A Love to Last Forever (7 page)

Beth pored over the pages of her book until her candle was a tiny stub, then finally blew out the flickering flame. With a sigh, she imagined herself dressed in regal court apparel, dancing in the arms of the handsome Lord Wodehouse. But when she closed her eyes, it was Nick’s face she saw.

“Do I care for him?” she whispered.

She had to admit there was something about him that always caused her heart to beat a little faster. Beth could easily see herself at his side—as his wife. What kind of life might they have together? She tried to picture the home they might share—the children they might raise.

Ellie’s sad expression came back to haunt her, however. Ellie had lost her husband, only to find herself without family or friend. Prostitution had been her only recourse. Beth shuddered. What if she married Nick and something happened to him?

“But I have family,” she told herself. “Family and friends. Ellie had neither.”

Beth couldn’t help but wonder where God was in all of Ellie’s affairs. She hadn’t wanted to become a prostitute. She had very nearly died from starvation and had so few choices left to her when Rafe came into her life. Where had God been? Why hadn’t He heard Ellie’s cries for help? Did God only listen to certain people while ignoring others? Where were the townsfolk—the church folk? Was no one else willing to help the downtrodden?

Someone had once told Beth that difficult trials were God’s ways of growing a person’s faith, but the very idea that God would put Ellie through such horrors made God seem rather cruel and trite. And Beth didn’t believe for one moment that God was either.

“I wish I could do more to help them,” she whispered against her pillow.
If only Rafe would simply close down the saloon
and set them all free.
But even as she thought it, Marie’s words came back to haunt Ellie. Where would they go, even if they were free?

CHAPTER FIVE

The mingled aromas of roasted pork, venison, freshly baked bread, and coffee filled Gallatin House and left its guests longing for the Thanksgiving meal to begin. The table was filled to overflowing with such a wide variety of dishes that Beth couldn’t help but wonder if they’d made too much. Especially now that Rafe and his bunch weren’t coming.

She was glad to see that the weather had continued to be unseasonably warm. This had allowed Patience and Jerry Shepard to make the celebration, as well as Dave. Lacy appeared to avoid the sheriff’s deputy at every turn, but otherwise, everyone seemed delighted to share the food and festivities together.

Millie and Evan sat at the end of one large trestle table with Forrest. Nick and Simon sat on either side of their uncle and regaled the entire table with stories of their life in Montana. Beth couldn’t help but smile. This was how she’d always imagined her life: a houseful of family and friends, everyone happy and joyful. It was really all she’d ever wanted—a sense of family and community. Lady Effingham believed family to be the most important thing for a woman—family and the love of a faithful man.

Beth had always had the family, of course. Her sisters were as dear to her as anyone could be. So, too, had been her grandparents, aunt, father, and mother. But life back when they were still alive was in constant upheaval. Beth had craved stability and consistency all of her life, and now she finally had a chance for that. She and her sisters were committed to running Gallatin House, and it was the thing she was truly most grateful for this Thanksgiving. Of course, the love of a faithful man wouldn’t have hurt, either. She grinned. That would have been something to be most thankful for. If only God would send Beth her very own Lord Wodehouse.

“I thought I should share the Word of God before we begin to enjoy this feast,” Hank declared. He stood and opened his Bible and read from Psalm 147. “ ‘Praise ye the Lord: for it is good to sing praises unto our God; for it is pleasant; and praise is comely. . . . He healeth the broken in heart, and bin-deth up their wounds. He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of great power: his understanding is infinite. The Lord lifteth up the meek: he casteth the wicked down to the ground. Sing unto the Lord with thanksgiving; sing praise upon the harp unto our God.’ ” He closed the Bible and sat down. “Jerry, would you ask the blessing?”

Jerry Shepard nodded and began to pray. Beth barely heard the words, however. She was still thinking on the verses Hank had read. God was in the business of healing the brokenhearted and binding up the wounded. He was a gatherer of outcasts—and yet He also cast down the wicked. Her father came to mind, and Beth couldn’t help but wonder if God would cast down the wicked who were responsible for his death.

“Amen,” Jerry said, and everyone around Beth murmured the same.

Beth glanced up as everyone seemed to begin talking at once. She tamped down her guilt once more and tried not to think of how life might’ve been had their father survived his wounds. It would have been awful to pack up once again and move away. Beth would have cried herself to sleep every night if that had happened. It seemed silly, she knew. Here she was a grown woman, and yet such things had the power to make her miserable.

“Would you like some green beans?”

Beth looked up to see Patience smiling and holding out a bowl. “Yes, please,” Beth said, taking the bowl. “I’m afraid I was daydreaming a bit.”

“Your sister was just saying that you were up quite late last night making pies.”

“Ah, yes,” Beth said, taking a portion of the beans and passing them to Lacy. “We were very busy. I suppose I didn’t sleep all that well, either. Too excited about today.” She smiled and gave Patience’s arm a pat. “I’m just so glad to have you all here.”

“Beth, could you bring in more bread?” Gwen asked.

“Of course.” Beth got to her feet and hurried to the kitchen, where she nearly jumped a foot at the sight of Cubby. “I didn’t think you were coming today.”

“Pa said we weren’t, but with him still sleepin’, I didn’t figure he’d know the difference. Do you mind if I join you? It sure smells good.”

Beth smiled. “You most certainly can join us. Let me fetch you a plate.” She hurried to the cupboard. “I’m sure we’ll all keep your secret. No one should be punished for eating dinner when they’re hungry.”

“My pa wouldn’t agree with you, but I don’t much care,” Cubby admitted.

Beth ushered Cubby into the dining room with a platter of bread and a dinner plate. “Look who’s come to join us,” she announced.

“Cubby! We’re so glad you came. Did your father change his mind?” Gwen asked. “Are the others coming, as well?”

“No,” the boy replied and took the seat offered him beside Hank. “I snuck out. Pa’s still sleeping.” The boy piled food onto his plate and began to attack it as if he hadn’t seen sustenance in months. Beth was amazed at how much he could eat.

“How goes setting up the wheelwright and wagon business?” Hank asked Forrest.

“Rather slow at this point,” Forrest admitted. “We’re still trying to decide how to work things. Simon and Nick think that once we’re established, the stage company will keep us plenty busy.”

“I don’t doubt that a bit,” Hank replied. “The road from Salt Lake to here is quite difficult. I’m surprised they don’t have to replace the wheels more often than they do.”

“I managed to talk with some folks in Bozeman,” Evan added. “There’s already some wagon workers over there, but we all figured with the way the community is growing, there will be business enough for everyone.”

“That brings up another topic,” Hank said as everyone continued to eat. “We have expanded considerably since my arrival earlier this year. At this rate, we’ll need to consider naming this area and maybe even incorporating.”

“I’ve been thinking much the same,” Jerry Shepard joined in. “The area will need law and order, to be sure.”

“That’s true,” Lacy added. “Especially since we have so little of it now.” Lacy didn’t so much as look at Dave, but Beth noted his discomfort.

“Not only that,” Hank said, “but as Gwen and I were discussing recently, the influx of new families will create a need for schools and churches. Not to mention physicians and additional businesses. Most of you know that I’ve set up an informal bank, but to be quite honest, it appears that it will quickly become a full-time job, and I’ll have to add on to the store to create a place just for financial transactions.”

“It can’t hurt to make plans for the future,” Nick said thoughtfully. “It’s a good place for a town. Good source of water and transportation. Even if the train goes in to the north, we’re still on the main road. With all the ranches around here, we’re certain to have work.”

“That’s exactly what I was telling Gwen,” Hank continued. “It seems to me that we should at least think about giving a name to this place.”

“Well, everyone knows about Gallatin House. And since the stage has to cross the Gallatin River to arrive here, what if we called it Gallatin Crossing?” Patience suggested.

Dave nodded. “I like that idea. Most folks refer to it as the Gallatin Place anyway. Seems like calling it Gallatin Crossing would be appropriate.”

“I wouldn’t want folks thinking we were putting on airs and using our last name as some sort of desire for recognition,” Gwen threw out. “I mean, the county is already called Gallatin; maybe we should consider something else.”

“No one is going to think anything of it,” Patience assured. “Besides, like Dave said, most folks already reference this area in relationship to the stage stop. It seems a wise choice to avoid confusion.”

“You don’t suppose people would confuse it for Gallatin City, do you?” Beth questioned.

“No, I would hardly think so. Since Bozeman took over as county seat, that poor town has little left to it,” Jerry answered.

“I think Gallatin Crossing would be a fine name.”

“So how does one go about making that official?” Nick asked. “How do we become a town?”

Hank grew thoughtful. “We’ll need to check out the territorial law and see what’s required. I doubt that it’s all that difficult. I do know there is a difference between simply calling yourself an unincorporated town and incorporating. We’ll take it one step at a time. The only thing that might influence our timing would be the railroad.”

“And that could take years,” Jerry said. “They’ve stopped and started that line several times before. There’s no telling if it will actually get completed this time around.”

“I think that’s a good point,” Hank replied. “Of course, once the line is determined, even if it hasn’t been built, it’s going to cause a stir, and land prices will go up. I’ll do what I can to check out the particulars. But until then, there’s no reason we can’t refer to ourselves as Gallatin Crossing.”

Cubby jumped up, noting the time. “It’s late. Pa will surely be waking up by now. I’d best be on my way. Thanks for dinner.” He didn’t wait to discuss the matter but quickly headed to the back door. “Bye, Lacy,” he said over his shoulder.

“Wait,” Beth called out. She followed him into the kitchen. “Would you like a piece of pie? We have several just waiting.”

He looked at her rather wistfully. “Sure sounds good, but I can’t very well take it with me.”

“If I cut the piece small,” Beth suggested, “you could eat it on your way home. Then no one has to be the wiser.”

Cubby nodded. “That might work. I figured to go the long way around the store and come down the road so that no one suspected. That would give me plenty of time to eat it.” He grinned. “You wouldn’t need to cut it too small.”

Rafe pushed around the beans on his plate and silently cursed the Gallatin women and their stupidity. If they would have just minded their own business, he might have had the chance to eat roasted pig and some of their delicious pie. His mouth watered just thinking about it, and the beans did nothing to ease his misery.

“Biscuits are done,” Wyman said, tossing a pan on the table.

Rafe took one of the hot biscuits and slathered it with butter. Wyman did likewise, and the two ate in silence. For all of his life, Rafe felt he’d gotten nothing but the short end of the stick. It seemed he always managed to sidestep the easy route and head right to a rougher path. It wasn’t out of desire; it just seemed to be his lot in life.