Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana

by Tricia Goyer

  With Warren towering over him, Isaac felt a piece of a rope being pulled around his mouth like a horse’s bit. Then rough hands girded it tight around his face, cinching it in the back of his head. The handkerchief tasted like dirt and sweat, and the rope dug into his cheek.

  Lefty, Isaac’s old housemate from Old Scraggy Hill, approached, grabbing Isaac’s hands. He eyed Isaac, a glimpse of an apology on his face, and then Isaac felt his arms being jerked behind him. His shoulder sockets burned, and he struggled for air. Lefty’s knee dug into Isaac’s back as he pulled the rope tighter. Isaac sucked in deep breaths through his nose, wincing as he tried to ignore the pain that was everywhere at once.

  A low moan escaped his lips as they bound his feet, pulling the rope tight. Then, just when Isaac thought they were through with him, Joe approached and pummelled the side of his head. Isaac’s ear smacked his shoulder and a hundred chimes sounded in his head.

  He hunkered down in pain just as the point of Joe’s steel-toed boot slammed into his gut. Isaac attempted to lift his head, but the ground around him swayed. Then the ground faded to gray before finally filling with color once again.

  Isaac lifted his eyes and glared at Warren.

  “Throw the parson in the wagon,” Warren commanded.

  Isaac felt Lefty’s and Joe’s arms wrap under his armpits. They hoisted him up into an old wagon that waited between the depot and the saloon. Joe covered him with a canvas tarp.

  No! They can’t do this.

  Isaac pulled against the ropes. Mabelina…who’s gonna stand up for her?

  “Sorry, Parson.” It was Warren’s voice through the fabric. “I just didn’t want to run the risk of a fool judge takin’ your word for that tramp. Believe me, the bounty’s worth more to me than that worthless piece of used-up garbage.”

  Isaac squirmed and kicked his legs, trying to work his way out of the ropes. Fingering them, he tested the knots. It was no use. These men were used to tying up steers. There was no way he was going to loosen the ropes.

  His mind raced. More than anything, Isaac yearned to set aside his Christian demeanor and give Warren what he deserved. Perhaps it was a good thing his mouth and hands were gagged.

  He slumped down, unable to move. His shoulders trembled as he urged himself to puzzle out what to do.

  Over the sound of the men leaving, Isaac heard the train’s brakes screech and the voices of what he guessed were passengers spilling out.

  Since the wagon was parked next to the saloon—and the saloon was situated beside the depot where the trial would take place—Isaac shimmied his way to the side, pushed the canvas off by wiggling his head, and looked through the open window. Lord, I have to get in there.

  He struggled harder against the ropes as another thought shot to mind. The train. If he wanted to reach Julia in time, he had to be freed before the train left.

  Isaac scooted to the other side of the wagon bed and watched a man in a black suit, Judge Booker, walk through the depot’s doors into the sunlight gleaming through the front-paned windows. Beside him marched a uniformed man who loomed over the short judge.

  Giant Jim and Mabelina meandered through the door, their eyes searching the faces in the room. Isaac’s gut tightened. He was sure they were looking for him. He kept working the knot, hoping to somehow nudge it loose. I’d be there if I could. Lord, they need Your help.

  After erecting the judge’s ebony fold-up bench and setting his chair behind it, the bailiff motioned for the onlookers to sit down.

  “You the accused?” The bailiff’s strong voice drifted through the open window to Isaac’s ears, and he saw him point at Mabelina.

  She nodded, her face full of shame. As Isaac watched, the bailiff gripped her arm and walked her to a chair beside the judge’s bench.

  The stallion’s hooves kicked up dust as Julia rode on the wagon seat next to Elizabeth and Shelby on her last trip from Lonesome Prairie to Big Sandy. She tried to swallow down the emotion she felt after saying good-bye to the rest of the family, including little Bea, for the last time.

  She brushed the dust from the new dress the ladies had made together. The sun beat down on her, warming her face. She thought about opening her parasol to block the sun’s rays, but doing so seemed silly now. She actually enjoyed the heat on her cheeks, the wind caressing her skin, and the view of the expansive Montana sky.

  Miriam sat in the back, trying to get comfortable in her almostto-term state, and ten-year-old Christopher moseyed alongside, stating he was strong and could keep up. Every so often he’d jog off to check on a trap, sometimes returning with a jackrabbit or gopher. Julia chuckled. When she first came here, the sight of those dead critters would’ve made shivers crawl over her skin. Now, in her mind’s eye, she flipped through Miriam’s recipe book, trying to consider the best way to cook them.

  “Can you not hit every pothole, Elizabeth?” Miriam moaned from the back as the wagon jerked over a wide divot.

  “I’m not trying to, dear.” Elizabeth yanked the horse to the left to avoid a bump in the rut. “Sorry!”

  Julia felt her body tipping to the side, following the motion of the wagon, and then leveled herself. “You all right?” She twisted and eyed Miriam, whose face looked flushed from the Fourth of July heat. “Do you want to use my parasol to shield the sun?”

  Miriam hugged her middle. “I’m fine. I need both hands just to steady myself.” She sucked in a breath. “In these last weeks, a body does feel every movement of the wagon.”

  “Oh, dear.” Julia ached for her. “You didn’t have to come with us. We could’ve said good-bye at the house, you know.”

  Miriam smiled up at Julia. “I wanted to see you off the right way.”

  “I got a prairie dog this time!” Christopher ran and jumped onto the back of the wagon. He clambered to the front and leaned between Julia and Shelby. He shoved it in Shelby’s face and then in Julia’s. The dead creature smelled like Calamity when she was wet and sweaty, only worse.

  “Oh!” Julia pushed his hand away. “Get that loathsome varmint out of my face.”

  Shelby screeched and thrust him back, landing him on his rear next to his ma in the back.

  Christopher laughed at the girl’s squeals. “What?” He mocked an innocent grin. “Ain’t foul to me. Just a little head and body. Nothin’ gets me squeamish.”

  “Boy!” Miriam scolded. “Get out of this wagon with that thing.”

  Christopher hopped out and hung the creature on a nail sticking out from the side of the wagon, next to two gophers.

  “You’re so disgusting!” Shelby accused as she craned her head around and glared at Christopher.

  Elizabeth palmed Shelby’s arm. “That’ll only make him want to do it more. Believe me, the best strategy is to ignore him.”

  Shelby smiled at her mother. “Thanks. I’ll have to remember that.” Then Shelby put her arm around Julia’s waist and leaned her head against her shoulder. “I can’t believe this is really the last day.”

  Julia tilted her head toward the girl. “We’ll write, you know. It’s not like I’ll forget about you and Bea. And you’ve got a wonderful home here. I need to make a life for myself, too, and Mrs. Gaffin’s expecting me.”

  Shelby examined her hands, picking at her fingernails. “I know, and I promise not to throw a conniption fit like I did last time you tried to leave me.” She tipped her head up and grinned. “But don’t you think you could make a life here instead of so far away?”

  Julia’s eyes moved from Shelby’s face to the snowcapped mountains far in the distance and then encircled the prairie. It was a desolate place out here, but it could be home, she knew that now. Part of her wanted to stay, but if home could be anywhere—and Julia believed it could with Christ—then she may as well go back to Manhattan and teach at a school. Maybe she’d even join the Children’s Aid Society as her father had. She smoothed Shelby’s hair. “I just think it’s best, for—everyone.”

  “You mean for Uncle Ike.” Shelb
y straightened and sat forward. “If it weren’t for him, you’d stay.”

  “Shelby.” Elizabeth’s voice held a hint of scolding.

  Julia patted the girl’s arm. The mention of Isaac’s name didn’t bring the burning ache anymore. In fact, it brought a sense of gratitude for the privilege of knowing and befriending the man, even if just for a short time.

  “Boy, it’s hot out today,” Christopher piped up as he bounded up on the board next to Shelby. “Scoot over, cousin Shel-brain, I’m gonna ride a spell.”

  “Christopher Lafuze!” Miriam scolded from the back. “That is not how you talk to a girl, cousin or no.” She snapped her fingers. “Now get down. If you want to ride, you come back here with me and ask properly.”

  Christopher grinned at Shelby then hopped back to the road and continued walking.

  “Are all boys so annoying?” Shelby shook a fly from her arm. “They’re like buzzing insects.”

  “Yes!” All three women spoke in unison.

  “But you still like Uncle Ike.”

  Julia gave a slight nod. “I do.” She peeked at Elizabeth, who sent over a sympathetic smile. “But that’s not why I’m leaving. I had hoped we could have a future together, but Shelby—” Julia closed her eyes and opened them. “My future is not with him or anyone else. It’s with God, so it doesn’t matter where I live.”

  “Yes, it does.” Shelby shot a glance right back at Julia’s eyes. “Don’t you think I’ve learned a few things since we’ve been out here?” She tilted her chin up.

  “Well, miss, tell me what you’ve learned.” Julia twisted her head, bestowing a sidelong look.

  Shelby played with her pale green cotton skirt. “Johannah and I were watching a butterfly the other day at the coulee. It fluttered around until it found a daisy to rest on. Then it took off and landed on an old, dry weed. But somehow, with the butterfly on it, the weed looked prettier.” She curved her straight yellow blond hair behind her ear. “We decided that the butterfly was so beautiful that it didn’t matter where it landed. It could go anywhere it wanted, because the butterfly’s beauty comes with it wherever it goes.” Her blue eyes gazed at Julia, and she frowned impatiently. “Don’t you see? That means you can stay here.”

  Julia pursed her lips together. “I think I know what you mean. Because God’s love makes me beautiful, my home can be anywhere?”

  “Yeah, but don’t you get the rest?” Shelby rolled her eyes. “The point is, the butterfly can land on whichever flower it wants to land on. It gets to choose.” She sat up tall. “Where do you want to be? I think maybe you want to stay here, with us. Don’t you, Miss Cavanaugh? Because if you want to stay, but you go back anyway, then you don’t get to be a butterfly anymore.”

  Julia opened her mouth, unsure what to make of the young girl’s reasoning, but before she could respond, she heard a moan from the back of the wagon. Looking behind her, Julia saw Miriam laying flat on her back, grasping her belly and breathing hard.

  “Miriam!” Julia yelped. “What are you doing?”

  “Well.” Miriam let out a breath then sat up again as the struggle seemed to pass. “I think I’m having a baby.”

  Chapter Thirty

  It was mostly curious cowboys and enlisted men who lined the long benches, waiting for the trial to begin. Isaac attempted to shift to get a better view, but he could only see the sides of the spectators’ heads.

  He tilted his chin and looked farther back in the room, and he spied a row of folks he recognized—members of the Lodge Pole church. Isaac’s heart warmed with appreciation. He didn’t know if the judge would consider what the fellow believers, his friends, had to say, since none were witnesses of the crime. At least they’d come to support a sister who was seeking the things of God.

  The bailiff stepped through the rows and grabbed ten men to be the jury. These men moved to the front corner of the room and sat in two rows of benches.

  Sitting near the front, closest to the judge’s bench, was Mabelina. Jim sat beside her, and his large frame blocked most of her from Isaac’s view. Isaac again worked to free himself from the ropes. It did little good. He tried to shout, but the sound was no louder than a muffled whisper.

  The bailiff swore the participants in and then sauntered to the center of the room. “Come to order! The honorable Judge Whalen B. Booker presiding.”

  The judge walked from the corner where he’d been waiting and sat down in front of the shellacked bench. His glasses fell to the tip of his nose as his dark eyes gazed up above them.

  Isaac longed to help Mabelina. Judge Booker couldn’t have expected a woman shooting a man with a roomful of witnesses to be a tough case. And thanks to Warren, who now stepped forward to testify, it wouldn’t be.

  Dear Lord, if You can shut the mouths of lions, surely You can find a way to loosen these ropes.

  The train still rumbled on the tracks as its water tank was refilled. And though Isaac couldn’t hear all the words, he could tell by the expressions on Warren’s face—anger and mock sadness—that he spewed lie-filled accusations. And when he was done, Buck and Joe took their turns standing before the judge, although Isaac knew they hadn’t even been present at the shooting.

  Then the judge gave Mabelina a chance to talk. Isaac strained to listen.

  “Judge, I did shoot our dear Elder Godfrey. He was a good man.” Isaac watched Mabelina’s eyes flit to the pew where the church members sat. “And I’m so sorry.” Her voice thickened. “I never should’ve pulled that gun out.” She turned to the cool, ruminating judge. “But it was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill him, Your Honor.” She shifted her gaze to the jury. “I swear, I didn’t.”

  Mabelina took a moment to compose herself. “I loved a man and was jest tryin’ to get his attention. I never meant to hurt a fly, let alone a good, godly man like Elder Godfrey.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” The judge showed no emotion. He excused her with a wave of his hand. Then he scanned the room. “Are there any other witnesses for the defense?”

  Hands went up all over the room. The judge’s eyes widened in disbelief, and he readjusted himself in his chair.

  Isaac couldn’t help but feel a hint of pleasure.

  Jim was the first out of his seat. He stood without being called on.

  “We know Mabelina’s turned her life right ’round ta where she’s doing good now.” Jim peered directly at the judge. “And we want to speak on her behalf.”

  The tall, sturdy-looking officer waved the witnesses down.

  The judge scanned the depot. “Any of you folks there on the day of the crime?”

  Jim stood and told everything that happened in his own way. Isaac was proud of him for telling the truth, but he was the only other witness present who’d actually seen the shooting happen. And Warren had himself plus two others who swore they saw her shoot Milo in cold blood.

  Isaac assumed it was all over, when another witness stood up. It was one of the women. Her hat was pulled down, shielding most of her face. Isaac had seen her earlier, sitting with his parishioners. She stood and took the hat off. “I say something.”

  Isaac squeezed his eyes tight and then looked again. It was Aponi.

  Warren and his men jumped to their feet. “She can’t be a witness. She’s an Injun and a woman!”

  Contrasting voices of protest and support blared through the small depot, and the judge pounded his gavel.

  “Order! Calm yourselves down,” the judge demanded. His eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at Warren. “Now, you listen to me.” He spoke in a quiet yet firm tone. “The woman may speak.”

  Aponi walked to the front. “I not have much to say. Only truth. I was there that day. I saw Mabelina take out gun. She shoot up toward ceiling. Not trying to kill my husband. I saw.” She faced the jury. “And I forgive her for the accident.” She gazed at Mabelina, nodded, and then walked to Mabelina’s side, sitting down and taking her hand.

  After a brief silence, the room erupted again. Isaac heard one of
the men sitting in the jury commenting, “I don’t care what some Injun says.”

  “Me neither,” another said. “Everyone knows how fool-headed they are. Can’t believe a word they say.”

  Isaac peeked at Mabelina. Her hands covered her face, and her shoulders shook. Tears rolled down Jim’s face, as well. Isaac knew Jim longed to hold her, sweep her away. He again tugged on the ropes with his thumb and forefinger. If only he could get inside that room.

  The judge calmed the room down and turned to the jury. “It is your responsibility to seek justice, no matter who the witness may be. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” the men answered, nearly in unison.

  “Well, I believe that’s all the witnesses we have.” He glanced around, searching for more hands, then returned his attention to the jury. “Take time to deliberate.”

  A tall man who sat at the foremost chair stood. “Give us a minute, please, Yer Honor.”

  Isaac’s heart sank. Would Mabelina go to the gallows because he was stuck in this wagon? He struggled one more time with the knot. Twisting his head behind him, he noticed the end of the rope poking out at an awkward angle. His heart leapt. He knew that knot. It was how a cowhand tied an unbroken horse so it couldn’t squirm itself loose, but the owner could easily untangle it.

  Isaac remembered Lefty’s apologetic look. Why didn’t I think of it earlier?

  He twisted his hand and gripped the loose bit of rope, freeing himself. Thank you, Lefty. A minute later he’d untied his feet, ripped the gag from his mouth, and lunged out of the wagon, sprinting around the building toward the depot’s entrance.

  Without hesitating, Julia climbed over the wagon seat into the back beside Miriam. She felt the hem of her new skirt catch and tear, but in didn’t matter. She knelt beside her friend, and her heart pounded.

  Elizabeth pulled back the reins, slowing the stallion.

  Julia settled Miriam’s head on her lap, smoothing back her wavy brown hair. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she prayed out loud, “please help Miriam deliver this baby safely.”