by Janice Hanna
Anne swallowed the lump in her throat. “This is a horrible confession, but I’m not sure I’ve ever known a man I respected less than my father, at least in the last few years of his life. Is that terrible?”
“Oh?” Jake looked at her with concern registering in his eyes. “Why is that?”
“My father…” She bit back the sigh that threatened to erupt. “He had a lot of problems in his final years. If I’m going to be completely honest, I can’t really blame all of them on him. He didn’t handle my mother’s death well. He…well, he turned to alcohol.”
She waited to see if Jake would respond negatively, but he did not. Still, the conversation made her nervous. Anne took a couple of steps away and paused to clear her thoughts. She finally turned back to Jake.
“Papa’s drinking had always been a bit of a problem, but he gave himself over to it in the end. I can’t tell you how awful it was to witness such a thing firsthand. He became a completely different person when he was drinking.”
Jake gave her a sympathetic look. “Grief does strange things to people, doesn’t it?” He drew near.
“Yes, and many times I remind myself of that. Still, most of the time I realize that he chose to grieve with a bottle of whiskey in hand. Or bourbon. Or vodka. No one made him. And he had three daughters who needed him. If I were him…” She shook her head. “I would have made a wiser choice.”
“That’s because you’re always thinking of others.” “I am?”
The sound of children’s voices rang out again, and she glanced toward them to make sure they were still at a distance. Emily had Willy by the shirt and appeared to be giving him a piece of her mind.
Jake nodded. “Well, sure. I’ve never met anyone who’s as dedicated to her family as you. I can’t believe others haven’t pointed it out to you. You’re completely devoted to your sisters, and I find that admirable. They’re blessed to have you.”
Anne’s heart swelled. Truly, no one had ever taken note of her devotion to her sisters before. It felt mighty good that someone had actually noticed.
“What about you?” Anne asked. “You’ve been there for your mom every step of the way. If anyone understands that sort of dedication, I do.”
A smile lit his face. “You don’t think I’m a mama’s boy?”
“A mama’s boy?” Anne fought to keep her surprise from showing. “Is that what people say you are? Because you’re there for your mother?”
“Yep.” He nodded. “It’s a running joke in my family and with people in town. They think I’m staying because she cooks and cleans. They just don’t understand.”
“No, they don’t. You could no more leave her alone than I could leave Emily and Kate to fend for themselves. The very idea is ridiculous.” She smiled as Jake reached over and laced his fingers through hers. “Just goes to show you that people don’t understand the word ‘dedication.’ If they did, they would see that we’re both acting out of love, not selfishness.”
“Well, there’s a little selfishness on my part.” Jake offered a sheepish grin. “I do love my mother’s cooking. The last time I tried to fry up some sliced potatoes, I nearly caught the house on fire. Not to mention the fact that I cut my finger slicing them.”
She did her best not to laugh. “That’s another thing. I’ve never learned to cook. Even when Mama was alive, we always had a cook.” She paused as the memories swept over her.
He took a couple of steps toward her, and Anne reflected on how comfortable his nearness felt.
“These past few months have been the hardest of all. Papa drank away our money. At least that’s what Uncle Bertrand claims. It must be true, because one day the butler wasn’t there. Then the cook left. Sadie, our maid, stayed with us until the end. But I knew she wasn’t getting paid. She stayed because she loved us so much.”
“Was your father ill during this time?”
“Yes.” She cringed as she remembered how thin he’d gotten, how sallow his face had become. “The last several months were terrible. He took to his bed more often than not. And we rarely saw him eat anything. He always managed to have a bottle on the bedside table, though.”
“Anne, I’m so sorry.” Jake drew so close that she could feel his breath in her hair. “You’ve been through so much.”
“So have you. You lost your father too.”
“Yes, but both parents? And with all you went through with your father… My heart goes out to you.”
“Losing my father was terrible, but I must confess that losing my mother was even harder. There are times when I miss her so much that it hurts.” Anne reached for the little cross she always wore, her heart rate steadying as she took hold of it. “It doesn’t seem right that I shouldn’t be able to remember her like I used to. It’s almost like a photograph that fades over time. You can still see the outline of it, and you remember it in part…but it’s not quite as clear as it once was.”
“Maybe forgetting helps to ease the pain.” Jake shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just that we’re so distracted by the here and now that yesterday’s memories are crowded out.”
“That could be, I suppose. I just know I feel guilty for forgetting. And yet I want to look ahead, not back, if that makes sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. Your mother would want you to look ahead, Anne.”
Anne gripped the tiny cross necklace and lifted it so that he could see. “This was hers. I wear it to remember who she was.”
“I’m sure she would be thrilled to see you wearing her cross, but I don’t think she wants you to actually carry that cross. Does that make sense?”
“Carry the cross?” Anne looked at him, perplexed.
“The cross of grief,” he said. “It’s far too heavy. I only know of One who can carry something of such magnitude.”
Anne smiled as the reality of his words settled into her heart. “You’re right, of course. I’ve been trying to carry the cross as if it were a huge burden. But it’s not mine to carry.”
“Precisely. Can you let it go?”
She fingered the cross around her neck. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. “Oh, Jake. Maybe that’s why I’ve been given the gift of this little cross, to remind me that God wants to carry my burdens—that I can’t do it alone.”
“Could be.”
He slipped his arm across her shoulders, and she leaned her head against his. In that blissful state, she finally found herself ready to let go of the pain of the past. Funny how a stranger from Groom, Texas, had prepared her heart to finally let go.
Jake enjoyed the quiet embrace with Anne, but on the inside he found himself feeling very conflicted. You’re such a hypocrite, giving advice so freely when there are so many things you’re still holding onto.
After a moment, Anne gazed into his eyes. “Is something wrong? You’re very quiet.”
“Just thinking.” He paused and released a breath slowly. “I told you how much my father loved this ranch.”
“Yes.”
“My brothers…” He paused and gestured to the yard where Emily and the others played. “My brothers have carried on his legacy. They’ve kept the ranch running and have made a fine living for their families. And Mama will never have to worry about money.”
“And you?”
He leaned back against the fence. “I’m a horse of a different color. That’s what my father always called me, anyway. Never really cared for ranching. From the time I was a boy, I had a fascination with the railroad. I’d sketch pictures of the cars and even designed my own engines. So I guess it didn’t surprise anyone when I decided to sign on with the railroad. And I’ve loved every minute of it.”
“Do you travel?”
“I’ve been to Tulsa—and to Dallas.”
Right away, her expression shifted. She whispered the word “Dallas” and his heart plummeted. She would be leaving for Dallas…soon.
“Anyway, I’ve been several places. Hope to one day get to Missouri. That’s where my mother is from.”
“So I’ve been told. I heard all about how she wished she could have gone back for the World’s Fair several years ago. But she had a houseful of children to tend to.”
“Oh, I hear that story quite a bit. And I’m sure St. Louis is a wonderful city. Like I said, I’d love to travel there. But I feel pretty sure nothing will ever compare to the Panhandle.”
“Now you sound like Emily. She picked up a tourist paper about the Panhandle when the train stopped in Amarillo.”
“The Panhandle Primer?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s the one. Seems like that Tex Morgan fellow is enamored with this area. The article I read was a bit exaggerated.”
“Oh, he sings the praises of the Panhandle, to be sure. But he’s right on every count. There’s no finer place in the country.”
“Do tell.”
“I will.” He squared his shoulders. “We have some of the best lakes in the state. And the ruins over near Wolf Creek tell of our history. But if you’re really wanting the breath knocked out of you, you’ll have to go to the canyon.”
“The canyon?”
“Palo Duro Canyon. There’s not a prettier sight in the world.”
She shook her head. “Never heard of it.”
“Hmm.” He thought about his response. “Well then, we’ll have to remedy that. What are you doing this afternoon?”
She shrugged. “Most of our work for the day is done. Tomorrow morning we’re working on garlands for the wedding. All your brothers’ wives are coming over to help.”
“Perfect.” He could hardly believe his good fortune. “How would you like to go for a drive to the most scenic spot in the Panhandle?”
“Right now?”
“Sure, why not? It’s early in the day. Not even ten thirty. And I know the most perfect spot in the world for a picnic. You’ve never seen anything like it.” When she hesitated, he added, “You can bring your sisters if you’d like. They could serve as our chaperones.”
“We need chaperones?” She quirked a brow and gave him the cutest smile he’d ever seen.
If you keep looking at me like that, yes.
“Wait a minute. This is Thursday. Don’t you have to work?”
He shook his head. “Nope. We put in so many hours the past few days that we were told to take the rest of today off as well as tomorrow.”
“Wonderful.”
“I couldn’t agree more. So, what do you say?”
She offered a shy smile. “I say yes, of course. Let’s go!”
From a distance, Emily’s voice rang out. “Are you two going to stand there all day mooning over each other?”
He shrugged and offered Anne his arm; then the two of them walked toward Milly and Joseph’s place together.
Chapter Nineteen
Still not convinced that the Texas Panhandle is the place for you? Then you surely haven’t witnessed the grandeur of Palo Duro Canyon, a sixty-mile-long canyon carved out of the majestic high plains of north Texas. Eight hundred feet deep, the canyon offers breathtaking cliffs ribboned with nature’s finest colors: fiery red, sunny yellow, brilliant purple, and cotton-cloud white. In this inspiring place, you can enjoy Texas’s flora and fauna at its finest: abundant patches of redberry juniper await you along with my personal favorite—the hardy mesquite tree. Majestic sunflowers line the slopes of the clay canyon with prickly pear cacti offering a colorful contrast. I’ve heard it said that the good Lord above carved out Palo Duro Canyon with His fingertip, leaving behind just the right splash of colors. What else could account for such a work of art? Just one more reason to see the Texas Panhandle in person. —“Tex” Morgan, reporting for the Panhandle Primer
Milly somehow convinced Emily and Kate to stay at the ranch and play with the other children, which left Anne and Jake free to travel to the canyon by themselves. When Maggie offered to go along as chaperone, Jake looked as if he might be ill. However, it turned out she was only teasing.
“You two go on and have a good time,” she said. “And while you’re there, see if you can pick some wildflowers. Those garlands may need a bit of filler.” She filled a picnic basket with enough goodies for a wonderful lunch and then sent them on their way with a hint of mischief in her eyes. Uncle Bertrand seemed to be acting a little odd as well. He actually offered Anne a smile. A genuine one. Would wonders never cease?
By noon, Anne and Jake were on their way to Palo Duro Canyon in the family’s truck. They enjoyed pleasant conversation, talking about the plans for the wedding and then shifting gears to talk about Jake’s work with the railroad. The hour’s drive passed quickly, though Anne’s stomach did rumble a bit as she thought about the chicken salad sandwiches Maggie had packed. Of course, the motion in her stomach was nothing compared to the fluttering in her heart every time Jake looked her way.
“Are you sure these are canyon lands?” Anne asked when Jake announced that they were getting close. I don’t see anything… Oh!” A glance to her right revealed a break in the terrain. Slowly but surely a ribbonlike canyon appeared. And as the truck began to travel down, down, down the road into the canyon, the wonder of nature appeared at every turn.
“Oh, Jake! I’ve never seen anything like it. Not ever.”
He smiled but kept his eye on the road. “I thought you might like it.”
“Like it? I love it!”
He continued the descent until they arrived at the lowest possible point. He pulled the car off next to the creek then climbed out and walked around to her side to open the door for her. Anne wasn’t sure which impressed her more—the glimmer in his eye or the beautiful surroundings.
She allowed him to take her hand, and he led her down the narrow path toward the water’s edge.
“This is Palo Duro Creek,” he said. “It links arms with the Red River.”
Anne looked out over the narrow strip of water, which was surrounded on both sides by red clay. “I think I can see where the Red River gets its name.”
“Yes, there’s a lot of color down here in the canyon. That’s one reason I like to come in the afternoon and stay through sunset. You’re not going to believe how pretty this is in just a few hours. I will say, though, that you don’t want to be down here when it rains.”
“Why is that?”
“This area is prone to flash floods. I once got trapped as the water from the creeks and rivers began to rise. Barely made it back up the road. It put the fear of God into me.”
“No doubt.” She paused and drew in a breath. “But on a day like today, when everything is sunny and bright, it’s perfect.”
“Glad you think so.” He gave her hand a squeeze then reached up and brushed a loose hair out of her face. “There,” he whispered. “Don’t want anything to block those beautiful brown eyes.”
She felt her face grow hot and quickly looked the other way. “Are—are you getting hungry? We could set up a picnic spot here by the creek. It’s nice and quiet.”
“I would love that.”
They worked together to spread a blanket. Jake pulled the picnic basket from the back of the truck and Anne opened it. Her delight grew when she saw that Maggie had packed not only sandwiches but lemonade and homemade cookies as well.
“It’s a feast fit for a king,” Anne announced, settling onto the blanket.
“For a king and queen,” Jake corrected.
Her heart seemed to come alive every time he looked her way, and she felt young and giddy. And a little nervous too. She almost dropped the bottle of lemonade. “Oops.”
“Here, let me help with that.” Jake reached for the glasses and poured them, his hand steady. Anne marveled at his composure. Either he was more confident, or he did a better job of hiding his nerves.
For nearly two hours they sat at the creek’s edge, eating, talking, and laughing. In that glorious place, Anne felt herself transported. No longer was she the woman carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. No, in this place she was free to be Anne—Anne, who happened to be crazy over a boy name
d Jake.
The afternoon hours at Palo Duro Canyon passed far too quickly for Jake’s liking. He wanted this day to stretch out as long as the Red River itself. What would he do, just a few days from now, when Anne left? His heart twisted every time he thought about it.
And so he did his best not to think about it. Not today, when anything seemed possible.
By five o’clock he had driven to most of his favorite spots in the canyon and they’d picked enough wildflowers to finish off the garlands. That meant there was only one spot left to go—his favorite lookout point. He drove as far as the road would take them then took her by the hand and climbed the rest of the way to the bluff.
While they made the journey, Jake gripped her hand as if it might be the last time. Many times he found himself wishing he would never have to let go.
All too soon they reached the spot. “Turn to your right,” he whispered.
As she turned to face the colorful mesa walls, Anne released a little gasp. “Oh, Jake! I—I hardly know what to say.”
“It’s something else, isn’t it?” He slipped his arm around her waist, and they stood side by side.
“I’ve truly never seen anything of this magnitude in my life. Those colors. And that stone wall. It’s unbelievable.” She paused, and her eyes filled with tears. “Doesn’t it just overwhelm you to think that people have stood on this very spot for hundreds of years, looking out at this magnificent view? And here we are, drinking it in. It’s lovely.”
“Yes, the canyon has a rich history,” Jake said. “Lots of people have come through here. In fact, a very famous battle took place right here in the canyon back in ’74.”
“The sort Emily would want to write about?” She turned and gazed into his eyes, almost causing him to forget the story he’d been telling.
“Oh yes. Lots of Indians—Comanche, Cheyenne, and even Kiowa. They’d come to the canyon to seek refuge and had been stockpiling food and other supplies to get them through the winter. The 4th US Cavalry made their move up from the south, hoping to trap them in the canyon.”