Authors: Lori Copeland
Tags: #Romance, #Christian, #Fiction, #Christian Fiction, #Foster Parents, #General, #Love Stories
“Sorry,” he muttered.
He sat down at the table and removed his hat. Holly had buttered his corn and poured him a glass of milk. “Thank you, sweetheart.” His gaze focused on Zoe’s as she slid a pan of biscuits out of the oven and carried it to the table. She still had that little wiggle when she walked.
Taking her seat, Zoe reached for Brody’s hand and bowed her head. “Holly, I believe it’s your turn.”
“Dear Lord, thank you for this good food. And for Zoe letting Uncle Cade sit at the table. Amen.”
After grace, Zoe passed the biscuits while Brody doled himself a hefty portion of potatoes. “When are you going to teach me to shoot a pistol, Uncle Cade?”
Will grinned. “Me too.”
Spooning string beans onto his plate, Cade could feel Zoe’s eyes on him. He knew how she felt about guns, so the subject was a delicate one. “You both need to be older before you shoot a pistol, but I’ll show you how to handle a shotgun.”
Zoe ladled gravy over her potatoes. “At their age, why do they have to know how to shoot any gun?”
“They need to know, Red. Boys turn into men. Men feed their families.” He winked at the males.
Zoe passed the butter. “I saw that.”
Grinning, he reached for another biscuit. “Remind me to have a discussion with you about men being men.”
Without looking up, she said, “I know about men being men.”
He bit into his chicken. “What is it with you and guns?”
Brody craned his neck in Cade’s direction. “Ma said she’s been like that ever since Jim got shot in that bank holdup.”
Cade switched subjects. “You gonna eat all those potatoes? Pass a few to me.”
Seth Brighton was mending harness when Cade drove into his barnyard early Wednesday afternoon.
He swung down from the buckboard, and the two men shook hands.
“Well, I declare. Cade Kolby.” Seth grinned from ear to ear. “We heard you were back.” The man’s eyes moved to the pine box lashed to the wagon bed. “What you got there? A man with a price on his head?”
Cade fell into step with the younger man as they walked toward the house. A couple of towheaded kids played in a dirt pile near the back.
“It’s Hague Pearson. He was shot and killed in Suffox County. I’m picking up the body for Pop.”
Seth shook his head. “That’s too bad. Hague never caused no trouble around here. Kept to himself.”
“That’s what I hear. By the way, one of your hogs was out. A couple of your boys helped me chase it back into the pen.”
“That’d be Eddie Lee and Bruce. They’re a big help. Storm blew the fence down, and the hogs got loose,” Seth said as they climbed the steps to the porch. “Sure was sorry to hear about John and your sister. They were good people.”
“Yes, they were.”
“Say, I’ll bet you’re parched. How ’bout a glass of lemonade? Got some cooling in the spring.” He raised his hands and called to one of the kids, “Jimmy! You go on down and fetch the lemonade!” He turned back to Cade. “For a boy jist gettin’ over the measles, he can run like the wind.”
“I can’t stay, Seth. The business in Suffox County took longer than I thought, and I still have one more stop. I’d like to get back before dark, but I wanted to talk to you.”
“Then maybe we’ll just sit in the shade a spell.” Seth ushered him to a chair on the side porch. “Sue Ann,” he called, “you run in and check on your mama.”
Seth settled in the seat next to Cade’s. “Guess I know what you’re here about.”
“Pop said you and your wife were interested in taking in Addy and John’s children.”
“We sure are. That’s a fine bunch of kids. John and I were friends a good many years.”
Jimmy returned with a jug. He sat it down and ran up on the porch to stand in front of Cade. “Are you Will and Brody’s uncle who shoots bad guys?”
Seth took the lemonade and set a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You go on back and play, son. Your pa’s talking business.”
When the boy was out of earshot, Cade said, “I want to get the children settled as soon as possible.” The man’s children appeared happy and well cared for. Pop was right. The Brightons would provide a good home for the kids. In time they would love it here. Seth and Bonnie could give them what he couldn’t. A ma and a pa.
Seth shifted in his chair. “Could be a few weeks before we’re able to take them. Bonnie needs to get back on her feet.”
Cade frowned. “Is your wife ill?”
“Come down with a fever during the night.”
When the young man’s face sobered, Cade wondered how high of a fever.
“We’re expectin’ it’ll pass real quick.”
“You want me to send Doc out to look at her?”
“Sent for him first thing. Sawyer said he had to be over the county line for two, three days.” Swallowing hard, he blinked. “I’m taking the kids to my folks this evening. They’re going to keep them, just in case…”
“Probably wise of you.”
Seth rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “Bonnie will feel bad about this, knowing she could have them right away. She has her heart set on taking Addy’s kids—and we still mean to take them. We’re just gonna have to put it off for a few days…until we see how Bonnie comes along.”
“Of course.” Cade got up to leave. “Anything I can do to help?”
“No. I’d appreciate your prayers, though.” Seth reached out to shake his hand. “We’ll send word the minute Bonnie’s up and about again. It shouldn’t be too long…” Seth pointed to the south end of the house. “I’m building on. We’ll have plenty of room for the young’uns.”
I
t was late in the afternoon before Cade approached the outskirts of Winterborn. Pausing, he stared at the cemetery entrance. He’d put off visiting his family’s graves for as long as he could. He’d avoided cemeteries most of his life due to putting many a man there himself.
He climbed from the wagon and leaned down to pick some blossoms from a clump of wild daisies. In the midst of prairie grass and scattered wildflowers, a lone cottonwood shaded the family plots. Addy would have been at peace knowing she and John would be buried here.
His gaze traveled to nearby headstones, reading the familiar names of those he had known from childhood, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. When he came to the inscription “Mac and Senda Kolby—Together in life, Eternal in death,” his vision blurred. Ma’s and Pa’s graves.
Kneeling, he observed a moment of silence. He hadn’t talked to the Lord much in the past few years. It seemed that if he didn’t talk to the Lord, he might not have kept up on Cade’s whereabouts. He moved to Addy’s and John’s fresh graves, where he laid the handful of daisies among the wilted bouquets left by other mourners. Rising, he removed his hat and tried to remember a prayer. Any prayer. It was hard. He hadn’t prayed in a long time.
God, you’re a whole lot better than I am, and I suppose you know what you’re doing, but there’s four little kids left with broken hearts.
Shame washed over him. When he was a boy, there hadn’t been a Sunday when he wasn’t seated next to his ma at the Good Shepherd Church, listening to Pa preach the Word. Senda Kolby had raised her children with an iron hand and a forgiving heart. She lived and died by the Ten Commandments, and expected others to do the same. Had she been disappointed in him? Was it her prayers that had kept him alive all these years?
The peacefulness was broken by the call of a meadowlark overhead. He glanced up as the bird flew away, and he envied its freedom. Addy’s image swam before his eyes. The vivid picture of his little sister falling out of a toy wagon, tears running down her dirt-streaked face. He’d led her to the front porch and set her in the swing, wiping away her tears with his shirttail.
An emotional half chuckle escaped him. He had given her his prized slingshot, hoping it would make her feel better.
“Sorry, I’m all out of slingshots, sis.” In his estimation, no one had been good enough for his sister. To Addy’s dismay, he had run off more promising suitors than you could shake a stick at.
His gaze shifted to the grave beside Addy’s. He wished he’d known John Wiseman. In Addy’s letters, she’d praised the man she’d married. Through her words, he had felt her happiness, a happiness that was short lived.
The crunch of dry buffalo grass caught his attention, and his hand slid to his gun. Then he heard Zoe’s voice call out, “It’s me, Cade.”
Turning, he watched her approach the graves, carrying a small basket of flowers. She was flushed from the walk. A few straggling tendrils of hair stuck to her face, glistening with tiny beads of sweat. She had a natural beauty that didn’t require kohl or rouge to turn a man’s head.
“This is the last place I thought I’d find you today.” Setting her basket on the ground, she wiped her forehead with a handkerchief. “The children are looking for you.”
“What do they want?”
“Nothing in particular. They’re with Pop now. Why are your cheeks wet?”
He turned away. “It’s hot here.”
She picked up a handful of flowers. “I don’t know why men are so embarrassed to cry. It’s a natural thing to do under the circumstances.”
“I’m sweating.”
“You’re crying.”
His gaze met and held hers. “Do you always have to have the last word?”
“Only when I’m right.”
Stepping around him, she laid flowers on Addy’s and John’s graves, and then proceeded to Jim’s. Cade felt a pang of envy when he saw her somber expression. Had she loved her husband deeply? He hoped Jim had made her happy. It seemed that all he, Cade, had brought her was misery.
Standing before Jim’s marker, she bowed her head. He wanted to comfort her, but it wasn’t his place. She had enough pain to handle.
She laid flowers on Jim’s grave and her parents’ graves and then moved to his parents’ resting place. She pulled long strands of grass away from their headstone, and then placed marigolds against the simple crosses.
“You come here often?” he asked, ignoring the guilt that swept him. Until today, he’d never put a flower on Ma’s or Pa’s graves.
“As often as I can.”
“Do you always put flowers on my folks’ graves?”
“I guess it’s habit. Addy and I used to come here together.”
“I appreciate it.”
“It’s no bother.” Straightening, she dusted her hands, glancing at the sun. “It’s a scorcher today.”
“Real hot.”
She smiled. “I know. You’ve been sweating. “
He turned to walk away, and she latched onto his arm. “We need to talk.”
“Here?”
She shook her head, and he wondered if she guessed his reluctance to linger in a cemetery.
“There’s some shade over there,” she pointed to a tree outside the gate.
Their shoes kicked up puffs of dust. Grasshoppers jumped beside them as they trod the rutted path. The scent of dry hay hung thick in the stifling summer air.
Zoe’s gaze went to Cade’s horse and the sheriff’s wagon behind. “I see you picked up Hague.”
“Yes. I need to get him to the undertaker.” Already the foul scent seeping from the pine box turned one’s stomach.
Moving toward the tree, she motioned for him to follow. “Let’s rest a moment.”