The Iron Wagon

by Al Lacy

  Whip’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh yes! No question in my mind about it! Where is the baby now?”

  “She is in Dr. Carroll’s office at the hospital. Dr. Bates took her there at my request when I left to go to the federal building. Breanna is taking care of the baby until you and I get there.”

  Whip grinned. “So Breanna and Dr. Carroll both already know about the upcoming adoption.”

  “They sure do! Dr. Bates has already told them the whole story by now.”

  Whip gripped her hand tightly. “Well, sweet stuff, what are we waiting for? Let’s get to the hospital. I want to see my new little ‘almost’ daughter!”

  A few minutes later, when Whip and Annabeth arrived at Dr. Carroll’s office, they found Breanna sitting on the small sofa, holding the newborn baby.

  Instantly Breanna rose to her feet and rushed the little blond baby to Whip, who took her into his arms with happy tears in his eyes.

  “I’m so glad you are going to adopt the Fawley baby,” Dr. Carroll said. “Do you plan to go to county judge Ralph Dexter and apply for the adoption?”

  Whip nodded. “Tomorrow morning. Can the baby stay at the hospital tonight, Dr. Carroll?”

  “Certainly. And Dr. Bates will go with you tomorrow when you apply for the adoption, just so there won’t be any problems. He can testify to what Grace Fawley said.”

  “We’ll talk to Dr. Bates before we leave the hospital,” Whip said, “and set a time that will be convenient for him.”

  The next day, Whip and Annabeth went to Judge Dexter’s office in downtown Denver in their buggy, accompanied by Dr. Bates, who drove his own buggy. When the doctor saw there would be no problem for Whip and Annabeth to adopt the baby, he excused himself, saying he needed to get back to the hospital.

  The Langfords told the judge that they wanted to name the baby Elisabeth Grace. The name Grace, of course, was in honor of her real mother. A few minutes later, when the adoption papers had been signed by the judge, Whip and Annabeth overflowed with joy from their hearts that beautiful little blond six-and-half-pound Elisabeth Grace Langford was now officially their daughter.

  When they left the judge’s office and stepped outside, the couple’s feet seemed to barely touch the ground as they thanked the Lord for giving them little Elisabeth Grace.

  As they headed toward a nearby hitching post where the horse and buggy stood, Annabeth looked up at her husband. “Honey, can you spare a couple of hours from the office? We need to buy some baby bottles and milk. We also need to buy little Elisabeth some diapers and clothes, as well as a crib and blankets.”

  “Of course, sweetheart.” Whip gave her a big smile. “This is a great event in our lives. Since Dr. Carroll and Breanna are expecting us to show up at the hospital to pick up the baby, we’ll stop by there first, and I’ll run in and let them know about the shopping we need to do. Then when we’re done, we’ll go back to the hospital, pick up our little daughter, and take her home.”

  “Yes!” Annabeth said, as they stepped up to the wagon. “That’s how we’ll do it!”

  Whip helped Annabeth into the buggy, untied the horse from the hitching post, climbed in beside her, and put the horse to a trot.

  Later, when the shopping was done and Whip and Annabeth entered Dr. Carroll’s office, they found Breanna just finishing feeding the baby milk from a bottle.

  When the new parents were ready to leave with their baby, Breanna invited them to come to the Brockman home for supper and to spend a little time with them so the family could get to know little Elisabeth Grace. The Langfords accepted the invitation, saying they would be there in time for supper.

  At First Baptist Church the next morning, September 22, Pastor Bayless was beaming at announcement time. He stood and told the story of Grace Fawley’s death in childbirth on Friday and of the adoption of the orphaned newborn by Whip and Annabeth. He had the adoptive parents stand with Annabeth holding little Elisabeth Grace in her arms.

  The crowd applauded and cheered, congratulating the Langfords on becoming parents.

  After the church service, Whip and Annabeth approached Dr. Carroll and his wife, Dottie, in the parking lot as they were about to climb in their buggy and head for home.

  Holding little Elisabeth Grace in his arms, Whip stepped up and said, “Dr. Carroll, Annabeth needs to talk to you.”

  Annabeth was just a step behind her husband, standing close to his side.

  Dr. Carroll smiled. “I’m quite sure what you want to talk to me about, Annabeth. Now that you have this baby, you are going to resign your position at Mile High Hospital in order to be a full-time mother. Right?”

  Annabeth grinned sheepishly. “I should have brought this up to you the same day we adopted her, Dr. Carroll, but there was no time.”

  “Annabeth, I have a number of nurses employed at the hospital to choose from, one of whom I will put in your place.” He paused a few seconds, then added, “Of course, nobody could really take your place, but you understand what I mean.”

  Tears moistened Annabeth’s eyes. “I understand, Dr. Carroll. You’re so kind. Thank you for being such a wonderful chief administrator to work for.”

  “You have my blessings, Annabeth, in your new life as a mother.”

  “And you have my blessings too,” Dottie chimed in.

  Annabeth brushed away the tears from her eyes. “Thank you both so very much.”

  “Yes,” said Whip, “thank you both so very much.”

  The Brockman family was standing close by. John took a few steps closer to them and said, “We didn’t mean to listen in on what was being said, folks, but with your wagon so near, we couldn’t help but hear the conversation.”

  “No problem, Chief,” said Whip.

  Breanna moved up beside her husband and looked at the two couples. “Why don’t you all come to the ranch and have Sunday dinner with us?”

  The Carrolls and the Langfords exchanged glances, and Dottie said, “Let’s do as my sister is asking, okay?”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Whip.

  “Me too,” replied Dr. Carroll. “Let’s go!”

  When they all arrived at the Brockman ranch and entered the house, Dr. Carroll set his soft gaze on his fourteen-year-old niece, Ginny, and smiling, put an arm around her shoulders. “I wish you were old enough to have had nurse’s training. I would love to hire you in Annabeth’s place. You would be perfect for the job.”

  Her uncle’s words made Ginny very happy. Smiling up at him, she said, “Uncle Matt, when I do get old enough and after I do finish nurse’s training, I will apply to you for a job.”

  Dr. Carroll squeezed her tenderly. “You’ll get the job too, sweet girl!”

  Meggie, who was standing close by, spoke up. “Uncle Matt, will you want me to work for you when I get old enough to take nurse’s training and graduate from nursing school?”

  Letting go of Ginny, Dr. Carroll hugged Meggie. “I sure will, sweetheart! You and your sister will have jobs at Mile High Hospital, I promise.”

  The women and the girls went to the kitchen while the men and Paul sat down in the parlor, with Whip holding little Elisabeth. Breanna had learned to always be prepared for Sunday dinner company, and this day was no exception. Before leaving for church, she had placed two large chickens seasoned with sage dressing into the oven. The girls had peeled a large amount of potatoes and cut them into wedges, and they were ready in cold water, waiting to be put on the stove and boiled. The garden salad was also ready, as were apple pies for dessert.

  During dinner, little Elisabeth Grace Langford was sleeping soundly on Ginny’s bed. Most of the talk at the table was about Whip and Annabeth’s new little daughter.

  SIXTEEN

  Time moved on. Paul Brockman still had his heart set on becoming one of his father’s deputy U.S. marshals when he turned twenty-one. John Brockman continued to work with his son, doing all he could to prepare him in every way to be a topnotch lawman.

  Paul Brockman graduated from h
igh school in May of 1891 and turned nineteen on October third of that year.

  When Paul entered the kitchen for breakfast the morning of his birthday, he was surprised to find the rest of the family already there. Ginny and Meggie were standing between their parents near the table, and when Paul looked at them questioningly and moved toward them, they began singing “Happy Birthday” to him.

  Paul stood there grinning until they had finished singing to him. Then he hugged his mother first. Ginny and Meggie were hugged next. Then Paul planted a manly hug on his father.

  When all were seated at the table for breakfast, John led in prayer, thanking the Lord for Paul, then for the food. As they began to eat, Breanna told her son that his big birthday party scheduled for that evening was still on.

  Paul smiled, knowing that the Carrolls would be there as well as the Langfords, Pastor and Mrs. Bayless, and some of the boys he had graduated from high school with. “I’m looking forward to it, Mama.” He reached across the table to pat her hand.

  John drained his coffee cup and placed it back on the table. “Son, I have something very important I want to talk to you about right after breakfast, before I head for my office.”

  Paul nodded genially. “Yes sir.”

  “What’s it about, Papa?” asked Meggie.

  “Mama knows what it is,” replied John. “I’ll let her and Paul tell you and Ginny after I head for Denver.”

  “All right,” said Meggie.

  When breakfast was over, John took Paul into the parlor while the girls helped their mother clean up the kitchen and do the dishes. They sat on overstuffed chairs facing each other. “Son, I want to hire you to do paperwork in my office right away. Ordinarily, no one can be on the payroll of the U.S. marshal’s staff until he is twenty years old, but I obtained permission from the federal authorities in Washington, D.C., to hire you at nineteen because you are my son. Interested?”

  Paul’s face had already brightened. “I sure am!”

  “Good. You will not only do paperwork but anything else needed in relation to me and all the deputies.”

  “That’s fine with me!”

  “You see, son, this will very much help you to learn about how a federal law office is run and will aid in preparing you to become a deputy U.S. marshal when you turn twenty-one. I know this kind of work may sound a little tame compared to wearing a gun and going after outlaws, but it’s all part of the job, and it’s important that you learn all of the inner workings of the job.”

  “I understand, Papa.” Paul smiled. “Sure, I’d like to put on a badge, strap on my Colt .45, and go after outlaws right now, but that will have to come all in good time.”

  “Right, son. You’ve grown up watching me function as the chief United States marshal here in the Western District, but until you put on the badge and the gun belt and actually have to handle the bad guys, you still won’t know all that is involved in being a lawman. You are young yet, Paul, and I want you as well-trained as possible before that badge has a place on your chest.”

  “Thanks, Papa. I will be a good student and learn all I can about the job that’s coming when I turn twenty-one. But mostly I will learn with you as my example. You’re the best lawman there is.”

  John looked pleased. “You’ve got me somewhat overrated, son, but I’m glad you feel that way about me.”

  John and Paul were unaware that Breanna had been privy to most of this conversation as she stood in the hall beside the open parlor door. Walking away quietly down the hall, she said in a low voice, “Dear Lord, it’s been one thing to have my husband in law enforcement all these years, but—but in a couple of years, my only son will be putting himself in harm’s way. As I have prayed all these years for John, please give Paul wisdom in wearing the badge, and give him Your protection as he performs the task You are leading him to do. Help him to make a difference in people’s lives, just as his father has, and please give me the grace and strength I need daily to stand by both of them.”

  As Breanna closed her prayer in Jesus’ name, the “peace of God, which passeth all understanding,” spoken of in Philippians 4:7, made its way into her heart and mind. “Thank You, Lord Jesus. Thank You.”

  On Friday, May 20, 1892, in the auditorium at Denver High School, Ginny Brockman graduated from high school at age seventeen and received her diploma with her proud family and many friends there to observe it.

  On Monday, May 23, Breanna and Ginny drove the family buggy into town to the Colorado School of Nursing. There, Breanna registered Ginny to enter her freshman year and begin preparation to become a nurse. The school year would begin the first week of September.

  Ginny was all smiles as she and her mother climbed into the buggy and sat on the driver’s seat. Breanna hugged her. “Ginny dear, I am so proud of you! You graduated at the top of your class in high school, and now you are on your way to making your lifelong dream of becoming a nurse a reality.”

  Ginny kissed her mother’s cheek. “It’s all because of the example you’ve given me as a nurse, Mama.”

  Breanna radiated her pleasure at the compliment, but then turned gently solemn. “Being a nurse is not an easy road to travel. You will face many difficult problems, but overall, it is so rewarding. And even though you will often find that you cannot heal every patient you labor over, keep your eyes on the Lord and be thankful for those who pull through their ailments. When some do not get healed by your earnest efforts, and even die, you will know that you did your best for them. Be ever so thankful that at least you were able to help ease their suffering. Just remember, honey, that when it comes to life or death, God is in control, not you. Not even the doctors. Be loving and kind, because that is really what patients need most of all. Always take time to listen when they speak to you of their ailments, because the patient knows his or her body best.”

  Ginny nodded. “That makes sense, Mama.”

  Breanna went on. “There will be times when things will happen that will cause you to question your decision to become a nurse. When it seems that you have failed too often in your chosen profession, just remember that the Lord is always with you, and you will see that there are many more people ahead who are in need of your services and your help. Pray for guidance as you work to help every patient. He will lead you and give you wisdom.”

  Ginny nodded again. “Yes, Mama. I know He will.”

  “I can tell you this, Ginny. I have observed you through the years as you’ve helped me when Paul and Meggie and even your papa were sick or injured. And I know you will make a wonderful, caring nurse. I’m so thankful that you want to follow in my footsteps in the medical profession. God will bless and use you to help heal bodies, be a witness for Him, and heal sin-sick souls as well.”

  Ginny, who had led some of her schoolmates to the Lord over the years, smiled. “I will do my best, Mama.”

  Breanna hugged her again. “I love you, my precious daughter. May God go with you as you begin this path.”

  Ginny hugged her mother back. “And I love you, Mama. I pray I can be even half the nurse that you are. I’m so excited to get started, and my goal, with God’s help, is to be the best nurse He enables me to be.”

  “You’ll do just fine, my Ginny girl. You have the right heart attitude, and that’s what matters.”

  Tears of joy streamed down the cheeks of both mother and daughter as they hugged each other again.

  Paul Brockman turned twenty-one on Tuesday, October 3, 1893. At eleven o’clock on Wednesday morning and wearing an official uniform, he was sworn in at the federal building by his father before a group of deputy U.S. marshals. With tears filming his eyes, chief U.S. marshal John Brockman pinned a deputy marshal’s badge on his son’s chest. The deputies applauded, then went to Paul, telling him how glad they were that he was now one of them. Some also brought up that the older he became, the more he looked like his father. This pleased Paul very much.

  At this time, Chief Brockman was forty-eight years of age, and his wife, Breanna,
was forty-four.

  Deputy U.S. marshal Whip Langford was thirty-seven, and his wife, Annabeth, was thirty-four. Little Elisabeth Grace Langford, now called Lizzie by her parents and friends, was four years old.

  John assigned his son to carry out his deputy U.S. marshal’s job by working with some of the much-experienced deputies, especially Whip, whom Paul greatly admired. Sometimes John even had Paul going after outlaws with him.

  As the days passed, Paul proved himself to be excellent in handling himself with outlaws. His boldness, courage, and lightning speed on the quick draw, along with absolute accuracy with his gun, were spoken of in newspaper articles and by his fellow deputies.

  Paul was praying daily that the Lord would bring the right Christian young lady into his life to become his wife. He had dated many Christian girls in high school, but nothing serious ever took place between him and any of them. Paul believed the Lord already had the right young lady picked out for him to one day be his wife, and he was eager to meet her.

  On Sunday, November 5, during the invitation at the close of the sermon at Denver’s First Baptist Church, a Christian couple named Nathan and Janet Bryson, along with their lovely, Christian nineteen-year-old daughter, Noreen, walked the aisle to present themselves for membership.

  Nathan and Janet had moved to Denver from Chicago, Illinois, in mid-October and started visiting the church. Noreen, who had beautiful brunette hair like her mother, had remained in Chicago when her parents first moved to Denver because of a job obligation and had just arrived in Denver by railroad the day before.

  Sitting with his parents and his sisters in their favorite pew, Paul’s curiosity about the pretty young lady with the Brysons was cleared up by Pastor Bayless when he explained why Noreen had not been in the previous services with her parents.