Everlasting Hope

by Trace V. Bateman

Andy chuckled. She seemed determined to fix breakfast herself, so maybe Ma had taught her a thing or two in the weeks they’d been at Michael’s. He cast one last glance at her before he went outside. He hoped so, anyway.

  An hour later, he stared at black bacon and runny eggs and realized that of all the wonderful qualities his wife possessed, cooking wasn’t one of them.

  Silence reigned supreme over the table, no one daring to make a peep. Andy ventured a glance at Hope. As though feeling his attention, she looked up, burst into tears, and ran for the bedroom.

  Andy stood. He strode across the room and muscled Hope’s rocking chair in his arms. Then he walked toward the door.

  “I have to go to town. You girls clean the dishes while I’m gone. I should be back before lunchtime.”

  Hank stood. “I’ll saddle up and ride with you. What are you doing with the chair?”

  “My business.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Once they got outside, Hank turned to him. “Hope going to be okay?”

  “She’ll be all right.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who couldn’t cook.”

  Andy frowned. “Well, now you have. Nothing wrong with that. I’m not much of a farmer like most men.”

  “You’ll have to learn to be a farmer now, won’t you?” Hank chuckled. “Unless you want to take up another line of work, say preaching.”

  “I’m willing to become the best farmer in Oregon for Hope’s sake.”

  “Whew, you really have changed.”

  “Just wait, little brother. When you meet up with the right woman, you’d be willing to give up just about anything to make her happy.”

  Hank’s face reddened.

  Andy laughed. “Who is she, Reverend?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked a little too innocently.

  “My guess is you’ve already taken a shine to some lady.”

  “All right. I have. But I don’t think she feels the same way.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  “Of course not. I would never put her in the position of having to reject me. That might hamper our friendship. And I don’t want to risk it.”

  “The woman in question wouldn’t happen to be a certain seamstress would it?”

  Though Andy didn’t think it was possible, Hank’s face grew redder making his freckles pop out. But he didn’t deny it. “Rosemary.”

  “Don’t wait too long to talk to her, Hank. Time is too precious to waste.”

  Inwardly, Andy chuckled that he was giving anyone advice on love. He supposed once a man finally stopped struggling against it and found the woman who was meant just for him, he just wanted everyone to be as happy as he was.

  He hooked up the team while Hank saddled his horse.

  Though he hated to drive the wagon, the task he had in mind required that he do so. Despite his preference for riding on horseback, he had to remember he was doing this for Hope, the woman he loved. A wide grin spread across his lips as he imagined the look on her face when she saw her surprise.

  ❧

  When Hope finally got up the gumption to leave her bedroom, she was happy to find the kitchen clean and the children playing quietly in the living room. Gregory had even kept a fire going to ward off the autumn chill.

  “Where’s your pa?” she asked.

  Gregory sent her a sharp glance. “Town.”

  “Did he say when he was coming home?”

  “Before lunch.”

  “Aunt Hope. When may I go home and see my little sister?” Aimee asked.

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. I suppose your pa will come after you sometime today.”

  “What did mama name her?”

  So much had happened since Hope had given the baby girl her first bath, she had to stop and think hard for a moment. Then it came back to her. “Oh yes. Hannah.” She laughed. “How could I forget that? They named her after your Grammy.”

  The girls giggled. “Grammy has such a pretty name, don’t you think, Betsy?”

  “My favorite name ever!”

  “Hannah Riley.” Aimee dimpled. “My favorite name, too.”

  Hope filled the coffeepot with water from the bucket on the counter. Andy would be home soon and she at least wanted to present him with hot coffee to warm him after a chilly ride to town and back.

  Listening to the girls chatter about the new baby, Hope smiled to herself. Perhaps this time next year, she’d be holding a new baby of her own. She felt a sudden shiver of glee at the thought of giving Andy his own child. She found herself praying another prayer. Please, let me give him a baby.

  Sixteen

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, Mr. Riley. That Mrs. Barker is a regular sea captain. Hollering about this and that. I don’t know how she stays in business.”

  Andy grinned at Lucille’s attempt to keep her voice down, but from the doorway, he heard Mrs. Barker’s loud harrumph.

  Lucille shrugged. “How is Mrs. Riley?”

  “Fine. But she’s ready for you to come to the house. We only have half the loft for you to sleep in for now. But we’ll build you a room of your own come spring.”

  “Believe me, half a loft will seem like a palace compared to living in this prison.”

  Lucille’s exaggeration elicited a chuckle from Andy.

  “How long until you can be ready to go?”

  “I best give the room a good going over before I leave. I’d hate for that woman to besmirch my name after I’m gone and tell people I didn’t keep a tidy room.”

  “An hour?”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  “All right. I’ll be back then.”

  Andy’s next stop was the general store. The smell of leather oil and pipe tobacco greeted him when he stepped through the door. Andy walked up to the counter where a blackhaired customer leaned easily against the counter, dressed in a black suit of clothes that spoke of privilege.

  The proprietor placed his hands flat on the counter. “What can I do for you?”

  “I. . .um. . .” Andy cleared his throat. His palms were damp and his heart beat a rapid rhythm within his chest. Trying to procure honest work was going to be harder than he’d thought it would be.

  “Well?”

  The owner’s prodding brought Andy back to his senses.

  “I make furniture.”

  “I have a good supply of nails over on that table.”

  “No. I didn’t want to buy nails. Well, actually, I could probably use some. Just finished building my wife’s cabin.”

  “Congratulations,” he replied, without much enthusiasm. “As I mentioned, nails are over there.”

  Stalling, Andy grabbed two bags of nails. He paid for them and stuffed them inside his coat pocket. The little man behind the counter gave him a questioning look. “Well? Anything else I can do for you?”

  Embarrassment crept up Andy’s neck. “To be honest, I’d like to sell some of the furniture I build, and I thought you might be interested in placing it in your store for a percentage. I have a sample in the wagon just outside, if you’d like to take a look.”

  The other man at the counter followed Andy’s pointing finger. Andy scowled at him. Obviously taking the hint, the man gave a curt nod and headed for the door.

  Turning back to the proprietor, Andy waited while he seemed to be considering the proposition. Andy held his breath.

  The little man finally nodded. “Can’t hurt to take a look. I’m not making any promises, though.”

  “I understand.”

  Andy’s heart thundered in his ears while the man examined Hope’s rocking chair.

  “This is better than average work.” The man stroked his chin. “How much you asking for it?”

  “This one belongs to my wife, so it isn’t for sale, but I can make another one, and if you’ll display it, I’ll give you a percentage.”

  “I might be interested. What else do you make?”

  Andy went down a list.


  “Well, come inside, and I’ll write up an agreement for us both to sign.”

  Excitement nearly exploded in Andy’s chest as he followed the man inside. Hope had been right. Perhaps he could make a living doing what he loved to do.

  After the man wrote up a rough contract of sorts, he pushed it across the counter. They haggled a moment about percentage until they came to a satisfactory compromise. Andy signed and pushed the paper back.

  The proprietor started to sign then looked up, his expression suddenly hard, his eyes firing anger. “You Andy Riley?”

  “That’s right.”

  “The name Johnny Harper ring a bell?”

  “I haven’t heard it in quite a few years, but yeah, I used to know Johnny.” Andy had met Johnny the first year in Oregon. He’d just been about Gregory’s age at the time. The young man had taught Andy how to smoke and drink whiskey.

  Johnny had tried to talk Andy into robbing the bank with him, but Andy’s conscience wouldn’t allow such a bold act. Johnny had gotten caught. He tried to pin it on Andy, but thankfully, Andy been home with his parents at the time, attending a picnic with neighbors.

  “How do you know Johnny?” Andy finally replied.

  “You don’t recognize me, eh? He was my boy.” The man’s eyes grew misty.

  “Was?”

  “He was sent to prison for the robbery. After he got out, he was more of an outlaw than when he went in. He was finally hanged.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Harper. I didn’t know.”

  “How could you have known?” The man’s bitter tone caused Andy’s heart to sink. He didn’t even recognize the man, he’d grown so old in the last eighteen years. But clearly, he still believed Johnny’s original claim—that Andy was the real thief.

  “I am sorry about Johnny, Mr. Harper. I didn’t know him for very long.”

  “Just long enough to turn him down the wrong path.” The man’s bitter response cut into Andy’s sense of hope. “Get out of my store before I put a bullet in you.”

  Andy walked in bewildered silence into the cold November air. He shivered as a blast of wind slipped under his collar. But the chilly air didn’t even come close to the icy chill invading his heart.

  He climbed into the wagon. Hope had been wrong. He’d tried to do right by her. Had wanted to come home with the news that he would be building and selling furniture, as she’d been so sure he should. But how could she have known that a man couldn’t escape who he was.

  Loud music and shrill laughter reached his ears from the saloon down the street. Andy’s mouth suddenly went dry. His heart rate increased. He hadn’t been tempted to drink in months. But now he could almost feel the burning sensation of whisky in his throat. Could almost sense the welcome, numbing fog that would soon follow. Abruptly, he maneuvered the horses in front of the saloon. He didn’t allow second thoughts. This was the only life he’d ever know. What was the point in trying to be anything more?

  He hesitated only a second as Hope’s face shot through his mind. The sweetness with which she’d given herself to him the night before. Rather than dissuade him, the image spurred him forward in frustration. He would never be good enough for a woman like Hope. Should never have thought to try to be a family man like Michael.

  He reached for the door.

  “Andy?”

  A growl escaped Andy’s throat at being detained from his mission. He turned to face Hank.

  Hank narrowed his gaze, his eyes stormy. “What are you doing?”

  “You’re a smart man, figure it out.”

  Hank quickly closed the distance between them and stood between Andy and the saloon entrance.

  “Get out of my way, Hank.”

  “I can’t let you do it.”

  “You don’t have any choice.”

  Hank folded his arms across his chest. He stood several inches shorter than Andy and was more wiry than muscular. Andy knew he could take him if he needed to, but he wouldn’t. How could he blame Hank for looking out for his best interests? He knew his brother would stay planted in front of that door until he knocked him out of the way or gave in. How badly did he really want to go into that saloon? He studied the determination in his brother’s face, the sincerity in his eyes, and Andy’s fight left him.

  He clapped Hank on the shoulder. “You win, little brother.”

  Relief washed Hank’s face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Naw, I’ll be all right. Listen, Hank, I need a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Take the wagon and go get Lucille from the boardinghouse.”

  “The woman Hope brought west with her?”

  Andy nodded. “She’s ready to come to the cabin, and I told her I’d pick her up in an hour. I have some things to do, first.”

  Suspicion clouded Hank’s eyes. “Like what?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going into the saloon.”

  With a look that clearly said he wasn’t so sure Andy was telling the truth, Hank gave a hesitant nod. “All right. Use my horse.”

  Hank climbed into the wagon.

  Andy extended his arm. “Thanks, Hank.”

  Nodding, Hank clasped the hand. He held on. “Are you sure you’re okay, Andy? Do you want to go over to the church and talk about it?”

  “No. I need time alone.” He hesitated a minute, then decided to come clean. “I’m going up to Pike’s cabin. Do you still want me to take the horse?”

  “Go ahead. I’ll get one from Michael. But you shouldn’t go up there now. Before long the pass will be too dangerous for you to go through until after the spring thaw.”

  Andy nodded. “That’s what I’m counting on. Do you need your saddlebag?”

  Hank scowled and shook his head impatiently. “There’s only one thing in there and you need it more than I do. What about Hope and the children?”

  “They have enough wood cut to last the winter, enough food except for meat and Gregory’s pretty near as good a shot as I am. They won’t go hungry.”

  “Maybe it’s not so much about hunger as needing a man in the house. You know how winters can be. Do you really want your wife and children to be alone?”

  Like an arrow, his words struck their mark, but Andy’s mind was already made up. He would never be the man Hope believed he could be. Today’s fiasco had proven that. “Will you give Hope a message for me?”

  “If you’re determined to do this thing, then I suppose I have no choice.”

  “Tell her I meant everything from the bottom of my heart. And I’m sorry.”

  “Andy, don’t do something you’ll regret.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Andy watched the wagon until it rolled out of sight, then, without another glance at the saloon, he mounted Hank’s horse and rode out of town, in the opposite direction that his heart wanted to go.

  ❧

  For three days straight, Hope lay in bed, nursing her grief. She felt like a fool for believing a word he’d said. Her face burned at the memory of their night together. How eager she’d been. Wherever he was, he must be laughing at her for being an idiot. And she couldn’t blame him.

  A knock at the door interrupted her selfdeprecating thoughts. Irritation bit her. In no mood to be bothered, she ignored the knock.

  A moment later, the door swung open. “What do you think you’re doing in bed?”

  Hope sat up, smoothing her hair, although after three days without a brush there wasn’t much point. “Miss Hannah!”

  Miss Hannah looked down at her and the outrage on her plump face turned to pity. “Oh, honey.” The mattress sank beneath her weight as she sat. She took Hope into her comforting arms. Without a word, Hope let loose a flood of tears. Great, wrenching sobs shook her. When finally her tears were spent, she snatched her hanky from the bedside table.

  “I can’t believe he left.”

  “Wasn’t that the plan all along?”

  A gasp escaped her lips. “You knew?”

  Miss Hannah nodded
. “Greg spilled it.”

  “I’m seriously regretting ever teaching that child to speak!”

  A chuckle left Miss Hannah’s throat. “That’s good. You still have a sense of humor.”

  “Anyway, Andy wasn’t supposed to leave until spring at least. And after the other night, I thought. . .I mean, he said—”

  Hope twisted the hanky between her fingers, facing flushing hot at what she’d almost revealed.

  “I see. . .”

  “Oh, Miss Hannah. I miss him. I never thought I’d fall in love. But it hit me so fast. Almost from the moment I met Andy. Even when he was stinking and barely recognizable from the beating he took.”

  Miss Hannah’s face blanched. “Maybe you should tell me everything from the beginning.”

  Slowly, Hope started from the time she found Andy in the alley. She told about Gregory’s trouble, and the miracles that occurred. The older woman’s eyes misted, and she grabbed her own hanky from her wristband when Hope told her about Yellow Bird and the little grandbaby Miss Hannah would never hold in her comforting arms. And finally, she told of Andy asking her to take him as a real husband.

  “Oh, I’m so stupid for believing him!” She smacked the bed in frustration.

  “Andy’s been running for a long, long time. I’ve plumb wore out my knees praying for him.”

  “Do you think if I pray for another miracle, God might send him home?”

  “Maybe, but Hope, you know God isn’t just up there doling out miracles to suit us. As much as He wants to bless us, the most important thing is the miracle of new life.”

  “You mean, you think I could be carrying Andy’s child?”

  Miss Hannah chuckled. “Well, you’d know more about that than I would. I’m not talking about human life. I’m talking about a new spiritual life.”

  “Like asking Jesus into your heart?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  “I’ve been studying the Bible, Miss Hannah. For over a month, I’ve been listening to Hank at church and reading the Bible. I’m just not sure it’s all true. D–do you think that’s why God sent Andy away? Because I didn’t pray the prayer with Betsy?”

  “No, I don’t. But the very fact that you asked me the question proves that you do believe and are just resisting.”

  Hope couldn’t deny that her heart stirred every time she read the Bible.