbit’s hind foot. “I’d be embarrassed for the others to find out.”
Miss Leah tilted her head and touched Bert’s cheek. “Seems to me admitting those things that don’t come easy would say more for your integrity than running from them.”
Bert had no idea what “integrity” meant, but she did know what running was all about. “Why would you want to help me?”
“Because I see a young woman who’s beautiful, and I think her beauty is inside as well as out. I also see a young woman who’s frightened, and the best way to overcome fear is to face it head-on with knowledge.”
Up to this moment, Bert detested being a girl—boys were able to do what they wanted with their lives. Spending time with Leah was slowly changing her thinking. Being a girl might not be so bad after all. She liked Leah, and sometimes she wondered if her own ma had been like this good woman. But Bert hoped the kindness wasn’t a trick to get her to tell things she couldn’t. “Picking and shelling peas I can do.”
“Of all the vegetables that come on in the garden, shelling peas is my least favorite. But doing what I don’t enjoy means we’ll have peas when the winter winds blow. We’ll get the peas done just like we’ll improve your reading. With hard work, you’ll soon be able to read as well as any of my boys.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course I do.” Miss Leah tapped her finger to her chin as though she was working on a plan. Such a pretty woman, and her freckles—like Bert had seen on Mark and Davis—made her look like a girl. Until Bert had met Leah, she had no idea what being a woman was all about, except getting beaten when food didn’t taste good or when one of her brothers decided she needed a bruise or two.
“Miss Leah, you surely don’t look old enough to be the mother of these strapping boys.”
Leah laughed. “Those boys have started to give me a few gray hairs. Thank you. That was very kind of you. I’m thinking you and I could excuse ourselves earlier in the evenings for bed, and we could work on reading then.”
No one would know. When the time came for her to leave, being able to read might help her stay out of Simon’s path. “I’d like that.”
