by DiAnn Mills
“All right. But I’m not happy,” Mama said.
“That’s real plain.” Evan rested his forearms on the table. “But John has a job to do. Just like the rest of us. I’d be going with him if he didn’t need me here.”
John remembered Evan tried to get Bob to deputize him, but he’d keep that information to himself.
“Don’t even think about it, Evan Frank Timmons.” Mama’s eyes flashed a rare display of anger.
Evan held up his hands. “Calm down. I have plenty of tools to mend in the next few days, and a letter to write to the Colorado State Veterinary Association.”
John wanted to stand up and cheer. “Are you working on the admission papers?”
“Oh, I’ve already completed those. Looks to me like I need to get started on my education as soon as possible.”
Misgivings crawled through John’s mind, and he hoped Evan’s eagerness had nothing to do with Bert. The two would have plenty of time to be together while he was gone.
“I want to check on Oberlander’s mare before it gets dark,” John said. “I think he can pick her up anytime. I could probably deliver her in the morning on my way to Rocky Falls.”
Mama smiled. “That’s a good idea. Victor won’t need to make an extra trip here to get her.”
Good. She isn’t fond of Oberlander. John scooted his chair back from the table and noted Bert had finished her supper too. “Bert, would you mind joining me? I need to talk to you about what to do if you see someone strange. Everyone here has a rifle but you.”
Bert moistened her lips and glanced at Mama.
“Go ahead. This is important. We’ll have you sing and play for us later, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes ma’am. We won’t be long.”
John avoided Evan’s eyes and made his way to the door with Bert behind him. One of the boys laughed, and John figured it was Mark or Aaron. Stepping outside onto the porch, he breathed in the fresh air. He had Bert to himself, and he didn’t care if it was selfish.
They walked side by side to the corral. She stood almost to his shoulder. How could one so small have such power over him?
Concentrate on the horses. Racer and Queen Victoria had become cozy, which would help John stay in the rancher’s good graces. He could talk to Bert about horses and not get so flustered.
“Look at the sunset,” Bert said. “I love those soft colors of yellow, orange, and purple. God painted it very nicely.”
“Is this your way of telling me God’s now a part of your life?”
She laughed softly. “Yes, it is. I’m very new, a brand new Christian, you might say.”
Thank You. The news spread through him like warm syrup. “I’m real happy for you. When I was about twelve, I thought following God was the coward’s way out. Then I grew close to my Uncle Parker and realized a real man understood where his brave heart comes from.”
She was quiet, but he’d not pry. He’d learned that much about her. “Be careful while I’m gone. If you sense anything strange, let Mama or Evan know. My pa’s rifle is under Mama’s bed. I’ll make sure it’s cleaned and loaded.”
She nodded. “I hope you catch him before then.”
Him? What did she know?
“How did you get your name?” John said. “Not the nickname, but Ember. It’s unusual.”
“My mother gave it to me just before she died.”
“I’d like to hear the story.”
She hesitated, as though thinking through her words. “My mother birthed me and knew she was dying. According to my brother Gideon, she fought desperately to name me while life slipped away. She was staring into the fire as the last log fell apart into ashes, sending sparks everywhere. That’s when she said for my pa to call me Ember. She said my life was beginning while hers was ending. She died shortly afterward.”
He pictured a woman who looked like Bert holding on to life until she’d given her baby girl a name. “That’s a beautiful story. Do you have a second name?”
She took a deep breath. “Rose. Gideon gave it to me because it belonged to my mother.”
“Ember Rose. Fits together real nice.” How could he ever call her Bert again? Maybe when the time was right …
“Thank you. Gideon was the only one who ever called me by my rightful names. My pa and my brothers always called me Bert.”
Relief swept through him. She did have someone good in her life. “Where is Gideon now?”
“He died of pneumonia four years ago.”
The thought hit John that those who’d loved her had died. “I’m sorry. I can tell you miss him. You already told me your father is alive. Whereabouts are you from?”
She glanced away.
He’d gone too far into her private world. “You aren’t going to tell me any more, are you?”
“I can’t, John. It’s too dangerous.”
He refused to make her feel bad. Not today. “Maybe another time. Right now I want to be your friend and earn your trust. Like I told you the night on the road. I appreciate your telling me how you got your name. I haven’t pried like I set out to do because I want you to tell me the truth when you’re comfortable.”
She nodded and from the way she stared out into the corral, she must have wondered if she’d done the right thing by telling him how she got her name.
“Telling me about yourself is not a thing to fear.”
“But I’m afraid, and I can’t tell you why.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“Why?”
How much more could he reveal about himself than what he’d done on the starlit night? “I think you already know.”
She rested her arms on the corral fence and leaned into it. “When I’m here and with you, I feel safe.”
“That’s the way I want it always to be.”
She continued to gaze out at the horses. “But it’s impossible. Someone’s bound to get hurt again. And I don’t mean just Evan and breaking his heart. I’m talking about blood.”
A chill rose on his arms. “The cattle rustlers?”
She shook her head. “Stealin’ and killin’ is all he’s ever known, and he has a way of dragging others into the mud with him.”
“Do you know where this ‘he’ is?”
“No. He’s like a snake, slithering under rocks and striking when a person least expects.”
“Would you give me information about him if you thought someone might get hurt?”
Bert continued to stare out at the horses. She slowly turned to face him. “When I decided my life needed God, I also decided I would do whatever I could to stop any more bloodshed.” She touched his arm. “I’d rather die myself than see any of you hurt.”
John didn’t like the finality of her words. Neither did he like what they meant. Weariness had taken a toll on John’s heart, and he wanted answers now. “How long is a man supposed to wait for a woman to trust him?”
She shook her head and walked away.
John had his answer.
CHAPTER 31
Two days later, Leah found herself alone during the afternoon. Ember had taken Davis fishing while the other boys were off looking for strays and making sure their own cattle were intact. Leah hated that they were gone. Their absence worried her. And she was afraid they’d run into rustlers. Her sons carried rifles, and the weapons were a constant reminder of what had happened to John—and could happen again.
“We have our rifles with us all the time,” Evan had said when she voiced her fears. “Nothing’s changed.”
“I’m no fool. But you normally carry your weapons to protect yourself from wild animals, not armed men.”
Aaron leaned on his saddle horn and reached out to take her hand. Mercy, the boy could charm just like his father. “There will always be wild animals and men who want to take what we have. Totin’ guns means we have a chance against them.”
Leah had no answer for him.
Now she realized her best pondering and prayer time came when she washed cloth
es. Something about scrubbing the dirt from her sons’ britches and shirts, rinsing out the soap and hanging them on the line to dry, seemed to bring answers to problems. But not today.
Rowdy’s barking brought Leah’s attention to the road leading back to the 5T. A lone rider headed toward the house. Lord, haven’t we had enough strangers? She gave the man a second scrutiny, and when she didn’t recognize the horse, she dropped the clothes into the basket and hurried to the porch to fetch her rifle. With all the talk of rustlers and missing cattle, she’d not hesitate to send a no-good man to meet his Maker.
Leah lifted the heavy weapon to her shoulders. Sometimes she wished she were twice her size. The man waved as though he knew her. She squinted. Surely not.
“Miss Leah.” Wirt Zimmerman rode right up to the front steps. “You’re as pretty as I remember.” The same pale gray eyes and smooth skin. A few lines had formed from the corners of his eyes, but the easy smile drew her to him.
He hadn’t changed. “Afternoon, Wirt. It’s been a long time. What brings you all the way out here?”
“Business. Parker sent me. Said you folks needed help with cattle rustlers.”
Then why did he send you? “We’ve had problems.”
Wirt pushed his hat back. “I’m not the same man, Miss Leah. I’ve worked hard with the US Marshals and learned a lot. I can imagine what you’re thinking, but I’ll not disappoint you or anyone else in this community.”
Leah had given Bert a second chance. She could give Wirt one too—at least a partial one. “Would you like some cool water?” She rested her rifle against the side of the porch.
“I would.” He dismounted, and she caught the familiar sparkle in his eyes.
She wondered about those eyes more than she cared to admit. Gray. A mix of black and white. Her daddy back in Virginia said a man with gray eyes could never be trusted—never knew whose side he was on. Of course her daddy had chased Parker and Frank off with a shotgun.
“Won’t be taking up much of your time,” Wirt said. “I need to ride on into Rocky Falls, but I was anxious to see you. How are the boys?”
“They’re fine. Growing like weeds. John’s still in charge of the ranch and doing deputy work. In fact, he’s in town working with Marshal Bob Culpepper.”
“I’m not surprised. The boy I remember must be a man now. He did have a heart for justice.”
“Would you like to come inside?”
“No thanks. I’d rather wait on the porch here. Seems more fittin'. And I do need to help bring in those cattle rustlers.”
Maybe he had grown into a US Marshal. She left the door open while she dipped a ladle of cool water into a glass. “Not sure you’d recognize the boys.”
“Five years is a long time. I was thinking John’s about twenty-three.”
“Right.”
“And that makes Evan eighteen, Aaron sixteen, Mark fourteen, and Davis is nine.”
She smiled and handed him the glass of water. “Your memory serves you well, Wirt.”
“For some things, yes.”
His tender look told her the words he’d written in his letters were still on his heart. “Have a seat. Did you visit your family?”
Wirt sat on the bench by the front door, and Leah slid onto a rocking chair. “I did. The Quaker life isn’t for me, but I respect their beliefs. And I felt a need to make some sort of reconciliation with my folks.”
“Were you well received?”
He glanced toward the barn, then back to her. “As I expected. But I tried, and that’s all God requires of me. I write them and hope they read the letters.”
Guilt assailed Leah. “Sorry I stopped writing. I was confused with what you asked, and I didn’t know for sure how I felt.”
“I understand. I was pushing you too soon after Frank had died, not thinking about the worries of raising those boys. While I’m here, I hope you’ll see my dandy days are over.”
Leah rubbed the palms of her hands together. Victor and Wirt. Good heavens. Now she knew how Ember felt.
“No need to say a word. I’ll prove myself. I’ve had five years to think about you—about your sons—and what God has purposed for me.” He stood and handed her the empty glass. “Unless you tell me you have another suitor, I’d like to call on you.”
Was Victor a suitor or simply an interested man? “I don’t know what to say.”
“Good. That’s not a no.” He righted his hat. “I’ll be leaving now.”
She watched him mount his horse while curiosity picked at her. “When did you become a Christian?”
He smiled. “When you quit writing. Guess that makes it three years, four months, and two days.”
Leah laughed. “I’m glad to know my refusal to marry you went for God’s glory.”
He sat straight in the saddle, looking far too appealing. “But you see I’m back and even more determined.”
Wirt rode away at a fast pace, not giving her a moment to refuse him. She wrapped her arms around her chest and wondered what he’d say if he knew she’d kept his letters.
CHAPTER 32
John rode into the dusty streets of Rocky Falls late in the afternoon, tired and tasting a mouthful of dirt. For two days, he’d ridden hard to talk to folks about the cattle rustlin', but no one had a thing to report. He reached for his canteen and finished up the water, washing down the dirt and grit — enough to grow potatoes. The number of missing cattle had risen to two hundred head. He told himself and the angry ranchers that plenty of cattle grazed in the higher summer pastures, but not two hundred of them. The cattle must have been driven farther south, which meant the rustlers were well on their way to Denver.
He knew many of the ranchers suspected Bert having a part in the thievery, so he offered to turn in his deputy badge. Not one man took him up on it.
No one had better break the law today, ‘cause he wasn’t in the mood to hear any excuses.
Truth was, he fretted about a wagon load—no, two wagon loads—of burdens that weighed hard on his mind. He understood the importance of bringing his problems to the Lord, but it didn’t stop the anxiety raging through him. The rustlers were growing bolder, as though daring him and Bob to discover their identity. The instructions he’d given his brothers and Mama to keep a loaded rifle close by as a precaution gave him some peace of mind. But just some. He feared for them, especially if the rustlers got wind of him not being around.
Another matter tearing through him was Bert. As much as he wanted to believe she cared for him, the idea of her and Evan keeping company in his absence sent a green streak up his spine. John’s feelings were new and fragile, and he wanted to trust her. But Evan might not be ready to concede. One couldn’t help but see the caring in Evan’s eyes. And why couldn’t she confide in him about her past?
Lately Oberlander found excuses to come by the ranch. Another reason for John to examine his feelings. Shouldn’t he want Mama to be happy? Except he didn’t think Victor Oberlander measured up to what he figured she deserved. There, he’d admitted it, if to no one else but himself. Oberlander had plenty of money, and Mama worked much too hard. But she never complained.
Another troublesome notion was John didn’t think Oberlander had a close relationship with the Lord. The language he used and his actions often pointed to the condition of his heart.
I won’t figure any of this out today.
He tied his horse to the hitching post outside the marshal’s office and studied another horse tied there too. John frowned. The painted gelding didn’t look familiar. Sure hope it isn’t more trouble. Fine looking saddle and saddle bags … Certainly not a drifter.
John stepped onto the boardwalk and turned the knob into the marshal’s office. The aroma of fresh coffee and the not-so-pleasant smells of the jail met him. Wirt Zimmerman rose from the chair across from Bob’s desk. A smile spread over the man’s face, and he reached out to shake John’s hand.
“Good to see you,” Wirt said. “You’ve grown into a fine lookin’ man.”<
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Wirt Zimmerman was not what he and Bob needed. But John shook the man’s hand anyway as a gesture of good manners. Maybe the US Marshal had gained some valuable experience — or maybe he hadn’t. John realized he needed to rein in his surly mood. “Parker wired us and said you were coming. Good to see you.”
“I imagine I’m not what you or Bob wanted, but I’ve learned a lot over the past five years. A good US Marshal decided to make a man out of me, and I did my best to live up to his expectations.”
“We all need someone to show us the ropes.” John had learned a lot in five years too, and he needed to give Wirt the same credit. “I hope I’m not the same hot-headed kid who took after a whole gang of outlaws by myself.” He captured Wirt’s gaze and offered silent respect. They both grinned.
“That arm of yours all right?”
John refused to look at the bandage and admit it still bothered him once in a while. Mostly stiff. “Yeah. I’m ready to get rid of the bandage. Makes me feel like a helpless old man.”
Wirt chuckled. “Between the three of us, we should be able to figure out who’s behind the cattle rustlin'. Like you, I hope we can find the livestock before the thieves make their way to Denver. The stockyards are aware of stolen cattle, but not much anyone can do if the brands are changed.”
“I agree, and we’re ready to do whatever it takes to stop them,” Bob said. “The ranchers here are edgy and nervous. John and I spend as much time tryin’ to calm them down as tryin’ to stop any more trouble.” He nodded at John to pull up an extra chair to the desk.
“Parker tells me the problem started about a month ago,” Wirt said. “Do you mind filling me in on what’s been going on?”
“Be glad to.” Bob pointed to the coffeepot on the small stove. “I made coffee less than an hour ago. Grab a mug from my desk. I’ve drunk plenty for the day.”
Wirt immediately snatched up two mugs. “John, you want some?”
The Wirt John remembered would have thought only about himself. “Sure thing. Thanks.”
Bob cleared his throat. “We may have caught one of the thieves, a man by the name of Leon Wilson. He worked for one of the ranchers, Victor Oberlander. Wilson got himself fired and bragged about what he was going to do to Oberlander. Then cattle turned up missing.”