Does she want to leave this area? Does she want riches and wealth? He shook his head as Murphy escorted her out of sight. Nick had wanted to court Beth ever since her father had brought them to the area. He’d enjoyed her enthusiasm for life and her playful nature. Even after enduring her pranks, he still found her captivating and charming.
So what should he do about it? She always put God between them. Her reply when he’d asked to court her in the past had been that she couldn’t because he wasn’t a Christian.
And lately Nick could see why. To be a true believer, as he understood it, meant to give a real commitment to change your life and live it in a way pleasing to God. It wasn’t about just saying the words; it was far more important to live the truth of what you believed. As his brother had once commented, “Anyone can say they’re saved by God from their sins, but their life ought to show that to be true. It ought to look different from the person who isn’t a man of God.”
That made sense to Nick, but he still wasn’t completely convinced that he could be an honest-to-goodness Christian. His life had been marred by bad choices. Could God forgive that? Would God even want him?
On Sunday Gallatin House was packed with people as they gathered to hold church services. Curt Flikkema, the circuit rider, was preaching, and Beth was pleased to see that Nick and Simon Lassiter were in attendance. It was the third time she’d noticed them in the services, and Beth could only hope that the preaching was affecting them both. After all, Gwen had mentioned their talking about spiritual matters with Hank. Surely that was a good sign.
She felt funny coming face-to-face with Nick again after nearly being kissed by Adrian. Amazingly enough, he had said nothing about the encounter and treated her as though it had never happened. Beth had thought to try to explain the matter, but then she couldn’t figure out why it seemed so important that he should know.
“Guilt is the result of knowing that we had a choice to make and did not make it well,” Pastor Flikkema began. “We did not choose the path we knew to be the right one.”
Beth slid down her seat a bit and nervously smoothed out the dark green material of her wool skirt.
“Folks are often overcome by guilt. One simple and seemingly innocent choice or attitude takes them down the road to destruction and before they know it, they’ve made a mess of things.”
This was far from the topic Beth had hoped to focus on. She knew she’d made poor choices during her life. Everyone had. She’d watched her mother die and felt terrible grief and guilt from not being able to stop it. Of course, Beth had been able to reason that away. She was a child. There was nothing she could have done at the age of seven. She’d blamed their father, however, for not being there.
Beth frowned and lowered her head as the pastor continued. It had been a long time since she’d thought about blaming her father for their mother’s death. She had approached him about it when she’d been a girl of thirteen. It seemed important to take him to task after he had rather casually commented that God had taken their mother and unborn sibling to heaven because He had need of them.
“We had need of her, too,” Beth had told him. “If you’d been here, she wouldn’t have died.”
Her father had studied her for a moment. “Bethy, the Lord gives and takes away. Your mother could have lived, only if the Lord so chose.”
“But if you had been here,” Beth countered, “you could have gotten her help. You could have saved them.”
“Do you suppose the good Lord didn’t know she was by herself? Do you suppose my working the far acreage was just an oversight on His part?”
His casual manner of passing the blame to God had angered her. Beth didn’t want to blame God. God was, after all, her only solace these days. No, it was her father’s fault. He hadn’t protected them as he should have, or her mother might be alive even now.
“Sometimes,” Curt’s voice boomed out, “there is a liberty and freedom in facing the truth and accepting that no one else is to blame—no one but ourselves.”
Beth straightened and folded her hands. The words pierced her heart. No one to blame but ourselves? Didn’t she already blame herself for so much? There wasn’t liberty in that. The only thing she found there was more guilt to heap upon that which she already bore.
Staring at her interlaced fingers, Beth tried her best to appear unmoved by the pastor’s words. She had so long wrestled with her guilt that she was certain no one could help her. After all, while she hated feeling the way she did, Beth couldn’t honestly say her father’s death didn’t relieve her. With Pa dead, they were free to stay in Gallatin House and run the business without fear of needing to move on in a week or a month.
It’s not that I don’t miss him, she admitted to herself, because I do. I loved Pa as much as Lacy or Gwen. If he could have been like a normal father and settled down in one place, I would have wanted him to live forever. She re-laced her fingers. Did that make her a terrible person?
How many times had she asked herself that question?
“Jesus offers to free us from our burden of guilt. He offers it through His forgiveness. See, we’re all guilty of something—some of us bear more of a burden than others, but we’ve all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, just like Romans 3:23 says in the Bible. Sin surrounds us with guilt, but it would be even worse for us if we made the wrong choice about what to do with that sin and guilt.”
Beth shifted uncomfortably. It was as if God were speaking directly to her through Pastor Flikkema. But I’ve tried to be free of the guilt. I’ve tried not to think about my horrible feelings.
She glanced to where Gwen sat smiling and nodding. No doubt her sister had learned the secret of dealing with such things. She had been obsessed with the shame of having gone to a fortune-teller just before their mother died. Gwen had blamed herself for their parents’ deaths, believing herself to be cursed. Now she sat there smiling. How was it she could so easily put aside the past, but Beth couldn’t?
Maybe because her fears weren’t real, and mine are. Gwen wasn’t really cursed, but I really am glad that there won’t be any more moves to come. She sighed and caught sight of Nick watching her. She looked away quickly and tried not to think of anything. It was just too dangerous to let her mind wander.
CHAPTER TWO
Nick straightened and let the November breeze cool his face. He’d been working for some time between the forge and anvil, pounding out an order of iron brackets for Jerry Shepard. His forearms ached from the task, and he figured it was just about time for the noon stage. With over half of the bracket order complete, Nick wiped his brow before taking off his leather apron.
“Stage is coming,” Simon announced.
Nick nodded. “I figured it was just about time.”
“You suppose Uncle Forrest will be on this one?”
“I sure hope so. Snow could cut loose any day now. I’d hate for him to get stuck elsewhere.” Nick moved toward the corral as the stage rounded the bend and the driver slowed the horses.
“He’s the best wheelwright there is, so I doubt he’d suffer much for something to do. Hey, looks like one of the lead horses is limping.” Simon moved forward to help the stage passengers alight.
“Welcome, all,” Simon said, opening the stage door as the driver climbed down.
Nick had decided to follow Simon and see about their uncle before unhitching the horses. A petite woman allowed Simon to help her from the stage.
Shielding her eyes from the sun, she said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” Simon smiled.
It took only a moment to recognize the massive man who came next. Forrest Cromwell stood six feet six in his bare feet. The giant positively dwarfed the young woman, who’d dismounted only seconds ahead of him.
“Well, you boys are sure a sight for these old eyes,” Uncle Forrest announced. He pulled Simon into a big bear hug. “Goodness, but you’re the spittin’ image of your mama.”
“Good to see you,
Uncle Forrest.”
Nick grinned when the air whooshed out of his brother’s lungs as their uncle tightened his grip. Simon gave his brother a just-you-wait-your-turn kind of look and drew a deep breath as Uncle Forrest released his grip.
“And Nicholas, just look at you. Why, the last time I saw you . . . well . . . you were hardly more than a boy.” He gave Nick a hug that nearly broke his ribs.
“Good to see you again, sir,” Nick said, using the last of his wind.
Uncle Forrest let him go rather abruptly. “I’m sure you remember your cousin Evan, and this little gal is his wife, Millie.”
Nick and Simon smiled at the woman who’d preceded Forrest out of the stage before they turned to see their cousin bounding down the steps. This was a pleasant surprise. They’d known about Forrest joining them to set up business as a wheelwright, but nothing was ever said about Evan.
“We talked it over back in Kansas. Evan thought he might do well to come west with me and continue his wagon business. Millie was willing to risk it, too, so here we all are. I hope you have room for us.”
“We’ll make room,” Simon assured him. “Evan, it’s good to have you here. Millie, it’s nice to make your acquaintance.”
“Yes, this territory needs more lovely ladies,” Nick offered.
The young woman beamed him a smile. She had seemed rather plain in appearance until doing this; now, however, Nick found her quite pretty.
Evan squeezed her shoulder. “Millie’s an adventurous sort. I wasn’t sure how she’d do on the long trip out here, but she matched us stride for stride and mile for mile. She’s something else.”
“Well, she’ll need to be to endure out here,” Simon replied. “I’m afraid you won’t find the same level of comfort you probably had in Kansas.”
“I grew up on the prairie,” Millie told him. “There wasn’t anything around us for miles. I think I’ll like it here just fine.”
Nick laughed. He noticed the driver motioning the other passengers over to Gallatin House. “I think you probably will, at that. There’s lunch for all the stage folks just across the way. It’s two bits, but the food is exceptional. You might as well go on over there and have some lunch; we’ll get the horses changed out and join you.”
Uncle Forrest gave Nick a pat on the back. “I could go for something to eat about now. Breakfast seems like days ago.”
“What about all the cookies Millie’s been feeding you on the way up here?” Evan asked.
Millie giggled. “Pa Cromwell has a bit of a sweet tooth.”
“Well, you be sure to ask the Gallatin girls for some of their pie,” Simon threw out. “They make about the best I’ve ever had.”
“Sounds good to me. We’ll look forward to you boys joining us. We want to hear all about this area.”
Nick nodded and went to work unfastening the harness buckles. With Simon’s help, they had the team changed out and the limping horse dealt with in plenty of time to join the others at lunch. The stage driver and those moving on, however, were heading out the door, even as Simon and Nick came up the steps.
“See you boys in a couple of days. Hope old Leroy’s gonna be better by then.”
“His shoe was loose and he packed a sharp stone underneath, but I think he’ll be fine. I cleaned it out. He ought to be ready for you.”
“He and Barney are the best lead team I’ve got,” the driver replied. “I’d hate to see them put to pasture, but I don’t think either one would ever work with any other horse, male or female. They’ve been together too long.”
Nick smiled. “Not to worry. I think you’ll get a few more years out of them.”
The rest of the passengers—all men—scurried past to follow the driver. Some still held food in their hands, mostly sandwiches or pieces of pie. They weren’t given a lot of time to eat, as a schedule had to be maintained.
“We waited for you,” Millie said as Simon and Nick came into the dining room. “It wasn’t easy to keep Pa Cromwell from sneaking into the kitchen, but we managed.”
“You sure didn’t need to,” Simon said, taking a seat.
“Oh, it didn’t take all that long,” Evan added. “After all, Millie was rather insistent that we all clean up first.”
Nick smiled. “Sounds like you keep these two walking a straight line.”
The petite brunette laughed. “Somebody has to. When I met Evan, he was ornerier than any other man in town. He could drink everyone under the table, and then he just got plain mean.”
“That was before I got religion,” Evan said rather apologetically.
“And before Millie got ahold of you,” Forrest said, laughing. “Millie was the local schoolmarm, and she had a way of getting overgrown boys to sit straight and toe the line. Evan might not have been one of her students, but he learned from her, just the same.”
Evan gave Millie a wink. “She made a new man of me.”
Just then Beth entered the room with a platter of venison steaks. “I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised,” she told them all. “Gwen has a way with venison that leaves your mouth watering for more.”
“It’s true,” Nick declared. He took the platter from Beth and winked. “But I happen to know that Miss Beth here also does a mighty fine job with venison stew.”
Beth blushed ever so slightly. Lacy came in before Beth could reply, however. “Hope you like squash.”
“Smells wonderful,” Forrest said, reaching for the bowl.
Gwen arrived with a plate in one hand and a bowl in the other. The plate was stacked with freshly sliced bread, and the bowl appeared to hold her baked molasses beans.
“It won’t be hard to thank God for this bounty.” Nick took a deep breath to enjoy the aroma.
“I agree,” Hank said, coming in from the kitchen.
“Good to see you, Hank. I want you to meet our uncle, For-rest Cromwell. He is our mother’s brother,” Simon announced. “Uncle Forrest, this is Hank Bishop. He’s married to Gwen.”
Forrest got to his feet and extended Hank his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you. I hear you run the local store.”
Hank nodded and smiled. “That’s right. Glad to meet you, as well. Simon and Nick tell me you plan to set up business here.”
“I do. This here is my youngest boy, Evan, and his wife, Millie. Evan is a master wagon builder. Millie will have her hands full just taking care of us.”
Hank laughed. “Evan and Millie, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Grace was offered, and everyone dug in before picking up the conversation again. Nick couldn’t help but cast a long glance at Beth. He wondered if her thoughts were about Adrian Murphy or something else. He frowned. Why did she have to have an interest in that scallywag? Anyone could see he was just toying with her affections. He was what Nick’s pa would have called an opportunist. Guys like that had a special gal in every town.
“Nick?”
He looked up, startled. “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”
Gwen laughed. “You were scowling so, I thought maybe the venison wasn’t to your liking.”
He shook his head. “No, I was just caught up in thoughts on another matter. The meal is delicious, as always.”
She smiled at this and turned to Forrest. “So will you need rooms here at Gallatin House, or will you be staying with your nephews?”
“They’re staying with us,” Simon interjected. “Just until we can get their house built.”
“It’ll be a tight squeeze,” Forrest said, “but they have generously offered it and plan to help us build our own cabin. We’re much obliged.”
“Well, if Nick and Simon snore too loud, Millie,” Beth said playfully, “you can always come join us here.”
The young woman laughed. “They could never outsnore Pa and Evan.”
Everyone chuckled at this, and the conversation drifted into comments about the community and plans for the future. Nick heard Hank comment on several new families moving into the
area, but all he could really think about was Beth. Then all at once, she was speaking and asking his opinion.
“Don’t you think it would be a lot of fun, Nick?”
Nick looked at her blankly. “What?”
“Your mind is definitely not here,” Simon commented. He popped a huge piece of steak into his mouth, giving Nick time to reply.
Beth took the conversation in hand, however. “I said I thought it would be fun to have a community Thanksgiving meal. We could have it here at Gallatin House and invite everyone in the area. Folks could bring what they wanted, and we could just enjoy each other’s company and the day. One of you men could go out and get us a nice elk or deer, or maybe we could get a pig and roast it over an open fire.”
Nick nodded. “Yes. I think that would be a nice thing to do.”
“Would we also invite Rafe and his bunch?” Gwen asked hesitantly.
Beth thought for a moment. “Well, despite my opinion of Rafe, I suppose it would be the Christian thing to do. It’d be nice for the girls and Cubby to join us.” She perked up. “I’ll ask him tomorrow after we get the breakfast dishes done.”
“Better wait until after the lunch dishes are done,” Hank said snidely. “Rafe’s not usually up until afternoon.”
“So you see,” Beth told Rafe while his son, Cubby, hovered near her on the porch, “we’d like all of you to come to dinner. You can bring any foods that you like, but it’s not necessary.”
Rafe scratched his stubbly chin. “I thought I wasn’t welcome anymore at Gallatin House.”
Beth stared at him hard. “We hope to forget our grievances with each other for the day and come together to celebrate our blessings.”
“That’s mighty good of you, Miss Beth,” he said with a chuckle.
“What are you going to have to eat?” Cubby asked, practically licking his lips.
A Love to Last Forever Page 2
