Road To Forgiveness

by Cox, Carol

  Burke fixed him with a glare. “I can’t run a ranch and chase after thieves at the same time. Tracking these crooks down is what we’re paying you for, and I say you’re showing a pretty poor return on the wages you’ve been drawing.”

  Easy. Don’t let him get to you. Jacob paused to draw a long breath and took his time forming a response. “Then instead of criticizing, why not help me do my job? Do you have any more ideas who may be behind this?” He watched Burke closely. “Anyone who might hold a grudge from the past? Someone who wants to get back at you, for whatever reason?” The list must be a mile long.

  “I’ve never done anything to anybody, nothing that would be worth this, anyway.” Burke set his lips in a thin line. “You seem to be mighty interested in what I may or may not have done. Suppose you tell me what you’ve been doing to earn your pay?”

  Jacob drew himself up. “I’m on my way over to check out a new rancher in the Clarkdale area, see if he can account for all his stock.”

  “Don’t waste your time harassing the other ranchers. They’re a hard-working lot, all of them. If you’re set on checking out newcomers, you ought to take a look at that batch of nesters back up in the foothills. All this started since they came here a few months back.”

  Burke spat on the ground and continued. “It wouldn’t surprise me if the reason you can’t find traces of any stock being moved is because they’ve been hiding them all back in the hills, trying to build a herd without having to buy foundation stock. Go see what you can find up their way, if you want to do something worthwhile. It’s what I’d do. . .and what you’d be doing if you had a lick of sense.”

  Jacob felt his body go rigid. “I’ll check into it. It would sure be hard for them to explain having cattle, though, if they didn’t bring any with them when they came.”

  Burke scrubbed his hand through his wiry thatch of salt-and-pepper hair. “It’s not your job to second-guess what will happen before you even go out there. You’re supposed to get out and get to work and find these no-goods who are robbing me blind. Now get out there and do your job before I decide to find a rope and take care of things myself.”

  “Animals can be replaced,” Jacob said. “You can’t say the same for a man’s life.”

  Burke tucked his head down between his shoulders, looking like a bull about to charge. “Someone has decided to help themselves to what I’ve worked for all my life. I wouldn’t lose a bit of sleep over stringing up anyone who’d stoop that low. Those are my animals, my livelihood. I’m the one who worked night and day all these years. You have no right to tell me how I ought to feel.”

  “You may be right about that,” Jacob admitted. “I won’t try to tell you I know how you feel. But I do know what the Bible says about forgiveness. ‘If ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.’ I know that if you harbor unforgiveness in your heart, it will do you more harm than the person you’re holding a grudge against.

  “Forgiveness is God’s way,” Jacob went on. “Maybe you ought to try it. You’ll sleep better at night than you would if you went out and lynched a man.”

  Burke’s face turned as red as a brick. “The Bible also says God owns the cattle on a thousand hills. I don’t have nearly that many, and it’s getting less all the time. That kind of talk is fine for someone who hasn’t gone through what I have, but I’m the one who’s about to lose my livelihood. If you want to do something to spare a few miserable lives, you better get out there and catch those thieves before I do. Now I suggest you quit wagging your jaw and go get busy.” With a low grunt, he turned and strode off toward the barn.

  Jacob took his time tightening his cinch and scanned the front windows again. Still no sign of Hallie. He contemplated walking right up those porch steps and knocking on the front door like any normal suitor, but thought better of that plan. Burke’s demeanor left Jacob in no doubt of the man’s probable response to making a social call on his daughter.

  He cast one last look at the house. His heart doubled its pace when he saw the edge of the curtain inch back.

  Hallie peered out of the narrow opening and fluttered her fingers in a tiny wave. She mouthed something, but Jacob couldn’t understand what she was trying to say.

  He shot a glance toward the barn and saw Burke watching him from the doorway. As casually as he could, he made a show of checking his cinch and nudging Cap around so he blocked him from Burke’s view.

  He looked back at the window, where Hallie waved again, then pointed toward the southeast. Jacob dipped his head in a casual nod, then mounted Cap and rode off.

  ❧

  Hallie ducked down into the wash that ran behind the house. Her moccasins sent tiny showers of sand up behind her with every step.

  Had Jacob understood her signal? And if he had, what would his reaction be? Her bold action in setting up a clandestine meeting and slipping away from the house like this shocked her. She could just imagine what her father would say if he found out. The thought put wings to her feet. The farther away she got, the less likely he would be to spot her.

  She rounded a bend in the wash and caught sight of Jacob, standing next to his horse twenty yards ahead. His presence both thrilled and terrified her. Bad enough to think about her father’s reaction; what did Jacob think of her impetuous behavior?

  His warm smile melted her fears. She slowed to a more decorous walk but was still panting for breath by the time she reached him.

  “I was hoping I’d get to see you,” he said, as though meeting her like this were the most natural thing in the world. “How’s the calf?”

  Hallie adopted a tone as casual as his. “He’s fine. His leg is healing nice and straight. I even caught him trying to kick up his heels yesterday. He’s going to be as good as new.”

  “That’s good.” Jacob shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking suddenly ill at ease. “I guess you heard me talking to your father.”

  “Half the county probably heard him.” Hallie grinned and tried to pull off a laugh, but her smile wobbled. “To be honest, I heard him bellowing, but I couldn’t make out what he said. I got the feeling he wasn’t any too happy with you, though.”

  “You could say that.” Jacob shot her a rueful grin. “He probably thought I was way out of line when I quoted scripture to him. I told him he needed to forgive whoever is behind the rustling and let the law deal with them. He didn’t take it too well.”

  “I can imagine.” Hallie plucked a blue flax blossom from the edge of the wash and twirled the delicate stem between her fingers. “He’s always had a temper, but it didn’t used to be so close to the surface. Looking back, I think it’s been getting worse ever since Mama died, but losing so much stock has pushed him right over the edge. It seems like he’s angry all the time anymore. It’s like a poison eating away at him.” Unbidden tears stung her eyes. She dashed them away with the back of her hand, but more welled up and spilled over to trace slow trails down her cheeks.

  Jacob closed the short distance between them. His eyes, normally sky blue, took on the gray hue of a cloudy day. “I’m sorry. This can’t be easy for you.” He cupped her chin in his hand and wiped away her tears with his thumb.

  Hallie leaned her cheek ever so slightly into the comforting warmth of his palm. “The Bible also says I ought to honor my father. How can I do that when the Bible itself doesn’t condone his behavior or his attitude?” She blinked back another round of tears and stared up at Jacob.

  His expression darkened. “He doesn’t take his anger out on you, does he?”

  “No.” Not unless you count being so preoccupied with his missing cows that he can’t see his daughter’s virtue is being threatened by his favorite hand. She forced a laugh and tried to shrug away her concerns.

  Though her tears had dried, Jacob still cradled her cheek in his hand. “That’s a tough proposition when his actions run counter to God’s Word. But I don’t believe honoring your father means you necessarily agree with everything he
does. Just remember that your highest responsibility is to the Lord. Love your father. . .but serve God first.”

  Hallie had a feeling that with her father being the one in question, that suggestion would be easier said than done.

  Eleven

  Lucas Rawlins and Morris Atwater smiled when Jacob approached them in the back room of the Palace.

  “You have news for us?” A look of anticipation lit Rawlins’s face.

  “Only to give the two of you a report on my progress. . .or, rather, my lack of it.” Jacob outlined his investigation and its resulting dead ends. “I feel like I’m at the end of my rope,” he confessed. “I’ve tried everything I can think of, but I keep coming up dry. I’ll go on as I’ve begun and keep looking if you want me to. But if you feel I’m just wasting my time and your money, I’ll understand.” He waited stoically for their response.

  The ensuing silence was shattered by the sound of the outer door banging against the wall, followed by a voice Jacob knew all too well.

  “Where’s Rawlins and Atwater? This whole mess has gone on too long, and I want to know what they’re going to do about it.” Burke Evans stomped into the room. Crimson splotches mottled his face. He stopped abruptly when he spotted Jacob, and his mouth twisted in a sneer.

  “I might have known I’d find you lollygagging around here instead of out doing your job. Did you ever get out to check on those nesters, or was that whole story a trumped-up excuse to stop by my ranch in the hopes of impressing my daughter?”

  Lucas Rawlins stepped forward and gripped the angry man’s shoulder. “Hold on, Burke. Jacob was just telling us about the steps he’s taken to find out what’s happened to those cattle.”

  Burke shook off Rawlins’s restraining hand. “I’m not surprised. He’s good with words, does a powerful lot of talking. He seems to have Hallie eating right out of his hand. But what’s he done? That’s what I want to know. Tell me what’s happened beyond just talk.”

  “I went out to see those folks just after I left your place,” Jacob said. “There were no signs of cattle, yours or anyone else’s. They aren’t rustlers, just decent, hard-working people trying to build up farms, not raise stock.”

  “Well, if it isn’t them, who is it?” Burke thrust his chin forward. “You’d better get out there and find out instead of wasting your time loitering around town or hanging around my ranch trying to catch a glimpse of my daughter.”

  Burke narrowed his eyes to mere slits. “Or maybe I’ve been looking at it all backwards. Maybe you’re just using Hallie as an excuse to snoop around my ranch. What do we know about you, anyway? Only that you showed up on our doorstep one day and waltzed right into this position without any experience to back you up. Maybe you know a whole lot more about this rustling business than you’re letting on.”

  Muscles knotted in Jacob’s jaw. “If you’re implying—”

  “That’s enough, Evans.” Rawlins stepped between them, holding his arms out like a referee in the boxing ring. “Go home and cool off before you say something you’ll regret.”

  Burke stood as though wanting to say more, then swung around and made for the door. At the threshold, he turned and jabbed a stubby finger at each of the men in turn. “Just remember, someone out there deserves to swing at the end of a rope, and I don’t much care who it turns out to be.”

  ❧

  Hands clenched inside his pockets, Jacob finished his second lap around the perimeter of the plaza and began a third. The circular route wouldn’t take him very far, but he had to do something to work off the head of steam that erupted inside him after Burke Evans’s tirade.

  He slowed to let a cluster of chattering women saunter past, chafing until he could pick up his pace again. It might be a mild April morning in Prescott, but his rising temper made him feel as blazing hot under the collar as a Tucson afternoon in July.

  If it weren’t for the fact he’s Hallie’s father. . .

  He felt a hand grip his shoulder. Wheeling around, he spotted Buckey O’Neill’s friendly grin. “What’s eating you? You look like you’re being chased by Coxey’s army.”

  Jacob answered with a rueful smile. “Is it that obvious?”

  Buckey hooked his thumbs behind his belt. “Let’s just say I’ve been watching you from my office window for the past twenty minutes. By my count, this is the third time you’ve circled the plaza, looking like a man ready to throttle anyone who gets in his path. You want to talk about it?”

  Jacob set off again, and Buckey fell in step beside him. His expression sobered when Jacob poured out the story of Burke’s outburst.

  “That description doesn’t fit the person I met when I came here in ’82,” Buckey said. “Hallie was just a little thing, and her mother, Annabel, could light up a dark night with her smile. Burke struck me as one of the most contented men on the face of the earth back then. He had a temper, sure, but he knew how to keep it in check. Now it seems that temper rules him instead of the other way around.”

  Jacob considered his friend’s words, then nodded. “That pretty well sums it up.” The two men walked in silence, completing another lap around the courthouse square before Jacob spoke again.

  “He has reason enough to be angry about what’s happening now, but I get the feeling it goes back to more than just the loss of his stock. It’s almost like he’s mad at God for something. Whatever the case, he needs to turn it loose and move on instead of letting it consume him like this.”

  “You could be right. Bitterness can eat at a man like a canker.” Buckey shook his head, then his face brightened. “Have you heard the news about Cuba? Major Brodie is ready to recruit a whole regiment from the West.” His face lit up with an eager fire. “I say we can recruit a thousand from Arizona Territory alone. Why, we have the best of the West right here. These men have been tested by fire already. They can ride, they can shoot, and they won’t run at the sound of a bullet.”

  He clapped his hands. “We’ll put together the finest cavalry unit the world has ever seen. If that doesn’t show the nation we’re ready for statehood, I don’t know what will.”

  His words stirred something deep inside Jacob. Buckey’s passion was born of a love for a land he had come to as a young man. But Arizona Territory was Jacob’s own birthplace, the place he planned to call his home for all the rest of his days. Why not take a leaf from Buckey’s book and pour himself into helping to shape Arizona’s future? “Statehood does have a sweet sound to it.”

  A spark of enthusiasm flickered and grew into a flame. “As for going to war to do it, I guess nothing good is achieved without some risk, is it?”

  Buckey stopped abruptly and faced him. “Just think of what the results could be.” His face lit up. “Who wouldn’t gamble for a star on the flag?”

  Jacob felt his excitement grow to match Buckey’s. Giving of himself for his territory—his country—might be the finest thing he’d ever be called to do. Not everyone was handed the opportunity to invest themselves in such a noble cause.

  A more prosaic thought insinuated itself into his mind: Going off to war would also serve as an honorable means to get him out of the tangle he’d become enmeshed in here. Unless God worked a miracle, this might be his only chance to prove to himself and everyone else that he wasn’t an incompetent fool.

  It’s about time I show the folks around here I can do something right.

  A broad smile spread across his face. “Let me know where to sign up. I’m going to Cuba with you.”

  Twelve

  “That’s the best fried chicken I’ve had in a long time, Amy.” Jacob leaned back and rubbed his full stomach. “I don’t know why all these years of eating your Sunday dinners hasn’t turned Dan into a round ball.”

  Amy blushed, and Jacob offered a silent apology to his mother. She would always be the finest cook he had ever known, but still, Amy’s cooking came in at a close second.

  Dan helped himself to a mound of mashed potatoes, then passed the serving bowl to Jacob. “A
ny more luck on finding those rustlers, or shouldn’t I ask?”

  “Nothing worth getting excited about,” Jacob said. The change in subject dampened his contentment. Then he remembered his earlier conversation.

  “I did hear something worthwhile, though. Buckey O’Neill told me they’re getting ready to recruit troops for the war with Spain. I’m going to sign up the first chance I get.”

  Dan leaned forward eagerly. “It’s getting that close, then?”

  “It sure looks that way.” Jacob took another bite of fried chicken and chewed with renewed enthusiasm. “At least that way I’ll have something to show for my efforts. Not like—” A sharp clatter halted him in midsentence.

  Amy stared at Dan, her face pale. “What does that look on your face mean? Do you have some notion of running off to join up, too?”

  Dan shot an apologetic glance at Jacob before answering. “If I were a footloose young buck, I probably would. When I think about the way we tend to take our freedom for granted, then realize there’s a country full of people not far away who have never tasted that kind of freedom. . .well, it makes me want to jump right on the bandwagon and go help drive the Spanish out.

  “But then I remember that God has given me responsibilities right here at home. Who would take care of you and the children? Who would look after this place? I can’t go haring off and leave all that in someone else’s lap. It wouldn’t be right.” He reached across the table to take Amy’s hand. “Don’t worry, honey. I’m not planning to rush off anywhere.”

  He squeezed her fingers, then turned back to Jacob. “I almost forgot. I wanted to pass along something I heard yesterday. Tom Miller of the J Bar D said he saw George Dixon at the Prescott saddlery the other day. Tom figured he was taking an old saddle in for repairs, but it turns out Dixon was ordering a brand, spanking new one. Really fancy from the sounds of it—fully carved and with a passel of Mexican silver.”