A Love to Have and to Hold

by Linda Ford

  “Howdy, stranger. You’d be the young man who brought the preacher in. I’m Norm White, owner of this establishment. Call me Norm. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Norm stuck out his hand and shook Walker’s enthusiastically.

  Walker could see that there were no secrets in Glory, and news traveled fast.

  “What can I do for you?” Norm asked, his gaze searching Walker, measuring him. He must have been satisfied, for he leaned back and waited for Walker to answer.

  “I need clothes, but I have no money.”

  “Not a problem. It’s on the house for your part in rescuing the preacher.”

  Walker protested, but to no avail. In the end he stood before a pile of things—new shirt, new pants, socks, and even a new hat.

  “If I could borrow a pencil and some paper, I need to write a letter.”

  Norm provided everything he needed.

  Walker printed a letter to his uncle, informing him of his whereabouts and asking for directions to where he lived. My mother asked that I speak to you. There wasn’t much else to say to the man who had ridden out of his life without explanation and left Walker’s family badly bruised.

  He pasted the letter shut. If Uncle Paul was in the vicinity of Bella Creek, he should receive the message. Otherwise… Walker knew he would have to keep looking in order to keep his promise to his ma.

  Norm glued on a stamp.

  Walker stepped outside, the brown-paper-wrapped bundle under his arm. The others were still standing in front of the store speaking to those who hurried over to ask them about the preacher.

  Cole turned at his approach. “Good news. The sheriff has apprehended a man who fits the description you gave. Let’s go on over to the jail, and if you identify him…well.” Cole shrugged. They all knew the penalty for a horse thief.

  They crossed to the jail. Walker recognized the man and told the sheriff about the scar on the back of his hand.

  “That’s good enough for me.” The sheriff had him sign a statement, then Walker stepped back into the sunlight with a sigh of relief.

  The others waited outside.

  A young boy of about ten raced toward them.

  “Reese, it’s you. Ain’t seen you in a long time.”

  “Almost two weeks, isn’t it? Yup. Guess that’s a long time.” Reese introduced Jimmy. “He helped me when I was working in town.”

  Jimmy’s chest expanded visibly. “Now I work at the livery stable for Mickey. He says I don’t have to call him Pa even though he married my ma.”

  They stopped at Sylvie’s diner, and a robust woman hurried out to greet them.

  Walker thought she seemed especially fond of Reese, although she talked like the man was a royal nuisance.

  They visited the livery stable.

  Walker glanced toward the church. Or more correctly, toward the manse, wanting to return and assure himself all was well. He must have glanced too often, because Kade patted Walker’s back and chuckled. “Anxious to get back and check on that little gal?”

  “I was wondering about Jacob.”

  The others chuckled. “Of course, that’s all there is to it.” But they headed back to the church.

  The girls and their husbands insisted their ma rest after supper and took turns staying with their father for several hours. But Mrs. Kinsley chased them away as it drew near bedtime.

  “I’m going to sleep beside him. I’ll know if he needs anything.”

  Jacob smiled. “You’re all I need.”

  At that the others left the room so the older couple could be alone.

  The married couples drifted off in pairs. Walker imagined they wanted time to talk about things in private. Stella had taken her children to bed. He didn’t know where Josie had gone, but she was nowhere to be seen.

  “Come and keep me company.” Mr. Bates waved Walker over.

  Glad of something to do, Walker sat beside the man, his back to the rough wood of the addition.

  “You remind me of myself,” the older man began.

  “You were a homeless cowboy?”

  Bates’s laugh was deep and full. “Maybe so, but that isn’t what I meant. You see, I was a man running from my memories.”

  “How is that like me?”

  Bates looked toward the horizon. “I recognize in you what I had.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

  “Well, sir. I don’t know the partic’lars of your situation. In my case, it was an unfaithful woman.”

  Walker forced himself to remain motionless. Bates couldn’t know about Dianne. It was simply that, all too often, a woman proved to be unfaithful. “You are correct in thinking I was hurt by a woman, but I got over it. Time heals all wounds.” Though some more quickly than others.

  Bates continued. “I blamed the woman in my life for the path I chose. One that took me into a shameful way of life. Thank God, He found me and lifted me from the pit. But I carried a bucket of bitterness around long after God saved me. Bitterness toward that woman. Until I learned that the bitterness was destroying me and not hurting her a bit. So, I forgave her. Even if she doesn’t know it. Or likely even care.”

  Walker nodded. “I had bitterness toward my pa for something he did.” Though, thanks to the long-standing secret, Walker had no idea if Pa had done something or Uncle Paul had. All he knew was their family had been torn apart and wounded. “But my ma taught me I had to let it go, and I did.”

  Bates patted Walker’s hands where they rested on his drawn-up knees. “Son, I’m mighty glad to hear that. But I don’t think that’s the end of it.”

  “How so? You think God demands more of me?”

  “Son don’t think me forward, but I’ve been sitting here nigh onto three hours except for a time to eat supper. And I’ve been praying. Mostly for Jacob in there. But God kept bringing you to my mind. I don’t know what you need to do or who you need to forgive, but I’m convinced there is someone.” He shifted to study Walker. “I think you know in your heart.” Bates patted his own chest. “Who I mean.”

  Only one name came to Walker’s mind. Uncle Paul. But he didn’t know if there was anything to forgive, because he didn’t know why his uncle had left. But… “I guess I’ve been disappointed with my uncle for leaving our ranch and making it necessary to sell it.”

  “Let it go, son. Let it go. It’s the kind of thing that grows bigger with time.”

  Walker leaned back. “It no longer matters to me, so it’s no problem to let it go.”

  Bates didn’t say anything. He just leaned back beside Walker. “I pray God will show you if you need to do more.”

  They sat there, silent but not uncomfortable

  Bates spoke again, his words slow and soft. “Son, what are your plans for the future?”

  “I promised my ma I would find my uncle and let him know my parents have passed on. After that…. Well, I thought I’d keep riding north. Work some. Someday, maybe get my own place.” He knew it sounded weak and rudderless.

  “So, no real plans or goals. Why is that? Could it be that something is keeping you from wanting to settle down?”

  Walker opened his mouth, intending to say he had lots of time to plan for the future, but Bates’s words struck a tender spot in his heart. “Seems to me a man can’t count on having something that lasts.”

  Bates made a sound that could be agreement or disagreement. “Things of this earth can be snatched away. They can disappear for one reason or the other. That doesn’t mean a man is wrong to build a home while trusting God for the future. What does the Good Book say? ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof.’ Ah such a sweet reminder that God is the One who holds our future safe.”

  They fell into another long, thoughtful silence until the others returned, then made their way to bed
.

  Walker wondered what Bates would say at the Sunday service. He was a simple-speaking man, but his words carried the wisdom of his years.

  Sunday morning Walker trotted to the river and scrubbed himself clean in the water. He donned his new clothes and went into the house to join the others for breakfast.

  “Woo-eee,” Bates said as Walker sat at the table. “You clean up real nice.”

  Walker’s cheeks burned. He hoped he was brown enough from the sun that no one noticed. He would not look toward Josie to see her reaction, even when her sisters chuckled.

  Cole sat on one side of him and tipped his elbow into Walker’s ribs.

  Donny sat on Walker’s other side. “I think you look good.” He spoke heatedly, as if understanding Walker’s discomfort.

  Walker felt people staring at him but kept his attention on his plate hoping someone would soon say grace and pass the food. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to endure the strain another moment, someone gasped. He jerked up to see what was wrong and saw Jacob and Mrs. Kinsley in the doorway.

  “Pa, you’re okay? You sure you should be up?” Four girls spoke at once.

  Mrs. Kinsley waved away their concern. “Your father intends to go to church and thank all those who prayed for him.” She led him to the head of the table, and he sat down gingerly.

  “Shall we pray?” His voice was uneven, and it broke as he thanked God for the food and for his health. “Amen.”

  Walker joined the others in a heartfelt, “Amen.”

  “Do you want to deliver the sermon?” Bates asked.

  “I don’t think I’m up to that.” Jacob’s voice lacked its usual strength. “I’d appreciate if you took my place.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Breakfast was soon over, and the entire household crossed to the church. Mrs. Kinsley wanted to get her husband seated before the others began to arrive.

  “I’ll play the piano,” Victoria said. “The rest of you can help with the singing.”

  They filed into two pews. Mr. and Mrs. Kinsley, Mr. Bates, Stella, and her children in the front one. Man and wife, man and wife, man and wife in the second. Then Josie slid in. Walker hesitated. There was room on either bench.

  Josie looked up at him then down at the spot beside her. Did she mean to invite him to sit with her? Next to her was Reese. He leaned closer. “Sit down and relax.”

  He did. The church began to fill with people. As soon as they saw the preacher sitting at the front, they made their way forward to speak to him, one by one or in family groups. Many dashed away tears.

  Josie leaned closer, her whisper hidden by the sound of the piano and the low conversation in the pew ahead of them. “I didn’t realize how beloved my father is.”

  “He’s a good, kind man.”

  Her smile was shaky.

  He resisted an urge to squeeze her hands and assure her that her father was going to be okay. Instead, he looked deep into her brown eyes and smiled.

  Their gazes ended quickly, but he felt that she had let him see more of her than usual, and he sat back, rather pleased with himself.

  Bates stood at the pulpit, and the congregation quieted to hear him. “I’m not a singer, so I’ll stand here and sing the words to myself while the Kinsley girls help us.” Josie and her sisters slipped out of the pew and stood by the piano to sing.

  Walker knew he too was no singer, but he sure didn’t mind listening to their sweet voices. And if his gaze sought Josie almost exclusively, no one would know. Except perhaps Josie, whose gaze flickered away from his and then returned. And maybe Eve, who nudged her, whereupon Josie kept her attention on the front of the church.

  Walker smiled. He enjoyed the music. Partly it was. But a bigger part of his enjoyment was seeing Josie’s reaction to him.

  He lowered his head and forced his thoughts back to sensible. He was a penniless cowboy who had no plans to settle down in the near future. Josie would never see him as anything but a young man who needed the hospitality of the Kinsley home until he got his feet under him.

  The girls sat down.

  And he forgot all his talk about being a homeless cowboy as his senses filled with her nearness.

  Bates cleared his throat then began to speak. “I’m a poor preacher. Fact is, I’m no preacher a’tall. But Jacob Kinsley asked me to say a few words, and I can do that.” He paused and looked across the congregation. Walker wondered if his gaze lingered on him a moment longer than anywhere else.

  Then Bates smiled and, speaking so softly that people leaned forward to catch every word, he began. “This week we have seen that God can do powerful things, haven’t we? It makes me ask you all, is there anything too hard for God?”

  Heads shook in silent answer.

  “But sometimes we hold things back from God’s power. Sometimes we want to cling to them. Things like unforgiveness and bitterness. Like blame and shame. And sometimes we don’t think God can fix them. Like an uncertain future, failing health, the pain of loss. Folks, I’m here to tell you, there isn’t anything God can’t help you with if you let Him.”

  Walker was mesmerized by the words. He knew God could do anything. But he had been drifting through life since his ma died. Rudderless, homeless, without direction or purpose. Find his uncle and then what? He had no plan.

  Why was that? What was holding him back?

  Josie looked around the table where the family gathered for Sunday dinner. They hadn’t invited any extras, though Walker and Mr. Bates were there. Her sisters had informed her that they would leave after the meal. She missed them already but understood they needed to get back to their own homes.

  Ma kept a close eye on Pa. He was tired from the morning at church, and as soon as he stopped eating, Ma hurried him to bed.

  The others finished soon after. The girls insisted on helping clean the kitchen before they left. And then there was a flurry of good-byes.

  Stella and the children went to their room. Stella had told Josie that she was taking the children to visit a friend in town as soon as Blossom had her nap. She insisted Donny stay in the room with them so he wouldn’t make a noise and disturb Pa. He had the barn his pa made him and the animals for it in the room so he could play quietly.

  Josie looked around. The house was silent, and with no wish to disturb the peace, she slipped outside.

  Walker leaned against the wall. “Everyone has gone.”

  “Yes.”

  “It will seem quiet without the others.”

  By silent agreement they walked toward the river.

  “I will miss them, but I like being back to a routine. I like work.”

  “Your pa said you were trying to pay a debt you didn’t owe.”

  She stopped and stared at Walker. “He said that? I don’t know what he meant.”

  “I don’t either, and I didn’t ask, seeing as it’s none of my business.”

  She shook her head, and they continued on their way, passing through the trees to the river. Pa’s words tangled through her thoughts. “He knows I don’t ever want to have to live like I was when they adopted me.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask her to explain how that was and hurried on. “I know I owe them, but that isn’t why I like work. I’m not trying to pay them back.”

  “Then what are you doing? I’ve noticed you are never idle. Which I do not mean as a criticism.”

  They stood looking at the water rippling by. She considered his words. “I simply believe in working as hard as I can.”

  Walker didn’t say anything for several seconds, and she hoped he had abandoned the subject. “Mr. Bates says a powerful lot in a few words, doesn’t he?”

  She chuckled. “He surely does. What did you think of his message?”

  “It was good. You know, he spoke to me last night. He asked questions and said things that I might object to from anyone else.”

  She studied him, wondering what Mr. Bates had said, hoping Walker would tell her.

  His smile was lopsided. “He th
inks I am carrying bitterness in my heart.”

  “Toward your uncle?”

  He blinked. “So, you think it too?”

  “I was only guessing, but it seems he struck a nerve.”

  “He also said I was afraid to plan a future.”

  She shivered at the thought of him wandering about aimlessly from one place to another. “Why did he say that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is he right?”

  Walker held her gaze with such intensity that her eyes watered. “I wouldn’t say I’m afraid, but maybe I don’t see how a person can expect permanency.”

  “I hope you are wrong. I intend to have a home that no one can take away.” She needed to get that dress finished and, hopefully, attract some of the fancier ladies. “Did you tell Mr. Bates that?”

  Walker gave a mirthless laugh. “He said something to the effect that I should plan and trust God for the outcome.”

  “Sounds like what Pa says to me. I try to explain it isn’t that I don’t trust God, but I think I need to do my part.”

  They studied each other. Josie felt as if they had ventured across a bridge meant only for them.

  He smiled, filling his eyes with brightness. “So, as well as having uncles who let us down, we share a caution about the future?”

  They sat on the grass. He identified the songs of several birds in the trees behind them. Along the bank was a patch of yellow flowers.

  She pointed to them. “Pa calls those hairy cat’s ear.”

  Walker laughed. He reached out and plucked a stem and examined it. “Looks like a tall dandelion to me.” He handed her the flower, and she turned it about in her hand.

  “Are you afraid of the future?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t say it was fear that I feel. More like an unwillingness to repeat a painful lesson.”

  She assumed he was talking about the sale of the ranch his father and uncle had owned. “It must have been hard.”

  “I think it was the worst day of my life when Pa and Uncle Paul announced they were selling the ranch.” He leaned back on his elbow as he talked, and Josie scooted around so she could watch the play of emotions on his face.