by Danni Roan
And then Maggie knew; she finally understood that Donavan Vane wanted her to stay here and be his wife. Was the man insane? Thinking about it perhaps he was. Maggie smiled her brightest smile and looked longingly at the food hoping he’d get the hint and let her eat. He did indeed start piling food on his own plate then started up the conversation again.
“Now Maggie, I do hope you don’t mind me calling you by your Christian name but as I rescued you and all I thought it would be alright, what do you think of my place?”
“It’s much larger than I had expected Mr. Vane. I’d heard you had the biggest place in the area but I never knew it was this big.”
Just as Vane opened his mouth to speak again the sound of galloping hooves came pounding into the yard and the strong, bold voice of marshal Jason Danvers echoed into the house. “Maggie!” he called “Maggie!”
In a flash Maggie was on her feet and racing to the front door, she had just thrown it open and stepped out onto the front porch when two strong hands grasped her from behind. She screamed wanting only to reach Jason and safety. Donovan Vane snarled, his hot breath spilling over her neck as he pulled her too him, as she struggled down the stairs.
“Jason?” She managed through her fear.
“You can’t have her marshal!” Vane shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “She’s mine. I staked my claim the first night she came to Sawbrush, so you just go on and git!” His grip tightened on Maggie’s arms and she moaned from the pain. He held her in front of him, one arm wrapped around her waist the other holding tightly to her left arm.
“Let her go.” Jason’s voice, deep and strong echoed in the court yard. Everything seemed to move into slow motion then, Vane’s hand flashed toward his gun, but the Marshall’s hand was a blur, there was a loud roar that shattered the early morning, and then Vane’s grip loosened on Maggie as he slowly sagged into the dust of the yard, pulling Maggie down with him. In a heartbeat Jason was out of the saddle, gun still in hand and stalked to where Maggie lay.
A pool of blood was spreading beneath her, as Vane’s life force spilled away. He could hear the sound of men shouting around him, knew that at any minute he could join the dead man on the ground but he had to know that Maggie was alright.
Gently he touched her throat and felt a strong pulse, though she didn’t stir. Strong hands grasped his shoulders and arms wrenching them behind him. Then a small, wiry man stepped out of the crowd. His rundown boots, and worn denims, along with the heavy gloves he wore showed he was a working man.
“What’s going on here?” The new comer demanded, looking at the ground. For a moment a look of shock and horror filled his eyes, then he turned, anger and confusion plain on his face until he saw the small, burnished star on the marshal’s shirt.
“Turn him loose boys.”
The stranger said his quiet voice full of authority, obviously expecting to be obeyed. “I’m Billy.” He said. His voice now sounding sad, hollow. “Billy Vane.”
For a moment Jason wondered if he’d have to kill the man standing before him. He knew he’d go down with all of the hands that had gathered in front of the house. Several toughs in the rear looked ready to pull iron at any moment and Jason wondered if there were any way he could at least get Maggie away before they got to him.
“Marshall, who’s that woman with my brother? I’m afraid to even find out.”
“Her names Maggie Weston and she was kidnapped from Sawbrush last night.”
The small man, gulped and blanched. Then motioned some of the men to give him a hand as he knelt next to the woman. “Well at least she’s alive.” He finally said “bring her inside and we’ll talk.”
Jason didn’t hesitate for a moment. He bent and lifted the still form of the woman he suddenly realized he was completely in love with, into his arms. Maggie stirred in his arms, her eyes fluttering open, and she gazed up at him. He had come for her. He was actually here and he had saved her.
“Maggie.” His voice was deep and full of emotion. His eyes looked onto hers. “Maggie, are you alright?” He crushed her to him, holding her in his strong arms. “Oh, Maggie, I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you. I love you, I love you.” He whispered into her hair.
Gently placing her hands on his shoulders Maggie pushed herself back so that she could look at him. His blue eyes, were filled with love and concern and even then she knew that she loved him too. In despair she leaned into him, and sobbed out all of her sorrow knowing that tomorrow she would have to say good-bye.
***
“I still don’t understand why we’re headed home already.” Chaz grumbled as he pulled the lead rope on Sampson’s halter to keep him close to Clara. “I mean the Marshall got everything figured out an all. Ain’t no one in no danger now and the town was all happy and such. Just seems plumb rude to pack up and light out.”
Chaz had been grumbling non-stop since they’d left Sawbrush in the early dawn. She knew that half the problem was that they had had to leave Jason Danvers below and that the boy was missing him sorely. In truth so was she. It had been one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. Turning away from Jason had felt like leaving half of her soul behind.
He had even proposed to her but deep in her heart she knew that she could not marry him. True he was a good man; honest, just, strong. Everything she could possibly want but for one thing. Her mind drifted back to their conversation the night before. Jason going from pleading to angry in the blink of an eye. His voice harsh from the pain of rejections.
“I don’t understand Maggie.” He implored. “I love you, and I can’t be wrong about how you feel about me. After all this time together, getting to know each other. I can see it now in your eyes, I know you love me.”
“Jason,” she’d whispered, her voice raw with emotion. It’s not that I don’t love you.” She looked into his pain stricken eyes, knowing she was the one causing it and hating herself for it at the same time. “I…I can’t be wed to a man who doesn’t believe as I do.” Her voice faded into strained silence.
“I don’t understand.” He’d replied anger now creeping into his voice. “I believe in God just like anyone else. How can you say that? Do you think I’m some bad man, some filthy sinner who doesn’t even know there is a God?” He was almost yelling now as he whipped off his hat and ran a shaking hand through his thick tresses. “I’ve never done anything terrible. I’ve killed men before but that was my job and they were evil men who had done evil things. What was I supposed to do? Let them go free?”
Maggie laid a small hand gently on his forearm, quickly he covered it with his large calloused one, as she looked up into his troubled eyes.
“No Jason. You’re a good man, probably one of the best I’ve ever known. That’s one of the things that makes it so hard. What I’m trying to explain to you I don’t think you can even begin to understand. The Bible says ‘Be you not unequally yoked together with unbelievers.’ That means that both people have to have the same relationship with God not just believe He exists. Without that I can never truly give myself to you fully. I’m sorry.” She ended, letting her hand slide from his grip.
For a moment he looked at her, seeing her determination and hating it. Slamming his hat back on his head, he’d turned on his heel and walked into the night.
“Ms. Maggie? Ms. Maggie?” Chaz’s voice broke through her thoughts and she pulled Joshua up to see what he wanted. “Yes Chaz?” she knew he could hear the pain in her voice but could do nothing to hide it. “Ms. Maggie, do you reckon we’ll ever see the Marshall again?” he asked hesitantly.
“I hope so.” Was all she said then turned toward the mountains and home?
For the next two months winter held Maggie’s valley in its grasp. Snow piled high in the valley and higher still in the mountains. Herds of mule deer and antelope could be seen daily foraging in the relative safety of the valley floor where the summer grass, that had grown long and thick, now lay buried under a carpet of white. Cha
z and Maggie returned to their daily routines of mending, and repairing things. On the warmer days they worked in the barn checking over equipment and tack for the spring planting.
Maggie had brought back seed and knew that when the weather broke they would both be busy preparing for the summer and autumn harvest. Each morning she would lift her eyes to the snow covered peeks that cradled her little home in their grasp and tried to draw strength from them.
Each night she worked on teaching Chaz to read and read the Bible with him trying to draw comfort from its words. Her heart ached, and no matter how hard they tried to fill it with work and chores, Jason Danvers had left a huge empty space in their little home as well as in her heart.
Spring took its time coming but little by little the snows thinned and receded grudgingly to the warmer winds of March and then the gentle breezes of April. Maggie woke one morning to find five Indian braves at her door step offering to trade for what goods she could offer.
They’d brought hides and colorful woven blankets as well as beautifully polished colored stones in many hues. The long winter had been hard on them and they needed food for their children and elders. Maggie traded much of her meal and oats and provided cheeses that she’d made from the goat’s milk, and even some of their surplus root vegetables. She learned that the little tribe raised sheep and goats on the other side of the mountain and that tucked away from the majority of white people kept to themselves and lived peacefully.
It was good to see others and although their faces were stoic, she found that she respected this isolated group of natives and tried to befriend them. She decided she would do her best for them as long as they were willing to call her friend. Even taking the time to find out what type of items they might need in the future and promising to get what she could in Sawbrush on her next visit.
Chapter 15
In Sawbrush, although the winter was no harsher than many before it for one man in particular it was the bitterest winter he had ever encountered. At first he thought he was doing alright. He threw himself into making sure that Sawbrush was peaceful until a sheriff could be elected. Billy Vane had made it clear that there were no hard feelings about his brother and that he himself had known nothing about the situation except that he didn’t approve of the men that Donovan had been hiring on. He was too busy running the ranch and keeping the cattle alive to pay attention to his brother.
One evening he even admitted that he had sometimes suspected that his brother was mad. “Ma never would say no to him about nothin’.” He said one night over a beer. “She doted on him and give him everything he ever wanted even if it was something he shouldn’t a’ had. When I saw what he did to that woman; bringing her home like that.” He shook his head, still shocked beyond comprehension.
“Well, he was my brother, and I’ll grieve him in my own way, but there’ll be no trouble from me or my hands. I’ve turned them toughs Donavan had hired loose with a fair wage and hope to never see them around these parts again.”
With that Billy had offered his hand and the Marshall had taken it. Billy was a man most of the town’s people barely knew but little by little they were beginning to understand he was nothing like his brother and were giving him their respect.
Each day Jason rode out to the surrounding farms to check on the community and see that none of the ‘toughs’ as Billy had called them had stayed around to cause trouble. He’d roll out of bed at the crack of dawn, saddle up and be gone until well past dark, often working alongside the farmers and settlers to help them prepare for spring.
He’d even had to purchase two more horses to spare the gray the hard riding, but each night when he turned in, as tired and sore as his horse, he couldn’t sleep. Emotions raged inside of him like a tempest, and he couldn’t find any peace. Finally, as spring began to seep its way into the town and prairie he finally had to admit that he was doing himself and his horses no go with his constant roaming.
He’d been out to see the Smith’s on the far reaches of what he considered Sawbrush land when Mr. Smith asked him what he was doing there. “I don’t mean no offense Marshall but don’t you think you done wore out enough horse shoes by now, keepin’ an eye on us? We all seem to be just fine, but you’re looking like you might blow away in a strong wind.” So that afternoon, before the sun was even reaching for the far peeks, he turned his horse for the town.
Jason had just entered the outskirts of his little town when he spotted a man in a black coat crossing the street, his nose so deep in a book, that he almost walked right into the gray’s shoulder. “Whoa.” He called pulling on the reins and swinging the horse out of the way as the stranger lifted his eyes in surprise. “Oh!” The man squeaked, he had a narrow face and was thin, but not spindly. His head twitched upward tilting slightly to look at him and for a moment Jason couldn’t help but think of a sparrow. “Sorry, bout that Mr.” Jason said, patting his horses neck. “You alright?”
“Oh, I’m fine, I’m afraid it was all my fault” the stranger said. “I know better than to be reading in the street like that but I was just going over some words by John Westley about faith, and completely lost myself. I’m Jacob Turner by the way. The parson. I don’t believe we’ve met.”
For a moment Jason’s eyes flashed, anger boiling up in him at this so called man of God, then he realized that Mr. Turner had done nothing to him and he extended his hand. “Jason Danvers. I’m the Marshall here and I don’t hold much truck with churches.”
“Well plenty of folks don’t but that’s neither here, nor there. Now how about you step down and I’ll buy you a cup of coffee since I seem to have inconvenienced you?” he offered again turning his head like a sparrow eyeing the sky.
To his own surprise Jason found himself agreeing, and swung down off of his mount to walk the rest of the way to the hotel with the parson. He was surprised even more when he found himself one week later having coffee with the willowy preacher man again and the following week as well.
“Now that just doesn’t make any sense at all.” Jason said as he walked along the street with Jacob Turner nearly three weeks later. “Everyone knows you gotta be good to get to heaven. If you sin you get punished and bad things happen.”
“I suppose being good is important but none of us are always good are we?”
Jason thought about that for a minute then nodded. “No, even good people do bad things sometimes, but most people aren’t really evil.”
“No but that doesn’t mean that people who are good are really God’s children. The Bible says that ‘All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.’ That means that even good people won’t go to heaven no matter how good they are.”
“That just doesn’t seem right. If you’re good you should go to heaven and if your bad and one of those sinners you’re always talking about, you should be punished.”
“Jason, we don’t become one of God’s children by being good. We can only become one of His children when we acknowledge that He’s our heavenly father. Were you only good for your father because you were afraid he’d punish you?”
“No, though he would if I needed it, but I also wanted to make him proud so when I came to understand what was right I tried to do that.”
“That’s how it is with God. He loves us like children and he wants us to do what’s right because we understand it makes him happy. He knows that there are things in this world that can hurt us and He wants to protect us from them but if we don’t know Him, how can He protect us?”
Jason, pondered the words for a long time. Knowing God: was it really possible? To him God had always been that entity that started the world but just left it to each person to make their own way. Could someone powerful enough to create the whole world truly care about a tiny thing like him?
Over the next couple of weeks as spring crept into Sawbrush. Jason Danvers’ thoughts churned. His heart longed to ride out after Maggie but his soul troubled him. He was torn and knew that something had to be done about it. He was ri
ding back to town after checking on a new group of settlers one afternoon when he stopped at a stream to water his horse. As he sat in the saddle he looked around him at the new life that was just peeking out of a new spring. Trees were in bud, new grass was pushing through the still cold earth.
Flowers dotted the prairie and birds sang in the branches of the cotton woods that stretched across the stream. In the water’s clear depths, he could see fish swimming and a strange peace he’d never known before encompassed him. If every little detail could be seen to here on this earth; All of these things, then why no me. Why can’t I be important as well? Still sitting his saddle, he took his hat off of his head, raising his eyes to the heavens and right there he accepted that a mighty and powerful God could love him.
Chapter 16
Maggie stood and stretched her back. She and Chaz had been working in the kitchen garden getting the planting done and she felt stiff from bending over. A bright flash of light caught her eye to the north and shading her eyes from the bright spring sunshine she tried to see the entrance to the valley. Again she caught a flash of light and tapped Chaz on the shoulder. He turned and gazed across the valley at what Maggie was looking at.
“Looks like someone’s comin’” He commented carefully studying his friend and partner’s face. “You want me to ride on out and see who it is?”
“No. We’ll wait.” At this point she noticed that the horses in the corral had also turned to gaze at rider as he steadily approached, a string of mules stretched out behind him. Then the big gray gelding broke out of the shadow cast by the mountain and Maggie gasped, her hand straying to her throat in astonishment. “Mr. Danvers.” She whispered.
“Yer right.” Chaz echoed excitement in his voice and before she could say anything else he’d dashed to the corral, thrown a halter over Clara’s head and riding bare back dashed out to meet the lawman.