A Love Beyond Lies: An Inspirational Historical Romance Book

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A Love Beyond Lies: An Inspirational Historical Romance Book Page 24

by Lilah Rivers


  He held the paper out to the older man. When Anderson went to take it from his fingers, he jerked his arm back toward himself. The confused look on Anderson’s face delighted him. It would be the last time he could play with the man so he was going to drag it out as long as he could.

  He was already beginning to feel the humiliation in the air around him. Everyone was looking at him. How long could he act tough when he’d just lost an important game of poker and brought shame on his family name and, more importantly, himself?

  He didn’t bother looking up at Pauline. He knew she was ashamed of him. He would have to work hard to regain her respect after this.

  He lowered his arm again so that Anderson could take the paper. This time, he didn’t pull his arm back but let the older man pull the paper from his fingers. It frustrated him that he was helpless to stop these events from unfolding.

  If only he’d had a better hand.

  “Thank you, Mr. Raines,” Bart Anderson said in a polite voice that only made Jarrett hate him even more. “My family appreciates this very much.”

  “Get out of here.” Jarrett couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to look at the man anymore.

  He turned his eyes away when Anderson shoved his chair back and hurried to the door of the saloon, disappearing from Jarrett’s sight quickly.

  Chapter 3

  Laila moved slowly through the kitchen, stirring the dumplings, checking on the chicken, cleaning up small messes left behind from earlier in the day when she’d made her father and brother lunch. She passed the window facing the field and caught her reflection in the glass. Leaning back slightly so she could look at herself again, she studied the worry lines under and around her eyes.

  In just five short years, she’d aged ten. She was still young, just 21 years of age. But losing her mother at 16 had had a bigger effect on her than anyone could have predicted. The past five years had been hard on them all.

  Reuben shut down. Even though he was seventeen when they lost their mother and well on his way to becoming an adult, he still needed her. He needed her comfort, her nurturing, her love and her support. She had been a source of encouragement and motivation for both her children throughout their childhoods.

  Laila moved away from her reflection, patting her chestnut brown hair, many wisps of which had come loose from the long braid it was held back in. She probably didn’t look as old as she thought she did. It had been a long, hot day in Juniper and she was already tired.

  It was her father who had taken the death of his wife the hardest. Laila knew how much her parents loved each other. For her father to lose his other half was the most painful thing she could think of to happen – other than losing one of his children. He was a kind and loving father, a hard worker, a good businessman…

  And then his lovely Rebecca was taken by pneumonia.

  The first two years after her mother died, Bart Anderson had seemed strong. He continued working and running the ranch. He did his best to recover after the loss of more than half their herd the same year Rebecca died. He managed to recover a third of what they lost.

  On the two-year anniversary of her mother’s passing, Reuben had found their father unconscious in the tall grass of one of their fields. He’d only known where Bart was because Lucky, his father’s horse, wouldn’t leave his master alone. The animal was grazing within a few feet of his fallen rider.

  Since the discovery of a weak heart, Bart appeared to give up. He began drinking heavily and gambling any extra money the family got. No amount of complaining, whining, nagging, pleading, begging or shows of concern could keep Bart from quitting his new addictions, his new forms of escape.

  She looked up from the bubbling water which was boiling two long ears of yellow corn when the front door opened. She heard it slam shut and the sound of her brother’s heavy boots going into the mudroom.

  By the time he came into the dining room and kitchen, Laila was spooning potatoes with melted cheese, chunks of hot, delicious chicken and biscuits onto a plate for him.

  He smiled in appreciation, taking the plate from her. “Thanks, Laila. You’re a godsend.”

  “I hope you’re ready to eat,” Laila said, staying at the stove to make her own plate of food.

  “Oh, I am. And this smells absolutely delicious. Couldn’t have asked for more. Thanks again, sis. I worked pretty hard today.”

  “You work hard every day, Reuben. You deserve it.”

  “You work just as hard,” her brother said, smiling at her as she sat across from him. He looked down and back up again. “I think we should probably use forks, don’t you think?”

  Laila glanced down to see she hadn’t put any forks or utensils on the table at all. She laughed and hopped back up to grab them from the drawer. “I don’t think we want to be eating with our hands when Pa gets back, do we?”

  Reuben gave her a sorrowful look. She knew why. There was little chance their father would come home to eat dinner with them. It was a Saturday night, when all the men were paid and in the saloon, playing cards and drinking.

  She was just grateful they still had food to eat. When it came down to it, she and Reuben could make the money to keep themselves clothed and fed. But it was a shame they had to and disheartening to think their father wasn’t strong enough to handle his losses.

  Neither of them had grown up with tragedy. Their childhood involved their mother and she loved them from the moment they were born. She told them daily and they were old enough at 16 and 18 to remember it. She knew that her father was proud of her and happy to be her father. His heart was broken in half and that was the long and short of it.

  Reuben said a quick prayer and the two dug into the food. Laila had to admit, it was good. She’d done a good job. She could tell by the way he was eating and the smile on his face that he was just as satisfied.

  “This is great, Laila. You outdid yourself with this. It’s a shame Pa won’t be here to have some.”

  Laila refused to let the thought get her down. Pa was a good man. He was just a lost soul and she would do anything she could to find a way through to him.

  She was beginning to feel helpless, though. It was disheartening. She reached across the table and patted his hand.

  “I’m just glad you are, Reuben. I’d be so alone without you.”

  Reuben gave her a warm smile and set his fork down on the plate so he could pat the hand she’d rested on his other one. “I love ya, sis. I’m blessed to have you, too. We gotta be strong for Pa. He really needs us.”

  “I’m worried,” Laila said, softly, the stress obvious in her voice. “I don’t think he’s going to pull himself out of this and I don’t know what to do to help him. You know he’s in town gambling and drinking. He’ll come in here drunk and pass out on the couch. He won’t be any good to help you tomorrow.” She stopped, her heart heavy. She dropped her head.

  Reuben squeezed her hand and leaned forward, his voice dropping low. His care for her soothed her. “Now, now, Laila. Pa will come back to us. We just have to pray for a miracle. God will help us if we remember that He’s in charge, right? That’s what we believe, isn’t it?”

  Laila pulled in a deep breath. He was right. They had prayed since they were little, taught by their mother not to be formal about it but just to talk to Him as if he was right there listening. She’d imagined God listening to her prayers all her life. Now, when she needed to the most, she hadn’t been praying.

  “I do need to pray over this, Reuben. I haven’t been. I feel… so ashamed.”

  “No, don’t do that, either.” His “big brother” voice came out, making her smile, softly. “Just pray and maybe something will change. Believe it will change. We can only do so much. And right now, that’s just to love Pa. Even in his current condition.”

  They were quiet for a few moments. Laila found herself breathing easier. He was always so good at calming her heart. She was so glad to have him as her older brother.

  “Feel better?” he asked after a p
rolonged silence.

  She looked up at him, smiling. “Yes, I do. Thank you, Reuben.”

  He grinned and pulled his hands from hers. “Thank goodness. My hands were getting sweaty.”

  They both laughed.

  Chapter 4

  A commotion downstairs and the sound of their dogs barking wildly woke Laila from a light sleep. She was just dozing off, trying not to let her worry keep her up all night. She was immediately alert, sliding her legs out from under the light quilt. She’d heard her father make noise coming in before but he’d slammed the door with purpose. That meant he was either more drunk than usual or nearly sober.

  Laila pushed her feet into the slippers by the bed and grabbed her robe as she ran to her door. She was through it quickly but her father was already at the top of the stairs. She’d never seen him look like he did and panic struck her.

  “Pa! Are you okay? What’s going on?”

  “Laila! We must wake your brother! I… I have exciting news! I want to tell you both together!”

  Laila’s confusion fogged her brain, making it hard to think straight. “News? Are you all right? What do you mean?”

  “Come on, come on!” Bart was just outside Reuben’s door and had paused to give her a moment to catch up to him. When she was next to him, he grabbed her hand and gave her a wild-eyed look. “Everything will change now, Laila! Everything will change!”

  His excitement was catching. Laila followed him into Reuben’s dark room. Her father held up his lantern and crossed the room to the bed, where her brother was lying sound asleep.

  Bart dropped on the side of the bed and set the lantern down on the night stand. He grabbed Reuben by the shoulders and shook him gently.

  “Reuben, Reuben, wake up! I have something to tell you! We’ve got our miracle. Oh, son, we got our miracle!”

  Laila bent at the waist, resting one hand on her father’s shoulder. “Pa, what’s all this about? Reuben is so tired from working all day. Are you drunk? Are you…”

  “Stop it, girl!” Her father shrugged her hand off his shoulder and replied in a scolding voice. “I’m not drunk! I’m completely sober! I haven’t had a drop since… well, it doesn’t matter when. Point is, I’m not drunk! And I’ve come into a windfall! Look what I have! Look, Reuben! Look!”

  Laila watched as her father whipped a folded paper from his vest pocket and hold it up in front of her brother. Reuben was just waking up, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus. He was mumbling incoherently.

  She snatched the paper from her father’s hand and moved closer to the lantern. She unfolded it and read the words on it with growing excitement and apprehension. It looked like a promissory note. When she saw what it was for and who had signed it, chills ran up her spine.

  “Pa,” she said breathlessly, looking over her shoulder at him. He was grinning from ear to ear. “This is from Jarrett Raines! Where did you get this?”

  “What is it, Laila?” Reuben asked, still half-asleep. He groggily reached over and took the paper from her, rubbing one hand through his hair as he stared at the writing. It only took a second for him to comprehend what he was reading. He pushed himself to a sitting position and read it again. He pulled his eyes up to meet his father’s. “Pa. What is this?”

  “What does it look like?” their father asked, his voice high-pitched from the adrenaline running through him. He pushed himself to his feet, practically hopping in place. “It’s from Jarrett Raines! I won! I won two hands! Three thousand dollars and 30 head of cattle! We are back on our feet! We can fix everything now! Pay off all the debts with some left over! Plenty left over!”

  Laila was numb for a moment, trying to understand how this could have happened. Her father had never put himself in a game that would cost him so much if he lost. She looked up at him.

  He hadn’t lost. He’d won.

  Tingles ran over her body, making the hair on her arms and the back of her neck stand on end.

  “This is real?” she asked, softly, taking the paper back from her brother. He was staring at her, blinking.

  “It’s real!” Bart began to laugh and dance around the room. He lifted his arms up in the air and twirled around, snapping his fingers. “It’s real! I won! I won, Rebecca! I won!” He put both hands to his lips, kissed them and threw the kisses toward the ceiling. “I won, I won!”

  Laila was overcome with the need to laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. Her father wasn’t drunk. He’d won big and they were to get a great deal of money and cattle to add to their herd, bringing them close to where they had been when they lost so much that winter five years ago.

  Nothing would bring back her mother. But to have her father back would mean so much.

  Reuben’s face lit up. He threw the covers from his legs and jumped to his feet. In seconds, he was by Laila’s side. He grabbed her up by her hand and her waist and spun her around the room, throwing his head back and laughing.

  She twirled around, her nightcap slipping from her head, falling to the floor, where she accidentally trod upon it as her brother danced with her. She let her head fall backwards and gazed at the ceiling as it rotated above her.

  “We’re back!” Reuben shouted, his glee flowing out with his words. “We’re free again! Praise the Lord! Thank You, God! Our prayers have been answered!”

  Laila fell into giggling, and her head was spinning when Reuben finally stopped twirling her around. “Oh, Reuben! Such a way to have a prayer answered! Gambling! Of all things!”

  Reuben’s laughter came through his voice. “Well, it had to come somehow!”

  He gathered her in his strong arms and lifted her off her feet, spinning her around in circles. He only did it a few times before he stopped and set her down again. He looked down at her briefly before pulling her into a hug.

  “Everything’s gonna be all right again, Laila. I’m sure of it.” He pulled away but when she looked up at him, his eyes were on their father, who was still dancing a jig in the middle of his round woven carpet. “Pa! Pa, tell your daughter everything is gonna get better now.”

  Bart stopped dancing and strolled over casually. He stopped a few feet from her and tilted his head to the side, giving her a goofy grin she hadn’t seen since she was a small child.

  “Everything is gonna be all right, girly-girl,” he said, using an old sailor’s accent. “I promise!” He jabbed his index finger toward the sky and hopped over to envelop her in his slender arms. She hugged him tight, noticing how bony he’d become.

  That worry was for another time, she told herself. Right now, her family needed to be happy.

  Want to read the rest of the story? Check out the book on Amazon!

 

 

 


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