The Cowboy Tutor

by Linda Ford

  Sadly it seemed Judd was right. George used people to his own advantage.

  “I’m sorry,” George murmured. “I had expected to sell our belongings and have a little cash left over. It simply hasn’t worked that way. I’ve made a mess of things for so many people. It seems I can add you to the list.”

  He sounded so contrite, she almost changed her mind. But no. He had cheated her.

  Madge mumbled something completely unintelligible and staggered from the house. She climbed into her car and headed home. The mortgage payment was still due. She had to figure out a way to make up the deficit. If only she could talk this over with someone. But she didn’t want to worry Mother. And Judd…well, Judd still hung about watching the house. He’d likely only point out that this confirmed his opinion of George.

  She wished she could believe it didn’t.

  She pulled to the side of the road a short way from town and leaned over the steering wheel. Lord God, why is this happening? Don’t You care that we could lose our house?

  She recalled Grace’s gentle voice. All things work together for good.

  She didn’t see how it was possible this time.

  Lifting her head, she looked about and saw she had stopped within feet of the Cotton lane. Would Judd be there? She longed to be pulled into his arms and cradled against his chest, knowing her worries would diminish in his embrace.

  Torn by her loyalty to and fondness of Grace, her disappointment and uncertainty about George and her hungry love for Judd, she couldn’t think straight.

  Before she could consider her actions or change her mind, she turned into the side road and drove toward the Cotton place.

  Judd sat on the front step contemplating his choices—to continue with his quest to bring George to justice, and in so doing hurt another defenseless woman, or let it go, and in effect say what happened to his mother was of no consequence. Then there was the possibility that, unchecked, George would persist in his evil ways, and another innocent woman would end up hurt.

  He buried his head in his hands. His plan had seemed simple and straightforward to start with. Now it had become tangled until he couldn’t think straight.

  At the sound of an approaching vehicle, he jerked to his feet. Someone might take objection to his trespassing. He jumped from the step and headed for the barn, where he might hope to remain hidden, though his car stood beside the shed and his belongings lay scattered about the kitchen.

  He ducked out of sight before the vehicle reached the yard and pressed to the wall, straining to hear. The car drew to a halt. The motor died and quiet rang in his ears. Then footsteps sounded, and the door squeaked open. He held his breath, waiting for what would come next.

  “Judd, are you here?”

  Madge. His breath whooshed out at the sound of the familiar voice, and then his lungs refused to work. Madge. If he could just pull her into his arms and explain everything, he would feel a thousand times better.

  He burst from the barn. “Madge, I’m here.”

  She raced straight toward him. He saw the eager longing on her face and broke into a jog, meeting her halfway across the yard. He opened his arms and she came into them, just like a horse headed for the open doors of a familiar barn. He pressed her close, her hot breath against his chest.

  She shuddered.

  “Madge, what’s wrong?”

  “Everything,” she mumbled, clinging to him in a way that made him want to keep her forever close to his heart. “Nothing.”

  He chuckled. “‘Nothing’ doesn’t make you shake like a leaf.”

  She lifted her head, her eyes hot with protest. “I’m not.” But she shuddered again and laughed. “I am.”

  He pulled her close. Whatever had upset her, he would fix it. Slowly, so as not to make her leave his arms, he edged them toward the doorstep and sat down, turning her so she remained in his embrace. A grin caught his mouth and softened his eyes when she clung to him. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt, like Macat looking for attention.

  He would gladly accommodate her need for comfort, and he stroked her hair.

  She sighed. “Our mortgage payment is due tomorrow, and I don’t have enough money. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Is the banker apt to be lenient?”

  “I expect he’ll decide to foreclose.”

  Put them out of their home? Where would they go? Judd had to fight to contain his anger at the injustice of the situation.

  “I tried to get the banker to give us the house mortgage free when he sold the land, but he wouldn’t.”

  Of course not. Bankers had to squeeze the last penny from defenseless widows and single young women. “How much do you still owe?”

  “A lot.” She named a sum that in better days would have been laughable but in the current situation was an impossible fortune.

  “The house is worth much more than that, isn’t it?”

  “I expect the banker hopes so.” She sighed against his chest.

  He tightened his arm around her. He wanted to hold her safe and secure from every danger and threat. But he couldn’t. Life contained too many unknowns, too many uncertainties. Slowly, words formed in his mind—a blend of what she’d said and what he’d learned in the past, though he hadn’t been able to apply it to his life. He hoped she would find comfort in what he said. “I remember you telling me God was in control. He would do what was right and just.”

  She snorted. “How naive I was. Advice is easy for others. It’s not so easy when I’m faced with an insurmountable barrier.” She turned to look deep into his eyes. “I apologize for thinking I had solutions for your life because I clearly don’t.”

  He couldn’t bear the look of defeat in her gaze. “You didn’t suggest you had the answers. You told me God did. That’s a whole different thing.”

  She searched his eyes, looking past every defense he normally kept in place, delving into his secret hopes and dreams and, yes, beliefs. He hadn’t applied the promise of God’s care to his own situation, but he desperately wanted her to apply it to hers.

  A slow, pleased smile caught the corners of her mouth and filled her eyes, and with a sigh of contentment, she again pressed her cheek close to his heart.

  “Besides, what would the bank want with another house no one can afford to buy or even rent?”

  A jolt shook her body. “Exactly.”

  They sat without speaking for a few minutes. He would have gladly stayed there until dark, holding her, feeling her trust. One thing nagged at his mind, though. “I thought you’d have money for this payment with the laundry you do and the work at Gratton’s.”

  She seemed to hold her breath.

  When she didn’t answer, alarm snaked through his veins. “Did something happen?” He didn’t trust George, but surely he wouldn’t take advantage of Madge. If he had…Judd’s fists curled. The size of his vengeance would not be measured.

  She snorted. “Not like you’re thinking. George is a good man. I’m a hundred percent convinced of it.”

  He lifted her from his chest to study her face. “Then why the doubtful tone?”

  She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

  He caught her chin and for a moment considered kissing her rather than getting to the truth. He pushed the idea away—though not too far. He’d pursue that desire after he got the facts.

  Slowly, reluctantly, she raised her eyelids and looked directly at him, regret filling her gaze. “He can’t afford to pay me what he owes me.”

  He made an explosive sound. “The scoundrel.”

  She pressed warm fingers to his lips to quiet him. “Instead, he offered me a new car.”

  “Which won’t pay the mortgage.”

  “No. It won’t.”

  “I tried to warn you. That man must be stopped.”

  “Didn’t you just assure me God is in control? Was it only idle words meant to soothe me?” She pushed from his arms. “Judd, I don’t know what
you believe. I don’t think you do, either. I fear talk comes too easy for you.” She stood, putting a cold six inches between them.

  He reached for her, but she avoided his touch. He swallowed back an empty feeling that dried his insides as if they’d been blasted by the hot prairie wind. He didn’t want to lose her. Not even for a moment or a few inches. “Madge, it isn’t just words.” But was it? Where did the words end and the believing begin? Did believing mean he walked away from George and what he did? “Don’t I have a duty to stop George from doing further wrong?”

  Her stubbornness faltered a moment. “Is it responsibility you seek, or is it a way to ease your guilt over not protecting your mother as you thought you should, whether or not she needed or wanted it? Seems to me if it’s the former. You would be seeking the truth, not bullheadedly waiting for a way to exact your personal form of justice. There’s a verse in the Bible that says, ‘What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God?’”

  “Exactly. I’m seeking justice. That’s what God requires of me.”

  “Only He asks us to combine it with mercy and humility. I think that would require you to investigate both sides of the picture.”

  He had all the facts he needed from his mother, though she’d been reluctant to admit them. Again, he reached for Madge, managed to catch her hand and draw her close. She let him pull her forward but stopped with a breath between them. She lowered her head so he saw nothing but the tangle of her dark curls. If that was all he could have, he meant to enjoy it and pressed his face into her hair, breathing in the sweetness of her.

  He knew she wanted closeness as much as he did when she sighed. His insides flooded with love.

  But then she slipped away and faced him.

  “I am never certain who you are—Judd or Justin?”

  He started to protest, but she held up her hand.

  “And do you believe in trusting God? Or are you set on being in control?” She waited, but he had no answers.

  Regret and resignation filled her eyes, and she nodded. “Until you know the answers to those questions, it is impossible for me to trust you.” She turned on her heel and strode toward her car.

  He reached for her but dropped his empty hand. She was right. Until he knew what he truly wanted and who he was, until he either took care of this business with George or…

  He could think of no alterative and stood helpless as Madge drove away.

  Madge’s insides rolled and rebelled. She had gone for comfort and instead ended up more upset. Why was Judd so set on dealing with George? If he truly felt George was doing unethical things, then he should report him and let the law take care of it. But he seemed to want more than justice. Judd was discontent with how God handled things. It had come down to a trust issue. Could he trust God or not?

  She sighed. And what about her? Did she believe God was to be trusted, no matter what? A few hours ago, she would have known the answer without hesitation. Of course she could trust God. So could Judd. Everyone could. But, with the threat of being evicted chomping at her heels, it was more difficult than Madge had ever suspected possible.

  She managed to hide her worries from Mother and her sisters. That night she stood in her dark bedroom, staring out toward the Cotton place. From her window she saw the top of the barn. Nothing more. But she’d seen Judd’s things in the house and imagined him there. She’d found comfort in his arms. Her heart longed to be with him, held close. She relived every word, every gesture of their embrace. But then reality had forced her to break away, had stolen the joy his arms had given.

  Something he said triggered an idea: What did the bank want with another house they couldn’t sell or rent?

  She considered her options. It just might work.

  Lord, I don’t know what Mrs. Gratton’s car is like. It may not serve the purpose at all. But—she fought a lingering, resistant moment of doubt—I ask You to work things out. I trust Your love and care.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sally chatted next morning as they did laundry together. Madge appreciated her younger sister’s help and conversation, but today her insides were too knotted with anticipation—or worry, if she were to admit it—to listen to Sally, and she let the words roll over her without any notice. Until a certain name entered the exchange.

  “Are you still pining for Justin?” Sally demanded as they hung sheets.

  “I’m not pining.” Besides, Justin didn’t even exist.

  “I’m certain I saw him in town the other day. Is he still around?”

  “I think he is.” She was glad the sheets hid her face so Sally wouldn’t see the heat rushing up her cheeks as she remembered how close he was and the precious few moments they’d shared. If only life didn’t throw up such big roadblocks.

  “Why doesn’t he come calling? I thought he was a friend.” Sally’s voice gave a telltale quiver.

  Madge sighed. Her little sister had always been too tender, too easily hurt. Madge vowed she’d do her best to avoid causing Sally pain. Losing the house would shake her to the core. Madge’s heart turned to prayer. She needed God’s divine intervention to carry out her plan.

  She realized Sally waited for an answer to her question. “Justin is a friend, but perhaps right now he has other things to take care of.” Until he did, he would be wise to stay away. Madge did not want her family in any way—even by association—involved with Judd’s plans.

  “I’m going to town early,” she said after lunch. “George asked me to stop by today.” Thankfully, neither Mother nor her sisters seemed to think it unusual. She turned to Sally. “Do you mind ironing the sheets for me?”

  “Of course not. Macat and I will do it.”

  Madge’s cat meowed from her perch in the window.

  Content everyone would be happy in her absence, Madge drove from the yard. She automatically slowed as she passed the Cotton place. Every ounce of her heart cried out for her to stop and see if Judd was there. Perhaps try yet again to convince him to leave justice in God’s hands. Not that she believed George needed justice.

  If only there were some way she could mend the situation. But she couldn’t without revealing Judd’s secret—and she wouldn’t go back on her word.

  There was one thing she could do. Pray. It was enough. Her faith rested in God. She was about to challenge her trust and see if she could rely on it.

  She chuckled at her convoluted reasoning. She was beginning to sound like Grace.

  She slowed in front of the Gratton house but didn’t stop. She intended to see George at the bank.

  She went to the wicket and boldly informed Mr. August that she’d like to speak to Mr. Gratton.

  George came out immediately. She followed him into a tiny office with a desk barely big enough for a sheet of paper and pen and ink.

  “Madge, I want to say how sorry I am.” He looked uncomfortable. “The banker informed me your mortgage payment is due tomorrow. I had no idea. I tried to persuade him to extend your credit….”

  “Never mind that. I’ve reconsidered. I’ll take the car in lieu of wages.”

  “I’ll send for it tonight. Stop by tomorrow and you can take delivery of it. I vow I’ll make it up to you at the first opportunity.”

  She left the bank without a backward look and didn’t draw a satisfying breath until she sat in her car. Lord, please grant success to my plan.

  She moved woodenly through the next twenty-four hours, not daring to think what the future might hold, yet determined she would trust God as she faced it.

  After lunch the next day, she drove to the Gratton house and went inside. Grace sat waiting for her. She held out a key.

  “I think this is yours.”

  Madge faltered. “I understand it was your car. You don’t mind giving it up?”

  “Pshaw. George won’t let me drive anymore, so what good is a car to me? He’s afraid I might have one of my spells. Can you imagine? As if I would. They only come on when I�
�m overtired. Sometimes he treats me like a baby. I remind him I fed him bread and milk when he was small. Why, I could tell you things he did when he was a youngster that would make you see him in an entirely different light.”

  Madge held her palms toward Grace. “No, thanks.” She had too many opposing views of the man already.

  “I’m glad you’re the one to get my car. Come on. I’ll show it to you. It’s out back.”

  Madge followed her. With a flair for drama, Grace opened the door, bowed and waved her through. Madge gasped. “This isn’t a car. It’s a…it’s a luxury.”

  “A DeSoto. Best of its class.”

  “It’s wonderful.” She raced down the steps to circle the car. “I heard about these but never expected to see one.” A sleek beauty and much faster than her old Ford. The DeSoto had six cylinders, plus spoke wheels that gave it an extra classy feel, a split bumper and rumble seat. It would never be big enough for the family, but it would serve her purpose very well. In fact, it was beyond her dreams or expectations. Thank You, God. And to think she’d harbored doubts when she left the house this morning.

  Grace handed her the key. “It’s yours. Take it for a drive.”

  “I will.” She climbed in, grinning so widely it hurt her face. She smoothed her hands over the soft seat and back and forth over the steering wheel. A lovely car. One to be proud of. She could almost imagine keeping it for herself. She sighed. That would defeat her purpose entirely, but before she went to the bank she’d take Joanie for a drive.

  She parked in front of the Sharp home and sat behind the wheel, as proud as a princess at her coronation. The car handled like a charm, and the big motor purred with absolute confidence. Her grin did not flatten a bit as she went to the door and knocked.

  Joanie answered and squealed. “It’s about time you came to see me.” She hugged Madge.

  Madge knew the moment Joanie saw the automobile. Her squeal shifted to a sound of awe.

  “Where did that car come from?”

  “It’s mine. Care to go for a drive?”