Amethyst

by Lauraine Snelling

  “No, but thought I should make that clear.” Charlie nodded. “All right, I’ll head on out and let everyone know. Church at ten…” He paused again and looked Jacob in the eye. “If that’s all right with you.”

  “Whatever you’ve done in the past is all right with me.”

  “Good. Ten it is. After church everyone will most likely be invited to Heglands’—they’ve got the biggest house—for coffee and dinner. Everybody brings what they have and we share. Then if you felt like giving a lesson, we’d most appreciate it. Something encouraging would be real good.”

  He’d said that word again. If people were really feeling down because of the horrible winter, they seemed to have handled it fairly well. Or, like you, they wear good masks when out in public.

  I’ll get to see Opal. The thought flashed across his mind like a meteor in the night sky. His heart picked up and then thumped again. Lord, give me strength to stay away from her.

  “I’ll make sure the fire is started to warm the place up some. Usually the singers get together before the service and practice a bit, so we have some special music.”

  “I see.”

  “Miz Hegland plays the piano. It’s thanks to her pa that we have a piano at the schoolhouse. Rand plays the guitar, Opal has the voice of an angel, and Daisy and Cimarron do harmony. The whole group sings real fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” His mind, which refused to be controlled today, thought back to his church in Pennsylvania, a congregation some fifty years old. How different his life had been there compared to here in the badlands. His biggest problem had been staying ahead of the matchmaking mammas. Talk about life changing in an instant.

  “Well, I better get on my high horse. Thanks, Jacob…er, Pastor Chandler.” Charlie stuck out his hand.

  “Just Jacob.” He watched as Charlie swung aboard his horse and headed for the house. Now he could go back to returning the wagon box to the summer wheels and refitting the rims. Hard to believe the wooden wheels shrank over the winter, cold and wet as it had been. What he’d give for a good blacksmith.

  Once the children returned from school, he’d have them bring more wood to the circle, where they’d heat the rim, set it back on the wood wheel, and dunk the whole thing in the cow trough. Good thing Mr. Robertson had the basic metal-working tools set up in the shed by the barn. Talk about a man of all trades.

  After doing as much prep work on the wagon as possible, Jacob went to work on the woodpile. Splitting wood gave one plenty of thinking time. Which sermon to use? He’d not brought many with him. What had happened to the things he’d left behind? Perhaps he’d ask Mr. Dumfarthing to inquire into that the next time he wrote.

  And what about Joel? Other than the funeral, this would be his first time preaching in front of his son.

  Encouragement. Charlie said everyone needed encouragement. What was more encouraging than knowing that God loved them, that He would never change that love, and that He loved no matter what? Not like man’s love, putting conditions on, loving someone if they felt like it.

  You say you love Opal. Is that love unconditional? What if she never loved him back? Slam and crack—he swung so hard, the ax head buried itself in the chopping block. The two split pieces leaped apart and did flips before hitting the ground. That was the question of course. What if she truly loved Atticus? And Atticus came back for her?

  He set another chunk on the block and slammed the ax home. What if Opal was not the woman God had in mind for him? He’d been so certain she was when he talked with Rand early in December and he’d agreed not to say anything to her until after her sixteenth birthday, a year from next month. Then he’d been a ranch hand; now he might be a preacher again. Would Opal want to be a preacher’s wife?

  “Goodness, Mr. Chandler, you trying to chop enough for next winter too?” Cora Robertson stopped on the back porch.

  Jacob wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. “Hello, Mrs. Robertson. Do you need something?”

  “Not at the moment. You just looked like you were fighting a battle or something.”

  “I started out planning a sermon and got carried away, I guess.”

  “Well, if you were thinking hellfire and brimstone, I wouldn’t be surprised. Coffee will be hot in a minute or two. You want a break?”

  “Thanks.” He glanced around at the split wood. They’d need to haul in dry trees pretty soon, and from what he’d seen, there wouldn’t be a lack of firewood this year. He’d better sharpen up the crosscut saws, and his ax needed a new edge too.

  Sunday morning dawned with enough butterflies flitting in Jacob’s middle to lift him off the ground. He bypassed breakfast and headed out to walk to the schoolhouse, leaving the horses for the others. Though the ground was drying out now, the wagon would still sink up to the hubs if they tried to use it. He buttoned his black wool coat up to the neck until walking fast warmed him enough to unwind his scarf.

  “I have good news for you.” He shouted his opening line to the crows flapping and cawing overhead. If anyone heard him, they’d think him nuts. He toned his voice down so that he could hear the meadowlarks trilling in the sun. How the music of spring contrasted with the howling of winter. Frost still shimmered in the shade, retreating from the beaming sun. “O Lord, let our hearts be open like the budding flowers, let us be free from the sorrows of the winter, and let us sing like the birds. Give me the words you want spoken so that we can praise you and draw closer always to your mighty heart.”

  “Good morning, Charlie.” Jacob stopped at the doorway of the schoolhouse.

  “Morning to you. Fire took the chill off the room, but I’m thinking on a glorious day like today we won’t need it.”

  “I think you’re right. Perhaps we could rearrange the room a bit, move the teacher’s desk back against the wall?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do people sit on?”

  “Children sit on the floor. Folks use the desks, and we got some benches out in the shed. I’ll bring them in. We make do.”

  While the musicians warmed up inside, Jacob mingled with the folks who arrived by foot and horseback, welcoming them all and meeting some for the first time. He heard laments of the dead cattle, despair at the losses, and talk of moving on. With the abattoir not reopening since there were no cattle to slaughter, building had halted, and there would be no jobs.

  “Boom or bust. Ain’t that the way.”

  “But the land is still here….”

  Charlie rang the school bell right at ten o’clock, and folks filed inside. He waited until they’d settled, then raised his hands for quiet. “Welcome, everyone. Today we will be led in worship by Jacob Chandler, a real pastor for a change.” He beckoned Jacob to the center. “Thank you for sharing with us.”

  “You are welcome to our Father’s house.” Jacob smiled at those gathered. “Our first hymn for this morning is ‘Holy, Holy, Holy.”’

  Pearl played the introduction, and the service commenced. When the choir—if five people could be called a choir—rose, Jacob glanced over to see that Opal remained sitting beside Ruby. Was she sick? One look at her face told him something was definitely wrong. Was she still struggling with all the death and destruction?

  Trying to put Opal out of his mind was about as effective as telling the blizzard to stop.

  Jacob stood before the gathering and bowed his head. “Let us pray.” When the rustling ceased, he began. “Father in heaven, we come before thee a broken and frightened people. We need to know that thou dost love us…and deeply. We need thy comfort and sustaining might. I thank thee that thou art right here in our midst and thou knowest our hearts and minds. Hold us in thy mighty right hand. Amen.”

  Jacob held up his worn Bible. “Do you believe this is the Word of God?” Several nodded; others looked confused. “The reason I ask is because I want to read you some passages that tell us how much our Father loves us, but if you don’t believe this book is His Word, then the words may sound nice, but they
will mean nothing. So let me ask again. Do you believe this book is the Word of God?” He waited for a heartbeat before several people said, “Yes,” others nodded, and someone said, “Of course,” with a snort.

  “Then listen to what God is telling you, for this book is His love letter to us, and these are His words to us. John 3:16. ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ And in First John we read, ‘That which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us: and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ. And these things write we unto you, that your joy may be full.”’

  Jacob closed his Bible. “He loves us so much that He sent His Son to die for us. ‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’ Jesus did that for us. ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.’ He is right here, walking with us through the carnage of this horrible winter where, though your cattle died, He kept us safe. He has brought us out on the other side, and He will bless us. Know that our heavenly Father loves you, and next to that, nothing else matters.” He stared deep into the eyes of the people in front of him, some filled with tears, others that looked away. But one pair of eyes glared at him. “Prove it” was written all over her face. Lord God, help Opal. “Amen.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  During his years in Arizona Territory, Jeremiah had forgotten what spring was like in the badlands.

  Even with snowbanks still covering most of the gullies and north faces, blades of green reached for the sun, and water gurgled from under the snow in a pell-mell race to the lowlands and the river. But as the snow melted, the horrible truth became known. The gullies were full of even more dead cattle that had sought shelter and been covered with snow.

  He’d planned on stopping to see Cora Robertson but rode out to the Harrison ranch instead, feeling heavier by the minute.

  “Welcome. Come on in.” Rand stood in the open doorway before Jeremiah could dismount.

  McHenry flipped the horse’s reins over the hitching rail and followed his friend inside, kicking the mud off his boots before he crossed the threshold. He’d not ridden Kentucky yet but had led him around the Hegland place to loosen him up. He figured the mud could cause problems for his horse’s shoulder so was grateful when Carl offered the loan of one of his team.

  “Your horse still laid up?” Rand motioned his friend to one of the chairs at the table.

  “Gettin’ better. Have to admit, though, he might never be able to ride out again. But then, long hours in the saddle aren’t too appealing to me either. Your men out on the range?”

  “Somewhat, but it’s pretty wet and muddy yet. The few animals we’ve seen alive are racks of bones. Never thought to see critters lookin’ so bad. Where you headed?”

  “Thought to go upriver a piece to Pinewood Creek, see how that bottom lays to build on. But the river is so high, I’d have to ride up on the buttes, so guess I’ll wait a bit.”

  “We’re adding on to the corral if you want to come on out and help. Ruby and Opal went over to Cora’s for some gab and quilting.”

  “Opal is quilting? Now, that’s a hard one to believe.”

  “Ruby hoped getting her out of the house would help. She’s having a right hard time of all this.”

  “I figured something was wrong when she wouldn’t sing at church.”

  “She says there’s no music left.” Rand rubbed his chin. “I wish it wasn’t this bad too, but…” His sigh brought Ghost to his side. “Like Ruby says, ‘The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.’ The land will come back, and we’ll grow more steers. It just takes time.”

  “And money. I’d thought to buy a few cows once I get the house underway.”

  “Some of the ranchers are selling out. You might attend the Cattlemen’s Association meeting and talk to a few of them. Probably get stock cheap.”

  McHenry nodded. “Thanks for the information. Carl’s holed up in his shop, Charlie and Jed took off, and I thought maybe you’d like to go hunting.”

  “Ducks and geese are flying but haven’t seen any deer. The antelope must have headed south before the wind. Elk are getting scarce. Beans said the snow buried the rabbits and grouse. Found birds frozen in the trees. Going to take some time for the land to come back after this winter.”

  “Let’s go on over to those beaver ponds on Wolf Creek. Waterfowl always land there.”

  Rand slapped his hands on the table. “Good idea.” The two headed out the door to mount up.

  McHenry turned to say something to Rand, and his foot missed the stirrup. He muttered as the horse spooked and shifted several feet away from him.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah, I will be. This eye has—” He cut himself off. Stop whining and just pay attention. How he missed Kentucky.

  Within minutes the two men rode off, Rand ordering Ghost to stay home. The mottled cow dog sank down on the porch, resting her muzzle on her front paws, a perfect picture of dejection.

  The sun was sliding toward the horizon when they returned, feather blankets nearly hiding their mounts. They’d tied duck and geese feet together and draped the strings of fowl over the horses’ withers and haunches.

  “Should have taken a wagon along,” Rand said as he dismounted in front of his house.

  “Or made a travois.” McHenry shook his head at the sheer volume of their hunt. “Good thing we have lots of friends to give these to. Take what you want, and I’ll deliver the rest.”

  “I’ll have one of the men take some over to Robertsons’. You can’t carry them all.” He grinned up at Jeremiah. “You always were the lucky one, hunting or fishing.”

  “Luck. Come on, man, admit it. I didn’t waste a shell.”

  “Not hard when they’re that close together.” Rand pulled several strings of birds off his horse and laid them on the porch, where Ghost gave them a thorough sniff test.

  “Thanks, Rand, I needed this.”

  “Come on out anytime. I can always put you to work here.”

  “Thanks, but I better start felling trees. Thinking on going upriver to the pines and when the water drops, float the trees down. You want to come?”

  “Hate to leave right now, but one of the men could go with you.”

  “I’d only be gone a couple of days.”

  “Anytime.”

  Jeremiah rode on back to the boardinghouse and dropped off four geese and four ducks before going on to give away the others.

  “Thank you, McHenry,” Cimarron said with a wide smile. “You come bearing gifts just like you always did.”

  “Haven’t been hunting like that since I left here. You don’t see migrating flocks like that in Arizona Territory. But the jackrabbits were big enough to feed a whole platoon.”

  “Bring me more of the geese, and I’ll start a feather bed for your new house.”

  “What a fine idea. Here I’ve been thinking on building materials and not given a thought to furnishings, other than have Carl build me a table and a rocking chair. Going to put me a rocking chair on the porch and while away the days.”

  Cimarron nearly choked on her laugh. “If you can’t find enough to keep busy, I can guarantee that Rand or Opal or someone will find plenty for you to do.”

  “Not to change the subject, but you ever heard from Belle?”

  “No. After Dove House burned and she realized she lost her investment, she hotfooted it back to Deadwood and crossed us all off her list. Opal asks after her sometimes.”

  “Might go on down to Deadwood and see how she fares.” He nodded slowly. Now would be a good time, before I get to building my house. If I can stand to ride that long.

  “Oh, knowing Belle, she’s faring just fine. Come on over for supper one of these nights, and we can catch up on old times.” She hoisted the strings of ge
ese. “Thanks.” She smiled up at him. “Be sure to greet her from all of us when you go.”

  Jeremiah rode on back to Heglands’ and put his horse away. Kentucky nickered a welcome. “Well, I didn’t get to the Robertsons’, but I sure had a most pleasant day.” He stroked Kentucky’s nose and rubbed his ears. “Old son, I sure hope we can get you back in shape for riding.” He kneaded his own back and rubbed his leg. “You ride a heap more easily than that one.”

  He headed for the house, forcing his bad leg to match stride with the good one. “Evening, Miss O’Shaunasy.” He stopped to watch her plucking the goose feathers and stuffing them in a bag.

  “Mr. McHenry.” Her nod scarcely moved her head.

  He waited a moment, then asked a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind. “Did I do something to offend you?”

  She glanced up, her eyes wide. “No. Why?” The shake of her head caused the knot of russet hair to loosen.

  Because I watch you smile, and even though you aren’t a chatterer, you carry on a conversation with others yet clam right up when I come around. He couldn’t tell her that. “Oh, nothing. Just wondered.”

  “Supper will be ready soon.”

  “Good. I better go on and wash up then.” He touched the brim of his hat with one finger and made sure he didn’t flinch as he climbed the three treads to the porch. Bum leg.

  After they filled their supper plates, the conversation resumed.

  “That Jake Maunders came by again,” Pearl said.

  McHenry wiped his mouth with his napkin. “He’s come before?”

  “I think he’s hoping to impress Miss O’Shaunasy.”

  Amethyst shook her head, a shudder saying all he needed to know.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Carl asked, his tone firm.

  “Please, I don’t want to cause trouble.”

  “No trouble, Miss O’Shaunasy. We’ll take care of him,” McHenry promised.

  Carl nodded. “You had quite a hunt.”