by Annie Boone
She fumbled with the wax seal, finally managing to break it, and opened the thick parchment up. Line upon line of the looping and generous script filled the page. She squinted in the darkness trying to make out the words.
Dear Miss Fletcher,
Forgive me for being so cowardly—or so bold—as to approach you in this manner, but the last time we met I know that I made a terrible fool of myself. I did not wish to do the same again, would have you know that I am more than the man you met a few weeks ago. I am not even sure if I have anything to say though I feel so compelled to correspond with you.
I must apologize, for my rudeness that day. I live alone, up on the ridge, and it would seem that I have forgotten how to converse with anyone, not just pretty young ladies, like yourself. I do hope that, should we meet again, I might make a better impression upon you. However, I would understand if you would rather not have anything to do with me ever again!
As I told you, I am from Georgia. Though I love the place of my birth, I chose to come here to Springville when I returned from the war to find that my family’s home had been destroyed by Yankee troops. I sold what little remained, unable to bear the daily reminder of how much the conflict had cost. Not just my family, but families all over this vast land.
I chose to follow in my good friend Nate Ellison’s footsteps. He had just begun his life here in Texas and couldn’t seem to stop telling me how good it was, how friendly and beautiful Springville was. He was right. His life is indeed blessed. He has the most wonderful wife and a real home—things I must confess I wasn’t aware I longed for, until now. Like Nate, I have come to love this strange and difficult place to live.
I live out on the ridge, way up out of town, and I offer my home up to weary travelers, mainly cowboys herding their cattle up through Texas and across the border into New Mexico or up to Abilene. It can be lonely, when there is nobody passing by, but the setting is worth every moment of the solitude.
Maybe I should not confess to this next part, but I feel I should be honest with you from the very first should you wish there to be any further correspondence with me.
I am not a godly man. I don’t offer up my home out of the goodness of my heart. I do it because I must make a living, and these men are often willing to pay very well for a roof over their heads and a full belly.
I lost my faith during the war. When I returned to my home to find that everyone I loved had been killed and the only home I’d ever known burned to the ground, it was horrible. I couldn’t believe a kind and benevolent God could ever have allowed such terrible things to have happened to a family who’d been committed Christians their whole lives. A loving God could never have instilled the desire for war in the hearts of men though I know many would ascribe such things to the influence of the devil. If God is so all-powerful, then such a thing should surely be impossible?
But, putting those deep thoughts aside, I am a good man, an honest man. I do not believe I need to attend church to prove that though to you such a suggestion may seem blasphemous.
I have watched you from afar, and you haunt my dreams, both when I sleep and as I go about my daily chores. I have never known a woman like you before, so strong and so determined. Mae and Nate told me that because of your efforts we’ll have a proper school for all the young ones in town. This is so good and so brave of you to have undertaken, and if the meeting tonight has gone as I believe it will, I’m sure you are now celebrating your success.
I should very much like to get to know you better if you would permit me to do so.
Kindly,
Jude Rigsby
Ellie clutched the letter to her breast, unsure what to make of the information it contained. That he wanted to get to know her that he admired her and had taken such a risk seemed so unbearably romantic. But, she could not help but fear her father’s disapproval of a man so open about his lack of faith.
Her father would surely want her to choose a man who shared her own faith? In fact, he’d said as much when the subject had come up before she even knew of Mr. Rigsby’s existence.
And, then there was the bitterness and anger she had sensed in him. Was she strong enough to banish such deep-seated pain?
Chapter Eight
Jude Rigsby was an enigma indeed–one she would gladly explore–yet, she was frightened of where such a friendship might lead her. He already disturbed her. Like him, her dreams were filled with thoughts of him, and her waking moments seemed to trigger his image more than she could ever have believed possible from such a short acquaintance.
A hot flush swept up her neck as she thought of his words confessing he dreamed about her. His boldness startled and thrilled her at the same time.
But, surely it was also her duty to at least try to bring such a damaged soul back to God? Was it possible that she was the only one who could? But, surely that was arrogance and pride—a sin in itself.
She didn’t know why Jude’s experience made him turn away from his home. Though he’d lost his family, surely there were others there to help him. Couldn’t a farm be rebuilt? And turning away from God just when you need Him the most was a concept she couldn’t understand. Something had made him run as far away from everything as he could. That he was reaching out to her had to mean something though.
Ellie was glad that she and her father would be unlikely to return to Springville until Sunday. It would give her time to think about what she should do, how to respond to this heartfelt and strange letter.
Every bit of her wished to respond now, to pledge her undying support and friendship to this clearly unhappy man. It seemed he’d poured his heart out to her, and she wanted to let him know she was on his side. But she knew she must tread carefully. There was too much at stake to do otherwise. Her heart might not ever survive Jude Rigsby if she wasn’t careful to protect it.
She gazed out of the window, watching as the darkened countryside flew by, as Daddy urged the horses forward. She tried to sleep but couldn’t. Her thoughts wouldn’t calm from the letter. Jude’s words and the image of his ruggedly handsome face were etched in her mind.
She remembered how much she had longed for him to kiss her even though she barely knew a single thing about him. He needed a friend, and she longed for him to romance her and sweep her off her feet. But, it could only end in pain for them both.
But, what if this plea was real? Ellie tightened her grip on the letter. What if he wanted her love, not just her friendship, as she longed for his? He said she filled his dreams. He said he’d never known a woman like her. These were the kinds of things you said to someone you loved. Could she let herself hope, given that her daddy would never approve? Was it foolhardy to fall in love with a man who had such opposite views?
As they clattered onto the streets of Fort Worth, and her father pulled the carriage to a halt outside their home, Ellie knew that she would respond to Jude this very night. She knew she should wait. She was more than aware that she shouldn’t even try to contact him until they could speak in person, but she also knew she had to take this chance.
Jude Rigsby fascinated her, and at the very least she needed to get him out of her mind, her heart. If he proved to be anything other than good, she knew that would be enough to temper even the most fervent ardor on her part. She couldn’t bear the idea of being with someone who was not kind and decent and giving—no matter how fine his features and physique might be.
She must have faith in her own strength of character, that she could and would survive whatever outcome might present itself from letting him in to her life, into her heart. And she would trust God to speak to Jude’s heart, so he’d turn back to the faith he’d once known.
Chapter Nine
Jude was surprised to see Nate coming up the trail to his shack on horseback as they had made no plans to meet. His heart lifted at the sight of him, because, as always, his friend was smiling as he took in the world around him, and his very presence just made Jude feel as though there was at least one person in the wo
rld who cared for him. Well, two, when you added in Mae.
“This truly is God’s country,” Nate said as he reached the spot where Jude was stoking his fire and dismounted. He slapped the animal on the rump and it moved away, beginning to crop peacefully at the grass to the side of the shack.
“I don’t know about that.” Jude frowned, thinking that God didn’t deserve to hold claim on the beauty around them, given his neglect of the creatures he’d supposedly created. “But it’s certainly magnificent to behold.”
Nate sat down beside the fire, stretching out his long legs. “I don’t think I could live this far from polite civilization. Our place is more than far enough out for my liking. But, this is certainly breathtaking,” Nate said, soaking up the grandeur of the hills and mountains that surrounded them.
“How’s Mae?” Jude asked, grabbing the kettle from the stones around the fire, moving towards the barrel on the porch where he collected the rainwater.
“Ah, she’s well. Reminded me to tell you that there is a lunch on Sunday with your name upon it—and that she has just taken a delivery of flour so it would be a good week to come down and learn how to bake bread.”
“I’ll come down tomorrow.” Jude nodded and dipped the kettle into the barrel to fill it up. He brought it back to put it on the fire and chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten bread as good as Mae’s anywhere. If I can learn to make something even half as good, I will have some very happy cowboys spreading the word about this place. But, I’m sure that isn’t all that brings you up here. Nobody in their right mind would head this far up the trail if they don’t need to, no matter how good the view.”
“Well, the postmaster asked me to pass this on,” Nate handed him a letter as Jude sat down. “And I wanted to warn you that we have a guest staying at our place. I don’t want the lad to feel like an oddity should you come down, so felt I should warn you he’s there.”
“A lad?” Jude asked.
“Indeed. He can’t be more than ten or eleven. Isn’t rightly sure himself. He turned up just yesterday, asking if we had any work. He’s a scrap of a thing, all bones. Doubt he’s eaten a hot meal in his entire life. Mae seems determined to fatten him up.”
“I doubt that will take her long, any growing boy with the chance to eat Mae’s good cooking can’t help but thrive,” Jude said, pulling the kettle from the fire and pouring hot water into a battered old pewter teapot and then scooped in some tea leaves from the tin he kept by the fire. Indicating that Nate should pass him an old enamel cup that was on a low table beside him, he stirred the tea.
“He’s a good lad. I’ve never seen a boy so eager to please. He can lift more weight than many a grown man I know. He’s been helping me bring in the hay and even moving some of those old barrels for me. I hope he’ll choose to stay with us. I know Mae would like that.”
Jude could sense the emotion in his friend’s voice. “And you would, too, I’ll wager,” he said with a smile, as he poured out two mugs full of tea, and handed one to Nate. “Tell me to mind my own business,” he said tentatively. “But, is there something wrong when it comes to you having your own?”
“Oh, it’s hardly a secret. Given there’s clearly no bouncing baby boy or girl in the cradle at our place, it would seem we can’t have children.” Nate put his mug down until the liquid cooled a little. “Well, at least, not yet, despite our prayers. So young Zach showing up in need of a family makes me wonder if the good Lord is looking out for all of us after all. And him, too.”
“Sounds like it might just work out for the best,” Jude agreed.
He wasn’t so sure that God was the organizer of such a coincidence. But whatever manner of providence had brought about such a thing, it could only be good for all of them. Mae was made to be a mother, Nate a father. And if this boy, Zach, needed parents, then the balance of the world was right by their meeting however it had been brought about.
The two men sipped their tea in silence, looking out over the horizon. Jude couldn’t help but wonder if the war had maybe left its mark on Nate in some way that they’d never discussed, nor probably ever would. He had no idea how any man could walk out of a war unaffected.
But he couldn’t help but think that sometimes life so often seemed unfair. There were many couples that despite wanting children more than anything were never so blessed. Then others who should never be allowed to be parents seemed to have more kids than anyone might ever have the need for.
Jude took a moment to glance at the letter Nate had brought up from town with him, noticing the neat and tiny script and wondered who it might be from. There was no return address, and that in itself seemed peculiar. He was glad to have his friend’s company, but just this once, he rather wished he was alone so he could read his letter in peace and unravel its mysteries.
He couldn’t help but hope that it was a reply to his own letter to Miss Fletcher. If so, she had composed her response more quickly than he could have hoped for. That could be good news or bad news.
“I must get home,” Nate said finally. “Though I tell you true, I’m reluctant to leave the peace and quiet here. There’s so much I have to get done, and never enough time to do it all.” He grinned, and Jude knew that he didn’t mean a word of it. Nate loved his home and his wife with all he was. It was clear that their new addition, the young Zach, was already beginning to tug on Nate’s heartstrings, too.
Chapter Ten
Jude waited until Nate was out of sight then he carefully opened the wax seal on the letter. Before he started to read, he jumped straight to the end and sighed when he saw it was signed Miss Ellie Fletcher. He scratched his head and returned his attention to the very beginning.
Dear Mr. Rigsby,
Finding your letter in our carriage was quite a surprise. It has taken me some time to make sense of my thoughts and feelings, at least enough so I could respond to you.
You have no need to apologize for your demeanor when we met. You are who you are. And I must confess that I sometimes wish for a little more solitude in my life. It seems I’m always surrounded by people who want something of me and expect me to deliver it right at that very moment. In its own way it must be rather refreshing to not feel the need to be polite at all times.
I understand why you are questioning the goodness of a God who allows bad things to happen. And I don’t believe all good people have strong faith in God. Sometimes, people choose to be kind to others just because they think it’s the right thing to do.
I choose to believe in God, not because I’ve found good in the world but because I believe good has to originate somewhere. It makes no sense to me that good could start from a human for as we see every day, humans aren’t perfect. Goodness couldn’t have started with humanity.
And while the trees, flowers, and hills are lovely and inspiring, goodness can’t come from the world. An inanimate object cannot be the creator of anything.
I do not think that my acceptance that good and bad present in the world means I have to give up my faith. I take great comfort that God is watching over me and loves me even though I am weak and imperfect. I trust that in our hardest times He is there by our side, even when we cannot seem to find Him.
My father has a fervent and passionate faith and I have learned much from him. He and Mama brought me up to believe it’s not a sin to have questions. I do have questions, but not about whether or not God exists. I have already answered those questions for myself and I know you will do the same, eventually.
I am so glad you wrote to me. I’ll be moving to Springville very soon, as Daddy will be taking over the ministry full time. I’ll be happy to have a friend there. I do so hope that you will come down from your hideaway so we might continue to discuss the deep complexities of faith.
Yours,
Miss Ellie Fletcher
For a moment, Jude was taken aback at the fascinating views expressed in Miss Fletcher’s neat calligraphy about God and faith. He would never have suspected her to hold such an open
-minded approach to the subject, given that her father was a preacher. And he was delighted that she did not hold it against him that he felt as he did on the matter. She had responded, and it appeared that she truly did wish the conversation to continue. Maybe he had found a friend.
Jude felt his heart lift for the first time in far too long. He had fretted over that letter. He worried while he was writing it, and he worried after he’d delivered it. He had feared that she might think him unfeeling and cold, at best, but he had been sure that he had to be honest from the first. He had not wanted them to become friends, or something more should such a thing been possible, without her knowing his views on faith. It had seemed to be too big a thing to be glossed over. Yet, it seemed that she truly welcomed the talk he’d opened.
There was no indication of how she truly felt about him, but that in itself was right and proper. She was an elegant and educated young lady after all. It would be quite inappropriate for her to tell him she had any feelings for him, no matter if they were good or bad. But, this letter was most definitely not pushing him away, in fact was inviting further discussion. He was ecstatic and the news that she would be moving to Springville was like music to his ears.
He wondered if he should write back to her now or to wait and go into town and visit with her once she arrived. He realized he was too impatient to wait long enough for her to move to Springville. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for her to be settled enough to receive visitors.
On a whim, he decided to visit her in Fort Worth. He had need of a few items that he could only purchase there, so he’d be making the journey sooner or later, anyway. He planned to leave tomorrow morning, at first light.
