Chapter 11
Just as I am, though tossed about
with many a conflict, many a doubt,
fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come! I come!”
A hymn hadn’t occupied Neelie’s mind for many years. But on this Sunday, after hearing it sung in Ian’s baritone, the tune and words to the third verse of “Just As I Am” lingered in her mind. Conflicts. Doubts. Fightings. Fears. She had them all. God couldn’t want her, just as she was.
As Neelie nudged the languid chestnut into a slightly more energetic amble, she doubted her qualifications to care for Ian’s children. They needed someone more focused on homemaking and such things.
And fears … She feared what she’d felt Wednesday, riding side by side with Ian and the enjoyment of showing off for him. His recognition of her skill. The warmth of his arm and the tingle she’d felt in her fingers. She wasn’t about to admit it to anyone, but she had a wagon full of fears.
Fightings. Even now, she fought the temptation to run from it all. She had her six-shooters and a horse. She could hunt and find enough water to make it to the next fort, where there was sure to be folks who would wager to see a woman shootist in action.
Neelie allowed her mount to return to a more sluggish pace and patted her mane. It wouldn’t be easy to train her to be a show partner, but she’d be able to trade the horse for one that could be trained.
But Neelie didn’t want to leave the caravan. Anna and Caleb. The children and Davonna. Or Ian.
She’d seen conflict on Ian’s face when she’d asked to use a horse.
“Alone?” His eyes had widened. Ian didn’t want to trust her with the horse for fear she’d leave. He’d seen her do it before.
But he did trust her.
He’d cared enough to spend time with her without the children … to take her out to practice with targets when he had to know she would outshoot him. That meant something.
She wasn’t Rhoda, but neither was Ian, Archie.
A shade tree had just caught Neelie’s attention when she heard hoofbeats not all that far behind her. She pulled back on the reins and listened. One rider, on the other side of the rise.
Had someone followed her from camp? Or worse. Her shoulders tensed. Had someone who knew of her past caught up to her? She slid from the saddle and pulled a six-shooter from its holster. No point in trying to make it to the tree. Instead, she stood her ground, facing the direction of the rider.
When the rider rose into view, Neelie recognized the Tennessee pacer and the man beneath the derby.
Her brother raised his hands. “I come in peace.”
She holstered her gun. “Did Ian ask you to follow me?”
“He doesn’t know I’m here.” He lifted his hat and wiped beads of sweat from his brow. “Could we talk in the shade?”
Nodding, she climbed back into her saddle and followed Caleb to the lone tree. Within minutes, the horses grazed and Neelie sat with her back against the trunk of the cottonwood.
Caleb sat facing her, legs crossed. “I see myself in you, Neelie, and I’m not just talking about physical resemblances.”
“Oh?”
“Before I left home, I met some fellows who hung out at the Wildhorse Saloon. I started drinking with them. Often.”
She nodded. “I knew you came home drunk a time or two.”
“It was all I wanted to do during the war.”
“You’re a preacher now. Married. You put all of that behind you.”
“I told you I was the only one who survived from my regiment. I didn’t tell you why.” Caleb set his derby on the grass beside him, and she did the same with her sombrero. “After the war, I saw an advertisement for trail hands and went to Saint Charles to join the caravan. I wanted nothing more than to run from my past. Run from what happened that day during the war when I drew watch and drank anyway. The day I passed out. The day my regiment was ambushed and everyone perished but me.”
Neelie groaned. Her brother had faced so much anguish. How was he able to live with it? And become a preacher, no less?
“I fled and clung to the shame I felt. Because I kept my grief and disgrace locked inside, I couldn’t let myself care for anyone else. I couldn’t allow anyone to come too close.”
She had more in common with her brother than she’d imagined.
Caleb plucked a grass stem from the ground. “When I was in that state of mind and battling my failings and fears, I wanted to run.”
“That’s why you followed me here. You thought I was running?”
“It crossed my mind.” He expelled a sigh as if it carried the weight of the world. “Yes.”
“I’m married, and I have children to look after.”
“Don’t be surprised if that’s not enough.” Her brother wasn’t judging her. He might not know what all had grieved and shamed her, but he was saying he understood.
“I did run. Or tried to.” Neelie folded her arms then unfolded them. “That first Sunday night in camp. Ian saw me leaving and came after me.”
“Is that when you began to care for him?”
Neelie wanted to say she didn’t have feelings for Ian. “Probably. He apologized for misunderstanding and misjudging me when I shot the cougar. We talked some, and he asked me to return to the camp.” She readjusted her position against the tree trunk. “I thought about leaving today, but I couldn’t.”
“Good. We don’t want you to go.” Caleb shook his head. “A part of me always wanted so badly to care for Anna. To let myself feel something for her. But because of my secrets, I kept pushing her away. Then, because I couldn’t be honest with her, she pushed me away.”
“What changed?”
“I did.” Caleb glanced up at the sky. “I had prayed and pleaded with God to forgive me. All the while, I was convinced He wouldn’t pardon me. That He couldn’t.”
“Because what you’d done was too horrific.” It wasn’t a question. Neelie knew the feeling.
“Yes. And I worked hard to try to make up for the hurt I’d caused so many people, including my own family.”
Tears stung Neelie’s eyes. Was that why she’d married Ian? Was she trying to make up for not being able to help Archie? Was she trying to earn God’s forgiveness by taking care of motherless children and their grandmother? Blinking hard against the tears, she watched a prairie dog poke its head up out of a hole, look around, and then descend into the ground again. That was what she’d been doing. Living life afraid of her own shadow.
Not anymore. She was tired of hiding.
Her brother’s eyes held nothing but compassion.
“I’ve been hiding behind secrets, too. Behind these clothes.” She tugged at the oversized trousers she wore.
“You don’t have to hide anymore, Neelie. Everyone has fallen short of God’s righteousness and needs His mercy and grace.”
“For telling a lie. Stealing an apple. Cheating on a school exam. I was married to a man who soured in the war and became a member of an outlaw gang.”
Surprise widened Caleb’s eyes, and he reared his head. “Archibald?”
“Yes. He ended up in a hospital in Santa Fe. I received a telegram saying he needed me to come. I was his wife, so I boarded a stagecoach and went to him.”
“Alone?”
She nodded. “Turns out he’d mouthed off in a saloon and gotten himself beaten pretty badly. When he recovered, he and his cronies taught me how to ride and shoot, then when I would put on a show, and everyone in town was gathered to watch me, Archie and the brothers cleaned out the tills in shops and telegraph offices. Whatever they could get into.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Neelie yanked a handful of grass out by the roots. “I knew it was wrong.” She tossed the grass into the breeze. “I thought he loved me. I trusted him. And by the time I realized I couldn’t trust him, I believed I had no way out of that life.”
“If only I’d known.” A muscle in his tight jaw twitched. That was the big brother she loved—the one who would protect her, if he could. “If you’d known I was alive, I could’ve—”
“Gotten yourself killed, that’s what.” She stood, and he did, too. “Archie was drunk and complaining about his take on a robbery when the leader shot him.”
“How awful. But they let you go?”
“I managed to escape the hideout just before the posse showed up to take them all in.”
“How did the posse find them?”
“I’d had enough. I found a woman at the mercantile who seemed nice enough and slipped her a note for the sheriff. I told him where to find the brothers and Archie. I didn’t know they’d kill him before the sheriff had time to catch them.”
Caleb blew out a long breath. “You did the right thing.”
“Archie’s still dead. And I’m the one who followed him down paths I’m ashamed of.”
Caleb leaned forward and reached for her hand. “I know what it feels like to take paths that bury you in shame.”
They had so much in common. “Anna helped you get back on the right path?”
“Yes. God used Anna, the captain, and a couple of the other trail hands. They reached out to me and helped me see the truth and trust God with my past. They reminded me that I couldn’t earn His forgiveness or make things right by my actions, and that I wasn’t beyond God’s unexplainable grace and mercy.” He looked her in the eye. “You aren’t either, sis.”
Neelie took several breaths, soaking in his words. Tears pooled her eyes, and she let them fall. “Though tossed about?”
“Just as you are.” He pulled her into an embrace, and her tears drenched his shirt.
Angus had seen past her appearance and taken an instant liking to her. Maisie, too. Anna had treated her like a long-lost sister. And Caleb, though surprised at first and maybe even put off by her rough exterior, had provided for her and followed her today because he didn’t want her to leave. Had God been using them to reach out to her?
On the ride back to camp, she’d have a long-overdue conversation with Him. But now she at least knew where to start.
Lord, I need You. Please be the keeper of my heart.
They’d ridden about a mile when the squeaks and groans of a wagon and the hoofbeats of a team lifted Neelie’s gaze to the road up ahead. A covered farm wagon led by four mules was approaching. An older couple sat on the seat swaying with every turn of the wheels.
“Looks like they might have had company at camp while we were gone.” As the mules drew closer, Caleb waved his hat in a greeting.
The wagon rolled to a stop in front of them and a stick-thin man waved a weathered hand. “Hello, folks. Headin’ that way, you’ll come across a camp of wagons. Real welcoming folks. Had some coffee for us.”
“Good afternoon.” Her brother set his hat back on his head. “We’re part of that company, thank you. I’m Caleb Reger. This is my sister, Neelie.”
Neelie gave the couple a polite nod. “Sir. Ma’am.” They had her attention until a high-pitched whinny jerked her gaze to the back of the wagon. “Your horse?”
“A Spanish mustang we found a couple weeks back.”
“Whistle!” Her heart pounding, Neelie practically jumped off the chestnut mare and dashed to the back of the wagon where her mustang bucked the rope, kicking up a cloud of dust. His head nearly pushing her over, she managed to untie the lead. She grabbed a hank of mane at his withers and sprang onto his back. He glided into kicks and spins—part of the countless shows they’d put on. When she finally brought Whistle to a stop, she saw that Caleb and the couple stood at the front of the wagon watching her, their mouths hanging open.
“Ma’am.” The man held his felt hat to his chest. “I’d say that’s your horse. He wasn’t at all keen on letting anyone near him … until you showed up.”
“Yes, sir.” Neelie patted the mustang’s neck. “Whistle and I got separated in a buffalo stampede a few weeks back. I thought I’d never see him again.”
“When we found him, he had a saddle on him. No rider.”
No mention of saddlebags. Knowing Whistle, he’d probably wasted no time peeling those off against a tree.
The white-haired woman clapped her hands together. “My husband said … well, never mind that. You’re alive. We said many prayers for the poor soul.”
For her. They’d been praying for her? Neelie wiped her eyes and gave Whistle’s ears a good rubbing.
Ian stood at the edge of camp. Again he searched the horizon in the direction he’d seen Neelie ride out more than three hours earlier. She’d asked to use the chestnut mare for a ride. Said she needed some time alone and found it easier to think on the back of a horse.
In the meantime, he’d packed all eight wheels with grease. He’d played a game of checkers with Lyle, Duff, and Angus. He’d watched Blair show Maisie how to start a sampler quilt. He’d visited with a passing couple having coffee with the captain and his wife. He’d filled the water barrel and gathered more wood for their campfire.
While watching the sun’s descent, Ian mulled over the past few weeks. After he’d found Neelie leaving camp that night, he’d believed she wanted a better life than the one she’d been living—alone and afraid of her shadow. He didn’t understand it, but he’d wanted to protect her. To provide that better life for her. It was what he’d tried to do for Rhoda.
When he asked Neelie to marry him, he’d admitted that he needed her. But not like this. Not when he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t run if given the opportunity.
Rolling his shoulders, Ian glanced up at the clouds, which were tinted in pastels of oranges and pinks. Even if Neelie had stopped to do a little shooting, she should’ve been back. Daylight would soon bow to the deep purple of dusk.
During their horseback ride and target practice, he’d realized he might feel more for Neelie than he’d ever thought possible. If she’d realized how badly he’d wanted to kiss her, she might have been scared off.
“Ian.” Garrett Cowlishaw tugged the brim of his white slouch hat in greeting.
“Captain.”
“Sure shapin’ up to be a pretty sunset, isn’t it?”
Ian nodded, but what he felt had nothing to do with appreciation for colors in the sky.
The captain glanced the same direction Ian had been studying. “Guess Caleb’s not back yet.”
“Back?”
“Yeah. He rode off in that direction awhile back.”
Caleb had gone after his sister. Her own brother didn’t trust her to come back.
“If you have the time,” Garrett said, “I could use your help with a cracked spoke.”
“I’d be happy to.” Waiting around for his wife to return certainly wasn’t doing him any good. “Just give me a minute to let my mother and Blair know where I’ll be.” He returned Garrett’s wave and took quick steps toward his camp.
He’d been foolish to trust Neelie.
He had more than himself and his own heart to think of. Mither and the children were growing more and more attached to Neelie. Even if she did come back with Caleb, he couldn’t live like this, wondering when, not if, she would leave him.