Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana

by Tricia Goyer

  A dozen smiles warmed the faces of the people gathered as the caretaker hoisted the child back to her lap.

  “Yes, sweetheart,” Isaac answered. “You stay here.”

  A small smile emerged from Miss Cavanaugh’s lips as she met his gaze. Isaac quickly looked away and began to read through the list connecting the girls with the waiting, exuberant families. Within minutes, three families were matched.

  After introductions, Miriam hustled them off to the office to fill out paperwork stating they’d provide stable homes, good education, and Christian training, including church and Sabbath school if possible.

  Reaching the bottom of the list, just one child’s name remained. And one family. Isaac paused at the names, Abe and Elizabeth Falcon, written in his own handwriting.

  He’d grieved with his sister and brother-in-law through the heartache of three miscarriages. Each time, his sister had mourned her loss with grace and faith, comforting those around her more than herself. But the last loss nearly took Elizabeth’s life, and it rendered her barren. “Barren, like a dry field,” she’d said that hot, summer afternoon she’d delivered the tiny infant, gone before it could take breath.

  Elizabeth’s heart had always overflowed with love toward those around her, yet Isaac knew she longed to lavish that love on a child. He’d spent many hours pleading with God to give her a baby and had longed for some way to help her. It seemed the whole community of Lonesome Prairie prayed for a child to join the Falcon family.

  The Children’s Aid Society had provided Isaac a way to help, and if truth be told, he’d requested the orphan train to come as much for Elizabeth and Abe as for Milo and his plans.

  Isaac read the name of the child on the ledger. Beatrice Bruce. Little Bea. A perfect match for his sister. “We have one child remaining,” he said. “You, Abe and Elizabeth, are to take Beatrice Bruce.”

  Even as the words left his lips, Isaac, who’d been pondering the name on the ledger, looked up and noticed the other girl sitting next to Julia. How could he have not realized she was still there? The girl’s young face, full of confusion and fear, gaped at him. Compassion for her stung him, and he checked the list again. Only one name and one family.

  What could’ve happened?

  Then he saw Miss Cavanaugh, eyes like a mother lion. “You mean two children, right?”

  Chapter Seven

  Julia struggled to remain calm as she pulled both girls next to her. “There must be some mistake.”

  Isaac stared at her with an unreadable expression. “Well, the paperwork says just one, but I’m sure we can find a—”

  “There’s two. See.” Worries of children being ripped from their siblings by adoptive parents had plagued Julia’s thoughts, yet she’d been assured this wouldn’t happen. And it can’t happen, not to Bea and Shelby.

  “All I have here is Beatrice Bruce, but—”

  “That me! You my new mama and papa?” Bea stretched her arms toward the only remaining couple, Elizabeth and Abe, but Julia snatched her back to her lap.

  Shelby gripped Julia’s arm.

  “The sisters must be together.” Julia’s chin twitched upward, and her eyes zeroed in on the parson.

  “I’m sorry,” Isaac continued, eyeing her right back, starting to appear annoyed. “The paperwork shows no record of another child. I’m not sure how this is handled. The older child may have to go back….”

  His voice sounded stiff, unswerving. Julia’s foot tapped in nervous frustration. Shelby couldn’t be separated from Bea. Julia wouldn’t let it happen. Losing Bea would make Shelby as lonely as Julia. That was a reality Julia could never accept—she’d do anything to protect those girls.

  Suddenly her plan to keep the two didn’t seem so farfetched. What if she took Shelby’s and Bea’s hands and walked out of that room, back to the train? She could take them to New York with her. It’d be hard to find a place to stay and work, but at least they’d be together. Julia examined Shelby’s face. Fear and rejection marked her eyes. Would she be abandoned again? Were there parents for everyone but her? Julia couldn’t let this happen to Shelby. She wouldn’t.

  “Isaac,” Julia heard Elizabeth say.

  Seemingly oblivious to his sister, Isaac shook his head. “I know siblings are sometimes separated—”

  Julia stood, stomping her boot. “These girls cannot be separated.” She didn’t care who was in the room or what they thought of her. What mattered was that Shelby understood she was wanted, loved.

  She shifted her gaze to Shelby. “I’ve been your mother for two years.” She gently touched the girl’s face. “What if we became a real family? It’s what we both want, isn’t it?”

  Shelby’s face shone.

  “Miss Cavanaugh,” Isaac said. “I don’t know what you have in mind, but…”

  Julia set a pleasant expression on her face. She tilted her head as she glanced at him, no longer needing to be angry. “There is no problem now, sir. I will simply take them with me back to New York. Both of them.”

  He glanced at his sister Elizabeth, and Julia followed his gaze. Her brow creased, and she lowered her head.

  “No,” he said firmly. “You can’t.”

  “Isaac,” Elizabeth said again, louder.

  “I was told the girls didn’t have to go to anyone they didn’t want to.” Julia stepped toward him, anger swishing back. He smelled of sweet prairie grass, and the pleasantness of it made Julia even more frustrated.

  “From what I can tell, Bea wants to go with my sister.” The man’s face reddened, and his eyes looked frantic. “Just a moment ago she was reaching for Abe and Elizabeth—her new parents.”

  Julia clutched Bea to her, and the two-year-old snuggled against her chest. “No, she wants to stay with me. Can’t you see that? And if Shelby can’t go with them—”

  “We’ll figure something out about Shelby, but I’m sorry, Bea needs to go with Abe and Elizabeth.”

  Julia felt her gaze narrow. “You are one rude parson.” She wondered how she’d ever been attracted to him.

  Isaac’s head jerked back as if he’d been hit. He exhaled. “Look, Miss Cavanaugh. I just can’t let you steal my sister’s only hope of having a child. She’s been waiting forever to be a mother.” Julia saw compassion in his eyes but chose to ignore it. Her love for the girls mattered more.

  “Isaac!” Elizabeth’s shout echoed off the walls, the ceiling. “Listen to me.”

  Julia winced and looked to the woman. Elizabeth’s cheeks were flushed.

  Two steps and Isaac was at her side. “What is it?”

  “We’ll take both girls, Isaac,” Elizabeth said, her shoulders slumping in what looked like relief to finally be heard. “We can’t separate them. We’d be happy to take both.” She held her husband’s hand.

  “Be happy to.” Abe tugged his wife to him and rubbed her arm. “Not right to separate them girls. ’Sides, Shelby can help Elizabeth. Keep ’er company.” He smiled at Shelby.

  Isaac’s face relaxed. “Thank you. That’s the perfect solution. I’m sorry; I should have asked you that first.”

  Julia sank back onto the bench. She didn’t know what to do. What was best for the girls? One minute ago she’d decided to take Shelby and Bea—as her own—with her to New York, to be their mother as she’d longed for all these weeks. Her hopes had rushed her forward in time to their happy home together—laughing at the breakfast table, teaching and guiding them throughout the day, seeing their faces every night before bed. How could she just shut off those hopes again despite the woman’s offer to take both? She kissed Shelby’s head and squeezed Bea tightly, breathing in the scent of their skin.

  “Do you want to go back with me? You can still go if you want to, but…”

  Moments of silent embraces passed. Then Shelby pulled back, wiping her tears on her pinafore. “Miss Cavanaugh,” she said softly.

  Julia thumbed a straggling tear from her chin. “Yes?”

  “You were right. We have to trust—” S
helby forced a smile.

  “We have to trust that God picked my parents.”

  Julia bowed her head and clasped Shelby’s hands in hers, gently rubbing the lines in her fingers. She knew she couldn’t be their mother. The idea faded as quickly as it arrived.

  Shelby sniffed and weaved her fingers through Julia’s. “These folks seem like really nice people. They’ll make good parents for Bea. Maybe it’d be better for her to grow up here than in New York like I did. She could run around. It might be good for me, too”.

  Bea’s wide blue eyes peered up at Julia and then shifted to her new parents, confused.

  “Of course you’re right.” Julia caressed Shelby’s soft hair. “You’re so brave.”

  “Bea brave, too.” Bea smiled.

  Julia kissed her cheek and then stood, lifting Bea in her arms. Lord, take care of Your children. She walked to Elizabeth and handed Bea to the kind young woman.

  Elizabeth’s eyes brightened and tears rimmed her lids. She touched Julia’s arm. “Thank you.”

  “They’re both yours.” Julia placed a hand on Shelby’s back, urging her forward.

  Shelby stood tall before her new mother, yet her eyes fell, nervous. “We’d be happy to come with you. I promise I’ll help take care of Bea.”

  Elizabeth lifted Shelby’s chin. “We’d be honored to be your parents. You’re an unexpected gift, Shelby. Because of you, this day is even more wonderful than we first imagined.”

  Julia glanced at a clock above the doorway. She had fifteen minutes to say good-bye and race to the depot. With determined yet shaky strength, Julia strode to the girls huddled next to Elizabeth and Abe. Kneeling down, she swooped Bea into her arms. “Be good for your new mama and papa.” Tears forced their way out, yet Julia fought to smile as she released her little charge. “Good-bye, Bea.”

  Turning to Shelby, she took the girl’s face in her hands. She wanted to give her something, to somehow show her love. Then she remembered the pillowslip. She pulled it out of her bag and brushed off the dust from the train floor. A butterfly fluttering over a colorful rainbow decorated the slip. That’s what Shelby had been to her—an arch of color after the rain. Julia handed it to her.

  “Thank you, Miss Cavanaugh.” Shelby flung herself against her in a tight hug.

  “You’re welcome, my sweet girl.” Julia pulled herself away. “Never forget—” She pressed steepled hands to her mouth, like a child at prayer, then lowered them. “Never forget how much you mean to me.”

  As if on cue, the train whistle sounded its fifteen-minute warning, and Julia ambled out the door and down the street, her heart breaking with each step.

  She didn’t look back.

  Guilt stabbed Isaac’s gut as he grabbed the saddle horn and swung onto his mare, Virginia. How could he have been so harsh to that woman who’d showed such strength and grace? In his mind’s eye, he saw the two girls wrapping their arms around her slim form after she’d offered to adopt them. Then, when she chose to place them in Abe and Elizabeth’s care, she’d put on a brave smile. Even though pain obviously boiled under the surface, her smile radiated comfort to those girls. How blessed they were to have her all those years.

  How could I have been so callous? What had she called him? One rude parson. She was right. Part of him longed to apologize, to view that lovely face once more…but no. Isaac forced the idea aside. He’d only confuse matters. Best to just let her go in peace.

  Besides, his poor parishioners over in Lodge Pole had been expecting him for two weeks now. After Milo’s death, his circuit had been cut short. But now, with the funeral behind him and the orphans safe in their homes, he could get back to his normal pace. Preaching seven days a week, sleeping under the stars or in the loving homes of his congregants, visiting the sick—the familiarity of this routine would bring rest, peace.

  Thoughts of the school returned. In a couple of months, a load of supplies would be coming by train. He and Milo had ordered the precise supplies they’d need for a small yet suitable schoolhouse.

  Of course, the most important element hadn’t been located yet. A schoolmarm.

  Calamity’s tongue hung from her mouth as the old dog trotted alongside, keeping her good eye fixed on him. Isaac reached the edge of town. He rode by Milo’s house, the only building with an upstairs, and paused. Wooden crates lay stacked on the front porch, and a wagon—was it Warren’s?—waited in the grassy side yard. Perhaps Aponi was cleaning out Milo’s things. The widow, with her six girls, had exuded enormous strength over the last weeks. But to Isaac, her trusted pastor, she’d confided that inside she felt alone, abandoned on this prairie without the man she loved.

  As Isaac considered stopping in to pray with her before heading out, he heard footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see his sister Elizabeth racing toward him. Her family’s wagon waited on the street. Isaac grinned at the two girls—his sister’s future—nestled in the back.

  “Aren’t you anxious to get your new family home?” he asked from his mount on the horse.

  “Of course.” Elizabeth beamed. “But I wanted to check on you before you left, since Miriam shooed you out like a bad-tempered ewe.”

  Isaac chuckled. “I know. You’d think after five years on the prairie, she’d let me grow up.”

  “She’ll always want to mother us.” Elizabeth smiled. “Listen, my dear brother, are you sure you don’t want to stay out at the ranch tonight? Sometimes parsons need caring for, too.”

  His horse whinnied and tossed her head, eager to get going. Perhaps she’d grown anxious about staying in one place too long, as he had. Isaac reached down and touched his sister’s shoulder. An evening filled with the love of family—a good meal, as much talking as he needed but not more, and a steady night’s sleep in a soft bed. The images tempted him. Still, he couldn’t shake his obligation to the folks over east. Or his need to sleep under a sky full of stars.

  “Thank you kindly, but tonight me and the prairie have an appointment.”

  “You and God, you mean.”

  Isaac nodded, grateful his sister understood. “You go. Enjoy your first night with my nieces.”

  “Yes, I will.” Elizabeth paused, glancing at the road. “I just can’t stop thinking about that young woman. I feel so bad for her.” She lingered, like she had something she wanted to say.

  Shame covering him, he tilted his head. “I was really horrible, wasn’t I?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “Just go apologize.”

  “You think I should? I mean, you don’t think I’ll make it worse?”

  “No, dear, you can be downright sweet when you put your mind to it.” She patted his knee. “But, truly, a kind word from a parson might, I don’t know, comfort her.” She threw him a cheeky grin. “Even a rude one. Especially if he’s repentant.”

  Isaac chuckled. “You’re right. I will.”

  “You better hurry. She’s walkin’ back to the depot.” Elizabeth squeezed his hand then spun around and hurried to her wagon.

  Isaac watched as it rumbled down the street. Shelby and Bea’s heads tipped back as if looking ahead to their new lives awaiting them. Dear Lord, gather them in Your arms. Guide their footsteps. Teach them Your ways.

  “Go on!” Elizabeth hollered back at him.

  Isaac leaned forward, but just before he thrust his horse into a gallop, he saw Horace sashay out of the Log Cabin Saloon all gussied up in a black coat and bolo tie. He even wore a new hat. In his left hand, he grasped papers. Horace in a suit? Something wasn’t right.

  “Hey, Horace,” Isaac called. “What’re you doing?”

  “I done gone bought me a wife. And I’m headin’ to cash in.” He stamped toward his wagon. Not the nicer wagon he’d borrowed from Miriam to pick up the ladies from the train, but his smaller unit that looked ready to fall apart, pulled by one tired mule. “Ho there, looks like she already hightailed it back to the train. Sorry, Parson Ike, I gotta go fetch that Miss Julia Cavanaw-guh.”<
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  Isaac urged his horse next to Horace’s wagon. “What? You paid for Miss Cavanaugh to marry you?”

  “Yup.” Horace held up the papers. “Got the receipts right here. But that Mrs. Hamlin, or Gaffin, or whatever it was, she said she wanted ta surprise the little lady.” He snapped his fingers in an arc in front of him. “Now’s the time.”

  Isaac, baffled at the prospector’s logic, raced his horse next to him. “But you can’t buy a wife.”

  Horace shook his head, surprised. “Why, o’ course you can. Haven’t you never heard of them mail-order brides? I could never get my nerve up with the ladies ’round these parts, so I done ordered one.” Horace reached the wagon and jumped onto the buckboard, grabbing the reins. “And if you wanna know a secret, I’m not gonna tell her until she gets on my wagon thinkin’ she’s headin’ back to the train.” His belly jiggled as he hooted. “Can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

  The prospector whipped his mule, and the wagon jolted ahead.

  Chapter Eight

  The wind blew in hot and dusty, drying Julia’s tears. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt raw, parched. She focused her eyes on the railroad depot, just a lonely rail car, and the train parked at the water tower. She knew it wouldn’t be there long.

  Soon she’d be climbing its metal steps and sliding into her spot next to the window. She’d make the connections until she boarded an eastbound engine in Helena. Then she’d finish The Prairie Knight without interruption. She’d be given a quiet she hadn’t known—ever. Yet rather than cherish the prospect, she felt grief like a dark storm grip her heart despite the bright Montana sunshine.

  Her feet plodded forward, and she shielded her eyes as she stared into the vast sky, alive with endless white, rolling clouds. “Are You taking care of me like my mama said?” The wind carried away her whispered words along with the dust.

  Up ahead the train rumbled and chugged a half mile from the water tower to the depot. As she quickened her steps, the sound of hoofbeats rumbled behind her. In a blink, a horse sprinted across her path and stopped. The parson tugged off his hat.