Ransom of Love

by Al Lacy

  Tracie began her work, her heart burdened for Leah. But something else bothered her. She couldn’t get the Texas rancher’s letter off her mind. At closing time, Leah left the office, bidding Tracie good night and saying she would see her in the morning.

  Tracie finished a letter she was writing for one of the officers of the company, sealed it in an envelope, and laid it in the mail basket to go out the next day. Rising from her desk, she sat down in Leah’s chair and foraged through the papers in the waste basket until she found the envelope postmarked San Antonio, Texas, with the name Dan Johnson in the upper left-hand corner.

  Tracie sat with the other boarders at the supper table, attempting to eat her meal, but her mind was on the letter in her purse, which she had not yet read.

  While conversation at the table went on around her, Tracie thought about Dan Johnson and his desire for a mail order bride. The marvelous thing was that the prospective bride had to be a young woman who was truly born again.

  “… don’t you think so, Tracie?” a female voice said.

  Tracie looked up to see everyone looking at her and realized it was the landlady, Maude Foster, who had addressed her.

  “What was that, Maude?” she asked.

  “We were discussing Madison’s new mayor. I said he’s doing a good job, don’t you think so?”

  “Oh. Ah … yes. I’m sorry. I had my mind on something.”

  As soon as dessert was over, Tracie excused herself and hurried from the dining room.

  The others at the table looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

  “You need to remember that Tracie is still grieving over the loss of the young man she was to marry,” Maude said in a low voice. “He’s been dead for almost a year, but she must have loved him dearly. Maybe she’s had a hard day, too, in addition to her grief.”

  When Tracie had entered her room and closed the door, she took the envelope from her purse and sat down in a chair close to the open window. While the breeze did its best to cool her hot cheeks, she took out the letter and read it.

  A smile curved her lips. She found this Dan Johnson quite interesting, noting that he was very kind and tactful in his reply to Leah, and explained to her from the Word of God how to be saved. Not only was he a Christian gentleman, but his handwriting captivated her. She could tell he was totally masculine but different from most rugged men. He wrote quite clearly, and his signature was intriguing.

  Shaking her head in wonderment, she said, “Mr. Dan Johnson, I like you.”

  By the light of the setting sun, she read the letter twice more, then left the chair and placed the letter on the small round table in the center of the room.

  Questions plagued her mind as she paced the floor, stopping at the window periodically to stare at the gorgeous colors on the long-fingered clouds floating on the horizon.

  When darkness prevailed over Madison, and it was almost time for bed, Tracie went to the closet, took out a well-worn cotton gown, and laid it on the bed. Moments later, after hanging up her dress and donning the gown, she stepped in front of the dresser mirror and loosened the tight coil of long blond hair at the nape of her neck and let it fall in soft waves down her back.

  She went to the washstand and poured water into a flowered basin from a pitcher of the same design and washed her face. After drying, she picked up a hairbrush and went back to the chair by the window to sit on the edge of the seat.

  She glanced at the lanterns in the street below and gave her hair several quick strokes with the hairbrush. All the while, she couldn’t get Dan Johnson’s letter to Leah Desmond out of her mind.

  She rose from the chair and walked to the dresser, saying aloud, “Oh, well, I’ll sleep on it,” then picked up her Bible. She sat on the edge of the bed to read a chapter from the Gospel of John.

  Finally, she doused the two lanterns in the room and crawled into bed, fluffing the pillow, but she couldn’t seem to get comfortable. With each change of position, the letter kept invading her thoughts. Try as she might to fall asleep, she could not.

  “Lord is this You keeping me from going to sleep?” she said aloud. “Has this letter come into my hands because You engineered it?”

  She rose from the bed and flared the lantern on the small round table, then read the letter one more time. When she put the lantern out again, she slipped between the sheets and said, “Tracie McCleod, Dan Johnson may already have his mail order bride by now.” A few seconds passed. “But, Tracie, you’re not going to have any peace until you write him, are you?”

  “Lord Jesus,” she said, “I can only do what I feel You are pressing my heart to do. I must write to him. Tomorrow.”

  Once again, as Tracie tried to fall asleep, she lay awake with one thing on her mind. Sitting up, she said, “Oh, all right. There’s no time like the present.”

  She left the bed and fired the lantern on the small round table and took out pen, paper, and ink from the table’s single drawer.

  Before she began, she bowed her head and entreated her heavenly Father for wisdom, asking that every word she wrote would be the word He would have her use, and that His will would be accomplished.

  After several attempts and many sheets of wadded-up paper, Tracie managed to write a complete letter, making sure her salvation testimony was as clear as possible. She read it over, folded it, and quickly sealed it in the envelope addressed to Dan Johnson.

  As though Tracie had been holding her breath all the time she was writing, she gave a big sigh of relief, blew out the lantern, and returned to bed. Still her mind was wound tight as she tried to recall everything she had said in the letter.

  It was a restless night for Tracie McCleod, but sometime in the wee hours, sheer exhaustion drove her to sleep.

  It was the third week in May when Dan Johnson walked out of the San Antonio post office carrying his mail. There was a letter from his mother and one from Benjamin, plus four more letters from prospective mail order brides.

  Dan smiled to himself. He had just posted a letter to the young woman he felt was to be his bride. He stuffed the mail into his saddlebag and rode home.

  After supper that evening, Dan read the letter from his mother and thanked the Lord that all was well with his family. Benjamin’s letter advised him that his train would arrive in San Antonio on Friday, May 29 at 4:00 P.M. A thrill shot through Dan’s heart at the thought of Benjamin actually coming to the ranch and working with him.

  Finally, he picked up the four letters from young women back East who had written in response to his ads. Since they had taken the time to write, he figured it was only right that he at least read the letters.

  The first three were laid aside one by one, each time with Dan thinking how glad he was that the matter was settled. The letter was already on its way to Sally June Bender in St. Louis, Missouri. Then he read the fourth letter and something about it touched his heart. Tracie McCleod of Madison, Wisconsin, was no doubt a born-again child of God. The testimony of her salvation was clear and biblical. Her vibrant personality came through, and she made sure he knew that she had a heart full of love to give the man God had chosen for her.

  Telling himself this was some fine young lady, he inserted the letter back in the envelope, read his Bible and prayed, then climbed into bed. As he tried to drift off to sleep, Tracie’s letter kept going through his mind. The obvious sweetness of her had captivated him.

  After tossing and turning for at least an hour, Dan felt impressed to read her letter again. When he had done so he said, “Dear Holy Spirit, it is almost as if You are shouting at me in my heart. You want me to write Tracie McCleod, I know it. But Lord, I was sure it was Sally June that I was supposed to write to and offer to pay her way to San Antonio. What’s happening here?”

  Dan mildly argued with the Lord about the situation. But the longer he argued, the more he knew he should write to Tracie and establish with her that she was the one he felt God was telling him should be his mail order bride.

  “But Lord,
” he said, looking heavenward in the darkness, “this means I have to get to the post office first thing in the morning and ask them to give me back the letter I mailed to Sally June.”

  The Lord seemed to say, “Yes, son. You must do that.”

  Dan sat down at his desk and prayed, asking for wisdom, then started the letter. As he wrote, he asked some things about Tracie, telling her that she very much interested him. One question was about the feeling he had in reading her letter that she had been through some heavy heartache. He wanted to know if he was right, and if so, could she share it with him.

  With a prayer of thanks to the Lord for speaking to him so plainly in his heart, Dan sealed the letter.

  The next morning, he was at the post office before opening time, tapping on the door and waving at the clerk who was almost ready to open for business. He was able to get the letter back that he had posted to Sally June Bender, and with peace flowing like a river through his heart, he posted his letter to Tracie McCleod.

  ON SATURDAY, MAY 23, CHARLES AND EVELYN MOORE were in the library when Priscilla entered the room. “Benjamin is here to see Papa,” she said. “May I bring him in?”

  “Certainly,” Charles said.

  Priscilla disappeared for a few seconds, then returned with Benjamin at her side. Evelyn stood up and greeted him, then said, “I’ll leave you two men to your business. Are you still leaving on Tuesday, Benjamin?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Dorena has been counting the days, Priscilla tells me. She’s having a powerful case of mixed emotions. She knows she’s going to miss you terribly when you leave, but she also knows that in order for the two of you to have your life together, you have to go to work for Dan Johnson.”

  “It’s very hard for me, too, Mrs. Moore,” Benjamin said. “But I know I have to keep focused on the day Dorena and I can be married.”

  “That’s right.” Evelyn headed for the door. “And you just stay focused.”

  “I will, ma’am.”

  Joining Priscilla at the door, Evelyn turned and said, “I assume you and the Johnsons will want to take Dorena with you to the depot on Tuesday?”

  “Yes, ma’am, if that is all right with you and Mr. Charles.”

  “Of course,” said Charles.

  Evelyn smiled. “We’ll tell you good-bye on Tuesday when you come to pick her up, then.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Charles closed the door behind the ladies and led Benjamin to an overstuffed chair that faced his. When they were seated, he said, “All right, son, what did you need to see me about?”

  “I just wanted to make sure that you will stand by your written guarantee, sir.”

  Charles grinned. “I most certainly will. My word is my bond, Benjamin, and I would stand by it even if I hadn’t given it to you in writing. Dorena will become yours the minute you can lay four hundred dollars in my hand.”

  “Please do not think I have any distrust by asking, sir. I … I just had to make sure.”

  “I understand, son. This is a big undertaking on your part. It never hurts to make sure everything is in place.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Charles. My plan is to return in October. I’ll have the four hundred dollars by then.”

  “Sounds like a solid deal,” Charles said.

  Benjamin rose to his feet. “Thank you for giving me your time, sir. I will be going now.”

  “Did you want to see Dorena while you’re here?” Charles asked, standing up.

  “I would like that, sir.”

  “Well, you wait here, and I’ll find her. You can have a few private moments right here in the library.”

  When Charles opened the door, Priscilla and Dorena were standing in the hall.

  “I knew Benjamin would want to see her, Papa,” Priscilla said.

  Charles let out a chuckle. “You were ahead of me, weren’t you, daughter?” Then to Benjamin and Dorena, “You two take your time.”

  When the door was closed, Benjamin folded Dorena’s small frame into his arms and held her tight.

  Clinging to him, she said, “The days have passed by so quickly since you told me you will be leaving on Tuesday.”

  “Let us hope they will pass by as quickly while we are apart,” he said. “Five months sounds like such a long time.”

  “The only thing that will help me to endure it, my love, is that I know at the end of the five months you will come for me and we will be together from then on.”

  She laid her head against Benjamin’s chest. Deep inside she had been carrying a profound fear that something would happen and she would never see him again. She turned a luminous face up to him.

  “Oh, Benjamin, I love you so much.”

  Looking down on her precious, beautiful features, he said, “I love you so much, too, sweet Dorena. Do I see worry in your eyes?”

  She forced a smile. “Well … five months is a long time, and—”

  “Everything is going to be fine, sweetheart. We will both be very busy and the time will hurry by.”

  Thinking on his words, Dorena knew she would be enmeshed in Priscilla’s wedding preparations with hardly any time for herself, for which she was grateful.

  “Yes,” she said, “we will both be very busy. October will be here before we know it.”

  The couple spent a few more minutes in the library, then Benjamin told her he needed to go. He and the Johnsons would pick her up Tuesday morning at about 7:30.

  Dorena closed the door to her room and sat down on the featherbed, pressing her hands to her face. She broke into sobs, giving way to copious tears, all the while trying to convince herself that her fears were unfounded. When her well of tears finally ran dry, she was exhausted but felt a sense of relief from her pent-up anxieties.

  Bowing her head and closing her eyes, she said, “Dear Father, please give me grace to endure whatever might lie ahead. I want Your will to be done in Benjamin’s life and in mine. I am trusting You to let our dreams come true.”

  On Tuesday morning, the Johnson carriage pulled away from the Moore mansion.

  Zack Johnson was at the reins with Catherine beside him. On the seat behind the driver, facing backward, Alexander sat beside Angeline. Benjamin and Dorena sat together facing them. They rode quietly, each lost in their own thoughts.

  On one hand, Benjamin was very excited about his journey to Texas and the prospect of a bountiful future. On the other hand, leaving Dorena would be the most difficult thing he had ever done. But knowing he could never have her without earning the ransom money made his departure more palatable.

  Dorena reminded herself that she would never be free to marry Benjamin unless he had the money to purchase her from Master Charles. Their being apart until October just had to be.

  After telling Benjamin good-bye on the train station platform, Zack, Catherine, Alexander, and Angeline stepped away, allowing the heavy-hearted couple a few private moments.

  Benjamin held both of Dorena’s hands as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes and pledged their love and faithfulness, agreeing they would live for that happy day when they would be reunited. Each promised the other they would keep letters going between them.

  When the conductor’s voice called for all passengers to board, Benjamin cupped Dorena’s face in his hands and said in a low voice, “Sweetheart, in your darkest hours, always remember that with God, all things are possible.”

  Tears brimmed her eyes. “I will not forget, darling. I will keep my heart fixed on the day when I look up the lane in front of the Moore house and see you driving in to pay my ransom and claim me.”

  Moments later, the Johnsons stood beside Dorena as she stared after the diminishing train. She covered her mouth to smother the sobs trying to escape.

  On the afternoon of Friday, May 29, Dan Johnson drove the Circle J wagon into the parking lot at the San Antonio depot. He had allowed more than enough time to buy groceries and supplies at the general store and was a bit early.

  As he hopped o
ut of the wagon and headed toward the terminal building, the sun peeped under its porch roof and painted the log walls a golden hue.

  He stopped at the tracks beside the platform and glanced eastward, focusing on the distant prairie where the tracks seemed to meet. As yet, there was no sign of billowing smoke from the engine’s smokestack.

  A few railroad workers were milling about, and he noticed some people coming from the direction of the parking lot.

  Dan began to pace slowly up and down the length of the platform, glancing eastward from time to time. When he saw more people coming from the parking lot, he recognized neighboring rancher Jules Crain and his only son, twenty-two-year-old Wyatt. They spotted him and moved his direction.

  Dan smiled as they drew near. “Good afternoon, Jules, Wyatt. You fellas here to meet someone?”

  “Yep,” Jules said, lifting his hat and setting it on the back of his head. “My nephew, Nat Crain. He lives in Galveston. He and Wyatt are about the same age and have long been close cousins.”

  “He’s comin’ to spend a few weeks with us at the ranch,” Wyatt said.

  “So, who are you meetin’, Dan?” Jules asked.

  “Friend of mine who’s coming from South Carolina to become one of my ranch hands.”

  “Hey, that’s good. I’m glad to know the Circle J is doin’ well enough that you need to hire a fifth man.”

  They heard the shrill sound of the train’s whistle and turned to see it rolling down the tracks and sending billows of black smoke toward the sky.

  Soon the train rolled to a halt in the depot, and passengers began alighting from the coaches. Dan and his neighbors were still standing together, all three watching the coach platforms as passengers descended the steps.

  “Hey, Dad!” said Wyatt, pointing at car number one. “There he is!”

  Nat Crain saw his uncle and cousin and walked toward them. After both Jules and Wyatt had shaken hands with Nat, Jules introduced him to Dan.