The Renegade's Redemption

by Stacy Henrie

  “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Her voice came out far more calm than she felt. Ravena took a deliberate step past him. “I’d better see to the boys before they unpack everything in their search for that hat.”

  She didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead she moved purposely down the hall toward the stairs. Away from Tex. The plowing and planting couldn’t be finished soon enough in her opinion—for the crops and for her own sanity. Once they were finished, Tex could leave.

  Then she could return her focus to bringing the four brothers from Boise to the farm, and in turn, feeling that she’d finally made up for the ways she’d let her grandfather down in the past. Only then would she have peace.

  * * *

  Tex’s second full week at the farm had passed more quickly than his first. He was grateful, especially to be moving about with greater ease. He’d insisted on switching Ravena for the sofa in the parlor now that he was nearly all healed. It felt good to be one step closer to his old physical stamina and to fulfilling his promise to help Ravena.

  Once Tex had finished the plowing, he, Ravena and Jacob had started on the planting. The older boy had told her that missing some school to help wouldn’t prove fatal to his education and that the work would go faster with three. Ravena had finally relented. They were making good progress, but Tex still felt bushed each night. After assisting with the evening chores, he ate supper with the family and then went straight to bed. While being an outlaw came with its own mental and physical tasks, he hadn’t experienced this level of exhaustion in years.

  In spite of seeing each other every day, Ravena said very little to him, and when she did, the conversation revolved around the planting, the children or the weather. Tex wasn’t surprised. Ever since he’d shown her and the children the coin he’d won from Quincy, Ravena had been polite but cool toward him.

  He told himself it was a good lesson to learn. If Ravena couldn’t stomach him gambling, even once, she’d never be able to swallow his outlawing career. Tex had taken to keeping the coin in his pocket, alongside his mother’s earrings, as another reminder. He couldn’t get too comfortable here—he was an outlaw, not a farmer. And once he’d satisfied his obligation to Ravena, he would move on before she learned of his other choices, choices he felt certain she would condemn.

  “Seeing to the animals is sure a lot faster with two,” Jacob said, bringing Tex back to the present.

  He chuckled as he added Jacob’s pitchfork to his own and put them away. “That it is. My brother and I used to complain about the chores, to my mother’s constant frustration, but it never seemed so bad when you knew you had someone else working next to you.”

  His words brought several happy memories flitting through his mind, times when he and Tate would compete to see who could finish their chores first and end up chucking hay at each other. Tate was usually the one in the lead and Tex would be the one to start baling hay on his brother. They were like night and day in how they viewed the world, and yet, they’d once been the best of friends.

  Remorse followed on the heels of his thoughts. Tex had made the choice not to contact Tate after riding away from the farm eight years ago, but now... A sudden longing filled him to know where his brother was and how he fared.

  Jacob followed Tex to the barn doors. “You have a brother?”

  “A twin, actually.”

  “Do you look alike?”

  Tex shot the older boy a grin. “The mirror image of each other. Used to give our schoolteacher fits whenever we pretended to be the other. Our ma, on the other hand, she could always tell who was who.”

  Jacob laughed, though a wistful expression settled onto his face. “I think I’d like having a twin or an older brother.”

  “Is it just you and Fanny?” Tex asked as he secured the doors behind them.

  “It is now.” Tex waited for Jacob to elaborate, and after a long moment of staring at the ground, he continued. “Ma died pretty soon after Fanny was born, so our older sister took care of us while our pa was away working. But last year we got word that Pa was killed. Felicity didn’t want us to go to an orphanage so she didn’t tell anyone what happened to our pa—she insisted we tell Fanny and our neighbors that he was still away working.”

  Jacob pocketed his hands and kicked at a clod of dirt, his chin low. “Then Felicity got real sick. I went for the doctor, but it took a long time to get him, because it was snowing. She died the next day.”

  Stepping up to the boy, Tex laid a comforting hand on Jacob’s shoulder. He could feel it trembling beneath his fingers. “So you took over caring for Fanny.”

  The boy nodded, then swiped a hand beneath his nose. “I knew Felicity hadn’t wanted us to go to an orphanage, so I didn’t want to go there either. We ended up here in the valley and someone told me about Miss Ravena. Me and Fanny have been here ever since.”

  Shared grief and compassion welled up inside Tex. Even if he’d been older when his mother had died, he knew the pain of losing a loved one. “Sounds like you did the best you could to keep you and Fanny together. And to help your sister Felicity too.”

  “You really think so?” The earnest look in Jacob’s eyes as he lifted his head pierced Tex’s heart. The boy was looking to him for help. “I tried, Mr. Beckett...” His voice wobbled. “But maybe...maybe it wasn’t enough for either of my sisters.”

  Tex gave Jacob’s shoulder a firm squeeze, then lowered his hand. “You did all that you could, kid. And I imagine Felicity and your parents are real proud of you.”

  Jacob visibly relaxed. “I hope so.”

  Was Tex’s mother proud of him? He tensed at the thought, certain he knew the answer.

  “So do you think that maybe...” Jacob shrugged, not quite looking at Tex. “Well, that maybe you could be like an older brother, to me?” He cleared his throat. “I mean to all of us kids here at Miss Ravena’s.”

  The inquiry took Tex by surprise. He hadn’t been a part of a family in ages. The idea was more tempting than he’d expected. But even as he wanted to answer in the affirmative, he couldn’t. He wasn’t staying. “I don’t know that I’ll be here that long, kid.”

  Jacob’s hopeful countenance fell, stirring guilt in Tex’s gut. “Right. I meant just until the planting’s done.”

  What was it about being here that kept pricking at his conscience? He swallowed hard, wondering how much more prodding he could take before he’d have to flee. “Tell you what. Until the work is finished here, you’re welcome to think of me as an older brother.”

  “Really? That’d be great, Mr. Beckett.” Jacob’s eyes widened with eagerness, making him appear younger. Tex couldn’t help thinking of the childhood the boy had lost. Jacob had been forced to grow up quick, just as Tex and Tate did after their father had up and left the family.

  Up and left. The words sprouted inside Tex’s mind and wouldn’t let him go. His father had up and left them just as Tex had later up and left Ravena and Tate. The similarities between him and his father rocked Tex to his core, as they had in the past. Was he destined to leave broken hearts and homes behind him wherever he went, same as his father? But I’m back now and trying to make some amends. He clung to that thought with all of his remaining strength. Because that was something his father hadn’t done after walking out on them that last time.

  Tex shook himself and strolled toward the house, Jacob right beside him. What had they been talking about? “If I’m going to be an older brother, I guess you’d better stop calling me Mr. Beckett. Call me Tex instead.”

  “Tex,” Jacob repeated. “Is that short for something?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. My mother’s family is originally from Texas.”

  “You ever been there?”

  Opening the screen door for them, Tex paused to consider his answer. He didn’t want to give any information, even to Jacob, that might t
ie him to the Texas Titan. “I have been through there, yes.”

  “When I’m older,” Jacob said in a determined tone as he ambled inside, “I want to travel. See more of this country than what’s right here.”

  That had been Tex’s boyhood wish too. And he’d certainly done his fair share of travelling, even if it was mostly throughout Texas. But as he trailed Jacob inside, his gaze moving to the kitchen where he could see Ravena wiping the table, he didn’t feel the same satisfaction that living a vagrant life usually brought.

  “Nothing wrong with wishing, kid,” he said, clapping Jacob on the back. “Just remember there is something special about having a home to eventually come home to.” Even if Tex couldn’t stay, even if a real home was no longer a possibility for him, he sincerely hoped it would be for Jacob and each of these orphans.

  They joined Ravena in the kitchen. “Chores are all done, Miss Ravena,” Jacob announced.

  She ran her rag over the corner of the table and straightened. “That was even faster than last night. Thank you. Both of you,” she added with a glance at Tex. He nodded in acknowledgment. “I have your slices of pie.”

  “Oh good. I’m starved.” Jacob plunked into a chair.

  Tex laughed. “You just ate supper,” he said, taking a seat as well.

  “There’s always room for pie, especially Miss Ravena’s.”

  “I can’t argue with you there, kid.” Tex shot her a smile, which succeeded in pinking her cheeks, as she set a plate of pie in front of Jacob. The boy began wolfing it down.

  She brought Tex his plate next, but unlike Jacob’s, his held two slices. He’d seen the pie earlier and knew there were enough slices to go around with one extra.

  “You don’t want the extra slice?” he asked.

  Ravena shook her head. “No, you can have it. I know it’s your favorite.”

  The kind gesture resurrected the cozy feeling he’d experienced the other night. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll have it,” Jacob said around a full bite.

  “No, it’s for Mr. Beckett.”

  The boy shrugged and returned his attention to his own slice.

  Tex forked some of the pie and slid it into his mouth. Ravena had always been an excellent cook. Even the fare he’d sampled in fancy restaurants couldn’t compare to her food. “This is amazing, Ravena.”

  Her blush increased, though this time it was accompanied by a small smile. It was the first one he’d seen aimed at him in several days.

  “You...uh...have some pie...right there.” She touched a spot near her own lips to indicate where he needed to wipe his face. Tex swiped his hand across his mouth, but he knew he wasn’t successful, when Ravena chuckled. “I can get it, if you’d like...”

  Tex nodded for her to go ahead. Reaching out, she brushed her thumb against the corner of his mouth. The familiarity of her soft touch set his heart clanging inside his chest. He felt as weak as he had that first afternoon of plowing, and at the same time, he felt as if he could run to the top of the nearest hill and back without getting winded. The last time he’d felt this way was right before he’d asked Ravena to elope with him.

  “There, I got it,” she said, lowering her hand.

  The poignancy of the moment ended when Jacob declared he was finished. Tex had forgotten the boy was there at all.

  But as Tex nodded his thanks to Ravena and resumed eating, he couldn’t help thinking that perhaps there was another way to look at his remaining time here besides as a thing to be endured. Maybe he could let himself enjoy the time, just a little, too.

  * * *

  Ravena was grateful for the excuse to leave the table and wash Jacob’s plate. Her pulse still pattered rapidly after touching Tex’s face. She’d been pleased at his compliments about her pie and his evident surprise in her offering him the extra slice. She’d hoped to let him know, in a personal way, how grateful she was for his help. The planting was coming along and she had Tex—and the Lord—to thank for that.

  But what had compelled her to touch him? Her cheeks heated again, even as the water from the pump cooled her hands.

  From behind, she half listened to Jacob and Tex talking. The teenage boy was asking questions about what Tex had seen in his travels across Texas. She hadn’t known he had been there. How odd that he and Tate would wind up in the same state and not know it, though she knew Texas was quite large. Had Tex gone to see his mother’s family? Although, if Ravena remembered right, his relatives had already passed on by the time his mother had died.

  She turned to ask him, but she didn’t get the words out before a loud squeak filled the air. It was followed by a low groan.

  “What was that?” Jacob asked.

  Ravena lifted her shoulders in confusion. “I guess I’d better find out.” The other children were supposed to be readying themselves for bed.

  “Sounds like a goose in the throes of death,” Tex remarked as he stood and carried his plate to the sink. The apt description drew a full smile to Ravena’s lips.

  The awful sound started again, but this time Fanny’s unmistakable giggle accompanied it. Ravena followed the girl’s laughter down the hall to the stairs, where she found Fanny, Ginny and the boys seated on the steps in their nightgowns. “You are all supposed to be in bed,” she said half with exasperation and half with affection as she regarded them. Jacob and Tex came to a stop behind her.

  Mark held up a harmonica. “We found this in the parlor.” The awful racket of moments ago was no longer a mystery.

  Taking the instrument in hand, Ravena ran her fingers over the worn metal. She could almost hear an echo of the melodies her grandfather used to play. The harmonica reminded her of summer nights, sitting on the porch and listening to her grandfather play while she and her grandmother sang along. He hadn’t played much in the years before his death, and Ravena suddenly realized how much she’d missed his music.

  “I brought it down from the attic last week,” she explained, “when we went to find Jedediah’s hat. It was Mr. Ezra’s harmonica.”

  “Can you play it?” Mark asked, his expression hopeful.

  “No,” Ravena said with a laugh. “Anything I played sounded far less like music and more like a chorus of bullfrogs.”

  “Sort of like Mark’s music just now?” Jacob teased.

  “Hey.” The younger boy scowled. “It ain’t as easy to play as it looks.”

  “Isn’t as easy,” Ravena corrected. “And you are absolutely right, Mark. Playing the harmonica requires practice and skill. Like any instrument, one isn’t simply able to play it just because one wants to.”

  Shooting a smug look in Jacob’s direction, Mark stood. “Guess there’s nothin’ to do but go to bed then. Come on, Luke.” His little brother hopped up.

  “I can play,” Tex volunteered. Ravena had forgotten her grandfather had taught him. “At least I used to.”

  Fanny clasped her hands together and gazed adoringly at Tex. “Will you play somethin’ for us, Mr. Beckett? Please?”

  A smile nudged the corners of his mouth. “If it’s all right with Miss Ravena.”

  The rest of the children took up Fanny’s plea, but Ravena hesitated, knowing a musical performance would likely mean a later bedtime. It might be Sunday tomorrow, which meant no school, but they would still be attending church.

  A longing to hear the old instrument played again finally overrode her remaining reluctance. “All right.” She passed the harmonica to Tex. “But just a few songs.”

  Cheers erupted from the children. The four on the stairs clamored into the parlor and settled onto the rug. Jacob sat on the sofa, while Ravena chose one of the chairs. Putting the harmonica to his lips, Tex played a series of running notes.

  “Doesn’t sound much better than me,” Mark said, crossing his arms. The rest of them laughed.

>   A few moments later, Tex drew a jaunty tune from the instrument. Mark instantly brightened. Fanny and Luke began clapping their hands in time with the music and Ravena tapped her foot against the floor. It had been too long since they’d last had music in the house.

  When he concluded that number, Tex played two more lively songs, both of which Ravena recognized as ones her grandfather had known. A keen sense of missing him filled her head to toe, winding in and through the pleasure of the music.

  “This next one is a dancin’ number,” Tex announced. “So choose your partners.”

  If there hadn’t been music in a while, there hadn’t been dancing in ages. Ravena stood and claimed a reticent Mark as her dancing companion. Jacob took Fanny’s hands in his, and even Ginny linked arms with Luke. Each couple began do-si-doing around the room. The children’s laughter accompanied Tex’s song, and Ravena found herself smiling at the merriment. She swung Mark one direction, then the other, her eyes catching and holding Tex’s. His blue gaze sparked with enjoyment and reminded her of other days when anything and everything had felt possible for them.

  When the song ended, all five children collapsed onto the floor or the sofa. Their happy chatter attested to their delight—and the fact that they were no longer settled for bed.

  “Why don’t we have Mr. Beckett play a slow one this time?” she suggested.

  “Aw, Miss Ravena,” the brothers chorused, while Fanny emphatically shook her head.

  Ravena sat back in her chair. “A slow one please, Tex.”

  With a nod he began to play a soft, sweet melody. Fanny climbed onto Ravena’s lap and she placed her arms around the little girl, feeling a swell of gratitude and contentment. Jacob and the younger boys spread out on the rug, while Ginny rested her cheek beside Ravena’s knee.

  “Any requests?” Tex asked when he finished the languid song.

  Mark hollered out a few suggestions, all of which would surely rouse the children again.

  Ravena thought a moment. “How about ‘Amazing Grace’?” It had been her grandfather’s favorite.

  Tex nodded slowly. “If you’ll sing along.”