by Stacy Henrie
Her answering smile was as much a balm as her words. “Yes. We are never lost to the Lord. He loves and forgives us, like the father in the story, each and every time we err as long as we then choose to come back to Him.”
He wanted to believe it. But he couldn’t ask for forgiveness if he planned to make the same choices. And he did. He was in too deep to turn back now. The only life open to him was the one he’d already chosen. “Does it work that way with people too?”
Ravena’s expression fell. “You mean do they forgive us as easily as the Lord does?”
Tex nodded.
“Sometimes,” she said, though this time her tone held less conviction. “If we earnestly seek the Lord’s forgiveness, we’ll receive it, but that isn’t a guarantee others will forgive us too. They still have a choice.”
Her explanation made sense. He still had one more question to ask though. “Do you think the older brother forgave the younger one?”
Ravena appeared to ponder that. “I don’t know for certain, since the story doesn’t say. But I could see him eventually forgiving his younger brother, especially after seeing the example their father set. It might not have happened as quickly between the brothers, but I think it could have.”
Nodding, he unclasped his fingers and relaxed them. The earlier choke hold of uneasiness had loosened a bit while they’d talked.
“Were you thinking about you and Tate during the story?”
Among other things, he thought ruefully. “Yeah I suppose I was.”
“Do you think you two will ever forgive each other?”
Tex stiffened, his relief fleeing like a coyote for the hills. Why should he seek Tate’s forgiveness? He wasn’t the only one who’d hurled angry insults that night, though he knew he’d been wrong to knock Tate out and leave him there unconscious. All he’d wanted was for Tate to have his back, to support his decision to elope with Ravena. Instead his only living family member had accused him of being a thief.
A memory pushed through his anger. He’d accused Tate that night of being sweet on Ravena, of not being able to accept that she’d chosen Tex over him. The recollection made him cringe. He’d also taken their mother’s earrings without telling Tate, largely because Tex knew his brother wouldn’t approve.
So apparently there were things he needed to seek Tate’s forgiveness for. He shot a sideways glance at Ravena and felt another wave of guilt threatening him. There were things he needed to apologize for with her too. But could he do it, without revealing who and what he was now?
“I should’ve written,” he admitted in a voice not much louder than a whisper. “To let you know it wasn’t you, Ravena. You weren’t the reason I didn’t come back.”
He watched her swallow hard and her expression change from interest to pain. “What was the reason then?”
Staring down at his hands, Tex tried to think how to explain. “It was partly Tate,” he said after a long moment. “You see, I took something of his. Well, it was both of ours, really. And I was going to sell it...” He glanced up to see she was still listening. “That way you and I could travel around for a time before settling somewhere and getting our own place. But Tate discovered what I’d taken.”
Ravena crossed her arms, probably an unconscious gesture to protect herself. And Tex hated that she felt she needed to around him. “What did Tate do?”
“He told me you deserved better than a thief.”
“Oh, I see.” She stared down at the toes of her shoes peeking out from her dress hem. “Is that what you meant the other day, when you said I deserved better? Did you decide not to come back for me because you’d taken and sold that thing that belonged to you and Tate?”
Tex dipped his head in a nod. “I didn’t sell the keepsake, though, Ravena.” He needed her to know that, even if Tate still didn’t.
“Then you aren’t a thief.”
Her innocent remark speared straight through his chest, igniting a flame of remorse, until he could sit no longer. He climbed to his feet and paced a few steps away from the porch. What would Ravena think or say if she knew about all he’d stolen since?
“Is there something else?” she asked.
He whirled around, panic sluicing through him. “What do you mean?”
“You said it was partly because of Tate that you didn’t come back. What was the other part?”
The conversation was moving dangerously close to the truth about his current life. He needed to steer it back on course, while still giving her an honest answer. “I was stubborn, and for that I’m truly sorry, Ravena.”
Would she realize how much he meant it? He’d hurt her back then—now that he was here again, he could see that—and he wished he hadn’t been the cause of pain for her.
“Thank you, for telling me and for apologizing.” She stood, her arms still a shield against him. “I... I’ve forgiven you, Tex. For not coming back. I did so several years ago.”
She didn’t say anything more, but Tex understood the things she’d left unspoken. That forgiving him and trusting him were two very different things. They might even be friends now, but that was all.
“Good night, Tex.”
“’Night, Ravena.”
He watched her slip back inside as the earlier heaviness descended on him again. The only way he knew to escape it was to leave—to leave behind this place, the past and his mistakes.
As soon as he’d fulfilled his promise, he’d be gone.
* * *
Ravena bent to stretch the sore muscles of her back, her gaze jumping to where Tex and Jacob were working ahead of her. The planting was going well. In contrast, progress on the larger house hadn’t changed. She’d hoped to find someone to start working on it by now, but when she’d asked around at church on Sunday, there hadn’t been anyone interested in taking time away from their own farms to take on a building job for such low wages.
Someone would turn up, at least that’s what she kept telling herself. And in the meantime, her crops would all be planted soon. The realization brought a bittersweet feeling. Once the planting was finished, Tex would be leaving.
Her thoughts returned to their conversation on the porch two nights ago. Some of her long unanswered questions surrounding Tex had been resolved, and yet, she still felt restless. There were things she didn’t understand. Though she took comfort in knowing that she’d meant her words about forgiving him for not coming back. And she’d been more than a little shocked and grateful when he’d acknowledged the pain he’d caused with an apology.
Feeling thirsty, she walked to the edge of the field where she’d placed her canteen in the grass. She took a long swallow of water and recapped the canteen. As she went to set it back down, a familiar rattling noise made her freeze. There, coiled, in the grass lay a rattlesnake.
Terror sent icy shards racing through her body and made her heart thrash against her ribs. She couldn’t move, couldn’t call for help, out of fear of being bitten. It was exactly like the time she’d been a girl and came across a rattler in a field. Thankfully she hadn’t been alone then; her grandfather had been with her. But no one was beside her now.
Help, Lord. It was the only prayer she could manage. She kept her gaze fixed on the snake’s head, the rattle, rattle of its tail as loud as the roaring in her ears.
“Ravena?” she heard Tex call from across the field. She couldn’t answer. Her chest felt tight from her shallow breaths, but she didn’t dare drag in a gulp of air, worried the snake would hear and feel threatened.
Tex called to her again, but she ignored him. If she died from a snakebite, what would happen to the children? Who would care for them? Who would carry on her grandfather’s legacy?
Please, Lord, help me.
The rattler kept a steady beat, out of rhythm with the pounding of Ravena’s heart. Her fingers began to a
che where they gripped the canteen.
The canteen. She could use it as a weapon. But she would have to be accurate with her aim.
“Ravena? What’s going on?” Tex sounded closer. She’d have to hurry and act to keep him from startling the snake further.
She eyed the reptile’s head, then sucking in her breath, she dropped the canteen on the snake. Then she ran. She was scrambling so quickly to get away she didn’t realize her shoes had become entangled in her skirt until she was pitching forward. With a cry, she landed in a heap, her left foot caught beneath her.
Tex and Jacob were standing over her a moment later. “What happened?” Tex asked.
“Are you all right, Miss Ravena?”
She felt far from all right. “There was...a...a...” Her teeth began to chatter as the adrenaline ebbed and the pain in her ankle registered in her mind. Tears filled her eyes and Ravena was powerless to stop them.
After lifting her to a sitting position, Tex crouched in front of her. Jacob’s concerned expression mirrored his.
“It was a...” She couldn’t push the word from her mouth.
Tex’s blue eyes lit with sudden understanding. “Was it a snake?” His remembering one of her biggest fears brought her the tiniest comfort.
Ravena managed a nod in response, even as she shuddered. Things might have gone so differently had she not had the thought to drop the canteen.
“A rattler?” Tex kept his gaze locked with hers. “Did it bite you, Ravena?”
She shook her head and whispered, “No.” His relief was palpable. “I...I dropped my canteen on it.” She brushed at her cheeks, but the tears wouldn’t stop their course down her face. “Then I fell and my ankle...”
“Let’s get you back to the house.” He scooped her up in his arms. “Jacob,” he directed, “keep planting where we were working. I’ll be right back.”
With that he began carrying her away from the field. Over his shoulder, Ravena watched Jacob move to the other side of the field, away from the rattlesnake.
“I can get back on my own,” she said, feeling the need to protest his help. Or was it how nice she felt being in Tex’s arms that she was protesting? Either way, she was secretly grateful when he ignored her halfhearted objection. She didn’t think she could stand, let alone make her way slowly and painfully to the house.
Tex tossed her a look. “That was a real smart thing to do with the canteen.”
“Was it?” The words were half sob, half laugh. Her head felt too heavy to hold up, so she reluctantly leaned it onto Tex’s shoulder.
His jaw came to rest against her forehead in a tender gesture that both unnerved and comforted her. “That was fast-thinking, especially when I imagine you were terrified.”
“I was.” Another shiver ran through her. “But I think the idea to drop the canteen was an answer to prayer.”
She expected him to balk at that, but he simply nodded. When he reached the porch, Tex didn’t slow. Instead he carried her inside and into the parlor. There he set her gently on the sofa. Ravena was grateful the children were still at school. She felt in no condition to answer their questions.
“We probably ought to get a look at that ankle,” Tex said as he knelt before her.
Ravena agreed. But bending forward to unlace her boot proved harder in her present state than she’d anticipated.
Tex’s hand closed over hers. “Let me.”
Untying the laces, he worked them loose, then slid her foot from her shoe. Ravena pulled in a gasp between her teeth, as much at the throbbing in her foot as from the gentleness of his touch. An ache for what they’d once had filled her with longing and regret.
Pushing the past aside and steeling herself against the emotional and physical pain, she felt her ankle for any fractures. “I think it’s just sprained,” she declared with relief. But it was short-lived. She would need to be careful so her foot healed properly, and that meant doing less around the farm at a time when she couldn’t afford to hold back.
Fresh tears leaked from her eyes and she covered her face with her hands. Desperation like she hadn’t felt since her grandfather’s passing clogged her throat.
“Hey now,” Tex soothed. Cupping her head, he drew her forward onto his shoulder. Ravena willingly went. She was so tired of doing things on her own, of being the only adult. “It’s going to be okay. You were smart about the snake and it didn’t hurt you.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “But it could have.”
“Yes, though you aren’t that helpless, little girl you were the last time you encountered a rattler.” His hand ran the length of her hair, bringing reassurance. “Your grandfather was there to help you last time, but this time you helped yourself.” He cleared his throat as if embarrassed, then added, “Well, I suppose you’d say God aided you too.”
Ravena released a sigh and sat back. “It isn’t just the snake, Tex.” She glanced down at her hands. “How do I assist with the planting and do everything else when I need to rest my foot?”
Lifting his hand, he brought it to rest alongside her cheek. Her heart picked up its swift rhythm as it had earlier in the field. “Jacob and I will keep planting. You just try to stay off that foot.” He winked, prompting a quick smile from her, which was likely what he’d hoped for.
But her worries wouldn’t be silenced. “With just you and Jacob working, the planting is going to take longer. Likely longer than you’d planned to stay.”
“I said I’d stay until it was done.” He rose slowly to his feet, his blue eyes unusually serious. “And that’s what I’m going to do—whether it takes five more days or five weeks.”
She wanted to stand and throw her arms around him, but the resignation rolling off him tethered her to the sofa. He was committed to seeing the planting through, yes, and she was grateful for that, but she could see that he didn’t want to stay.
Had that been his other reason for not coming back for her? Tex had cited Tate’s false accusation and his own stubbornness, but maybe another reason was he hadn’t wanted to stay tethered to the farm anymore. She’d seen the glint of wanderlust in his eyes more than once since his arrival, just as she had the night he’d asked her to elope. Only then, she hadn’t recognized it for what it was.
“Thank you,” she voiced into the silence, “for carrying me to the house.”
Tex nodded. “You’re welcome. I’d better go help Jacob. Will you be all right here?”
“Go ahead.” She could limp to wherever she needed to inside the house. And what she needed right now was a little space. Because, as she watched Tex disappear out the door, she couldn’t help wishing once again that her hopes didn’t lie with a man who had no wish or reason to stay.
* * *
Tex strode away from the house, back toward the fields. A few extra days or a week to complete the planting, while Ravena rested her foot, wouldn’t make too much of a difference with his plans. At least that’s what he told himself. But he felt the familiar itch for freedom creep up his collar and he loosened his bandanna in a vain effort to squelch it.
Had Ravena pretended to sprain her ankle so that he’d stick around longer? Tex shook his head, feeling badly for even thinking such a thing. Ravena was no liar, and the fear and pain he’d seen in her big dark eyes just now hadn’t been imagined.
He’d felt confused in the field, watching her stand there frozen, then he’d felt alarmed. Especially when she’d bolted in his direction and had fallen. The pure terror of her expression when he reached her had told him what she hadn’t been able to put into words—she’d had an encounter with a snake.
Pushing up his hat, he brushed his sleeve over his forehead. The afternoon felt overly warm. Or maybe it was just his churning emotions.
Tex had initially felt relieved to learn the snake hadn’t bitten Ravena. That relief soon gave w
ay to compassion when she’d confessed her concerns over having a sprained ankle and what effect that would have on the planting and running the farm. In that moment, seeing a crack in her usual strength and determination, he’d felt determined himself to see the planting through, no matter how much longer it took. He couldn’t turn his back on her. If he did, this time would be worse than the last. Because unlike eight years ago, Ravena no longer had any other adult around to rely on. In that they were the same.
At the thought of Ravena being alone, just as he was, an unexplainable longing rose inside Tex—an image of what it could be if they were a family. She and he and all of these orphans. It wasn’t difficult to contemplate. All he had to do was think about how right and wonderful it had felt to hold her in his arms just now. To run his hand over her long, silky hair. To touch her tearstained cheek to comfort her, as if he had a right to.
Tex allowed himself a full minute to entertain the thought of being part of a real family with Ravena. Then he dug it up and tossed it out before it could take root inside him. She’d never marry an outlaw, and he couldn’t change what he was. He’d set himself on a road that he couldn’t simply walk away from. He had Quincy out there, looking for him, and he was a wanted man throughout most of the West. It wasn’t like he could just settle down and hope no one ever recognized him. Not when there was reward on his head.
“Besides,” he grumbled to himself, “I don’t want to be tied to one place forever.” Wasn’t that partly why he’d left in the first place?
But as he neared the field where he could see Jacob still hard at work, Tex felt suddenly tired. Tired of wrestling with the past. Tired of wrestling with himself and his conscience. And most of all, tired of wrestling with his growing attraction to Ravena and her life here.
* * *
Half walking, half hobbling, Ravena made her way to the field where she knew Tex and Jacob were working. Four days had passed since she’d sprained her ankle, but she couldn’t stay confined to the house any longer. She wanted to see for herself how the planting was going—and convince Tex that she was well enough to help. That’s why she’d prepared some of his favorite foods, including pie, for lunch.