Love Finds You in Bridal Veil, Oregon

by Miralee Ferrell

  Margaret sniffed. “I know. I need to pray about it.” She gave Clara a lopsided smile.

  “Exactly.” She turned and rose to her knees. “Someone’s coming up the trail. It looks like Julius and Hiram. Maybe they’ve found the children!”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Sammie brushed bits of hay off her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair, feeling dirty and unkempt. She had to admit it felt nice living with Miss Margaret and getting to take a bath and wear clean clothes. Too bad that sheriff had to come along and ruin it all.

  “Joel.” She gently shook his shoulder and smoothed the hair off his face. Drool ran down the side of his cheek, and she withdrew a hanky from her pocket and dabbed at it. She loved her big brother with all of her heart.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and squinted up at her. “Time to get up?” He pushed to an elbow and stared around the barn. “What we doin’ here, Sammie? Why aren’t we at Miss Margaret’s?”

  Sammie knelt beside him and patted his arm. “Remember the storm last night, Joel? The angels playing their drums? We went to sleep in this barn.”

  He sat all the way up and kicked the hay off his legs. “Oh, yeah. I remember. Can we eat now?”

  Sammie sighed, suddenly feeling so much older than her thirteen years. She was tired—so very tired of being responsible for everything. Right now she longed to stretch out in a bed with a full stomach and sleep. Or better yet, dress up a real doll in fancy clothes and pretend that she was little again. Mama would be in the other room singing while she fixed breakfast, and Papa would be teasing her and making her laugh. Joel would be playing with his train set in the parlor and begging Papa for a puppy.

  Joel tugged at her arm. “I’m hungry. What we gonna eat?”

  Sammie stood and shook out the folds of her skirt, then reached for Joel’s hand and helped him to his feet. “I’m not sure, but we’ll find something. Come on, we need to get out of here before the owner comes.” She led him from the far corner of the loft to the ladder leading down to the back of the barn.

  They tiptoed across the loft, and she beckoned for Joel to go down the ladder first, holding her finger to her lips. As soon as he was halfway down she started her descent. She’d hit the midway point when Joel reached the bottom, and she saw him jump from the second to last step onto the floor below. “Oww!” Joel rolled onto his back and clutched his ankle, moaning and rocking from side to side. “I hurt my leg. Owww…”

  Sammie scrambled down the rest of the way, fear gripping her stomach and making her legs shake. Joel couldn’t be hurt. Please, God, don’t let anything be broken.

  She knelt beside him and touched his ankle, but he whimpered and pulled it away. “Don’t touch it.” His cry rose to a shriek, and the tears rolled down his pale cheeks.

  “Shh, it’s all right, Joel. Don’t cry. Just rest for a minute and see if it gets better.” She brushed her fingers across his cheeks, trying to still the flow of tears. “Lie there and don’t move.”

  “What’s goin’ on here?” a voice boomed behind Sammie, and she jerked her head around. A large man dressed in overalls and holding a pitchfork towered over them, a grim frown creasing his narrow face. He moved a step closer. “You two tryin’ to steal from me? I won’t have it, I tell you!”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The noon whistle sounded at the mill, and Margaret’s heart skipped a beat. Julius and Hiram had returned after an unsuccessful search, and there’d been no word from Andrew and Grant yet. The thought of Sammie and Joel going hungry for yet another meal pushed aside any desire she’d had to eat. The men had taken a break from working on her roof, and most of them had headed home for dinner, but Nathaniel had stayed. He climbed down now from the ladder propped against the front of her house and wiped his stained hands on his jeans. She mustered a smile. He’d been working so hard to help remove the fallen tree and all the debris.

  “Would you care for a sandwich? I have bread I baked yesterday and some slices of cured ham.”

  “That would be nice, thanks. I’ll get washed up first, then join you, if that’s all right?” He stepped up onto the porch where she’d left a washbasin and earthenware pitcher of water, along with a bar of lye soap.

  As Margaret gathered the supplies she’d need for the meal in the kitchen, the splashing of water in the basin outside came clearly through the open door. There was a funny fluttering in her stomach. What would she say to Nathaniel now that she was alone with him? She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Please, God, help me make wise decisions in my life from now on.

  The clomping of boots headed for the front door alerted Margaret, and she slipped the sandwich onto a plate, setting it on the table. Nathaniel hesitated after crossing the threshold. “I washed—but I’m not too clean otherwise. Afraid my clothes might have pitch on them from climbing up that tree. Want me to sit outside and eat?”

  “The chairs are wood, and the pitch will wipe off easily, so no need to worry.” She drew the chair away from the table and beckoned him to sit. “Would you care for milk or coffee? I have a fresh gallon from the dairy outside of town, and the coffee is hot.”

  “Coffee is fine, thanks.” He slid into the chair and picked up one of the sandwiches, lifting it to his mouth and taking a large bite. After chewing and swallowing, he raised his brows. “How about you? Aren’t you going to have something to eat?”

  Margaret set a mug of coffee next to his plate, then slipped into the chair across from him holding her own. “I’m not especially hungry.” She shrugged. “I’m sure my appetite will return after Sammie and Joel come home.”

  Nathaniel’s eyes widened. “Home? You’re going to continue to allow them to live here after the trouble they’ve caused?”

  Margaret clutched the mug tighter. What was wrong with Nathaniel? Anytime the subject of the children came up, he seemed antagonistic. Not wanting to get into an argument with him, she chose her words carefully. “They’re simply frightened children, Nathaniel. They haven’t intentionally caused trouble, and they’ve not done anything wrong. Besides, they don’t have anywhere else to go right now.”

  He cocked his head toward her. “You always were a soft touch whenever someone had a need.”

  “Maybe so, but I can’t just abandon them. Julius is asking around amongst some of the out-of-town teamsters to see if anyone’s heard anything about two runaway children. I’m not sure what else to do.”

  “Why not turn them over to the sheriff? That seems like the sensible thing to do. He can figure out where they ran away from and take them back.” Nathaniel chomped down on another big bite of his sandwich and chewed.

  Margaret stiffened, not bothering to hide her growing frustration this time. “I wouldn’t think of doing that, Nathaniel, and I can’t believe you’d suggest it.”

  He looked up as if startled at her rebuke.

  She went on. “Sammie’s made it clear she ran away because they were frightened of the person they lived with. Why do you think she took Joel and ran again this time?”

  He shrugged and frowned, then took a sip of coffee. “Haven’t really thought about it much. Guess I figured they were just being kids and took off without thinking.”

  “No. They ran because she thinks the sheriff wants to question Joel about Martin Jenkins’ death, and they’ll lock him up, or send him back where he came from.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

  Nathaniel hesitated, then softened his tone. “Well, what if he did have something to do with it? You could be harboring a murderer, Margaret. Have you thought of that? Of your own safety?”

  “You don’t understand, and obviously you don’t care about either of them.” Margaret bit off the words.

  She pushed her chair back and grabbed her mug, whirling to dump the remaining contents into the sink and pumping the handle to rinse the grounds out of the bottom. Nathaniel’s chair legs scraped the floor, making a screeching sound that resounded inside Margaret—the same type of noise she felt li
ke making right now out of frustration at this unyielding man sitting in her kitchen.

  He walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently turning her around to face him. “Margaret?”

  She kept her eyes down, battling against the warring emotions evoked by the touch of his hand and the words he’d just spoken. His finger touched her chin lightly, and she raised her face. “What?” Her body began to tremble, and she took a step back, bumping into the sink. “Please don’t touch me, Nathaniel.” Her mind flashed back to when she was sixteen and she could think of nothing but him.

  He drew back a step and shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “About everything. Your cabin being damaged, the children running away, my upsetting you.” He caught her gaze again, though, and she saw the steel in his eyes. “But I truly do believe you need to let the sheriff take charge. Maybe your heart is overriding your common sense. That boy could be dangerous. I don’t want you hurt next.”

  Margaret didn’t care to hear more. She brushed past him and headed toward the front door. “Thank you for your concern, Nathaniel,” she called back, “but Joel isn’t the least bit dangerous. I’m going to stay outside so I can watch for them, if you don’t mind.”

  She opened the door and walked out into the fresh air and sunshine, working to push down her irritation. Nathaniel meant well, she was sure, but he wouldn’t listen. She knew Joel wasn’t a threat to anyone, and sending those two back to where they’d come from would be a huge mistake. Sammie would find a way to run away again, and this time she might not find a place as hospitable to hide. Margaret wrapped her arms around her sides and shivered, remembering the hobos following the girl into the woods.

  A shout from the trail jerked her head up. It sounded like Julius. Hiram had stayed to help with the roof, but Julius had headed to Art’s house to see if he was back. Seven figures came into sight, with Julius in the lead. Art Gibbs had returned, and trailing behind him was Joel, limping along with Buck leaping at his side. Sammie, head cast down and face sullen, came just behind. Margaret couldn’t quite make out who the next man was, but Andrew and Grant brought up the rear.

  Joy exploded inside. Margaret grasped her skirt and lifted it, jumping off the porch and dashing up the path to meet the group. “Sammie, Joel!” She opened her arms and Sammie flew into them, stifling a sob. Joel stood with a happy grin, his hand still patting Buck’s head. “I was so worried about you. Are you both all right?”

  Sammie raised tear-swollen eyes and hiccupped. “Joel twisted his ankle, but we’re all right.” She swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks. “They’re going to take Joel away, aren’t they, Miss Margaret? The sheriff, I mean? I heard him saying he wanted to talk to Joel, and I can’t let anything happen to him. I just can’t!” Her eyes filled with fresh tears and she started to cry in earnest, her slender shoulders shaking with her sobs.

  Andrew stepped up beside her and squatted down, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “We talked about this, remember, honey? We’ll do everything we can to help you and your brother. None of us believe Joel would hurt anyone, and we’ll tell the sheriff that, but you can’t keep running away. You scared Miss Margaret, and both of you could have been hurt. We don’t want some hobo trying to run off with you again, do we?”

  She shook her head and sniffled. “I didn’t think. I just got scared, and we left in a hurry. I didn’t take any food or a blanket or anything. Joel got hungry, and we had to huddle under the hay to sleep.”

  Margaret leaned over and ran a finger down the young girl’s cheek, wiping away some of the moisture. “Let’s get you inside and find you something to eat. You both must be starving.”

  Andrew stood and held up his hand. “No, Fritz here”—he nodded at the silent man standing back from the group—“fed them at his place.”

  Margaret nodded at the man. “Mr. Luscher, it’s good to see you. You took the children in?”

  “Ya, they slept in my barn last night, and I found ’em this mornin’. Thought they come to steal milk and eggs, but then I realized they were just hungry.” He hefted a burlap sack over his shoulder and set it on the ground, then hitched at his trousers held up by heavy suspenders. “Brought you some things since you’ve got extra mouths to feed.” He nodded at Joel and grinned. “This one likes his vittles, that he does. Methinks you could use extra milk, and the missus sent some smoked and fresh salmon, as well.”

  “How generous of you—please thank Anna for me. Won’t all of you come in?” Margaret turned toward the cabin and beckoned them forward.

  Julius lifted his hat and scratched his head. “No, ma’am, I reckon not. Now that the young’uns be safe, I got to take care o’ my mules. The girls get downright cranky this time of day if they aren’t brushed proper and fed their grain. Don’t want them feelin’ neglected, no sir.”

  Andrew clapped the slender man on the shoulder. “Thanks for all your help today, Julius. You’re a true friend.”

  “No trouble a’tall. Anytime you folks needs anythin’, just holler.” He plopped his hat back on his thinning hair and grinned. “You kids take care now, and don’t be causin’ Miss Margaret no more worry.” He ruffled Joel’s hair and grinned at Samantha. “You’re both right good young’uns, and I hope you’ll come see me and my mules sometime.”

  Joel tore his attention away from the dog and lifted eager eyes to Julius. “Could I ride one? Would they let me?”

  “Sorry, son, I’m afraid not. They don’t cotton to ridin’, just pullin’ things. But you can come pet them and feed them carrots if you’d like.”

  “Oh, boy! Thank you, Mr. Jules.”

  Sammie mustered her first smile. “It’s Mr. Julius, Joel.” She nodded and held out her hand. “Thank you for helping us, and we’d like to come pet your mules someday.”

  Julius’s smile-wreathed face grew serious, and he gripped the small hand with his large one, holding it for a moment. “I’ll look forward to that, little missy. You take care, now.” He turned to Andrew. “I’ll be back later and help finish up that roof, once I check on my girls.”

  Art Gibbs knelt down beside Joel and stroked Buck’s head. “I need to take this fella home and feed him, Joel. How about I come over and check on you later?”

  Joel’s anxious look brightened at the final words. “You’ll bring Buck with you, Mr. Art?”

  “I will, if Miss Margaret doesn’t mind if we stop by.” He lifted his eyebrows at Margaret and smiled.

  “Of course not. You’re always welcome.”

  Art nodded, then grasped the dog’s collar and headed up the trail toward home, Julius striding along beside them, whistling as he disappeared around the bend.

  Andrew reached out a hand toward Sammie and Joel. “Let’s head to the house and get cleaned up, shall we?” He gave a small nod toward Fritz. “I’ll leave you to chat with Miss Margaret for a moment. Thank you again, Fritz.”

  Mr. Luscher hefted the bag onto his shoulder and nodded toward the cabin. “I’ll take this inside for you, Miss Garvey, and on my way I’ll be. Still got my own chores to do, and milking later this evenin’.”

  Margaret laid a hand on his arm and dropped her voice. “Thank you, Mr. Luscher. You have no idea how grateful I am that you cared for the children.”

  “I think they been stayin’ in my barn loft, from the look of things. Poor mites, I scared them plumb bad when I came around the corner of a stall with my pitchfork. Thought I was goin’ to hurt ’em, they did, but I’d never lay a hand on a child.” He shook his head and smiled. “That little girl, a tiger she is. When she saw me with my fork, she jumped in front of her big brother and out flew her arms. I knew right then they weren’t up to mischief. Sorry I am that I scared them.”

  “Sammie’s very protective of Joel. I’m thankful you found them when you did.”

  He hiked the bag a little higher on his shoulder and moved toward the cabin. “I think they was headin’ out when I found ’em. They’d just come dow
n the ladder and close to the back door they were. Reckon another few minutes and a’missed ’em, I would. Guess the good Lord must a’been watchin’ out for ’em.”

  Margaret nodded as she strode along beside him. “I think He has been since they arrived here, and I’m guessing He’ll continue if I can just keep trusting Him.”

  “Ah, I think He’ll keep on even if you struggle to trust Him. God’s pretty big, you know, and He don’t need our permission to care for those we love.”

  She hung her head, suddenly ashamed of the way she’d sounded. How right Mr. Luscher was—God didn’t need her trust to do what He knew was right. What a fool she’d been. God had been watching out for the children all along—on the train, when the hobos chased Sammie, when they ran the first time, and now. Even in bringing them to Art Gibbs’ house, and then on to hers.

  God knew what He was doing, and all her fear and worry didn’t change what His plans were for Sammie and Joel. Sure, she needed to trust Him and not allow worry to pull her down, but God was bigger than all the anxiety she could muster. She lifted her head and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Luscher—for the food and for bringing the children home, but mostly for the reminder that God is in control.”

  “Ya, you’re welcome, Miss Garvey. Glad I am to help on all accounts.” He hefted the bag onto the porch.

  Sammie and Joel had already darted inside, but Andrew still stood out in front of the porch. Margaret smiled at him.

  Then her smile faltered. Nathaniel leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed, staring at Andrew’s smiling gaze locked on hers. A frown drew down the corners of Nathaniel’s mouth as he swung his attention to her.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Matilda Stedman wiped her floury hands on her already grubby apron and scowled. She hated cleaning the kitchen even worse than she hated cooking. Why hadn’t Wallace tried harder to find those kids, instead of hightailing it home when his feet started hurting? The boy had never been much for sticking to anything, so guess there was no reason to expect him to do it this time, either. Grabbing a dirty cast-iron skillet, she gave it a couple of half-hearted swipes, then set it aside. Good enough.