The Cowboy Comes Home

by Linda Ford

  Mother shook her head. “Maybe I’m of little faith. I want to see you married to a man who can take care of you.”

  “I thought I wanted that, too. But it isn’t enough. And it’s putting my faith in the wrong place.”

  “Are you—?” Mother swallowed hard. “Are you thinking of marrying Linc?”

  The question burned through her like a fire-tipped arrow. “I’m not sure that’s a possibility.” She’d abandoned him. She’d dismissed him. Why would he give her another chance? “His father died today. I saw the doctor and undertaker go into the house.”

  “I am sorry.”

  Sally heard a “but” in her voice and got to her feet before Mother could put it in words. “I’ll tell Abe tomorrow I can’t marry him, and I’ll offer to continue as his housekeeper until he finds a replacement.”

  “I’m sure he won’t have any problem finding someone else.”

  “Exactly.” And if she could so easily be replaced, then he should do it. She wanted a relationship where a man thought she was irreplaceable.

  The next morning she took a cake and a covered dish with her when she went to the Finleys’. She would take them across the alley as soon as she got a chance.

  Abe stepped into the kitchen, looking as fine and polished as ever.

  She faced him bravely. “Don’t call the children yet. There is something I must tell you.”

  His look was impatient. But he didn’t ask what was so important that it couldn’t wait until a more convenient time. More convenient for him. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  “Abe, I’ve changed my mind. I’m afraid I can’t marry you.” She rushed on, ignoring the disbelief in his eyes. “It wouldn’t be fair. I love your children.” It was the one thing that gave her pause. “I admire you. But I would be marrying you for all the wrong reasons.”

  “I can offer you a good home.”

  “I know. And there was a time when that and your position in the church and community were enough. Or at least I thought they were. I will continue to look after the children until you find a replacement. If that suits you.”

  “Fine.” He plunked down, then remembered he hadn’t called the children and got up again to go to the bottom of the stairs and call them. He returned and stood behind his chair. “A cousin of my late wife’s has offered to come. I’ll let her know I accept her offer.” He sat.

  It was over as easy as that. No regrets.

  Except for the children. She waited until Abe left to tell them.

  “You going to marry Linc?” Carol demanded.

  “I don’t know. I think he will be leaving.”

  “You could go with him. I would.”

  Robbie was far more practical. “Who’s going to look after us?”

  “Your father said he had someone in mind.”

  “Good.” But she caught a glimpse of hurt in his face before he scowled at her.

  “Robbie, I hope we can still be friends. Maybe you can come out to visit, and I’ll take you to the loft where I used to build a fort. Remember me telling you that?”

  He managed a nod but his expression remained as defiant as he could make it, as if afraid he would cry if he didn’t make himself angry.

  She understood his hurt. The boy longed for safety and security as much as she did. Knowing they needed to learn the same lesson she’d been so slow to learn, she sorted through the Bible story cards until she found the one about Abraham and read it. “Abraham trusted God, and God took care of him. Your mama trusted God. She wanted you to, as well.” She looked from one child to the other. “I’m learning that same thing.”

  Carol nodded. “I’ll try to remember what Mama taught. And you.”

  Robbie looked thoughtful, though he tried to hide it.

  Carol hugged her before she left for school. “I wanted you for a mother, but you love Linc and should be with him.”

  Sally laughed. “How is it everyone but me saw what I needed?”

  Carol gave a shy smile. “Linc loves you, too. I saw that.”

  “You are a very astute little girl.” She hugged Carol one more time, loath to let her go. She’d miss these children more than anyone would guess possible.

  Later, she took the food over to the house across the alley. Mrs. Shaw opened the door. “Why thank you, my dear.”

  Sally glanced past her.

  “I’m afraid Linc is not here. He had to see to the grave digging. We’re burying Jonah tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry. Please relay my condolences to Linc.”

  “Of course.”

  Sally left. Restless, she took Robbie to the store to pick up supplies for supper. A gaggle of women watched her as she entered the store.

  Mrs. Brennan poked her head forward like a curious turkey. “I understand you were friends with that McCoy man.”

  Sally smiled and nodded. She was not going to give these gossips anything to titter about.

  Miss Carter nudged Mrs. Brennan. “Don’t expect there will be many folks at the funeral. Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.”

  “How charitable of you,” Sally murmured.

  “I hope that young McCoy plans to leave. Our town doesn’t need the likes of him around. The Mountie says he is satisfied the boy had nothing to do with stealing from Mrs. Ogilvy, but it’s not easy to pull the wool over my eyes.”

  Sally felt like she’d had a sheet over her eyes for years, and now it was gone and she could see clearly for the first time. “I’ll be at the funeral.”

  At least three of the ladies gasped, as if the idea was beyond comprehension.

  “You have claimed to be Mrs. Shaw’s friend for years. Shouldn’t you be there to show her support, if nothing else?”

  The women gaped at her. Quiet, compliant Sally, they seemed to say, speaking out like this?

  “I’ll be there, too.”

  Sally spun about to face Mrs. Ogilvy, who smiled at Sally then steamed by to confront the other women. “I’m convinced Linc McCoy is innocent of any wrongdoing. He’s done his utmost to make things right. He’s endured the scorn of this town to stay at his father’s side until he died. In my view, that makes Linc McCoy an honorable man. I’m proud to know him.”

  The women looked uncomfortable. A couple of them would have sidled away, but Mrs. Ogilvy stopped them in their tracks.

  “I’m not done. I will remind you of something our Lord said. ‘He who is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone.’” Then she regally sailed past and ordered her supplies.

  The women were suddenly in a great hurry to leave.

  Sally went to the counter to conduct her business. Mrs. Ogilvy turned to her. “You’re the young woman who is planning to marry Abe Finley, aren’t you?”

  “I was. I’ve since reconsidered it. Our engagement is off.”

  “I see.”

  The way she continued to study Sally made Sally wonder what she saw. Something more than the announcement that she wasn’t marrying Abe.

  “Is there a particular reason? Or perhaps another man you find you care for more?”

  “I realized my reasons for such a marriage were all wrong. Seeking security. Afraid of love.”

  Mrs. Ogilvy chuckled as she patted Sally’s hand. “My dear, never be afraid of love. Any more than you would any great adventure.”

  Sally recalled Linc’s words about Claude. How he was ready for adventure but a little fearful, or something to that effect. It perfectly described Sally. But no more. If love was an adventure, she was ready for it.

  She only hoped she hadn’t waited too long.

  That evening, after supper—which was strained with vibrant disapproval from Abe—she broached the subject of the funeral. “I’m going. I wondered if you would allow the children to attend. It might be nice for them to let Linc know they care about his loss.”

  Abe looked ready to refuse permission.

  Carol had tiptoed into the doorway and overheard Sally’s request. “I’d really like to go. I re
member how good it felt to see how others cared when Mommy died.”

  Abe studied his young daughter. “Robbie, are you there?”

  Robbie popped around the corner, and Sally knew he’d listened to the whole conversation.

  “What do you want to do?” Abe asked his son.

  Robbie hung his head and mumbled, “I might like to go and say goodbye.”

  “Very well then. You may take them. But don’t linger about afterward.”

  Sally thanked Abe, but her gaze returned to Robbie. Who did he want to say goodbye to? He’d never met Linc’s father. He must want to say goodbye to Linc.

  And she wanted to say hello.

  She prayed she would get a chance.

  The next day she dressed the children in their Sunday best, changed into a black dress she seldom wore because it reminded her of her father’s death, and they went to the church.

  The gossips in the store were right. Very few people attended the funeral. Linc and his grandmother were in the front row. Farther back sat several older ladies, friends of Mrs. Shaw’s. Mrs. Ogilvy marched in and went to the pew directly behind Mrs. Shaw.

  Linc’s grandmother turned, saw the other woman and nodded her appreciation.

  Linc turned, too. Sally saw his start of surprise and his mouthed, “Thank you.” Then his gaze continued on to Sally and the children. He let his gaze slide past her.

  The pain slicing her heart had less to do with Linc’s loss than her own disappointment at the way he ignored her. But then, what did she expect? He didn’t know she’d broken it off with Abe and, honorable man that he was, he would never allow himself to seek comfort from a woman engaged to another, even in this dark hour of his loss.

  The service was short. Then they followed the casket to the cemetery. Only Linc and his grandmother stood close to the grave. Out of respect, the others remained a few feet away.

  The casket was lowered into the ground, then the few who weren’t family members marched by and squeezed Linc’s hand and his grandmother’s.

  Suddenly Sally was face to face with Linc. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

  His expression was hard as granite. “Thank you.”

  She had planned to ask if they could talk later, but his sternness robbed her of all thought.

  He turned to the children, effectively dismissing her, and hugged each of them. “Thank you for coming.”

  Carol clung to him, sobbing. “Are you going to leave now?”

  “Soon.” He straightened and avoided looking at Sally.

  She hugged Mrs. Shaw, offered her condolences and hurried home. The children seemed relieved to have seen Linc and spoken to him.

  Only Sally struggled to hold back tears.

  He was leaving soon. Would he give her a chance to tell him she no longer planned to marry Abe?

  Would it matter to him any longer?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Numb from head to toe, Linc led his grandmother home. It was over. He tried to find relief in knowing his father’s suffering had ended. He tried to console himself with the knowledge Pa had gone to Heaven.

  But he simply felt empty.

  Grandmama sank to a chair and sighed, a sound so heavy it seemed to scrape the floor. “I could use some tea.”

  Linc, welcoming a reason to do something, filled the kettle and put it on to boil. Then he sat down and stared at the tabletop.

  “What now?” Grandmama asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I realize you haven’t had time to deal with your father’s death, but are you planning to leave soon?”

  “I figure I can join up with some ranch.”

  “Pardon me if I say you don’t sound enthusiastic.”

  “I don’t feel anything.” The kettle boiled. He made the tea, waited for it to steep and poured a cup.

  “Aren’t you having any?”

  Linc shook his head. “I think I’ll go for a ride and clear my head.”

  “Linc, there is something I want to say. Now is probably not the best time, but I want you to think about it. I’ve already made it clear I want you to stay and take over this place. But it’s more than that. Linc, I’m getting old. I don’t want to be alone. I need you here.”

  She’d said it before, but never so clearly expressing both her want and her need for him to stay. “Grandmama, I don’t know if I can stay.” The idea of seeing Sally married to the man across the alley was more than he could deal with right now. Perhaps he’d never be able to deal with it.

  “Linc, I wish you’d reconsider. If not for me, then for that Morgan girl.”

  “She’s going to marry Abe.”

  “Does she love him?”

  Linc shrugged. What did it matter? She was willing to sacrifice love for her idea of security. Maybe he couldn’t blame her. There were times he longed for the things she wanted. The difference was, he didn’t see any chance of getting them here. He looked about the room, realizing how much he loved this place. Too bad it was tainted with the misdeeds of the McCoys.

  “Like I said before and will say again in the hopes of persuading you to reconsider leaving, you could stay and prove the McCoys are good people.”

  “I’m not sure anyone would ever believe it.”

  “Eventually they would. Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

  “Okay.” He left then and rode Red long and hard.

  He passed Judd and Madge’s place without sparing it a glance. He approached the Morgan farm. Steeled himself to keep his face forward and look neither to the left nor the right.

  Soon the orphanage was ahead of him. He heard the laughter of one of the children, but rode on. Every place he passed was full of memories of Sally and the times they’d enjoyed together

  Six years ago he’d said goodbye to this place, even though he’d wanted Pa to stay and prove their innocence. Small wonder he didn’t agree to. Hard to prove a lie.

  Now Linc was leaving again.

  Running away again.

  Now where did that come from? He wasn’t running from anything.

  Except people’s judgment. And Sally. Acknowledging he would be running from Sally made him lean over the saddlehorn and groan.

  He pulled Red to a halt and led him up a small hill, where he sat and stared at the drought-ravaged countryside.

  The drought would eventually end. Those who managed to hang on would be glad they had stayed through the tough times. They would have their land and homes still.

  The thought tangled with something Grandmama had said about staying. Stay and prove the McCoys were good people. Stay and fight for Sally.

  Like those who stayed and fought for their land through the present trials.

  Of course, they had no assurance when the drought would end. Could they even know for certain it would? Could he have any hope his circumstances would change? Did it matter? Or was faith enough?

  He’d taken to reading his Bible every night, feeling a connection to Sally as he did so, but also something deeper, more secure, more necessary—a connection to God. Out of curiosity about what those books at the end of the Old Testament with the funny names were about, he’d read several. Some of the verses were like songs of faith.

  They listed a number of disasters—drought and failed crops—then concluded by saying, “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation. The Lord God is my strength, and He will make my feet like hinds’ feet, and He will make me to walk upon mine high places.”

  The verses filled him with fresh hope and strength.

  Should he stay and fight for his name? For Sally? What if he stayed and nothing changed? What if people still accused him of stealing? And Sally married Abe?

  If it didn’t turn out the way he wanted, it wouldn’t change God’s love for him. Nor God’s promise to give him the strength to go forward.

  And at least he would have tried.

  He bowed his head and prayed, asking God for wisdom and strength to do what he should, asking
for God to intervene so things would turn out the way Linc wanted, but if they didn’t, he asked for faith and trust to go on without bitterness.

  Peace colored his thoughts, and he remained on the hillside for a long time, simply breathing in contentment.

  Dusk had spread its skirts across the sky when he made his way back to town. Grandmama burst out crying as he strode into the house, and he rushed to her side. “What’s wrong?”

  “I thought you might have gone without saying goodbye.”

  “I’m not going.”

  She stopped crying immediately and wiped her eyes. “Did I hear you correctly?”

  He told her what he’d decided and why. Before he finished, she squeezed his hands and smiled widely.

  “Good for you.”

  The next morning Linc wakened and bolted to his feet. Then he remembered he didn’t have to check on Pa and sank to the edge of the bed. It would take time to accept that his father was gone. Not that he wished him back. But he missed Pa and Harris. He missed his mother.

  However, the future beckoned and he again sprang from his bed.

  Today he would find a job to tide him over until the farm could be brought back into production.

  Finding a job turned out to be a challenge, just as it had before Abe offered him a chance. But after two days he saw a small sign in the window of the hotel. Handyman wanted. He strode inside and said he’d like the job.

  The manager looked him up and down. “What do you have to recommend yourself?”

  “I’m a hard worker, and I’m hungry.”

  The man laughed. “I need someone to make repairs on the building, do some painting, wash the windows, keep the floors clean. Can you do that?”

  “I can do it so good you’ll never have a complaint.”

  “Pay isn’t much.”

  “Don’t expect much. Just enough to keep me and my grandmother fed.” And maybe save a little to restock the farm. But he wasn’t going to worry about that. He would trust God for the future. Right now he wanted a job for more than the money it would bring. He wanted…needed…to make himself visible. Prove to the good townspeople of Golden Prairie that the McCoys could be trusted.