by Janette Oke
Clark took the new crutch and handled it carefully, looking over every angle and the total length of it.
“It’s a dandy,” he grinned. “An’ I thank ya.”
Clark, with his new “store-bought” crutch, and Juan went to the house together. Juan explained as they walked, “My mother had no desire to live alone on the rancho. As I did not wish to return to ranching in that area, we decided to sell the ranch to the man who has run it for my father. Mother is insisting on using much of the money from the sale for my medical practice. She wants us to have good equipment for those who need help. She is going to live with us. We are all so happy. Maria can’t remember having a mother. Hers died when she was a very young girl. We are all very happy, Mr. Clark, and we thank you.”
Señora de la Rosa was a delicate, dark woman with flashing eyes and a quick smile. In spite of her years and the intense sorrow in her past, she still had a youthful spirit and vibrant outlook on life. Clark and Marty liked her immediately.
“Mama has said that we shall all come to service together,” said Maria. “When God works to answer her prayers through people who worship—even though they worship in a different way than she is used to—they must have the approval of God, she says. And so God would also surely approve of us worshiping together with them. So we shall be here next Sunday—and all the Sundays—and we will be glad to help in the building of the new church.”
The prayer time together before the de la Rosas left for home was full of fervent thanksgiving to God.
SIXTEEN
Winter
Nathan celebrated his sixth birthday—a big event for him at any time, but even more important on this occasion because his grandparents were there to help in the merrymaking. The Kleins and de la Rosas also came for the event, and the house rang with laughter and friendly chatter.
Josiah got his full share of attention on the occasion, coming in from the kitchen wrapped in one of Wong’s big white aprons. Everyone had a good laugh, and Joey was pleased with the response.
Nathan had insisted he wanted a crutch “jest like Grandpa’s” for his birthday and could not understand the objections to getting him one. He wanted to imitate his grandfather in every way, and he felt that the use of a crutch—even though he planned on keeping his leg—would be one more thing he could share with this man he loved so dearly. Missie was horrified at the thought of such a thing, fearing that Nathan’s toting about a crutch might be tempting fate. She tried to talk Nathan out of it, promising him all kinds of things in its place. But he still wanted one. Clark finally had a man-to- man talk with the boy, and Nathan came away from the discussion happy that he had two good legs to walk on “like his pa.”
Willie was pleased with the profits from the fall cattle sale, and he and Missie left by train for a larger city to do some shopping. Clark and Marty took charge of the two boys while the LaHayes were gone. The children begged to sleep in the soddy with their grandparents, and the four had a cozy and enjoyable time together.
The shipment of furnishings eventually arrived, and Missie now had a new dining room—splendid in its dark wood furniture, thick rug, and rich draperies. Marty complimented Missie many times on her excellent taste, but Missie laughed and replied that anyone could have good taste as long as they had good money.
Missie, too, had a birthday. Marty thoroughly enjoyed the chance to make the cake and prepare the birthday dinner after the number of years they had been apart for this event. All the ranch hands were invited for the meal. The large family dining room was almost as crowded as the little soddy had been many Christmases ago. But Missie loved it, and the cowboys all seemed to appreciate it, too.
Marty awoke one morning to the sound of the wind howling around the little soddy. The winter’s first storm had moved in without warning. Clark was already up and had gotten a nice fire going before reading his Bible at the small table.
Marty snuggled under the covers again and thought about how fortunate they were. Winter might be here with all its sound and fury, but they were snug and warm and dry. Marty did not put off getting up for long. Clark had coffee perking, and the smell of it quickly enticed her from the bed. She crawled forth rather hesitantly, but the comforting heat from the fire meant the howling wind had no power in their warm shelter.
“My, thet coffee smells good! I think ya purposely made it jest to tempt me from the bed,” she said, slipping her arms around Clark’s shoulders and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“Ya hear thet wind?” asked Clark. “Sounds like we’re gonna find out all ’bout a western winter.”
“Guess we will at thet,” said Marty, “but ya know, it ain’t scarin’ me none.”
Clark merely smiled.
“Whatcha doin’?” asked Marty.
“Well, Henry figures thet when the storms strike on a Sunday, the folks from any distance won’t be able to make it here fer the service. So we talked it over an’ decided to make ’em up some lesson materials they could read and study at home.”
“Thet’s a good idea!” Marty enthused.
“At least this’ll help ’em to feel a part of the group, even iffen they can’t git here. They’ll be studyin’ the same portion of the Word as the rest of us.”
“Thet’s nice,” Marty encouraged again.
“But I’ve been at this fer what seems ages already, an’ I shore could do with breakfast. I was jest sittin’ here thinkin’ this is the kind of a mornin’ I could use a nice big stack of pancakes.”
Marty laughed and went to get dressed so she could make Clark his pancakes.
The winter weather continued as it had begun. The storms moved in and out of the area, leaving behind big drifts of snow. As predicted, the Sunday crowd at the LaHayes’ diminished during that time. Henry saw to it that those members of the little congregation not able to attend received Clark’s Sunday lesson materials.
The church building committee worked hard at drawing up plans and arranging for the materials for spring building. All the members of the group were anxious to get into their own little church. Juan’s mother sent away to the city and ordered a bell for the spire. She felt that a church of God should have a bell for calling together the worshipers.
Donations for materials and labor came in from many of the neighbors. Willie and Henry were sure that when a building was finally in evidence, the Sunday attendance would increase sharply.
Cookie often dropped in at the soddy to see Clark. Marty was sure he waited until he saw her heading for Missie’s for a chat or to do some baking together, and then, in her absence, he would hobble off to have a cup of coffee with Clark. Clark did not discuss much of their conversation with her—she knew he was honoring Cookie’s desire for confidence. Yet she also realized the old cowboy was deeply troubled about his past life and its effect on his eternal future. Marty wanted to hasten “the awakening” and say outright to Cookie, “Yer a sinner an’ ya realize yer bad deeds can keep ya from heaven. I was a sinner, too. But one needn’t stay in thet state. Christ Jesus came so every person can be forgiven and restored to all that God intended when He created us. All ya need do, Cookie, is to accept the gift of life He offers to ya. It’s jest thet simple. Nothin’ to it at all. No need to fret an’ stew over whether it’s a good idea or a bad idea. Common sense tells ya thet ya can’t lose on such a deal. Jest do it an’ git it taken care of.”
Clark was far more patient with the man, and Marty knew he would carefully explain what Scripture had to say about mankind’s fall into sin—beginning with Adam and Eve—about human selfishness, about every person’s need of a Savior, and about God’s solution to this need. Cookie was gradually realizing his own need and understanding what Christ had done for him, Clark quietly told Marty. He felt confident that when Cookie made his decision, there would be no turning back. Still, Marty inwardly chafed, wishing it wouldn’t take the man so long.
Scottie, too, was on the Davis’ prayer list. They liked and respected the foreman, and they longed to see
him make his peace with God. Scottie came to the Sunday services whenever he was free to do so, but he did not seem to feel any need of a change in his life.
Lane, the one who had helped Doc de la Rosa with the surgery, was growing spiritually. Daily he sought out Clark or Willie for the answer to some question he had found as he read the Scriptures. He not only read the Bible, but he endeavored to live daily by its commands and precepts. Lane could never be accused of being a hypocrite. Even the bitter Smith began to show a grudging respect for Lane and one day admitted to Jake, “Don’t hold much to religion. Always figured it was fer women an’ young’uns an’ men who couldn’t stand on their own feet. But if I was ever to git religion, I’d want the kind thet Lane’s got.”
Jake looked skeptical. “Didn’t know there was more’n one kind,” he drawled.
“Ya didn’t? Then ya ain’t been watchin’ Lane lately.”
“So where did Lane git his special brand?” sneered Jake.
“Reckon he got it from the same place the boss an’ his pain-law got theirs. It seems to be made of the same stuff.”
Jake thought of Willie and his steadiness—even through the tough times—his fairness with his men, and his concern for his community. He also thought of Clark and his acceptance of his handicap, and he murmured under his breath, “Yah, reckon it is.” Then he turned to Smith. “So, iffen they’s able to pass it on an’ are so anxious to share it, what’s stoppin’ ya from gittin’ yerself some?”
Smith did not answer. He just scowled and rode away.
When Christmastime arrived, Marty’s thoughts were often on her family at home, even as her thoughts had been on Missie during the Christmases they had been separated. Marty reminded herself that Kate was there to help Ellie make a Christmas for the family on the farm, and the last letter had stated that Nandry’s and Clae’s families would both be home for Christmas, as well. Soon after the new year, Joe and Clae and little Esther would be leaving for the city, where Joe would finally have the opportunity to get his seminary training. Marty wished she would be there to tell them good-bye, but it brought a certain joy to her heart to know they would be in the very city where Luke would eventually take his medical training. It would not be nearly so hard to let him go knowing that Clae and Joe would be there to welcome him.
Even so, Marty thought much of her other family as she made her preparations for Christmas with the family in the West.
Wong and Cookie combined their efforts to prepare a Christmas feast for all the members of the ranch family. It was bound to be a sumptuous affair, and everyone was anticipating the occasion. Marty supposed they would all eat more than they really needed, but somehow even that spoke of God’s abundant blessings to them, especially this Christmas.
Nathan and Josiah had worked themselves up into a fever of excitement. Nathan knew of Christmases past and the thrill of receiving gifts. Josiah was too young to remember other Christmases, but he was willing to take his big brother’s word for what would happen.
Marty had busily knitted mittens, socks, and scarves for the two boys, and Clark had been carefully fashioning a snow sled. “Shore enough,” he told Marty, “with all them hills around, there must be one that a sled would work good on.” Marty heartily agreed. Even though they would be many days’ jour- ney away from the rest of their family, they were happy to spend this Christmas with Missie, Willie, and the boys.
On Christmas Eve, Marty finished the last of her Christmas presents, and they packed up their gifts and themselves and went out into the starlit winter night for the short trip to Missie’s house. They had planned an evening of games, Christmas carols, and popcorn over the log fire. The gifts would be exchanged the next morning.
Nathan answered their knock and squealed his delight at their arrival, and Josiah was just behind him to echo his joy.
“Hi, Grandpa! Hi, Grandma! Come in. We’re havin’ Christmas,” shouted Nathan.
“Ch’is’mas,” echoed Josiah and pulled them in by the hands.
The evening was full of love and joy. They chatted and ate and played games and sang amid laughter and lighthearted banter. They shared their memories of other Christmases. Nathan loved the stories, but finally Josiah’s lids started to droop as he fought to stay awake.
Finally Missie rose to put the two children to bed. Nathan certainly was not anxious to go, afraid that he might miss out on something. Missie assured him everything would be there for him to see and share in the morning.
When the children were settled for the night and the grown-ups were having coffee and slices of Wong’s Christmas cake made from one of Marty’s recipes, Missie, her cheeks aglow and her eyes alight, shared her secret.
“You are going to be grandparents again in July,” she said. “We’re going to have another little one.”
“Oh, thet’s wonderful!” cried Marty, hugging her girl close. “But, my, I wish it would be sooner! We should be off home long ’fore then, an’ it will be so hard to leave without seein’ him—or her.”
“I’m hoping for a girl this time,” admitted Missie. “But a boy would be all right, too. Willie’s always needing lots of cowboys on the ranch.” They laughed together, and Willie looked pleased.
They talked further about their hopes and dreams concerning the new baby. Marty noted how thankful she was that Dr. de la Rosa would be there for the birthing. And perhaps by then he would also have his little medical office ready for use.
Clark and Marty, arm in arm, returned over the snowpacked path back to the little soddy. They were just about to enter when Cookie appeared, hobbling hurriedly toward the bunkhouse from the cook shack, a small lantern swinging by his side. Marty assumed he must be going to meet with the cowboys for their own Christmas celebration, but Clark said there seemed to be an urgency to Cookie’s steps.
“Somethin’ wrong?” he called to Cookie.
Cookie hesitated. “No, nothin’ wrong, really. Least not fer you to concern yourselves with. Scottie jest came ridin’ in with some stray cowpoke he found out there on the range someplace. Fella’s in pretty bad shape. Looks like he ain’t et in a week, an’ the weather’s kinda on the cold side to be sittin’ out under a rock outcroppin’. Lane, he went over to see what the doc would advise fer his frostbite.”
Cookie was about to move on, but Clark called to him, “I’ll join ya. Don’t s’pose there be much I can do, but I’ll take a look-see.”
He turned to Marty and spoke softly, “Ya go on in out of this cold to bed. I’ll jest be a few minutes an’ then I’ll be in to join ya. Ya might want to check on the fire again ’fore ya turn in.”
Then Clark deftly hopped along after Cookie, his crutch making strange tracks in the fresh snow.
The cowboys had put the unfortunate man to bed, Lane directing them to his bunk before he left for the doctor’s. Smithie was using the only medicine he was acquainted with— a shot of whiskey. The man was sputtering and fussing, so Clark knew at least he was alive.
“Where’d ya find ’im?”
“Scottie found him someplace out there. Didn’t even have a horse. Said it had died. He was walkin’ somewhere—who knows where—an’ the bad weather caught him. He tried to hole up in a sheltered spot and wait out the wind. He coulda been there till spring and not had the wind stop none.”
Clark smiled in spite of his concern. “Is he in bad shape?”
“Don’t know yet. He has some frostbite fer sure, an’ he’s thin as a rattler. ’Bout as mean as one, too, I’m thinkin’. All he can do is cuss an’ name call. Don’t seem to ’preciate much the trouble Scottie took fer ’im.”
Clark moved nearer to the bed.
The man before him was heavily bearded and his eyes were only dark holes in his head. Bedraggled and dirty, he looked as though he hadn’t had a meal in weeks. Yet something about him was vaguely familiar.
Clark motioned for them to move the lantern in closer, the result being a gruff complaint and a curse from the stranger. Clark looked steadily into
the thin, shadowed face and finally was sure.
“Jedd,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jedd Larson.”
SEVENTEEN
Jedd
The sick man stirred slightly and mumbled something incoherent. All other eyes in the room turned on Clark.
“Ya know this man?” asked Scottie.
“It’s Jedd Larson; there’s shore no mistakin’ thet. But he do look in bad shape. Last I seen ’im he was still young and strong—and a mite on the stubborn side. Marty an’ me raised his two girls—though it’s hard fer us to remember at times they ain’t really our own flesh and blood. We think of ’em as such.”
“Well, I’ll be a—” exclaimed Cookie, though he was not allowed to finish his statement, for the ill man began to toss and call out in his delirium. Clark leaned over him in an effort to understand what the man was saying. He straightened as he caught the one word that was repeated over and over. Jedd was saying, “Tina.”
“Understand ’im?” asked Cookie.
“He’s askin’ fer his wife. She’s been gone fer a number of years now. Can’t say thet Jedd treated her too kindly whilst she was here. Maybe he’s regrettin’ it now.”
Clark reached out a hand and felt Jedd’s brow, hot with fever. He leaned over the man again and spoke his name softly. There was no response. Clark knelt down beside the bed and took the man’s hand in his. He began to talk to Jedd. The cowboys gradually moved back from the bed to allow the two men a degree of privacy.
“Jedd,” Clark said clearly, “Jedd, this is Clark. Clark Davis, yer neighbor. Remember me, Jedd? Clark Davis. Clark and Marty. Ya left yer girls with us, Jedd, when ya decided to go west. Tina wanted ’em to have schoolin’. Tina asked Marty to give the girls a chance, Jedd. Remember? They are fine girls, Jedd, yer Nandry an’ Clae. You’d be mighty proud of ’em. Both of ’em married. Nandry has a family of four. An’ Clae’s got a little girl. Yer a grandpa, Jedd. A grandpa five times over. You’d be proud of yer grandchildren, too, could ya see ’em.”
