by Woods, Emily
“I guess every father wants the best for his children, whether they want it or not. I, um, talked to Maddie a little and she assures me that you are a good father.”
Luke looked a little surprised and then pleased. “She said that? Well, that's nice to hear. I'm proud of her too, even if she's not really a traditional woman.”
“You have a nice family,” Alex added. “Two daughters and one son.” Something flickered in Luke's eyes and Alex decided to press on and see how far he could go. “They're lucky to have you for a father. Not everyone has a father like you. I certainly didn't.”
Luke had gone from looking sad to concerned in an instant. “Kate said something about grandparents raising you? How was that?”
Alex took in a long breath, hoping he could lead the conversation the way he wanted.
“I know they love me, but they were strict and reserved. I always wanted to meet my real father. You see, he left when I was a baby.”
“Really? Left you? That’s terrible.” Luke frowned. “But you still want to meet him?”
Swallowing hard, Alex nodded. “I don't blame him for leaving. He was broken up about my mother's death. She was his whole world, or so my grandparents say.”
He could barely hear his own words over his blood roaring in his ears. He dared to look at Luke and saw as his eyes filled first with amazement and then tears.
“What was your mother's name?” he whispered.
This was it. He had to go forward. There was no going back from here.
“Mary,” he said softly. “Mary Rochester.”
Luke stared at him and then swallowed hard. He hunched forward suddenly as though he'd been punched in the stomach. He reached out and grabbed the fence beside him, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“Paul?” he groaned. “Are saying that you’re Paul?”
Blinking fast, Alex took a shaky breath and nodded. “I'm Paul Alexander Rochester…once Paul Winston.”
Before Alex could react, Luke took a step forward and pulled him into a fierce hug.
“Oh, my son!” he exclaimed, a sob breaking up his words. “Why did you wait even one minute to tell me? How did you get here? Do your grandparents know?”
Emotions welled up inside him and Alex couldn't respond. Words stuck in his throat and he could only moan.
Suddenly, Luke stepped back, grasped him by the shoulders and really looked at him, examining from head to toe.
“How could I not see it? You're so like your mother! Oh, Paul...” He shook his head and tears streamed freely down his face. “I’m so glad you’re here! It’s an answer to my prayer! Praise God!”
Alex wasn't sure how he felt at that moment. Having his father accept him in this manner was the pinnacle of all his hopes, but he only felt numb.
“My grandparents think I'm at Stanford,” he said lamely. “They sent me there, but I changed the ticket. I knew where you were from the letters you sent to them, but you never wrote to me.”
“Paul, I...”
“I like Alex better,” he said, suddenly stiff. Luke looked as though he'd been slapped and Alex immediately regretted his harsh words. “It just feels more like me. I don't know why.”
“Oh…okay, Alex...” Luke looked a little hurt, a little confused. “I don't know what to say. I wrote to your grandparents after I remarried. I wanted to bring you over here, but they told me that you were settled and happy. They said it was better if I didn't try to get in touch, that it would just confuse you.”
White hot anger rushed through him, but he wasn't sure who it was directed at--Luke or his grandparents.
“They had no right to say that,” he nearly hissed. Raw emotions surfaced, boiling over. “I always wanted to know you and asked them again and again if I could write to you. Finally, they said you had moved on with your life. They never said you didn't want me, but it felt that way.”
Luke groaned, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I—I thought I was doing the right thing. God forgive me! Why didn't I try harder? Kate told me to go get you, but David and Lillian were so good to take you after...after your mother died. Oh, P—Alex. I should have never left you, but...you had every advantage growing up, didn't you? Comfort? A good education? And your grandparents were good to you, weren't they? Loving? Kind?”
Alex suddenly felt completely drained, edgy and impatient. “Money, yes. Love? I suppose after a fashion, but nothing like what other kids my age had. Grandfather only spoke to me about education, rules and responsibility. Grandmother was good to me, but not a mother.” He felt tears on his own face. “Why didn’t you take me? I would have had a mother and a father, a family with a brother and sisters...”
He found he couldn't talk anymore. The lost life that should have been his was too painful to think about, especially now that he'd witnessed what he’d been missing.
“I thought I wanted...” Abruptly, he turned and walked away. He couldn’t say any more.
“Where are you going?” The note of desperation reached his ears, but it wasn't enough to make him stop.
“I don't know,” he replied over his shoulder, then he broke into a jog.
All he knew was that he had to get away. This was not what he expected, not at all.
* * *
Christina stared at the Bible her sister had given her. She hadn't thought to bring her own since it was massive and would have taken up valuable space in her trunk, or so she'd thought. As it turned out, she wouldn't be wearing most of the clothing she'd brought. Even though it was the simplest and plainest pieces from her wardrobe back home, almost everything was too ornate. As much as she despised the cut and patterns of homespun clothes that sister wore, she could see the practicality of it. Valerie had offered to lend her one, but Christina decided to alternate between her two dresses that didn't stand out too much.
More because she was irritated with her sister than out of actual desire to read, Christina picked up the Bible and opened it up. The lingering light was bright enough for her to make out the words, but she lit a candle anyway. The wick sputtered slightly and then came to life, illuminating the words on the page the Bible had fallen open to when she'd gotten up to light it.
“The gospel of John,” she murmured, picking it up and setting it on her lap. “Alright. I guess it's as good a place as any to begin.”
The first part was confusing, talking about the word being with God and whatnot, and then it moved onto to talk about John, whom she presumed was the author of the book. She read about how he called the disciples, how He turned water into wine, and how He lost His temper in the temple. The promise of rebuilding the temple in three days seemed odd, but she just skipped that. As she read through chapter three, about a man named Nicodemus, her heart seemed to slow and beat dully in her chest. Valerie had talked about being born again, but Christina hadn't paid much attention.
And now here it was, Jesus telling this man that he had to be born again, and explained how no one could enter God's Kingdom unless he is born of water and the Spirit. It still didn't make sense, but she couldn't stop reading. Then when she reached verse sixteen, the most famous verse in the Bible according to many, and the only one she knew by heart, she felt something tremble deep inside her.
“For God so loved the world,” she murmured, “that He gave His one and only Son...” God gave His Son to the world. Gave Him how? And how did believing in Jesus get a person into Heaven? The dots just didn't seem to connect. Her mind spun around and around trying to comprehend it. Then she remembered the crucifixion. Jesus died, and that was supposed to get them into Heaven?
With a sigh of frustration, she gently closed the Bible and got ready for bed. This just didn't make sense. How could one man's death, even the Son of God, change the world?
After getting under the covers, she blew out the candle and closed her eyes, but sleep didn't come immediately. The song she'd sung with her niece repeated in her mind, crowding out every other thought.
“Jesus,” she whispered. “I
f You are my friend, help me understand. I don't know why You came into the world or what Your death has to do with anything, but I want to know.”
The anxiety that had been building in her chest settled down and her mind felt at peace. The simple prayer had calmed her, and sleep began to envelop her, giving her the rest she would need to face another day in a place that was as foreign to her as an exotic country. Tomorrow was Tuesday. She would ask the women her questions, and hopefully get the peace she longed for.
9
Alex didn't know how long he'd been walking, but suddenly, the sun started sinking behind the mountains. His stomach rumbled to let him know he was missing dinner, but that hardly seemed worth considering now. Instead, his mind was overrun with feelings he barely knew how to express. Feelings he'd never expected churned inside of him.
Over the past fifteen years or so, he'd always imagined how much better his life would be with a good father. For the past five years, he'd been planning how to find him, and hoped for the best result. However, now that it had happened, he felt deflated, angry even, but he couldn't figure out why.
“He wanted me,” he mumbled at the setting sun. The sky was streaked with orange and pink. Clouds tinged with those same colors hovered around the mountains and created a sight so beautiful that he should have felt privileged to be able to see it, but he felt nothing.
His eyes rose further to stare at the heavenly expanse. “Why do I feel angry?” he whispered. “I should be so overjoyed to find out that my father wanted me, but all I feel is...cheated.”
He hadn't expected this. For most of his life, he'd been resigned to living with his grandparents and tried to be grateful for everything he had. He knew his childhood was not like others'. He hadn't been allowed to participate in rough games with other boys or even sports that his grandfather didn't deem gentlemanly. Swimming, golf, tennis, horseback riding, and rowing were all that were permitted. He'd longed to join the rugby team or even have a boxing lesson, but he didn't even bother asking. Even baseball was considered beneath their family, although he had participated in several games without their knowledge.
As these thoughts continued to fill his mind, Alex felt his resentment grow. As much as he'd wanted to meet his father, now all he wanted was to get away. It was the only thing that mattered now.
He returned to the ranch and found that the men were still at the big house eating dinner. Thankfully, Cole was feeling well enough to make the short walk up and eat with the family or Alex would have had to explain his actions.
Quickly, he gathered his things, including the little bit of money he had left, and jogged to the barn. His horse, Lady, was munching oats and looking well enough, he thought. He was about to saddle her when the very real possibility of getting lost on the way to town occurred to him.
He sighed, hung the saddle back up on the wall, and checked her water.
“Rest well, Lady,” he murmured, rubbing her nose. “Tomorrow, we'll have a long ride ahead of us.”
Back in the bunkhouse, he threw his bag under his bunk and dropped down onto it. He was still musing over what he would do when the other men ambled in, Cole supported between Mark and Austin.
“Hey, Alex. There you are. You missed dinner,” Boone commented, taking a seat at the table where the men usually played cards to pass the time.
“Oh, yeah. I wasn't feeling too great.” It wasn't a lie.
Cole gave him a slightly skeptical look. “Well, Luke seemed pretty concerned. He kept asking us if we were sure we hadn't seen you.”
“Kate sent you some food.” Austin handed him a mound of food wrapped in cloth. When he opened it, he was glad to see several biscuits with slices of beef between them and two apples.
“That was kind of her,” he mumbled, tears coming to his eyes as the truth of the statement hit him. She would have been a great stepmother. Quickly, he turned his eyes to the wall so that the others wouldn't see his tears. “Thanks.”
They passed the rest of the evening talking and joking around. Even Cole was in high spirits. As night approached, they took to their beds and were soon snoring. Alex knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. He had to stay up and get away before first light. The men generally got up around six in the morning, and he hoped to be gone by then, long gone.
When he was sure they were all asleep, he waited a little longer and then crept out, bag in one hand and food in the other. He hoped that they wouldn't worry about him. He'd grown fond of Austin and Cole in particular, but he couldn't stay any longer. He'd go to town and get a ticket to California, find his grandfather's uncle, and see if he could stay there until he got some money together. He was pretty sure he could figure out some excuse as to why he was two weeks late enrolling in Stanford. It would have to be a pretty big lie, but he had no choice.
Staying in the barn for a few hours, Alex had more time to think about his plan. Every so often, he'd take out the pocket-watch his grandfather had given him for his eighteenth birthday and checked the time. When the watch told him it was four-thirty, he saddled Lady and slung his bag over her back.
“Sorry, old girl, but after this, maybe you'll be in retirement. Just don't give out before we get to town.”
Taking a slightly roundabout way toward the trail in order to avoid alerting anyone in the house, Alex headed to town, hoping that he knew the way. The trail was barely visible in the faint moonlight, but he hoped it was enough to get him in the right direction.
By the time the sun started to rise, he was nearing town. It had been a long ride, and he'd fallen asleep twice, but almost falling off Lady's back had woken him up.
The train station was closed when he arrived, so he brought Lady to the stable first and waited for Jimmy, the blacksmith. He hoped to sell her back to the man, even if it meant getting significantly less money despite only having had her for a couple of weeks.
It was another hour before Jimmy showed up, none too impressed with the return.
“I sold you fine horse and you bring her back?”
“I'm very sorry,” Alex said humbly. “But it turns out that the Western life just isn't for me. Not too many people can live out here, but you know all about that, don't you?”
He was trying to flatter the man, and it worked. Jimmy gave him back much more than he expected, although not very close to the original price. Still, it was enough for what he planned.
When the stationmaster finally arrived, Alex found out that the next train to San Jose wouldn't be leaving until much later in the afternoon. He was aggravated, but there was nothing to do but wait. He took a bit of his money and bought breakfast in town from the hotel. He walked around, but nothing seemed to relieve the restlessness in his body. Was he really doing the right thing? Running away from the man he'd been longing to get to know his whole life? But it wasn't just Luke he was running away from, but the anger he felt. It was bigger than him, bigger than anything he'd ever felt, and he was scared of it.
By the time noon approached, anxiety had him in a fierce grip. Walking the entire length of the town hadn't done anything to burn it off, and he was just about to resign himself to waiting at the station for the remaining four hours when a small building on the edge of town caught his eye.
Clean, white, and small, the town's church was surrounded by several large oak trees, which were just turning orange and yellow. It looked like the most inviting place in the world. Alex hesitated and then tried the door. It was open.
“Hello?” he called out. “Is it okay if I come in?”
A middle-aged man of impressive proportions emerged from the back.
“Good afternoon,” he boomed. “Welcome to God’s house. I’m Preacher Howard. How can I help you?”
The minister wasn't at all what he expected. Most preachers he knew were slight and spoke in high, nasally voices. This man looked more like a miner than a minister.
“Uh, I don't really know,” he confessed after introducing himself. “I'm waiting for a train, but I'm not sure if I should
take it.”
Despite his imposing frame, the man's face filled with compassion as he gave Alex a kind smile and invited him to sit down in the front pew.
“Tell me why,” he directed.
Perhaps it was because he told him rather than asked, but Alex did exactly that. Within ten minutes, the preacher knew his entire story.
“And your father doesn't know where you are now, is that correct? Nor your grandparents?”
Alex shook his head miserably, hanging his head and hunching forward in the pew. “I'm hoping Stanford will let me start attending late if I promise to catch up on the material I missed, but...”
Preacher Howard waited a moment and then supplied, “You don't want to leave yet.”
“No.” The single syllable reverberated throughout the small building. “I don't.”
“Then don't,” he replied. “When our spirit resists our plans, it's generally because we're not supposed to go through with them.”
The preacher's words made him feel guilty. “I haven't been much of a Christian,” he confessed. “I don't know what God wants me to do.”
Smiling, Preacher Howard put a large hand on Alex's shoulder. “Then ask Him. He's always listening.”
Again, it wasn't phrased as a question, so Alex felt compelled to obey. He closed his eyes and tried to pray. “I can't,” he finally whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Then let me. Father God, you know Alex's situation and his heart. You know the struggle he's facing, both in his own life and in his relationship with You. Show him Your power, God, and show him Your plan for his life. Forgive him for his deception, Lord. He's sorry for it, I'm sure. Send Your Spirit now to convict him of the path You would have him follow, both for today and in the future. In the powerful name of Jesus, amen!”
“Amen,” Alex echoed. As he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find tears on his face. “I don't usually cry, but lately, I keep finding myself in tears.”
“God gives us feelings about things to help us figure out what to do. When we push them down, one of many things will happen. Some people will turn to alcohol, others will fight or become criminals, and still others will just feel depressed and want to cry. It's not the worst impulse out of all of them.”
