Gabriel's Atonement

by Vickie McDonough

  A shuffling noise pulled her gaze back to the open doorway of the soddy as Michael stepped out. He yawned, rubbed one eye with his fist, and looked around. “We got comp’ny? Whose horse is that?”

  Unwilling to ground tie the gelding until she knew his personality better, Lara held on to the reins and motioned for her son to come to her. “We don’t have company, sweetie.”

  “Then how come there’s a horse here? Is it lost?”

  “No.” She smiled. “Not lost, but it has a new home. He’s our horse.”

  Michael’s eyes widened. “Ours? Can I ride ’im?”

  “What’s this?” Grandpa shuffled out of the soddy, lifting the arm of his spectacles over one ear. He eyed the buckskin then approached the horse and ran his hand down one leg. “Nice-looking animal. Who does it belong to?”

  “He’s ours,” Lara and Michael said in unison. She chuckled and brushed her hand across her son’s curly hair.

  Grandpa grinned and pushed his hat back on his head, revealing his pale forehead. “Well, glory be! God provided, just like I said He would.”

  “He certainly did.”

  “So, can I ride ’im?” Michael clapped his hands and bounced on his toes.

  Grandpa looked at her and lifted a brow.

  “I rode him all the way home from town, and he’s a good, calm horse. If you’re going to ride, I think it’s fine for him to go with you.”

  Grandpa nodded. “I would like to give him a try. Been awhile since I’ve been on a horse as nice as this one. Where did he come from?”

  Lara’s joy wilted. “Take a ride, and then I’ll explain it.”

  He eyed her again but nodded. God had given them the horse they needed. If only He’d let them get land where they could finally settle down and build a house with wood floors and a roof that didn’t leak, and windows where she could look out upon the prairie. God could do anything—she knew that and believed it—but it was hard to keep believing when only bad things happened, month after month.

  “Lift me up, Mama. Lift me!” Michael’s tugging on her skirt yanked her from her thoughts. She picked him up, groaning at his weight, and hoisted him in front of her grandpa. “My, you’re getting heavy.”

  He grinned like a possum and held on to the saddle horn. Grandpa looped one arm around the wiggly boy and held the reins with his other. He nodded at Lara. “Back in a bit.”

  She watched them go, pride welling up in her at how straight a seat her grandfather sat in spite of his sixty-three years, spending weeks at a time in bed because of his malaria, and the years he fought in the War Between the States. He was a strong man, and she loved him so much. How would she get by without him when the Lord took him home?

  She shoved that thought away, but another took its place. Too bad she couldn’t find such a man to marry. Not that she particularly wanted to marry again. Gabriel Coulter’s image blossomed in her mind. She snorted, drawing a maa-aa from Mildred. Lara shook her head, freeing it from the picture of the sweet-talking dandy, and plucked a handful of grass and carried it to the fence. Her goats crowded one another as they attacked the treat—the same grass that fell over the fence into their pen. She smiled and shook her head. “You silly critters.” Mildred lapped at Lara’s skirt, and she pulled it away before the goat sank her teeth into the fabric.

  In the soddy, she found an empty can and a large spoon and set them on the table next to a skinned rabbit. She swatted away a pair of flies. As she looked around the small house, she realized how little they had to move. She and Jo had three dresses each: two for working in and one for Sunday services and special events, although they rarely were able to attend either lately. Grandpa and Michael both had one extra pair of clothing. She wished she’d been better at providing for her family, but food came first.

  Behind the soddy, she rummaged through a stack of crates, selected one, and dusted it out with the hem of her apron. Back inside, she filled it with her meager supply of canned goods, reserving a can of peaches to serve with dinner. She eyed the rabbit and decided to put it on to simmer. After starting a fire, she filled her pot half full with water and the rabbit, and set it on the fire. She washed her hands then went to pack some more, all the while praying God would bless them with a claim as He had a horse.

  “Mama, we’re home.”

  Grabbing an empty can and a spoon, she spun toward the door and met her guys outside.

  “Grandpa letted me steer the horse, and I made him stay on the trail.”

  “Good job, son. I’m proud of you. Hop on down because I have a job for you.”

  “Aww…do I haf’ta?”

  “Do as your ma says.” Grandpa lifted Michael halfway down and let go.

  The boy dropped the rest of the way and fell partly under the horse.

  Holding her breath, Lara rushed forward and pulled him back by his suspenders. The horse looked their way but never moved.

  Grandpa dismounted, albeit a bit stiffly, and patted the horse’s neck. “He’s well trained and has a comfortable gait.”

  “We runned him.” Michael grinned up at her.

  Lara looked at Grandpa, lifting an eyebrow.

  He smiled and shrugged. “The boy wanted to go fast, and so did I. What can I say?”

  She shook her head. “Sometimes I think I’m raising three children.”

  “Nuh-uh. You only gots one. Me!”

  “That’s right, buddy.” She scooped her son into her arms and gave him a loud smooch on the cheek.

  He giggled, his eyes sparkling with delight.

  “Now, how would you like to dig some worms so you and Grandpa can go fishin’?”

  “Yippee! That’s not work. That’s fun.”

  She handed him the can and pointed to a shady spot with little grass. “Why don’t you try over there? Grandpa and I need to talk.”

  Her son jogged over and plopped down. She hoped he’d stay happy with his task long enough for her to say all she needed to.

  She walked over to where Grandpa was unsaddling the horse. “Where will we put him since we have no barn or paddock?”

  “I’ll hobble him in a nice patch of grass.”

  “I hate to tie him up like that—and do you think he’ll be safe? Will we need to post a guard?”

  “I don’t think the good Lord would send us a horse and then allow him to get stolen by some miscreants. And besides, if anyone came near here at night, those goats of yours would sound the alarm.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  He looked over the back of the horse at her. “What’s on your mind?”

  He could always tell when something bothered her. “It’ll wait until you’re done with the horse.”

  She checked on the stewing rabbit then walked over and sat on the end of the buckboard, keeping watch on Michael. After a few minutes, Grandpa joined her.

  “What’s turning that smile I love upside down?”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. But today, I saw that man again in Caldwell—Mr. Jones, the one who tried to get me to go to Kansas City with him—and he gave me the horse. He said it was Tom’s, but I didn’t believe it until I recognized the saddle.”

  Grandpa’s head jerked her way. “It was Tom’s?”

  She nodded.

  “No wonder I thought that saddle looked familiar. I didn’t see the initials though. So, how did you come by it?”

  “It came with the horse. Mr. Jones came up to me while I was talking to someone today and gave me the horse. He said it had been in the livery ever since Tom’s death, and Mr. Jones wanted to be sure I got it.”

  “Seems like an awful nice fellow, this Mr. Jones.”

  “I don’t know. He’s not very tidy, and there’s something about him that puts me on edge. I think he works for someone. Well, I know he does since he mentioned his boss wanting to meet me.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “Most folks do work for someone.”

  She bumped his arm. “You know what I mean. He said his boss had the m
oney Tom left and wanted me to come and get it. Doesn’t that seem odd? Why didn’t he bring the money when he brought the horse if that was true?”

  “I don’t know, dear. Some folks do odd things. But I’m sure glad he brought the horse. It’s a much finer one than Tom owned in the past.”

  “I thought the same thing.”

  “God works in mysterious ways.”

  “Yes, He does.” Lara studied the small farm that had been their home for the last few years. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’ll load up and move out. And pray that God allows us to get a parcel of land. He knows our needs before we have them.”

  She wanted to ask if God saw their well-patched clothing and small stock of food, but that would be irreverent. Mildred stuck her head over the fence and bleated at Michael. “What are we going to do about the goats when we leave?”

  “I don’t reckon I could talk you into selling them.”

  She gasped and glared at him.

  “I didn’t think so. Sure would make traveling easier.”

  “That’s true, but I’m not selling them. I already gave Lolly to Mr. Hancock since we couldn’t pay the rent we owed him.”

  “I’m sorry you had to do that. I wish I was able to work somewhere and better provide for you three.”

  “Please don’t feel bad about that. Like you said, traveling will be easier with one less goat.”

  He nodded and slid off the end of the buckboard. “I need to see if that old halter I have will fit the gelding.”

  “Where should we go when we leave here? I couldn’t find a place for us to rent, not with so many people surging into the area.”

  “I’ll ride into town tomorrow and see what I can find out. There’ll be talk about the run and the best places to go.”

  “I thought you rode through the area on your cattle drive days.”

  “I did, but the government is opening up millions of acres. That’s a lot of land, and some places will be better for farmin’ than others. Guess I’d better see to that horse.”

  “Supper should be ready in an hour. I need to cut up some carrots and potatoes and get them cooked.”

  He glanced down the trail. “When’s Jo gonna be home?”

  “I don’t know. She stayed behind to say good-bye to her friends.”

  “She ought to be here helpin’ you.”

  “That would be nice.”

  Michael jumped up and ran toward her, spoon waving in the air. “Ma! I named the horse.”

  “You did? What name did you choose?”

  “Sunshine, ’cause he’s kind of lellowy.”

  “He looks yellow to you?”

  He nodded, curls bouncing.

  “Sunshine is kind of a girly name for a male horse,” Grandpa said. Michael frowned, as if deep in thought.

  She hated seeing him disappointed, but Sunshine did not fit their big gelding very well. “What if we shorten the name to Sunny?”

  Michael’s lips lifted in a big smile. “Yeah. That’s a good name.”

  She slid off the buckboard, glad that issue was settled so easily. If only the race for a homestead would be as simple.

  Chapter 11

  Lara, with Jo’s help, shook out the last of their quilts and then folded it. She handed the bulky bedding to her sister. “Go ahead and put that with the others, and I’ll do a final check of the soddy to make sure we didn’t leave anything behind.”

  Jo nodded. “I still don’t think it’s fair that we have to move, especially on such short notice and with so many people crowding into town.”

  “We’d have to leave soon anyway to participate in the land rush.” Grandpa backed the old mule up to the wagon and started harnessing it.

  Michael leaned over the front of the wagon. “Can I drive?”

  Grandpa chuckled. “I thought you wanted to ride on Sunny with Jo.”

  Lara walked toward the wagon, curious about his comment. “Why would we have to leave?”

  “We need to move down to the border of Kansas and the Oklahoma Territory soon so that we can get a good spot to race from.”

  “How far is it from the border to the Unassigned Lands?” Jo leaned over the side of the wagon and set the quilt on the stack of other ones.

  The harness jingled as Grandpa strapped it on the mule. “It’s a fair piece. Nearly halfway across the state. I’m guessing somewheres between seventy-five and a hunnerd miles.”

  Jo let out a slow whistle. “Do you reckon Sunny has it in him to run that far?”

  Grandpa paused, resting one arm on the mule’s back. “I don’t think he’ll have to gallop all that way. Folks are fussing with the government, trying to talk the powers that be into allowing us racers from the north to cross the Cherokee Strip before the race begins.”

  “How wide is that?” Lara asked.

  “Fifty or sixty miles, from what I’ve heard.”

  Lara joined Jo and leaned against the wagon. “Crossing that before the race could make all the difference in getting land or not getting it.”

  Grandpa nodded. “That’s true. We all need to pray that they allow us to traverse it early.”

  Jo crossed her arms. “Why do we all need to go?”

  “It’s too far to come back, if I get land,” Grandpa said. “We all need to be close to defend it from claim jumpers who might try to take it away, especially before we get the land registered.”

  Lara hated to voice the question running circles in her brain, but knew she had to. “And what if you don’t get land? What will we do then? Surely there can’t be enough for all the thousands of people surging into Caldwell.”

  Grandpa straightened and patted the mule. “Then we’ll pray and ask God what we should do.”

  Lara returned to the soddy and searched the small home a final time to make sure they’d packed all of the belongings. They simply had to get land. If they did, they could build a wood home where snakes and critters didn’t drop from the ceiling and they didn’t get wet and muddy when thunderstorms raced through dropping buckets of rain in a short while. They could make some real beds and not have to sleep on the cold floor anymore. She walked to the door and glanced over to the tree where Sunny was tied. Jo struggled to lift Tom’s heavy saddle onto the buckskin’s back and finally succeeded. Why else would God have given them the horse, if not to ride in the race and win a claim? Having their own property—one hundred and sixty acres that no one could evict them from—was a dream come true. It would give Grandpa a place where he could raise horses again, and she could have as big a garden as she wanted. “Please, heavenly Father. Grant us favor.”

  Michael ran toward her. “Mama, Grandpa’s wantin’ to know if you’re ready to go.”

  “Almost. I still need to see what I can harvest from the garden.” She bent and picked up the bucket she’d left near the door for that purpose.

  “Can I help?”

  “You’d better make a trip to the privy first.”

  “Aww, I don’t need to.”

  She lifted her brows and gave him a stern look.

  He ducked his head and turned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Smiling, she opened the gate and made her way through the garden. If only they could have stayed a few more months, they would have been able to harvest more than a few small carrots, beets, and onions, which barely covered the bottom of the bucket. At least they would help flavor tonight’s soup. With the money she’d made from her final load of mending, she’d bought several potatoes, a one-pound bag of rice, and a small hunk of ham. Her mouth watered.

  She closed the gate behind her for the final time. Mr. Hancock’s son’s family would be the one to enjoy the fruit of her labor.

  With her bucket safely tucked into the rear of the wagon that held all of their belongings, she climbed onto the seat, next to her son. Grandpa released the brake and slapped the reins against the mule’s back, and they were off—at a tedious pace. A fly whizzed past her ear, and she swatted her hand in the air. “Where are we
going?”

  “I scouted out a place south of here near where the Beaumont family used to live. There are some trees near a creek, and there weren’t many people camped there yet. I figured if we traveled about four miles today and about the same the day after, we’ll make it to the state border.”

  “What about food? Are there any places to purchase supplies?” Not that she had much money.

  “I doubt it. But we’ve got a good supply of flour and cornmeal. Could be we can barter for whatever else we need.”

  As they reached the main trail, Grandpa turned right instead of going on the trail that led to Caldwell. He was the one member of her family to have ever traveled south of the town. “Can you tell me what it’s like in the Oklahoma Territory? Will we encounter—” Lara glanced at her son then mouthed the word Indians?

  Jo rode up closer to Lara’s side, as if she, too, wanted to hear his response.

  “Much of Oklahoma is grasslands situated on rolling hills. Some places have lots of trees and others are bald of them. It’s a lot dryer in the southwestern part than the central and northern areas. As long as we get a place with a good water supply, we should do fine.”

  “Does it snow as much there as it does in Kansas?” Jo asked.

  Grandpa shook his head. “I don’t believe so, but I was never there during wintertime. Still, it’s farther south, so my guess would be that we won’t see as much.”

  “That would certainly be a blessing.” Lara thought of how hard it was getting to town in cold weather. Snow made it impossible to venture very far. If they hadn’t had the good fortune of smoking a deer and catching quite a few fish last year, they might not have made it through the bitter weather. The Oklahoma Territory certainly sounded like the Garden of Eden, but she’d learned the hard way to not get her hopes up. People had a way of exaggerating and making things sound better than they really were. She’d pray for land, but at the same time, she wouldn’t allow her hopes to build. She couldn’t afford another big disappointment.