28

“What should we do?”

Lilac pressed her mittened hands together, her insides all wound tight. Her sisters stood with her in a huddle outside the church Sunday morning, heads bent together against the February chill.

Del snuggled Lily closer in her layers of bundling. “I wish we had a sheriff in Salton.”

“What would we even tell him? It’s not like we have an actual threat.”

“Or do we? Anders said he didn’t know any details.”

Lark shook her head. “I can’t believe Ringwald would come all the way out here just because I beat him at cards over three years ago. Maybe it’s still just rumors.” A thread of doubt undercut the firmness in her words.

“And surely he doesn’t know where we are, anyway,” Forsythia added.

Lilac shivered. “But what if he does? What if he saw me in the saloon last summer and figured something out? Or somehow saw one of our seed catalogs and put two and two together?”

“Those haven’t even had time to arrive anywhere yet. Certainly not before Anders’s telegram.”

“Seems the best we can do is be watchful and tell our close friends in town so they can keep an eye out also. RJ keeps his gun by the door. You girls do too, right?” Del shifted Lily and scanned Lark’s and Lilac’s faces.

They nodded.

“Morning, ladies.” Sam stopped beside them, his breath puffing in the frosty air. “Folks are going in. Lilac, are you ready?”

She nodded and slipped her hand through his arm. He pressed it as they headed up the church steps and into the relative warmth of the building.

“You’re awfully quiet. Everything all right?”

“I don’t know.” Sighing, she followed him into her family’s pew, where he’d begun joining them since their engagement. “I’ll tell you about it after the service.”

Lark beckoned to her from the side aisle, and Lilac jumped up again, having forgotten she was to play today. She took her fiddle from her sister, then hurried to her place up front by the piano.

Mr. Caldwell stood to welcome the congregation, leaning a bit harder on his cane than usual—his war wound must be acting up with the cold. His smile came as warm as ever, though. “Welcome, friends. This is the day the Lord has made.”

“Let us rejoice and be glad in it!” came the hearty response.

Lilac’s lips formed the words, but gladness escaped her today. Her middle still knotted with worry. She closed her eyes for an instant. Lord, help me trust you. I’m afraid.

“Before we begin the service, I wanted to share with you all some wonderful news,” Mr. Caldwell said. “The committee we formed over the summer to search for a new pastor has successfully chosen a candidate. The Reverend Paul Fordham, an experienced minister with a wife and grown children, will be coming to visit our congregation in March. After he gives a candidate sermon, all our members will have the chance to vote to confirm him as our new pastor—a position he will then assume if approved by the congregation.”

Applause broke out, grins spreading from one pew to another.

The attorney beamed out over the congregation. “I see you share my enthusiasm. I am exceedingly grateful for how the Lord has led us in this search, and I look forward to us all having a chance to meet Reverend Fordham. Now, let us rise for our first hymn, ‘Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah.’”

Lilac lifted her fiddle to her chin to play, the words coming as automatically to her lips as the tune to her fingers.

“Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,

Pilgrim through this barren land.

I am weak, but thou art mighty;

Hold me with thy powerful hand.”

Her throat tightened. What a hymn for them this morning. They were indeed weak, but God was mighty.

“Open now the crystal fountain,

Whence the healing stream doth flow;

Let the fire and cloudy pillar

Lead me all my journey through.

Strong Deliverer, strong Deliverer,

Be thou still my Strength and Shield.”

The hymn ended, and Lilac followed Lark to sit back down, the knots loosening in her middle. She slid her hand into Sam’s beside her, the warm pressure of his fingers on hers calming her further, as he always seemed to. The Nielsen sisters had been through many a trial since that sudden scramble to leave Ohio nearly four years ago, yet the Lord had indeed led them all their journey through. Surely He wasn’t about to stop now.

Mr. Caldwell rose to speak again. “On this day of announcing our pastoral candidate, it seems fitting to have share with us the man who started us on this idea in the first place—that is, to use this interim time in our church to hear from various members of this body. And hasn’t it been a worthwhile endeavor?”

Nods and murmurs through the rows.

“I heartily agree. So please join me in welcoming Isaac McTavish to share with us today.”

With a flicker of surprise, Lilac joined in the clapping. She snuck a glance at Lark beside her. By the look on her sister’s face, she hadn’t had an inkling this was coming either.

Oh, Lark. When will you ever let your guard down? Lilac wound her fingers in her lap. Everybody else could see how Lark and Isaac felt about each other. Were they just trying to see who could out stubborn the other? Lord, help them too. There’s so much we need your help with . . . but isn’t that always the case? Lilac blew out a breath as Isaac walked up the aisle. Thanks for being with us in all of it anyway. And please help my sister be brave enough to open her heart.

Isaac turned at the front of the church to face the congregation, sliding his hands into the pockets of his old, threadbare army coat. Funny he wasn’t wearing the new suit they’d seen on him of late, but he must have a reason.

“Mornin’, folks.” Isaac propped one foot on the rung of the chair Caldwell had set near. “I thank y’all for the privilege of sharin’ with you today. Don’t feel worthy of it, to be sure, but I reckon that’s true for all of us. And I know I’ve been blessed by hearin’ testimonies of the Lord’s faithfulness from those who’ve shared this year, and been humbled by your willin’ness to take my little idea and go with it. So I reckoned I’d just share a bit of my own story here today.” He drew a breath and passed a hand over his beard. “Some of which I’ve never told another soul, truth be told, so I thank you for bearin’ with me.”

Lilac cocked her head and sat up straighter. Would Isaac really bring some of his mysterious past to light?

“Reckon y’all know I was in the war.” He spread his hands to lift the corners of his army jacket, bringing chuckles. “Ain’t been somethin’ I’ve tried to hide, nohow. But other things . . . other things I have been hidin’ from, ever since the fightin’ ended, I’ll confess. I remember the first night I met any of you. It was the Nielsen sisters on their journey west.” He glanced at their pew, and Lark’s arm tensed by Lilac’s. “I told them then I’d fought for the Union and had kin on both sides, mayhap like some of you.” He glanced at the Hoffman pew. “Even said I’d been in a Confederate prison camp, as had their brother Anders. But I didn’t tell them it was Andersonville.”

A murmur swept through the gathering. Isaac nodded. “Yep, the one where they hanged Captain Wirz, the prison commandant, for war crimes after the war. I won’t tell y’all much. You don’t need me dredgin’ up all the horrors. But what I do want to tell today is that I was there with my brother.” Isaac inhaled hard through his nose. “I told the Nielsens back then my brothers both died in battle. Well, that weren’t quite true, and I’m sorry.”

Lilac met his eyes, hoping he could tell she bore no malice. Isaac glanced from her to Lark, held his gaze there a moment, then shifted to the rest of the congregation.

“Truth is, I still hadn’t quite faced it myself. But it’s my fault my brother died at that awful place. See, we were plannin’ to escape. We and another prisoner had been diggin’ a tunnel for months, a bit at a time, all the way under the prison walls and to the outside yonder. Some had done the like before and been shot, but a few had gotten out. We thought we had a chance, and we’d reached where we could tell we’d only a few feet to go. The next night was goin’ to be it. Then that night, I come down with the runs.” He winced. “Sorry, ladies. Believe they call it dysentery. Anyways, I weren’t fit to move. I told my brother and our friend to go ahead, leave me behind. Take their best chance and not worry about me.” He rubbed his knee and drew a long breath. “They didn’t want to, but I convinced them to go. And they were caught—and shot. No trial, just dropped where they stood, seconds after climbing out of our tunnel to freedom.” Isaac paused, his jaw working.

Silence hung, as if the entire gathering held their breath. At last he cleared his throat. “Few weeks later, most of us got moved to other camps. Next spring, after the war ended, I went home, found my parents gone and our farm ravaged. So I took to the road with nothin’ but my army bag and bedroll and the uniform on my back. And I never rightly stopped . . . not till I landed in a little town called Salton.”

“Didn’t really stop here either at first,” someone called out behind them.

Lilac frowned over her shoulder.

But Isaac merely rubbed his beard and nodded. “True. I still couldn’t bring myself to stay in one place for too long. But I kept comin’ back here. This little town grabbed hold of my heart in a way I couldn’t rightly figure for a while. Then I realized it weren’t the town. It was the people in it. Closest I’d known to kin since I lost my own.” His gaze rested on the Nielsen pew again. “These last months, I’ve realized a lot of things. One, that it ain’t no use tryin’ to outrun the past. The past is behind us, but its mold shapes us, and denyin’ that . . . well, we neither can nor should. Two, that it can be a heap harder to stay than to leave. But sometimes that might just be why the Lord asks us to do it—because He’s still at work shapin’ all of us, surely as the blacksmith does the iron, if we let Him. And three . . .” He paused again. “Three, that love is a whole lot more powerful than regret. And even if it ain’t returned, letting God’s love have His way in our hearts is mighty worth it.”

Isaac blew out a long breath and lowered his foot from the chair, straightening. “Well, folks, I reckon that’s about all I have to say. Let me leave you with a Scripture my ma quoted so often I can’t recollect a time when I didn’t have it put to memory. ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’” He dipped his head once more. “Might we all take that to heart.”

Lilac couldn’t restrain herself from reaching to squeeze Lark’s hand as Isaac stepped quickly back down the aisle. She wanted to shake her sister and whisper, “See? He’s talking about you!” But Lark sat staring straight ahead, lips pressed together, though her color rose high and her breath came quickly.

Lilac sighed and slumped back against the pew. At this point, she wasn’t sure if even Isaac shouting from the housetops would make much difference.

Sam walked her out after service, and they greeted Jesse and Climie, William, and the Brownsvilles.

“So what’s going on?” Sam drew her aside near the corner of the church building. “You and Lark both seem jumpy today.”

Lilac blew out a breath. “Lots is going on. But the most pressing thing is that we got a telegram from Anders.” She explained as briefly as she could, and Sam’s brows drew together.

“Have you contacted a sheriff?”

“The nearest one is in Lincoln, and right now we don’t really have anything to tell him. Lawmen don’t put much stock in rumors and hearsay.”

“But there must be something we can do.” Sam laid his hand on her shoulder, face flushing. “I’d offer to come sleep out at the farm, except I’m afraid that wouldn’t be proper just now.”

Lilac smiled up at him. “You’re a true knight in shining armor, but I think we’ll be all right. RJ is within shouting distance, and Lark and I are both crack shots.”

Sam raised a brow and sighed. “Are you now? Well, I suppose all I can do is pray. But you’ll let me know if there’s anything else, anything at all?”

“I will.” She patted his arm. “Did you still want to go over wedding plans tomorrow?”

“I do. But should you leave Lark just now?”

“I have to come into town tomorrow to mail some more drawings anyway, but I won’t stay late.”

“I’ll see you at the school right after dismissal, then.” He glanced about, then, since no one near looked on, bent to kiss her.

Lilac hurried to find her sisters, schooling away her smile since such serious matters lay afoot. The smile faded of its own accord when she saw Lark standing by the wagon, watching Isaac visit with a cluster of men. The loneliness and longing on her sister’s face made Lilac’s chest clench.

Lark, will you just admit that he loves you? And you love him?

Had Isaac really been talking about her in church?

Lark sat at the kitchen table Monday after their simple midday meal, packaging seeds and trying to keep from labeling marigolds as zinnias or any other tomfoolery. If only Isaac’s words from yesterday would stop circling through her mind like a persistent fly.

“Love is a whole lot more powerful than regret . . . even if it ain’t returned.”

Lark grabbed for another can of seeds and knocked over a different one, sending phlox seeds scattering all over the table and onto the floor.

“Of all the . . .” She smacked her hand on the table, then dove beneath to start gathering up the seeds. They couldn’t afford to lose even a few.

“You all right?” Lilac hurried in, buttoning her coat.

“Fine.” Lark winced at the bite in her own voice. “Going to town?”

“If you’re sure you don’t mind.” Lilac hesitated. “I can wait another day or two if you think that would be safer.”

“Go ahead.” Lark pinched up the last of the seeds she could see in the light from the window, she’d have to get a broom for the rest. The packed earth floor made it even harder to see them. She pushed to her feet. “RJ is working on the Leah’s Garden addition to their place, so I’ll be fine. We can’t live every day waiting for a man who might never show up.”

Lilac eyed her, as if wondering if she meant Ringwald or someone else. “All right, then. I’m supposed to meet Sam at the school afterward to talk about the wedding, so I might not be home till chores.”

“It’s fine.” Just go already. Lark flinched at even thinking that.

Lilac pressed her lips together, then picked up her folder of drawings and hurried out the door.

Alone at last, Lark sorted and packaged till the ticking silence made her want to scream. She was a regular crotchety old woman today, cross with company, cross without. Whatever happened to her trusting the Lord with all things, as she prided herself on doing? She finished the tins of seeds she’d set on the table for today and wrapped a shawl over her sweater. Maybe some fresh air would help. She’d go hunting, but her sisters would have her head for setting out on her own, especially right now. Maybe Lilac and Jesse or William would go with her later in the week. Her mouth watered at the thought of fresh venison. They’d been living off rabbit and squirrel from Lilac’s traps l ately.

She tramped through the patchy snow to the barn. Inside Starbright’s Rose stuck her head over a stall and nickered, and Lark rubbed her velvety nose, breathing in the balm of hay and horses. “You all sure are a lot less complicated than people.”

“Lark?” RJ’s call came from the door.

“Here.” She sighed and ducked outside.

“I need some more nails, didn’t realize I was running so low. You have any in the machine shed? I don’t want to go so far as town just now.”

Lark nodded. “There should be a can on a shelf toward the back.”

RJ turned, then spun back around and leaned his hand on the side of the barn. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How long do you intend to make that man wait?”

She stared at him. “What man?”

“Isaac McTavish, who do you think?”

Lark huffed a laugh. “I don’t believe this. Are you and Anders conspiring against me?”

“Anders?”

“He sent a letter . . . never mind.” Her eyes suddenly burned. “But I honestly don’t see why it’s any of your business, either of you.”

“Because we care about you, Lark.” RJ puffed a breath and took a step closer. “I know a thing or two about being stubborn myself, and I sure am glad I finally let you folks here in Salton get through to me. So I’m asking what’s it going to take to get through to you?”

“About what?” Lark spread her arms. “What on earth is it you want me to do?”

RJ opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. “The man loves you, Lark. It’s plain to everyone else around but you. But you’re so determined to live life alone you’re missing the gift God’s put right in front of you.” He clapped his hat on his head. “I just hope you open your eyes before it’s too late.”

Lark stared after him till he disappeared into the machine shed. Then with a whirl, she stormed into the barn, shutting the door so hard Rose startled back in her stall.

“Sorry, girl.” Shoulders slumping, Lark headed over and rubbed the filly’s forehead, then leaned her own against it. And the tears came, hot and spotting Rose’s winter coat. Lark swiped the backs of her hands across her eyes, then gave up, buried her face in her arms atop the stall door, and sobbed, the filly gently nosing the elbow of her sweater.

At last she mopped her eyes with her shawl and climbed up into the hayloft, sinking onto a clean pile of hay and sniffing back the clogging in her nose. She hugged her knees close and laid her head on them, wishing she could just be a little girl at her mother’s knee again. Before life got hard and she had to be the grown-up and make decisions for everyone, never being sure if they were right or wrong.

I’m so tired, Lord. Of course I don’t want to go through life alone. Why do they all think I’m so set on that? Of course I’d rather have a strong and good man by my side. Of course I love Isaac. Her eyes filled with hot tears again. I love him, Lord, I do. But I thought . . . I thought a solitary life was what you were calling me to. And I’ve been afraid he’d just leave again, afraid his saying he loved me was too good to be true. Afraid to believe you might actually give me such a gift. She leaned her weary head on the heels of her hands and let all the weight seep out of her in one long shuddering breath. I’m sorry.

She sat there awhile, resting her head on her knees. Heard RJ come out of the machine shed and head off. Let the dozy comfort of the barn loft wrap around her like a hug till she nearly fell asleep.

What is it you would have me do, Lord?

Scamp barked outside, a sharp, shrill bark.

Lark jerked her head up, then scrambled to her feet, senses on high alert. That wasn’t a greeting for RJ or Lilac. That was Scamp’s danger bark. Coyotes again? Or, worse, wolves? She stepped to the loft window and looked out below.

All seemed quiet, the sheep in the corral, no fuss from the henhouse. A gentle curl of smoke from the chimney of the soddy.

Then she heard it: distant hoofbeats. And saw a lone rider coming up the lane.

Scamp barked again, running toward the lane, then planting himself. He growled, a rumbled threat she could hear clear up in the loft.

The rider, clad in a long black coat, drew near. He brought his horse to a stop and sat there, scanning the land. Scamp barked again, and Lark reached for the pitchfork beside her, her heartbeat coming in painful thuds.

Ringwald. She knew it even before the gambler threw back his head and hollered her name.

“Lark! Larkspur Nielsen!”

She shuddered, gripping the pitchfork handle. He had actually come. All their worries, all their carefulness over these years—somehow, he had found them. Oh, why did she have to be up here away from her gun?

Perhaps she could just hide till he went away. Thank you, Father, that Lilac is in town. But Del and RJ and baby Lily were only a short ways away at the other house. Lord, please, keep Ringwald’s focus here. Or bring RJ back alone. She’d scream for RJ, but then the gambler would know where she was.

“Larkspur Nielsen! You come out of there, woman, or I’m comin’ in after you.” He doubled over with a fit of coughing, nearly falling off his horse. Then righted himself and dug under his coat, pulling a revolver from his hip.

Her breath came fast, pulse pounding in her ears.

“Make a fool of me, will you?” Shakily, he raised the gun and nudged his horse toward the soddy. “Humiliate me, in front of everyone? Beaten by a woman, they said. No one took me serious after that. Career went downhill from that very day. Debts pilin’ high. And now I’m dying, they tell me. Well, I’m not leavin’ this earth till I’ve a chance to get even with the person who ruined my life.”

Scamp darted in front of him, barking till his whole body shook with it. Cursing, Ringwald lowered the gun to point at the young cattle dog.

“No!” Lark dropped the pitchfork and scrambled for the ladder. She dashed out of the barn, halting a few yards from the gambler. “Ringwald, wait. I’m here.”

He veered his horse toward her, swinging the gun away from Scamp. A slow smile spread over his haggard face, revealing the glint of a gold tooth she remembered. His clothes were less fine, though. They’d seen several seasons of wear and hung on his frame.

“You.” His voice laced the word with venom.

“I’m here, Ringwald.” Lark raised her hands. “Please don’t shoot. We can talk this out.”

“Thought you’d gotten away from me, didn’t you?” He coughed again, then waved his revolver at the surrounding farm, his finger dangerously near the trigger.

“How did you find us?” Lark managed to keep her voice steady.

“Luck, you might say.” He rasped a laugh. “Finally found my luck again after all these years. Fittin’, all things considered.”

“How?”

“You don’t think I’d leave that town without a friend or two stayin’ behind to be my eyes and ears, do you? Feller of mine saw a parcel layin’ in the post office there in Linksburg. Big package addressed to the Nielsens in Salton, Nebraska. Figured that made a lead worth followin’ up on.”

Lark tightened her grip on the pitchfork. The seed catalogs. After they’d been so careful for so long . . . It must have been the size of the package that got it left sitting out like that.

“Homesteading and a seed business, eh?” He narrowed his gaze. “Tall order for a bunch of women. But you seem to like pastimes not befittin’ a young lady.”

“I regret some of my behavior that evening those years ago.” Lark tried to swallow. “But I was only trying to help my brother. And I beat you fair and square, sir. You have nothing to charge me with. Please, put the gun down, and let’s put this behind us once and for all.”

He barked a laugh, then bent over coughing again, his gun dangling against the side of his leg.

Could she lunge at him, grab the gun before he set it off? Lark measured the distance and angle with her eyes, calculating the odds.

“Behind us?” He wheezed a breath and met her eyes, the emptiness there stunning her soul. “My whole life is behind me. At least let me leave it with some satisfaction.” He raised the revolver and cocked it in one motion.

With a snarl, Scamp launched himself at Ringwald’s foot, hanging on to his boot. The gambler swore and lunged forward toward the dog, falling off his horse with his foot caught in the stirrup. His gun exploded in a puff of smoke as the horse bolted.

Something zinged Lark’s scalp before she even heard the shot. She seemed to fall slowly, hearing Ringwald’s yell, seeing him dragged along the ground by the stirrup. She was glad she was alone, that her sisters weren’t here to see this, that they were safe. Her head slammed the ground, and all went dark.