Tracie Peterson - [New Mexico Sunset 04]

by Come Away, My Love

  “You are alone?”

  “Yes,” she replied. Then to the old man’s delight, she added in French. “I’m without family or funds and seek refuge and work. Would you have knowledge of someone nearby who might need my assistance?”

  “I have not heard my language spoken in a very long time,” Father Cooper replied with a smile of sheer pleasure breaking the wrinkled paths around his mouth. “I believe I can help you. I could not pay you, but you could live here and share meals with me.”

  “What would I do?”

  “You could gather wood for my fire and keep my house and garden,” he offered.

  “I can also cook. I know several wonderful French recipes,” Joelle beamed at the man, with sudden interest in his suggestion.

  “It would be to my delight, Joelle Dawson.”

  “Very well,” she said, feeling great relief to have the matter resolved. “I will stay for a time with you, Father Cooper, and share your hospitality.”

  “You will share also your heartache, no?”

  Joelle started at his words. She put down her fork and stared thoughtfully at her plate. She had no reason to fear this man or his condemnation. He was a man of God, and the loving kindness that he had already extended to her gave Joelle no reason to doubt his earnest concern.

  “I will share what I can,” Joelle replied softly. She looked up with wide, dark eyes to see the compassion in the aged face that looked back at her. “It is a great burden that I bear, and I’m uncertain that if shared it will be any lighter.”

  “All burdens shared make lighter the load. It is less work when two carry the water, instead of one.”

  Joelle nodded and looked back at her food. “Perhaps.”

  Chapter 10

  But Joelle won’t come back to Bandelero!” John protested. Once again he was under the roof of his parents, only this time things were much different. He was no longer the young naïve boy who had gone off to join the army. Now he was a cripple, or nearly that, and hopelessly worried about the whereabouts of the woman he wanted to marry.

  “Well, she certainly wasn’t coming back to Columbus,” Lillie stated, pushing John’s wheelchair to one side. Squeezing past her son’s intentional roadblock, Lillie paused to give John’s shoulder a pat. “Get well first, then worry about finding her. Joelle will either come back here or go home to her parents. She won’t wander around forever.”

  “I don’t like the idea of her wandering around out there at all. I want her here, where I can take care of her.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lillie said, looking down at her son. “You have a great deal of healing to do yourself, John. How can you concentrate on caring for Joelle when you need to work on putting yourself back together?”

  John shook his head and ran his fingers back through his hair. “I know you’re right. But. . .”

  “But?”

  “I need her. She makes me feel alive. Even when she was arguing with me, I wanted to laugh with her, hold her, love her. She’s got to understand that what happened in Columbus isn’t important to me, at least not in a way that matters about my feelings for her. If anything, I just love her more. She said that anything was preferable to letting me die. I feel anything is preferable to going through life without her.”

  Lillie’s face softened. “I know, John. Give it over to God. He knows where she is, and He can lead her home.”

  John nodded and wheeled himself off to his bedroom. His father had redone the bedroom to accommodate John’s various needs and, closing the door behind him, John prayed that wherever she was, someone would meet Joelle’s needs, as well.

  He noticed the papers still lying on the dresser and moved the chair closer to retrieve them. They were his discharge orders and, although he knew it had to be that way, John felt as though a major part of his life was over.

  He closed his eyes and could almost feel himself back in the cockpit of the Jenny. If desire and will could make it so, John would have already been flying again, flying and soaring high above the turmoil and unrest of the earth.

  For several minutes he sat there motionless, seeing in his mind the graceful plane as she glided across the sky. It would never be his again, he thought silently.

  “But at least it was mine for a time,” he murmured. He needed to be glad for the time he had enjoyed as a pilot. Some folks never had a chance to enjoy what they really and truly loved.

  A knock at his bedroom door ended John’s dreams for the moment. “Come in.”

  Lillie appeared, and on her face was a strained look. “John, Joelle’s parents are here. Would you mind talking with them?”

  John shook his head. “I don’t mind.” He tossed the papers aside and wheeled his chair to the door. “Just lead the way.”

  Riley and Zandy Dawson were sitting stiffly, with grim expressions lining their faces. Riley got to his feet and extended his hand to John.

  “It’s been a long time, but I do believe we met at Christmas, after my son, Nicholas, married Daughtry Lucas.”

  “Yes, I remember that well,” John replied. “How are you Mr. Dawson, Mrs. Dawson?”

  “Please, just call me Riley,” Joelle’s dark-haired father requested. He reclaimed his seat beside his wife, and John became acutely aware of how much Joelle resembled him.

  “And you must call me Zandy,” the brown-haired woman at his side stated.

  John noticed the soft touches of gray that peppered Riley’s hair while, except for the lines of worry, Zandy Dawson seemed hardly older than her daughter. He smiled sadly. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get together under better circumstances. I’d figured on us getting under one roof for a wedding this spring.”

  “We’d heard about that possibility,” Riley said, as though he had not been entirely sure of the matter.

  John folded his hands in his lap. “I love her very much.”

  Zandy leaned forward to cover John’s hands with one of her own. She said nothing, but her eyes met his with an all-telling look.

  “We’re staying with Garrett and Maggie Lucas,” Riley said, breaking the tense silence.

  “I presumed you might be,” Lillie said before John could reply. “Dan says that Daughtry’s baby is due just about any day.”

  “We’re quite excited,” Zandy replied. “If only. . .” She grew quiet and eased back against the sofa.

  “ ‘If onlys’ don’t get us very far,” John whispered, remembering his mother’s words. “I’m full of those, and they haven’t served me well.”

  “Do you have any news at all?” Riley questioned.

  “No,” John answered. “Nothing. I put friends to work on it down in Columbus, but the army’s kind of got their hands full with tracking down Villa. My brother, J.D., is searching for Joelle in El Paso—”

  “Why there?” Zandy interrupted to ask.

  “It was close and a pretty good size of a town. We figured she might have gone there just to lose herself in the crowds for awhile,” Lillie replied.

  “She couldn’t have gotten far,” John added. “She didn’t have much cash with her.”

  “I see,” Riley shifted uncomfortably and shot a quick glance at his wife. “I’m going to hire some men to look for her. We’ll start in Columbus and work from there.”

  “As soon as I’m out of this thing, I plan to go after her myself,” John said in a voice that betrayed his frustration.

  “We know you will,” Zandy said, hoping to give him comfort.

  “We’ll be at the ranch if you get any news,” Riley continued. “I understand they still don’t have a telephone, but I’ll ride in here daily to check with you. If you don’t mind, I’ll give my men this number, as well.”

  “Of course,” Lillie stated. “You’re welcome to stay here, you know, but I’m sure you’ll want to be near
Daughtry and Nick.”

  Riley and Zandy nodded and got to their feet. “We’d better head back,” Riley said and extended his hand to John. “We’ll find her, keep the faith. God hasn’t brought us all this far just to desert us.”

  John nodded and watched his mother walk them to the door. He felt even more useless, thinking of how he must have appeared to them. With renewed spirit, John was more determined than ever to get back on his feet. If my life has to change, let it. But let me have some form of control over it, he thought.

  

  April brought the birth of Heidi Dawson. At seven and one-half pounds, she was healthy and strong, for which everyone sincerely thanked God. Daughtry and Nicholas, ever the proud parents, were joyful in their new arrival. Kent, Heidi’s older brother who was not quite two, did not know what he thought of the squalling baby.

  “Bebe,” he said, pointing an accusing finger.

  “That’s right, my boy,” Nicholas said, holding Kent close enough to touch his new sister. “That’s your baby sister, Heidi.”

  “I. . .D.” Kent tried his version of the name.

  “That’s right,” Daughtry said from her bed. “Later we’ll let you hold her.”

  “Did you give her a middle name?” Riley asked from where he stood with Zandy. They proudly shared the laurels of grandparents with Maggie and Garrett Lucas.

  “Joelle,” Daughtry stated softly. “Her name is Heidi Joelle.”

  Zandy’s eyes filled with tears, and Riley pulled her close.

  “That’s beautiful, Daughtry. Thank you. I’m sure Joelle will be honored.”

  “We hope so,” Daughtry said, glad for Nicholas’s supportive hand, now resting on her shoulder. “Joelle was. . .is a great comfort to us.”

  Maggie came forward to take Kent from his father. “I think it’s somebody’s bedtime.”

  “No nap! No nap!” Kent chanted and could be heard all the way down the hall.

  “I think I’ll give your mother a hand,” Daughtry’s bearded father said. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  When Daughtry’s parents had gone, Nicholas noticed the worried look his parents exchanged. “Has there been any word?” he asked.

  “No, nothing,” Riley answered and pulled Zandy with him to Daughtry’s bedside.

  “Poor Joelle,” Daughtry whispered. “She had to bear so much. I’ve prayed constantly for her.”

  “So have we,” Zandy admitted to her daughter-in-law. The dejection was clear in her voice. “It’s so hard to just stand by and wait. Sometimes I get so angry at her. She knows the torment she’s putting us through. She couldn’t possibly be unaware of the pain we’re suffering.”

  “She’s not aware,” Daughtry said firmly. “I’m certain of that. She was always very concerned about you both when she was staying with Nicholas and me. I’m sure it’s just that her own sorrows are so great she can’t think beyond them.”

  “That’s why she should come home,” Riley retorted.

  “That’s why she should,” Nicholas offered in reply, “but it’s also why she won’t.”

  

  Joelle sat quietly knitting, while Father Cooper strained against the poor light and his own thick spectacles to read a lengthy letter. Putting aside her work, Joelle went to where he sat.

  “Would you like for me to read it?”

  Father Cooper surrendered the papers to her youthful hands. “It would greatly please these weary eyes, if you would be so kind.”

  Joelle read him the letter, a missive from a brother in the service. The shaky handwriting was nearly as poor as that of Father Cooper’s, and Joelle deemed them to be contemporaries in age. By the time she finished with the correspondence, Father Cooper sat dozing in his chair.

  Joelle smiled and leaned back to close her own eyes. She had been Father Cooper’s houseguest for nearly two and one-half months. It had been most difficult at first, but he had quickly disarmed her fears with his zany tales of France in his boyhood and how he had nearly gotten kicked out of the seminary for putting alum in the drinking water. He was quite a character, her Father Cooper, and Joelle was very grateful to have made his acquaintance.

  She was also grateful for the friendship he had extended. He never pressured her for answers that she found impossible to give, and he always seemed to understand when her sorrows kept her silent and unresponsive.

  Joelle ran her hand lightly across her abdomen and thought of the child who grew there. She now had the answer to that frightful question. She would give birth to a child in December. She grimaced and opened her eyes. What kind of child could possibly come from such a union? This baby was conceived in violence and rage. What possible good could come from that?

  Joelle tried to shake the image that always flooded her thoughts. It was the picture of a monstrously deformed and hideous creature being placed in her arms. Her child, she thought. . .and she reasoned, her punishment.

  Chapter 11

  With the use of a cane, John limped across the floor. The broad grin on his face was directed at the two men who stood at the opposite side of the room. The first was his Uncle David, the second was his father.

  “I’m almost as good as new,” John said, sweat beading his forehead.

  “I knew if anyone could do it, you could,” Daniel told his son.

  “You’ve got your father’s determination,” David said with a laugh. “And, it’s done you well.”

  “I’d imagine those prayers you had your congregation saying for me didn’t hurt, Uncle David.”

  David nodded. “You bet they didn’t.” After over twenty years of pastoring the largest church in Bandelero, David definitely believed in the power of prayer.

  “So now what are you going to do?” Dan questioned. “As if I had to ask.”

  “You don’t.” John’s face left little doubt to his plan. “I’m going after her.”

  “You can’t overdo it, even now. You’ll tire easier than before, and if you sit a horse very long, you’ll spend the following days nursing your aches and pains.”

  “I’m going after her,” John said firmly. “And when I find her, I’m going to marry her on the spot before she can get away from me again.”

  “Good for you!” David declared. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “Keep those people praying,” John replied with a grin.

  “You’ve got it, and I know God is working through the details as we speak.”

  John limped to the door. “I’m going to get my things ready. I’ve got a train to catch.”

  “John,” Dan said, coming beside his son. “Try not to expect too much at first. It has been over six months.”

  “You talking about my physical condition or my finding Joelle?”

  “Both,” Dan replied seriously.

  “I’ll be fine,” John assured his father. “And, I will find Joelle.”

  

  Joelle enjoyed the mild October weather. She had worked outdoors in the vineyards throughout the summer months, whenever she was not helping Father Cooper. Her time spent outside had darkened her skin to a golden brown and, thankfully, she blended in quite naturally with the Mexican and Indian residents of the small village.

  Carrying a load of mesquite on her head just as the other women did, Joelle looked as though she very well might be the beautiful descendent of Spanish nobility. If they only knew, she laughed to herself.

  Her condition had become quite obvious, and Father Cooper, sensing her need for privacy, had found Joelle a tiny adobe house near the church. Joelle repaid the owner by gathering extra firewood and taking in laundry. She would also bake bread in the horno, a domed-shaped, adobe oven that sat outdoors. She could not say that she was happy, but she had become complacent. She still thought of John and her parents, as well as
Lillie and Dan, but the child she carried kept her from even letting them know that she was safe.

  “What could I say to them?” she had said to Father Cooper one evening before supper. “John would feel obligated to make the child his own, or my parents would feel the need to shelter me and take over the task for themselves. I can’t burden them like that, not even for my own comfort.”

  “What is it that you want, Joelle?” Father Cooper had quietly asked. They were strolling down the sandy roadway, enjoying the tapestry of colors in the autumn sunset.

  Joelle had thought for a moment. “I can’t tell you or you’d think me ungrateful.”

  “I would never think badly of you, my child.”

  They had walked on in silence, while Joelle struggled to come to terms with what she felt. She had stared past the ramshackle jacales, homes of little more than mud and wooden poles, and she had sighed. She had no words for the sorrow deep inside of her. The ineffable pain that came any time she tried to rationalize her choices caused her to distance herself from even her dear friend.

  “I wish to die,” she had stated simply. Snapping her head up to meet Father Cooper’s eyes, she had frowned. “Does that shock you?”

  “Shock me? No,” Father Cooper had replied with a shake of his head. “You have borne your cross with grace, Joelle. You haven’t complained or grumbled of the great injustice done you, although just that is true. However, God’s Word is clear about life and death. It has never been ours to give or to take. So just as it is impossible for you to have created the life that grows inside your body, it is also quite unreasonable to imagine that you can take one day away from your life here on this earth.”

  “But I’m tired,” Joelle had replied, allowing the weariness to creep into her voice. “I’m just getting through minute by minute, day by day. I have no will to see the future. . .no desire whatsoever to endure even another minute.” She had paused for a moment. “You’ve been so good to me, but I need much more and there is no one who can give it. I’m alone and lonely, and to face the thought of delivering this child scares me to death.”