He paused and leaned on the shovel’s handle. He didn’t want to suffer the fate of the wicked. From attending church when he was young, he had heard all about heaven and hell, and hell wasn’t a place he cared to go. He’d been a foolish, spoiled kid when he left home and had pretty much wasted the past ten years of his life. Wasting the next few decades—or however long he had left—didn’t sit well.
Brooks dropped to his knees, his heart ricocheting in his chest. He gazed up at the sky. “Dear God, Your Word says that You hear the cries of those who call on You. Hear me now. Forgive me of my sins. I confess that I believe in Your Son Jesus Christ, who died for my sins. Save me, God, and make me a new man.”
Tears scalded his eyes, and he wiped them on his sleeves. His hands were grimy and his pants covered in dirt, and a dead coyote lay four feet away, but for the first time in his life, his heart felt pure. He threw back his head and laughed, joy filling his whole being.
Keri shuffled from foot to foot, worried that maybe she shouldn’t have voiced her question. She hadn’t put all that much thought in the past into who her father was, but now she had a festering ache to know.
Her mother blinked several times, mouth gaping. “Your uncle never told you?”
“He knew?” She crossed her arms and gnawed on her lower lip, feeling betrayed. Why would Uncle Will have kept such important news from her if he knew? Did he not think she’d want to know? Or maybe … “Was my father a bad man?”
“No, of course not.” Grace turned and looked out the back door. “I know this will be hard for you, but I don’t feel it’s my place to say.”
Keri grabbed her ma’s shoulder, forcing her to turn and face her. “Why not? Don’t I have a right to know?”
“Of course, but I would have thought he’d have said something to you if he wanted you to know.”
Keri gawked at her ma, not wanting to believe the thought taking form in her mind. “You mean I know him? Does he live in Shoofly?”
Grace nodded.
Her mind raced. She thought of all the men she knew in town and tried to think if any of them had looked at her differently. She tossed her arms out sideways. “Why wouldn’t he have told me? Didn’t he want to know me?”
“I don’t know.” Grace reached for her. “I’m sorry.”
Keri stepped back. “Surely it wasn’t Uncle Will? Is he truly my uncle?”
Her mother lifted a hand to her mouth. “No, of course it wasn’t him. And, yes, Will honestly was my older brother.”
Anger and hurt roiled through her. It was bad enough to know that her mother had sent her away for protection, but to know that her father lived right here in a house nearby and had never once approached her—it was more than she could bear. She sucked in a sob, ran upstairs, and slammed her bedroom door. She collapsed on the bed, tears gushing from her eyes. After nearly dying today and learning about her mother’s awful life, this news was more than she could endure.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A knock sounded on Keri’s door. She rolled over and yawned. Why was she in bed in the middle of the day? She sniffed and rubbed her gritty eyes, and it all came rushing back.
Tap. Tap. “Keri, you have a caller.”
“Tell them I can’t see anyone today.”
“I don’t think he’ll take no for an answer.”
“All right. Fine. Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Keri pushed off her bed, dug around in her dresser for a handkerchief, and blew her nose. She glanced in the mirror and gasped at her red nose and eyes. How could she entertain guests looking like this? She poured some water from the pitcher into the basin and soaked one end of a towel in it and washed her face. She still looked like she had a bad rash, but there was nothing more she could do, so she straightened her blouse and headed downstairs.
Her mother waited at the bottom of the stairs and held out her hand toward the parlor. She smiled, albeit an uncertain smile. “I’ll fix some tea for you and your guest.”
Curious, Keri entered the parlor, and her heart sank like a blacksmith’s anvil dropped into a pond. “Carl.”
He stood, smiling wide, but then he frowned and hurried toward her. He took hold of her shoulders in a far too personal manner. “Keri, whatever is wrong?”
“Nothing you need to be concerned about.” She twisted loose and hurried to the nearest chair.
Carl walked over to the mantel and parked his elbow on it. “I was hoping you’d come to town and see me.”
“We’ve been busy.”
“We?”
Heat warmed her cheeks at the odd tone Carl used. What was he imagining? “Yes, there is much to do on a ranch.”
He pursed his lips. “So, let me get this straight. You not only live on a ranch you no longer own, but you also work here? With the cattle? Out with the men?”
“You make it sound dirty. But, yes, I do. Mainly, I fix the meals, but sometimes I ride out and help with the cattle or work with the horses.” She lifted her chin. “I like helping out.”
Carl barked out a harsh laugh. “That Mr. Morgan is a lucky man.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he gets a free cook—a beautiful one at that—and a free wrangler. A very lucky man indeed.”
Keri jumped up, unable to sit in the face of Carl’s accusation. “It’s not for free. He allows me to stay in my home, and in exchange I work here.” They’d never actually talked about such an arrangement, but that’s how it had worked out, and that was fine with her.
He picked up an old photo, taken at her uncle Will’s request when she was ten, and stared at it. “You were lovely even as a child.”
She didn’t want his compliments or his presence, but she wouldn’t be inhospitable. The rattling of dishes preceded her mother into the room. Grace entered and set the tray on the table. Besides tea, she had added two slices of peach pie. She started to leave, but Keri grabbed her arm, and Grace lifted her brows in a questioning gaze.
“Carl, I’d like to introduce my mother, Grace Langston. Mother, Carl Peters, an old acquaintance.”
“Your mother?” He was obviously taken off guard, but he recovered quickly and pretended to tip his hat, which lay on the coffee table. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Langston.”
Though Grace blanched at the mention of Mrs., she managed a smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Peters. I hope you enjoy your visit. If you’ll excuse me, I need to start supper preparations.”
Carl nodded. Her mother smiled then left the room.
He turned on Keri. “Mother? I thought your mother was dead?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Oh, maybe because you were raised by your uncle.”
She walked over to a window and stared out. How could she explain things in a way that would satisfy Carl? Maybe it was best to avoid the topic altogether. “What did you say was the nature of your visit?”
He walked up behind her then slipped his arms around her waist. Keri stiffened as he nuzzled her ear. “A man doesn’t need a reason to visit his fiancée.”
She spun around and suddenly realized her mistake. Carl grinned down at her like a snake eyeing a mouse. She swallowed and pushed at his arms, which still encircled her. “I have not agreed to marry you; thus I am not your fiancée.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. His hands tightened on her waist. “I’m not a man to trifle with. I’ve waited a long time to marry you, and I will.”
She’d never been afraid of Carl, but she’d never seen him like this before. “Why do you want to marry me?”
His expression softened, and a wistful smile replaced his frown. “I wanted to the day I first saw you marching down the street, trying so valiantly to keep up with your uncle. You were unlike any young lady I’d ever known. I knew then that I wanted you for myself.”
“You didn’t even know me then.”
“Didn’t matter. I know what I want, and I get what I want.”
She shoved him hard, slipped out
of his grasp, and hurried across the room before she turned back to face him. “You might want to take some lessons in deportment. A lady likes to be wooed, not ordered to marry. I think it’s time you leave.”
Grace walked into the room. “Is something wrong?”
“No, Mother. Mr. Peters is leaving.”
“This isn’t over.” He singed her with a glare, snatched his hat off the table, then paused in front of her mother. “Have we met before?”
Grace’s face paled. “I … uh … not that I know of.” Her worried gaze flicked toward Keri.
“Hmm …” Carl glanced down at Keri. “I can give you anything you’d ever want. I’d reconsider if I were you.”
“Good day, Carl.” Keri opened the front door, and after a long, hard stare, he walked out.
“That man gives me the creeps.” Grace wrapped her arm around Keri’s waist. “Are you all right?”
She desperately wanted to ask her mother if Carl had looked familiar, but instead she nodded. “Yes, but I’m afraid of what Carl might do.”
“We’ll face that if the time comes, but most of the time men who are riled just spout off and never follow through.”
Keri closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know how her mother knew that, but she hoped it was true.
But deep down inside, she had a feeling that more trouble was coming.
Keri stared out the train window at the countryside passing in a blur. “I can’t believe I let my mother talk me into this.”
“Aw, relax. It will be fun,” Brooks said.
“You’re like a child sometimes, you know that? How can a staged train crash be fun?”
Brooks turned on the seat, his eyes gleaming. “Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud, Missy. What’s not to like about two trains speeding down the rails and crashing into each other? Think of the explosion it will make.”
“I am, and I feel a headache starting all ready. And don’t call me Missy.”
Brooks chuckled. “Well, at least try to have fun for your mother’s sake. She wanted to do something special for you.”
So she’d bought the train tickets for Keri and Brooks to attend the Crash at Crush that was sponsored by the Katy railroad. Keri shook her head. “I’d have rather had a new pair of pants—or boots. And what kind of a name is Crush for a town, anyway?”
Brooks laughed, drawing a curious glance from the lady in the seat across the aisle. “This coming from a woman who lives near a town called Shoofly? Now that’s a strange name if I ever heard one.” He shook his head. “Besides, from what I read in the newspaper, the town is just a temporary one, set up special for the event and named after that man who thought up the idea. Crash at Crush. It’s rather catchy, don’t you think?”
“I think it’s crazy that this train is so crowded they allowed people to ride on the top.” Keri held up a finger and shushed him. “And quiet down. People are gawking.”
Brooks winked at her then turned toward the gaping woman and tipped his hat. “That’s a mighty pretty dress you’ve got on, ma’am, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
The woman fanned her face as a scarlet blush rose to her cheeks. Keri leaned back in her seat and pinched her forehead. What a charmer Brooks Morgan was. And he had asked her to marry him.
“So, why is the Missouri, Kansas, and Texas Railroad hosting this event? I don’t get it.” Keri watched a small herd of buffalo grazing, but the train barreled past the huge animals.
“It’s a publicity stunt, from what I’ve heard.”
“How can a railroad crashing trains be good for business?”
Brooks waved his hand in the air. “Just look how crowded this car is—people standing in the aisle and even riding on top. With the discount rates for the train tickets and free admission, I imagine this will be a popular event.”
She shrugged, still not understanding how such a day could be considered entertaining. A train crash wasn’t her idea of fun, but it was something different, and walking around on Brooks’s arm with other women green with envy wouldn’t be too bad either. A smile pulled at her lips.
After fifteen minutes of watching the landscape flatten out, Keri yawned. Brooks sat with his long legs stretched out under the seat in front of him. His head dipped forward. Keri needed something to help her stay awake and nudged him in the side. “Tell me something about your past.”
He yawned and stretched. She couldn’t miss the tightness of the fabric across his chest. Her mouth went dry. Brooks turned toward her again, his knees pressing into the side of her dark blue skirt—the skirt her mother had loaned her and had insisted she wear.
He grinned. “I was my mother’s favorite child.”
Keri rolled her eyes, but the image of a young Brooks charming his mother with his pretty eyes and wide smile came easily.
“Josh is my older brother. My parents adopted him when he was three. He’s probably a doctor by now.” Brooks shrugged, but the thought of Josh being so successful when he had wasted the last ten years of his life left a bad taste in his mouth.
“I also have an older sister named Melissa. I guess I like calling you Missy because that’s what we often called Sis. I often conned my naïve younger brother Phillip into doing my chores with promises of things that never materialized.” He cocked one side of his mouth up, as if he now regretted his actions.
“Guess I wasn’t too great of a big brother to Phillip.” He glanced past her, staring out the window. “My pa thought I was lazy, but I just saw it as outsmarting my brother. Pa pushed me hard, and I didn’t like it. I left home at sixteen, wanting nothing more to do with my father’s ranch or his religion. I drifted for the past decade, doing almost any job I could find.” He blew out a sigh and looked at her again then smiled. “But I’m older now—and wiser.”
“That’s a rather sad story.” She couldn’t help comparing how he’d had what sounded like a good family and walked away from it when all she ever wanted was a family.
“I’ve wanted to stop drifting for a long while now, but I never had anywhere to go. Raven Creek is my chance to do that.”
No wonder he refused to give her the ranch. It still hurt that her uncle hadn’t saved it for her as he’d always said he would, but if she couldn’t have it, she was glad someone like Brooks, who wanted it so badly, got it. She thought of his family again—another mother out there wondering about her child. A father who bore the heartache of a lost son. Siblings who never saw their brother fully grown. “Why have you never gone home?”
He shrugged. “I guess mainly because I’m ashamed of how I acted back then.”
She turned and touched his arm. “Oh, Brooks. You need to go home and reconcile with your family. Trust me when I say how much that will help you.”
“You know the ironic thing?”
“What?”
“They live just outside of Waco.”
“Waco? Why, that’s not far from where we’ll be.”
“I know.”
“Maybe we should—”
“No.” His deep blue eyes darkened, and the charmer had been replaced by someone she didn’t know. “I’m not ready yet. I want to make something of myself before I face them again. I want to prove to my pa that I’m responsible.”
Keri leaned her head back and stared out the window. Now she understood why Brooks smiled so much—he was trying to keep the hurt away.
Brooks knew they’d be in Crush soon, but he scooted down in the seat and hung his hat over his face. Why had he suddenly turned chatty and told Keri his life story?
Because he wanted her to know the real Brooks Morgan, not the phony, grinning rascal she thought him to be. But nothing he’d said today would make her want to be harnessed to him for the rest of her life. She’d be smart to run the other way.
Instant chastisement beseeched him to not put himself down. He was now a precious child of the King, God the Father. He had a lot to learn about God’s ways, but he knew making Keri feel sorry for him wasn’t the right thing to do. If
he truly loved her, he needed to make her feel special—cherished. Maybe now that she was away from the ranch and with just him all day, he could do that.
The train slowed and the brakes screeched as it stopped. The people who had stood in the aisles for most of the trip headed for the doors.
Keri sucked in a breath. “Look! They’ve got a circus tent, and I can see the trains. They’re painted green and red. How fun!”
He leaned against her shoulder and stared out the window. “Look over there—see the hills on opposite sides of the tracks? That’s where all the spectators will sit. And have you ever seen so many people?”
She shook her head. “There must be thousands of them. Why, this little town must be the most populated one in the whole state of Texas.” She giggled and glanced at him.
His gaze locked onto hers, and he couldn’t look away. His breath caught in his throat. She was so pretty. He wanted to kiss her, and he allowed his gaze to drop to Keri’s lips. A lady behind him coughed, pulling him back to reality. “Guess we’d better go.”
“Um … sure.”
Outside the train, the air was abuzz with excitement. Brooks held Keri’s arm and moved with the crowd toward the tents. “If we happen to get separated, let’s meet at that small wooden building.”
Keri nodded. “Can we see what’s in that huge circus tent?”
“Sure.” Brooks kept her close, and soon they were at the tent—a restaurant. Stomach-tingling aromas wafted out the open flaps. “Are you ready for some dinner, or would you rather see what else there is first?”
She looked around. “The line here isn’t too bad. Why don’t we go ahead and eat?”
After passing through a line and selecting their food, they sat down at a table and were soon joined by two other couples.
A thin man with a long face and big eyes pointed his empty fork at Brooks. “Where you folks from?”
“Shoofly.” He speared a fat sliced carrot. “How about you?”
“Austin.”
End of the Trail Page 16