Sister Theresa paused. “No, Doctor Holloway, I would not advise her to ignore your advice.”
“I see, that’s a very wise answer, Sister Theresa, now let’s get you back to your room, shall we? Thank you for your help, Miss Allen. I’ve got this,” he dismissed her coldly.
In that moment, Magdalena felt the love that had been growing for Lance turn into a blazing flame. Her heart swelled, despite his treatment toward her. He’d handled the sister with dignity, and she stumbled as she turned, the ache in her heart weighing her down.
She pushed back the tears, refusing to let them fall. She’d fallen in love—and lost it because she hadn’t been completely honest. She knew that wasn’t something Lance Holloway could forgive. She didn’t blame him.
She’d approached this entire ultimatum from her father with resentment and reluctance. Now all she wanted was the knowledge that she would be the wife of Lance Holloway someday, but now she would never be. She had blown it.
She’d known she should tell him, even though she didn’t want him to think her interest was because of the ultimatum—because it wasn’t. But her hesitation had cost her something so great that she wasn’t sure she would ever recover from the loss.
Worse yet, her father was probably plotting behind her back to choose a future husband that she’d neither love nor want.
That wasn’t something she could live with, and she’d need to figure something out quickly.
THIRTY-THREE
Magdalena held Raphael tight in her arms, struggling to hold back the tears. She knelt down and looked him right in the eye. “Raphael, you trust me, right?”
“Yes, Miss Allen,” he sniffled.
“Doctor Holloway is going to take you to Philadelphia where I’m from, to a wonderful orphanage with sisters like the sisters here, and children your age, and an excellent classroom where you can learn and find answers to all the questions you have in your heart and mind. Do you understand, Raphael?” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand—to believe.
“Yes, Miss Allen,” he was trying to be brave, even as tears coursed down his cheeks. “Will you come to visit me?” He whispered.
“Yes, oh yes, Raphael, I will come to visit you, I promise. I can’t wait to hear all about your adventure on the train, and about the new things you’ll learn there. I will see you soon, okay?”
“Okay, Miss Allen.”
“Now take Doctor Holloway’s hand and be brave my sweet Raphael.”
“I will, Miss Allen.”
Lance held out his free hand to Raphael.
Magdalena smiled through her tears and released Raphael’s hand from hers. “Godspeed, Doctor Holloway. Be safe. Take good care of Raphael.”
“I will,” he confirmed, barely meeting her eyes.
Raphael dropped Doc Holloway’s hand and took off at full-speed toward the wagon—the only speed Raphael knew. It took Magdalena back to the first day she’d arrived in Bareglen and stopped off the train. Raphael had been one of the first to greet her with his infectious enthusiasm, and she knew without a doubt he would be well received in Philadelphia.
Her father had come through for her on this matter, at least.
She’d refused to let Claire or Sully interfere with what was happening between her and Lance, despite their insistence. She had to trust God to take care of it, if it was His will, He would make it happen.
This also meant that she’d been unable to let the sisters know if she would be staying for another three-month period to teach or not, but they’d decided that a week or two break wouldn’t be terribly disruptive to the children, and they were still actively seeking another volunteer.
She had two weeks left, and Lance would be gone for one of those weeks. He was staying with his friend, Lee Jamison while in Philadelphia, and she knew he was looking forward to being back at his alma mater, and spending time with Lee.
She watched the wagon pull away, as Raphael’s tear-stained face turned back toward hers, and the bravest little boy she’d ever known smiled at her and waved.
She forced a big smile and waved back, determined he would not see a single tear fall from her eyes.
It was hard to believe that a few short weeks ago she had hoped she and Lance would marry and possibly have a boy as sweet as Raphael someday. Now, she was watching them both drive away from her in the wagon.
Magdalena would have been proud to have a son like Raphael. If she and Lance had married, she would have wanted to adopt Raphael, except for the fact that Bareglen Creek would be their home; Sheriff Sully felt Raphael would always be in danger if he lived this close to the Mexican border. Philadelphia simply made the most sense for Raphael in light of those facts.
Magdalena pulled her lesson plans out for the afternoon with the children. The sisters had coordinated a picnic in honor of Raphael, and the children would soon be filing into the classroom, ready for their afternoon lessons. She closed her eyes and prayed for a safe journey for Lance and Raphael, and for an easy transition for Raphael into his new orphanage in Philadelphia.
Her father loved playing the hero figure, so he planned to meet Raphael at the orphanage which also meant he would meet Lance.
She desperately wished she had disclosed her father’s ultimatum to Lance when she realized they both had feelings for one another. Would her father mention it to Lance? She sighed. Hind sight was always twenty-twenty, but she doubted her father would admit his barbaric ultimatum to a colleague.
With that thought, she turned her focus toward the children, and the two remaining weeks they had left together.
THIRTY-FOUR
Magdalena struggled to keep her focus on the lesson plan. Lance was scheduled to arrive back in Bareglen Creek by train today, at least according to his original plan, and she couldn’t think of anything else.
The old saying that absence makes the heart grow fonder was definitely not true—it made it grow more desperate and sad, was all.
She’d received a telegram from her father letting her know that Raphael’s transition to the new orphanage had gone well, and in fact, her father had seemed quite taken with the little boy and had returned to see him again.
Magdalena had long ago outgrown jealousy, and if her father and Raphael benefitted from their contact with one another, then she’d be happy for them.
The sound of multiple horses approaching met her ears, and a feeling of unease settled. Was it a new group of deputies, or could it be the men who were after Raphael had returned? Her heart pounded in her chest, and she quickly moved to the front door, bolting the new reinforced lock in place.
She calmly turned toward the children. “Okay, everyone,” she smiled. “This is a drill and I want you to quickly join me in the center of the room. The children gathered quickly, and without fear. She’d practiced this with them several times, hopeful that if danger returned, they would be prepared and able to obey her wishes flawlessly and quickly.
Magdalena opened the hatch to the large hole Sully’s men had cut into the floor of the schoolroom and encouraged the children to jump down into the hand-dug cellar. “Shh!” She whispered. “No talking. You must be completely silent until you hear my voice telling you otherwise, no matter what. Understood?”
“Yes, Miss Allen,” they whispered in unison.
“Okay,” she smiled, “down with you all.”
Once the last child jumped down, she closed and locked the hatch, then moved the rug and two desks back into place. Then she moved to her desk and opened a book.
No sooner had she opened her book — the door to the classroom burst open, the reinforced lock shattered, and her worst fears were realized. She squared her shoulders.
The man who had threatened her and the children walked through the door.
“Can I help you?” She asked, praying for a calm spirit. “Where are the children?” He asked in broken English.
“They are not here. They are on a field trip today.”
“You lied to me,” he threatened.
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“I beg your pardon?” She asked, feigning genuine confusion.
“You lied to me,” he repeated a cruel twist on his lips.
“I did not lie to you,” Magdalena countered confidently.
“Pablo was here,” he accused.
“We have never had a Pablo here,” she confirmed. “The children here are orphans.”
“You lie!” He yelled. “Jose, bring the sister here!” He demanded.
One of his gunmen pulled Sister Margaret in by her hair.
“No!” Magdalena yelled as she rose. “Please don’t,” she pleaded, moving quickly around her desk toward the sister.
“Stop!” He yelled. “Then tell me where Pablo is.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” Magdalena pleaded. “The children are not here and I know no such child named Pablo.”
The gunman hesitated.
“Please,” she begged. “Let the sister go, she is a saint, and you should not harm her.”
“And you?” He asked, “You are not a saint?”
“I’m not,” she confirmed. “I am not a sister. I am not Catholic. I am a volunteer.”
“Come here,” he demanded.
Magdalena moved toward him, praying that the children would stay quiet. She wondered where the deputies were—the men Sully had left in charge.
“If you are not a Saint, then you will lie to me,” he accused.
“I’m not lying to you.” She assured him before he struck her down.
Magdalena flew several feet across the room, the blow nearly rendering her unconscious.
“You are lying to me, teacher,” he sneered, “and I know that for a fact.”
Magdalena pushed herself up from the floor with a groan. “I’m not,” she insisted.
He raced toward her, kicked her in the ribs, and she rolled on her side.
“Please,” she whispered, “I’m not.”
He kicked her again, and she went quiet.
“Get the sisters,” he instructed the two men behind him. “Bring them out into the yard.”
He kicked Magdalena in the head a final time for good measure and then turned his back on her.
* * *
When Sister Theresa was pulled from her room, she had a vision that this would be her last day on earth. The men pulled one of the other sisters out with her, but she had successfully hidden the third, instructing her to run to town to get help.
Sister Theresa stood boldly before the leader of the outlaws. “You.”
“Yes,” an evil smile spread across his face. “I came back because you refused to die the first time.”
Sister Theresa looked the outlaw in the eyes. “Ah, but you are a fool because you cannot kill me.” Sister Margaret begin to cry at her side and Sister Theresa spoke louder than before. “You cannot kill me because to die on this earth is gain,” she explained. “So even if God wills that my body dies—if God so wills,” she emphasized, “you cannot kill my spirit. But I will pray for you,” she promised. “I will pray for your souls.” She glanced at each of the men, saddened when she saw only dark, soul-deadened eyes.
The gunman raised his gun and put one bullet directly through Sister Theresa’s heart.
She shuttered, then peace covered her face, and she dropped to the ground.
“You’re next, sister,” he warned, turning toward Sister Margaret. No sooner had he said those words than a red stain appeared on his chest. Sister Margaret screamed and dropped to the ground.
Gunshots echoed throughout the schoolyard, and then suddenly everything was silent.
Sully yelled, “Jim and Dwane, to the schoolroom! Carl and Dudley, to the main building!”
Sully moved to Sister Margaret, and she raised her head. “I am all right. Go—help the children,” she instructed, turning her attention to Sister Theresa.
Sully ran toward the schoolroom, praying Magdalena and the children were all right. He entered and found Jim holding Magdalena in his arms. “The children are still locked below. Magdalena is unconscious but alive.”
“Take her to Doc Holloway’s. He’s just arrived. I’ll deal with the children.”
Jim nodded, moving toward the door.
“Hurry,” Sully urged.
“Yes, Sheriff,” Jim acknowledged, running with Magdalena in his arms.
THIRTY-FIVE
Magdalena heard voices. Was that Claire? “Claire,” she croaked.
“Mags, Mags! Lance, she’s awake!”
Magdalena groaned, “It hurts.” She moaned, moving her arm to her side.
“Mags, it’s okay. It’s Claire and I’m here with Lance.”
“Lance?” Magdalena moaned. “He’s mad at me,” she whispered.
“Magdalena, I’m right here,” he assured her. “Open your eyes for me, Magdalena” he encouraged.
But she couldn’t.
* * *
Magdalena opened her eyes. Her body ached and her side felt like a longhorn named Colossal had bunted her with his horns and sent her flying over his corral.
She blinked, closed her eyes and then opened them again. Was she seeing things? “Dad?” She managed. “Maggie!” He whispered tears in his eyes.
“Maggie?” She wondered. That’s Dad’s nickname for me. I’m dreaming, she reasoned.
“No, Maggie, It’s me. It’s Dad,” he promised. “Look at me, baby,” he demanded.
“You’re always so bossy,” she whispered.
He laughed. “It’s true, Maggie, I am. Look at me,” he demanded again sternly.
But she couldn’t keep her eyes open. It hurt too much.
* * *
“Magdalena?” This time it sounded like Lance’s voice.
“I’m dreaming,” she whispered.
“No, Magdalena,” he corrected, “you’re not dreaming. I’m really here. It is me, it’s Lance. Open your eyes. Open your eyes for me, Magdalena.”
Her eyes fluttered. “Open them, now.” He insisted.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Lance? Is that you? You’re back?”
“I'm back,” he smiled, cupping her face. “Keep your eyes open for me, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered with a smile, then groaned. “Get off my ribs,” she moaned.
“It’s not me, Magdalena, you have broken ribs and a concussion, but you’re going to be okay.” He whispered.
Are those tears in his eyes? She wondered as she closed her eyes.
“Magdalena. Don’t close your eyes,” he said sternly. “Open them for me.”
She opened her eyes, “It hurts,” she admitted. “Is Raphael okay? The sisters?”
Lance paused, “Raphael is doing well and he asked about you, Magdalena, and he wants us to visit as soon as we can.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Lance?”
“Yes, Magdalena?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
She could hear it in his voice—he had missed her, and he wanted her to keep her eyes open, but that was mean. She was tired. So tired.
* * *
“Magdalena?” It was Claire’s voice this time. “Mags, seriously, wake up!”
Magdalena moved. Her chest didn’t hurt quite as bad. “Claire?”
“Yes, yes, it’s me, Mags!”
Magdalena opened her eyes as Claire moved away from the bed. “Where are you going?” Magdalena asked.
“You’ve been out for days, Mags. I need to let Lance know you’re awake.”
“No!” Magdalena argued, then she yelped, “Ouch! He’s too bossy. I don’t need him.”
“Oh, Mags. You have no idea. Your dad is here and Lance is here, and everyone wants to know that you’re okay. I have to let them know.”
Magdalena opened her eyes. She really opened her eyes and looked around. “I’m at your house,” she rubbed her temple, then winced.
“You are!” Claire agreed, smiling and happy. “You’re at my house, and you’re okay, Mags. You’re going to be okay,” she squeezed her friends
hand. “You scared me,” Claire admitted.
“I’m sorry.” Magdalena scowled. “Can you help me up?”
“Don’t you even think about it,” Claire warned, and the door behind her opened.
“Magdalena?”
First, it was Lance’s voice, then her dad’s. “Lance? Dad—what are you doing here? I thought you were just a dream,” she admitted.
“Let me see those honey-brown eyes of yours,” Lance insisted, hovering above Magdalena’s face, gently turning her face toward his.
“You’re less bossy,” she observed.
“Don’t get used to it, Magdalena,” he advised. “It’s only for today.”
“I’ll take it,” she smiled, closing her eyes. “Can you help me?” She groaned. “Is someone sitting on my chest? It hurts.”
Everyone was silent.
“You have a few broken ribs, Magdalena.” He explained.
“The gunmen!” Magdalena tried to sit up, but then cried out in pain. Lance pressed her down gently.
“They’re gone, Magdalena. They’re gone and you are safe.” He looked into her eyes.
“Everyone?” She moaned. “Is everyone okay?”
“Raphael is in Philadelphia, and all the children are safe. Your Dad came all the way from Philadelphia.”
She nodded and closed her eyes.
“Rest, Magdalena, I’ll wake you in a few hours.”
Doctor Allen, Claire, and Sully all left the room, but Doc Holloway stayed. Claire and Sully had told him that Magdalena had truly cared about him, and that she’d planned to tell him about her father’s ultimatum. Doctor Allen had also confessed that Magdalena had told him that although she did not approve of his methods, she had indeed fallen in love with the man she hoped to marry, and that she couldn’t wait for them to meet.
He sat on the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his, feeling for her pulse, reminding himself that God had spared her—she was going to be okay—and once she was well, he was going to ask her to marry him.
CHARMED Boxed Set 1, Hero Hearts Historical: Inspirational Western Romance Page 21