Instead of letting panic grip my heart I felt comfort and safety embrace me. Walton was wearing a gun to protect me—and the stranger I barely knew meant his words and would risk his life protecting me, too. Why? I didn’t know why? “I did run away.” I actually let myself confess the truth. “I’m looking for the man who beat my pa to death with a stick. I’m going to kill that man and then go back and face my punishment.”
“Go back?” Walton asked confused.
“My mother is still a slave and I can’t desert her,” I told Walton in a desperate voice. “When I kill Jones, I’ll go back to Virginia.”
“And be a slave?” Walton asked in an incredible voice.
“All I know is being a slave,” I confessed.
Walton stood and stared at me with confused eyes. “You’re free now.”
“Not in here I’m not,” I replied and touched my mind and then my heart. “I’ll never be free.”
“That’s not true,” Walton insisted. He walked up to me and gently put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “Beth, Jesus frees us from death and offers us life. But if we refuse to let our hearts be free…the chains around us are the ones we put there.”
I stared into Walton’s eyes and, to my fear, saw a man I wanted to love—a man whose heart loved Jesus more than life; a man who would love me, protect me, provide for me, give me beautiful children, build me a warm home, hold me when I was scared, wipe away my tears, and grow old with me as a faithful husband. I wanted to be free inside of my heart and escape the rage consuming my soul. But I couldn’t. My prison chains were wrapped too tight around my body. “I’ll be free when I kill the man who killed my Pa,” I said and pulled away from Walton.
“We have the law for that,” Walton tried to tell me. “If the man you’re searching for is found, he will be arrested and tried in a court of law before a jury of his peers.”
“Peers?” I asked and nearly laughed to myself. “A man like Jones isn’t going to let himself be tried by a white man. Jones is an evil, dangerous, vile snake!” I yelled. “His soul is poison and his heart full of the worst kind of hate there is on this earth!”
Walton stared at me. His eyes held compassion and patience. “I guess there are men roaming this land who are too wild be taken alive,” he told me. “Beth, is this man is as dangerous as you say then what makes you think you can kill him?”
“Because,” I said in a strained voice and then…I went silent. How was I going to kill Jones? I didn’t even own a gun. I sure couldn’t kill the man with my own bare hands, even though that was my heart’s desire. How was I going to kill a dangerous man who was stronger and deadlier than I was? “When the time comes, I’ll figure it out.”
“And get yourself killed,” Walton told me. He shook his head. “Beth, whether you like it or not, I’m going to be your shadow.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I would like to,” Walton promised me. “We can take a picnic today and do a whole lot of talking. I’ll get Pa’s horse buggy and drive us down to Snow River, and we can sit under some mighty pretty trees and walk and put our feet out in the water and—”
“I’ll be spending my day searching for Jones,” I interrupted Walton. Oh, how I wanted to take the man up on his offer and go on a wonderful picnic. Instead, I forced myself to feel cold inside and reject any offer of friendship. “I’m hungry.”
“Breakfast is almost ready,” Walton told me with sad eyes. “Would you like to eat alone?”
“Yes.”
“I understand,” Walton said. He backed up to the front counter and glanced at the front door. “Beth, I’m still going to be your shadow whether you like it or not. You may have stopped caring but I was raised to never give up.”
“This ain’t your fight,” I told Walton in a frustrated voice. “Just let me do what I came out here to do and then I’ll fade away with the wind.”
“No mam,” Walton told me in a firm tone. “I’m not letting you go get yourself killed. And even if you did manage to kill the man you’re looking for I wouldn’t let you go back to a life of slavery.”
I stared at Walton in shock. “Why do you care? I’m a black woman and you’re a white man. What is my life to you?”
Walton placed his right hand out into the air and drew a cross. “What was life to Jesus when He died for you on the Cross?” he asked me. “Jesus died for the world and for all His children. Now go eat your breakfast. I know you’re hungry.”
Jake appeared in the dining room doorway before I could respond to Walton. “You better go on and eat,” he told me, “Walton can be a mighty stubborn bull when he wants to be. And you best know he’s being stubborn because he cares.”
I spun around and looked at Jake. “Why? Why should he care about me? I’m a stranger to him and you. I came here to kill the man who murdered my pa and then I’m going back to Virginia. I don’t need kindness, and I don’t need love.”
“Girl,” Jake said and shook his head at me, “you better get that hate of your heart before you let it eat you alive.”
I stormed past Jake into the dining room and saw Mrs. Maye sitting a plate full of pancakes, eggs, and steak down onto a table facing a window. She smiled at me. “Breakfast is ready, honey. I’ll bring you out some coffee.”
I walked over to the table and sat down. My eyes fell onto the delicious food standing on the plate. I wanted to say a prayer of thanks but found the anger I was feeling inside disabled my desire. All I could see was my pa lying dead in a hot tobacco field. A few minutes later, Mrs. Maye returned carrying a metal coffee pot and poured coffee into a brown coffee cup sitting next to my plate. “Eat, honey.”
“Yes, mam,” I said and picked up a fork and slowly began to eat my breakfast. Mrs. Maye left me alone and returned only when I had taken the last bite of food on my plate. She came back into the dining room carrying a piece of cake. She removed my breakfast plate and sat the cake down in front of me. “What is this?” I asked.
“A new recipe. Be a dear and try it out for me,” Mrs. Maye smiled and wondered back to the kitchen.
I looked down at the piece of cake. The cake looked absolutely delicious. I decided to take a bite of the cake. “Wonderful,” I whispered.
“Ma makes a good cake,” Walton agreed walking up behind me. “May I join you?” I wanted to say yes but shook my head no. Walton ignored me. He walked around the table sat down across from me. “Are you full?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said and took a second bite of my cake.
“Ma is going to make us a picnic basket,” Walton told me.
“I’m not going on a picnic.”
Walton folded his arms over his chest. “Beth, if this Jones fella is in town, it’s not likely he’s going to show himself. Now, I spent a good few hours last night asking my friends and neighbors if they have seen a man matching the description you gave me yesterday. No one can remember seeing the man you’re looking for.”
“He’s in this town,” I insisted.
“How do you know?” Walton asked me in a calm tone.
“Because this town was where he was born before being going east. He was caught and sold off a slave,” I explained. “The slaves back home told me this is the town Jones would most likely come back to. I have to believe them.”
Walton sat silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was careful and calm. “Beth, killing isn’t the answer.”
“You didn’t see your pa lying dead in a tobacco field,” I snapped at Walton. “What do you know? What does anybody know about the way I’m feeling inside of my heart? You sit here in front of preaching at me like you know everything and you don’t know squat.”
“I know what it feels like to find your youngest brother hung to death by a band of outlaws,” Walton told me without letting the calmness in his voice slip away. “Two years ago I found my brother hanging from a tree four miles south of town. My brother was the Sheriff in this town.” Walton drew in a deep breath. “The Beaver gang assumed once
they killed off my brother the bank in town would be easy pickings. They thought wrong.”
“But your mother…she’s so…loving? How is it that she’s not bitter?” I demanded.
“Jesus,” Walton answered me. “Beth, it was a hard matter for me when I found my brother hanging from a tree. By the time I found my brother, the Beaver gang was already dead. I shot down the two Beaver brothers myself. The rest of the men in town shot down the last three men who rode with the Beaver brothers.” Walton placed his hands together. “I thought killing the men who hanged my brother would bring me peace, but it didn’t. Only Jesus brought me the peace I needed. My folks still hurt an awful lot, but they depend on the peace of Jesus the same as I do.”
“At least you got to kill the men who hung your brother,” I told Walton and stood up. “You can follow me around all you want but stay out of my way.” I stormed out of the dining room and raced through the lobby and burst outside into a hot, dry, morning. The sound of drums filled with hate and rage blasted inside of my head. I was furious and determined to kill a deadly snake. I looked to my left and then to my right. All I saw was decent men slowly drifting into town on tired horses, preparing for another hot day of work.
Walton stepped outside the front door onto the front porch of the hotel and walked up next to me. “Okay,” he said, “if you’re set on killing a man, I guess we better start looking for him.”
I turned my head to the left and looked at Walton with shocked eyes. “You’re going to help me?” I asked in disbelief.
“Yep,” Walton said and nodded his head. “I figure you ain’t handled a gun in your life and the fella you’re looking for has. I better tag along just in case there’s any gunplay. But,” Walton warned me, “once we find the man you’re searching for we’re bringing him back into town and let the law handle him. Deal?”
I stared into Walton’s eyes and once again felt fear enter my heart. I wanted so desperately for Walton to hold me in his arms and take all my pain away. Instead, I lied to him and said: “Deal.”
Walton nodded his head again and pointed north. “At this time of year, if I were wanting to hide out, I’d head to the high country. I guess that’s the first place we should look.”
“Okay,” I said suddenly becoming very nervous. I was finally going to begin my search for Jones. “You know this land. I’ll…trust you.”
Walton looked deep into my eyes. He saw my fear, my pain, my hurt, my desperation and my anger all wrapped up into one tight knot. “Beth, if you would allow me, I can go search the high country alone and—”
“I’m coming with you,” I insisted. I softened my voice. “I have to do this. Please.”
“Okay,” Walton told me and gently removed some hair away from my eyes with a kind hand. “But make me a promise?”
“What?” I asked unable to look away from Walton’s eyes. I saw home in the man’s eyes—a home I desperately needed and wanted.
“Let me take the man in alive if we find him, okay. Let the law handle him and trust in God that justice will be carried out.”
“I…” I wanted to agree, but instead, I lied again. “Okay.”
Walton nodded his head and then pointed up the street toward the livery stable. “Let’s go get us some horses,” he said and walked off the porch. I drew in a scared breath and followed him. Overhead the sun was beginning to grow hotter and hotter.
Chapter 3
Peaceful Breath
The horse I was riding on wasn’t anything more than a poor old field horse housed in the livery stable out of mercy. But because I had never ridden a horse before Walton made sure I was given a horse that was barely had enough strength to walk let alone throw into me the wind or turn wild on me. Walton’s horse, on the other hand, was a powerful, young, Pinto that looked like it could travel across the land in one valiant jump. Walton seemed right at home on the horse, too. He sat tall and strong in his saddle, handsome and brave. I felt safe with him, even though we were climbing up tough land into a land that was strange and unknown to me; but somehow, the land seemed to call out my name as if I belonged. “You okay back there?” Walton asked.
“I’m fine,” I assured Walton and raised my eyes up into a clear, bright, blue sky. “It’s very hot this morning.”
“And very cold in the winter,” Walton explained. He stopped his horse and let me ride beside him. “See that large boulder up there?”
I saw Walton point at a large boulder sitting a few yards off the trail. “Yes.”
“That’s Green Tree Boulder,” Walton explained. “No one is really sure why that boulder was named Green Tree or who even named it for that matter. All folks know is that once you pass that boulder you’re on your own up here.” Walton removed his hat and wiped his forehead. “We’re three hours from town, Beth. Ain’t nobody around for miles, and the farther north we go, the more isolated we’re going to become. Lots of bad people hide out in the high country too. And even though we’re friendly with Paiutes, there still some Paiutes who are mighty upset with the white man.” Walton put back on his hat and patted the rifle resting on the side of his saddle. “If the man you’re looking for is around, this would be the place. No slave hunter would dare come up here.”
I studied the large boulder. Fear gripped my heart all over again. I felt a darkness—a coldness—standing behind the boulder like ugly, poisonous, mouth daring anyone to enter. The land itself was absolutely beautiful. Majestic trees standing tall and firm lined the land, standing over boulders and streams belonging to a land that man would never be able to tame. But even though man would never able to tame the beautiful land, he sure polluted it with his poisonous hate. The land past the large boulder was no different than the land my horse was standing on, but mankind had drawn an ugly line in the sand forcing the land past the boulder to become tainted with danger and death. “I’m not backing down,” I told Walton.
Walton sighed. “Beth, my ma thinks I took you riding. She doesn’t know I brought you up here.” Walton looked at me with desperate eyes. “I brought you up here because I wanted you to see for yourself how deadly your search is. The man you’re looking for, if he’s up in the high country, has the advantage. No one is going to bring him out alive and you better believe he’s on guard day and night, not just against us but from other outlaws who might be hiding up there.” I began to speak but Walton held up his hand. “Beth, I found my brother hanging from a tree up in the high country. I know the type of men who hide up there. Men who are deadly but scared of the law so they hide like cowards…like snakes in a pit who will strike at anyone who comes too close.”
“Are you saying this is as far as you’re taking me?” I asked Walton.
“No,” Walton told me in a caring voice, “I’m just saying that death is beyond that rock.”
“Death was in a tobacco field, too,” I told Walton. “I buried my pa and promised him that I would track down and kill Jones. Please, help me.” I looked into Walton’s eyes and pleaded with him. “I know you’re a good man.”
Walton let his eyes walk into mine and then search my heart. “Can I make a confession before we go any further?”
“Yes.”
“Yesterday, when I saw you standing in front of the hotel, I knew I had fallen in love,” Walton told me in a scared voice. “I ain’t felt this way about a woman before…but it feels right. You may think I’m crazy for saying this, but Beth…you feel like home to me. That’s what my pa once told me when I asked him how he knew he loved my ma…he said she felt like home to him.” Walton nervously looked down at his hands. “I ain’t nothing special.”
“That’s not so,” I heard myself object. And then I felt my heart begin racing in my chest. Why? Why was I so nervous? I knew why. “You’re a good man Walton Maye. You’re risking your life to help me…you come from good people, too. Your mother has shown me…a very special kindness that I will never forget. So don’t you go putting yourself down. Do you hear me?”
Walton glanced
up into my eyes. “Could a woman like you ever love a man like me?” he asked in a scared voice.
“I’m only a slave. I’m not as special as you make me out to be.”
“In my eyes you’re…home,” Walton told me and then he smiled. “Sometimes I think about living this land and moving to a big city, but then…at night, when I’m standing alone and look up at the stars, I know this is where I belong. Someday I’ll take over Pa’s store and start running the hotel for Ma, and that’s okay because I’m home on this land. Could you…ever be home on this land, Beth?”
Even though I had only met Walton the day before I knew the man was meant to become my husband. How? Because I felt my heart tell me so. I also felt my heart break and tears begin streaming from my scared eyes. I started to cry. Walton jumped off his saddle, ran over to me, and pulled me down into his arms and held me tight. “Don’t cry,” he begged.
I wrapped my arms around Walton as tight as I could and threw my head into his chest. “My pa was murdered…I have to kill Jones…I made a promise. But I’m so scared…so scared,” I cried.
“Good,” a deadly voice laughed.
Before I could react, Walton grabbed me and ran me behind a boulder sitting south of our horses just as bullets started flying at us. “Stay down,” he whispered and grew out his gun.
“That voice…it’s Jones,” I said breathing hard. Bullets struck the boulder as I talked. Walton bent down on one knee and waited for the bullets to stop. When the bullets stopped, he eased his head out just enough to see.
“He has the high ground,” Walton told me in a calm voice. Walton pulled his head in and turned to me. I moved up onto my knees and looked into his face. And before I knew what was happening, I felt myself lean forward and kiss Walton on his lips. Walton gently touched the side of my face with a loving hand and kissed me back. “Stay here,” he whispered.
“Beth, girl, you are one stupid person,” Jones laughed at me. “You came all this way just to die. Reckon I’m going to kill you like I killed your Pa.”
The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels Page 8
