by Judith Pella
They had strolled for about half a mile when Deborah saw Sky and Carolyn off in the distance riding their horses. She briefly reflected that not too long ago such a scene could not have been possible because of the trouble with the Comanche. But what really struck Deborah as she watched the two young people race across a length of flat pasture was how like herself and Graham they were becoming. So remote from their neighbors out here on the frontier, there were few other children for them to play with, so they had been forced to nurture a closeness to each other that might otherwise not have happened. They would be better for it, as Deborah now knew she was.
“Those two sure can ride,” Sam commented as he noted the focus of Deborah’s attention.
“It’s a matter of survival out here.”
“You’ve done a good job with them, Deborah.”
“I suppose I have made my share of mistakes. Carolyn can be mighty headstrong when she wants to be, but all in all, I really can’t complain. I do enjoy them. They are growing up fast, though.”
“Kids have a way of doing that. Blink once, and poof! They’re all grown with kids of their own.”
“Oh, please, not that fast!” laughed Deborah. “But you are right. Soon they’ll be off on their own.”
“What’ll you do then, Deborah?”
“I haven’t thought much about it. Thanks to the Lord, I am fairly content with the way my life has turned out. I love the ranch, and I certainly have the independence I have always wanted. But, to tell you the truth, Sam, it isn’t always enough. There are still some empty places left in my heart that need filling.”
“God is able to fill them.”
“Yes, I know that. But I think that if He doesn’t fill them directly, He often sends us people that do some of the filling, as He has done with my children, or as He sometimes does by sending a husband or a wife.”
Sam stopped suddenly as she spoke. He was so astounded at her remark that he could barely force out his own response. It came in a kind of gasp. “You ain’t saying you might be considering marriage, are you, Deborah?”
“You know well enough how I have felt in the past about that,” said Deborah.
“You’ve been afraid to risk loving someone because of all its potential for pain.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, Deborah, maybe you could marry for friendship and companionship and forget all about this love business?” He knew it was a foolish idea, even if it were possible. No one, especially someone as sensitive and compassionate as Deborah, could so detach herself from a relationship. But he hoped his comment would make the path easier for him, if not for her.
“Aw, Deborah!” he threw up his hands in frustration. “It’s no use trying to be subtle. I’ll just tell you right out that I’d be pleased to be your companion in life. I haven’t changed from how I felt in Dodge. In fact, I suppose I’ve felt that way from when I first set eyes on you in Griff’s hideout. I couldn’t get you out of my mind after that; and when I saw you in Black Kettle’s village, I was awfully confused, though I was happy for you, too, and glad you’d found yourself a good man. Then there was Dodge. And when you went to Texas, I had to stay where I was. I guess the timing was never right for us—except I have to remind myself that we are part of God’s timing, so it must’ve been right. Anyway, here we are now and I’m making a fool of myself again, but I just have to say these things because I think that’s a big part of why I’ve come to Texas.”
He paused and took a deep breath, hoping all the while that she would break in on his babbling. But she didn’t, and so he went on, for good or ill. “What I’m trying to say, though not very well, is that after all these years, I’d be satisfied to be your companion. I suppose, in a way, it’s what I’ve been these last few months, anyway—only, if we got married, I wouldn’t have to go home at night.”
“Would that really be enough for you, Sam?”
He gazed deeply into her eyes. He wanted nothing more than for her to love him in the same way he loved her, and part of him believed that she did love him, even if she was afraid to admit it. Yet he believed he could be happy with her even if the words of love were never spoken between them. He wanted to believe it anyway.
But before he could respond, Deborah spoke. “Oh, Sam! I am the fool. I don’t even know why I asked you that question, except that I’m still trying to protect myself, even though I know it’s not necessary. You see, Sam, it doesn’t have to be enough.”
Sam’s bushy red eyebrows shot up. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it would be impossible for me to marry you just for companionship—at this point, that is. What I mean is … it’s too late for that. I love you, Sam!”
“You ain’t just saying that, are you, Deborah?”
Deborah smiled. “Do you think after all these years, I’d say it if I didn’t mean it?”
Sam threw back his head and laughed out loud. Then he scooped Deborah up in his arms and swung her around, dancing joyously in the tall prairie grass.
“Praise the Lord!” he sang. “I knew it!”
“Then why were you sweating so?” laughed Deborah.
“Well … maybe my faith did weaken there for a minute.”
Deborah grew solemn. “I’ve wasted so many years with my fear,” she said. “I was so afraid of losing you that I might have lost you, anyway, because I was too afraid to admit my feelings.”
“What changed you? Or, I should say, how did God change you?”
“It happened just a couple of hours ago, really,” said Deborah. “I was reading my Bible when a verse simply jumped off the page at me. I must have read that verse many times before; but today I really read it, I suppose, because it did something special inside me this time. It changed me.”
“And what verse was it?”
“The one in First John that says, ‘There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.’ I had the feeling as I read it that it had been written for me alone.”
“It was, dear Deborah…. It was!”
Sam bent toward Deborah’s upturned face. His lips met hers, and his arms enfolded her in a fervent embrace. Deborah sensed as he held her that this great risk she had feared for so long was no risk at all; rather, she was now more secure than she had been in a very long time. And this was a security that came not from independence or self-sufficiency but from knowing her path was within the will of her Lord.
JUDITH PELLA has been writing for the inspirational market for more than twenty years and is the author of more than thirty novels, most in the historical fiction genre. Her degrees in teaching and nursing lend depth to her tales, which span a variety or settings. Judy and her husband make their home in Oregon.
VISIT JUDITH’S WEB SITE:
www.judithpella.com
Books by
Judith Pella
The Stonewycke Trilogy[*]
Texas Angel (2 in 1)
PATCHWORK CIRCLE
Bachelor’s Puzzle
Sister’s Choice
RIBBONS OF STEEL[**]
Distant Dreams
A Hope Beyond
A Promise for Tomorrow
RIBBONS WEST[**]
Westward the Dream
LONE STAR LEGACY
Frontier Lady
Stoner’s Crossing
*with Michael Phillips **with Tracie Peterson
