Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana (26 page)

He took a bite of the pound cake drenched in marmalade. Gazing out the window at the gloomy sky overlooking Main Street, his thoughts churned as the conversation carried on around him.

Since walking out of his sister’s house that night, leaving Julia in his wake, he’d struggled to regain his normal routine. Maybe it was the memory of the heartbroken look on her face that made him cringe. Everything about her—her tears, smile, laugh, curiosity about the Bible—was etched in his mind. And the indescribable light in her eyes. How it felt to hold her…

Little Tommy finished his corn then reached for the piece of cake his mom offered. “Mmm.”

Isaac knew how to discipline his thoughts, and he’d done that. He’d not allowed himself to doubt his decision. It was for her safety as well as his own peace of mind. For the most part, he’d succeeded in shoving away the images of her.

Yet one phrase replayed in his mind over and over. Milo’s words.
It is not good that the man should be alone
.

Milo hadn’t understood. He’d thought Isaac’s choice stemmed only from his obligation to the ministry. That was only part of it. If Milo were here, he’d see the wisdom of Isaac’s decision. He’d support him as he always had.

Isaac longed to believe that.

“Do you want to play with us, Parson?” Mrs. Jay set out a board game called Parcheesi on the table. “We’ve got room for one more. It’s quite a hoot.”

“I want to play!” Tommy piped up from his spot next to Isaac.

Isaac shook his head. “I don’t know how. I’d rather watch anyway.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, returning to his thoughts as the family members moved their pawns around the board.

After he’d left his sisters’ ranch, Isaac had returned to his soddy for some rest, but at the first call of the magpie, he’d set out to return to his long-neglected circuit. He was more determined than ever to persist on the path he and Milo had charted—preaching, the school, even more orphan trains, and eventually a hospital. No more veering onto jackrabbit trails.

The school’s supplies would arrive on the train in just three weeks, and he still didn’t have a teacher. Of course, the idea of preparing for the classes sent his thoughts back to Julia. If only he could ask her to take the job. In his mind he viewed her explaining fractions and Shakespeare’s
Henry V
to an enthralled classroom of Montana’s youth. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more….” He could see her rousing the children’s interest.

But how could he expect her to change plans and stay in Lonesome Prairie? He picked up his mug and took a swallow of the freshly boiled well water. A wave of shame, as tangible as the liquid flowing down his throat, overtook him. He recalled the disappointment on her face when he left that night, her effort to hold back tears—tears that he caused. How could he ask her to bury the anger and hurt she must possess toward him and take on a working relationship?

The truth was he didn’t know if he could bear to be near her, either. Perhaps it was better that she return to New York. Julia had told him her plan to get a job in the home of Mrs. Gaffin. That sounded safer than trying to make it on the vast Montana prairie with its outlaws, hardships, and even the land and weather that seemed to fight against the hardworking homesteaders. Yet even as he thought this, a claw of anxiety pawed at him for her safety on the return trip. He knew the evil that resided in men’s hearts, the dangers that could steal a beloved one away forever….

His mind rolled and swayed. There had to be a way for him to get her safely home. He owed her that much. He’d do the same for any young woman under his influence.

“Coffee?” Mrs. Jay held up the tin coffeepot, waiting for Isaac’s response to her offer.

He was just about to decline, thinking he needed to head out in order to make Fort Belknap by first candlelight, but his answer was forestalled by a pounding knock on the door.

“Lemme in!” a voice demanded. “I needs ta talk ta Parson Ike.” More thumping hit the door. “Lemme in!”

The captain stood, marched to the door, and opened it. “What do you want, sir?”

Isaac followed the captain. “Horace?” He eyed the old prospector, whose face was contorted with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Parson Ike. I’m glad I found ya. Done hightailed it all the way from Old Scraggy Hill.” He shoved his palms to his thighs, catching his breath. “You gotta come. Them vigilantes are headin’ up to Jim’s cabin fer Mabelina.” He grabbed Isaac’s wrist. “We gotta go right now.”

The tone in Horace’s voice told Isaac that the situation was serious. He knew Jim would protect Mabelina from the vigilantes—at all costs. “All right, Horace. I’m comin’.”

Isaac glanced around the room. “Forgive me.”

Mrs. Jay thrust his Bible into his hand. “You go on. Those folks need you.”

“Well, then, thank you.” Without another word he hurried to the stable with Horace alongside him.

“All right, tell me what happened,” Isaac said as they strode toward the stable.

“I were out on the Beaver River pannin’ fer gold when I seen a posse take off toward Old Scraggy Hill. I overheard ’em say they were searchin’ fer the woman who done shot Elder Godfrey. Heard ’em talkin’ ’bout splittin’ the bounty.”

Isaac’s gut squeezed tight.

“The thing is, I know’d them two newlyweds were out at that ol’ cabin. Me and him used ta squat thar’. I saw ’em headin’ up that way last week when I was pannin’ out on the river. They all happy and married, an’ I thought, gee, it’s too bad she had ta use me to make ’im jealous when he done loved ’er all along.”

They reached the stable, and Isaac mounted Virginia, her butterscotch coat muted in the cloud-coated light. “Thanks, Horace.” Isaac reached down and touched his shoulder. “You did the right thing by finding me. I’m real proud of you.”

Horace beamed up at him. “The Good Lord’s workin’ on me.” He tipped his chin up. “I’ll shoot up a prayer.”

Isaac nodded then set off.

Julia lost count of how many mornings she’d risen before the rooster’s first crow this week. Sleep seemed to arrive late and depart early. Yet she plodded through her days, counting down until she’d return to New York. Despite the busyness of the household, the hours seemed to trickle by.

Finished with breakfast dishes, Julia wiped her hands on her apron and edged out of the kitchen. She passed Abe and Jefferson as they ambled through the sitting room on their way back outside to tend the sheep and, little by little, build a prosperous life for their families.

She’d been watching the two men. They were sheepherders, and while they did care about the animals, it was evident the men’s priority was to provide for their wives and children. Julia stifled a twinge of shame at the jealousy creeping into her heart.

And yet it was easy to be envious of Elizabeth and Miriam. These women had husbands to create a home with. Where was Julia’s home? She’d lost it years ago when her parents died. Now the closest thing to home was with Mrs. Gaffin. But she hadn’t heard from her.

No matter. In a few weeks she’d return—if she could avoid becoming Mrs. Horace Whitbaum till then.

The prospector hadn’t shown his face since that afternoon in the barn, but the threat of him always loomed over Julia. Why had Mrs. Gaffin accepted his money? If she hadn’t, Horace would probably have forgotten all about her by now. And why had Mrs. Gaffin offered her to him—a stranger—in the first place? Julia slowly shook her head. Because her former headmistress saw the lovely ad in the paper and thought it’d be the perfect way to take care of Julia. It was her way of providing.

She did love the woman’s kindness, but if only Mrs. Gaffin had more common sense! Julia had to admit, though, that doubts were starting to creep in, and the longer she didn’t hear from Mrs. Gaffin, the more those doubts took root. What if when she finally reached New York, Mrs. Gaffin no longer had need of her—or worse, didn’t want her around?

“Julia, honestly, you do too much.” Miriam patted Julia’s arm as she entered the house from outside, where they had eaten breakfast. “You already did all the dishes? I was just coming in to help.” She rubbed her lower back and leaned against a kitchen chair, then plopped into it with a winded sigh. “I’m gettin’ mighty ripe.”

Julia squeezed her shoulder. “You poor thing. Just let Elizabeth and me do the dishes from now on.”

At that moment, Elizabeth sauntered in and pinched her lips together. “Was Miriam trying to do the dishes again? I told her to come inside and rest.”

Miriam laughed. “If you two had your way, I’d do nothing else.”

Julia nodded, forcing herself to sound cheerful. “Yes, she was trying to boss me around again, but I didn’t listen. With that baby coming any day now, she shouldn’t be on her feet.”

“No, no.” Miriam dismissed their concerns. “I’m fine.”

Elizabeth shook her head as she exited through the front door with a bucket in hand. “You still need to rest,” she called over her shoulder.

A yawn pushed its way from Julia’s mouth, and she stretched. “I think I might need to sit a spell myself. Do you mind if I go back to my room? I’d like to finish my sampler—if I don’t fall asleep first.”

Her eyes angling in a compassionate slant, Miriam patted the chair next to her. “Sit down here with me first. I’d love the company.”

A twinge of anxiety hit Julia. She’d been avoiding discussing Miriam’s brother with her all week, and she didn’t want to have the conversation now. Isaac’s intentions—or lack of intentions—had crystallized the night he left, and Julia had accepted that. She only wished she hadn’t let her desires go as far as they had. She thought back, remembering the last smile he’d given her that night before she’d told him about the Bible. The smile of appreciation, admiration, even love. But it was the last smile.

What was the point of discussing it with Miriam, or anyone? “I really am quite tired.” She inched her way to her room.

Miriam opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of Shelby and Johannah padding through the house with Bea tagging along behind.

“Your students are ready.” Shelby pointed through the window to the backyard table, where all six of Miriam’s children—along with Julia’s cluster of other pupils—sat with their hands folded.

Julia smiled and pulled Shelby into an embrace. “Did you put them up to that?”

Shelby and Johannah peered at each other and giggled. “We thought if we were really good, we could do school today.”

Elizabeth re-entered, and Bea scurried over to her. As Elizabeth gathered the little one in her arms, a renewed sense of affirmation struck Julia about returning to Manhattan. The girls were in a good, safe home. They were loved and accepted. She wasn’t needed as their caretaker anymore. They did need a teacher, but someone more qualified could do that.

Julia glanced at Shelby and Johannah. “I’m sorry, girls. Not today.”

Both girls’ shoulders drooped, and Julia noticed frowns on Miriam’s and Elizabeth’s faces, as well.

“Please, it’s been a whole week.” Johannah smiled sweetly, her voice persuasive.

Julia massaged the back of her neck, wishing she could rub away the knots. She hated to disappoint everyone, but with the lack of sleep—and the weariness in her heart—she just couldn’t force herself to teach them anymore. What did it matter? She’d be gone and forgotten soon.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Elizabeth shooed the girls away. “Off you go. I’ll come out in a few minutes. I’m no teacher like Miss Cavanaugh, but maybe we can do some reading and writing.”

Shelby and Johannah moaned as they slogged through the door.

Now even more, Julia longed to avoid Miriam’s conversation. She needed a respite from this place, these people. “You know, I think I’ll go for a walk instead. Maybe that’ll perk me up a bit.”

Miriam remained silent as Julia shuffled through the room and reached the door. Opening it, she spied a teenaged boy with his hand raised as if ready to knock.

“Oh! Howdy, miss.”

Julia stepped aside, and the boy strode in as if he owned the place.

“Homer, what’re you doin’ in these parts?” Miriam welcomed the boy inside. “Let me fetch you some water.” She went into the kitchen.

Julia closed the door behind him, noticing a letter in his hand.

“I was just on an errand for my ma,” he called to Miriam in the kitchen. “Seems this letter came in on this mornin’s stage.”

Miriam returned and exchanged the mug of water for the letter. Her eyes glanced over it, and then she gazed up at Julia.

Julia’s heart raced.
Please let it be from Mrs. Gaffin.

“And I’m supposed to tell folks that we got word ’bout the train.”

“What about the train?” Julia asked eagerly.

“Well, seems like there was some kind of mudslide back in Minnesota. Real bad one, covered a huge section of tracks. They say it’s gonna take a few weeks to get it uncovered. So the train’ll be delayed.”

“It’ll be here for the Fourth, though, won’t it?”

Homer nodded. “Oh yeah, sure, but the weekly arrivals won’t be comin’. The next train won’t be till that one on the Fourth.”

Julia released a relieved sigh. “Well, those weekly ones weren’t very reliable anyway.”