The Braxtons of Miracle Springs

by Michael Phillips

  “Do you really believe in angels?” asked Tad, as if the thought had never occurred to him.

  “You bet I do, Tad,” replied Christopher. “And I believe God wants us to ask him to send angels to help us. You’ve heard of guardian angels?”

  “You mean those angel-women with wings you see in picture books? Sure, but I always figured they were just for little kids and babies in cradles.”

  “We’re all babies in cradles, Tad,” smiled Christopher. “This whole world is our cradle. It’s just that the older we get, the less we realize it. No, guardian angels are for all men and women. That’s their job, to guard and protect us. We only need to ask, and God will send them about their work. When we pray these things—asking God for protection, asking him to build a hedge around us to keep out the devil and send his angels to guard us—we can know that he hears and will answer our requests. The Old Testament tells of a time when the Israelites looked out over the battlefield and saw the warrior angels fighting for them.”

  We all took in Christopher’s words.

  “How do you know so much about these kinds of things?” asked Tad.

  Christopher laughed lightly. “I spent a good many years studying them. It was my profession, remember. I was supposed to know about spiritual things to help the people in my churches. Of course, knowing them and experiencing them by practice are two different things. I don’t know about God’s protection because I studied about it, but because I’ve learned how to pray for protection in my own life.”

  He paused.

  “But I don’t think your Pa wants to hear about that right now,” he added. “I’ll tell you all about it later, Tad, if you want. Right now we need to pray and then get on our way.”

  “Go on ahead, Christopher,” said Pa. “What you just said is new to me, and I’m curious to know more. But you’re right about us needing to get a move on. So for the time being you pray, and we’re all in agreement with you.”

  Christopher nodded. He and Pa were back to the way it had long been between them, trusting each other completely. It warmed my heart to see it after the dispute that had erupted earlier.

  “Our Father,” Christopher prayed, “we ask for your protection. Encircle our dear loved ones round about with a hedge as is said you did for your servant Job. Undergird them with your one hand and cover them over with your other. Send your guardian angels to stand round those two homes as mighty invisible warriors for truth, repelling any advance against them by the enemy. Keep the man Harris at a good distance, and let no harm come to them.”

  Christopher paused, but only momentarily.

  “And now, Lord,” he went on, “we pray for your protection for ourselves as well. Guide our way as we return. Send your angels to go before us. Watch over us, make straight our paths, protect our animals from misstep.”

  Again he paused.

  “There is yet one more thing we need to pray for,” he said. “We mustn’t forget the Lord’s injunction—we are commanded to pray for our enemies.”

  The silence which followed was deep. Now that lives were in danger, what we had done months earlier took on a whole new meaning. It hadn’t been easy for Pa to pray for that man back then. Now it was really hard. Yet every one among us knew well enough that Christopher was right. If we couldn’t obey the Lord’s commands in the crucible of trial, then I don’t suppose it meant very much that we did them when everything was pleasant.

  There was barely flame left in the fire. We all stared into it, mesmerized by the small flickers struggling to keep going. It was Pa’s voice that broke the silence.

  “Well, Lord,” he said, “I don’t claim that it’s an easy thing to do, but I’m gonna summon what little willpower I’ve got to pray again for Jesse Harris. I don’t especially like doing it. But if you told us to, then I figure there’s gotta be a good reason. So I pray for him, and I pray that you’d do whatever you’ve got a mind to do with him. In the meantime, show us what we’re supposed to do about him, because right now I can’t see how I can pray for good to come to him on the one hand and go down out of here and try to keep him from killing me and my son on the other. If you’ve got some way to do both, I reckon you’ll have to show me. That’s about it, Lord . . . amen.”

  I hadn’t even realized it, but sometime during Pa’s prayer we had all taken hands, and now we sat in a circle around the fire with our hands in one another’s—me and Christopher, Pa, Tad, Uncle Nick, Erich, Zack, and back to me.

  A few quiet amens followed from the rest of us.

  “There is one of the Psalms,” said Christopher, “which is a beautiful promise from God about the many ways in which he will protect his people. I memorized it long ago and say it whenever I am facing any kind of anxious circumstance—both as a prayer offered to God and as a reminder of his promise. I would like to say it now, as our way of committing what follows into his hands. Join in with me as you can. Most of it will be familiar to you.”

  Then Christopher began, and we sat there, the six of us hand in hand, staring into what was now merely a pile of glowing embers, quietly saying aloud together the words of the ninety-first Psalm.

  “He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty,” Christopher began. “I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God. In him will I trust.”

  I joined in with him as best I could, and soon the others were voicing out the familiar promises.

  “Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the evil that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday.

  “A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked. Because thou hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; There shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.”

  Christopher paused.

  “The psalm ends,” he said, “as from the mouth of God himself, speaking out his personal promise to those who give their lives into his care. As we say these words, try to remember that our Father is actually saying this to us right now at this fearful time.”

  He took a breath, then continued.

  “Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. He shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and shew him my salvation.”

  “Amen,” said Pa, after a brief silence.

  “And now, Lord, we commit our way to you,” added Christopher.

  We released hands and stood. Uncle Nick kicked at the fire with his boot. The boys joined him, and soon we were left with only smoke ascending in the glow of the moon.

  We turned and walked to the waiting horses, then mounted up. Pa took the lead, and the rest of us followed him back in the general direction from which we had come.

  Chapter 50

  Out of the Mountains

  The going all night was slow.

  I became so sleepy on and off that I could hardly prevent my eyes from closing. Yet somehow you manage to do what needs to be done, and somehow I managed to stay in the saddle.

  Every time we’d stop for water or a rest, I would lay down and sleep for five or ten minutes. That made starting up again all the more difficult, but it helped me get through the night.

  We stopped around three or four in the Bear River vall
ey. Everyone was exhausted by then, and Pa said we needed to get some sleep. I had hardly rolled out my blanket and plopped down before I was out like a lump of rock. The men took the heavy sides of bear meat off the pack horses and hung it high up in some trees away from camp, but I didn’t hear or see them do it. I didn’t hear or think a thing until suddenly I woke up several hours later.

  It was light. A cloud cover had drifted in. I found myself squinting about in a cold, gray, damp, dreary dawn. The others were stirring. Pa was standing over a small fire, holding a cup. I smelled coffee. Beside me, Christopher was still asleep, breathing deeply.

  Pa saw I was awake.

  “Time to be at it, Corrie Belle,” he said. “Like some coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you, Pa,” I said, sitting up.

  He brought me a cup of the steaming black brew he had made. I sipped at it. It was strong and bitter, but I knew I needed something to wake me up and get me through this day, so I gradually drank down the whole cup. By then everyone else was either up or close to it and also getting down what quantities of Pa’s coffee they could.

  I don’t know if Pa had slept at all that night, because by the time the rest of us were up, the horses were saddled and the bear was already loaded back onto the pack animals.

  No one mentioned breakfast. Obviously we were all hungry by this time, but there were more important things on our minds, and we were anxious to be off.

  As we rode, every once in a while Pa and Uncle Nick would draw close together and talk for a bit, sometimes with Zack and Tad, or sometimes the two boys would ride side by side talking intently. I knew they were all talking about what to do once we got back to Miracle Springs.

  They obviously had some kind of plan, but I didn’t know what it was.

  After crossing the Bear, Pa increased the pace, and we rode hard the rest of the early morning. We arrived at the top of the foothill ridge above our place sometime around nine-thirty or ten.

  Pa reined in. We all did likewise and stood in a group, waiting for what he would tell us to do.

  Pa dismounted.

  “I think we oughta walk from here,” he said. “We can’t risk the horses getting jittery or making too much noise.”

  “Let’s leave the horses here, Pa,” suggested Zack. “Tad and I’ll come back for them later.”

  “It’s a mite far yet,” said Uncle Nick. “A mountain lion comes along and gets a whiff of that bear, he could kill every one of the horses.”

  The others nodded.

  “All right,” said Pa, “we’ll walk them on down as close as we dare, then tie them up. The closer we get, the less likely there’ll be any varmints prowling about. But it’s a chance we have to take. The families are more important than the horses.”

  We each took the reins of our mounts and began slowly down the final incline through the forest. No one uttered a peep. The only sounds were the hooves over the ground and occasional snorts.

  Finally, Pa became nervous about the tramping noises through the dry underbrush on the ground.

  “This’ll have to be as far as they go,” he said. “We’ll have to go the rest of the way ourselves and hope they’re all right.”

  We tied our horses to trees and branches. Then the men got their rifles, cocked them, and made sure they were loaded.

  All except Christopher.

  He and I looked at each other in silence. He had never been in a situation like this before. I think for the first time the difference struck him between the tame East and the wild West. I knew he was praying that none of the weapons would have to be used.

  Chapter 51

  Devising a Risky Plan

  We reached Uncle Nick and Aunt Katie’s place safely, set as it was so far from our house and the road.

  “Oh, Nick!” exclaimed Aunt Katie when we walked in, then she ran, throwing her arms around him, and then gave Erich a hug.

  “Almeda and the others all right?” asked Pa.

  “I think so,” she answered. “He hasn’t bothered us. He’s just kept us from going anywhere. He’s just sitting there waiting for you.”

  “Where is he, Katie?” Uncle Nick asked.

  “On the top of that little hill across the creek from your place, Drum—you know, that clearing where the children used to play?”

  Pa nodded.

  “From there he can see the road in both directions, your house, and up the hill this way.

  “Why didn’t you send one of the kids through the woods to Little Wolf’s for help?” Uncle Nick asked.

  “That awful man said he was watching both houses, and if we tried anything he’d shoot first and ask questions later. I was afraid, Nick. What if he’d have seen them?”

  Uncle Nick nodded, then glanced back at Pa.

  Pa and Uncle Nick looked at each other, obviously thinking.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” sighed Pa. “He’d have a clear shot at us however we came.”

  “How we gonna get the drop on him there, Drum?” said Uncle Nick. “We’d have to circle back south halfway to town to sneak up on him from the other side.”

  “I’m thinking more that we need to make some provision for Almeda and Becky and Ruth,” said Pa. “If we circle around like you say, that leaves him between us and them. He spots us, he could make for the house and hole up there with them inside as hostages. Somehow, I gotta get to the house while he’s still where he is.”

  “If you make for the house, Drum, he’ll spot you.”

  “And shoot you!” added Katie. “I know that’s what he’s thinking. You can see it in his eyes. We’ve all been so scared!”

  “Don’t blame you,” said Uncle Nick. “We both rode with him, remember. We know what kind of vermin he is.”

  “How about if we circle around south, like Uncle Nick said,” offered Zack, now adding his suggestions to the plan, “while you, Pa, go up behind the mine and circle down through the woods and try to get to the old barn.”

  “That’s the direction I went to get away,” I said.

  “Then you could make for the house,” Zack went on. “If he spotted you or tried to shoot, we’d fire in the air or distract him some way.”

  Pa thought for a moment.

  “What you say makes sense, son. Yeah, it does—’cause I gotta get to the house before we do anything foolish that sets him off shooting.”

  “What about the sheriff?” asked Aunt Katie. “Almeda tried to ride into town, but—”

  “Corrie told us,” said Pa. “Yeah, we also gotta find some way to get Rafferty out here. It looks like he’s got one more prisoner to take in for his jail before he thinks any more about giving up the law for the life of a rancher.”

  “I could ride into town,” said Christopher. “If it comes to a shoot-out, I won’t do you any good anyway.”

  “Good, thanks—that’s it,” said Pa, his face lighting up as he suddenly saw the pieces of a workable plan fit together. “The three of you—Nick, Zack, and Christopher—you circle through the foothills from here, work your way below Little Wolf’s and south. When you get to the road, Christopher—we can’t risk a horse, he’d hear it—you make for town on foot—”

  “I’ll sprint the whole way.”

  “Right. You get Rafferty, tell him what’s going on out here. Nick, you and Zack then work your way back up behind Harris.”

  “What about me, Pa?” asked Tad.

  “You’re coming with me around the north end,” replied Pa. “I may need you to cover me or get a message back to Zack and Nick.”

  “And me, Pa?” I said.

  “What are you asking me for?”

  I glanced at Christopher.

  “Aren’t you staying here with Katie?” he said, incredulous that there was even any question about it. I don’t suppose he yet knew everything about me and my propensity for jumping into the middle of things!

  “I want to go, too. I want to help.”

  “Then go with your father,” said Christopher. “But stay behind him. I don
’t want you in any danger.”

  “What are we gonna do supposing you get to the house without being spotted, Drum?” asked Uncle Nick. “You want me and Zack to take him from behind?”

  “No. If I get to the house and you have him covered, then our immediate danger’s past. He’s not going to hurt any of the women then. So we wait for Rafferty. You’ll be watching for him, and when he comes up the road from town you can tell him how things stand. Let him handle it from there. He can arrest Harris, and we’ll be done with it.”

  Everyone looked around.

  “You all know what to do?” asked Pa.

  Nods followed.

  “Then, let’s go.”

  Chapter 52

  A Dash for the House

  It was probably thirty or forty minutes later when Pa, Tad, and I reached the edge of the woods across the little creek from our pasture. We could see the stables and the old barn less than a hundred yards away. Beyond it stood the house.

  All was quiet.

  We’d heard not so much as a peep from any direction as we slowly and carefully worked our way above the old mine, then down between it and the new mine to where we presently stood. Where Uncle Nick and Zack and Christopher were we hadn’t an idea, but we hoped they were in position south of Demming—or Harris—by now, with Christopher running into town.

  Pa looked over the situation.

  “I think I see him there,” said Pa, squinting into the distance. “You make anything out, Tad, there off behind the roof of the barn, on that rise where Katie said?”

  “Can’t be sure, Pa—I might see him.”

  “Hmm . . . I think—if we get down low and stay behind the old barn, we may be able to keep out of his line of sight.”

  Pa worked his way twenty or thirty yards west along the creek until he was in position. We followed.