by Al Lacy
At the same time the Talberts and Donna were heading toward the parking lot at the depot, desk clerk Melvin Kappel at the Wild Horse Hotel looked up to see the outlaw who had been rooming with Shad Gatlin come into the lobby from outside.
As Bart Caddo moved toward the staircase, Kappel said, “Mr. Caddo?”
The outlaw stopped and looked at the clerk. “Yeah?”
Kappel motioned with his fingers. “I need to tell you something.”
Caddo, who was meaner-looking than Gatlin, moved up to the counter.
“What is it?”
Keeping his voice low, Kappel told Caddo about El Paso County Sheriff Clay Bostin having come into the hotel looking for Gatlin, and that he heard from people who came into the hotel that Bostin had captured Gatlin.
Caddo stiffened, his eyes flaring. “So he’s takin’ him back to be hanged, huh?”
“Yes, sir. Bostin is gonna take him to Colorado Springs on the train that’s at the depot right now. It’s leaving in about twenty minutes.”
Caddo exposed his gritty, yellow teeth in a wide grin as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar gold piece. “Thanks for the information.”
Kappel started to reply, but Caddo turned, dashed toward the door, and bolted through it.
As the outlaw hurried toward the depot on foot—already having put his horse in a nearby stable—he thought of how surprised he was to run into his old friend Shad Gatlin there in Wild Horse. He had read in a newspaper a few days previously that Shad was to be hanged at the Territorial Prison on April 6.
Caddo set his jaw. “Hang on, Shad. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that lawman from takin’ you back to hang.”
Ken and Donna Talbert were driving out of the depot parking lot as Sheriff Clay Bostin and his prisoner were crossing the street from the jail toward the terminal building.
Gatlin’s hands were cuffed behind his back as before. He looked at Bostin narrowly. “How come I gotta have my hands cuffed behind me? It’s uncomfortable.”
Bostin set cold eyes on him. “Oh, isn’t that too bad? I’d like to put a lot more discomfort on you for what you did to my deputy, his wife, and their little four-year-old boy, but this badge on my chest keeps me from doing it.”
Gatlin spit on the street. “They had it comin’ because of what Art Flynn did to me.”
Bostin shook his head. “I’ll never understand the criminal mind. Deputy Flynn was only doing his job as a lawman when he arrested you. You’re a low-down, heartless murderer, Gatlin. You deserve to hang.”
They were nearing the door of the terminal.
Gatlin mumbled, “It’s a long way to Colorado Springs.”
“Yeah, but I’ll get you there. You can count on it.”
The outlaw gave him a dirty look and a hateful sneer.
When they moved inside the terminal, Marshal Walt Crawshaw was there. “Sheriff, the cattle car has been coupled to the train just ahead of the caboose, and the horses are aboard.”
Bostin grinned. “Thank you.”
Crawshaw reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a pair of railroad tickets, wrapped in some currency. “And here are your tickets and your change.”
The sheriff took them from Crawshaw and thanked him again, then the marshal said, “I’ll walk you to the train. They’re boarding now.”
Bostin nodded, and neither lawman noticed as they moved to the spot where the train stood that Gatlin was running his eyes back and forth, trying to catch sight of Bart Caddo.
The sheriff glanced at the two orphan coaches and saw the children climbing aboard. His pulse quickened its pace. Lord, is the child You have for Mary and me among them?
The marshal’s voice intruded into Bostin’s thoughts. “Sheriff, the conductor said he’d like for you and your prisoner to ride in the coach just behind the coal car. He’s saving a seat for you.”
“All right.”
As they headed toward the designated coach, Gatlin’s eyes were still running back and forth in search of his old friend.
The conductor was just coming out of the front coach. He stepped off the elevated platform of the coach. “Sheriff Bostin, I’m Harvey Wilkins. I guess Marshal Crawshaw told you I was saving a seat for you and—and your prisoner in this car.”
“Yes.”
“I just wanted to make sure I had a seat for two set aside.”
“I appreciate that, sir,” said Bostin.
Crawshaw extended his right hand. “Glad to have met you, Sheriff.”
Bostin gripped his hand. “You too, Marshal. And thanks again for your help.”
“My pleasure, Sheriff.”
Bostin nudged his prisoner forward. “Let’s go.”
The conductor led them into the coach and pointed out a seat midway down the aisle. Passengers were staring at the handcuffed man as the man who wore the badge gestured for him to sit next to the window.
Gatlin scowled at Bostin as he sat down and scooted next to the window. “Can’t you see how uncomfortable I am with my hands cuffed behind me?”
Bostin sat down. “Aw, poor boy. He’s uncomfortable. Let me tell you something, Shad. I’m not the least bit concerned about your comfort. It’s bad enough that you shot Art Flynn and his wife, but you were so cold-blooded that you even shot that little four-year-old boy. I’ll do my best to make you as uncomfortable as possible.”
“The Flynn kid wasn’t the first kid I’ve killed. I’ll kill anybody who gets in the way, resists me, or is related to somebody who does.”
“You won’t be killing anybody else,” Bostin said icily. “Your killing days are over.”
At that instant, a man stepped into the coach at the front door.
Gatlin saw who it was. He chuckled. “We’ll see, Sheriff.”
As Bart Caddo headed down the aisle, searching for a place to sit, he grinned at Gatlin. The killer grinned back, but Bostin was adjusting his position on the seat and did not see it.
Bostin looked at his prisoner. “Yeah. We’ll see. You’ll have to come back from the grave to do it.”
Gatlin’s eyes showed nothing but loathing for Bostin. The grin he gave him was filled with malice.
Moments later, the train pulled out of Wild Horse and headed for Colorado Springs.
Passengers around the sheriff and his prisoner were talking about the children in the two coaches just ahead of the caboose, saying this was one of those orphan trains they had heard about.
Shad Gatlin made as if he was trying to get more comfortable in order to sneak a glance toward the rear of the coach to locate Bart Caddo. His friend was seated two rows ahead of the rear door. Caddo nodded and grinned.
Gatlin slouched down on the seat and closed his eyes, telling himself everything was going to be all right.
As the Talbert buckboard rolled southward on the bumpy road, Donna Mitchell rode between Ken and Molly. Her eyes were taking in the vast open farms and ranches around them. Before coming west, she had never seen horses and cattle in pastures.
When they drew up at the gate of the K-Bar-M Ranch, Donna marveled at the fancy sign that was attached to thick posts overhead. Metal letters spelled out the name of the ranch and the sign was decorated with old horseshoes, giving it a true western flavor.
As Ken drove the buckboard down the tree-lined lane, the house came into view, with the barn and outbuildings in the background.
Donna was amazed at both the size and the beauty of the place. “How many acres do you have, Mr. Talbert?”
“Two hundred and fifty.”
“That’s a lot of land. It sure is nice.”
“Thank you.”
“And you have lots of cattle in your pastures, I see.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Donna then concentrated on the large yellow two-story house. “Oh my! What a lovely house!”
“I’m glad you like it, honey,” said Molly. “You’ll like the inside too.”
The Talberts smiled at each other. They were pleased to see Donna so
enthusiastic about her new home.
Ken pulled rein at the front porch and helped both ladies out of the buckboard. When they entered the house, Donna was even more enthusiastic. “Oh-h-h! I’ve never seen anything so full of light and so polished! Everything gleams in the sunlight coming through those wonderful big windows!”
Molly smiled at her. “Would you like to see your room now, or after we show you the rest of the house?”
“I’d like to see my room right now!”
Ken was carrying Donna’s cloth bag. “Ladies first.” He nodded toward the staircase.
Molly took hold of Donna’s hand and led her up the stairs. Ken followed.
They topped the stairs and moved down the hall. When Molly led Donna to a room on the east side of the hall where the door stood open, she stopped. “Here it is.”
Donna stepped in first, her eyes taking in the bright, colorful room. She had never seen a bedroom so large. White and green ivy wallpaper covered the walls and a ruffled bedspread of the same colors covered a four-poster cherry double bed. A white chiffonier with numerous drawers and a large mirror on the wall above it stood against the wall between the room’s two large windows. A cherry dresser with attached mirror stood opposite the bed, and Donna told herself her few garments would have plenty of room in that piece of furniture. A small rolltop desk with a swivel chair completed the room’s furniture. The gleaming oak floor had several colorful braided rugs scattered randomly.
The sight of it all took Donna’s breath away. Looking at Ken and Molly with tears in her eyes, she said, “Mr. and Mrs. Talbert! All of this is for me?”
Molly hugged her. “Yes, it is, daughter. From now until some fortunate young man comes along, steals your heart, and asks you to marry him.”
Donna grinned mischievously. “I’m not sure I’d even let a suitor take me away from here.”
“Oh, when the right one comes along and you fall head-over-heels in love with him, you’ll be happy to follow him to the ends of the world.” She looked at her husband. “And believe me, Donna, I know what I’m talking about.”
“Okay, Mrs. Talbert, I’ll take your word for it.”
Ken took a step closer to the ladies. “Donna, now that you’re our foster daughter, we’d like you to call us Mom and Dad, or Mama and Papa, or something like that.”
“I’d love to. How about Mama and Papa?”
“Yes!” said Molly.
“Sounds great to me.”
Donna hugged them both at the same time. “Thank you, Mama and Papa, for bringing me into your family. I’m so happy here.”
The expression on the Talberts’ faces displayed how pleased they were to hear these words from Donna. A special joy filled their hearts where up till that day, an emptiness lay.
Ken spoke to the Lord in his heart. Thank You, Father, for giving us this precious girl.
Donna drew a deep breath and looked the room over again. “I just love it! In New York I had to share a tiny bedroom with all my sisters. I can’t imagine what it will be like to have so much room and real privacy.”
“You just enjoy it, honey,” said Ken. “Well, I’ll leave you ladies to yourselves, and Molly, you can give our daughter the tour of the rest of the house. I’ve got some work to do at the barn.”
“All right, darling,” said Molly. “Just come in at the regular time for supper. We’ll have it ready.”
“It’s a deal!” And with that, Ken went out the door.
“Okay, sweet girl. Let’s put your things away.” Molly made a mental note of the items of clothing Donna would need, and told herself she would take care of the matter the next time they went to town.
When the clothes were hung in the closet, Donna went to one of the windows, and pulled back the lace curtains. “Oh, Mama, I’m looking forward to all the sunrises I’ll see in the mornings from these windows.”
Molly smiled. “You’ll enjoy them all, honey.”
“I’m sure I will.” Donna let her eyes roam the room once more. “This room is definitely decorated for a girl. You and Papa must have been planning on choosing a girl before you ever got to the depot.”
“That is exactly the case. After much prayer on the matter, we were positive that the Lord wanted us to choose a teenage girl from the orphan train. For both of us, all it took was one look at you as you were standing there talking to that nurse.”
“Really?”
“Really. As I told you, we agreed instantly that if you proved to be as polite and charming as you looked and you wanted to come home with us that you were God’s choice for us.”
Donna’s eyes widened. “God’s choice?”
“Yes.”
“And you said after much prayer, you were positive the Lord wanted you to choose a teenage girl?”
“That’s right.”
Donna shook her head. “I’ve never heard anyone talk like that before, Mama. I thought people only prayed when they were in trouble or in danger of some kind.”
Molly took her into her arms, kissed her cheek, then held her at arm’s length. “This is not so, sweetie. You, yourself, are an answer to prayer.”
Amazed at that statement, all Donna could do was smile.
Molly took hold of Donna’s hand. “Well, let’s take that tour so you can see the rest of the house.”
As they left the room and started down the hall, Donna wondered if her twin had a nice place like this for her home.
Chapter Ten
That evening, the lowering sun peeped under the back porch roof and painted the kitchen walls with gold bars, slowly changing to red.
The room was alive with wonderful aromas while Donna Mitchell stood beside her new mother at the stove and stirred the beef stew in its pot as she had been instructed. While Molly was taking hot bread from the oven, Donna said, “Thank you for letting me help with supper, Mama. As I told you, I really don’t know much about cooking because even though Deena and I did it for our mother when she wasn’t able, the meals were simple and skimpy. But I’m sure willing to learn so I can be of as much help to you as possible.”
Molly set the hot bread pan on the cupboard and smiled. “I will love having a daughter that I can teach to cook, honey. I’ll teach you how to sew too, so one day you can make a pleasant home for that fortunate young man we talked about and for the children who come along as time passes.”
Donna nodded and wiped a hand on the apron that Molly had tied on her earlier. She glanced back at the table, letting her eyes take in the place settings that she had done; of course, only after being instructed by her new mother. Molly had found out the Mitchells were so poor that they only had the bare necessities when it came to eating utensils and dishes. Donna and her twin had never learned how to properly set a table.
While Molly and her new daughter were dishing up the stew and other items from the stove, they were chatting and laughing together. They were so engrossed in each other that they failed to notice that Ken had come in from the barn and was standing just inside the door, a wide grin creasing his face. “Sure smells good in here, ladies.”
Donna stopped in the middle of a sentence, and both of them turned and looked at Ken.
Molly smiled at him. “So you like what you smell, eh?”
“Sure do!”
“Well, get washed up and you’ll like how it tastes even better. Our daughter really helped me, and it’s going to be extra good!”
Ken’s eyebrows arched. “So she’s a good cook, huh?”
“Excellent cook. She’s promised to teach me all she knows.”
Donna looked at Molly with a slight frown and a jovial look in her eyes.
Molly laughed and kissed her cheek. “Let’s get the rest of this on the table while Papa washes up, sweetheart.”
Ken picked up on Molly’s humor, laughed, and headed for the washbasin.
Moments later, when the three of them sat down at the table, Ken said, “Let’s pray.”
As Ken and Molly started to bow their heads, t
hey both noticed the strange look that came over Donna’s pretty face.
Ken said, “Is this something you aren’t used to, Donna?”
“Ah … I’ve heard about people who pray before they eat, Papa, but we never did it at our house.”
“I see. Well, honey, because it is the Lord in heaven who provides our food for us, we always stop to thank Him before we eat. In the Bible, Jesus taught us by example that it’s the right thing to do.”
At first there was a blank look on Donna’s face, then it vanished as she smiled. “I think it’s good to do that.”
Ken led in prayer, then they began eating. “Donna, your new Mama and I are born-again Christians. We attend a Bible-believing church in Wild Horse regularly.”
“Does your family go to church in Manhattan?” Molly asked.
“No, ma’am. The only time I was ever inside a church was for a funeral when one of my father’s friends died. I’ll look forward to going to church with you.”
The Talberts exchanged glances and smiled at each other.
As they continued eating, Donna said, “I’ve heard about people being born again, but I don’t understand what that means.”
Ken grinned. “Well, tell you what, honey. We’ll show you all about it in the Bible.”
“Okay.”
After supper, Molly and Donna did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen together, then joined Ken in the parlor. They found him reading a sermon in Charles Spurgeon’s 1856 edition of the New Park Street Pulpit.
Molly stood over him. “So what’s Mr. Spurgeon preaching to you about, honey?”
“It’s really a good one. The sermon is called, ‘The Beatific Vision.’ It’s taken from 1 John 3:2, where it speaks of Jesus and says, ‘We shall see him as he is.’ On this particular page, he is preaching about the awesomeness we are going to feel when we see our precious Saviour on His throne.”
Molly nodded. “Oh yes! Awesomeness that can’t even be described with mortal tongue.”
“For sure,” said Ken, closing the book and laying it aside.
Donna noticed three Bibles lying on the small table at one end of the sofa. Molly picked one up and handed it to her. “This is for you, honey. We bought this Bible last week for the girl the Lord was going to send into our home.”