by Al Lacy
“You’ve got that exactly right, Lorna,” said Dan, drawing up to the counter and flashing the envelope. “Jenny’s going to be here on the Wells Fargo stage at four o’clock next Tuesday.”
“Wonderful!” exclaimed Jack. “I just know it’s going to work out beautifully between you and Jenny.”
Lorna nodded. “Has to. The Lord is bringing them together without a doubt.”
“Yes. Praise His name!”
“Just like He did us, sweetheart,” Jack said, putting an arm around her. “When God’s in it, everything goes right. I’m really glad for you, Dan.”
Lorna smiled. “Me too. And you be sure we get to meet her as soon as possible.”
“I’ll do that, you can bank on it. Well, I’ve got to let Pastor Denison, Clara, and their daughters know. Then I’m riding to the ranch so I can tell Suzanne she’s about to have a lovely houseguest.”
When Dan arrived at the parsonage, the pastor, Clara, Mary, and Martha rejoiced at the good news. Clara told him she would prepare a nice meal for next Tuesday evening. The newlyweds would be invited, as well as Suzanne Brady. Together they would give Jenny a royal welcome.
Dan was pleased at this gesture and thanked Clara for her kindness. Then, as happy as the proverbial lark, Dan mounted the bay gelding and rode for the ranch.
Suzanne Brady was in the kitchen preparing lunch while wondering what was keeping Dan. She had expected him back by about eleven o’clock. It was now ten minutes till noon.
She pushed the pans and the coffeepot partially off the hot part of the stove, wanting to keep them warm.
When she stepped away from the stove, she stopped, closed her eyes, and put a hand to her forehead. She opened the cupboard and took out an envelope of salicylic acid powders. She measured the dosage into a cup with a teaspoon, then went to the water bucket at the end of the cupboard, filled the cup with the dipper, and stirred it with the spoon.
She was just finishing the last of the mixture when she heard rapid hoofbeats pounding past the side of the house. She swallowed it quickly and used a little more water from the bucket to rinse out the cup.
Footsteps were heard on the back porch and Suzanne turned around when the door came open.
Dan stepped in, a crooked grin on his mouth. “Am I in trouble for being late for lunch?”
Suzanne gave him a loving look. “Not if you have a good reason.”
Dan lifted up the envelope. “How about a letter from Jenny saying she’s coming to be my mail order bride? I had to share the news with Clay and Joel, Jack and Lorna, and the pastor and his family. Is that a good reason?”
Suzanne’s eyes widened. “Really? Is she really coming?”
“Sure is! She’ll be here next Tuesday on the four o’clock stage.”
“Oh, Danny boy! That’s wonderful. Praise the Lord!”
The next morning, Dan Tyler awakened in his cabin to a beautiful sunrise. His first thoughts were of Jenny, then his mind went to the wedding that would take place at the church that afternoon at three o’clock. He wondered if his two pals had gotten any sleep at all.
He got out of bed, washed, shaved, and combed this hair, then put on Levi’s, a shirt, and socks. He slipped into his high-heeled western boots, then sat down at his small table, read his Bible, and had his prayer time. When he was finished, he put on his wide-brimmed cowboy hat, left the cabin, and headed for the barn and corral to do his chores.
A half hour later, Dan was approaching the ranch house when he noticed that there was no smoke rising from the chimney above the kitchen. Something was wrong. Suzanne always had breakfast ready when he came in after doing his chores.
He hastened his pace, and hopped the steps of the back porch in one bound. When he opened the door, his heart skipped a beat. Suzanne was lying on the floor in front of the cupboard. Her eyes were closed and she wasn’t moving.
He dashed to her, knelt down, and touched her face. It was warm and she was breathing. Taking hold of her chubby hands, he squeezed them. “Suzanne! Suzanne! Can you hear me?”
There was no response.
While he ran toward the barn and corral, Dan said, “Oh, dear Lord. Help me to get her to the doctor in time.”
Moments later, he snapped the reins and hurried the team up to the rear of the house. Hopping down from the wagon seat, he dashed back into the house. He checked Suzanne again. She was still breathing, but had not come to.
He dashed to the spare bedroom, gathered up an armful of pillows, and hurried to the linen closet in the hall. With two blankets added to his pillow supply, he ran outside to the wagon and made Suzanne a soft place to lie in the wagon bed next to the tailgate.
He was still praying as he dashed back into the kitchen and gathered her limp form into his arms. He carried her quickly to the wagon and laid her on the pillows, then covered her with the blankets. After running back to close the back door, he climbed into the wagon seat, looked at Suzanne one more time, and put the horses to a gallop.
During the fast trip toward town, Dan looked over his shoulder repeatedly. Suzanne had not moved, and her eyes were still closed.
When the wagon came to a halt in front of Dr. Wesley Foreman’s office in Mogollon, he hopped down from the seat, ran around to the tailgate, and flipped it down.
He reached in to gather Suzanne up in his arms, and as soon as he touched her, he knew she was dead. Her skin was cool, and she was not breathing.
Sick at heart, Dan picked up the lifeless body, and with people on the street looking on wide-eyed, he carried it inside. The nurse at the desk stood up and looked at the body. “Oh, dear. It’s Suzanne Brady. Is she—”
“Yes, ma’am. She’s dead. I’m her hired hand, ma’am. I found her unconscious on the kitchen floor when I went into the ranch house to have breakfast with her as usual. By the time I got her here in the wagon, she was dead.”
The nurse dashed to the examining room at the rear of the office, and brought Dr. Foreman into the office. His face pinched when he saw the limp form in Dan’s arms. He asked Dan to follow him, and when they reached an examining table in a secluded corner of the room, he asked Dan to lay the body on it.
When it was done, Foreman told Dan to wait out in the office. He would do a thorough examination and let him know what caused her death.
A half hour had passed when the doctor appeared and told Dan that Suzanne had died of heart failure.
Dan frowned. “Had she been having heart trouble, Doctor?”
“No, but like her husband, her heart just gave out. Since you’re the hired hand, I’d suggest you go to her attorney and let him know. He will have to handle the legal papers for the sale of the ranch. Have you met him? His name is Derek Campbell.”
“No, sir. I recall her mentioning her attorney a time or two, but I didn’t know his name.”
Foreman nodded. “His office is in the next block across the street.”
“Yes, I recall seeing the sign many times. Since there are two other attorneys in town, I wasn’t sure which one was hers. I’ll go see him right now, then I’ll go to her pastor’s house and let him know. I’ll let him make the funeral arrangements.”
“Fine. I’ll just keep her here till I hear from him.”
When Dan sat down in attorney Derek Campbell’s office, Campbell said, “I’m sorry to hear this news, Mr. Tyler. Suzanne was a fine woman.”
“That she was, sir.”
Campbell leaned over the desk. “Did Suzanne tell you about the will?”
“The will?”
Campbell eased back in his chair. “Then you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Well, on the day after she learned that her sister had died, Suzanne sent one of her neighbors to bring me to the ranch. You were with the cattle in the pastures at the time.”
“Oh.”
“Suzanne willed the ranch to you, Mr. Tyler.”
Dan’s features blanched. “She did?”
“Yes. She didn’t want you to know a
bout it until she found the right time to tell you. Apparently she hadn’t found the right time, yet.”
Stunned, Dan said, “I … I guess not. I had no idea she liked me that much.”
The attorney smiled. “She spoke quite well of you, and since she had no living heirs, she wanted her faithful hired man to have the ranch. You will also get the money she had in the bank. I’ll draw up the legal papers so we can put the ranch in your name.”
“All right.”
“While I’m at it, do you want to change the name of the ranch? You know, like the Box T, or the Bar T, or the Circle T, or something like that?”
Dan ran a palm over his eyes. “Well, let’s keep the ‘Box’ in it. We’ll go with the Box T.”
“Fine. Come and see me on Monday, and I’ll have the papers ready.”
From the attorney’s office, Dan went to the parsonage of the other Bible-believing church in town and informed Pastor Lance Kemper of Suzanne’s death. A shocked Kemper agreed that he would make the funeral arrangements.
Dan’s heart was heavy as he drove the wagon into the ranch yard. Everything looked the same, but it wouldn’t be the same without sweet Suzanne. He was going to miss her terribly.
While he dressed up in one of his Sunday suits in preparation for the wedding, he was still in shock over Suzanne’s sudden death and the fact that she left everything to him.
As he stood before the mirror in his cabin and tied his bow tie, he said, “Lord, she was such a dear lady. I prayed that You would not let her die, but You always know best. I know this much: heaven is all the more special with Suzanne there.”
It was almost two o’clock when Dan mounted his bay gelding and rode toward town. He was very much looking forward to being best man for his two closest friends and their brides. He would wait until after the wedding to tell Clay and Joel about Suzanne’s death. Nothing should put a damper on their big day.
Suzanne Brady was buried on Monday morning. Dan’s friends and their new wives sat with him at the well-attended funeral service in the church, and stood beside him at the graveside service, which had the same crowd. Pastor Lance Kemper brought two excellent messages.
After the graveside service, Dan went to attorney Derek Campbell’s office, and the legal formalities were finished. When Dan rode away, heading for the ranch, he thanked the Lord for making it possible for him to own the ranch. It would give him the opportunity to provide a good living for Jenny and him.
When he arrived at the ranch, Dan moved all of Suzanne’s personal belongings into the large storage shed near the toolshed and took his own few belongings from the cabin to the ranch house.
He smiled when he thought about how clean the house was, and how everything was in its proper place. That was Suzanne’s custom. Even at eighty-four, she worked every day inside and outside the house. Her handiwork was evident wherever he looked.
When he had changed the bedding on the bed that was now his, he could still almost feel Suzanne’s presence in the room. “I’ll do you and Jim proud, Suzanne,” he whispered. “This ranch will prosper and make a lovely home for Jenny and me and however many children the Lord gives us. Thank you, Suzanne, for your sweet generosity and all of your hard work. You rest, now, there in heaven. You certainly deserve it.”
Just before sunrise on Tuesday morning, September 5, Jenny Linden’s stagecoach stopped in Gallup, New Mexico, allowing two passengers to get off. While she was out of the coach, stretching her legs, she saw the stage driver, Will Hentzel, and his shotgunner, Harry Eubank, come out of the Wells Fargo office with two men who were handcuffed together. One of the two men was wearing a U.S. deputy marshal’s badge and wore a Colt .45 in his holster, which was on his right hip. His left wrist bore the handcuff.
The four men stopped a few feet from the stage, and Jenny picked up by their conversation that the deputy was taking his prisoner to Holbrook, Arizona, to stand trial for murder.
Driver Will Hentzel stepped up to Jenny and said, “You can get back on the stage now, Miss. Once you’re settled, the deputy and his prisoner will board.”
While Jenny was climbing back into the coach, Hentzel and Eubank were making their way toward the front of the stagecoach.
Just as Jenny sat down on the seat, she heard a heavy grunt and a scuffling sound. She turned to see the deputy and his prisoner wrestling for control of the deputy’s revolver, which the prisoner had evidently snatched from the deputy’s holster. It was in the prisoner’s hand, and the hammer was cocked. The driver and shot-gunner were running toward the struggling men when the gun went off.
The bullet buzzed past Jenny’s right ear, so close she felt the heat and breath of it. A tiny gasp escaped her lips. Her body stiffened and felt like it had turned to stone. She fell back against the back of the seat.
The deputy and his prisoner were still struggling, each for control of the gun. Shotgunner Harry Eubank cracked the outlaw savagely on the back of the head with the butt of his shotgun. The impact of the blow dropped him to the ground like a broken doll. The revolver fell from his hand and was instantly retrieved by the deputy, who was on one knee beside him. He holstered the gun, then used the key to unlock the handcuff on his own wrist.
By this time, the Fargo agent was on the scene, standing over the unconscious outlaw beside the deputy. The outlaw’s head was cracked and people were gathering around, eyes wide.
The door of the stagecoach swung open. Will Hentzel stuck his head in and saw the hole in the opposite side of the coach next to the window. “Miss Blair, are you all right?”
Jenny’s features were white. She licked her lips and stammered, “I … I … think so. Th-the bullet just missed m-my right ear.”
“Hang on. I’ll get you some water.”
Hentzel dashed to the front of the stage, reached up, and took down his canteen from the seat. He hurried back to Jenny and uncapped the canteen. “I filled it with fresh water in Albuquerque.”
With trembling fingers, Jenny grasped the canteen, put the spout to her lips, and took a long pull. Managing a tiny smile, she handed the canteen back to him. “Thank you, Mr. Hentzel.”
“You’re welcome, Miss. I’m sorry this happened. By the position of that bullet hole over there, I’d say you came within an inch or two of being killed. You sure you’re all right?”
Jenny nodded in jerky movements. “Yes. Just a little shaken.”
“I can understand that,” Hentzel said, backing out of the coach. “We’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes.”
Jenny clasped her hands together and looked toward the scene. The outlaw was lying on the ground, his head bleeding. He was still unconscious. The deputy was asking two townsmen to help him carry his prisoner to the doctor’s office down the street.
Together, driver and shotgunner stepped up to the side of the coach. The door was still open. Hentzel leaned in. “We’re going to pull out, Miss Blair. You sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Hentzel closed the door, turned, and climbed up onto the seat. Eubank joined him on the other side. A moment later, the stage was rolling out of Gallup, heading due west.
Sitting alone in the coach, a shaken Jenny Linden was trembling all over as she thought how close the bullet came to her head. Suddenly her mind went back to Laura Denton and how Laura had shown her in the Bible that if she died without Christ, she would go to hell. The Scripture passages Laura had underlined and shown her—and that Jenny had gone over while writing the letter to Dan Tyler—came to mind sharply. She tried to shake them out of her mind, but they remained there, ripping at her heart until the stage stopped in Holbrook.
At Holbrook, they picked up a passenger. She was middle-aged, and introduced herself as Alice Rodine, saying she was on her way to visit her nephew and his wife, who lived in Mogollon. Jenny Blair introduced herself. The stage pulled out. The Scripture passages were still stabbing Jenny’s heart, but as she and Alice began talking, the passages faded from Jenny’s thoughts.
The time seemed to pass quickly while the two women talked, and before Jenny realized it, the driver called from up top, saying Mogollon was in sight.
A tremor ran through Jenny’s body. She was about to meet the man who murdered her father.
Alice began dabbing at the hair beneath the brim of her bonnet. Jenny did the same, and worked at rubbing what wrinkles she could from her dress. Her heart was pounding, but her resolve to exact justice on Dan Tyler came to the forefront of her mind.
Dan Tyler was standing in front of the Wells Fargo office in Mogollon. It was 4:25, and he was getting concerned as to why the stage was late when he saw a dust cloud on the road to the east. Seconds later the stagecoach was in plain sight ahead of the dust cloud.
Dan’s heart lurched in his chest.
Moments later, the stage drew up and the Fargo agent moved past Dan, asking the driver what made them late. Will Hentzel told him they had a little incident in Gallup that delayed their departure, but everything was all right.
Dan stepped up close to the coach as the shotgunner opened the door and helped a middle-aged woman out. Just behind her was a blue-eyed blonde.
Dan’s heart lurched again.
Harry Eubank helped the blonde down, and Dan moved up, smiling for all he was worth. Jenny let go of Eubank’s hand and painted a smile on her face. “Dan?”
“Yes, Jenny. I … I’m so happy you’re here. Could—could I give you a welcome hug?”
The thought of her father’s murderer touching her was disgusting, but she knew it had to be. Holding the smile, she nodded. “Uh-huh.”
While Dan was giving her a brotherly hug, Jenny felt revulsion, and her hatred for him seethed in her like cold acid, but she had to keep up her act. She hugged him in return. When they released each other, Jenny covered her true feelings. “I’m so glad to finally meet you.”
Dan looked down into her blue eyes. “Same here. You’re even more beautiful than your picture.”
She gave him another smile just as Harry Eubank stepped up with her satchel in hand. “Here you are, Miss Blair.”