Measure of Grace

by Al Lacy

  Holding the pliers and wrench, Nolan laughed. “This makes me feel good, Ace! In time, this kid’s pa will give him up for dead.”

  “Yeah!” Decker laughed. “And the sufferin’ that goes with it is our sweet revenge.”

  Jordan closed his eyes and bit down on his lower lip. It was of no use to remind them of how his mother and sister would suffer. As they left the room, he opened his eyes and looked that direction through a wall of tears. He heard one of them shove the bolt on the cabin’s front door, then join his friend at the rear door. Jordan heard a padlock snap in place, and moments later, he heard Decker and Nolan trot their horses from the small corral toward the road.

  As the sound of pounding hooves faded away, Jordan broke down and sobbed. He rued the day he first got into trouble with the law. “Jordan, you fool! None of this would have happened if you hadn’t been so hotheaded.”

  He wept for a long time, his heart heavy for the suffering his family was going to bear. He thought of Lorene and Mark. Unless he could find a way to escape, he would not be there for their wedding on Saturday, June 18, which was less than two weeks away. And Mark had asked him to be one of his groomsmen along with Knight Colburn.

  Gritting his teeth and shaking his head, he said aloud, “I’ve got to come up with a way to escape. I’ve got to!”

  Late in the afternoon on the fourth day of leading his search party through forests and canyons, across streams, and into caves in the Sawtooth Mountains, Marshal Woodard rendezvoused his teams of two at the base of Castle Peak.

  His features were granitelike as each pair reported no sign of Jordan’s remains. Woodard had kept William Shaw with him. Turning in his saddle to look at him, he said, “William, from the evidence I’ve seen: the tattered, bloody jacket; the grizzly’s paw prints in the woods where Jordan was chopping wood; all the blood in the area; and the bear’s tracks leading to higher ground, tell me that after the grizzly killed Jordan, it took the body to some remote spot and—well, enough said.”

  Wiping tears, William nodded. “I can see that it’s futile to keep searching any longer, Mike. These men need to get home to their families. Mark, Knight, and I need to go home, too.”

  With heavy hearts, the men turned their tired horses southward and headed toward lower ground.

  William Shaw was in the depths of despair, knowing that this horrendous tragedy was all his fault. If only he not had been so hardheaded and stubborn …

  How am I ever going to live with this? he asked himself as he rocked in the saddle. How am I going to face Sylvia and Lorene day after day from now on, knowing that Jordan was mauled by that grizzly because of me? And to add to my guilt, there is no way for closure for them. There is no body to bury … no way for them to say good-bye.

  Dusk was on the land as William, Mark, and Knight rode up to the Bar-S corral and dismounted. A couple of ranch hands were near, and after answering their questions about the search, William asked them to take care of the three horses. As the three of them headed for the back door of the ranch house, William was rehearsing in his mind what he was going to say to his wife and daughter.

  When they stepped into the kitchen, the women were seated around the empty table. Sylvia slowly raised her eyes to meet her husband’s as Lorene and Annie looked on. The grief etched on William’s face was enough to bear the message, but Sylvia had to ask him.

  Drawing a shallow breath, she said, “Find anything?”

  Scrubbing a palm over his face, William said, “Not a trace.”

  Mark went to Lorene, and Knight went to his mother.

  Rising slowly from the chair, Sylvia blinked at the fresh tears in her eyes. William opened his arms, and she stepped into them, collapsing against his chest. Sobs tore from her lips as she cried, “I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it!”

  William’s rehearsed words suddenly seemed inappropriate, and he dismissed them from his mind.

  Lorene stood up, weeping, and Mark folded her into his arms.

  Annie rose from her chair, and Knight locked her neck in the crook of his arm, holding her tight. As he beheld the sorrow of the Shaw family, he felt his own brand of sorrow. It was more than just the death of his closest friend. It was worse, knowing that Jordan had died without Jesus.

  Annie thought of that, too, and of the many times she and Buck had talked to the Shaws about their need to be saved, but she decided that now was not the time to press them about it again. By previous experience with them on the subject, she knew they were not in a frame of mind to listen to her.

  When Sylvia and Lorene had gained control of their emotions, Mark said, “Lorene, maybe we should postpone the wedding. You know, so as to let the natural period for mourning pass.”

  Moving her head slowly back and forth, Lorene said, “Mark, I don’t think Jordan would want us to postpone it. I really don’t.”

  “I don’t either,” said Sylvia. “And besides, even though you two have chosen to have a small wedding with just family and close friends, so much careful planning has gone into both the ceremony and the reception. Everything is set with the minister and the church in Ketcham, and he went out of his way to schedule it on June 18, which he said ordinarily he would only do just for his members. You remember, Mark.”

  Mark nodded. “Yes. I know he had already planned to take his family over to the Craters of the Moon area for an outing that day. They had set the date back in April. I just thought the three of you might rather put the wedding off a few weeks. But you’re right. Too many things are already set.”

  “Not to mention that relatives on both sides of our family who live in the Midwest and back East have already purchased railroad tickets,” said Sylvia.

  Mark nodded.

  “You will have to pick out another groomsman to take Jordan’s place, darling,” said Lorene. “But other than that, everything is in place.”

  “I think I’ll ask Bart Collins,” said Mark.

  “Good choice,” said Lorene. “Bart is certainly one of your closest friends. I’m sure he will be honored to do it.”

  As the days passed, Jordan remained in his cell and in chains when Decker and Nolan were away from the cabin. The more time that passed, the more discouraged he became. There was simply no way he could escape. He told himself he was going to have to wait until his captors took him into the mountains and tied him up in the cave just before they would leave Idaho.

  He was glad, at least, that they were not going to kill him. When he was tied up with the ropes instead of bound with chains, he would eventually be able to free himself.

  On Saturday, June 11, Decker and Nolan left Jordan shackled to the post in his room as usual, and rode into Elkton. They wanted to hear what was being said about Jordan’s disappearance.

  Arriving in town, they dismounted, moved slowly down the boardwalks and into one store after another. Often they heard townspeople talking about Jordan Shaw being killed and devoured by a grizzly; his bloody, tattered jacket being found; the search party led by Marshal Mike Woodard, trying unsuccessfully to find his remains; and the deep sorrow being experienced by the Shaw family.

  As they rode back toward the foothills, Decker and Nolan laughed with glee, discussing the mental anguish their former boss was suffering. When they entered the cabin, they went into Jordan’s cell and laughed heartily as they told him what they had heard the townspeople saying.

  Jordan’s heart was heavy, knowing he had done this terrible thing to his family. He wished they would not have to wait so long to learn that he was alive.

  At the same time Jordan Shaw was languishing in his cell at the cabin in the foothills, Knight Colburn entered the Elkton Sentinel office to find Claude Hayward smiling at him.

  Hayward, who had recently turned sixty, said, “I’m sure glad it’s Saturday. If I didn’t have you in here once a week, Knight, I’d have to do all the work around this place.”

  “We couldn’t have the boss under that kind of pressure, now, could we?”

 
Hayward laughed. “Not as old as I’m getting.”

  Knight shook his head, grinning. “You’re not old, Mr. Hayward.” He paused for effect, then added, “Compared to Methuselah.”

  Hayward made a mock scowl. “I’d fire you for that remark, but there’s too much work that needs to be done around here.”

  They laughed together, then Knight said, “So, what’s my first task, today?”

  “I need to know about Mark and Lorene. Are they still getting married on the eighteenth or has the tragedy of Jordan’s death caused them to postpone it?”

  “They’re going ahead with the wedding next Saturday, sir,” said Knight. “Mark suggested that they put it off for a few weeks to give time for mourning Jordan’s death, but Lorene and her parents felt that Jordan wouldn’t want them to postpone it. So, as scheduled, the wedding will take place at three o’clock next Saturday afternoon at the church in Ketcham.”

  “Good. I want you to write a three-hundred-word article on the wedding and get it in my hands by six o’clock next Saturday if you can, and I’ll print it on the front page of Sunday’s issue. You can have it pretty well done before the wedding, then just add whatever you want when it’s over. Can you do that?”

  A wide smile spread over Knight’s young face. “Oh yes, sir! I can do it! Thank you for the opportunity!”

  “You’re welcome, my boy,” said Hayward, rubbing his silver mustache.

  “I’m going to be giving you more writing assignments very soon. Enough practice. I want you doing the real thing each time from now on.”

  “I really appreciate that, sir,” said Knight. “Now, what’s my first job today?”

  “The press needs cleaning. You can start there.”

  “All right,” said the sixteen-year-old, “one clean printing press coming up!”

  At the Bar-S on the next Saturday, there were mixed emotions in the big ranch house. Lorene and her parents carried the grief over Jordan’s death, yet there was happiness because of the new life Lorene would begin as Mrs. Mark Hedren that day.

  The Shaws, along with Annie and Knight Colburn, left the ranch for Ketcham just before one o’clock. Knight was astride his horse so he could ride back to Elkton immediately after the wedding reception was in progress, and place the final draft of the wedding article into Claude Hayward’s hands. The others were in the Shaw carriage.

  Lorene sat between Sylvia and Annie in the rear seat, each holding a hand as they tried to keep her mind on the wedding. When they arrived at the church, the women took Lorene to the room where she would put on her wedding dress. Bessie Hedren—Mark’s mother—was there to offer her help. The two bridesmaids, who were close friends of Lorene’s, were already there.

  William went into the auditorium, where he met family members from the Midwest and the East who had been staying at the Ketcham Hotel, along with local friends. When he spotted Marshal and Mrs. Mike Woodard, he thanked the marshal once again for the effort he had put forth to try to find Jordan’s body.

  Knight went to the pastor’s office, where he joined Mark, best man Lucas McSween, the other groomsman Bart Collins, and the pastor.

  As Sylvia worked with Annie and Bessie to help Lorene get ready, she thought about Jordan, and with his death overshadowing the family, she was glad they had decided on a small, quiet wedding with only relatives and close friends.

  Lorene, a pretty girl in her own right, glowed in the love Mark had for her as the finishing touches were put on her hair by her mother. The bride wore a lovely pale pink and white lace dress.

  Sylvia, her heart aching over Jordan, painted a happy smile on her face and engaged her daughter in cheerful chatter. She fastened the last tiny button at the neck of the bodice and placed a filmy concoction of tulle attached to a white straw hat atop Lorene’s shiny curls. She pinned it into place and stepped back to admire her.

  Bessie, Annie, and the bridesmaids looked on as a mist of tears dimmed Sylvia’s eyes. Taking Lorene’s hands, Sylvia said, “You are so beautiful, sweet girl. Let this be the happiest day of your life.”

  Lorene’s mind went to Jordan, but she pressed a smile on her lips and said, “I will, Mother. I will.”

  At the cabin in the foothills, Jordan Shaw was alone. Ace Decker and Keith Nolan had gone hunting in the mountains for the day. He was still chained to the post, leaning his back against the wall. As usual, the window shade was down and the cabin doors were securely locked.

  Jordan’s mind was on the wedding in Ketcham. It was almost noon, and he knew that in three more hours, his beloved sister would walk down the aisle to become Mark Hedren’s wife. He wept as he thought of Lorene and his parents, knowing how hard it was going to be for them to get through the wedding, thinking he was dead.

  He wondered who Mark had chosen to replace him as a groomsman and thought it was probably Bart Collins. Mark and Bart had been close friends for many years. Their friendship was second only to the friendship between Mark and Lucas McSween.

  Noon came. Jordan looked at the food his captors had left him, but he had no appetite. A bit thirsty, he poured water from the pitcher into a cup and sipped it.

  Time dragged by.

  It was just after two o’clock when Jordan was picturing what he thought each person in the small wedding party was doing at that moment. Lorene was about to begin putting on her wedding dress with help from their mother, Bessie Hedren, and Annie Colburn. Mark, Knight, Lucas, and whomever Mark had chosen for his other groomsman were probably in the pastor’s office.

  Suddenly Jordan heard a horse whinny at the front side of the cabin, followed by another horse doing the same. His first thought was that his captors had returned home early, but this changed when he heard wheels grinding on the road, then a mixture of male voices. He could tell that the grinding wheels came to a halt, and he could hear footsteps on the ground.

  He couldn’t make out what the men were saying, but they apparently were having some kind of problem by the voices.

  Jordan looked at the drawn window shade, and wished he could see out. The chain, however, was too short. His captors had made sure he couldn’t reach the window.

  I’ve got to get their attention! he thought, as he scrambled to his feet. What can I—Wait a minute! Yes!

  Bending over, he picked up the nearly full water pitcher and hurled it at the window as hard as he could. It sailed through the air, hit the window shade solidly, and shattered the window with a loud crash. The pitcher also shattered, spilling water on the shade and the floor.

  “Hey!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Help! Help me! Help me!”

  Outside on the road, directly in front of the cabin some twenty yards away, four lumberjacks were carrying a load of logs on a large wagon, which they had cut down in the Sawtooth Mountains. They were headed for Fletcher’s Sawmill near Ketcham, and had stopped because one of the ropes that secured the logs on the wagon had broken. They were attempting to adjust logs that had shifted and secure them with another rope.

  All four stopped what they were doing when they heard the glass shatter and the voice call for help.

  Jordan could hear them coming toward the cabin, talking among themselves about what kind of trouble the person inside the cabin might be having. “I’m here!” he called. “Front bedroom!”

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the porch, then calloused hands reached through the broken window, pulled the shade aside, and four faces appeared. Jordan recognized them. “Hey, guys!” he shouted, relief evident in his voice. “It’s me!”

  All four of them stood aghast, eyes bulging.

  “Jordan!” gasped Judd Cameron. “You’re alive! We heard you were killed and eaten by a grizzly!”

  Nick Ferigo pointed at the chain on Jordan’s ankle. “Look! He’s chained to that post!”

  “We’re coming in!” said George Bernay.

  “Doors are locked.” said Jordan. “You’ll have to break one open.”

  “No problem,” said Brandon Torveen. “I’ll get an
ax.”

  “You’ll need a couple of wrenches or pliers to get the chain off me,” said Jordan.

  “We’ve got some,” said Judd Cameron.

  Less than a minute later, the front door was ripped to shreds with an ax, and within a minute after that, the chain was off Jordan’s ankle.

  “Now tell us about it,” said Nick Ferigo. “Who did this to you?”

  Quickly, Jordan told them about Ace Decker and Keith Nolan being fired by his father and of his kidnapping as a matter of revenge. He explained that they now worked at Fletcher’s Sawmill, but were planning to depart from Idaho and leave him tied up in a cave in the mountains, where he could eventually work his way free.

  Judd Cameron told Jordan they were taking their logs to that very mill. Jordan asked them not to say anything to them about having set him free. He would let the marshal deal with them. He then told them Lorene’s wedding was about to take place, saying he wanted to get there before it was over.

  Brandon Torveen said, “I’ve got my saddle horse tied on behind the wagon, Jordan. You can take him and return him to my house in Ketcham this evening.”

  “Oh, thanks, Brandon,” said Jordan. “You’re a lifesaver!”

  At the church in Ketcham, Mark and Lorene left the platform after being pronounced husband and wife and headed quickly for the fellowship hall. The wedding party, family members, and wedding guests followed.

  Though there was happiness in the hearts of the bride and groom and their families, there was a note of sadness because Jordan was not with them.

  Knight Colburn felt the sadness as he watched Mark and Lorene start cutting the wedding cake. When the cake had been distributed and the wedding guests were passing by the bride and groom to congratulate them, Knight slipped up to them and said that he had to hurry and get to Elkton in time to give Claude Hayward his finished article.

  Mark and Lorene thanked him for being a part of the wedding, then encouraged him to hurry. They definitely wanted the article on the front page of Sunday’s paper.