by Al Lacy
“So which of the four hostile tribes do you consider the best warriors, McClain?” queried Burt.
“It’s a toss-up between the Sioux and the Cheyenne.”
“Why didn’t that Lieutenant Barlow mention the other tribes when he warned Chet about the Cheyenne threat?”
“Because the Oregon Trail only goes through Cheyenne land. I said it’s possible that we could face all four, but only if the other three happen to be riding through these parts. Our greatest threat is the Cheyenne.”
“So they’re pretty tough?”
“That’s putting it mildly. They are fierce fighters. They are courageous and they are savage. I hope we don’t have to fight them.”
Fear showed on Dorothy’s face. “McClain, do they kill women and children when they attack?”
“Yes, they do. They don’t discriminate when they attack white people. They mean to kill every one of us. Like I said, I hope we don’t have to fight them.”
Dorothy’s lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, this is horrible! I’m so frightened I can hardly breathe!”
Rya moistened her lips and took hold of Dorothy’s hand. “Honey, none of us can say we aren’t frightened with this Indian threat hanging over us. The butterflies are rioting in my stomach right now. But I have peace in my heart that if the Indians should attack and kill me, I will go to heaven. I know that for sure. If you will open your heart to Jesus, He will save you, forgive all your sins, and give you peace about facing eternity.”
Dorothy sniffed and wiped tears from her cheeks with a hankie. “Rya, I want to hear more about being saved. I know I’ve changed the subject every time you’ve brought it up and haven’t given you a chance to explain it to me. Burt has done the same thing. I’d like for you to—”
“Aw now, Dorothy,” cut in Burt, “there’s no reason to get so upset. There are plenty of guns on this train, and a good supply of ammunition. We can handle anything those savages throw at us.”
Dorothy stared at him for a moment, then turned her line of sight straight ahead and rode in silence, dabbing at her tears.
Rya looked down at McClain as he kept pace with the wagon. When her gaze locked with his, he saw her brow furrow. We’ll talk about it later, he mouthed silently.
When the wagons made their circle that evening, the men began building a large central fire so all the women could cook another communal meal.
Rya was helping Dorothy slice potatoes at the Keegan wagon when McClain came by and asked if he could talk to her for a moment. She excused herself to Dorothy, and they stepped away until they were at a spot where no one could hear them.
McClain said, “Honey, I think if you could talk to Dorothy when Burt isn’t around, you could lead her to the Lord.”
“She sure seems ready to listen. It’s an answer to our prayers. As stubborn as Burt is about it, I believe we’re going to have to reach Dorothy first. Once she’s saved, it may make it easier to win him over.”
“Right.”
“Well, we will have to pray for wisdom from the Lord and ask Him to lead us so we can handle it correctly, and to give me the opening I need when we’re alone.”
“Yes. And while we’re praying that way, we’ll ask God to give us wisdom even now when we’re with Burt, that we can plant and water the seed. Since there’s no class tonight, let’s sit with them at supper so if the Lord gives us any kind of an opening, we can take it.”
“I was about to suggest that myself. Seems like all great minds run on the same track.”
McClain playfully clipped her chin. “That’s what I love about you. You’re so smart!”
She smiled. “I’d better get back to Dorothy. See you at supper.”
While Rya, McClain, and the Keegans were eating together, they talked about the Indian threat for a few minutes, then Dorothy said, “Rya, I told you earlier today that I want to hear more about salvation. Would you and McClain talk to me after supper?”
Burt was chewing his food and frowned. Dorothy saw the frown, but ignored it as Rya said, “We’d love to.”
“Good. We’ll go inside the wagon so we won’t be bothered.”
McClain looked at Burt. “We’d love to have you sit in on it, too.”
The frown on Burt’s brow melted into a sour look that spread over his entire face.
Burt Keegan still had a sour look as the four of them sat inside the wagon with two lanterns burning. Rya was sitting next to Dorothy with her Bible in hand, and McClain was sitting next to Burt as he opened his Bible and said, “Let me show you what God says about our state before Him as sinners who are headed for eternity and judgment. Rya, if you will follow in your Bible so Dorothy can see it, I’ll let Burt look on mine. Let’s go to 1 John chapter 3. I want to give you God’s definition of sin.”
Rya angled the page so Dorothy could easily see it.
Putting a finger on the spot he wanted, McClain said, “Look at verse 4. ‘Whosoever committeth sin transgresseth also the law: for sin is the transgression of the law.’ Now, the law God is referring to here is this Bible. His written Word. He calls it His law over and over again. David wrote about it repeatedly in the Psalms. In one place he wrote and said to God, ‘The law of thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver.’ In another place he said, ‘Horror hath taken hold upon me because of the wicked that forsake thy law.’
“So we see that when we transgress His Word, we sin. Now, let’s look in Romans chapter 5 and see what God says about it there.”
When both Bibles were open to the designated passage, McClain said, “Burt, how about you reading verse 12 for us?”
Burt’s voice was weak as he read it aloud, ‘Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned.’ ”
“All right, Burt,” said McClain. “Are any of us sinless?”
“No.”
“So we have all transgressed God’s law, haven’t we?”
Burt cleared his throat. “Uh … yes.”
McClain looked at Dorothy. “We’re all sinners, right?”
Dorothy nodded, her lips pressed tight. “Yes.”
“Now, you will notice,” McClain proceeded, “that it says by one man sin entered into the world, and death came as a result of sin. All men have to die, don’t they? And that one man referred to is named in verse fourteen. Adam. So Adam’s sin brought physical death on himself and all of his descendants, right?”
The Keegans nodded.
“And, of course,” said McClain, “we deserve death, ourselves, because we are sinners by choice, just like Adam was. Now, we’re talking about physical death that came upon all mankind because of sin. But there is also spiritual death, and this was passed on to us by Adam. Just as sure as physical death. We were all born physically alive, but spiritually dead. Therefore we must be born of the Spirit to be alive spiritually.
“Paul wrote to born-again people in Ephesians 2:1 and said, ‘And you hath he quickened who were dead in trespasses and sins.’ What you need, Dorothy, Burt, is to be brought to life spiritually so you don’t have to spend eternity in the lake of fire, which God calls the second death. Born only once, you die twice. Born twice, you can only die once—physically.
“Okay, let’s see how a person gets born again. John 1:12 and 13. Of Jesus Christ, it says, ‘But as many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of God, even to them that believe on his name: Which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.’ It’s God who gives the new birth. And please notice that we sinners have to become the sons of God. We are God’s creation, but we are not His children until we’re born again, and only God’s children go to heaven when they die.”
“That’s right,” said Rya. “And when we receive Jesus, according to Ephesians 3:17, we receive Him into our hearts.”
“And we do that by calling on Jesus,” said McClain. “We repent of our sin, and beli
eving the gospel, receive Him into our hearts as our personal Saviour.”
Tears were streaming down Dorothy’s cheeks. “I want to do that right now!”
“Wonderful!” said McClain, then he looked at Burt. “How about you, my friend?”
Burt shook his head. “It makes sense to me, all right, but I’m not ready to do it.”
“All right,” McClain said. “Dorothy, let’s bow our heads. If you would like help in what to say to the Lord, Rya will do that.”
Dorothy wiped tears. Looking at Rya, she said, “Help me, please.”
Burt looked on while Rya led Dorothy to the Lord. While the two women were embracing, shedding tears of joy, McClain turned to Burt and laid a hand on his arm. “Burt, won’t you open your heart to Jesus, too?
Burt drew a deep breath and set steady eyes on McClain. “I’ve got plenty of time to tend to this. There’s no need to be concerned about getting saved now.”
McClain quickly flipped to Psalm 90. Putting his finger on verse 12, he said, “Read that to me. This is Moses talking to God.”
Burt licked his dry lips. “ ‘So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.’ ”
“Now, think on those words, Burt, while I go to another verse.” McClain turned to Psalm 39 and put his finger on verse 4. “Read that to me.”
Burt’s voice was shaky as he read it aloud: “ ‘LORD, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am.’ ”
McClain then tried to convince Burt that every person on earth lived their life one frail heartbeat at a time, never knowing when the last beat would come. He pointed out that for saved people, it only meant that when their hearts beat for the last time, they were immediately absent from the body and present in heaven with the Lord. But for lost people, it meant their last heartbeat would deliver them into the flames of hell.
McClain’s voice broke as he said, “Burt, you need to apply your heart unto wisdom by repenting of your sin and receiving the Lord Jesus into your heart as your Saviour before it’s too late.”
Still clinging to Rya, Dorothy looked at her husband. “He’s right, dear. You need to settle it right now.”
Burt pressed a weak smile on his lips. “Dottie, I’m not ready to do that. Besides, there’s plenty of time to take care of it later.”
Tears filmed Rya’s eyes. “But Burt, you don’t know that. This is why God says now is the day of salvation.”
“Well, won’t tomorrow, or next week, or next year be now when they get there?” argued Burt.
McClain chuckled. “Sure, if you live that long. But what if you don’t?”
Burt looked at him blankly.
“Let me tell you about an ancient custom they used to have in some of the central European countries. Chaplain Fremont at Fort Steele told us about it in a sermon. The custom was, that they would put an hourglass into the coffin of the dead to signify that their time on earth had run out. Chaplain Fremont’s comment was, ‘The hourglass was a useless notification to the dead person. Much better to put an hourglass into the hand of every living person and show them the grains of sand gliding steadily to the bottom, signifying that soon life will be gone.’ What do you say to that?”
Burt squared his shoulders. “I don’t say anything to it right now, McClain. Like I said, I’m not ready to get saved.”
As the days passed, Rya and McClain fell deeper in love while making plans for their future. They discussed Roy and Elsa Gibbs, in whose home Rya was to live when she reached Sacramento.
The Gibbses had come to Bowling Green after McClain and his family were gone, but Rya had told him that they were dedicated Christians and wonderful people. She knew they would be happy for her and would let her stay with them until the wedding. Rya had also told McClain that in her correspondence with Roy and Elsa, they told her they belonged to a solid Bible-believing church in Sacramento, so she and McClain would have a good church.
Late one afternoon, Rya was sitting in the back of a wagon belonging to a young couple named Brodie and Jane Hyland, who were from a farming community near St. Louis. With Rya were Jane Hyland and Betty Hilmes. While the wagon rocked and bumped along the trail, Jane was suggesting some ideas to Betty and Rya about their weddings, and the two brides-to-be were listening intently.
All three were laughing about something funny Jane had said when they looked up to see McClain appear at the rear of the wagon on Chet Place’s horse.
“Darling, did you take over Chet’s job?” said Rya.
“No. We’re about to pass by Fort Steele. Chet is letting me use the horse to ride over there. I want to see some of my friends. I’ll catch up to the wagon train when it stops to make camp for the night.”
“Oh, of course,” said Rya, leaning over the tailgate to look northward. She could make out the stockade fence that surrounded the fort and the gate tower with Old Glory on a pole, flapping in the breeze.
“I’ll see you at suppertime.” He glanced at Jane and Betty, then looked back into Rya’s blue eyes. “I love you.”
As Rya was watching McClain gallop the horse toward Fort Steele, Betty said, “I can hardly wait to hear Chris say those three little words to me.”
Fort Steele had passed from view about an hour previously when the wagons completed their circle. The sun’s fiery rim was still visible on the horizon as some of the men were building fires and others were making a rope corral. The women were busy preparing supper.
Rya and Dorothy were working together when Dorothy glanced at the setting sun and looked at Rya. “Shouldn’t McClain be getting here?”
“Yes, he should. He said he’d see me at suppertime. I’ll go see if he’s coming.”
Moving between the Keegan wagon and the one behind it, Rya looked eastward, and a smile broke across her face when she saw a rider galloping toward the wagon train. He was close enough that she decided to wait for him and welcome him home with a kiss.
After a minute or so, she saw that the horse was gray. Chet’s horse was a sorrel.
She started to turn back between the wagons when she saw the rider lift his hat and wave. She paused, focusing on him, and moments later, she could make out his face. Her heart seemed to stop and her stomach went sour.
It was Jason Lynch.
“Lord help me,” she breathed.
Jason brought the gray to a halt, slid from the saddle, and hurried to her. “Rya! I’ve finally found you! It’s so good to see you!”
When he moved up with open arms, she took a step back. “Go on back home, Jason.”
“Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“No, I’m not glad to see you. You have made this trip for nothing.”
Jason put on a hurt look. “But, Rya, I still love you and want to marry you.”
Rya saw another rider galloping toward the wagon train from the east. “Jason, I’m engaged to marry a man who is in this wagon train. We’re going to get married when we reach Sacramento. The best thing for you to do is turn around right now and leave.”
“You belong to me!” Jason said. “You have no right to marry this other guy!”
“Jason, I have never been in love with you. And I never told you that you had any claim on me.”
Jason grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “I know you love me! I’ve come to marry you and make a new life in Sacramento!”
“I’m not marrying you!” Rya snapped as she tried to wrest herself from his grasp.
Chet Place and some of the men were hurrying across the circle, having heard the angry voices.
McClain was thundering in on the sorrel, his eyes set on the stranger who was manhandling the woman he loved.
“Let go of me, Jason!” Rya said. “Let go of me!”
Just as Chet and the others came between the wagons, McClain was out of the saddle. He threw a neck lock on Jason, squeezing him in a viselike hold. The sudden pain made Jason let go.
Rya backed away, her midsection on fire.
McClain let go of Jason, who slumped to the ground, holding his throat.
McClain stood over him and looked at Rya. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”
Rya rushed to him. “Yes, I’m fine.”
He took hold of her hand and looked back down at the gagging man. “Who is this guy? Do you know him?”
Before Rya could answer, Jason kicked McClain’s leg, toppling him.
McClain hit the ground but sprang to his feet, eyes fixed on Jason. Rya felt Chet Place’s hand on her arm. He pulled her back a few steps.
Jason cursed McClain as he scrambled to his feet then lunged at him.
McClain dodged the blow and pounded Jason with a right, a left, and another right. The last punch lifted Jason off his feet and dropped him on his back He was out cold.
Rya rushed to McClain again. He took her in his arms and looked into her eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. I’m not hurt.”
By this time men, women, and children had come from the wagon circle and were looking on. Rya said in everybody’s hearing, “His name is Jason Lynch. He’s from Virginia.” Rya went on to tell McClain of Jason’s harassment of her.
A moan came from the man on the ground.
“I have told Jason plainly many times that I do not love him and will not marry him,” Rya said, “but he won’t take no for an answer. When he rode up here, I had come out to see if I could get a glimpse of you riding in. He said he had come to marry me and make a new life in Sacramento. When I told him I was engaged to marry a man in the wagon train, he went crazy.”
McClain turned to see Jason Lynch sitting up, shaking his head. Both lips were split and bleeding.
“Excuse me, Rya,” McClain said, and moved to Jason while everyone in the crowd looked on.
Grasping his shirt collar, he jerked him to his feet and said, “Get on your horse and ride. Go back to where you came from. Rya is my fiancée. Don’t you ever come around her again.”
Jason’s eyes were still a bit glazed, but he focused them on McClain as best he could. He wiped blood from his lips and growled, “You can’t tell me what to do.”