A Life Restored (34 page)

The next morning, Thomas slowly made his way down the stairs, his leg already bothering him.
 
The walk to the sawmill did little to help loosen it up.

As he neared the massive mill, the loud screeching of the metal saw cutting wood pierced his ears.
 
He looked around and spotted George Lount, one of the owners of the mill.

“Let’s start you out sweeping up the saw dust,” George yelled above the noise.
 
“Dangerous stuff when it gets under foot.
 
Almost like walking on ice.”

Thomas nodded as George thrust a broom his direction.

After sweeping half the morning, George had him move to stoking the steam engine fire.
 
At first, Thomas thought the job would be easy.
 
After fifteen minutes, the heat from the fiery beast caused him to perspire so much that his shirt clung to his chest like a wet rag.
 
He took very few steps in this job.
 
Mostly he bent down to load up a shovel full of scrap wood.
 
Then he flung it into the fire compartment.
 
The constant bending and lifting burned his muscles—something that would have felt good had it not also caused a dull throbbing pain in his left leg.

A whistle blew signaling a break for everyone.
 
Thomas grabbed his cane and the packed lunch Caroline prepared for him.
 
He found a cool shady spot near the creek.
 
Clumsily, he lowered himself to the ground.

The rushing of the creek water sounded muffled after hours of listening to a roaring fire, the loud hum of the steam engine, and the piercing sounds of the saw.
 
A breeze rustled the leaves of the shade trees, offering him some relief.

He devoured his meal, wishing there had been more.

Another whistle blew, announcing it was time to resume work.
 
Taking his cane, he braced hard against it to lift himself from the ground.
 
By the time he stood, all the other men were already back to work at the sawmill.
 
His bad leg complained as he shuffled toward the large steam engine.

“You alright?”
 
George shouted over the noise.
 
“Ain’t looking too good.”

“I’m fine.”

“Let me show you the next area.
 
See how these boards come off the saw and how he’s pushing them down the line?”

Thomas nodded.

“That’s what I want you to do.
 
Whenever you get a bark piece, carry it to the pile over there.
 
Think you can handle it.”

No.
 
Thomas nodded anyway.
 
He needed this job.

By the time the end of the day came, he wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to walk all the way back to his home, much less manage those stairs.
 
Slowly, with pain shooting up and down his leg, he put one foot in front of the other.
 
In twice as much time as what it took him to get there this morning, he made his way home.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a few minutes.
 
He smelled awful.
 
Caroline would probably insist he wash up before supper.
 
Spotting the water pump behind the mercantile, he made his way to it.
 
He filled a bucket and splashed a good amount of water on his face and neck.
 
If it wasn’t in clear view of the street, he would have removed his shirt.
 
Maybe he would talk to Caroline about setting up something down here where he could wash up properly at the end of a hard day.

He turned back toward the stairs.
 
One at a time he forced himself up them.
 
When he opened the door, delicious aromas greeted him.

“Welcome home.”
 
Caroline kissed his cheek.

He flopped into a chair at the table letting his cane slip to the floor with a clatter.
 
Caroline tried to engage him in conversation, but he was too tired to pay much attention.
 
As soon as the meal ended, he fell into bed, despite her protests that it was too early.

In the middle of the night, he woke with a start, his left leg cramping wildly.
 
He cried out.
 
Caroline stirred.

“What’s wrong?”

“My leg.”

She reached to light a lamp next to the bed but he grabbed her arm.

“No need… to light…”
 
The pain shortened his words.

“Should I fetch the doctor?”

“No.”

“Tell me what to do.”

He curled into a ball, rubbing his leg with one hand.
 
In the darkness, Caroline followed his arm to his hand to his leg.
 
Gently, she began rubbing his leg.
 
The intensity of the pain lessened some, but it still hurt.

Thomas moaned.

“Do you want me to make some willow bark tea?”

She didn’t wait for his answer.
 
Instead, she slid from the bed and lit a lamp.
 
She put some water on to heat and made the tea for him.
 
Once it was ready she brought it to his side.

“Drink.”

He took the offered mug and sipped the awful tea he had become so familiar with.
 
As he drank, she brushed his hair back from his forehead.
 
What had he ever done to deserve such a woman?

When the tea began to dull the pain, he relaxed again and finally fell asleep.

The next morning, as he neared the sawmill, he dreaded what the day would hold.
 
A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him he would not last at this job.
 
Though his heart desired to do well and succeed, physically he could not handle it.
 
His leg pained him from the moment he woke this morning.

After half of a day trying to keep up with the boards fresh from the saw, George Lount pulled him aside.

Thomas looked at the saw dust covered floor as George said, “I been watching you all morning and…
 
It pains me to do this.
 
I know you have a little one on the way.
 
But, I just don’t think milling is the right work for you.”

Thomas’s head snapped up and he looked George in the eye.
 
“Are you firing me?”

“Hate to do it, but yes.”

Rage burned in his veins as he clenched his jaw shut, lest he say something foolish.
 
Grabbing his cane, he left the mill behind.

How could this be happening to him?
 
He trusted God to help him find something.
 
What would he do now?

Making his way down the street, he stopped and leaned against a post on one of the buildings.
 
Only thing he had ever been good at was riding.
 
Well, that wasn’t true.
 
He had been really good at gambling too.
 
Poker was his game of choice.
 
He could read the other players easy as could be.
 
He just had a natural talent for it.

An idea started growing in his mind.
 
Perhaps he could take some of the money he had left from his winnings in La Paz back in December, and he could use it at the poker tables.

No.
 
He had changed.
 
He wasn’t that man any more.
 
He wanted to do honest work.

Sighing, Thomas looked further down the street, the idea sliding to the back of his mind.
 
He could not go home.
 
Caroline would be upset, though she probably wouldn’t even know he was there until the mercantile closed for the day.
 
His feet led him that direction anyway.

A sign in the window of the newspaper office caught his attention.
 
“Help wanted,” it said.

Maybe this would be a better job for him.
 
He might even be able to sit for part of the day.

The heavy smell of ink tickled his nose as he entered the building.
 
The place seemed empty, but a small bell sat on the front counter near the door.
 
Thomas rang the bell.
 
A short man appeared from the back of the building behind a wall.

“Can I help you?” he said.
 
He started to extend his ink covered hands and then thought better of it.

“I see you’re looking for help.”

“Ah, yes.
 
Any experience with printing presses?”

Thomas shook his head.

“Clerical work?”

Again he shook his head.

The man looked Thomas over from head to toe, his gaze snagging on the cane in his left hand.
 
“Name’s Hand.
 
Tinsdale Hand.
 
I’m willing to start you out on a trial basis if you’re willing to learn.”

Thomas introduced himself.
 
“I am a fast learner.
 
Just tell me where to start.”

Hand explained that his duties would include clerical work at the front desk in addition to selling newspapers.
 
He would help with the printing as well as cleaning up the shop.
 
Hand led him to the back where the printing press was located.
 
Trays of letters sat on a counter.

“Those are all set for this edition,” Hand explained.
 
“I’m in the middle of the printing process.
 
I’ll show you how to do it.
 
Next edition, I’ll show you how to set the letters.
 
That will be one of the biggest parts of your job.”

By the end of the afternoon, Thomas’s discouragement faded.
 
He thought he picked up the printing process pretty quickly.
 
Hopefully he would pick up the other duties just as quickly.
 
Maybe he was good at more than gambling and riding.

A smile stretched across his lips as he climbed the stairs to his home.
 
He could do this.
 
He could provide for his wife and his coming child.
 
He didn’t have to rely on his past to make a new and better future.

Chapter 35

“He lost his job at the sawmill,” Caroline said.

Betty held back a sigh as her heart went out to both Thomas and Caroline.

“But, he started at the newspaper this morning.”

“That’s good, dear,” she said, reaching a hand across the table to reassure Caroline with a gentle pat.

“I just wish he would open up more.”

She remembered wishing the same thing countless times in her marriage with Henry.
 
Men were just different and most that she met tended not to open up their hearts even to those closest to them.
 
Such news would not be welcomed, so Betty held her tongue.

“He seems so…
 
So down.
 
Like he’s lost or something.”

“Well, dear, he’s had a lot to deal with.
 
He was used to making his living riding for the express and for the Army before that.
 
I’m sure it is difficult to find something else he is good at.”

“I know.
 
I think he’s still in a lot of pain, too.
 
He’s woken up in the middle of the night several times due to cramping or pain in his leg.
 
And he’s exhausted when he comes home at night.”
 
Caroline picked at the remnants of her lunch.
 
“I just want him to be happy.
 
And I want him to stop dodging my questions about his past.”

Though concerned, Betty smiled.
 
She wanted to give Caroline hope in the midst of her newlywed jitters.
 
“He has to find his own way, dear.
 
It may take him awhile to figure it all out. And he’s a husband, soon to be a father.
 
That can add a lot of pressure for a man.
 
Give him time.”

Sighing heavily, Caroline pushed her plate away and stood.
 
“I’d better head back to the mercantile before Abraham starts to wonder what’s keeping me.”

“Thank you for coming, dear.
 
I loved having you.”

Betty waved farewell to Caroline as she left.
 
She couldn’t shake a feeling of concern for the young couple.
 
From their conversation, it didn’t sound like Thomas had told his wife anything about his past.
 
While it seemed to be breaking Caroline’s heart, Betty thought it might break her heart even more to learn the truth.

Oh, she had seen a definite change in Thomas since he returned from his time at Quinn’s ranch.
 
But, she worried that the change was tentative at best—especially if he continued to struggle with finding work.
 
So far it looked like things were working out.
 
Betty decided a prayer would be just the thing to help her stop worrying about the couple.
 
Lord, help that young man to trust you deeply.
 
Help him to find his place.

She smiled as she looked around the kitchen in the house.
 
She had been quite content in the small room off of the dining hall kitchen, but Paul insisted she move into the house to the room he made especially for her.
 
Her heart nearly burst with love for her son.

All his life, this was how he showed his love.
 
He did things for her.
 
He just happened to appear to carry a load of laundry into the house on a day when she was feeling tired from raising his three siblings alone.
 
He stopped at the mercantile on his way home from picking up his sisters and brother from school because she had mentioned she was almost out of flour.
 
It was those little things that warmed her heart and reminded her of the sensitive man he was underneath the very tough exterior he tried to portray in his late teens and early twenties.

She knew he had been hurting over Henry’s death just like she was—like the other children were.
 
But, he tried to run from it.
 
That was what got him into so much trouble.

Betty sighed heavily.
 
He wasn’t that man anymore.
 
She should remember that when she worried that Thomas would not change.
 
Paul had.
 
It had been slow at first.
 
Sometimes he did well, and sometimes he failed miserably.
 
Thomas’s new faith would likely work itself out in a similar way.

A knock at the doorway startled her.

“Ma’am.
 
You want some of the beef in here too?” Snake asked.

“Sure,” she said, trying to keep the hesitation from her voice.
 
Ben normally brought her beef.

As if reading her mind, Snake said, “Ben said to tell ya he’d was busy with a bunch of errands in town today and he won’t have time to stop by.
 
He said he’d see ya Sunday if not before.”

Warmth spread to her cheeks.
 
“Thank you, dear.”

“Ma’am.”
 
Snake nodded as he set a crate of beef on the table.
 
Then he turned and left.

An edge of sadness wedged in her heart.
 
She had been looking forward to seeing Benjamin today.
 
It seemed they had much more time together with fewer distractions when he delivered beef than they had during Sunday dinner.
 
Their little gathering had grown to include the Colters, the Larsons, the Pages, the Andersons, the Morgans—a family that farmed near Colter Ranch—and even a few of the younger cowboys from Colter ranch.
 
What were their names again?
 
Oh, yes.
 
Jed, Hawk, and Matt.
 
Sweet young lads.
 
She suspected their frequent attendance had something to do with Caroline, though they continued to come to church after she married, so maybe that wasn’t the case.

She loved the big meals.
 
It was how she always pictured this stage of her life.
 
Big family dinners.
 
Grandchildren running around.
 
She just wished Paul would settle down and start a family of his own so some of those grandchildren would truly be hers.

After putting away the beef, she left the quiet of her kitchen and headed toward the laundry line.
 
She started pulling down the dry sheets and folded them neatly in a basket.

“Need some help?” Paul asked.

She smiled.
 
“Thank you, son.”

He followed her to Gold Rush carrying the basket for her.

“How was your time with Ben?”

“Oh, he wasn’t here.”

“Thought I saw some of the boys from the ranch.”

“Yes.
 
Snake was here.
 
I didn’t see who else came with him.
 
I guess Ben was a little busy today.”
 
She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice.

Paul set the basket on one of the lower bunks and handed her the first set of sheets.
 
“I’m sure he must be if he’d forego an afternoon with you,” he teased.

Betty shrugged.

“You gonna marry him, Ma?”

“Heavens!
 
Where did that idea come from?”

“I think you two would be great together.
 
He’s patient—have to be to put up with you.”

“Hey—”

“He’s kind.
 
He loves you very much.”

Betty tucked the corners of the sheets under the mattress of the lower bunk.
 
Picking up the next set, she moved to the next bunk.

“You don’t love him?”

She stopped tucking in the sheet and turned toward her son.
 
“I do love him.”

“Then you’ll marry him.”

It wasn’t a question.
 
Her son seemed to understand her heart better than she did.
 
Well, her heart was not what held her back.
 
It was her head.

“What about you, Paul?
 
Would you run the boardinghouse by yourself?”

“I have the Pengs.”

“But, you’ll need more help than that.”

“I’ll get by.
 
Always have.”

She sighed.
 
“If I didn’t know better, I would think you
want
me to leave.”

Paul hugged her and rested his head on the top of her head.
 
“Never.
 
But, I think it’s time you put yourself first for once.
 
You been seeing to the needs of others for so long, you’ve forgotten that it’s okay to do something for yourself.
 
Marrying Ben—well you’d just have to care for him and enjoy life with him.”

He stepped from the embrace.
 
A roguish grin spread across his face.
 
“And you’d be close to the Colters and their babies.”

“Paul!”
 
She swatted at his arm but he moved away.
 
“I see what you’re saying.”

“Just think about it, Ma.
 
You deserve to be happy.”

“He has to ask first.”

The extra twinkle in Paul’s eye made her suspicious.
 
Something was going on and she thought her son might be in on it.

Just hope she’s not too disappointed, Ben thought.
 
If it wasn’t for his little plan, he never would have given up his dinner with Betty.
 
He missed her, despite seeing her every Sunday.
 
It just wasn’t the same as their quiet meals together when he was in town during the week.

He hoped to change that all very soon.

“Here’s some fabric that should work very nicely for curtains,” Caroline said.

Ben hesitated.
 
Maybe he should let Betty pick it out.
 
What if she didn’t like it?
 
“Do ya think Betty would like it?”

Caroline tapped one finger against her temple.
 
“Yes.
 
I think she would.
 
Or this one.”
 
She held out another bolt of fabric.

A choice to make.
 
Not what he was hoping for.

“Which one is better?”

Caroline pointed to the second one.

“Great.
 
I’ll take it.
 
Can ya wrap it in some brown paper?”

An eyebrow inched its way higher on Caroline’s forehead but she nodded anyway.

Ben held back a chuckle.
 
If he’d overhead the conversation he just had with Caroline, he’d be a bit confused too.
 
He didn’t want to give away anything about his plan for tomorrow.
 
He wanted everything to be a surprise.

“You need some help loading that stove in the wagon?” Abraham asked.

“Already asked Paul.”

Abraham smiled.
 
“Good choice.
 
Between the two of you, I’m sure you’ll get it settled.”

Ben paid for all his purchases, almost staggering at the hefty sum.
 
Never in his whole life had he spent that much at the mercantile at one time.

Giddy anticipation sent little flutters to his stomach.
 
Everything was going to be perfect.
 
Betty would be duly surprised and he was pretty sure she would love every little detail of his plan.

Grabbing the wrapped fabric, he headed to the back of the mercantile where Paul and Snake waited.
 
The three of them, after much jockeying, finally got the heavy iron stove loaded in the wagon.
 
Then Ben began stacking the rest of his purchases around it.
 
Once everything was loaded, he climbed up into the wagon and started it towards home.

Peace settled over him.
 
Home.
 
Not just home to Colter Ranch.
 
Not home to the bunkhouse.
 
But, home to his cabin.
 
Even though it was on Colter land, it was his cabin.
 
Every last piece of wood.
 
Every last purchase.
 
Every piece of furniture.
 
It was all his.