The Brides of the Old West: Five Romantic Adventures from the American Frontier

by Peggy Darty, Darlene Franklin, Sally Laity, Nancy Lavo

  With one arm wrapped securely around Case’s waist, Luke steered Horse through the swaying grasses toward the northeast end of Cyrus’s land. Luke slowed the horse as they reached the mesquite-ringed pond.

  He slid out of the saddle and extended his arms to Case, whose normally pale skin shone a bloodless white. As he leaned heavily into Luke’s arms, Luke realized the kid was exhausted. Instead of lowering him to the ground to walk the short distance to the spring, Luke slid an arm under Case’s legs and carried him. Case was too tired to protest.

  Luke pushed through the low-growing trees, his back to the branches to shield Case, and up to a smooth flat rock the size of the kitchen table at the water’s edge. Luke lowered Case onto the rock, then sat beside him.

  “Sure is pretty, Luke,” Case said, trailing his fingers in the crystal-clear water. “You visit here much?”

  “Cyrus and I used to come here when the weather got warm enough to swim. We’d stay in the water until we were nearly frozen, then we’d lie back on this rock and let the sun dry us.” Luke crossed his arms behind his head and lay back to demonstrate.

  As he expected, Case copied him, lying down with his feet dangling over the edge of the rock. They lay there in silence, enjoying the penetrating heat from the sun-warmed rock and the cheerful burbling of the spring.

  Luke had begun to think Case had dropped off to sleep when his little voice piped up, “Looking up at the sky always makes me think of God.”

  Luke looked up into the wide canopy of blue. “I can see where it might.”

  “You, too, Luke? Does it make you think of God?”

  Luke pondered the question. From childhood he’d been aware that something or someone greater than himself had created the earth. The intricacies of a single flower, the majesty of a rock canyon, the beauty of a lake at dawn all bespoke the craftsmanship of a limitless being. But being raised as neither Indian nor white man, he had never heard the name of the creator.

  It wasn’t until Deborah opened the Bible and read to him of God, the all-powerful Creator of the universe, that he knew who was behind it all.

  “I’d never heard about God before you and your sister came along.”

  Case sprang up, propping himself on one elbow so that he might look into Luke’s face. “No one ever told you about God? Not even in church?”

  “Didn’t go to church.”

  “Didn’t go—” Case paused. “Then no one’s ever introduced you to Jesus, have they?”

  “Can’t say as they have. Of course, if he’s from Louisiana, like you, it’s not likely our paths would ever cross.”

  “From Louisiana?” Case started to giggle. “Oh no, Luke, Jesus isn’t a person like you or me. He’s a spirit. God’s Son.”

  Luke tipped his hat off his face and sat up. “How was I supposed to know He’s not from Louisiana?” he grumbled. “With you yapping about Him all the time, ’bout how He’s your friend and everything, I figured He had to be a neighbor.”

  Case grew serious. “I’m sorry, Luke. I wasn’t making fun of you. Honest. I was just so surprised to hear you didn’t know about Jesus.”

  Somewhat mollified, Luke settled back against the rock and recovered his face with his hat.

  “Just as soon as God made the world and the people in it, folks began to sin. They turned away from God. But even though they chose their own ways instead of God’s ways, God still loved them. He wanted to make a way for sinful people to come back to Him. You see, sin separates us from God.”

  “Makes sense.” Luke remembered the Bible stories Deborah read that spoke of the sacrifices God’s people had to offer to cover their sins so that they could be right with God.

  “So God sent His only Son, Jesus. Jesus never sinned, not even once. But Jesus loved people so much that He was willing to take the punishment for everyone’s sins on Himself so that they could come back to God.”

  “What was the punishment?”

  “Death. They hung Him on a cross.”

  Luke gave a low whistle. “Seems like mighty serious punishment.”

  Case nodded. “It is. But then God is seriouser about sin than Debs is about washing behind my ears. The Bible says that the wages of sin are death.”

  “So this Jesus fella is willing to die in the place of those folks so they can get back on good terms with God?”

  “Not just ‘those folks.’ Anybody. You and me.”

  Luke sat up. “Why would He die for me? I don’t even know Him.”

  “But He knows you. And He loves you. The Bible says so. When Jesus hung on the cross and died, it was because He loves you.”

  “So now everybody is right with God?”

  Case shook his head. “No. God offers Jesus’ sacrifice so folks can get right with Him, but it’s a present. A present isn’t yours until you accept it.”

  “How do you accept a gift you can’t see, from a God you can’t see?”

  “By faith. You accept it with your heart. When you truly realize that you want to be right with God and can’t do it on your own, then you tell Him. You tell Him you accept His gift of salvation.”

  Luke cocked a dark brow in skepticism. “Where’d you hear all this?”

  “It’s in the Bible, Luke. Every word of it. I can show you when we get home.”

  After lunch, while Deborah tidied the kitchen, Case got his Bible from his bedroom and carried it out to the lean-to. “Luke, you got a minute?” he called from the doorway.

  “For you, yeah. What do you need?”

  Case limped into the shelter. “I wanted to show you where it says all that stuff about Jesus in the Bible.”

  They sat side by side on the pallet while Case flipped the pages of his Bible. Luke bit back a sigh of frustration. The words on the pages still looked like nothing more than a jumble of symbols to him. He could make out the individual letters, but he began to despair he’d ever be able to read the words for himself.

  “Here’s one of the real important ones. It’s John 3:16. It says, ‘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.’”

  “What’s this ‘everlasting life’ stuff?”

  “It means that after you die, your spirit will live on, forever, with God.”

  “Oh.”

  Case flipped a few more pages. “Here’s one you and I talked about earlier. It’s in Romans 6:23. ‘For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.’” Case looked up. “You see, it’s just like I said, salvation is a present from God. He wants to give it to you, because He loves you.”

  Though he was far from understanding how God could love him, Luke nodded.

  “There’s one more thing, a verse I think you’ll like the best of all.” Case’s little fingers flew over the pages as he searched. “Ah, here it is. It’s in the book of John, chapter one, verse twelve. “‘But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name.’” He beamed up at Luke. “Do you understand what that says?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “It says that when you receive the gift of Jesus as your Savior, then you become a son of God. Don’t you see, Luke? You’d never have to feel sad that you didn’t have a father, because God would be your father.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Despite only a few hour’s sleep, Luke felt better than he’d ever felt in his life. He’d lain awake for hours last night, marveling over the facts Case had shared from his Bible. God loved him.

  Deborah had told him before that God looked after widows and orphans, but it was hearing about God’s Son, Jesus, that revealed the depth of God’s love.

  God loved Luke enough that He’d give up His own Son’s life to win Luke to Himself. Amazing.

  Not only did God love him, but He wanted to call Luke His child. The deepest desire of Luke’s heart, the yearning he dared not speak aloud, was to belong to someone. He’
d wanted to be not an embarrassing product of a night’s passion, but an acknowledged member of the family.

  And all this time, God had wanted to call Luke His son.

  Luke shifted the weight of the bundle of chopped wood to his left arm so he might open the back door with his right. The mouthwatering smell of freshly baked biscuits and fried ham wafted out to meet him. He stepped inside, pushed the door closed behind him with his booted foot, and started down the hall when Case rounded the corner and barreled into him.

  “Whoa there,” Luke said, lifting the bundle high so Case wouldn’t plow face-first into the wood. “What’s the hurry?”

  “We’re going into town, Luke,” Case managed between gasps. “Debs said so. Said she needs to do some shopping on account of my birthday’s coming up.”

  “Birthday, huh?”

  Case fell into step beside Luke as he carried the wood into the kitchen and deposited it in the woodbin. “Yup. April 30. I’ll be eight years old.”

  “You’ll be an old man for sure.”

  “We’re going to leave as soon as breakfast’s over and the team is hitched up. You’ll come, won’t you?”

  Even though things were going pretty well, he wasn’t going to take any chances of provoking Deborah’s ire by inviting himself where he wasn’t wanted. Luke looked over to Deborah, who was standing at the stove, for approval.

  She nodded. “We’d like you to join us,” she said with a smile. “That is, if you feel you can get away.”

  If she kept smiling at him like that, she’d have a hard time keeping him away. “Got nothing pressing.”

  She carried a plate heaped with sliced ham and biscuits to the table. “You all sit down and we’ll eat.”

  Breakfast was accomplished in a hurry. While Deborah cleaned up the breakfast dishes, Luke and Case went outside to hitch up the team.

  “So what’s a fella turning eight get for his birthday?” Luke asked as they walked across the yard. He needed to be thinking about a present for the kid and didn’t figure his own childhood would provide any clues. As a boy of eight, all Luke had wanted was a full stomach and a warm, safe place to sleep.

  Case shrugged. “Usually a shirt or a pair of pants.”

  “That right? That’s what you want?”

  Case wrinkled his nose. “Naw, but it’s the kind of things girls like to give. Deborah won’t give me what I really want.”

  “What’s that?”

  Case looked over his shoulder to be certain they wouldn’t be overheard. “Promise you won’t tell?”

  Luke tried to match Case’s solemn expression. He held up his right hand and vowed, “I promise.”

  Case looked back once again, then leaned in toward Luke to whisper, “I want a ladder.”

  “A ladder?”

  “Shh!” Case whipped around to be sure his sister wasn’t nearby. “You told me you wouldn’t tell.”

  Luke dismissed the suggestion with a careless wave of his hand. “She can’t hear us. She’s in the house. But I don’t understand what in the world you would want with a ladder.”

  Case’s green eyes sparkled. “I’d climb to the loft.”

  Now Luke began to understand. There was a narrow loft above the “sitting room,” as Deborah liked to call it. One of Luke’s responsibilities since joining Case and his sister had been to help remove the trash from the room opposite the kitchen and make the place habitable. He’d noticed how Case never missed an opportunity to join him in the sitting room, and once there how he was drawn to the rickety ladder leaning against the wall. Case would stand at the bottom and look up longingly at the loft.

  Once Luke had asked Case why he didn’t climb up and see what was there, but Case had explained that Deborah had forbidden it. Seemed that a ladder was too risky for a crippled boy.

  Since then, Deborah had Luke break up the old relic to use for firewood.

  “I’d sleep up there every night,” Case said, his eyes alight with the dream. “It would be my own special place, like a tree house high above the world.”

  “It’d be a fine place for an eight-year-old to sleep.”

  Reality doused the light in Case’s eyes. “Of course, I always need new pants.”

  His heart broken at the child’s resigned acceptance, Luke nodded. “Of course.”

  Once the team was harnessed, Luke went in to get Deborah. “Wagon’s ready, ma’am.”

  She hurried down the hall toward him, adjusting her hat. “Thank you, Luke.”

  He gave her a hand up into the wagon, a less than satisfactory experience since both wore gloves, and climbed up onto the bench beside her. She sent him a smile of thanks that warmed him all the way to his boots.

  “You okay back there?” he called over his shoulder to Case, who sat behind them, with his back to the side of the wagon.

  “You bet,” Case called back. “Let’s see how fast you can run ’em, Luke.”

  Luke darted a sheepish glance at Deborah, who met his look with a suspicious tilt of her brow. Luke decided it was in the best interest of peacekeeping to lead the team out at a sedate pace.

  Spring was in full bloom in Texas. An ever-present breeze stirred the lush green grasses, giving them the rolling appearance of waves on the sea. Bright clusters of flowers—red clovers, coral Indian paintbrushes, and indigo bluebonnets—grew in colorful abundance. For a time the occupants of the wagon rode in silence, content to bask in the wide-open beauty.

  “I suppose I ought to consider purchasing horses,” Deborah said as they rattled along the dirt road. “Oxen don’t make a very handsome team.”

  “And horses are much faster,” Case piped up from the back.

  “Thank you, Case,” Deborah said repressively. “Luke, what do you think? Should I look into getting a pair of horses? I have some money set aside. Would they be a worthwhile investment or an expensive extravagance?”

  “Want my honest opinion?”

  “Yes.”

  “Horses are useful. And the boy”—Luke indicated Case with a jerk of his thumb—“ought to have one of his own. Man’s gotta know how to ride and care for a horse.”

  Case was on his knees behind them. “Oh Debs, I’d love a horse.”

  Deborah toyed with her reticule as she digested the information. “As to the cost? What would—”

  A wonderful idea occurred to Luke. Here was his opportunity to repay some of what Deborah and her brother had given him. It was a rare experience, a heady feeling, to be on equal footing with her. In this he wasn’t a hired man. He wasn’t a student. He was an equal. “I can get a couple of beauties for you, for free.”

  “We can afford free, Debs,” Case said.

  Deborah folded her arms across her chest and sat up even straighter. “Absolutely not. I won’t hear of it. I’m sorry I brought the matter up.”

  “What—?”

  She met his bewildered look with an angry one. “I cannot abide horse thieves.”

  “Horse thieves?” he repeated with a dangerous edge to his voice. “You thought I was going to steal the horses for you?”

  Her eyes widened at his ominous dark glare, but she proceeded, “Well, yes, I did. What else am I to think? You have your own horse, but to acquire others at no cost—”

  “I have several horses,” he said coolly. “Horses gained through honest means. I am not a thief.”

  “No indeed,” Case chirped from the back. “What a silly thing to say, Debs. There isn’t a finer man than our Luke anywhere.” He punctuated his statement with a pat on Luke’s back. “You should know that.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  He knew she was looking at him, but he refused to take his eyes from the road. “When we get to town, I’ll send word for two horses to be delivered.”

  “We couldn’t accept such a costly gift.”

  “Consider them payment for my education.” Luke spoke with such chilling finality he knew no one would challenge him.

  No one spoke at all.

  The celebrat
ory air with which they’d begun the excursion disappeared like a vapor. They rode along in uncomfortable silence with only the jangling of harnesses and the rattling of the wagon to disturb the quiet.

  Luke was furious. And hurt. He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. It wasn’t the first time somebody had mistaken him for a criminal, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  But it did matter. Other folks took one look at his bronze skin and coal-black hair and thought the worst. He was used to that. But to have been around Deborah all this time and realize she’d never looked beyond the surface, to the man within, cut deeply.

  He’d been a fool to believe things were different with Deborah. To let a few warm looks and some hand-holding convince him that she saw him as something more than an ignorant half-breed.

  As bad as he was feeling, he felt a hundred times worse to know he’d ruined the kid’s trip into town. Instead of his usual nonstop flow of excited chatter, Case was shut up tight. Probably afraid to say anything for fear of setting Luke off.

  He’d never hurt the boy. A man couldn’t ask for a finer champion. The darkness that had settled over him lifted with the memory of Case’s little hand patting him while he defended Luke to his sister. “Couldn’t find a finer man,” he’d said.

  “You still back there?” Luke called over his shoulder.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Whew. I’m glad to hear it. It was so quiet I was beginning to think a big old crow swooped down and carried you off.”

  The sound of Case’s giggling warmed Luke. “There’s a flock of hungry-looking birds in that stand of trees up ahead.” He pointed to a pecan grove on the right. “Seems to me that you’d better look lively lest they mistake you for lunch.”

  Case was back on his knees, looking off in the direction of Luke’s gloved finger. “Do you really think so?” he asked in obvious delight at the gruesome prospect.

  Luke chuckled.

  “Think maybe if I sing it’ll warn them off?”

  “Seems reasonable.”

  Case sat back against the wagon wall and began to sing. In the pure, clear tones of a child he sang songs about God’s love and faithfulness, songs they’d sung after Deb’s Bible reading in the evening. Pretty soon Deborah joined in, adding her voice in perfect harmony. The combination of the heavenly sounds and heart-stirring words raised gooseflesh on Luke’s arms. Funny how even songs about God had the power to speak to the hunger in his soul.