by Stacy Henrie
Worse than that, he’d convinced Ravena to come away with him without telling her grandfather because Tex had been sure Ezra wouldn’t condone their actions. Would her grandfather have eventually given his consent to their marriage if Tex had stuck around? He closed his mind to the prospect. It didn’t matter anymore. He’d done what he’d done and he couldn’t undo it. But he could still try to make things up to Ravena—and in the process, maybe he could feel he’d made peace with Ezra too.
Determined, he located two sawhorses and propped the runner between them. He used a small saw to remove the broken parts of the runner, then went to work carving new dowels from some lumber he found behind the barn.
The smell of wood and shavings filled his nose as Tex worked, bringing a smile to his mouth. It had been far too long since he’d made or repaired something with his own two hands. Regret crept in, stealing some of his contentment.
He’d once envisioned living a life similar to Ezra Reid’s—a loving wife, a family, a home full of people and laughter. That had been his plan when he and Ravena talked of eloping. But first he wanted to see the world outside their valley home. So he’d taken his mother’s earrings, in the hopes of selling them to support him and Ravena as they travelled about the country. Eventually they’d settle down somewhere and he’d become a farmer or a carpenter. It didn’t matter what he did so long as it was in some distant place with Ravena.
No wonder Tate had accused him that night of being a thief. It wasn’t just in regards to taking their mother’s earrings. Tex had planned to steal Ravena away as well, from her grandfather and from her life here, and disappear like a thief in the night.
Tex had felt the truth of Tate’s words and it had burned him inside. He’d been tired of working so hard on a farm he couldn’t call his own, not completely. He’d been tired of living in Tate’s shadow too, of feeling like the rebellious, irresponsible twin just because he wasn’t as serious or because he only liked farming instead of loving it the way his brother did. And when Tate had threatened to ride over to the Reids’ and reveal Tex’s plan to Ezra, Tex had panicked. He’d knocked his twin out cold, jumped on his horse and rode as fast and as far as he could.
When Tex had finally stopped, it was full dark. He felt cold and tired, though no longer as angry. He turned the horse around, with every intention of going back, but fear suddenly gripped him. What would Ravena and Ezra think if they learned he’d taken his mother’s earrings from his own brother and knocked him unconscious? And if Tate had followed through on his threat, would Ezra forgive Tex for wanting to take away the man’s only living family member?
He’d asked himself that night why he wanted to slip away in the first place, without telling anyone. And he didn’t like the answer—that he’d been looking for the easy way out, like his father had always done. Ravena did deserve better. She deserved someone like Tate who was honest and responsible, who didn’t favor their father in temperament like Tex did. Maybe his leaving was more proof that he, like his father, wouldn’t ever change.
With those thoughts as his companions, Tex had pointed his horse south once more and kept riding, without looking back. If Tate thought him a thief, then the life of a thief was what he’d embrace. But he wouldn’t drag Ravena down with him.
Tex gulped in a breath of barn air and wood, desperate to end the parade of recollections through his mind. He’d made his choice, and it wasn’t honorable; still, he’d been successful, happy even. At least to some degree.
As he fitted the runner with the new dowels and put it back on the rocker, he couldn’t help comparing his life to the broken piece of furniture. It had looked purposeful, efficient and even nice until he’d taken the time to examine it up close.
Coming back here to Ravena’s was making him look at his life more closely than he had in years. And while he enjoyed the freedom and adventure of the outlaw life, it looked a bit lopsided, a bit broken, when compared to what she and the orphans had here.
“Enough,” he growled at himself, his voice echoing off the rafters and disturbing a pair of birds. He had half a mind to go to church with them next week, just so he wouldn’t have to face the solitude of his own thoughts.
He set the rocker on its runners and gave the seat a gentle push. The thing began rocking at once. Tex grinned—he’d fixed it. If nothing else, Ezra would surely be proud of him for that.
Carrying the rocker out of the barn, across the yard and to the porch, he set it down in its original spot. He considered pointing it out to Ravena the moment she and the children returned. But then he changed his mind. He’d hoped to surprise her earlier with the chores and hadn’t. So this would be his surprise instead.
His smile deepened when he imagined the look on her pretty face when she discovered the rocker had been mysteriously fixed. It would’ve been the type of thing he would have done had they married. The thought caused his smile to slip, but he forced it back into place.
Things were going well—the planting was coming along, Quincy hadn’t tracked him down yet, and he and Ravena were tentative friends again. He wouldn’t wish for anything more. It would only make things harder when it came time to leave.
* * *
“Children,” Ravena called up the stairs. “It’s time to read the Bible.” Her grandfather had started the Sunday evening tradition when she was a girl and she had kept it up after his passing.
“I suppose it’s time for me to move then,” Tex said from the parlor as he folded the newspaper he’d been reading and set it aside. He rose to his feet. “I think I’ll head outside for some air.”
She chastised herself for the pang of disappointment his words inspired. Why should he stay and listen? He hadn’t last Sunday and today he’d practically expired over Fanny’s invitation to attend church with them.
The rest of the day had been rather nice, though. Tex had gone out into the yard before supper to play a game of blindman’s bluff with the children, and even Ginny had participated. Ravena had caught him smiling secretively to himself more than once too. Not in an alarming way but in a way that reminded her of times past when Tex used to bring her little gifts or plan some adventure for them.
Maybe that’s it, she thought, her discontent changing to sorrow. Maybe he’s just planning his next adventure for after he leaves here.
Well, he had a right to do that. It wasn’t as if he had a real reason to stay or any permanent ties to the farm.
She put on a smile as the children came downstairs and arranged themselves on the parlor furniture. Picking up the Bible from off the side table, she took a seat on the sofa. “Now, does anyone remember—”
“Mr. Beckett?” Fanny called as Tex opened the screen door. “Aren’t you comin’ to Bible reading?”
He cut a look at Ravena and she found herself holding her breath, even as she knew she was being silly. It wasn’t as if his staying to listen to the Bible meant anything. But she couldn’t squelch the hope that Tex would accept Fanny’s invitation this time, though Ravena had no illusions that his faith was stronger than when he’d last been here. Quite the contrary.
“You know, I was just waitin’ for a pretty little girl to ask me,” Tex said, letting the screen fall shut as he walked back into the room. Ravena let her breath out in a puff of surprise. Fanny beamed as if she’d known all along that her solicitation would be accepted this time.
Tex settled onto the opposite end of the sofa and Fanny scrambled up beside him. Though four feet and one happy little girl separated them, Ravena felt suddenly aware of Tex’s presence. Like the way the lamplight revealed the bristles on his face that had grown back since his morning shave, or the way his warm blue eyes held hers just now and made her heart trip.
Clearing her throat, Ravena dipped her chin and opened the Bible to her bookmark. “Now, as I was saying, does anyone remember what story we read last week?”
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p; “Ohhhh.” Mark waved his arm about in the air, then blurted out an answer before Ravena could call on him. “It was about a lost sheep and a lost coin. Ain’t that right, Miss Ravena?”
She nodded, ignoring his grammar in light of his enthusiasm. “Yes, that’s right, Mark. Thank you. And tonight, we’ll be reading about the prodigal son.”
After reading a few verses, and seeing the younger boys’ eyes begin to glaze over, Ravena opted to tell the rest of the story in her own words. When she’d finished her retelling, she read the final verse of the parable from the Bible. “‘It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.’”
“Why did he have to eat with the pigs?” Luke asked when she shut the Bible.
Ravena bit back a laugh at the boy’s repulsed expression. “He didn’t have to—he chose to. And his earlier choices meant he had nothing to eat. We get to choose what we do with our lives, but like the younger son in the story, we don’t get to choose our consequences.”
“How come the older brother got mad?” Mark cocked his head, his brow furrowed in deep thought. “Didn’t he want to come to the party?”
“Well, he was upset because he’d stayed and done all that was asked of him by his father.” A tremor of regret rocked through Ravena as she listened to her own words. Like the older brother in the story, she’d stayed, but she might have made a very different choice if Tex had shown up that night. She reined her thoughts in to finish explaining. “He couldn’t understand why the younger brother would get a reward when he’d made foolish choices while the older brother had made wise choices and never got a party as a reward for them.”
Jacob lifted his arms and leaned his head back on his hands. “It does seem a little unfair that the younger one got a party.”
“Perhaps,” Ravena consented, “but we have to remember he didn’t have a home or a life free of guilt and remorse like his older brother did. He might have had his fun for a time, but he realized, in the end, that what he really wanted wasn’t what he had. It was everything he’d left behind.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Tex visibly wince. Was he comparing the story to his own life? She suddenly wondered how many parallels there were between he and Tate and these two brothers. “Anyway, the father recognized the humble change in his son and wanted him to know he was still welcomed back, no matter what his choices had been.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Jacob said. “He lost out on a lot of things that the older brother didn’t.”
Ravena smiled at the boy. “Yes, Jacob, that’s right. What about you, Fanny? What did you like about the story?”
The little girl leaned forward. “That there was music and dancing.”
Everyone but Tex laughed at that. “Ginny, anything you liked or had questions about?” Ravena asked. “Or maybe you can tell us why you think Jesus told the story.”
Ginny glanced down at her lap. “I think He wanted the people to know that no one is ever lost to Him, no matter what.”
Ravena sat back, both pleased and surprised at the depth to Ginny’s comment. “That is a beautiful way to put it.” The girl blushed, but the briefest of smiles tugged at her mouth. “And now, it’s bedtime.”
Mark led Luke in a squirming groan that ended with both of them wrestling on the floor. With a sigh, Ravena stood and gently pulled Luke to his feet. “Go on, now. Both of you.”
“I’ll beat you,” Mark called, scrambling up and dashing past his brother.
Luke rushed after him. “No, I’ll beat you.”
Jacob and Ginny rolled their eyes and followed at a plodding pace. Only Fanny remained.
“Come on, Fanny,” Ravena reminded. “You too.”
The little girl bobbed her head, then climbing to her knees, she pressed a kiss to Tex’s cheek. He looked startled, but Ravena wasn’t sure if it was from Fanny’s show of affection or from something he’d been mulling over. He recovered quickly though.
“Why thank you, little lady.” He pretended as if he were doffing his hat to her, which made Fanny giggle. “Now scoot along.”
She hopped down from the sofa and took Ravena’s hand. “’Night, Mr. Beckett. Thanks for coming to Bible reading.”
“’Night, Fanny.” The gentleness in his voice made Ravena wish, for a moment, that he was talking to her.
What would they do when he left? she wondered as she and Fanny climbed the stairs. The children were all enamored with him, and Jacob was already calling Tex by his first name. As for herself... She was beginning to see that Tex’s leaving wouldn’t be so different than the last time. He would leave a hole in all of their hearts that only he, and he alone, could ever fill.
Chapter Eight
Tex couldn’t escape the house fast enough once Ravena and Fanny headed upstairs. Did Ravena suspect the sort of life he’d led—and was still leading? Is that why she’d selected that Bible story? Or was it merely a coincidence?
Stepping out onto the porch, he sunk down on the step, much as he had that first day two weeks ago when he’d come here, wounded and sick. He ran a hand over his jaw and blew out a long breath. Try as he might, he couldn’t flee his own thoughts as easily as he could the claustrophobic feeling inside the house. His mind kept plowing down the same furrow.
It was unsettling how closely his and Tate’s lives matched that of the brothers in the story. Of course their father hadn’t stuck around and eventually neither had Tate, but there were enough similarities to leave Tex feeling uncomfortable. Thankfully the children had seemed too interested in the story and in Ravena’s answers to their questions to notice.
He was sure he’d heard the story of the prodigal son before, but he couldn’t recall what he’d thought of it back then. It likely hadn’t struck him with as much force as it had tonight. The life of the younger brother, according to Ravena’s retelling, sounded eerily familiar to him—the leaving of home in search of adventure, the finding of said adventure and the realization of how empty it could be. His only defense was that he hadn’t squandered any of his family’s money in the process, or really much of what he’d stolen as an outlaw. The bulk of what he’d taken during his bank and train heists was hidden in several locations, known only to himself.
But those facts still didn’t stop the story from eating at his conscience. Why had the wayward son been welcomed back by his father, after all the young man had done? Tex shifted on the hard planks of the porch, leaning his elbows on his knees. From behind, he heard the screen door squeak open. He glanced over his shoulder to find Ravena there.
“I was getting the younger boys a drink and saw that you were out here.”
He grunted in response, not sure whether he preferred her company or the companionship of his own thoughts.
Stepping to the opposite porch column, Ravena rested her shoulder against it and loosely folded her arms. “It’s a beautiful night,” she said, staring up at the starry sky.
Tex found himself staring at her rather than at the majesty of the sky above. Had he stuck around and they’d married, he could have climbed to his feet right now and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She would’ve rested her head on his shoulder and he would’ve thought how grateful he felt to be here, with her.
But he hadn’t stuck around. And instead of holding Ravena as his wife, he was alone and troubled as he compared his life to that of the Bible story he’d just heard.
“You haven’t said much tonight.” She twisted to look at him.
He shrugged, for once not caring that he didn’t appear easygoing or carefree. “Not much to say.”
“Fanny appreciated you joining us.” He heard her exhale a long breath before adding, “I thought it was nice to have you there too.”
Her admission surprised him, but Tex forced himself to harden his heart against he
r compassion. He wasn’t worthy of her. “Is that why you picked that story?” His accusing tone made him wince.
Ravena straightened away from the column. “Is that what you think?”
“Just answer the question, Ravena.”
Instead of firing back a harsh retort as he’d expected—wanted even, so he could justify his anger—she shook her head sadly. “I told that story because that’s the one we’re on. If you didn’t like it, you could’ve walked out.”
She was right and they both knew it.
“Which part did you find most troubling?” she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle.
Tex dug a groove into the dirt with his heel, stalling. He kept forgetting how well she knew him, even after all these years. “Why would I be troubled over a story?”
“Never mind.” She took a step toward the door. Tex didn’t dare peek at her expression. He didn’t want to see the disappointment there. “I won’t force you to talk, Tex. But I also don’t have to sit here and take your sullen mood. Good night.”
“Why’d he forgive him?” he blurted out, desperate to know and yet fearing the answer.
“What do you mean?”
Now that he’d asked it, there was no going back. He gripped his hands together and forced the words from his arid throat. “Why did the father forgive the younger son? He could’ve slammed the door in his face or made him be his servant like the kid thought he would. But he didn’t. Why?”
Lowering herself onto the opposite side of the porch step, Ravena faced his profile. “He forgave him because he loved his son. Because he saw that the young man had turned his back on his old life. That he chose humility and repentance and change instead. That’s why he forgave him.”
Tex considered her response. “And what about what Ginny said? Is that really the lesson in that story?”