Eighteen
“I’m sure Laurel wouldn’t mind,” Tobias said as he reached for the package.
“It’s not for you to say.” Gabe snatched the bundle from the counter in White’s Emporium. “The camera is hers, as are the pictures. She ought to be the first to look at them.”
“We all took photographs,” Caleb said. “You know us Chances—we all share. If Laurel didn’t get her nose outta joint when her brothers swiped some of her paintings to use as stationery, she certainly won’t be upset if we take a peek at the pictures.”
The brown paper rustled on the package as Gabe held it securely. “I’m not changing my mind.”
Tobias gave him an exasperated look. “You lost your mind the day you decided to take a fancy to Laurel.”
Mrs. White leaned on the counter. “Young man, don’t you listen to these boys. That there is a piece of United States mail. Only person authorized to open it is the person to whom it’s addressed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Gabe set the package atop a good-sized crate and lifted the whole thing. He and a handful of the Chances had come to town. After dropping the crate into the buckboard and hauling the other one out, he’d head over to the doctor’s office. Laurel was there, visiting with her cousin Polly.
Tobias and Caleb hefted the items they’d purchased for the ranch and tromped out to the buckboard, too. Tobias plunked down his burden, then shuffled through the mail. “Rutlidge—sure you don’t wanna let us have at those pictures? I’ll trade you a letter from Boston.”
Boston—it had to be from his mother or brother. “Tempting as the offer is, I’ll have to decline.”
“Haven’t you noticed by now that on Chance Ranch, men stick together?”
“Only,” Gabe retorted, “because they’re honorable men, so they see eye-to-eye.”
“Ouch!” Caleb slapped a hand over his heart as if he’d been shot. “Nothing like being wounded with the weapon you own.”
Gabe chuckled. “Tell you what: We’ll swing by and grab everyone. I’ll spring for lunch at the diner, and Laurel can spread all of the pictures across the table.”
“That’s more like it!”
They took the largest table in the diner, but Gabe bristled when April took the seat next to Laurel. He understood why Polly sat on Laurel’s other side—they missed each other and relished the opportunity to be together. But April shared the same cabin with Laurel. Surely, she could have allowed him—
“Let’s see if I get it right,” the waitress said as she approached the table. “Doc, Tobias, and April are going to want the pot roast. Caleb, a full pound rib eye. Laurel and Pax’ll go for the blue plate—it’s chicken-fried steak. Polly, it’s either egg salad or corn bread and cold chicken.”
“Corn bread and chicken, please.”
The waitress nodded, then wrinkled her nose. “Only one I can’t anticipate is you, Mr. Rutlidge.”
“He’s a Yankee, from Boston. Of course he’ll have pot roast,” Pax declared.
“Sounds good to me.” Gabe set the package on the table and gave it a light push. “Laurel, here are your pictures.”
Gabe suspected she would have torn open the wrapping had she been alone, but since her brother was rushing her, she took her sweet time carefully unwinding the twine and paper. Inside the pasteboard box lay the camera and a sizable stack of photographs. Laurel removed the camera. “See, Polly? Isn’t it interesting?”
“Aw, c’mon, Sis,” Pax growled as he grabbed for the box.
Laurel gave him a slap on the hand. “You sit tight, Paxton. In fact, you go wash up. I don’t want you touching my pictures with hands like that. Mama would have a conniption if she knew you came to the table that filthy.”
Pax slinked away, and Gabe tamped down a chuckle. Laurel handled her brother with a mixture of good humor and firmness. She’d make a good mother. Just as quickly as the thought flashed through his mind, Gabe winced. He wanted her to be his wife and the mother of his children, but a wall stood between them. And I’m the one who keeps that wall up.
Doc turned the camera over and gave it back to Laurel. He shot Gabe a lopsided grin. “I’m always intrigued by new inventions.”
“His office is full of neat stuff,” Caleb attested. “Now let’s look at the pictures!”
“All right. Here we go.” Laurel opened the box again. One at a time, she’d remove a photograph, then tell Polly and Doc a little something about where it was taken; then it would be passed all around the table.
He loved the animation in her voice. Other than himself, Gabe knew no one else who loved Yosemite as much. He could scarcely take his gaze off of her long enough to glance at each picture.
“I took this one.” April turned toward her. “May I keep it?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’m keeping the one of El Capitan that I took,” Caleb declared. “I’ve told Greta all about it, but a picture will really let her understand what the place looks like.”
When the picture Gabe had taken of Laurel came around, he smiled at her and carefully slid it into his pocket. She blushed and quietly slid the photo she’d taken of him into the box.
“Hey. What’s going on?” Tobias protested.
Polly pinned him with a stare. “There are one hundred pictures here. Don’t tell me you’re going to have a hissy fit if you don’t see a couple of them.”
“I need you to clear room. Food’s ready.”
Everyone scrambled to protect the pictures. Laurel tucked them back into the box as Doc said, “Having a camera there was a magnificent idea. Since Polly and I can’t get away, it’s almost as if we were able to see Yosemite for ourselves.”
“Gabe traded it for some of Laurel’s art,” Pax said.
“I got the better end of the bargain.” Gabe inclined his head toward Laurel. “That young lady has a rare talent.”
“Now that I think of it, Gabe,” Caleb leaned to the side so the waitress could set down his plate, “what’s in those big old crates you got shipped here?”
“A variety of things.” He tried to sound offhanded, but the truth of the matter was, he wanted to sort through everything alone. Most of the time, he enjoyed the camaraderie of the huge Chance clan; the past few days, he’d been feeling a need for an opportunity to be alone. “Could I please have the pepper?”
After the meal, Eric said, “I think I’ll ride out to the ranch and check on Lovejoy.”
“I’ll come, too!” Polly hopped up from the table. “I can see Mama and Daddy and look at the rest of the photographs.”
Eric chortled softly. “Translated, that means we’d better grab what we need to spend the night.”
Once back at the ranch, Gabe took advantage of the fact that between chores and the pictures, everyone was busy. He slipped into the boy’s cabin and read the letter from home. Everything was fine, and his mother adored Laurel’s paintings. Friends had come to tea and admired the pieces so much, they wanted to acquire drawings and watercolors for themselves.
Smiling at that news, Gabe pried the lid off the first crate. Stanford had followed his instructions perfectly—the whole thing contained length after length of cloth. A rainbow of hues lay stacked there, all of them the finest Rutlidge Enterprises had to offer. Gabe turned aside to the other box. The lid groaned loudly as the nails gave way.
The contents of the box had gotten jumbled during shipping. He pushed past several spools of ribbon, drew out his best Sunday suit, and stopped cold. A small box lay nestled atop other paper-wrapped bundles. Gabe slowly reached in and opened it to find his grandmother’s wedding ring. Curled inside lay a little note. “I can tell she’s stolen your heart, Son. I wish you a happy life together.”
The remaining bundles held another camera with a note, “Please send me pictures of the wedding!” as well as heavy white satin and lace along with a sealed envelope labeled, “To my dear daughter-in-law-to-be.” Gabe slammed the lid on the box and pounded the nails in again to seal it. Every blow it took
to do so matched the leaden beat of his heart.
❧
As everyone took a seat for supper, Polly and Eric remained standing. Eric wound his arm around her waist and cleared his throat. “We have an announcement to make.”
Laurel inhaled sharply.
“Come the first of the year, the first of the next generation is due to arrive.”
After the ensuing din finally quieted down, Eric said, “We’d covet your prayers for a healthy time for Polly and the baby. There’s nothing more important to us than dedicating this child back to the Lord who has blessed us with this miracle.”
Uncle Gideon stood and said grace for the meal, then asked a special blessing for Eric, Polly, and the baby. Touched by the absolute sweetness of the news and the presence of the Lord, Laurel wiped her eyes as she lifted her head.
Gabe stared at her. A tiny muscle in his jaw twitched. Throughout supper, he barely said a word. As it was her turn to dry the dishes, Laurel couldn’t keep track of him after supper, and he didn’t show up when the whole family gathered for bedtime devotions.
Laurel couldn’t sleep. Long after April and Kate went to bed, she stayed up. By the light of a single lamp, she cut tiny garments out of soft white cotton and started stitching them. Sewing and art always calmed her—only tonight, it didn’t work.
She’d seen the bleakness in Gabe’s eyes at supper.
Her Bible sat open on the table to the Fifty-first Psalm. Each day, she’d read the same psalm Gabe was supposed to be reading. This one, though, she knew was aimed at her. Long ago, she’d memorized the passage starting at the tenth verse. Now it pierced her heart with every stitch she took:
Create in me a clean heart, O God;
and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from thy presence;
and take not thy holy spirit from me.
Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation;
and uphold me with thy free spirit.
Laurel knew she’d done the right thing by telling Gabe their relationship wasn’t acceptable in the sight of God. The truth of the matter was, she’d still been in the wrong. Instead of releasing her dreams and desires and letting the Lord direct her path, she’d had a stubborn spirit. Facing that fact struck her to the depths of her soul.
Lord, I was wrong. Help me to remember the joy of my salvation and give me the strength to follow Your will. You’ll have to do this work in my heart and soul, Father. I won’t ever to be ready to be a good wife and mother if I don’t keep You first in my life. It hurts to let go, Lord. Please help me.
Tears wet the little gown in her lap.
Nineteen
Gabe sat out on a split rail fence, staring up at the sky. He’d walked away from the supper table, but he couldn’t escape the sight of the tears glistening in Laurel’s eyes. She’d make a wonderful wife and spectacular mother—but he denied her both of those dreams. Oh, she’d smiled at him, a bittersweet smile that reflected how much she longed to be his wife and the mother of his babies. He knew she’d not given her heart lightly when they fell in love. But what kind of man am I to bind her heart and make her settle for nothing in return?
“Sittin’ on the fence, huh?”
Gabe glanced over his shoulder. Paul Chance stood a few yards away. “Are you speaking literally or figuratively?”
“Take it whichever way you choose.”
Smacking his hand down on the fence, Gabe offered a silent invitation to join him.
Paul sauntered over and shot Gabe a grin. “We’re both big men and some of these slats are brittle. Might break if we put too big of a burden on ’em.” After banging against the fence, he hitched up beside Gabe. “I’ve spent my share of time sitting off on my own, staring off into the distance, and trying to settle matters.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup. Fact is, I didn’t know you were out here. I came to do some thinking and praying. Seems you like the same spot I do.”
Gabe started into motion to leave, but Paul stilled him. “I reckon since you were the subject of my thoughts and prayers, maybe you’re meant to stay.”
“You were thinking and praying for me?”
Paul nodded. “Of course I am. Son, you’re a fine man—intelligent, hardworking, and kind. I’ve put myself square in front of what you want so badly, but you’ve respected my limits instead of resenting me.”
“You’ve stood on your principles, and I honor that. I can’t help wondering, though, whether there’s room for compromise. If I vow to take Laurel to church each week, read the Bible, and pray, isn’t that enough?”
“No,” Paul said baldly. “Marriage blends two souls into one, but if you don’t belong to the Lord, that bond can’t be what it was meant to be. A man is the spiritual head of a home. If your head and heart aren’t right with God, how can my daughter and grandchildren rely on your decisions and leadership?”
Gabe gritted his molars and shifted his weight.
“Son, I’m not pushing you to make any decisions. Having you here is a joy. Every last Chance on this ranch likes and cares for you. When you first arrived, I told you to take all the time you need. What I am going to say is, I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing. Instead of trying to patch up a way you and Laurel can wed, you need to concentrate on the restlessness you feel deep inside.”
“I never said I was restless.”
“Didn’t need to. You left your family. Wandered all over Yosemite on your lonesome. Stare off into the fire during devotions. Trust me—I’ve got brothers, sons, and nephews. I’ve seen the same struggle more than a dozen times. Only one thing solves it.”
Gabe gave him a crooked smile. “Laurel sort of said the same thing. She said man was made with a void only God fills—that’s why Adam walked with God in the Garden of Eden.”
“Yep. I’m sure she mentioned sin separates us from God. Being without the Father leaves us restless. We keep trying to find something to fill up the empty spot, but nothing works.”
“So your advice is to pay attention to myself instead of Laurel?”
“Did you notice how I tested the fence before I sat on it?”
“Yeah.” Gabe wondered why he’d asked such a bizarre question.
“That’s because my brothers and I put up this fence a long time ago. It was solid as could be. Able to carry a burden and do the job. But time passes. Weathering and wear take their toll. What once was reliable can crumble under a heavy burden.”
Gabe listened. He wasn’t sure where this was going.
“Son, men build fences for a reason. I’m not talking about a fence like the one we’re sitting on. Inside, men build fences so they feel strong and capable of handling everything on our own. We’re prideful, and keeping busy gives us a sense of accomplishment. Only in the dead quiet of night is the truth clear: Those fences only serve to keep out God and the ones we love. In the end, life wears us down. Either we have the Lord to rely on, or we fall apart.”
“I’ve known prideful Christian men.”
“I wouldn’t dream to deny that.” Paul chuckled. “We still sin, but the good news is that we’re granted forgiveness when we ask for it. Just talk to Eric. Fine Christian. Came here to Reliable wanting to serve the Lord with his doctoring. His pride sure got bruised when Polly and Lovejoy kept treating folks and delivering the babies. When he finally set aside that pride, God did a mighty work. Now he and Polly heal the sick and are expecting a miracle of their own. It wasn’t until Eric yielded that God moved in, though.”
Laurel’s father pushed off the fence. “I didn’t come here to preach. I could tell you stories all night, but in the end, each man has to wrestle with his own heart. If you want someone to pray with you or answer questions, I’m available—so are any of my brothers or Parson Abe. It’s the biggest decision any of us makes, so consider carefully. I respect that you’ve not made any pretenses or snap judgments.”
“Thank you.” Gabe stayed on the fence and watched Paul walk off. In a very sho
rt conversation, Laurel’s father had managed to say quite a bit. Gabe needed time to think things through.
He wasn’t wrong. I’ve been concentrating so much on finding a way to have Laurel be mine, I’ve ignored the root of the problem.
Laurel had urged him to read the scriptures as a means to get to know Christ. Gabe started thinking of the Gospels he’d read, and Christ’s character traits seemed like such an unlikely combination. For being such a charismatic leader, Jesus had been astonishingly humble. He’d possessed undeniable power—the miracles He wrought testified to that—but He used His abilities only to serve. Compassion and mercy flowed from Him, yet He’d also stood firm for His convictions.
Gabe trudged back toward the boys’ cabin. Lying in the dark, he couldn’t stop the confusing whirl of thoughts. Rustling made him roll over. Tobias was sitting on the edge of his own bed, leaning across the space between their bunks.
“Can’t sleep?” Gabe asked.
“Neither can you.” Tobias drummed his fingers on his knee, then said, “You left your Bible open on your bunk this morning. I wondered all day whether you did it on purpose so someone would ask if you wanted to discuss what you’d read.”
Gabe sat up. “I don’t recall leaving it open.”
Tanner grumbled from the other side of the cabin, “Take it outside. Some of us wanna get some shut-eye.”
“No pressure. Just an offer.” Tobias didn’t move at all.
Gabe shrugged into his shirt. As they exited the cabin, he noticed Tobias had grabbed the Bible.
“Barn’s probably the best place for us to go,” Tobias ventured. “We can light a lantern.”
Soon they sat on bales of hay that formed a V by the post from which a lantern hung. Tobias bowed his head. Gabe assumed he was praying, so he sat quietly. After a few moments, he flipped through the Bible, and the pages parted where Gabe had placed the ribbon that morning.
Bridal Veil Page 14
