by Al Lacy
“… don’t you think?” came Knight’s words filtering into his ears.
Jordan looked at his friend blankly. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I said to me this is the most beautiful time of the year, with the brilliant colors of the leaves, especially the leaves on the aspen trees, don’t you think?”
Jordan looked around at the colorful scene that surrounded them. The aspen leaves were turning golden and fluttering beautifully in the breeze, looking like flashing diamonds in the brilliant sunlight. “Yes. I agree, Knight. This really is the most beautiful time of the year.”
A short while later, as they wound through the pines, birches, and aspens, Knight said something else to his friend. Again, Jordan was buried in thought, and Knight had to repeat what he had said.
Frowning as they guided the horses across a narrow stream, Knight said, “Ol’ pal, is something troubling you?”
Jordan looked at him, blinking. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you seem to be quite preoccupied. Anything I can do to help?”
Jordan chuckled hollowly. “I’m sorry. Really, it’s not important. Just have a lot on my mind right now.” Brightening his face with a smile, he said, “When we’re moving through the woods up there in the high country, stalking a deer or an elk, my mind will be on them, and I’ll be concentrating only on hunting.”
Two hours later, they reached the old abandoned cabin. As they dismounted, Jordan said, “Knight, I never come here without thinking about that grizzly that tore up my jacket eight years ago, and about Ace Decker and Keith Nolan taking me to their cabin and holding me their prisoner.”
Knight patted his horse’s neck and said, “I doubt you’ll ever forget it, pal. And neither will Decker and Nolan. They’ve got twelve more years to sit in that prison and think about it.”
Jordan loosed his knapsack and bedroll from behind the saddle, then looked around. “I wonder if that big ol’ black bear has been around here lately.”
“I would suppose he has. He seems to like this area.”
“Yeah. And one of these days I’ll get close enough to him to bring him down.” A dreamy look captured Jordan’s eyes. “In my mind, I call him Ol’ Blackie. I can’t wait to have him stuffed. He is going to look mighty good standing in the corner of my bedroom. And when I have my own ranch, I’ll put him in my parlor so everyone who visits can get a good look at him. Ol’ Blackie will make an excellent conversation piece.”
Knight grinned. “I’m sure of that.”
The two friends put their gear inside the old cabin, tied the horses to trees near the porch, and moved up the side of a mountain. Eyes peeled for any sign of big game, their rifles ready, they worked their way up through the forest to the sound of the wind in the trees and the singing of birds all about them.
Once again they were discussing the autumn beauty of the mountains when suddenly Jordan stopped, peering straight ahead through the dense timber, his hands tightening on his rifle.
At his side, Knight looked in the same direction. “See something?”
“Yeah. Movement of some kind. There’s something sizable up there about fifty yards. Maybe it’s Ol’ Blackie.”
There was a loud cracking sound from the area they were looking at then sudden movement. Both men saw a huge black shape, then it disappeared from view.
“It’s him!” gasped Jordan, keeping his voice low. “Let’s go!”
As they started running up the slope through the trees, Knight said in a subdued tone, “Jordan, be careful. Black bears are known to hide when they are being stalked by men, then suddenly jump out and attack.”
Jordan was about to comment when the big black bear came into full view some thirty yards away, then moved into the shadows of the pines.
“It’s him!” cried Jordan, and broke into a run toward the spot where the bear had been seen.
Knight was a few steps behind him.
Suddenly the huge beast appeared again. This time he was looking straight at Jordan, who was closing in on him. The bear roared threateningly and stood straight up, pawing the air.
Jordan stopped, shouldered his rifle, and fired before Knight got stopped. He had to sidestep quickly to keep from running into Jordan.
The bullet struck the bear’s right paw, tearing away flesh.
The black beast ejected a loud roar, wheeled, and limped away at a fast run.
“I hit him, Knight!” Jordan cried with elation. “Come on! Let’s close in for the kill!”
Jordan broke into a run, and Knight was beside him. As they dashed through the trees, Knight said, “Once a black bear is wounded, he is ten times as dangerous. We’ve got to be careful.”
Panting as they hurried up the steep slope, Jordan said, “I’m not afraid. I’ve just got to kill Ol’ Blackie so I can have him stuffed!”
When they reached the spot where the bear had been standing when the bullet struck his paw, they stopped and looked at the ground.
“Look!” said Jordan, dropping to one knee. The furry piece of paw that had been shot off lay on the grass, which was stained by its blood. Jordan picked it up.
Knight saw that two claws had been severed from the bear’s paw, and said, “He’ll really be dangerous now. He got a good look at you, Jordan, and bears have a good memory. You’ll have to be doubly careful in these woods.”
Rising to his feet, still holding the severed piece of paw, Jordan chuckled. “I’m the one with the rifle. Not Ol’ Blackie. I’ll get him, yet, Knight. Come on. Let’s follow him.”
Knight and Jordan spent the rest of the day searching for the bear, but to no avail. There was a blood trail for a while, but it finally faded out.
At sunset, Jordan grumbled all the way back to the cabin because he hadn’t shot straight enough to kill the bear with the one and only shot he had been able to fire at him.
WHEN KNIGHT COLBURN AND JORDAN SHAW were eating supper in the cabin, Knight noticed that his friend was preoccupied again. Several minutes went by without Jordan saying a word.
Looking across the table at him by the light of the lantern that hung from a nail, Knight said, “Okay, what is it? The same thing that was bothering you this morning?”
It took a full five seconds for Knight’s words to register. Jordan’s head came up. “Uh … well, yeah. But actually what is bothering me the most is that I didn’t shoot straighter when I fired at Ol’ Blackie. I was too excited, I guess. A bullet in the brain or the heart would have brought him down in a hurry.”
“I can understand that bothering you, my friend, but I know you well enough to deduct that it is the other thing that is bothering you the most. You have the same look on your face that you had this morning. I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”
There was still food on Jordan’s plate, but he shoved it away. “The other thing will work itself out. What I’m most concerned about right now is the bear. Really. I should have hit him in a vital spot, not just shot off two claws.”
Knight’s plate was empty. He downed the last of his coffee and set the tin cup on the table. “You’ll get another chance. I doubt that Ol’ Blackie dies from that wound. But again, a word of caution. He may well remember you if he sees you again. Be careful. You’re usually up here alone.”
Jordan nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be careful.”
Later, when Jordan was slipping into his bedroll on one of the cots, Knight was at the table, reading his Bible.
Jordan was about to bid his friend good night, when he noticed tears on his cheeks. “Hey, pal, you all right?”
Knight looked at him, wiped his cheeks, and smiled. “I was just reading about the crucifixion in the twenty-seventh chapter of Matthew. It’s so heart-gripping. May I read it to you?”
Reluctantly, Jordan said, “Well, all right.”
“Listen to this. It covers several verses, beginning in verse 35: ‘And they crucified him, and parted his garments, casting lots: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken b
y the prophet, They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots. And sitting down they watched him there; and set up over his head his accusation written, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS. Then were there two thieves crucified with him, one on the right hand, and another on the left. And they that passed by reviled him, wagging their heads, and saying, Thou that destroyest the temple, and buildest it in three days, save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross.
“ ‘Likewise also the chief priests mocking him, with the scribes and elders, said, He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he be the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross, and we will believe him. He trusted in God; let him deliver him now, if he will have him: for he said, I am the Son of God. The thieves also, which were crucified with him, cast the same in his teeth.
“ ‘Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land unto the ninth hour. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
“ ‘Some of them that stood there, when they heard that, said, This man calleth for Elias. And straightway one of them ran, and took a spunge, and filled it with vinegar, and put it on a reed, and gave him to drink. The rest said. Let us see whether Elias will come to save him
“ ‘Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost.’ ”
Jordan’s eyes were fastened on his friend.
Knight wiped his cheeks clear of tears again. “Let me point out what that crowd said about Jesus in verse 42, Jordan. ‘He saved others; himself he cannot save.’ ”
Jordan did not take his eyes off Knight, but remained silent.
Knight sniffed. “That crowd was so wrong. Jesus could have saved Himself if He so desired. He could have come down from the cross—as some of them challenged Him to do. But if He had, there would be no salvation for sinners. He stayed there, bore the sins of the world, and died to provide cleansing from sin and forgiveness for guilty, hell-deserving sinners. You understand that, Jordan?”
Jordan nodded without making a sound.
Flipping further back in his Bible, Knight said, “With what we’ve just seen, I want to point out a portion of another verse.”
Stopping at Galatians chapter 2, he read verse 20: “ ‘I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.’ ”
Jordan’s gaze was still fixed on his friend.
“It’s this part that I want to emphasize,” said Knight. “The apostle Paul says here, the Son of God loved me and gave himself for me. Jordan, just as Jesus stayed on the cross and gave Himself for Paul personally, He also did it for Knight Colburn personally. And you know what? He also gave Himself for Jordan Shaw personally, so Jordan Shaw could be saved from his sins and the penalty of sin; eternity in hell. What love! What amazing love!”
Jordan’s body was obviously stiffened, and his face was like granite. “I’m really very tired, Knight,” he said. “I need to get to sleep.” Even as he was speaking, he rolled over, covered his head, and lay still.
His heart heavy, Knight said, “Friend, you dare not keep putting this off. Eternity is coming. Don’t die without Jesus.”
There was no response.
Knight closed his Bible, prayed silently for several minutes, then put out the lantern and crawled into his own bedroll.
The next day, Knight and Jordan were moving through the high country just before noon when suddenly Knight saw a big bull elk off to his right between the towering pines. The elk was looking another direction and had not noticed them. Whispering from the side of his mouth as he laid a hand on Jordan’s arm, he said, “Bull elk! Off to the right. Stand still.”
Knight shouldered his rifle, and as he was taking aim, the elk spotted them and started to bolt. The rifle bucked against Knight’s shoulder as it roared, and the elk went down.
Later, while they were carefully eviscerating the elk with its body hanging by a rope from a tree limb, Knight found his friend quiet once again. He decided to engage him in conversation. Pausing with the big sharp knife in his hand, he said, “Tell me something, ol’ pal.”
Jordan met his gaze. “What’s that?”
“Well, I’ve been hearing some talk around town about you and Belinda Ashworth. Is it true that love is budding between the two of you and you haven’t even told your best friend about it? You haven’t said a word.”
Jordan sighed. “So you were told that Belinda and I are in love.”
“Mm-hmm. Three times.”
Jordan’s features hardened. He shook his head, meeting Knight’s gaze. “It’s not true. Belinda and I are not in love. But she’s telling people we are.”
Knight frowned. “Uh-oh.”
“I might as well tell you. This is the thing that has been troubling me so much.”
“Oh, so that’s it.”
“Yeah. Belinda’s parents and my parents are putting pressure on me to marry her, and Belinda has been adding her own pressure—not only by pushing herself on me, but by telling her friends that we have fallen in love.”
Knight nodded, and went back to work with the knife. “Don’t you feel something for Belinda?”
“Only friendship. I have absolutely no romantic feelings toward her whatsoever. I am not interested in her as a possible wife. After Nellie Freeman dumped me for that other guy five years ago, I haven’t found anyone who interests me. And Belinda is about to destroy even the friendship I feel toward her. Knight, I can’t go anywhere in town or even among the ranchers without being bombarded with questions about when the wedding is going to take place. I’m trying very hard not to cause any trouble for Belinda or to embarrass her in any way. But if she keeps it up, I’ll have to do something to put a stop to it.”
Knight paused in his work again. “I can understand why you want it stopped.”
“It’s got to stop. The pressure from both sets of parents and the lies Belinda is telling are about to drive me crazy. I’ve got to do something about it, but I don’t know how to do it without hurting their feelings—especially those of my own parents. I’ve come close to losing my temper with Belinda, and so far I’ve been able to keep from it. But you know my temper. Do you have any suggestions? This thing can’t go on.”
“Have you told your parents that you’re not interested in marrying Belinda?”
“Yes. But they both want her for a daughter-in-law so bad, they say in time as I get to know her better, I will fall in love with her. So the problem is still there.”
Knight shook his head. “You do have a problem, but I don’t know what to suggest. It wouldn’t be so complicated if your own parents weren’t so adamant in their desire for you to marry Belinda. And I certainly admire you for wanting to spare them from being hurt. Wish I could help, but I’m drawing a blank on this one.”
Jordan nodded. “I guess I’ll have to figure it out for myself. It’s my dilemma.”
They finished cutting up the elk into relatively small pieces, put the meat in gunnysacks, draped them over the horses’ backs behind the saddles, and headed for home.
While they were working their way down the steep slopes toward level land, Jordan said, “Ol’ pal, we’ve talked about the lack of romance in my life. What about the lack of romance in your life?”
Knight was quiet for a brief moment, then said, “Well, it’s like this. Even though there are a few eligible young women in both Elkton and Ketcham, I simply haven’t found the right one.”
Jordan chuckled. “Pardon me, but I happen to know that Christine Pfeiffer in Elkton and Kathleen O’Hara in Ketcham both admire you a whole lot. They’re both lovely young ladies. Why don’t you pursue one of them?”
“They are both nice girls, Jordan, but they’re not Christians. I would never marry a girl who doesn’t know the Lord. If I did, it wouldn’
t work. God calls that an unequal yoke, and commands His born-again children not to be unequally yoked to unbelievers.”
“Oh. I wasn’t aware of that. Makes sense, though.”
Knight smiled. “Everything God says in His Word makes sense.”
The following morning, Jordan Shaw walked into the Ketcham Bank and approached the closest teller’s window.
“Good morning, Jordan,” said the small, baldheaded man. “How are things at the Bar-S?”
“Couldn’t be better, Edgar,” Jordan replied with a warm smile. “In fact, it’s so good, I’m here to make a deposit into the Bar-S business account.” As Jordan spoke, he handed Edgar the checks and currency, along with a deposit slip.
Edgar looked at the deposit slip, then at Jordan. “It’s not dated. Would you mind putting the date on the slip, please?”
“Of course not,” said Jordan, taking a pen from an inkwell provided for the customers. He paused, looking toward the ceiling. “Uh …”
Edgar chuckled. “It’s Wednesday, October 16, 1872.”
Jordan laughed as he wrote it down. “Oh yeah! I’ve been so busy, the time gets away from me. The sixteenth, already. What do you know?”
Less than two minutes later, Jordan stepped out of the bank onto the boardwalk, tucking the receipt in his shirt pocket. He was heading for his horse when he heard a familiar female voice call his name.
His stomach tightened.
He halted, a frown etching itself across his brow. Before he turned to look at Belinda, he muttered to himself, “Oh no. What now?”
Then with effort, he replaced the frown with a fake smile and turned toward her. With Belinda were her parents, and a man and woman about their age. They were coming toward him with Belinda in the lead. All five were smiling broadly.