“So they maintained this foundation you talked about by going to church?”
“Partly. But it was more than that. Every morning before breakfast, we had devotions. The family had them in the house, and the hands had them in the bunkhouse or out on the range, if you were riding herd. Mr. Brookstone would tell us what to read in the Bible each week, and let me tell you—he expected you to read it and be ready to discuss.” Again, Wesley chuckled. “Nobody wanted to get caught not having kept up on their Bible reading.”
Chris laughed. “Sounds tedious. Did everyone really abide by that?”
Wes sobered and nodded. “They did. And if they didn’t, they usually left.”
“They got fired?”
“No. Mr. Brookstone would never have fired them over that. But I think some of them wished they’d been fired. Mr. Brookstone would make it his business to corner them and discuss the Bible with them until they were either seeing things his way or they left to avoid having to deal with him.”
“You know, I think I would have made it a challenge to the old man and stuck around.”
“A few saw it that way.” Wes grinned. “I remember when one kid joined on and decided he was going to be defiant. When Mr. Brookstone questioned him about what he’d read, the kid would tell him he didn’t see any purpose in reading the Bible. He didn’t believe in God. They used to go ’round and ’round.”
“What happened?”
“Brookstone challenged him. Told him if he’d read the Bible and discuss it with him over a thirty-day period, Brookstone would pay him a bonus.”
“And did he?”
“Yup. Surprised us all. Even more of a surprise, the kid had a change of heart. Last I heard, he was a preacher down in Cheyenne.”
Chris laughed. “That’s quite a change. I just don’t know what I think about all that. See, when I met up with you folks in Topeka, I was there to research a story about a group of people who believed the Holy Ghost had come to them. By the time I got there, the Bible school had closed and the preacher was being called a fraud.”
“So do you believe that’s the end of it?” Wes asked.
“I don’t know what to think. To tell you honestly, I’d never even heard about the Holy Ghost. Well, except for people blessing you or closing prayers in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.”
“The Holy Ghost is God’s Spirit that dwells inside us. He gives us comfort and counsel. Jesus promised the Holy Ghost to believers when He knew He’d be going back to heaven. It’s through the Holy Ghost or Holy Spirit that we feel God’s presence with us.”
“And you believe that?” Chris asked, trying to imagine the depth of it all. “Ghosts? You believe in ghosts and spirits coming to get inside us and make us do things?”
Wes gave an indulgent smile. “I believe the influence of God’s Spirit is the only way we ever come to the truth—to accepting Jesus as Savior. Otherwise, we’ve no more reason to believe the Bible than we would believe a book of Greek mythology.”
“But the Greeks believed their mythology. A lot of people out there believe the Bible is the Christian’s mythology.”
“That’s their choice,” Wes said. He gave a big yawn. “God’s given us all a choice.” He got up and yawned again. “Personally, I know I’d be lost without my faith. My mother told me about Jesus dying for my sins when I was just a boy. She told me how without that sacrifice, I was hopelessly separated from God.”
“And killing a man made you closer?”
“The Son of God dying as a sacrifice for sin, once for all—that gave me a means of reconciling with God. So I prayed with my mother, told God I knew I was a rotten fella and I wanted Jesus to be my Savior.”
“And that made you good enough to be with God—to have the Holy Ghost come in you and tell you what to do?”
Wes rubbed his face. “There’s nothing good about me without Jesus. Jesus is the only reason I have access to the Father. And the Holy Ghost doesn’t dictate to me. He guides and encourages me. When I consider going astray”—Wes lowered his voice to a whisper—“say, to punch a certain fella in the mouth, it’s the Holy Ghost that calms me and helps me rethink the situation.”
The train jerked and rocked as it passed a rough spot on the tracks. Wes took hold of the back of the chair.
“I think it’s time to turn in, but if you want, we can take this up again tomorrow. I’d be happy to share some of the things I’ve studied in the Bible. When we have free time, of course.”
Chris rose and extended his hand. “Thanks. I’d like that. I appreciate that you don’t look down on me because I don’t think like you do.”
“Jesus didn’t call me to look down on you or anyone. The Bible tells me to be ready to give you an answer for the hope that I have.” Wes smiled. “I just think I can give you a better one after I get a good night’s sleep.”
Chris lay awake most of the night. It wasn’t the things Wes had said that kept him awake, however. It was returning to the area near where he was born that had made him uneasy. Most of the time he could forget the first six years of his life, but tonight those memories hung around his neck like a noose.
Having grown up in a rural town just outside of Washington, D.C., Chris was looked down on and bullied by others. There had never been enough money, and his three brothers were so much older that Chris hardly knew them. It was just as well he’d stayed clear of them. They were known for their fighting and mean spirits. His father was too. He had a violent temper, and the entire town knew it. Chris’s mother often sported a black eye or bruised cheek. Those were just the injuries that showed, however. Chris knew that beneath the long sleeves and high collars she wore, there were other marks. Deeper still, her spirit had been completely destroyed.
Chris had always been a sensitive child. It was that same sensitivity to people and their feelings that made him a good reporter. He’d learned early on to watch people for signs of their feelings, because actions were sure to follow. His mother had taught him this, along with reading and writing. Well before he was old enough for school, Mother had encouraged him to pursue an education even if his father saw no value in it. She had also told him about God’s love, but Chris found it hard to believe in or desire a relationship with God. Especially when his mother was hiding him away from his drunken father.
Rolling onto his back, Chris folded his hands beneath his head. Already his stomach ached at the thought of running into someone who might remember him or his family. Chris was the spitting image of his father and brothers. His piercing blue eyes, strong jaw, and high forehead were all Williams traits. His grandmother had even remarked that Chris was the young man she imagined his father might have been, had he gotten an education and learned to control his temper.
He sighed and closed his eyes. The last thing he wanted was an encounter with people who knew him or his family. He’d been so careful to disassociate himself from his father and brothers. At one time he’d even considered changing his name, but given Williams was so common, he’d kept it, hoping to blend in. His grandmother had done a good job keeping his name out of the papers, but there was always the chance someone would recognize him and remember. If anyone knew about the past and chose to confront him, he’d either have to admit the connection or lie. And if he lied and the truth was found out, then what? When word got back to his editor, what would he say? Would Chris even have a job? With his luck, his editor would want to do a story about it for the magazine.
“Well, that’s never happening,” Chris muttered. It was this thought that made up his mind. While they were in D.C., he would be ill and stay in bed. He knew the summer temperatures inside the train car would be unbearable, but they’d be far more bearable than an encounter with anyone who knew his family.
six
Wes had fully intended to speak to Chris the next day at breakfast, but the journalist had awakened feeling ill and decided to stay in bed. Jason had arranged all manner of events for the show, from participation in one of se
veral Fourth of July parades, to speaking to a group of older veterans, to a tea with the Daughters of the American Revolution. He always kept Lizzy close at his side, as if he thought he could claim her for his own. By the time the troupe returned after a political banquet, everyone was exhausted, and Wes found Chris asleep.
The Fourth of July dawned humid and hot. Chris felt no better, and Oliver offered to send for a doctor. Chris refused, telling them it was just the heat and perhaps something he’d eaten. Oliver promised to send ice and something to drink.
Wes felt sorry for Chris and did what he could to cool down the train car by opening windows and doors. Unfortunately, that allowed mosquitoes and flies in, but Wes figured it was easier to deal with those than the sweltering temperature.
The heat put everyone in a bad mood, and by the time the troupe performed for the city that afternoon, everyone was completely spent and out of sorts. Wes tried to keep everything in perspective and prayed more than once for patience to deal with unexpected situations.
Jason Adler managed to keep Lizzy busy that day, just as he had the day before. It was clear what kind of game he was playing, but Wes had no idea how to counter it. He remembered Mary’s comment about making their engagement official. Was that what it would take to get Adler to back off?
By the time they were ready to load up the train, Wes hadn’t seen Lizzy for several hours. In his frustration and growing anger, he’d turned to loading equipment instead of confronting Adler. He knew Lizzy loved him and had made it clear to Adler that she had no interest in his romantic notions, but it angered him all the same. There was a code among cowboys that you didn’t mess with another man’s girl. Apparently in Adler’s social circle the rules were different.
“Wes, Oliver told me to finish up here so you could join him and watch the fireworks,” Carson said, walking arm in arm with Alice. “They’re waiting for you down by the monument to George Washington.”
Wes wiped his brow. “Don’t you two want to stay with the others?”
Carson grinned and slipped his arm around Alice’s waist. “We’ll be just fine. Besides, looks like you’ve managed to deal with most of the equipment.”
“Yeah, I took care of it first thing. I needed to keep occupied. How was the trip to the White House, Alice?”
She smiled. “It was amazing and beautiful. I’d love to have me a big house like that.”
Carson snorted. “You’ll need a richer husband for that to happen.”
“In that case, I’ll settle for our train car. Just as long as you’re in it.” She gave him a look of adoration.
Their romance brought Lizzy to mind again. “Is Lizzy with the others, or has Adler managed to whisk her off to some supposed bit of publicity?” Wes knew his tone left little doubt as to his feelings, but he didn’t care.
“She’s down there too,” Alice replied. “But I wouldn’t put anything past Jason Adler.”
“Neither would I.”
“Why don’t you just marry her?” Carson surprised him by asking. “Adler would have to leave a married woman alone.”
Wes shook his head. “Knowing Adler, it probably wouldn’t matter. But, to answer your question, I intend to propose tonight.” He hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d made up his mind, but now that the words were out of his mouth, Wes knew it was the right thing to do.
“You do?” Alice bounced on her toes. “That’s wonderful! Oh, I’m so happy for you both.”
“Well, she still has to say yes.” Wes didn’t really think she’d refuse him, but Adler’s interference had caused him to second-guess himself.
“She’ll say yes. She loves and adores you, just as I do Carson.”
“What do you want me to do while you’re gone?” Carson asked.
“The horses are still in the pen. I hated to load them until it was absolutely necessary. It’s just so hot. I thought the evening would cool off more. Of course, I don’t think they’ll enjoy the fireworks, so I suppose you might as well get them onboard.”
“We’ll see to it, boss.”
“Just go find Lizzy,” Alice said, smiling. “Pop that question you should have asked long before now.”
Wes nodded. “I think I will. I just need to change my shirt and get the ring.”
He left the happy couple and made his way into the men’s train car. At the foot of his bunk, Wes found his trunk. Inside, his clean clothes were neatly packed and waiting. Thank goodness for Agnes and Brigette. Those two worked hard, maybe harder than any of the rest of the crew. He pulled off his dirty work shirt and put on one of his nicer shirts. He never cared much for dressing up but knew that the other men would be wearing their best.
He put on his tie and grabbed his Sunday coat. The idea of wearing a coat made him almost rethink his plan, but Lizzy was worth it. Besides, it wouldn’t be for long and the evening would cool off eventually. With that taken care of, Wes pulled a small shaving kit from his trunk, then sat on the edge of his bed. Opening the box, he spied the ring he’d purchased months ago in Miles City. It wasn’t anything fancy. Just a small ruby on a gold band. He hoped Lizzy would like it. It was very similar to the ring his father had given Wes’s mother when he proposed.
He slipped the ring into his pocket, then returned the shaving kit to the trunk and closed the lid. As he passed Chris’s bunk, he noticed the journalist was awake.
“Are you feeling any better?”
Chris nodded. “Oliver’s sent a variety of things throughout the day, and I’m feeling much improved. I think after tonight I might be back up and running.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Now, if you don’t mind . . . I’m off to propose to Lizzy.” Wes couldn’t help but grin.
“That’s wonderful news. I’d tell you good luck, but you won’t need it,” Chris replied, smiling. “It’s obvious she’s in love with you. Hopefully I can get you two to pose for a photograph. That way I can write up something about the romantic Fourth of July proposal in the nation’s capital for the magazine.”
Wes nodded. “Maybe later, when we’re both feeling surer of ourselves.” Chris chuckled, and Wes smiled. “Well, here I go.”
Wes left the train and walked toward the center of the city. Band music was playing somewhere on the grassy parkway that stretched from the Capitol to the White House and a little beyond. There were people everywhere. Some had come to picnic and others to simply stroll. All were dressed in their finery, and Wes was glad he’d chosen to put on his good clothes. He made his way down the National Mall to where most of the Brookstone troupe had gathered by the Washington Monument.
“Wes, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” Oliver said, giving him a pat on the back.
“I wasn’t sure I’d find you in this mass of people. Makes me long for Montana.” Wes glanced around for Lizzy. When he caught sight of her, he smiled. She was so beautiful.
Lizzy was talking to Ella but immediately seemed to sense Wesley’s gaze. She looked up, found him, and gave a wave before saying something to Ella. She quickly left the younger woman’s side and made her way to Wes, offering him a big smile as well as a tall glass of iced lemonade. “I’ve missed you.”
Wes took the drink and nodded. “I’ve missed you too.” He noted her outfit. She wore a beautiful rose-colored gown trimmed in lace and a large straw hat done up with ribbons and flowers. “I see you dressed up too.”
Lizzy glanced down at her gown. “Jason said everyone would be dressed up, and I didn’t want to stick out.”
“You’ll always stick out, Lizzy. You’re the prettiest one here, and that color suits you.” Even in the lamplight, Wes could see her blush. “I have something I want to talk to you about.” A beautiful white star burst in the sky above them, much to the approval of those gathered to watch.
She raised her face. “Is something wrong? Are the horses all right?”
“Everything’s fine, including the horses.” He lowered his voice. “This is something more private . . . about us.”
Before he could change his mind, Wes handed Oliver his drink and then dropped to one knee. Lizzy’s brown eyes went wide, and when he held up the small ring, they filled with tears.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now.” He grinned. “Elizabeth Brookstone, will you be my wife?”
“Of course!” She squealed in delight as a huge firework exploded overhead.
Wes got to his feet and slipped the ring on her hand. All around them, the troupe was cheering and offering congratulations, but Wes only had eyes for Lizzy. He pulled her close and felt her wrap her arms around his neck. He pressed his lips to her ear. “I love you, Lizzy.”
“It took you long enough to figure that out,” she murmured.
“It did, and for that I ask your forgiveness.”
He kissed her then and forgot about everything and everyone else. She was his entire world and always would be.
Jason sat in the box office and finalized the ticket count and money they’d made that evening. Just the few changes he’d implemented to the show had doubled their income and put the show in the black again. His father would be pleased. Father had been pushing him to settle into a business, but nothing had really appealed to him. Jason’s college education gave him great insight into legal matters as well as mathematics, but while he enjoyed both, he didn’t feel drawn to either one. In fact, these days the only thing he felt drawn to was Lizzy Brookstone.
As he put the money and receipts in a money bag, Jason remembered the proposal Wesley DeShazer had made to her just two days before. He knew they were in love, but he figured it would be easy enough to woo Lizzy away from the cowboy. After all, Wes couldn’t do half the things for her that he could.
Wherever You Go Page 6
