by Barbara Goss
To avoid a confrontation with Ram, Laurel asked Maggie to bring her a breakfast tray. When Maggie's worried eyes pressed her for an excuse, Laurel merely pleaded a headache.
Maggie brought back a delightful-looking tray, set it on the desk, and disappeared out the French doors with Smoky. The aroma of fresh-perked coffee drew Laurel from the bed. She sat before the tray. Pouring her coffee, she noted how appetizing the food looked. Perhaps she should do this more often. Two eggs, a slice of ham, and delicious homemade bread sat on a plate beside a dish of fresh fruit. She enjoyed the breakfast in her room more than any she'd eaten sitting beside Ram Atwood.
After breakfast she spent the rest of the morning with her father, without telling him about Ram or about Jeremy. Both situations were bound to upset him. They played checkers and a few games of cards though Laurel had a hard time concentrating.
Laurel became restless at lunchtime and decided she needed fresh air and exercise. If Ram and the others were having their noon meal, she would be safe walking along the creek. It was a pleasant place to walk and there was a well-worn path that made walking easy.
Passing the rock, pleasant memories of her first kiss enlivened her. She decided to walk farther than the rock, but not as far as the shanty or the place where they had discovered Dusty's body. Laurel found a peaceful area to sit and reflect. An odd-shaped tree afforded her a seat on its low, crooked branch. She sighed. It felt good to be outdoors, free and alive. Resting her head against the rough bark, she closed her eyes. Thoughts of Jeremy and her first kiss flooded her mind. She felt herself smile. Slowly, an unusual, uneasy feeling overcame Laurel. No longer did she feel alone, safe, and secure. Opening her eyes, she saw a figure looming over her. She jumped and gasped. How long had he been watching her?
“Ram, you frightened me!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Why didn't you announce your presence?”
“Maybe I didn't want my presence known yet,” he said boyishly.
Wide-eyed, Laurel prepared for flight.
“No. Don't go. I need to talk to you,” he said in a voice that was not his usual flirting tone.
Sitting back on her branch, she waited nervously.
“I need an answer to one question, that's all,” he stated simply.
She nodded.
“If I wanted to marry you, would I have a chance? Or have you pretty much selected Captain Grant?”
“You said one question. Which would you like an answer to?” she stalled feeling her palms becoming sweaty.
“The first.”
“Honesty, I've not given marriage a thought. I've just found my new life and would like to get to know myself as I am.” She studied him carefully and suddenly became brave. “May I ask you a question?”
He sighed running a hand through his hair. “Sure.”
“Why are you so concerned about my father's will, when he'll be around for quite some time? He's quite healthy.”
“Who told you I was concerned?” he flared, his face distorted with anger and his fists clenched.
“I overheard a conversation you had with your mother one day,” she admitted.
He muttered an oath and slammed his fist down on the branch she sat upon, causing her to half jump and half slip off the limb.
Ram walked away from her with a brisk, serious gait. He turned a few feet away and pointed an angry finger at her. “You! I'm not through with you yet!” He spat and stomped away.
As Laurel practically ran back to the house, she scolded herself for mentioning that will. The Ram she just saw was one she hoped to never see again. He was, indeed, a very dangerous man.
Back safely in her room, she paced. What would Ram do? His words keep ringing in her head: “You! I'm not through with you yet!” Should she tell her father? Contact Jeremy? How could she decide what to do? She spent the rest of the day worrying and trying not to show her worry to Maggie.
Dressing for dinner, Laurel shivered at the thought of sitting beside Ram after their confrontation this afternoon. If she didn't appear, though, her father would worry. She dared not use the headache excuse again or he and Maggie would probably call a doctor.
Her reluctance nearly made her late, and Laurel entered the dining room last. Everyone awaited her: Ram, Ada, Maggie, and Angus all looked up as she entered, wearing a yellow chiffon dress, with a matching ribbon holding back her thick hair.
Everyone, including Ram, was congenial. Laurel wondered at the man's ability to act as if nothing had transpired between them. Was he sane?
After dinner, she resumed pacing in her room. Maggie had Smoky, so at least she didn't have to worry about disturbing him. Should she contact Jeremy? Opening the French doors, she stepped out and paced the balcony.
A knock on her hall door brought her back into the stuffy bedroom. Expecting Maggie or Ada, she was surprised to see Melita standing outside her door, weeping.
“Melita! Come in. What's wrong?” asked Laurel.
“You fool!” she spat, sniffling into her handkerchief. Closing the door, she fired questions at Laurel. “What did you tell Ram? And why did you let him see you and Jeremy kiss last night? Have you any idea the damage you've caused?”
Laurel gulped. “He saw us? But Ram was fine at dinner,” Laurel said, at a loss for answers to her questions.
“Fine? He's furious! Have you any idea what that man is capable of or what he's capable of making me do?” she cried hysterically.
“Melita, calm down,” Laurel soothed. “What do you mean capable of making you do?”
“Nothing. Just forget I was ever here tonight. Didn't Jeremy invite you to stay with him and Flora?”
“Yes, but I refused. I don't want to leave my father or Maggie.”
Melita took the handkerchief from her face and stared at Laurel. Her beautiful face was marred with red blotches from crying, and her crazed eyes looked blackened from smeared makeup. In her stress, she looked far different from the first time Laurel saw her. Could this be that same sophisticated, poised, educated woman whom she had envied? “I’m… I’m sorry,” Laurel shivered.
Melita took a deep breath and practically whispered, “All right, Laurel. I'll try talking with Ram. Maybe I can get him to change his mind. If I do, can I tell him you'll at least consider marrying him?”
Laurel hesitated, making a wry face.
“Laurel your life is in danger! At least consider it!” Melita snapped with such vehemence that Laurel instinctively backed up against the wall.
She and Ram are both crazy, Laurel thought, shivers running the length of her spine.
Chapter 16
Just as Laurel put the finishing touches on her Sunday outfit Ada knocked on the door and announced that Jeremy had come for her. She had decided to wear a light- blue cotton, such as the other, simple, friendlier women wore. She didn't need to impress anyone with her rich clothes and she no longer desired to try and be like Melita. Besides, the cotton was cooler and more comfortable. Laurel felt better in the simple dress, more herself. Placing a bonnet on her auburn hair, she pinched her cheeks and walked toward the living room to meet the man she hoped to spend the rest of her life loving.
Jeremy smiled when she appeared. “You look beautiful.” He opened the front door and helped her into the wagon. “That dress matches your eyes. Laurel, I don't think I've ever seen you look prettier—except maybe that first day, in your breeches, flannel shirt, and floppy hat.”
She gave him a sideways glance, and they both laughed as the wagon started down the driveway. Laurel turned back toward the house in time to see Ram standing in front of the stable, staring after them. She shivered.
The couple picked up Flora and continued on to church. Afterward they enjoyed a delicious meal at the Grant home. Flora, her usual bubbling self, seemed especially pleased that Laurel and Jeremy were not only getting along, but actually enjoying each other's company.
Just before dark, Laurel and Jeremy began their trip back to the ranch. Flora had baked a chocolate cake for the McCal
listers, and Laurel held it on her lap.
Laurel confided to Jeremy the details of her latest visit from Melita and her concern for the stress the girl seemed to be under. Jeremy stopped the wagon.
“There's something I need to explain, Laurel,” he said. “Melita and I…” He looked at her apologetically.
“You don't need to explain…” she began.
“But I do. Please. I've known Melita since we were kids. She's a beautiful girl, and I was flattered by her attention. I admit I didn't realize she was using me, but I didn't love her, and that’s why I couldn't set a wedding date. Dusty mistrusted her all along. He was an excellent judge of people.” Jeremy looked heavenward. “God bless him.”
“That reminds me,” said Laurel. “During Dusty's memorial service the preacher said something I'm curious about. How does he or anyone else know Dusty's in heaven? Don't we all have to wait and be judged?”
“Some people believe that's how it will be. However, the Bible says in John 5: 24 'Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.’”
“And God said those words?” she asked.
“Yes, the Bible was written by men inspired by God to put his words on paper.”
Laurel thought for several seconds. “Jeremy, I must get my father and grandmother to church with us.”
“Pray for them.”
“Why?” she asked in alarm.
Jeremy laughed. “No, I mean pray that they'll go to church with you.”
A thoughtful smile curved her mouth. “I will.”
“There’s one other thing I need to clear up with you, Laurel,” he took both her hands in his. “I knew the first day on the trail when I saw you in your britches and floppy hat that you were special. I was even then attracted to you. That’s why I was jealous of the attention you gave Dusty. But I had just been jilted, and love, relationships… I wanted no part of them. I thought if I stayed clear of you, the feelings would go away.” He smiled. “But I’m glad they didn’t. They intensified. I knew the night of your going away party that I was in love. Yet, I feared those feelings. That’s why I didn’t accompany you the day you moved in with your father. I was still fighting those feelings. I guess I was protecting my male ego, too. I figured if you cared for Dusty over me it would be better to find that out now, rather than later.”
Laurel simply smiled. “I’m glad you aren’t fighting them anymore.”
He picked up the reins and urged the horses forward. When they reached the house, he walked her to the door. Taking care not to crush the cake, he kissed her good night.
“Don't forget, if you need me, tell Maggie; she knows how to reach me. Manuel is still hanging around. I haven't left you entirely on your own. Be careful, my love.”
Going straight to her room, after delivering the cake to the kitchen, Laurel took the large Bible from the nightstand. She paged and paged until she found John 5:24, read the words slowly, and wondered how Jeremy had remembered them exactly. Did Maggie know about this?
Walking down the hall, she knocked softly on Maggie's door. The door opened a crack, and two noses poked out, one near the floor and very gray, the other Maggie's.
Laurel laughed. “Hello, you two! I've come for a visit.” Being with Jeremy had lightened her dismal mood. She scooped up Smoky as Maggie pulled her inside. Kissing Smoky’s head, she let him down and pushed the Bible under Maggie's nose. “Read this verse, John 5:24.”
Maggie took the book to her rocking chair, sat beneath a bright floor lamp, and read the words. She then looked at Laurel with questioning eyes.
“God said that!” Laurel exclaimed. “That's how Jeremy and the people in his church know Dusty is in heaven. Isn't that wonderful to know you're going to heaven, without a doubt?”
Maggie smiled knowingly, then flipped back a few pages and pointed to a verse someone had circled. Maggie urged her to read it. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
Laurel hugged her grandmother. “Oh, Gram, I'm so glad you know this, too. Now no matter what happens to either of us, we'll never be separated again.”
Maggie smiled with tearing eyes and returned her hug. She patted her heart and then Laurel’s head, her way of saying “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She smiled warmly at her. “Gram, does Father know these things?"
Maggie sobered and shook her head. She took a pencil and wrote on a paper,
He used to, before your mother died.
“Will you help me pray for him?” she asked earnestly.
Maggie smiled, wiping away a stray tear. She nodded.
“I’ll take Smoky back to my room,” Laurel announced, picking up the kitten. “Good night. See you at breakfast.”
Back in her room, Laurel brushed her hair and thought about all the things that had transpired this day. A noise called her attention to the French doors. Smoky rubbed against the glass.
“Do you need to go out?”
“Meo-o-w.” Smoky rubbed his head against the glass and looked up at her expectantly.
“Okay, but you come right back in when I call you.” She opened the door, and he squeezed through before she even had it opened all the way. “Silly fellow!” She laughed.
Laurel fished in the drawer for her pink nightgown and matching bathrobe. She removed her clothing and donned the nightclothes. After washing in the basin, she started to take the sudsy bowl out onto the balcony to toss, when Smoky dashed in, whizzing between her legs and nearly caused her to drop the water. She set down the basin and followed him under the bed. What did she smell? What had Smoky gotten himself into now?
Pulling the frightened kitten out from under the bed, by his hind feet, she gagged.
“Smoky, where were you? Did you knock over someone's lantern or lamp? You reek of kerosene. Ugh! It's a good thing I didn't dump my bathwater!”
Dunking the errant kitten into the sudsy water, and covering him with soap she commented, “You look mighty puny without all your fluffy hair! That's the best I can do with such a small amount of water. Tomorrow you'll get a regular bath. This just means you and I can share a room tonight!”
Towel drying the trembling gray cat, she removed as much wetness as possible from his fur. After rolling on the floor several minutes, a damp Smoky finally snuggled up beside Laurel. Both slept soundly.
Laurel awoke to a strange, frantic scratching noise. Sitting straight up from a sound sleep, she looked around the moonlit room. Simultaneously three things struck her: Smoky’s scratching at the door and crying, an odd smell, and the fogginess that filled the room. Her heart pounded in alarm.
Springing from the bed, Laurel tried to open the French doors, but they seemed stuck. Gaining strength from her anxiety, she forced open the door with every bit of muscle she had and noticed that someone had wedged the porch chair beneath the doorknob. Why? Who? But, she had no time for questions.
As Smoky ran off into the night, she turned back toward the hall door and coughed. A crackling sound made her realize the smell came from a fire! Laurel hesitated. She could run to safety as Smoky had done, but what about the rest of the household? When she opened her bedroom door to the hall, heat and thick smoke hit her face, temporarily taking her breath away. She slammed the door shut. How could she reach her father and Maggie? Were they aware of the danger?
Opening the door again, she yelled, “Help, fire!” Then slammed it shut quickly, and ran for the balcony. Thick smoke filled the room now, and she slowed to feel her way, coughing and gagging. She reached the French doors just as a dark figure burst into the room.
“Laurel! Are you all right?”
“Jeremy! Thank God it's you!” She coughed and eyes were burning.
He hugged her to him briefly. “C'mon, out on the balcony,” he ordered.
“I ca
n't. What about my father and Maggie?”
“Do what I say quickly, so I can get them, too!” he commanded. “Run to the stable and stay there until I come for you.” She trusted Jeremy, so she obeyed without question.
Though dark, and dreary, at least the stable provided fresh air and safety. Flames from the burning house cast an eerie orange glow on the barn. Laurel knelt in the straw and prayed as she'd never prayed before.
Back on her feet, she decided she had to know what was happening. She left the barn and merely stood in front of it. Fiery teeth bit at the ranch home, devouring it with a sinister roar. Had Jeremy reached her father? Maggie? What about Ram and Ada?
Suddenly a figure broke through the haze. Jeremy! He carried someone. As they drew closer she could see it was her father. Jeremy laid him down at Laurel's feet and ran back toward the house. “I'm going for Maggie,” he yelled.
“Be careful, Jeremy!” she called after him. She then gave her attention to her father.
“Are you all right, Father?” She stooped, raising his head with one hand.
He coughed. “Fine, thanks to your friend Jeremy. That's two I owe him now!”
“Do you know where the rest are?”
“No. I pointed out Maggie's room to Jeremy. Hope he gets to her in time; the smoke's pretty thick in there.” He continued coughing.
Seconds later, Jeremy appeared with another bundle: Maggie.
“I can't go in for anyone else. The whole place is ablaze! The walls and ceiling are caving in, and we barely made it out. Help me with Maggie; she isn't breathing.”
Angus, Jeremy, and Laurel all took turns trying to get Maggie to respond. They breathed into her mouth, they sat her up and slapped her back, to no avail. Jeremy felt for her pulse and shook his head sadly.