by Mercy Levy
Nathaniel Fleishman leaned against a tree, out of sight. He took a moment to absorb the beauty of a woman who transformed the early snowy morning into a dream most men would never be gifted to see. He watched the wind play in Sarah's silk black hair. He watched the snow fall on the green coat she was wearing over a thick yellow dress. He stared into her beautiful face, amazed at how her every feature was perfectly designed in such beauty that made a man understand perfection existed. And last, he stood admiring her child-like innocence; a sweet, tender, heart living in the body of a woman whose beauty the world did not deserve. “Get on with it,” Nathaniel fussed at himself, realizing that he could not stand hidden and watch Sarah all morning.
Stepping out from behind the tree, he brushed snow off of the brown coat he was wearing and grabbed the white and blue Yarmulke sitting on his head before the winds could grab it away. Trudging across the park, he stopped a few feet away from the bench. “Hello, Sarah,” he said in a warm but serious voice.
Sarah raised her eyes and saw her brother's closest friend standing before her with a downcast face. “Nathaniel?” she asked confused. “Are you and Joel back so soon from Nevada? I assumed you two would be searching for gold until your hair and beard turned solid white.”
Nathaniel lifted his right hand and rubbed his brown beard. He looked thin to Sarah—too thin, she admitted to herself. “Joel and I had some trouble, Sarah.”
“Oh dear,” Sarah said alarmed and rose to her feet. “Nathaniel, is Joel alright?”
Nathaniel lowered his eyes down and looked at the brown shoes he was wearing. Uncertain how to proceed, he shrugged his shoulders. Looking back up at Sarah he sighed. “Joel and I purchased a claim. Our claim was legal. One day, these three meshuggeners appeared and began claiming we were on their claim. You know hot-tempered Joel can be.”
Sarah nodded her head as the icy winds forced her to cover her watery eyes. “Yes, I know.”
Nathaniel continued. “We tried to explain that our claim was legal, but those three meshuggeners wouldn't listen to a single word we said. One of the men became very violent and attacked Joel with a knife.”
“Oh dear...Nathaniel is Joel...” Sarah gasped, throwing her hands up to her mouth and prepared for the worst.
Nathaniel shook his head no. “Joel is a grand fighter, Sarah. Joel is brave and daring. He is a man who backs away from no insult or threat issued against him. I admire my friend for he has natural qualities that I myself struggle to attain.”
“Yes, my brother is a great fighter,” Sarah agreed and then frowned. “His inability to choose peace over his temper has never claimed calmness for his life.”
Nathaniel stuffed his cold hands into the pockets of his coat. “Joel was justified in defending himself a deadly coward who attacked him with a knife without any cause to do so.”
Sarah stared into Nathaniel's upset face. “Did Joel kill this man, Nathaniel?”
Nathaniel nodded his head yes. “In self-defense. But the local Sheriff refused to accept that Joel defended himself. He arrested Joel and a jury condemned him to hang.”
“Oh dear,” Sarah began to cry.
“Joel escaped,” Nathaniel attempted to comfort Sarah. “I...helped him. He told me to come back to Boston and explain to you the events taking place.”
“Where is my brother?” Sarah begged.
“I don't know?” Nathaniel answered honestly. “Joel refused to tell me the direction he was going to take. My duty was to return and speak with you. Watch the mail, Sarah.” And with that, Nathaniel turned and walked away without saying another word, leaving Sarah alone in the snowy park with tears falling from her beautiful eyes.
*
Grateful to be off the bumpy and dusty stagecoach, Sarah brushed the dust off the brown dress she was wearing. Standing outside of a small wooden shack built as a watering station for wearing horses dragging stage coaches across a dry land, she looked around. A dry and thirsty valley stood before her holding sleepy trees and brown grass. “This drought has been terrible,” a chubby man wearing a gray suit told Sarah. Taking out a white handkerchief, he wiped sweat from his forehead even though the air was cool and the taste of winter wasn't far away. The man seemed nervous rather than hot.
Sarah watched a tall, strong, man wearing a black hat and black suit walk up to the shack. The man was wearing a gun and appeared cruel and mean. His face was cold and angry—yet, somehow, Sarah saw honesty in the man's face that appealed to her. The man, without saying a word, snatched out his gun and aimed it at the chubby man. “Hello, William,” he said.
The chubby man's face went pale. He threw his eyes around for help. The stage coach drivers shook their head at him and leaned against a wooden fence. “You have the wrong man,” the chubby man insisted.
“I don't think so. You stole forty thousand dollars from the First Bank of St. Louis,” the man answered in a calm voice. “Where is the money?”
“I didn't any money,” the chubby man replied in a scared voice. Turning toward Sarah, he pleaded his case to her assuming the woman could somehow save him. “It's all a misunderstanding, really. The deposit money was stolen and blamed on me. I admit I ran away...but I ran because I was scared and--”
Sarah glanced at the man wearing the black suit. The man narrowed his eyes at the chubby man. “Prison or money,” he growled. “All I want is the money. You can go free.”
The chubby man wiped his forehead again. Nervously, he considered his options. “I...in my suitcase,” he caved in. “You can have the money, but please...let me go. I can't go to prison,” he begged.
“Let's go,” the man said.
Sarah watched as the man wearing the black hat walked the chubby man over the stage coach. Reluctantly, the chubby man opened the stage door and withdrew a brown suitcase and dropped it down onto the ground. “The money...it's all there.”
“Open it.”
The chubby man knelt down and opened the brown suitcase. The man wearing the black hat nodded his head. The chubby man quickly closed the suitcase and stood up. “You said you wanted the money...not me...please...”
“I'm a bounty hunter,” the man told the chubby man and glanced at Sarah. The woman was beautiful. But she must think he was only a bloodthirsty monster. Putting the gun in his hand away, he focused back on the chubby man. “Take a long walk.”
The chubby man didn't hesitate. He immediately took off running toward a patch of trees. Unable to believe her eyes, Sarah watched in amazement as the chubby man vanished into the trees. “You let him escape?” she called out.
“Mam, my name is Ben Weathers. I'm a bounty hunter.” Picking up the brown suitcase, Ben approached Sarah. “My duty is to take this money into the next town and deposit in the bank. From there, the bank in St. Louis will send someone to get it.”
“But the man who stole the money?” Sarah asked confused.
Ben nodded his heads toward the patch of trees. “No water, no gun, no supplies….better justice will be served my way rather than throwing him behind bars.”
Sarah considered what Ben said. “I...suppose,” she agreed. Staring at Ben, she saw a man who was capable and confident in his ability to track down other men.
“Besides, William was a side stop for me. I'm after a murderer. A man named Joel Goldstein...a man who killed my brother.”
Sarah froze. “Did you say...Joel Goldstein?” she whispered.
“Do you know the man?” Ben asked carefully examining Sarah's pale face. Never in his life had he ever seen a woman so beautiful or delicate before. Why the woman was traveling alone was beyond him.
“Yes. The man you mentioned is my brother. And he's innocent of the charge you spoke against him, sir. My brother is a man of peace, not violence. I was told he was attacked and killed in self-defense,” Sarah explained, forcing her voice to become stern. Staring into Ben's face, she struggled to see an enemy; instead, she saw a man who meant no harm to any innocent person.
“The two men who wer
e with my brother when he was killed testified differently,” Ben gently objected.
“My brother's best friend--”
“Nathaniel Fleishman,” Ben said.
Sarah nodded her head. “Yes, Nathaniel Fleishman. Nathaniel is an honest man and he told me three men attacked him and my brother on a legal claim they purchased together.”
“Sheriff Duffy doesn't see it that way,” Ben informed Sarah. “Mam, I admit, my brother was nothing more than a scoundrel and a drunk. It's very possible...and even likely...your brother did kill in self-defense. But the fact is, your brother is wanted for murder and I'm going to bring him in. If he's innocent, then let him prove it. Innocent men do not run and hide.”
Sarah sighed. Sadly, she lowered her eyes. “Yes, I admit, Joel should not have run away. In your eyes, I can understand why he appears guilty.”
Ben gently reached out his hand and touched Sarah's shoulder. “Mam, I didn't say your brother was guilty. I just said innocent men do not run and hide. I also said it's likely he did kill my brother in self-defense.”
Sarah cautiously raised her eyes and looked at Ben. The man offered a warm smile. “But you will track my brother down as if he is nothing more than a wild animal.”
“My mother...she died three weeks ago.”
“I'm very sorry,” Sarah told Ben giving authentic compassion.
Ben took his hand off Sarah's shoulder. “My mother was a Godly woman, mam. Her dying wish was for me to bring my brother's murderer to justice. I have a promise to keep.”
“My brother did not murder--”
“I know,” Ben interrupted Sarah. “Whether your brother is innocent or guilty isn't my concern. Keeping my wish to my mother, mam, is my concern.”
“I understand,” Sarah assured Ben. “Your actions are honorable, even though they cast a dark shadow on my side of the land.”
Ben stared into Sarah's beautiful face. “I wasn't always a bounty hunter, mam. The truth is, I became a bounty hunter five years ago when my father was murdered. At the time, I working as a banker in Denver. I...remain a bounty hunter because I still haven't captured my father's killer.”
“And your mother...the dear woman, with your brother going to his grave, what she must have thought,” Sarah told Ben.
Ben nodded his head. “You are a very perceptive woman,” he complimented Sarah. “You are also very warm. My mother would have liked you.”
Sarah gently touched her heart. “The God of Israel is my heart, sir. I am only flesh and blood. We are all only flesh and blood. We are born, and then we die. How we live in the middle...we must strive to be a pleasing aroma to the God of Abraham, Issac, and Jacob. But the heart of men is filled with violence and blood. And now, here I stand, searching for my own brother who, himself, has become part of the reason why God Himself flooded the world so many years ago.”
Ben stood in awe. The words Sarah spoke sunk into his heart and crashed through his defenses Unable to take his eyes off of her, he began to see a woman that reminded him of a man who died five years back. “Where are you traveling to? Mam, if you know where your brother is--”
“I am traveling to a town called Pine Hill,” Sarah confessed. “My funds are very low, I'm afraid.”
“Is your brother in Pine Hill?” Ben asked.
Sarah shook her head. “I do not know? My brother does not know I have come to look for him. I chose to begin in the town he and Nathaniel purchased their claim in.”
“Pine Hill northwest from here,” Ben told Sarah. “I'll be traveling there myself to deposit this stolen money and send a wire to St. Louis.”
An old man with a gray beard walked up to Ben. “Horses are ready. We gotta get moving. Mam, you ready? Pine Hill is still a ways from here.”
“I'm ready,” Sarah told the old man. In the distance, she saw a younger man crawl up onto the stage with a rifle in his hand and take his seat.
The old man studied Ben. “Get what you wanted, bounty hunter?”
Ben nodded his head. “The land will take care of the rest,” he said. “Mam--”
“Please, call me Sarah,” Sarah told Ben.
Ben smiled. “My name is Ben. If it's okay with you, I'll meet up with you at Pine Hill. If your brother is innocent, as you claim, his only chance to live is for me to find him. I'm not the only bounty hunter out searching for him...and your brother's bounty is...dead or alive.”
Sarah closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. Could she trust a stranger with her brother's life? “I will pray and give you my answer in Pine Hill.”
Chapter 2
Blind Faith
After checking into a hotel that was suitable for any weary traveler, Sarah decided to walk up to the small general store she had seen riding into town on the stagecoach. The town, to Sarah's delight, was small but very cozy. The main street was lined with wooden buildings that had been built with crafted hands. Each building, although similar in shape and size, somehow held its own unique personality. Pausing in front of a dress shop, Sarah examined a white and yellow dress stationed in the display window. For a few moments, she forgot all about Joel and why she had traveled west, to begin with. Pretending she was back in Boston window shopping, Sarah allowed her imagination to purchase the white and yellow dress and prepare it for a warm evening at home with a husband that her lonely heart yearned to have.
“Sarah?” a voice said.
Startled, Sarah was forced back into reality. Turning her head, she saw Ben standing on her right. “Hello,” she said in a polite voice. Something in Ben's face allowed Sarah to understand that the man was fighting an inner war that was destroying his heart.
“Did you pray?” he asked taking his eyes off Sarah and looking at the white and yellow dress.
“I did,” Sarah confessed. “For now, I will trust you...very cautiously.”
“Fair enough,” Ben answered. “Nice dress.”
“Back home in Boston I worked as a teacher. My salary was minimal, but I was grateful,” Sarah explained. “You see, my brother and I came to America from Germany.”
“I thought I detected an accent,” Ben told Sarah.
Sarah cast her eyes at the white and yellow dress again. “After our parents were killed due to a political war, my brother, Joel, took me away from Germany in order to protect me. Nathaniel, always the faith friend, traveled with us. We arrived in America very poor. Last year, Joel decided to travel west and search for gold. He left a good job as a bookkeeper. I...argued with him and insisted such plans were...foolish. Joel and I departed with a shadow of anger over our hearts.”
“Why would your brother leave a good job to take such a risky chance? And why would his, this Nathaniel, join your brother?” Ben asked.
“Joel and Nathaniel were both working as bookkeepers for a man named Mr. Cunningham. Mr. Cunningham was a hard man, but fair. Joel arrived to work tardy one morning and...” Sarah clasped her frail hands together and closed her eyes. “Mr. Cunningham accused Joel of being tardy due to alcohol. Joel does not drink. He attempted to explain the reason he was tardy was due to the snow, but Mr. Cunningham deducted the hour Joel was tardy from his income. After that, Joel began talking about traveling west. In a short while, he convinced Nathaniel to travel with him and off they went, into an unknown wind.”
“I think I understand,” Ben promised Sarah. “It sounds to me that your brother got fed up with being stuffed up in an office all day with the thumb of a hard man pressing down on his back. He probably wanted some wind under his wings and some fresh air to breathe.”
Sarah opened her eyes. “You too, Ben, are very perceptive,” she said. Carefully, she examined Ben's face.
“What are you looking at?” Ben asked confused.
“You seem very lost,” Sarah confessed. “You have lonely and angry eyes that are hiding the face of a good man.”
Uncertain how to answer, Ben shifted from foot to foot. “Uh...where were you going?” he asked, hoping to take Sarah's attention off the statement sh
e made.
“I'm hungry,” Sarah smiled as her tender cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “I am going to the General Store down the street and see what food I can afford. I'm afraid that the price of lodging at the hotel has harmed my finances more than I expected.”
“You must really care about your brother to come all this way and spend all your money,” Ben said.
“Love,” Sarah told Ben, is what completes faith. If we give up on love, then we say there is no God. And God is complete love.”
“In the old pages of the Bible, I see a God of anger and fury. Did God not flood the world?”
“Does a court not condemn the guilty?” Sarah asked Ben. “Is the God who breathed our spirits into us supposed to be only love without also being a God of justice?”
Ben considered Sarah's question. “A kind judge must also hang a man who refuses to stop stealing horses.”
Sarah nodded her head. “Will you walk with me, Ben?” she asked.
“Sure,” Ben smiled.
Sarah turned away from the white and yellow dress and began walking toward the General Store. A few men on horseback lazily eased up the street on some chore or another while a group of children sat on the steps of the hotel listening to an old man tell tales that were partially truth and partially lies. “Cozy,” Sarah said breathing in the late evening air. “Chilly, too. Does it snow here?”
“The winters are rough,” Ben admitted. “You need a coat.”
“I sold my coat,” Sarah confessed.
Ben glanced at Sarah. Her cheeks were growing red from the chilly air. With night approaching, the temperature was rapidly dropping. “Say, you walk on ahead to the General Store. I'll be there in a few minutes. I just remember...I have a quick errand to run.”