Lightning and Lace (12 page)

What was the truth?

Bonnie Kahler stayed constantly on his mind, and she shouldn’t. No woman should ever occupy his thoughts like that again. It was like poison for all Travis touched.

Footsteps sounded, and he stood as Grant and Zack made their way into the office. His gaze fixed on the boy, but he couldn’t tell if the worrisome lines on his forehead were regret or the same anger.

“Zack and I had a little talk,” Grant said. “I told him all I knew about his father’s illness and resulting death.”

“I think I’d like to see Mama,” Zack said.

Travis held back a strong desire to let out a war whoop. “Do you want to talk to her now?”

Zack nodded. He turned to his uncle. “Who offered to buy our ranch?”

“Lester Hillman.”

Zack set his jaw. “I reckon he had the money to do it. Thanks, Uncle Grant, for taking the time to tell me the truth.”

“Glad to help. I hope things between you and your mama work out soon. Brother Travis, would you like to take my buggy?”

“Thanks. I’m saving for a horse, and hopefully I’ll have the money saved soon. It’s kinda hard and humiliatin’ depending on other folks for traveling.”

Travis shook Grant’s hand, and in short order, he and Zack made their way toward the Morning Star.

“I assume you want to speak to your mama alone,” he said.

“I’m not sure. I have a hard time when she cries. Makes me feel bad and usually makes me mad.”

“Most men are that way. We want to make things right for womenfolk, but when they cry, we don’t know what to do.”

Zack nodded. Today he’d been able to face and discuss one of the things weighing heavily on his heart. Praise the Lord.

Bonnie heard the rattle of a wagon and the hum of voices. She glanced up from her mending to see Grant’s horse and wagon. Jenny and the girls must be with him. She laid aside Michael Paul’s buttonless shirt and hurried to the door just as a knock sounded. Visiting with her family always sounded better than pricking her finger with a needle. She opened the door and was startled to see Brother Travis and Zack.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Kahler. I hope we aren’t interrupting you.”

“Not at all. Do come in.” She resisted the urge to hug Zack. Their last meeting had been somewhat disastrous, and the thought of having it repeated churned her stomach. Zack wasn’t frowning. Dared she hope this could be good? She glanced from her son to Brother Travis. What would the town’s preacher do with all that hair come summer? But there was something about the man that affected her in a most peculiar way. Immediately she chastened her thoughts.

“You two look fine today,” she said.

“And . . . and you look pretty, Mama,” Zack said. “We came because I have to talk to you.” He dragged his tongue across his lips. “Can we take a walk?”

Her heart thumped like a dog’s tail. “I’d love to. This is an excellent time. Lydia Anne is helping Juanita tend to the chickens.” She turned to Brother Travis. “Are you going with us?”

“I’d like for him to come along if you don’t mind.” Zack’s gaze darted about, but his voice sounded calm—in control.

She shoved aside her trepidations and reached for her shawl on the hallway hook.

Zack twisted the button on his shirt. Suddenly Bonnie began to tremble. What if her son wanted to live with Brother Travis and never return home? Calm down, Bonnie. Let God handle this.

“Shall we walk the road toward the pasture?” she said. “The colts are growing like weeds.”

“No matter where,” Zack said. “I think I talk better when my feet are moving.”

Bonnie glanced at Brother Travis, and he smiled. Surely Zack had crossed a milestone. At least she prayed so. They ventured outside toward the pasture.

“We went to see Uncle Grant this morning because of something I heard him and Uncle Morgan say before Papa died.”

She clasped her hands in front of her, determined to let Zack speak his mind without interrupting. A crow called above them, and a rooster replied. Then they repeated.

“Wonder what they’re talking about,” Brother Travis said. “Maybe they think we look funny.”

An image of Brother Travis’s wild hair and spectacles crossed her mind, and she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. He must have realized her incredible nervousness. Thank you, dear man.

“Reckon I ought to speak my mind,” Zack said. “This isn’t easy, but I’ll do the best I can. Once when Uncle Morgan and Uncle Grant were at our house before Papa died, I heard Uncle Grant say that Papa needed to move to Arizona. That he might get better where the air was hot and dry. Many folks with lung ailments did. But when we stayed here, I thought you refused to move.”

“Oh, no, Zack. I tried—” She stopped herself. Already she’d broken her vow to listen.

“I know the truth, Mama. Uncle Grant explained it all to me.”

She had to speak. “Is this why you’ve been angry with me?”

He shrugged. “Mostly. I’m sorry for blaming you when Papa died.”

Bonnie blinked back the tears threatening to gush over her cheeks. “I’d have lived at the bottom of the ocean if it would have kept your father alive.”

Zack nodded. “I believe you.”

She wanted to say other things, but with Brother Travis listening to every word, she couldn’t make the words form on her lips. “We’ve had too many bad times between us, Zack. I’d like to try to be a family.”

“Not yet, Mama. I’m not ready. But maybe now we can talk without me gettin’ mad and bein’ spiteful.”

“Is there anything I can do or say to help you?”

“Maybe not for me, but for Michael Paul and Lydia Anne.”

“Anything, Zack. What would you like?”

Zack appeared to study a six-month-old filly that raced across the field on matchstick legs. He turned toward Brother Travis and then back to her. Deep inside, she sensed what he was about to say. He knows. Zack knows.

“Stop drinking the wine that Lester Hillman brings you.”

Bonnie struggled for her breath as though he’d thrown dirt into her face. The ugliest of secrets had been exposed to an innocent boy.

*****

Travis wished he could fade into nothing. The pain on Bonnie’s face. The anger in Zack’s eyes. How could he direct this conversation, or should he? An inner voice, the One he’d learned to trust, directed him to listen.

Bonnie sniffed, and Travis watched her fight a river of tears. “I tried to hide those days.”

“Maybe from Michael Paul and Lydia Anne but not from me—or Juanita.”

“I stopped a few days before you left. And I’m so sorry. I—I thought the wine would help me sleep better after your papa left. It took a long time before I realized numbing the pain didn’t lessen the grieving.”

“What about Mr. Hillman bringing you the bottles?”

She said nothing, but her flaming cheeks revealed the humiliation. Maybe she searched for a way out. “If you’re old enough to ask man questions, then I suppose you deserve an answer. Right after your papa died, the Hillmans came to check on us. I told them I was having trouble sleeping. Mr. Hillman said the apostle Paul had instructed Timothy to take a little wine for his health, and I should do the same. The next day, Mr. Hillman came by himself and brought me a bottle of wine.” She paused, no doubt to keep her emotions in control. “That was the first of many such gifts. Not long ago, I told Lester if he brought another bottle to this house, I’d tell his wife.”

“He’s not a good man, Mama.”

Zack carried too many burdens for such a young life. Maybe now his life could move forward. Travis prayed so.

“I see that now. At least about this matter. Back then, I was too wrapped up in grief.” Bonnie took a deep breath. “Thomas is keeping an eye on the house. Most women would never have told a boy your age this kind of thing, but you’re nearly a man, Zack, and you deserve to know the truth. I do ask that you spare Michael Paul.”

Zack’s face softened. “Thank you for treating me like a man. I’m going to try to act like one. No need to worry about me telling Michael Paul.”

“I’ve made many mistakes. Too many to recall, but I promise you I’m going to live my life so God and your papa can look down from heaven and be proud.”

Zack smiled. He stopped walking and turned to his mother. They stood eye to eye.

“I’m glad you look like your father. It’s like having him here with me.”

He reached over and gave her a hug. Not a firm one, but it was a beginning. Travis watched the sight, and she glanced up through her tears. Her smile eased his soul. What a dear lady. Her husband must have regretted leaving her, for he had a touch of heaven on earth. He reached into his pocket and handed her a handkerchief.

Zack released his mother. “I don’t know when or if I can ever come home. There’s meanness in my head that makes me want to fight and curse.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “I want to love you and Michael Paul and Lydia Anne right, but I don’t.”

Bonnie bit her lip, and Travis wanted to pull them both into his arms. Powerful hurt stretched across their faces.

“I’ll not give up until I have your love and respect back,” she finally said.

“Good,” Zack said. “I don’t want you to give up on me, either. Military school sounds awful to me, but I may need to get away.”

“From me, son?”

“No, Mama, from the blackness inside me.”

“I’ll pray night and day for you.”

This time when Zack hugged her, Travis could see the muscles across his shoulders relax. And Bonnie smiled. Once the two recovered, Zack took his mother’s hand as they walked back to the house.

“Brother Travis, I’d like to give you and Zack a gift.”

That was not at all what he expected to hear from Bonnie’s lips. “A gift? You’ve already given us all kinds of food, blankets, dishes. More things than I could count.”

How could one woman possess such loveliness?

“This is different. Zack needs his horse, and so do you.”

“I couldn’t accept such generosity, but Zack here is different.”

“Nonsense. My mind’s set, and once a woman has her mind clearly fixed on a matter, nothing can change it.”

Travis understood the truth in those words. More than he cared to think on. “I’d be greatly obliged for the gift of a horse, but it’s not necessary.”

She smiled. “Oh, yes, it is. Needed and necessary. I’ll have one of the hands tie them to the wagon for your trip back to town, and I’ll include bridles and saddles.”

“Mrs. Kahler—”

“Don’t refuse me, Brother Travis. You don’t want to deny me a blessing, do you?”

How could he refuse anything she requested?

*****

Years had passed since Bonnie’s heart had felt so carefree. A shroud of gloom had kept her encased too long, and now God’s blessing of peace had enveloped her. The autumn season, which she had begun in desperation, now turned into a newness of heart as though life had given her a gentle beginning.

Since she and Zack had talked twelve days ago about Ben’s death, they’d made good progress. She refused to dwell on the sadness existing between them, but instead focused on the future, a happy one.

Her son preferred living with Brother Travis, and for now she wouldn’t press him to come home. The sunshine of hope lived, and she breathed its sweet ardor. She sensed the return of the energy and enthusiasm she had known as a girl. The pages of the journal that Brother Travis had given her overflowed with remembrances of Ben and their years together. What good medicine the writing had become. The first night she received it, she had titled it The Book of Healing, and every entry was true to the title.

“Some days I think I could write a book,” she said to Mama while helping her prepare the flower beds at the parsonage for cooler weather. She’d told her a little about the conversation with Zack—enough for her mother to relax in the prospect of a brighter tomorrow. “Life’s mountains and valleys are forming me into a different woman.”

“Perhaps you should consider that very thing. As a child you told me many stories while we did chores or busied ourselves in the kitchen.”

“I remember how you encouraged me to write them down, but I was afraid Morgan or Grant would find them and tease me.” Bonnie noted the yellow lantanas still had plenty of blossoms along with the mums that normally bloomed until after Thanksgiving. She pulled up a thistle and tossed it into the weed bucket.

“What’s stopping you now?” Mama stretched her back.

“Time, I guess. With the children and the ranch, I find myself crawling into my bed shortly after I put the children in theirs.” Bonnie laughed. “Has it been so very long ago when I complained of sleepless nights?”

“Our prayers have been answered, Bonnie. We all worried if you’d ever come out of the grief.”

“I’m an Andrews. We’re survivors. Mama, I feel good. I have a purpose in raising my children and not having to depend on anyone. The ranch has done very well under Thomas’s care. In fact, I increased his pay, and we’re looking into raising quarter horses. I just posted a letter to a breeder in Kentucky. The Morning Star may become known as one of the top horse breeders in Texas.”

Mama’s eyes glistened. “Your father would be proud. Oh, how he loved fine horses.” She nodded and raised a finger. “But don’t discard writing some of those stories swirling around in your head. If you want to take on something new and God wills it, He’ll help you find the time.”

“I’ll ask Him what He thinks, but—”

“Mama, I need you.” Lydia Anne’s frantic voice snatched up Bonnie’s attention. The little girl had wandered several feet away from the women and their gardening. “Mama!” she screamed.

Bonnie held her breath. “What is it?”

“A snake, and it’s making a clicking noise.”

God, no! “Don’t move. I’m coming.” She snatched up the hoe and raced across the flower bed, nearly tripping over her skirt and trampling on anything in her path. Her vision blurred with only Lydia Anne in sight.

A rattler, nearly three feet long, arched its ugly head straight at Lydia Anne. Without another thought, Bonnie positioned herself between her daughter and the snake. She lifted the hoe and sank its blade across the rattler’s head, severing its venomous intent.

Grabbing Lydia Anne, she stepped back several feet and fell onto the grass. Her breathing came in short, quick gasps, while her heart nearly burst from her chest. Too frightened to speak or cry, she held Lydia Anne to her and rocked.

“Are you two all right?” Mama sounded as breathless as Bonnie felt.

Bonnie nodded. She didn’t think that much hate had ever swelled inside her.

“You’re holding me too tight.” Lydia Anne struggled to free herself. The little girl stared at the snake and covered her mouth. “Mama, you cut the snake’s head plumb off. Zack and Michael Paul will never believe this. Can we take it home?”

Take it home? Her precious little princess wanted to take home a headless rattler? “Whatever for?”

Lydia Anne tilted her blond head. “I could put it in my room so I wouldn’t forget the day my mama saved me.”

Bonnie laughed. Ben, did you hear your dainty little daughter? “I think it would look better hanging in the barn.”

Her mother plopped herself down on the grass beside them. “Would you look at the size of that? Daughter, I never thought you had it in you to . . . to . . .”

“Save my daughter from a rattler?” Bonnie released her squirming little girl. “As I said a moment ago, I’m an Andrews.”

Mama laughed. “You most certainly are. I think you’ve just written your first story.”

“And your granddaughter wants to keep this headless monster in her bedroom!”

Mama startled. “She has more of her uncle Morgan and her uncle Grant in her than I care to think about. Next she’ll take off bareback in the middle of the night to see what it feels like to be an Indian.”

Ah, maybe it’s something I should try with her.