Measure of Grace (28 page)

Snarling, the big man said, “I hate it.”

“Then you wouldn’t want to be locked up forever, would you?”

“Whattaya mean?”

“Like all human beings, Mr. Morrow, you are a sinner before a holy God, and the Bible says if you die in your sins, you will spend eternity in the blazing prison called hell. You’ll be locked up forever. No escape. Nothing but burning in the flames and begging for water for all eternity.”

While Stu stared at the preacher wide-eyed, Bradford went on to tell him about God’s Son going to Calvary’s cross to provide salvation and forgiveness for Stuart Morrow.

Stu broke into a cold sweat and swore again, angrily telling Bradford to get out and never come back.

Tears welled up in the preacher’s eyes as he said, “I can’t force you to listen, Mr. Morrow. But I want you to think about this. If there were no eternal prison house called hell, the Lord Jesus would
never have come from heaven to sacrifice His life and His blood to give us the way to miss it. If you die without Him as your Saviour, you will go to the prison from whence there is no escape.”

Morrow’s beefy features were set in a harsh mold. His eyes blazed as he swore. “Get outta here! I don’t want to hear any more of that. Y’hear me? Get out!”

The preacher wiped tears from his cheeks, turned, and left the cell block.

Stu Morrow cursed the preacher’s name and plopped back down on his bunk.

A
N ICY NORTH WIND HOWLED
down off the snowcapped peaks of the Sawtooth Mountains, whipping across the hills and through Elkton as Jordan Shaw rode into town late in the afternoon on Monday, October 28. The raw chill of the wind was beginning to bite through Jordan’s boots and his heavy mackinaw, sending a periodic shiver through his body.

Pulling rein in front of the post office, he saw a familiar face on the boardwalk. It was his brother-in-law, Mark Hedren.

Mark smiled, tugged his coat collar up tighter around his neck, and stepped up close to the hitch rail as Jordan dismounted.

“Feels like January instead of October,” Mark said, glancing toward the mountains. “Old man winter is already having a heyday up there. Plenty of snow, already.”

“I don’t mind the snow,” said Jordan, wrapping the reins around the rail. “Makes for good hunting.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mark chuckled. “You love that hunting, don’t your?”

“Sure do.”

Mark looked him square in the eye. “You bringing Belinda to Lorene’s birthday party?”

It was all Jordan could do to keep his voice warm and friendly. “Not planning on it.”

“But you’ll be there with your parents, won’t you?”

“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t miss my sister’s birthday party.”

“Jordan, I’m sure Belinda would come with you if you’d ask her.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. But I’d rather come alone.”

Mark gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t understand you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here’s a very pretty girl available and yearning to be your one and only, and you let her dangle. She’s really a nice girl, Jordan. You’d better latch onto her before some other guy does.”

I wish some other guy would
, thought Jordan. Belinda was still pushing herself on him, and the pressure was still on by his parents and hers for nuptials. Both Mark and Lorene still put in their little digs about it, too. Irritated by it all, Jordan wanted to just spout off to the whole bunch, telling them to mind their own business, but he especially didn’t want to upset his parents. He wanted the new ranch his father had promised him, as well as the log house that was to be built on it.

Eager to get inside the post office, Jordan said, “Well, Mark, if I don’t run into you in the next few days, I’ll see you at the party.”

“Okay,” said Mark. “I’ll tell Lorene you won’t be bringing Belinda.”

Heading for the post office door, Jordan looked over his shoulder. “You do that.”

Inside the post office, there were two long lines at the counter. Jordan got in the shortest one and prepared himself for the wait. A few people were gathered around the potbellied stove that stood in the middle of the floor not far from where the lines were formed.

A fidgety Jordan Shaw shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing the clerks would work faster. Since Knight Colburn had placed the mail order bride ads for him in the eastern newspapers, Jordan had made sure he was the one from the Bar-S to pick up the mail when it arrived three times a week by stagecoach.

It had been nearly two weeks since Knight had wired the ads eastward, and so far, there had been no replies. Jordan was hoping it would be different today.

The lines moved slowly, but finally, Jordan stepped up to the counter and forced a smile. “Howdy, Clete. Need the mail.”

“Sure enough, Jordan,” said the elderly clerk. “I’ll get it for you.”

While Clete was behind the wall, Jordan looked around and
noted that there were few people left in the building. Only a handful stood in both lines, and two elderly men who had been sitting by themselves in chairs near the potbellied stove were preparing to leave.

Clete returned with a small stack of mail. “Here you go, Jordan.”

“Thanks,” said Jordan, taking the stack. When he turned around, the two elderly men had vacated the building, and no one else was near the stove. Sitting down on one of the chairs, Jordan quickly sifted through the mail. He barely got started when he found an envelope from a Betty Sandell of Dayton, Ohio, addressed to him.

His heart began to pound. He started to open it, then decided to check the rest of the mail first. He set the letter aside and continued sifting. His heart seemed to skip a beat when he found a second letter addressed to him. This one was from a Marianne Wilson of Jersey City, New Jersey.

Laying that one aside also, he flipped through what was left, and was pleasantly surprised to find a third letter addressed to him on the very bottom of the stack. It was from a Diana Morrow of Richmond, Virginia.

Nervously, Jordan used his pocketknife to open the first envelope, and took out the letter from Betty Sandell. When he finished reading it, he moved his head back and forth slowly, and put the letter back in the envelope. Next he read the letter from Marianne Wilson. Like Betty Sandell’s, it too was disappointing. Both young women showed themselves to be quite shallow, and only interested in the fact that he had money.

Stuffing Marianne’s letter back in the envelope, he picked up the letter from Diana Morrow. “Well, here goes,” he said, slitting the envelope and taking out the letter. He scanned it quickly, fully prepared for another disappointment.

But it wasn’t like the others.

He smiled as he perused it slowly, and his smile broadened as he carefully read each word.
Yes!
he thought as he folded Diana’s letter and slipped it back into the envelope. In a whisper, he said, “You could very well be the one, Diana. I can tell that you are a
sweet young lady with a tender heart. You never once mentioned my wealth, and you have a good sense of humor. I like you very much already.”

Placing Diana Morrow’s letter in the pocket of his mackinaw, he gathered up the rest of the mail and moved outside. Quickly, he stuffed the mail in a saddlebag, mounted, and trotted down the street to the
Elkton Sentinel
.

Erline Tyler was at her desk when Jordan stepped in. “Hello, Jordan. I assume you want to see the boss.”

Jordan grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Is he busy?”

“Not that busy. He’s alone in his office. As always, he’ll be glad to see you.”

“Thanks,” said Jordan, pulling the envelope out of his mackinaw pocket as he headed for the office door. Tapping on it, he called out, “Is the big newspaper magnate in there?”

He heard Knight laugh and say, “No, but come in anyhow.”

Jordan stepped in, closed the door behind him, and rushed up to Knight’s desk, waving the envelope. “Look what I got!”

“Your first response to the ads?”

“Well, actually there were three letters in today’s mail, but I’ve already ruled two of the women out. They seemed more interested in my wealth than myself. Ah, but this one! I want you to read it, Knight. She’s just what I’ve been dreaming about! Not one time does this girl mention my money. She’s really something. I think I’ve found her.”

“Hold on there, my friend,” admonished Knight, knowing how impetuous Jordan could be. “Not too fast, now.”

Extending the envelope to him, Jordan said, “Here. Read it for yourself. You’ll see what I mean.”

Knight grinned at him, took the letter from the envelope, leaned back in his desk chair, and began reading. The further he read, the more he was impressed with Diana Morrow.

When he finished reading the letter, he smiled and said, “I like this girl, Jordan. You’re right. I think you may just have found her. So what next?”

“I want you to word a return letter to her for me.”

“Be glad to.”

“Good! I want to tell Diana that she sounds like just the girl for me. And I want you to use the most captivating words you can think of. I want to say in the letter that if after receiving it, Diana wants to come as my prospective bride, I want her to let me know as soon as possible and I’ll send her the money for her travel expenses.”

“All right,” said Knight, taking paper from a desk drawer. “Let’s see if I can get it down in a way that pleases you. Have a seat.”

Jordan sat down on one of the chairs in front of the desk and watched as his friend took pen in hand, dipped it in the inkwell, and began to write.

When Knight was finished, he blotted the ink and handed it to Jordan. “See what you think.”

The look that came into Jordan’s eyes as he read the letter told Knight that he was pleased.

Smiling broadly, Jordan looked at Knight and said, “Ol’ pal, it’s perfect! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I hope it works out for you. New subject.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Are we still going hunting together tomorrow?”

“I’m sure planning on it.”

“Good. I was hoping nothing would come up on the ranch that would keep you from going.”

Jordan laughed. “It would take something really drastic to keep yours truly from going hunting! Should be good hunting, with all the snow that’s fallen in the mountains the past few days.”

“Yes,” said Knight, glancing out the window. “Looks like it’s starting to snow out there right now.”

Looking at the fat flakes coming down from a heavy sky, Jordan said, “Sure enough. That north wind has sent us some snow right here in town.” He rose from the chair. “Oh. I need you to address an envelope for me.”

“Sure.”

When the envelope was addressed to Diana Morrow, Knight handed it to Jordan, was thanked again, and Jordan hurried out to post the letter. The stagecoach that had come in from Ketcham that afternoon would carry his letter to the railroad the following morning.

The next morning, it was still snowing lightly as Knight and Jordan rode into the Sawtooth Mountains. The wind had dwindled to a slight breeze, for which they were thankful.

When they reached the high country, they left the horses and pack mule tied to trees and began plodding through the eight-inch depth of snow in the forest on foot, rifles in hand.

Keeping his voice just above a whisper, Knight said, “I’m really glad for you. The more I’ve thought about Diana Morrow’s letter, the more convinced I’ve become that she’s the right girl for you.” His warm breath was forming small clouds on the cold air as he spoke.

The excitement Jordan was feeling showed in his shining eyes as he said with his own breath clouds riding the icy air, “I can’t wait to hear back from her. I hope she’ll still be interested after she reads my letter.”

“I have no doubt that she will. Sounds like she’s just what you need in a wife.”

They came to a small, gurgling stream, which was ice-edged, and after they hopped to the other side, Jordan said, “Speaking of what I need in a wife, what are you doing about finding yourself a wife? You’re twenty-four too, you know, and should be getting married.”

As they pushed aside snow-laden pine branches so they could keep moving, Knight said, “The Lord will send the right girl along when it is His time for it to happen. As a child of God, I can rest in His plan for my life. And I can also rest in His care when I die and leave this world, Jordan. I know when I take my last breath on earth, I’ll find myself looking into the face of my Saviour in heaven. But you—”