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The Thanksgiving Day Bride: Mail Order Bride Novels

Page 27

by Sandee Keegan


  Roger walked to the opening, knelt down, pushed away a pile of snow, and looked in. “Ain't nothing down there but dirt,” he said and glanced up at Rhonda's rosy red cheeks.

  “Have faith,” Rhonda said.

  “I have faith in Jesus, not gold,” Roger answered. Standing up, he walked to Rhonda and looked her deep in the eyes. “If we go into that mine, we could die. I ain't much afraid to die, Ms. Dandleton. What about you?”

  Rogers’s words threw Rhonda off guard. She had never thought about dying before. “I...well, I mean, I guess we go to a better place.”

  Roger shook his head. “I ain't going into that mine unless you tell me that you love Jesus and stop being so stubborn.”

  “Mr. Steward, I...” Rhonda tried to speak. Feeling her cheeks flush with anger, she turned away from Roger and folded her arms together. “My mother died of cancer, okay,” she said in a hurt voice. “After that, my faith in a loving Savior diminished. How could Jesus take away my mother? So please don't ask me to run to Him with open arms.”

  Roger gently approached Rhonda and put his left hand on her tender shoulder. Heavy snow was falling, covering the land with a white beauty that seemed soft and welcoming rather than deadly and cold. “I sure wasn't there when Jesus died on the cross for my sins, that's for sure.”

  “What?” Rhonda asked spinning around and looking Roger in his face.

  Roger took off his hat with his left hand. “Jesus died so we could have eternal life. I'm sure sorry your mother died, but thank goodness Jesus died for us because if he didn't your mother wouldn't be alive as we stand here and talk. Because Jesus died for us, you're gonna be with your mother someday again. Don't make no sense to be mad at Him for giving us that grand gift, does it?”

  Rhonda stared into Roger's honest face. As she did, all of the anger and hurt she had tied up in her heart over the years concerning her mother’s death began to melt away. Slowly, tears began to stream from her eyes. “I...never thought of it like that before,” she said.

  Roger put his hat back on, reached out his left hand, and wiped Rhonda's tears away. “That's why we're just human,” he said in a gentle voice. “Jesus, He's the Son of God.”

  Rhonda placed her head down on Roger's shoulder and began to cry. Why was she crying? Why was she opening her heart to a man she barely knew? Why was she hurting for Jesus when she wanted to be angry at Him for taking away her mother? She didn't know. All she knew was suddenly her heart was breaking. “Goodness,” she cried, “I'm a mess.”

  Roger wrapped his arm around Rhonda and smiled. “Seems to me that your heart is just fussing with itself and--” Roger stopped talking. He jerked up his head and studied the snow-covered land. “Inside,” he told Rhonda. Before Rhonda could reply, Roger had grabbed her arm and pulled the down into the mind through the small opening of earth. The opening was tight, but she managed to fit through.

  “What is it?” Rhonda finally managed to ask, standing on cold dirt. Behind her a mouth of darkness opened up, leading down into the earth and stopping where Roger's Pa had died in a deadly cave-in.

  Roger peered out of the opening. “It's Mintfield,” he said in a serious voice.

  “Hey boy,” Steve called out from behind a boulder, “I know you're in there with that woman. If you want to live, come on out.”

  Rhonda looked behind her. All she saw was icy darkness. Yet, through the darkness, she saw Jesus dying in order to give her life. “Oh Jesus,” she whispered, “I'm so sorry...please forgive me for being angry. I love you...and I need you. Please...be our victory. But even if I die, my heart is yours now and forever. I promise.”

  “They ain't nothing in this mine but dirt,” Roger yelled at Steve. “My Pa found nothing but a few scraps.”

  “So it seemed,” Steve yelled back and nodded at a group of men to get into good firing positions, “but if that's so, why is the Andrews and Callahan Mining Company been sniffing around this part of the land?”

  “Ain't no one been on my land,” Roger told Steve.

  Steve aimed the rifle in his hand at the small opening. “Listen, boy, I don't want to kill you. If you come out peacefully, I'll let you and that woman live. All I want is the mine and the gold that could be in there. I'm not lying to you when I saw a man from the Andrews and Callahan Mining Company has been sniffing around.”

  Roger studied the snow-covered land. He knew which boulder Steve was hiding behind. He also knew Steve had at least ten men with him, all secured behind solid firing positions that he couldn't reach. “So you want to sell this mine to them, is that it?” Roger asked and looked over his shoulder at Rhonda with worried eyes. “We're going to have to fight our way out of here.”

  Rhonda touched Roger's shoulder with a loving hand. “Jesus will get us out of here, wait and see. And when he does, we're going to get married.”

  “Married?” Roger asked shocked. For a moment he forgot all about the danger perched outside. “Why would you want to marry a poor fella like me who can't even read or write?”

  “You have more riches in your heart that any man I have ever known,” Rhonda promised Roger with all of her heart. “I can teach anyone to read or write, and someday you will learn to read and write…but you can't teach someone to have an honest heart. All I ever wanted was to love and be loved... And now, that moment has arrived for me. I can see now that Jesus brought me to you. Can you trust in faith, too?”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Roger leaned forward in the darkness, gently kissed Rhonda, and smiled. “I sure can,” he said. Turning back to the opening he focused back on Steve. “We're not coming out without a fight, Mintfield.”

  Steve groaned to himself. “We have you out manned and out gunned out here, boy. We can't wait you out while your freeze to death. Or maybe I might have one of my men toss a few sticks of dynamite at you, huh? Sure, that will be just fine. We can always dig out your bodies.”

  Rhonda grabbed Roger's shoulder. “Oh dear,” she said worriedly and then steadied herself. “No, my faith is in Jesus.”

  Roger closed his eyes and prayed. “Dear Jesus, show your greatness and power,” he prayed. “Amen.”

  Steve studied the small opening with vicious eyes. He didn't want to kill Roger. His intention of not harming a son belonging to the woman he once loved weighed heavy in his chest. “Boy, listen to me, I don't want to hurt you. Just come on out and go back to that shack of yours. I'll have one of my men bring you a fair price for your land and then you can go about your way. We can end this peacefully.”

  “My Pa taught me to fight for what is mine, Mintfield,” Roger called out. “I guess you're going to have to bury me and Ms. Dandleton next to my folks.”

  Steve bit down on his lower lip and then pushed any thoughts of mercy out of his mind. “Get his attentions, boys,” he yelled.

  The men with Steve nodded their heads and began firing at the small opening. Roger grabbed Rhonda and pulled her down onto the cold dirt. When the bullets stopped, he leaned up and looked out. “I'm not wasting my bullets, Mintfield. You better start using that dynamite if you want to get me out of here.”

  “I ain't got no blasted dynamite,” Steve growled under his breath. Thinking, he studied the small opening. How was he get going to get Roger out of the mine?

  Roger examined the outside. As he did, a voice came spoke from within the darkness. Startled, he spun around. Rhonda grabbed his arm. “Who is there?” she asked in a scared voice.

  “Leave now,” a voice filled with love and life spoke. “Leave now.” And then, the voice left. Rhonda felt the voice leave the mine as if a real person had been present.

  “Last chance, boy!” Steve yelled. “I can go get dynamite.”

  Roger drew in a deep breath and looked at Rhonda. “Okay?” he asked.

  Rhonda nodded her head. “Okay,” she agreed.

  “We're coming out Mintfield, hold your fire,” Roger called out.

  Steve waved at his hired men. “Hold your fire,” he said and watched St
eve help Rhonda crawl out of the small opening. “The mine is all yours,” he said in a loud voice.

  Steve stood up from behind the boulder. Nodding his head, he walked into the clearing. “I'm glad you finally came to your senses, boy. Now get out of here. I'll keep my word and send you a fair price.”

  “Keep your money,” Roger told Steve staring him straight in the eyes. “I have all the riches I need right here,” he said and took Rhonda's hand.

  “I wouldn't go into that mine,” Rhonda warned Steve. “If you do, you'll die.”

  “Get out of here,” Steve snapped at Rhonda and ordered his men into the clearing. “Alright boys, let's get in there and see what we can find.”

  Roger backed Rhonda up to the boulder Steve had been hiding behind. Together they watched Steve crawl down into the mine and then watched his hired men follow, one by one, each carrying either a shovel, a lantern or some rope. “What do we do?” Rhonda asked Roger as the snow continued to fall and cover the land.

  “Wait,” Roger replied and hugged Rhonda close to his body. “Jesus knows what He's doing.”

  Rhonda grew silent and stared at the small opening. Warm in Roger's arms, she waited. An hour passed. And then, just when she thought she could stand the cold no longer, a horrible, loud, ground-shaking explosion occurred from within the mine. Dirt and dust exploded out of the small opening. Roger threw his left hand over Rhonda's face. “Cave in,” he yelled.

  Rhonda closed her eyes and held them shut until the wind carried away all the dust and dirt in the air. “Are they...dead?”

  Roger nodded his head. “I think so,” he said and walked Rhonda back toward his shack without saying another word.

  <<<<<>>>>>

  A middle-aged man wearing a fancy gray suit closed a black briefcase sitting on the kitchen table and stood up. “You have made a very wise decision,” he said.

  Roger stood up. “I think so, Mr. Griffith.”

  “Mr. Andrews and Mr. Callahan will be very pleased to hear the news,” Mr. Griffith said in a pleased voice. “And with the money, they have offered for your land, you should be able to relocate and begin a very nice life.”

  Rhonda stood up from the kitchen table and smiled at Mr. Griffith. “My husband and I are relocating and will be very happy,” she assured him. “Please, won't you have one more cup of coffee before you leave?”

  “Oh no, it's such a beautiful, warm, day outside,” Mr. Griffith said. “I think I will take a walk around the land before going back into town. Would that be okay?”

  “It's your land,” Roger said in a voice that didn't appear sad. “You promised to leave the family graves be, though.”

  “I assured you that your family grave site will be treated with respect and honor and that full acre have been optioned off to secure that no disturbance occurs,” Mr. Griffith promised Roger.

  Roger nodded his head and shook Mr. Griffith's hand. “Give your wife our best.”

  “And please, come and visit us in Sacramento,” Rhonda pleaded.

  “I will,” Mr. Griffith smiled. “My wife would be very pleased to meet the both of you. Good day.”

  Rhonda and Roger walked Mr. Griffith to the door of the shack and watched him leave. “Well,” Rhonda smiled, “You're a very rich man, Mr. Steward. Whatever will you do with a poor wife like myself?”

  Roger put his arm around Rhonda and sweetly kissed her. “I'm not sure what I'm gonna do in Sacramento, but if that's where you want to start a family, I'll be there. And I guess there's a few dress shops there that might interest you while we wait for our first child to be born.”

  “Perhaps,” Rhonda smiled and then spotted a horse buggy pulling up. She saw her brother sitting next to Paul Smith. “Now remember,” she told Roger, “my brother is going to fuss a little, but he's harmless.”

  Roger watched Paul pull up to his shack. When he saw Andrew climb down from the buggy, he knew everything was going to be alright. He had a way about people. “Okay.”

  Andrew walked up to the door of the shack and stopped. When he saw Rhonda step out wearing a lovely yellow dress and glowing more beautifully than he had ever seen in his life, he simply smiled. “I sent you out here for a story, not to find a husband.”

  Rhonda took Roger's hand and pulled him outside into a day full of warm, fresh air and beautiful land. “Andrew, this is Roger Steward, my husband.”

  Roger stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Andrew shook Roger's hand. “Yeah,” he said and grinned, “seems that you and I have a lot to talk about. But first, I'm starving. You guys got anything to eat?”

  “Sure do,” Roger smiled and walked Andrew inside.

  “Well,” Paul said walking up to Rhonda, “I never thought I'd see the day when Roger Steward would sit in my dining room having dinner with a beautiful woman and read a book.”

  Rhonda beamed. “Well,” she told Paul, “Jesus has a way of things, doesn't He? Now, come inside and eat some stew. I also made some fresh pie.”

  Paul looked down at his stomach. “I don't mind if I do,” he said and winked at Rhonda.

  Rhonda smiled and watched Paul walk into the shack. Before going inside herself, she glanced up at clear blue sky holding a kind sun. “Jesus,” she said with love, “please know that my heart belongs to you first. My journey is just beginning, and I beg you to guide my heart and my way and let me be a good wife to my husband and a good mother to the child living inside of me right now. Please let me never forget that it was your voice in the darkness that spoke light into my heart. I love you. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Roger whispered from behind Rhonda. Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her.

  Rhonda wrapped her arms around her husband and placed her head against his chest. Closing her eyes, she saw heard a loving voice speak through the darkness. She saw love and mercy showered down from Heaven and justice poured out on the guilty. And why? Because Jesus was love and was now allowing her to love and be loved herself. “Roger?”

  “Yes?”

  “Let's go eat some pie,” she smiled brightly. “This is the greatest story of my life.”

  THE END

  Nola’s Western Romance

  Chapter 1

  Oh Boy

  I walloped Mitch with a mighty hand. Yes sir, I sure did. Mitch deserved to be walloped a good one, too. Who was that scoundrel to laugh at me, anyway? That varmint was nothing more than a lazy, ugly, smelly, waste of flesh that hung around my bakery all day trying to convince me that he would make a good husband. “Out!” I yelled and grabbed a broom.

  Mitch, who was now sitting on his bum rubbing his red face, looked up at me with shock and fear. “All I said was that you shouldn't oughta being moving west, Nola, that's all. Golly, why'd you hit me so hard?”

  “You laughed at me,” I scolded Mitch and brushed at him with the broom. My bakery was boiling hot and my face was swimming in sweat, dripping down onto the pink dress I was wearing. It was quite unladylike.

  Mitch continued to rub his face. He looked like a scalded raccoon wearing a pair of old, worn out blue overalls. I guessed I felt sorry for him, in some way or another, but I couldn't tolerate a lazy man. No sir. I wanted a man who knew how to work hard and think smart

  “I didn't mean to laugh, honest, Nola,” he said again, pitifully.

  “Out!” I ordered Mitch and swept him up to his feet. “And don't be coming back to my bakery until you learn how to respect a woman properly, you smelly farm animal.”

  Mitch eased back toward the front door, keeping his arms extended out in front of him to block my broom. His bare feet scuffled across my clean floor nervous and anxious to make a clean run for it. “I just took a bath last week, Nola, honest.”

  “Take another one,” I snapped in disgust and swept Mitch out onto the front walk. As I did, Judge Green walked up, studied Mitch, studied my broom, and then shook his head. “Not a word,” I warned.

  Judge Green rubbed his thick gray mustache with amused
fingers and then glanced up into a bright, blue, sky so clear that it seemed like Heaven might be melting onto the earth somehow. Sitting in the middle of the sky was a blazing sun, nearly bright enough to blind you. There was no breeze and the humidity was enough to soak the clothes on your back. “You're Pa around, Nola?”

  “Does it look like Pa is foolish enough to be out walking in this heat?” I asked Judge Green, with more sass than was really necessary.

  Judge Green smiled and continued to stare up into the sky. “The heat has never bothered me. I enjoy it, actually.”

  Mitch stared at Judge Green like the man was crazy. How could a man be wearing a full gray suit, a gray hat and gray mustache on a blistering day right in the middle of July? “Why do you want to see Nola's Pa?” Mitch asked Judge Green.

  “Mind your own business,” I fussed at Mitch. With hot, impatient hands, I reached up and attempted to make my sweaty red hair appear as presentable as possible. No sense in looking a mess in front of a man who had saved my Pa from a rope in his younger days. “Want to come inside to my bakery? I have some fresh bread ready. It's mighty hot in there, but it sure ain't no better out here.”

  Judge Green looked down at me and frowned. “Nola, dear, for a woman beautiful enough to conquer the hearts of an army of men, you lack grace.”

  “I ain't got no time for grace,” I told Judge Green in a firm voice. I also didn't have time for another lecture on how to become more ladylike, either. I knew Judge Green meant well, but I sure didn't look forward to his scolding. I was a twenty-three-year-old woman who had to get her bread baked and her bags packed. “Pa will be coming by after supper. You can come back then if you wish to see him.”

  Judge Green sighed. “I came by with the hopes of convincing your Pa to change your mind, Nola. What sense is there in traveling to the Nevada Territory? Why you have no family out there; your Pa is the only family you have. The people of Pine Green are your family. Please, reconsider such a foolish and hasty decision and stay home where you belong.”

 

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