by Lori Wick
“Where were we?” he asked, and to his surprise Rebecca knew instantly.
“You were saying you knew your grandmother.”
“Oh, yes, until I was ten, when she died of consumption.”
“Were you close to her?”
Travis shook his head. “No one in my family was what you could call close, but I did care for her.”
“Whom did she tell you to take care of?” Rebecca seemed fascinated.
The waitress picked that moment to tell them what was on the evening’s menu, but she was gone a few minutes later, leaving them with hot cups of coffee.
“She told me to take care of my mother,” Travis went on. “My father had run off for a time; he did that often. But this time my mother was sick, and my grandmother had gone up the street to help a woman give birth. I was so little, probably five like the boys, or maybe even four, and her telling me to take care of my mother made me feel very proud.”
Rebecca’s eyes were thoughtful. “The boys felt pride, too. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I do now. They were very pleased to tell me what you had said.”
The couple fell silent for a moment.
“Did your mother die at that time, Travis?”
“Not right then. In fact, she died just before I met you.”
“Oh, Travis.” There was real compassion in Rebecca’s eyes. “You never said.”
“No.” His voice was quiet. “It was too new and painful at the time. I didn’t grow up in a very happy home, and having my mother die just added to the sadness.”
Again silence fell, and then Travis spoke thoughtfully. “My mother and I were alone much of the time. I worked on a cattle ranch from the time I was just a kid, always trying to bring enough home so we could eat, as well as keep ahead of the bills my father ran up at the saloon whenever he wandered back into town. I heard later that he died in a fire.”
Travis’ gaze had been on his hands, but he now looked at his wife. She looked upset, and he suddenly realized he had not planned to spend the evening on such a cheerless note. It was all true; he was the man he was today because of where he’d been, but tonight he wanted to center on Rebecca.
“So tell me,” he said, his tone changing to one of interest, not introspection, a smile lighting his face. “Did the boys take care of you?”
“I guess they did,” Rebecca answered with a smile of her own. “They played outside for most of the morning, and the two times I asked them to obey me, they did so very swiftly.”
Travis nodded with satisfaction. “Good. It means that all our talking and even the spankings are getting somewhere.”
Rebecca nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. She was sorry about his mother and the hard life he had lived, but her thoughts were on Travis’ father and then her own. Why did men go away and leave their families? Rebecca started slightly when Travis touched her hand.
“Are you all right?”
“I think so. Why?”
“You looked so sad.”
Rebecca looked down at the table. “I was thinking about the way my father left me in Philadelphia, and now I learn that your father left you too. Why do men do that, Travis? Why do men have children and then abandon them?”
Travis’ brows rose. It was a good question. “I think men are tempted to wander no matter what, but the reasons must vary. With my father it was disillusionment, or so my grandmother used to say. At the time they were married, my mother was beautiful, but she was sick a lot after I was born. She lost her looks and her desire to roam around the country, so he roamed without her. By the time my mother died, I hadn’t seen my father in a year.”
Just then their food was placed in front of them. Travis said a brief prayer of thanks for the meal, and then asked a question for which he knew the answer but had no details. “So your father didn’t stick around either, Rebecca?”
“No,” she answered honestly, “but he didn’t actually desert me. We were living in Philadelphia with my father’s sister, Hannah, and her husband, Franklin Ellenbolt. Father came west to make a place and name for himself. He had every intention of coming back for me but circumstances arose that neither of us could have stopped.”
Travis cocked his head to one side. “Can you tell me about it, or does it hurt too much?”
“It did for a long time, but it’s so far in the past now.” Rebecca took a breath. “I never saw the letters my father wrote to me, nor did he see mine. My Aunt Hannah was a sick woman. She intercepted all of our letters, copied our handwriting, and rewrote them so we would read what she wanted us to hear. She lied—not too outrageously, because we would have caught on—but enough so that both my father and I were under the impression that we were both happy with our lives the way they were. I didn’t think he wanted me, and he felt the same about me. She even wrote me that my father was involved with a woman, and thinking that my father had said it, I naturally believed it.”
Travis’ face was a mask of shock, his brows raised in incredulous question.
“It’s true,” Rebecca assured him. “I discovered her deception very suddenly and left two days later, before she could stop me. I hated her for a long time.” Her voice grew very soft. “But I’ve learned that people will do desperate things when they think they have a reason.”
Suddenly they were no longer talking about Aunt Hannah; Travis knew it, and Rebecca knew it. Travis reached across the table just as he had before and touched his wife’s hand very briefly.
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you, Rebecca,” he told her sincerely. “And your view of me hasn’t been very positive, but I’m very glad you’re home.”
“Thank you, Travis. For the first time, I’m glad too.”
Travis’ heart filled with contentment until she went on.
“I didn’t realize how much I needed help with the boys.”
Disappointment knifed through Travis, but he was careful not to show it. He was again reminded that she wanted him only as a father to her boys. He forced his mind to other things.
“When I met you here in town that day, you had just come from Philadelphia?”
“Yes,” Rebecca answered very softly but didn’t elaborate. Travis was not to know that she was remembering for the first time how she felt when she saw him, his hat in his hand, his deep voice calling her “Miss Rebecca.” She had lost her heart in that moment and wasn’t sure even yet if she’d ever recovered it.
Suddenly she was back in Pine Grove, coming from her laundry area to find him standing in her living room, tall and gorgeous and looking ready to eat her alive. She relived the scene in the living room at the ranch when he’d pulled her to her feet and tenderly kissed her brow. And then in the master bedroom when he held her tightly in his arms. The kiss had been so wonderful and sweet.
Fish or cut bait. The voice came out of nowhere to Rebecca’s mind. Are you going to make a marriage of this or not, Rebecca? You can run but you can’t hide. Travis clearly cares for you, or you wouldn’t be in town tonight. Now, what are you going to do about it?
“That’s certainly a fierce look.” Travis deliberately kept his voice light. “Am I in trouble?”
Rebecca gave a small laugh, her cheeks heating. “No, I am.”
Travis opened his mouth to question her, but the look she gave him from behind the glasses did not invite inquiries. They ate for a time in silence. It was as Travis predicted: The meal was good but not comparable to Lavena’s cooking. Dessert was a nice treat of fresh apple pie, full of cinnamon and sugar. Travis finished Rebecca’s when she said she was too full. She then toyed with her coffee cup and studied him.
“I want to say that you’re different than before, Travis, but I didn’t know you well enough to tell. Are you different?”
The question totally surprised him, but he answered calmly enough. “I think I am, Rebecca, and my close friends say I’m different. I believe it’s because a few years ago something happened that changed me completely.” Travis didn’t go on, not because he was af
raid, but because a look of cynicism had entered Rebecca’s eyes. His own eyes dropped. He ended with, “I can tell you sometime if you want to hear.”
“Not now?” Her tone was cynical too.
Travis looked her in the eye. “Do you want to hear right now?”
Shame washed over Rebecca, and for the first time she didn’t fight it with anger.
“That was horrid of me, Travis. I ask and then cut you off. I do care, but I’m a little afraid of what you’re going to say. Did you say you would be willing to tell me another time?”
“Yes, I did. Just ask me when you’re ready.”
“I’ll do that. It, umm, I mean, it has to do with the church, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t put it that way, but you could say it does.”
“How would you put it?”
“I would say it was Jesus Christ. Church is an important part of my life to be sure, but so often when people talk about church, they’re taking about religion. I’m talking about a real relationship with God through His Son, Jesus.”
Her eyes didn’t shutter or become cynical, but Travis stopped there. He felt a certain peace steal over him. He had planned for this to be a night to get to know Rebecca, but the Lord had also opened up an opportunity to talk about Him. Travis left the hotel with a strong feeling of contentment.
The conversation was light on the ride home. Rebecca went with Travis to the barn when he stabled the horses for the night. They continued to talk about the ranch and other topics. Once inside the kitchen, Travis took her coat and then brought up the subject of Christmas.
“I’m going to tell Robert and Eddie that we’ll join them another year.” Rebecca could only look at him, her lip tucked under her teeth. Travis went on. “I think you’ll be more comfortable if we just stay here.”
“You would do that for me?”
“Certainly. And I know we’ll have a great time on our own.”
“Thank you, Travis.”
“My pleasure. You realize it’s six days away?”
“It is, isn’t it?” She was very serious. “I haven’t even shopped.”
“Well, you’d better get at it. I expect a huge gift from you.”
Rebecca’s eyes shot up to see he was laughing at her. “You can stop that teasing, Travis Buchanan,” she now scolded him, “or there won’t be a thing under the tree with your name on it.”
“You could put yourself under the tree,” he told her with merry eyes, his smile warm.
Rebecca pushed down the pleasure that spiraled inside of her and told herself not to laugh and encourage him. She opted to change the subject. “Speaking of trees, when are we going to get one?”
“This is Tuesday. How about Friday or Saturday?”
“Will we take the boys?”
“Certainly. We’ll make an outing of it. Do you suppose Lavena will want to come?”
Travis had heard her come up behind him and enjoyed teasing her.
“That’s all I need, to be dragging through the snow and cold in search of a Christmas tree!” Lavena almost snorted her disgust.
They both smiled at her tone but tried to cover it as they turned.
“How was your meal?” Her voice was a bit softer.
“Not as good as your cooking, but it was nice to get away,” Travis told her honestly. “How were the boys?”
Both younger adults watched in amazement as a tender light came into Lavena’s eyes. “They both did fine. They cried when you weren’t here to kiss them good night, so I let them sleep in my bed.”
“The boys are in your room?” Rebecca’s voice was incredulous.
Travis was already moving that way, and the women followed.
“I’ll move them upstairs,” Travis said, his voice hushed.
“Oh, leave them, Travis, for mercy’s sake! I’m fine in the living room, and I can hear them if they cry.”
Travis and Rebecca exchanged looks but remained silent.
“Go on now before you wake them! It’s after 9:00. You should all be in bed.”
Travis and Rebecca allowed themselves to be bullied out of the room and toward the stairs. Rebecca started up, but Travis stayed below and bid her good night.
“Not coming up?”
“Not yet. I’ve some papers to see to in the office.”
Rebecca hated for the evening to end. She had dreaded it but without grounds; the entire evening had been wonderful. She was glad, however, that her face was in the shadows, and Travis couldn’t read this in her eyes.
“Good night, Travis. Thank you for the evening.”
“You’re welcome. We’ll have to do it again.”
Rebecca went on her way, and Travis went to the office, but it was a while before the small blonde actually readied for bed or until Travis moved to read his papers.
37
“You pray, don’t you, Travis?”
Travis turned his head very slowly, and he looked at his foreman. The men were in the barn at the end of the day. The other hands had headed to the cookhouse, and the owner and foreman were alone.
“Yes, Lucky, I do,” Travis told him softly. “Why do you ask?”
Travis noticed for the first time that Lucky’s eyes were red-rimmed, and that Lucky was looking at him in a kind of desperation.
“Sarah Beth choked last night,” Lucky told him, referring to his 4½-year-old daughter. “She got some meat lodged in her throat.” Lucky shuddered slightly as he remembered. “I thought we were going to lose her.”
“Is she all right?” Travis asked as alarm slammed through him. He didn’t see Sarah Beth very often, but she and Margo were precious to him.
“Yeah,” Lucky told him, his throat tight. “But I can’t stop thinking about it. I mean, I really think God saved her, Travis, and I want to thank Him, but I don’t have a clue as to how. None of us did a thing. We all froze while she got blue in the face, and then before any of us could get to her, she suddenly spit it up. I know it was God, Travis, but how do I—” Lucky raked a hand through his hair, and Travis worked at keeping his thoughts clear. Never in a decade would he have guessed that God would work this way.
“I think God must be very pleased that you want to thank Him, Lucky.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” Travis told him sincerely. “We can get too attached to this world, and when something reminds us that we wouldn’t even be here without a Creator-God, well, I think that’s good.”
“I’ve never felt this way, Travis,” Lucky admitted. “I know you go to church, and Margo’s mother tries to pray, but I’ve never felt anything toward God, not really. And then last night I held Sarah Beth, you know, afterward. She cried and cried, and I wanted to cry myself. I wanted to thank God for letting her live. I don’t know where the thought came from, but I still want to.”
“I’d be happy to pray with you right now, Lucky. We can take time right this minute to thank God for sparing Sarah Beth.”
Lucky gawked at him. “You don’t have to be in church?”
“No. God is everywhere, and He delights to hear the voices of the people who have made Him their Lord.”
The young cowboy’s look sobered. “I haven’t done that, Travis. I haven’t ever prayed before.”
“God already knows that, Lucky, and He takes it very seriously, but He loves you anyway. I can pray if you’d like.”
“You can do it for me?”
“Well, I can’t commit your life to Him—you would need to do that—but I can thank Him for sparing Sarah Beth.”
Lucky nodded. “Should we get on our knees?”
“It’s awfully cold, Lucky. The Lord will understand if we stay on our feet.”
Again Lucky nodded, his heart pounding. At the last moment he remembered to remove his hat.
“Father in heaven,” Travis began, his voice utterly normal, “I thank You that Lucky is my foreman. He works hard and is an asset to this ranch. I also thank You that You’ve given him Margo and Sarah Beth. You have blessed him
greatly, Lord, and for the first time Lucky is seeing this. I thank You, Father, that You saved little Sarah’s life. We could be praying near her grave right now, Lord, but You had other plans. I thank You that she is still with us and that Lucky understands Your hand moved or she would not be here. Please continue to show Lucky what You would have him know about You, and help him to listen. I pray these things in Christ’s name, Amen.”
Travis opened his eyes to find Lucky staring at him.
“You just talk to Him, Travis,” he said, his voice amazed. “I didn’t think it was that easy.”
“It is after you’ve accepted God’s gift of salvation.”
Lucky nodded. He was feeling so overwhelmed that he could hardly speak.
“Are you all right?” Travis asked, wondering if he should question him concerning eternity.
“I think so. Thank you.”
Travis’ hand came out. “Anytime, Lucky. You know where to find me.”
“I’d better get home now.”
Travis walked Lucky to the barn door, the reins to Lucky’s horse dangling in the younger man’s hand. He swung up into the saddle and looked down at his boss.
“I think Margo feels the same way, Travis. Can I tell her that you prayed?”
“Certainly. Tell her everything we talked about. There’s much more to be learned. Maybe the three of you will want to come to church on Sunday.”
Lucky’s eyes went to the mountains, his heart and mind busy. “It feels like snow,” he commented, although it was not to change the subject.
“Yeah. You stay put if we end up in a blizzard. There’s nothing pressing here right now.”
“Good night, Travis, and thanks again.”
“Good night, Lucky.”
Travis stood still as the other cowboy moved down the road. It was hard to believe what had just happened, but Travis prayed for his friend and foreman. He prayed that God would work a miracle in Lucky’s heart, just as He had in his own not too many years before.
Snow began to fall later that night. It fell all day Thursday, through the night, and until noon on Friday. Travis went to the barn, but the men and horses all stayed indoors until Saturday. By the time the four Buchanans left that morning to find their tree, they were knee-deep in white powder. The sun was shining, however, and it promised to be one of the most beautiful Christmases they had ever known.