by DiAnn Mills
“Told you before I’ll run away.”
His final words echoed in her mind. First she knocked and called his name. Nothing. Then she opened the door.
Bonnie gasped. Zack’s bed was empty. It hadn’t been slept in, and his window was open over the back porch.
*****
Since Travis had repaired Bonnie’s roof in just one day, on Tuesday morning he and the reverend joined Frank Kahler to help finish his house a day earlier than planned. They were supposed to sand the floors and cut the inside doors. Maybe on Wednesday they could stain them all before the evening service. Some folks had donated furniture, including a fine desk from Morgan Andrews. Those things would be delivered on Thursday. Then he could move in on Friday or Saturday and hang the doors himself.
“As much as I enjoy Mrs. Rainer’s cooking, I’m looking forward to living here,” Travis said.
“We’re expecting you to show up anytime you’re hungry, but I expect you’ll have plenty of invitations.” He chuckled. “Watch out someone doesn’t try to marry you off to one of their daughters.”
Travis touched his bushy hair and beard. “I believe only a lady who needs glasses would give me a second look.”
“Or one who looks at the heart,” Frank said. “I have the most beautiful wife in these parts, and look at me. I more resemble a bear than a man.”
Travis shook his head. “I imagine I’ll be married to the church instead of a woman.”
“You never know what God has in mind. A good woman is a blessing, and children make a man feel complete.” The reverend nodded to punctuate his words.
Travis knew the truth. The past haunted him like a worried demon.
Before he could form a reply, someone knocked on the open front door and called out for the reverend. “I’m sorry to bother you, but this is important.”
“Come on back, Bonnie. Do you need to talk to me in private?”
One quick glimpse at her reddened eyes and face caused Travis to feel more than a little uncomfortable. What had Zack done now?
“Yes, please,” she said.
“Should Brother Travis join me?”
“I suppose.”
Travis heard the hesitancy, but he accompanied the reverend to the front porch anyway. One little woman should not have to bear such anguish alone.
“It’s Zack.” She swallowed hard. “We had an argument last night about another of his fistfights and his disrespect for others. I thought he went to bed, but instead he left home. His bed wasn’t slept in. I—I didn’t discover he was missing until this morning.”
“Do you have any idea where he might have gone?” the reverend said.
She shook her head. “I brought the carriage into town, took Michael Paul to school, and left Lydia Anne with Mama. I came here before going to see Morgan or the sheriff.”
The reverend wrapped his arms around her trembling shoulders. “I’ll go with you to see Morgan. What about Grant?”
“He wouldn’t go there. Grant’s made it clear that Zack isn’t welcome with the little girls.” She moistened her lips. “Can’t say I blame him.”
“Anything I can do?” Travis caught her gaze, and for a moment he believed he’d do about anything to help her find Zack.
“No, thank you. We’ll find him.” She dabbed beneath her eyes and turned from him.
“Is he on horseback?” the reverend said.
“No. I’m sure he realized one of the ranch hands would’ve caught him taking a horse.”
“Then he couldn’t have gone far. Any friends that he might have gone to?”
“Reverend, Zack has gotten so ornery that I don’t think he has any friends left.”
The older man pressed his lips together. “All right. I imagine Morgan will have some ideas. Maybe Chad’s seen him.”
“I really would like to help, but I understand,” Travis said. Despite their differences, she was a lovely woman. But a pretty face had once gotten him into a heap of trouble. “I’ll be right here with Frank and praying for you.” His attention focused on Eustes Arthur, the town sheriff, making his way toward them at a fast pace.
“Mrs. Kahler.” Sheriff Arthur frowned.
She whirled around and greeted him with a pleasant smile.
“This isn’t a social call,” he said. “I’ve got your boy in jail.”
Mrs. Kahler’s face blanched, and her shock yanked at Travis’s heart. Zack needed a firm hand, a man’s hand.
“He’s just a boy.” Her voice rose. “And you’re treating him like a criminal.”
“Your boy was caught red-handed, stealing a saddle at the livery. Where was he going to put it? And you know what’s done to horse thieves in this part of the country.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, then she took a deep breath. “I’m sure there’s been a mistake.” She turned to the reverend. “If you would kindly get Morgan, I’ll walk over to the jail with Sheriff Arthur.” Her skirts swished by as she stepped down from the porch. In the next instant, the sheriff followed.
The reverend threw Travis a wary glance, and he understood exactly what was expected of him. Hurrying back into the house, he found Frank. “I’ve got an errand to run. I’ll be back as soon as
I can.”
When he caught up with Mrs. Kahler and the sheriff, she tossed Travis a look that would have stopped a cornered polecat.
“I don’t need your help, Brother Whitworth. This is family business.”
He ignored her dismissal and kept step beside her.
“You are one stubborn man,” she said barely above a whisper.
“I’m a man of God. We go where we’re led, even when we aren’t wanted.”
“Obviously.”
Inside the jail, Mrs. Kahler nearly crumpled at the sight of Zack sitting in a cell.
“What have you done?” she said.
Good. Don’t let him get off with this easily.
“It’s all a mistake.” Zack stood and peered at his mother with the same woeful eyes that Travis had seen that first day in town. “I walked most of the night and fell asleep in the livery. I was using the saddle for a pillow.”
“I don’t know if you’re telling the truth or not.” She turned to the sheriff. “Please unlock the cell. My brother will straighten this out.”
Sheriff Arthur blew out an exasperated sigh. “Mrs. Kahler, you’ve got to get your son under control. If he’s like this at twelve, what’s he going to be like at thirteen, fifteen, or seventeen? Mark my words, if you don’t get ahold of Zack, he’ll end up in prison—or hung.”
She stiffened. “Right now, I demand you release him. I will handle his discipline if the situation calls for it.”
The sheriff had long since turned a vivid shade of red. “Not until you tell me that something’s going to be done about all the trouble he’s getting into.”
“How dare you talk about my son this way? Why, if his father were alive, you wouldn’t be talking to me like this.”
“If Ben were here, none of this would be taking place. Zack’s mean streak would have been taken care of behind the woodshed.”
“Zack knows what’s going to happen because of his behavior.”
“No!” Zack backed up until he was against the cell wall. “I’d rather stay here.”
Anger grew between mother and son, much like corn bread and milk on a sour stomach. Zack attempted to look brave, but Travis saw more than an angry boy. He saw a cry for help. A nudging in Travis’s spirit made him want to head back to sanding floors with Frank, but he’d stay and do whatever was needed.
Within the hour, the reverend and Morgan joined them. Neither man looked a bit happy over the circumstances.
“My job is to keep the law,” Sheriff Arthur said. “If this boy were grown, he’d be facing a w
hole lot more than an angry family.”
“Excuse me,” Travis said. “Would you consider releasing him to me? I can continue his schooling and keep him busy.”
“If Zack is going to stay with anyone, it will be with my mother and the reverend,” Bonnie said.
“I think not,” Morgan said quietly. “I’m not putting an undue burden on Mama or the reverend. It’s time they took life a little easier.”
“You’re talking about Zack living with a complete stranger. Besides, it wouldn’t be long. I’ve . . . I’ve decided to send him to a military school back East.”
Morgan remained unmoved. “That’s a good decision, but he doesn’t need to live with Mama and the reverend until we can make arrangements.”
“Then let me have him for a while,” Travis said with no display of emotion. “I’d like to try to help. If Zack could change, then he wouldn’t need to leave his family.”
The room grew silent as everyone waited for Mrs. Kahler to speak. Tears streamed down her face.
“What about me?” Zack said. “I don’t want to live with no preacher.”
“You can take him,” she said, regaining her composure. “He can be very difficult, and I am no good at disciplining him. I’m willing to try anything, but I won’t have him mistreated.”
“I’d not hurt him, Mrs. Kahler.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief for her. She took it and offered a faint smile, giving him the courage to continue. “I can’t move into my new home until the end of the week—”
“Both of them can stay at the parsonage until then,” the reverend said. “And Travis can start Zack’s schooling right away.”
Travis wondered exactly what he’d gotten himself into. Granted, he had nephews, and he knew what the Bible said about raising children, but he didn’t know where to begin with a rebellious, half-grown man. At least he could turn to the reverend and the boy’s uncles for insight into what his relationship had been with his father. Zack didn’t have respect for others, least of all himself. Oh, but the Lord had gotten him into a fine mess.
A leaded silence filled the small office while the sheriff unlocked the cell. Travis met the reverend’s gaze. He saw frustration and worry etched on the older man’s face. No point in letting the reverend see his own misgivings about handling Zack. Of course, most folks thought Travis was older because of his bushy hair and beard.
“I’ll stop by the school and inform his teacher,” Mrs. Kahler said.
“Thank you, ma’am. I promise to do a good job with his schooling.”
“I won’t stay with that ugly, do-gooder preacher.” Zack shoved his hands inside his suspenders. “Let me come home, and I’ll be better.”
Travis listened to Zack attempt to manipulate his mother. He had to admit the boy knew what to say and how to say it.
“You don’t care for me at all, do you?” Zack said. “You’re kicking me out.”
“I believe you ran away,” she said.
“Ever since Papa died, all you care about is yourself. Now that I’m in a little trouble, you don’t want me anymore.” Zack clenched his fists and took a step toward his mother, but Travis stood between them.
“Zack, calm down. Beginning this moment, you won’t be talking to your mother this way.”
“Amen,” Morgan said. “Good luck, Brother Travis. I’m tired of dealing with him.”
The boy’s eyes blazed with anger—anger that must have been brewing for more than two years. “Good. Mama’s a bad mother, and the rest of you just want to get rid of me.”
Mrs. Kahler touched his shoulder, but he shrugged her off. “There’s no need to cite my faults. I know what they are. But above all things, I am still your mother. Say and think about me as you will, but the real truth is I love you. It would be easy to take you home and hire a tutor and go on about our business as though nothing has happened, but that wouldn’t do you a bit of good. I’ve allowed you to become wild and a bully. But it’s all out of my hands at this point. Brother Travis has offered to help, and I’m consenting to it. In the meantime, I’m asking Morgan and Grant to find a military school. The future is up to you. You can learn how to behave, or you can continue as you are and face the consequences of an undisciplined life.”
A deafening silence permeated the room. She turned to Travis, her chin lifted high. “I will not attempt to see my son until he wants to see me or you tell me the time is right. I’ll have one of the hands bring his clothes. I—I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” She gathered up her skirts and left the office.
Chapter 8
The house seemed strangely quiet that night at dinner. Michael Paul and Lydia Anne said little even though Juanita had prepared their favorite chicken and dumplings. It was Zack’s favorite too. Bonnie’s bite of dumpling hung in her throat until she sensed she’d be ill. The forlorn looks on the children’s faces told her they weren’t faring much better. She needed to reassure them about their brother but not tell them what might happen if Zack didn’t learn to respect others and himself.
“Will Zack get food while he’s at Brother Whitworth’s?” Lydia Anne said.
“Of course he will,” Michael Paul said a bit gruffly.
Bonnie had to address their worries. “Don’t you want your brother to be nice like he used to be?”
Lydia Anne nodded, but her gaze stayed fixed on her plate. “I don’t remember when Zack was nice all the time. But I miss him.”
“I miss him, too, but unless he learns to have respect for us and mind those who are older and wiser, all of us will be miserable.”
“You mean Zack’s not happy, either?” Michael Paul said.
“What do you think?”
He seemed to ponder her question for a moment. “No, he’s not. What can the new preacher do that’s different?”
“I’m hoping a man of God can help him see where he’s wrong, and in turn, Zack will want to change.”
“Then he’ll come home?” Lydia Anne said.
“Of course. Our family needs to be together.”
“What if Zack likes being miserable?” Michael Paul said. “Will he go to jail?”
A knot tightened in her stomach. She understood that unless Zack found purpose in his life, his future held no hope. “We will simply pray that God is able to reach him.”
“I’m going to pray every night,” Michael Paul said. “Zack hits me and says bad things, but I don’t want him in jail.”
“Me, either,” Lydia Anne said with a dainty shrug. “Sometimes he’s a little nice. Just most times he’s not.”
“When can we visit him?” Michael Paul said.
“Brother Whitworth will let us know.”
Her younger son frowned. “He’s not our father. I don’t think Zack will listen to him. At least I’ll see him at school.”
“Brother Travis is planning to teach Zack.”
Michael Paul stared at her curiously. “Is he already in jail? Zack is going to be real mad. Maybe run away again.”
Bonnie’s heart plummeted. Her threat of military school bannered across her mind, and now she must follow through. If she backed down from this, Zack would never respect her. This was all so very difficult. Even her other children doubted Brother Travis could make a difference.
*****
Travis shared dinner with the reverend and Mrs. Rainer without Zack. The boy had cursed in the presence of his grandparents, and Travis had ordered him to his room without the benefit of a meal. The boy had simply grown angrier.
“You did the right thing,” the reverend said at dinner. “I wanted to take him out behind the woodshed.”
“Not as badly as I did,” Mrs. Rainer said. “Where on earth did he learn those words?”
“Maybe the ranch hands,” the reverend said. “Hard to say. May have pi
cked them up at school.”
“You took on a big job with our grandson.” Mrs. Rainer leaned in closer to the table. “Morgan and Grant had their rebellious moments, as most boys do. But neither of them compared to the ugliness I see in Zack.”
Travis wondered if he’d lost some of his God-given good sense to try to help Zack. But the boy despised him, and his actions could cause a preacher to lose his faith.
“I’m sure God will give me direction,” Travis said.
“More like a coat of armor.” The reverend half chuckled. “Seriously, he didn’t used to be this way.”
Travis nodded. “Pretty close to his father?”
“They did everything together,” the reverend said. “Zack didn’t cry at the funeral and has been like this ever since.”
Mrs. Rainer dabbed at her eyes. “Bonnie lost her papa at his age, too. I feel sorry for Zack, but he’s shutting us all out from his life. I pray military school won’t be necessary. Then I’m afraid we’ll lose him for good.”
“I’m not familiar with any to recommend, and,” Travis paused to carefully form his words, “I’m not family. My intentions are not to interfere but to help.” He hesitated. “Since Zack lost his father, I really don’t want to see him lose the rest of his family, too.”
“I agree,” the reverend said. “The problem is if he doesn’t learn to control his temper, Michael Paul, Lydia Anne, and Bonnie will not be safe. Sure glad Morgan settled the problem with the saddle. For once, Zack might have told the truth.”
Travis silently agreed. He started to apologize for continuing an unpleasant topic during dinner, but someone knocked at the door.
Mrs. Rainer excused herself to answer it. Most likely she was pleased not to discuss her grandson’s wild ways.
“Evenin’, Grant. Are you alone?”
“Yes, just me, Mama.”
“How about some coffee and pie?”
“Sounds good. I need to talk to the reverend and Brother Travis.”
“You can do both.”
While greetings were made and pie and coffee served, Travis noted that Grant resembled his mother with light coloring, although his hair was darker than hers and Mrs. Kahler’s. Worry lines furrowed Grant’s forehead.