“You’ll have to tell your folks,” Laurie said instantly. “They’ll be so glad to hear it!”
Cody nodded, then said cheerfully, “You’re right about that. Mother’s prayed for me ever since I was in the cradle, I guess.”
The two sat there, and Laurie basked in the light of the new assurance that now rested on Cody’s face. He was different on the outside, and she knew that reflected a change in his heart. Finally, she exclaimed, “We’ve got to go tell Mac. He’s prayed as hard for you as anybody.”
“All right. Let’s go find him.”
They found the grizzled ex-cavalryman lying on his bunk, staring up at the ceiling. At Cody’s call, he came off his bed at once, took one look at Cody and a grin broke out on his face. “Well, I see the good Lord finally caught up with you, didn’t He, son?”
“That’s right,” Cody smiled. “And I was never so glad to be caught in my life!” He went on at Mac’s insistence and told the whole story again. This time Laurie enjoyed it even more than the first time. Finally, when he finished, Mac nodded firmly. “Well, that’s only the first step. A lot more to go, though, before you’re really home.”
Cody sobered instantly. “Yes. You’re right about that, Mac. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know I’m trusting in God.” He shrugged, and a rueful look crossed his face. “I’ve trusted myself, and see where it got me. Now, I’m going to see what God will do!”
The news of Cody’s return quickly spread throughout the troupe, and Buffalo Bill himself came by to welcome the young man back. “Well, you ran off and left me in the lurch, young feller, but from what I hear, you done the necessary.” He hesitated, then shrugged his wide shoulders. “Not much for church myself, but I’m always glad to see young folks starting out right.”
Nate Salsbury came by with a warm smile, hugged Cody’s shoulders, and one by one, as they met, Cody was welcomed back. Finally, it was show time, and he said to Sam with a grin, “I’ve probably forgotten all I know about roping.”
He had not, though, and when he went out to perform, he tried several new tricks, all of which worked and had the crowd applauding wildly. When he left the arena, Laurie threw herself toward him. He caught her and held her in amazement, enthralled by the sparkling light in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Cody!” she said. “Now let’s go write the letter to your mother—no, let’s go into town and send a telegraph.”
“I guess it better be a letter,” Cody said thoughtfully. “I want to say some things that I wouldn’t want to be made public.”
“Of course,” Laurie nodded. “Why don’t you go write it, and then you and I will take it to the post office.”
Cody went at once to the cook tent, commandeered part of a table off to one side, and sat down and wrote a long letter. It was a difficult letter for him to write, and he would much rather have told it in person. Finally, however, he finished, put it in an envelope, sealed it, and addressed it. Then, rising, he went to find Laurie and nodded, “I’ve got it all done.”
“Uncle Dan and Aunt Hope will be so thrilled!” said Laurie. “Come on, I’m ready.”
They turned to go, but before they had made two steps, a voice rang out. “Hold it right there, Rogers.”
At the sound of his real name, Cody froze. Then he turned slowly to see Con Groner not ten feet away. The cowboy had a .44 in his hand leveled directly at Cody’s heart. “What’s wrong with you, Con?” he asked evenly.
“I reckon you already know,” Con said, a smirk on his face. His eyes flickered over to Laurie, and he said, “I couldn’t let you go on like this, Laurie. This fellow’s a murderer, and a convict—and I don’t know what else. I saw you falling in love with him, and I knew it wouldn’t be right. He couldn’t make you happy.”
Laurie spoke up at once. “Con, you don’t understand. Cody never killed anybody. He was unjustly accused.”
“When I was a lawman,” Groner said evenly, “I never caught a guilty man. They might be standing over the body with the gun smoking, but they all deny it, every one of them. And I reckon this one’s no different.”
“You do what you have to do, Con,” said Cody.
“I aim to. I’ve been gone now, lookin’ for the flyer on you, and I found it. Here it is.” He reached into his pocket, pulled it out, and held it in one hand. “Shot a man in the back, I hear from the authorities up your way. I didn’t figure you for that sort, but you never can tell about a man.”
Con moved closer, till he was only a few feet away. “I don’t have any cuffs, so you just turn around and don’t make any funny moves.”
Laurie was almost petrified with fear. She cried out, “Con, you can’t do this!”
Cody was turning to put his back to Groner, but he saw as Laurie spoke that the cowboy twisted to face her, so that the gun was pointed at the ground. Instantly, he lunged at Groner, with one hand striking down at the fist that held the gun, knocking it loose with a single blow. Groner cried out shortly, but he had no time to do more, for with his right hand, Cody sent a powerful blow that caught him on the point of the chin, snapping his head back. Groner fell to the ground and lay still.
Cody shook his head, a bitter expression on his lips. “I’ve got to get away, Laurie.”
“Don’t do it. You’ll be running forever,” Laurie pleaded.
“What would you have me do? Go back into that prison? I couldn’t stand it, Laurie.” He reached out and took her hand. “I’ll go back. I’ll try to find out who really did the killing I was accused of.”
“You’d be recognized immediately,” Laurie said.
Cody shook his head stubbornly, and then looked around, his mind racing. They were behind a lot where the horses were kept, and there were no cowboys in sight. Quickly, he ran to the corral, pulled a rope down, and tied Groner’s hands behind his back, and then fastened a gag. “I’ve got to get out of here,” he said, his face pale. “There’s nothing for me here now. I’ve got to go.”
Laurie hesitated for one brief moment. He saw her face change, and she said abruptly, “I’m going with you.”
“Why, Laurie, you can’t—”
Laurie shook her head fiercely. Now that she had made up her mind, there was no hesitation in her movements. “I’ll get Star, you get your horse. Drag Con over here and tie him to this pole. We don’t have long—come on!”
Cody tried to argue, but she was gone at once. He stood there looking down at Con, who was beginning to stir, then, not knowing what else to do, dragged the unconscious man over to a part of the fence and tied him to it. Seeing that Con was slowly coming to, he whirled around and ran to the corral, roped his horse, and saddled him. As he finished tying the cinch, he looked up to see Laurie riding toward him on Star. The sun caught her jeweled spur, and it glittered brightly.
“Ride out slowly,” he said. “Nobody will notice us that way.”
“All right, Cody,” she said. “I’m ready.”
The two of them rode slowly around, circling the camp. No one paid any attention to them, and they were a mile away when Laurie exclaimed, “I should have told Mac, and you’ve got to tell Sam.”
“We can’t risk going back,” Cody said. His lips grew firm and he turned to her. “But you ought to go back, Laurie. You can tell them what happened.”
“No.” Her voice was adamant, and when she looked at him, her lips were as tight as his. There was a stubbornness in her, and her backbone was straight as she sat in the saddle. Then she put the full force of her large eyes on him and said, “I’m not much for giving up on a man, Mr. Rogers. We Winslows were never known for that!”
Cody grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I’ve noticed that about Dan and Tom.” They were out of sight of the showground, but he knew the time was short. “It’ll make it harder if you come, Laurie. Now they’ll be looking for a man and a woman—lots easier to find than just a single rider.”
“We’ll do what we can,” Laurie said simply.
They rode along for a whi
le and finally spurred their horses into a slow gallop. For two hours, they kept them at a good pace, turning off the main road, and finally onto a road that twisted and turned through fresh growth timber. When they stopped to give the horses a few moments to rest and a drink at a small stream, Cody said, “You know, Laurie, I was thinking about something Sam tried to explain to me. About the way God is.”
Looking up at him, she asked, “What was that, Cody?”
“Well, he said that we see things in one scene at a time, like we saw yesterday, and then we saw last night, and now we see this morning, then after a while, we’ll see night again. You know—in little blocks like that.” He shook his head, took his hat off, and wiped his forehead. “But Sam says God’s not like that. He says the Bible says that He’s the God of yesterday, today, and forever.”
“I think that’s right.” A memory touched her, and her lips softened. “You know, Cody, my dad told me something once that really surprised me. He said, ‘God can never be disappointed in you, Laurie.’ I was surprised at that, but he went on to say, ‘To be disappointed in someone, you have to expect something out of them, and then they have to fail you, and it catches you by surprise. But God is never surprised, because He knows all things that are going to happen.’ ” She looked at him with a slight smile. “Isn’t that strange to think that God knows everything? He knows what’s going to happen to us tomorrow.”
“That’s what Sam said.” He patted his horse and looked over at her. “He said it’s like a parade. At a certain corner, somebody standing there would see one group pass, another wagon, and then, one by one, they’d all pass. And he’d see them one at a time. But if someone were up in a tall building, he’d not only see that corner, he’d see the beginning of the parade and the end of the parade, all at the same time. Sam said that’s what God’s like.” He arched his back, stretched his arms, then looked over at her. “I think that’s hopeful, don’t you, Laurie? That we’re not alone, and that God knows all about us?”
“Yes, it is, Cody.” She had been afraid, but now the fear left and she smiled at him fully. “God will watch out for us. We’ll be faithful to Him, and He’ll be faithful to help us.”
****
Cody stepped off his horse, looked around, and then said wearily, “I guess we’re safe enough here, Laurie. I’ll make a fire, and you can put the blankets down.”
“All right, Cody.” Laurie was worn to exhaustion. They had ridden hard for four days, staying off the main roads, always seeking the hill country, the rural regions, and staying away from farmhouses except when it was absolutely necessary. They had seen a few people but had talked to almost no one. Now, as she slipped out of the saddle, the strain of the days on the trail overtook her, and her legs nearly gave way. Then she tightened her lips, shook her head in self-disgust, and began pulling the bedrolls free from the horses.
By the time she had made the beds, Cody had gathered dry wood, kindled a small fire, and gotten out the cooking utensils. “What have we got for supper?” he asked wearily.
Laurie looked at the small supply sack. “One chunk of bacon and two potatoes.” She smiled across the fire at him and said, “Would you rather have bacon with potatoes—or potatoes with bacon, Mr. Rogers?”
Cody smiled and shook his head. “We’ve got to do better than this. We’ll have to ride into town and get some supplies.”
“I brought enough money, I think, to do us for a while,” Laurie said quickly. “Why don’t you let me go in and get them?”
He stared at her and shook his head. “A strange woman riding into a small town on a horse like that, dressed like you are. That would be too suspicious. Besides, everybody’ll be looking.”
Laurie began to speak cheerily as she put the potatoes in the coals to bake and covered them. While they waited, she spoke of her life. As they had sat around the campfire night after night, they had talked about their childhoods till now they knew each other very well. Finally, the food was ready, and she raked the potatoes out, peeled the jackets off, and cut them in two with a knife. The steam rose from the white, meaty inside, and she put one on his plate and the other on hers. “Is the bacon all done?” she asked.
He had been roasting it over the fire and now drew it back carefully and cut it in two, giving her one portion and keeping the other for himself. They ate slowly, knowing there was not enough, but they enjoyed what they had to eat.
After they finished washing down the meager meal with water from the creek, they sat silently, staring into the fire. The night closed in like a cloak about them. There were no stars in the sky, and except for the pale flicker of the yellow flames, there was no light at all.
Cody leaned back against a tree, put his hands behind his head, and stared across the fire. For a long time, the quietness reigned, broken only by the barking of a dog from some farmhouse far off.
Finally, he knew he had to do something. “Laurie,” he said, “we can’t go on like this. It’s no fit life for you.”
“I’ll be all right, Cody,” Laurie said quickly. She got to her feet, picked up two sticks, and added them to the campfire. As she did, he rose and reached over and took her arm. “No, I can’t put you through this. It’s not right. You’re a young woman, beautiful, and you’ve got everything a man would want.”
His words caught at her. He had never said anything like this, and now she turned to face him. The planes of his face were thrown into sharp shadows by the flickering flames, the hollows of his eyes seemed very deep, and his cheeks were angular. She had long thought he was a fine-looking young man, but now she knew that didn’t really matter. She whispered, “Do you really think so, Cody? What you just said.”
He was taken aback by her question. “Do I think so? Why, I’ve always thought so,” he said. Looking down at her, he could see the black hair, almost as dark as the night itself, as it framed her face. Her black eyes were wide and looked at him intently. He could see that she was tired, but she had not uttered one single complaint. “Most women I know would have quit a long time ago, and I don’t know why you don’t.”
“But did you mean what you said about—about me being beautiful?” asked Laurie hesitantly.
“Why, Laurie, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said, surprise in his voice. “I thought you knew that!”
The words seemed to hang in the air, and he saw her face relax. Her face was turned up, and he saw her lips grow soft and tender. Then, somehow, the pressures of the times that they had, the dangers, all seemed to fade, and all he knew was this slim, beautiful woman who stood so close to him. With almost a moan, he reached out and pulled her to him. He held her, his face pressed against hers, as he whispered, “Laurie—Laurie, you don’t know how I feel, how I love you.”
She was absolutely still in his arms, but then when she drew her head back, he saw tears making silver tracks down her smooth cheeks. Her lips trembled, and she said, “Do you? Do you, Cody?”
“Yes.”
“Well—I love you, too,” she whispered, and her eyes were blinded by tears. With a gesture completely free and wild, she reached up, pulled his head down, and pressed her lips against his. Her hands tightened around his neck as she clung to him possessively. As for Cody, the touch of her soft figure against his sent riotous emotions along his nerves. Her lips were softer than anything he had ever imagined. He thought as he held her, I love her so, but I’ll never have her.
Slowly, he pulled his head back, but he held on to her, putting his cheek next to hers and saying, “I’ve got to go give myself up.”
Laurie was very still, but finally she nodded. “I think you do, but first, we’ve got to go tell your parents.”
He held her for a moment, savoring everything about her. The sweet femininity that he had not appreciated, but he now knew was his whole life. Then, as he stepped back and held her arms he said, “We may never have any more than this, Laurie.”
“Yes, we will,” she said fiercely, throwing her arms around him
and holding him close, as if he were a hurt child. “We’ll have more than this. God wouldn’t let it be otherwise!”
They clung together for a long time, the silence broken only by the horses chomping at the grass and kicking up their hoofs from time to time. Finally, Cody and Laurie moved apart. When they lay down on their blankets, Cody said, “Tomorrow, we’ll go home.”
Her answer was soft and tremulous, yet there was faith in it, and in her eyes, if only he could have seen it. “Yes, Cody. Home—that’s where we’ll go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
A Matter of Faith
Both Laurie and Cody treasured the memories of the days that comprised their journey back to the ranch in Wyoming. They continued to avoid the populated areas, and for days they rode along half-deserted back roads. The weather was perfect; the nights were cool and nice, and the days balmy. Once Cody turned to Laurie with a smile, saying, “You couldn’t ask for better weather than this, could you?”
Laurie had glanced at him quickly and wanted to ask if he was worried about the days to come. She thought perhaps that he was storing up the beauty of the countryside, the wonderful weather, against the time when he would be locked up in a gray cell again. But she saw no sign of anxiety in his clear, blue eyes and merely nodded, “It would be nice if we could go on like this forever, wouldn’t it, Cody?”
He had smiled at her but had shaken his head. “Yes, but it can’t be like that.”
By day they rode at an even pace across wide prairies, skirting mountains that lifted up into the sky, as they inched farther toward the northwest, camping every night beside some kind of water. Sometimes it was a flowing river that they had to swim their horses through, but more often, it was a trickling stream that provided music as well as fresh water. Cody had bought a rifle at a small store and used it to bring down enough game for them. Usually, this meant a rabbit, which abounded wherever they rode, but twice he managed to shoot a deer. The second time he had gone out they had made camp early, beside a small brook, and Cody had said, “Bound to be some deer coming down for a drink of water at sundown. You make camp, and I’ll go see if I can bring one down.”
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