Grant followed her gaze. He took her arm. “Wait,” he whispered. “Look at Ralph’s face. That’s not anger.”
The lined, weathered face was wet with tears. He shoved a book toward Buddy. “My son’s Bible.”
A gasp left Buddy’s throat. “I don’t know what to say, sir. I don’t feel right takin’ it from you.” And yet he eyed the book like a starving man staring at a venison steak.
Ralph took a deep, broken breath. “I asked why God spared you. And now I know.”
“Sir?” Buddy said, his own eyes filling with tears. He didn’t even bother to wipe them away as they ran down his face.
“Samuel had known Jesus all his life. He was ready to go. You weren’t. I still don’t know why God would take such a good son, but I know why He brought you here and why He didn’t let you die. It seems fittin’ you take Samuel’s Bible. That book was his pride and joy.” A sad, fond smile tipped the corners of his lips. “’Bout wore it out from readin’ it so much.”
Finally, Buddy reached out and took the Bible. He hugged it close. “I’ll treasure it, sir. I won’t let it out of my sight.”
“Treasure the words inside. They’ll teach you how to live.”
Awe filled Buddy’s face. “Honest?”
“Every word is inspired by God above. I believe that. Even if I forgot it myself for a little while.”
“Thank you, sir! Thank you.”
Ralph sniffed back a fresh onslaught of tears, cleared his throat, clapped Buddy on the shoulder, and then turned without a word. The travelers made an aisle for him.
Ginger lifted her gaze to Grant.
His eyes were on her, and he smiled. Reaching forward, he thumbed away tears she hadn’t known were there. Suddenly shy, she averted her gaze. There were still a lot of questions in her mind. Still things to confess. She knew she cared for Grant, but as she read in his eyes how much he cared for her, she couldn’t muster up the same kind of optimism plainly written on his face. On the contrary, she was plagued with uncertainty. Despite her new status in the family of God, there were still a lot of secrets between them.
How on earth could they ever move past such obstacles and be together? Sam had said with God all things were possible. But how could that be, with something as impossible as this? Ginger couldn’t bear for him to look at her that way. Not now. She gathered a short breath. “I have to go.”
He gave a little laugh of disbelief. “What do you mean?”
“Miss Sadie is waiting for the tent. I’ll be back in a few days.”
She left him staring after her, and she knew he was more than likely confused. But if he knew what she did, he’d understand. She’d have to tell him soon. She only hoped he didn’t hate her forever when he found out that it was her fault his beloved wife had died.
Grant stared after Ginger, shaking his head in disbelief at her abrupt exit. How could she live through such a momentous occasion and walk away as though nothing had happened? Not only that, but she had given him the first real indication that she might possibly share his feelings and might care for him. And she wanted to just leave?
Determination compelled him forward, and he was glad for all the well-wishers who slowed her flight. It gave him a chance to catch up to her before she’d gone more than a few feet.
“Ginger, wait.”
A ragged breath quivered through her body as she continued to walk. “Not now, Grant.”
“I can’t just let you go on back, as though nothing has happened.”
She shook her head, her eyes filled with…sadness? How could that be at a time like this? “I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as Miss Sadie says the men will make it. Then we’ll have to talk, but I can’t yet. Please understand.”
“I want to. I truly do. But those men don’t deserve your attention, Ginger. They’re outlaws, thieves. Murderers.”
She flinched. “You took care of Buddy when you had to have known he was part of the outlaws band that attacked us that day. I know you were pretending to give us the benefit of the doubt, but only a fool wouldn’t have figured it out. I imagine Blake’s going to kick us right out as soon as the cholera sickness is over, anyway.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But Buddy was different. Buddy’s just a boy. Those others are full grown men and they know exactly what they’re doing. And they don’t care who they hurt.”
“Some of them do, Grant,” she said with earnest appeal. “There’s a fellow named Yuley. He’s not much older than I am, but in his mind, he’s like Alfie Harrison. He and his brother Cal joined Web after their parents were killed in an Indian attack. Cal was shot and killed a few years ago, and Yuley stays because no one has the heart to kick him out. Most of the men are real good to him. And he doesn’t know any better. Doesn’t remember a different life. He holds the horses when the men do an inside job. But I don’t believe a jury would convict someone like Yuley. So, if for no other reason, I have to go back for him. When I left, he was sick and grieving his best friend, an old timer named Dale.”
As usual, when faced with Ginger’s tender side, Grant didn’t quite know what to say. They walked along in silence, Ginger leading the way back to her wagon.
Grant knew there was no changing her mind, but that didn’t quell the frustration he felt that she was leaving just when they were beginning something important. Or something worth trying, anyway.
She shimmied up to the wagon seat before he could help her. He stood staring up, knowing his eyes reflected the fullness of his heart. “Before you go, I want to tell you something. There’s a reason I don’t care for outlaws.”
She gave a short laugh. “Only one? There’s not much to like about them in general, is there?”
He reached up and placed his hand over hers, though she held tightly to the reins. “I have more than a general reason. My reasons are personal.”
Ginger’s throat moved up and down as she swallowed hard. “I know, Grant.”
“No. You couldn’t possibly. Something terrible happened to me a few years back.”
“Seven years. Next month, it will be seven years.” She stared down at him, hard. “Listen to me,” she said, never allowing her gaze to leave his. She spoke slowly, intently, as though attempting to reach out to his very soul. “Your wife was killed during an outlaw attack. It happened in Missouri while you were traveling by stagecoach. She was shot through the window. It was an accident. Still, she was dead, even before you carried her out of the coach and laid her on the ground.”
A tingle moved up and down Grant’s spine as her words played the scene over in his mind with vivid reality. But… he opened his mouth to speak, but words were impossible. His brain sought answers. Some sort of logic. He was an educated man, after all. Why couldn’t he make sense of how…? Then he remembered the young girl, crying over her brother only a few feet from him that day. One long braid. He heard himself expel a poof of air, as though he’d been punched in the gut. Horror plunged into his chest like a spear.
Ginger pulled her hands away from his, leaving his palm exposed to the cold air. “I’m sorry, Grant,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “I’m so sorry. Please, just let me go now.”
Flapping the reins, she nudged the oxen on. Grant could easily have caught up with her, but his feet remained planted where he stood, his legs paralyzed. How could he have been so blind? So stupid? There was no doubt that Web’s gang of outlaws had been the ones that killed Sarah, but even faced with this horrifying reality, he couldn’t muster anger. Or any emotion, really. All he felt was numb.
He paid little attention to the commotion going on at the front of the wagon train as he staggered like a drunkard back to his tent. Whatever it was, they’d have to face it without him. He simply had no more to give.
Fourteen
Ginger almost didn’t recognize the outlaw camp as she pulled the reins and halted the oxen. The stench and clutter from a few days ago were gone, and instead, there seemed to be a sense of order. She grinned to herself, imagin
ing Miss Sadie organizing the cleanup effort and demanding help from anyone able to stand on his feet.
Miss Sadie straightened up from her place bent over the fire and headed toward the wagon. Her face nearly melted in relief to see Ginger back. “Thought you’d taken down with cholera, gal. According your pa, you were so sick, the doc had to carry you to your tent. You got well might-fast. Not that I’m complaining.” She grinned, but it was a tired smile. Ginger noted the shadows ringing her eyes. Now that she was back, Miss Sadie could rest a little.
“Grant says it was just a weak stomach and exhaustion.” She gave a sheepish grin. “Too many smells all mixing together at once. I couldn’t help it.”
Miss Sadie chuckled and followed her to the back of the wagon. “Well, you’re not the first person to lose a meal that way.”
“I guess.” Ready to put the entire incident behind her, Ginger looked past Miss Sadie. The camp seemed deserted. “Where’s Yuley?”
“Off yonder, attending to the wood.”
Ginger lowered the tailboard and turned to Miss Sadie. She leaned against the wagon and gave her full attention. “Thank goodness he’s pulled through.”
“Yep. God looks out for those that can’t look out for themselves.”
“How about Mr. Harrison and Web?” She gave a short laugh. “I didn’t figure Web would be much help, but I thought for sure Mr. Harrison would be working up a storm like he does around our camp.”
“Who do you think cleaned up the bulk of the mess around here and set fire to the burn pile?”
Ginger gave a shrug. “I don’t know. Yuley?”
“Honey, no matter how sweet Yuley is, I wouldn’t hand him a flint. He’d be likely to burn down the whole camp and every tree for a mile in every direction.”
“Well, then, where are Web and Mr. Harrison?”
Jerking her thumb toward the tent, Miss Sadie’s eyes grew somber and she shook her head. “Charles came down with it this morning. I thought he looked a little peaked yesterday, but you never can tell for sure with a man that’s not your own.”
Dread bubbled in Ginger’s stomach and weakened her knees. “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “Poor Mr. Harrison.”
“Poor Amanda Kane,” Miss Sadie said with another shake of her gray head. “Charles told me they’re planning to get married at Fort Boise. His main concern is that she might return to the laudanum if he doesn’t pull through. She’s lost so much in the last few months. Her share of sorrow. Almost more than her share.” She paused, then scrutinized her. “You haven’t asked about Web.”
“What about him?” She frowned. “He doesn’t have cholera too, does he?”
“Web’s ailing, but not from cholera.”
Relieved that he wasn’t suffering the deadly disease, Ginger couldn’t hold back the short sarcastic laugh. “Then what’s he ailing from? Too much liquor and not enough sleep?”
A scowl pinched Miss Sadie’s face. “You could use a little more respect when you talk about your pa, you know.”
Again, Ginger couldn’t keep a straight face. “If I had any for him, I might use it,” she retorted. “Too bad I’m fresh out.” She lowered the tailboard on the wagon and started pulling on Miss Sadie’s tent. “Don’t worry about Web. Just let him sleep it off, and he’ll wake up ready to drink some more. Hide his bottle, or you won’t get a lick of work out of him.”
“It might interest you to know that he wasn’t drinking. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of a bottle of anything. It’s a lot more serious than that.”
Something in the sound of her voice made Ginger stop and pay attention. “Well, what is it then?”
“I’m not a doctor, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s suffering from a wasting disease. He’s all the time doubled over and favoring his right side.”
Ginger frowned, remembering. In her mind’s eye, she could picture Web bending over and pressing his hand to his side, sweat beading his brow as he fought the pain. She nodded. “He gets sick from time to time, doesn’t he? I’d forgotten.” She squinted at Miss Sadie as she realized how sober the old woman was. “Is he dying?”
“I’ve seen this type of illness before, and the poor person hardly ever makes it. Sometimes they might last a good while…months, maybe, but after a time, they pass on.”
Stunned, Ginger wasn’t sure what to say. A world without Web? Granted, he didn’t contribute much of anything. At least not enough to balance out the things he took, but still…
Miss Sadie gathered up the tent stakes. She stood with her arms full and sought Ginger’s gaze. “You know what worries me the most?”
Trying to come to grips with her own feelings about Web’s illness, Ginger shook her head.
“If that man breathes his last breath with his soul as black as tar, he’ll burn sure as that fire over there.”
“Burn?” Alarmed, Ginger’s gaze shot to the burn pile at the edge of camp. Then she realized it was a spiritual matter. “Oh, you mean in hell?” The situation was hopeless. Web would never give up his wicked ways. “Oh, Miss Sadie. Web’s been thieving and lying practically all his life. How’s he going to give it all up in time to make it to heaven when he passes on? It’ll take him a hundred years to make up for all the wrong he’s done.”
“He could never make up it.”
“Well, then I guess there’s no point in telling him what to expect when he dies.” Ginger shook her head, truly sorry for Web. “I wish he’d changed his ways when he was young like I did.”
Surprise lit Miss Sadie’s eyes. “What are you saying?”
For some reason, Ginger felt shy about sharing her new life with Miss Sadie. She wasn’t ashamed. Not by a long shot. Only, it was still new, and she felt like keeping it between her and God for a while. But now that she’d opened her trap and made Miss Sadie curious, she didn’t really have a choice. She ducked her head and averted her gaze. “This morning, I went up where Sam was holding the service.”
Miss Sadie expelled a breath. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Land sakes, are you telling me you went to the altar and prayed for forgiveness today?”
“Yes. Buddy did, too.”
Miss Sadie shook her head. “Well, if that doesn’t beat all. I’ve pretty nearly worn my knees out praying for your soul, and God goes and draws you on a day I can’t witness the blessed event.” She gave a little huff. “How do you feel? Different?”
“Yes. And the same in a lot of ways.”
“You’re not the same. Not even a little. When Jesus comes, He makes you over. You’re like a newborn baby without one little sin. Well, maybe except the crack about your pa and the whiskey earlier. You need to show more respect. The Bible says so. Even a pa like the one you have deserves the honor that comes from being a parent in the first place.”
“You’re making that up.” Ginger couldn’t even imagine. Didn’t God know Web? How was she supposed to respect a liar and a thief? A man that dragged his children along while he robbed trains and stagecoaches and banks? Surely Miss Sadie was mistaken. “How could the Bible say I have to respect Web?”
“Well, it doesn’t exactly mention Web by name, but it says to honor your parents so that you don’t die before your time. And if you do, things will go all right for you in your life.”
Ginger released a sigh. “I don’t know anything about God. How does a person ever really know Him?”
“You’ll learn. I’ll teach you as much as I can, but mostly it comes from reading your Bible and praying. We learn God’s character as we see His word come true in our lives.”
“Like what?” Ginger had thought the Bible held a lot of rules. But the way Miss Sadie spoke, her voice soft and loving, made Ginger wish she owned a Bible herself.
“For instance, the Bible says when a person is in Christ, he’s a new creature, old things are passed away, like we just said, and all things are new.” She demanded Ginger’s gaze with her own. “How do you feel different since you asked forgiveness and made the d
ecision to become one of God’s family?”
A slow smile spread across Ginger’s face. “I guess like you were sayin’, I feel new. Like a different person.”
“There you go. You’ve just come face-to-face with the heart of God. If His Word says it, you can believe it. Even if you didn’t feel it, it would still be true.”
The very thought made Ginger go warm all over. She’d never really known anyone that always kept his word. Even Clem had gone and died, instead of taking her and Buddy out west. Life so far had been full of disappointments. But, like a flint, something inside of Ginger sparked hope. And that hope had just grown into the smallest flicker of flame.
“The first thing I’m going to help you study is the grace of God,” Miss Sadie said with a smile. “You need to understand that you can’t ever make up for sins. Not with God. All you can do is repent and accept His forgiveness and believe that He won’t remember them.”
“How can God not remember? If He’s God, He knows it all.”
“He forgets because he chooses to. Right in the Bible, He says he blots out our sins for His own sake and doesn’t remember them. It’s the same as when you rub a bar of lye soap across a pair of old trousers and scrub until whatever it is you’ve gotten into comes off. It’s gone. And by the time you put those trousers on again, you don’t even remember the stain.”
While Ginger tried to wrap her mind around this new concept, she remembered something Miss Sadie had said about Web. “That’s what you mean when you said Web couldn’t make up for his wickedness, either.”
“No one can. Not the most blessed saintly woman or the blackest heart on earth.”
“Maybe so with normal folks. But Web’ll never give God a chance like I did.”
“Once upon a time, there were folks who said the same thing about you, my dear.”
Heat crept to Ginger’s face. She cleared her throat. “Where do you want the tent?”
Miss Sadie pointed to a flat spot not far from the men’s tent. “Over there.”
“You sure? That seems a little close to be proper.”
Dangerous Heart Page 15