“Hello, Becca.”
“Henry? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Your boyfriend sends his regards.”
She didn’t have to ask who he was referring to. Only one person outside of Bend knew where she was. “Greg?” she whispered. “But he promised he wouldn’t”
Henry laughed dryly as he stalked her into the house. “Oh he didn’t know. He was too high in the clouds to care about his tongue. He bragged he was falling for you. I took your information off his phone.”
“Please,” Becca begged. “Please just leave. There’s nothing going on between me and Greg. I’ve never done anything to you.”
But Henry was too fast for her. He advanced on her and struck her cheek. Becca fell against the side table in the living room with a cry of pain. Henry grabbed her hair.
“Get up, Becca” he said, “I am not done with you yet.”
“Yes, you are” a new voice interjected.
Henry whipped around, pulling Becca by the hair with him, even as she whimpered with pain.
“You!” Henry stared in shock at Greg. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you this morning. When I woke up and checked my phone, I saw that I had sent a message to you last night. Only, I know that I didn’t. You sent a message to yourself with Becca’s information. I knew you were coming after her so I followed you. Let her go, you’ve done enough damage.”
But Henry wasn’t done yet. His face mottled in rage as Greg spoke. From his pocket he pulled out a gun and pointed it at Greg. “You are not going to get her. You’ll die first.”
“I don’t think you want to do that, Son” someone said from behind Greg.
“Who said that?” Henry demanded.
“Police,” said the man who was now stepping over the threshold next to Greg with his weapon drawn. “Put the gun down, son, nice and slow.”
But Henry just stared at the man with his mouth agape. Greg took advantage of his distraction to rush him. But Henry snapped back to attention when he saw the movement and fired his gun. Greg dodged to the side and felt the bullet whiz past him. At the same time he heard another shot go off and he watched Becca fall.
“No!” he cried and dove to catch her.
Greg checked Becca for wounds and discovered none but she was paralyzed with shock. He looked behind her and saw Henry lying in a pool of blood, the gun useless by his side. He realized that the policeman had shot Henry in the shoulder of his gun arm to disarm him and was now radioing for an ambulance.
Greg gathered Becca in his arms and rocked her against his chest. Esther and Jeb came rushing in to see what the commotion was about. The police took them outside, leading a cuffed Henry, and explained what had happened as he placed Henry in the cruiser.
Esther came back in and clucked over Becca like a mother hen. She quickly made some tea and pushed it into the girl’s hands. Greg looked around the room and his eyes fell on the pool of blood that was still staining the hardwood floors, He got up and made room for Esther to comfort Becca while he found the officer and was granted permission to clean up the blood spill.
He explained to Esther that he was going to clean the floor and asked her to look after Becca. The elderly lady called her husband and together they walked Becca over to their house. Greg went to the Joe’s and bought some cleaning supplies; he didn’t want to use Becca’s because he didn’t want anything in her house to remind her of the trauma of the morning. He planned to throw away whatever supplies he used that day.
When he got back to Becca’s house, he scrubbed the floors till they were clean and polished them. Then he set the furniture aright and washed the dishes. By the time he finished, Becca had returned.
He greeted her with a warm and concerned smile. “Are you alright?”
She nodded but remained stiff when he tried to hug her.
“What wrong, Becca?”
“You told me that you would never tell anyone where I was but you got so high last night that Henry knew you had found me and was able to locate me himself through you. I am sorry Greg, but I can’t do this.”
“Becca,” Greg whispered. “Becca don’t do this. I am falling in love with you and I think I have always been in love with you.”
“Don’t Greg. I can’t fall in love with you, not when you willingly allow yourself to be ruled by drugs and alcohol. If you want me as someone more than a friend, then you have got to give it up somehow. Please leave now. I would like to be alone.”
She didn’t give him an opportunity to respond, Becca just went to her room and shut the door.
Greg stared at that door for a long time before he walked out of the house. Becca was right. He knew what he had to do.
***
A Little over One Year Later
The stadium roared to life as the football sailed into the air. Both sides cheered their team on in the rush to capture the ball. The Chief’s fans groaned when the Bronco’s wide receiver caught the pass. Becca Fields was on her feet jumping up and down, screaming her head off as she cheered Billy Gail, the rookie, towards the goal. The crowd went wild when he scored the touchdown and the final whistle was blown. The game had been tough. Neither side had scored against the other all through the match until Billy ran the pass. He would be the man of the hour tonight.
Becca clambered down the bleachers as fast as her rounded stomach could take her and waddled over to the sidelines to await her husband. Greg came over to her and picked her up and swung her around before kissing her soundly in front of his team, the coaches and the fans watching on site and from their couches. She smiled contently when Greg set her back down on the ground and whispered her congratulations to him.
Greg was a changed man. After the incident with Henry, Greg had checked himself into a Christian rehab facility. Their program was a six months long. The first two months were intensive therapy and counseling. In the last four months the people were released into the “real world” with their mentors so they could face their challenges head on. Greg had placed his trust and faith in Jesus Christ in those first months. When he got out, he contacted Becca and explained that he was on “parole” so to speak for the next four months but he would love to see her as he adjusted to a new life as a Christian man and made every effort to leave his past behind.
Becca was ecstatic that Greg had accepted the Lord and she flew out to see him every weekend in Denver where he trained, and later to his games. They had grown irrepressibly closer as the time passed and their faiths had deepened as they trusted in the Lord and their love for each other had grown and matured. The love was now founded deep in Jesus Christ on both sides and as they grew closer to the Lord in their personal walks, they grew closer to each other. On the last day of his therapy, Greg proposed to Becca, she accepted and they were married within the month. Three months later, they discovered that they were going to be parents. Now, four months in, both were excited to finally find out the gender of their firstborn.
Henry Miller, in the meantime, had been tried and found guilty of harassment, assault and attempted murder and was now serving his very long sentence in jail without hope of parole. Greg’s family had attempted to contest the living will without success for several months but were now quiet. Becca had re-united with her family but she and Greg decided to settle in Bend.
That night, as Becca reflected on all that had happened in their lives in the past year, all she could say was, “Thank you, Lord. You have been so good. So faithful. Thank you, Lord, I can’t ask for more.” Greg came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her neck and gazed up at the night sky. They both chuckled in amusement when they felt their little boy kick their joined hands from within his mother’s womb. “I think we have another football player in the family, Honey.” Greg whispered as he kissed his wife again.
*****
THE END.
A Cowboy’s Widow
Mail Order Bride
By: Christian Michael
Edna sat stiffly at the edge of the bed, her body stiff and her mind awash with indecision. She looked at the newspaper again. Her eyes did not take in the words, though they were imprinted in her brain.
I’m a widower and a rancher from California and I seek the acquaintance of a hardworking lady, with the aim of furthering our friendship to matrimony. I seek a simple and honest lady, who wishes to build a peaceful and quiet life out here in California.
Surely, a widower would understand what she herself had gone through after the death of her Samuel. Sounds of pounding from below interrupted her musings, further reminding her of the need to get away and start a new life elsewhere. Her eyes roamed the small room that she and Samuel had shared for a year. It was small and scarcely furnished, but one thing that they had had, was plenty of love.
How things could have changed in such a short time, Edna thought, a sob involuntarily escaping her lips. She capped her hand over her mouth, not wanting Dr. Anderson to come up the stairs to inquire what the problem was. It was bad enough that she was such a burden to him, relying on him for food and a place to live. It was only a matter of time, Edna knew, before he got a new apprentice who would need the room.
Two months ago, she had a husband with bright prospects for the future as a doctor’s apprentice. They had stayed up late in their small bed, making plans for the future. Samuel had been ambitious with plans of opening up his own surgery clinic. They would have their home above the clinic, and Edna could help out with the records, when she was not busy with the children.
At the reminder of the children, Edna let out another muffled sob. Her hands went to her stomach, unmistakably swollen, but not yet visible to other people. There really was no decision to make, Edna thought. She could not have a child here, with no money and no place to live. If she waited a moment longer, her stomach would keep swelling and her chances for a remarriage would dwindle.
She blew hard into a handkerchief, and pulled the small wooden table towards her. The pen was in her hand and the white paper ready, but Edna’s brain would not formulate the necessary words. She had so much to worry about, if only she had someone to talk to. Edna had no friends and no family. The girls she had grown up with at the poor children’s home had gone on and forged lives of their own and most did not want reminders of their past by keeping in touch.
To be honest, neither did Edna. Her existence at the home had consisted of working from dawn to dusk, with two hours of study. Her situation now reminded her of her last year at the poor house. At eighteen, she had been considered an adult and had been given four months to move out, as the home was bursting with young children.
Samuel had come in with Dr. Anderson to see to a sick child. They had taken to each other immediately and their courtship had been fast and within two months, they had married. Edna now felt as though she would find herself in the streets if she did not take matters into her own hands. She had survived the home and she would survive this too. She read the advert, her eyes drawn by the word ‘widower’.
The man was probably lonesome for his wife and just wanted companionship. Edna could give him that and whatever else he wanted, except for one thing—her heart. The night Samuel succumbed to the fever; her heart had gone off with him. In its place was an emptiness that could never be filled by anyone.
She thought of the child growing in her stomach. A child born of the love she and Samuel had shared. Edna vowed to do everything in her power to ensure that he had a decent upbringing. And if that meant responding to a mail order advert, then that was what she would do.
Dear Sir,
Allow me to offer you my condolences on the loss of your wife. I understand some of what you’re going through, as I too lost my husband to the fever not too long ago. Perhaps we can be of comfort to each other, knowing what each has gone through. I’m twenty years old and of a slim build and medium height. I’m of a kind disposition and no stranger to hard work as I grew up in a children’s poor house.
All I search for is a good man to make a home with and have a family with. I haven’t lived on a ranch, I’m afraid, but I’d be eager to learn all that I need to so as to make a useful contribution to the home. I’ll stop there and hope to hear from you soon.
Sincerely,
Edna Cane
Somehow the letter seemed insufficient, but no matter how much Edna thought, she could not come up with more. The one glaring omission she had deliberately made, haunted her even as she snuggled between the blankets trying to get warm. She knew it was a sin to lie to someone, yet she had knowingly lied to the rancher by not telling him everything about herself.
What if things between them progressed and he invited her to California, what would she do then, Edna asked herself. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She would deal with it when the time came. She knew if she told him that she was heavy with child, he would be unlikely to be interested in her, after all, there were hundreds of young women, eager to get married, who had no children.
She felt her eyes grow heavy, something new to her, but since she had realized that she was expecting a child, she tired more easily.
***
Marcus sweated buckets even though it was early morning. The stove warmed up the kitchen but it was not the heat that made him hot. Rather, it was the effort of trying to cook edible pancakes for the children that got him uncomfortable. He turned over the four pancakes cooking on the griddle and clicked in annoyance.
They were charred even though he had made sure not to leave them on the fire for too long. When the other side was done, he put each on a plate and laid them on the table.
‘They are not too good today either.’ Marcus said.
Victoria stared at him solemnly with her small brown eyes, while Patrick shrugged.
‘It’s alright, mama wasn’t that much good at making pancakes either.’ He said.
Marcus smiled wearily and joined them on the kitchen table for breakfast. He munched on the burnt pancake. He had so much to do on the farm, but since the children arrived, he was not able to plan himself properly. The fencing, down by the stream, needed repairing and some of the posts on the northern pasture were rotten.
He looked at the children and contemplated leaving them at home. He dismissed that thought as quickly as it had come. He had left them alone for a few hours a couple of weeks previously and when he returned, they were nowhere to be found. His heart in his abdomen, he had searched for them in the barn, the chicken shed and anywhere he could think of that children would go.
They had returned home half an hour later. Marcus had almost wept with relief on seeing them. Patrick told him that they had gone to explore and Marcus’s insides had tightened at the thought of the harm that would have befallen them. There were the bulls that Marcus kept in a small pasture enclosed by barbed wire. The children could have easily gone in there and gotten trampled by the bad tempered bulls.
His mind returned to the letter he had sent to a Ms. Edna Cane. He mulled over his decision to invite her to California. Marcus had wasted no time. As soon as he read her letter, he had decided that she was the right person for him. He knew that even though she had accepted his proposal, he still had a lot of explaining to do.
For one he had not mentioned the children. How did you tell someone by letter that the children were not yours but were your former wife’s? It was not Marcus’s first experience with getting a bride through advertising for one. He had done so exactly a year ago. He hoped that this would be his last time and maybe this time, he would be luckier.
The children finished their breakfast and Marcus cleared the dishes away and rinsed them by the wooden sink.
‘Get your coats; we’ll go together to the farm.’ Marcus said.
He tried to soften his voice as he had realized when he spoke in his normal speaking voice, he sounded curt and he had observed the expressions of fear in the children. Marcus knew nothing about children or how to raise them. He needed a wife urgently who would take over the c
are of Patrick and Victoria.
He waited for them by the kitchen door and when they returned wearing coats which were too small for them, he sighed deeply. They needed clothes and Marcus had no idea how to go about getting clothes for them. Folks around Fairview town bought materials and sewed their own clothes. Marcus himself knew that he needed a few trousers but his could wait.
He closed the door behind him and together they walked towards the farm. He checked on the chicken, saw that they had enough ground corn and water and continued through the path between the grass. Had he been alone, he would have saddled a horse, but with the two children, he found it easier to walk.
The first time he had gotten them atop a horse, Victoria had yelled as though her life was in danger and he had quickly put her down. Patrick had looked forward to the ride and Marcus had promised to teach him how to ride when the right time came.
They were both too quiet from the little Marcus knew about children, but he understood them. They had had a lot to deal with in the last few months. Marcus realized too late that they had taken the path that led them past the grave. Patrick and Victoria stopped, held hands and looked at the mound of soil with a wooden cross planted in the middle.
‘I miss mama.’ Victoria sniffed.
Patrick held her closer, and it broke Marcus heart to see the seven year old boy trying to fight the tears that had filled his eyes. Their mother had passed on a month after they arrived at the ranch. He still couldn’t come to terms how a woman like Louisa had borne such soft spoken and well behaved children like Patrick and Victoria.
The moment he had laid eyes on her at the train depot, he had known he was in for some trouble. For one, she had the two children, whom she had not mentioned in her letters. Secondly, she had worn daring clothes that revealed parts of her white skin, which decent women did not dare do.
She was a talkative woman and she grated his nerves with her constant chatter, but being a man of his word, Marcus married her on the day of their arrival. The month s they had lived together had been the most trying of his life. She spent money like it was grown on trees and her cooking was nothing to write home about, if she did cook. Louisa had liked to go into town, with one excuse after another. Marcus had no problem with that, if only she had been purchasing things that helped with the house.
[2015] A Love Miracle Page 6
