by Trinity Ford
“Picking back up now that the meat processing plant’s expanding,” Billy answered.
“Well, that’s great news,” John said. He spotted Doc sitting at the bar, eating. “Want me to grab another panther to keep you busy, Doc?” he joked.
“No, thanks,” Doc said, taking a swig of his water. “Had enough of that mess.” Just then, a young man burst through the doors and ran up to the doctor.
“Millie sent me!” he said, gasping for breath. “Sarah’s having a real hard time—can’t stop the bleeding!”
Doc grabbed his bag and tossed some money onto the bar. He rushed out without saying goodbye to anyone. John felt bad for Sarah. She’d come to Fort Worth with her husband, Timothy, to help settle the community, and no sooner had they arrived than he died in an accident on the rail where he worked. She was already eight-and-a-half months pregnant and had no family, no money, and now—no husband. The congregation had rallied around her, of course, taking care of all her needs.
John walked around the Acre for a few hours, checking in on the locals. Some were regulars, and a few from faraway places. He liked to hear about their travels—reminded him of his days as a Ranger. He walked down to Kitty’s and asked about another young girl he’d given money to a few months back—hoping to save her from the same fate as Nellie Watkins. “She up and left me,” Kitty said. “Ungrateful. Must have been holding out on me, too, because she hopped a train back to her home in Virginia. Now where’d she get the money for that?”
John smiled, knowing his generosity had helped one girl get out of the Acre and start her life over. Just like his Millie, who’d gotten a fresh start for a different reason. “No idea,” John fibbed, not wanting to start a war with the bawd.
As the sun began to rise, John headed home, ready to stop at the top of his favorite hill. He figured Millie might not be home for hours—especially if Sarah was having a hard birth. But coming up over the hill, he saw Millie’s wagon pulled off on the side of the road. Maybe her wheel broke, he thought. He hopped off his horse and tied it to the wagon. “Millie?” he asked, unable to find her sitting outside.
“In here, John,” she said, calling to him from inside the wagon, where she was shielded from his view. He walked around to the back and pushed open the covering. Millie sat nestled in the middle of a quilt, her arms each holding a newborn baby, swaddled in a blanket. “I knew you’d come here first,” she said.
“Millie?” John said, confused. “Why do you have two babies?”
“Oh, John, she didn’t make it,” Millie said, her eyes a sea of tears that were a mixture of sorrow for the loss of the woman’s life and gratitude for the opportunity God had given her to raise babies as her own. “There’s no one to take them.”
John stood there in shock, unable to move or speak. He remembered Rose giving birth to Grace and Anna and holding them the same way. While there was part of him that instantly felt sad being reminded about the loss of his daughters, and now the community’s loss of Sarah, he couldn’t help but allow his heart to swell at the idea of getting to be a dad again. The Lord had truly blessed him—not once, but twice. John climbed up into the back of the wagon and reached out for one of the babies. Millie gently placed the little girl in his hands and he held her up against his chest.
“Are they girls?” he asked.
“One of each,” Millie said. “A boy and a girl.”
“We’ll name her Sarah,” John said, wishing to respect their mother’s sacrifice.
“And Timothy,” Millie added. “For their father.”
John nodded his head in agreement and pulled Millie and the baby boy in close to him. “Thank you, Lord,” he whispered, closing his eyes in prayer as he cradled Millie and the baby in his strong, loving arms. “Thank you for making me whole again.”
Millie rested her head on John’s shoulder, staring into the sweet faces of their precious newborn babies. “John?” she said softly.
“Yes, my love?” he answered.
“What do you think about building a house here on the top of this hill?” she asked. Millie knew that Rose, Grace and Anna used to wait for him here when he came home from work—that this special spot had helped her husband heal after the tragedy.
John looked out of the back of the wagon, the sun rising up over the hillside, now blanketed in dew-covered flowers and tall, green grass. “I think it’s meant to be,” he said as he smiled and turned toward Millie, a single tear running down his face to mark the end of one beautiful life and the beginning of another.
…The End…
I hope you’ve enjoyed story #2 in the Wanted: Wives in the West series.
Story #1: Hannah Saves Samuel
Please visit http://trinityford.com to see what I’m working on.
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xox
Trinity
Special thanks to Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design
www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk