Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana (33 page)

Isaac gazed into the distance. Once the train arrived, it would take an hour for the tanks on the steam engine to be refilled before the train could head to its next stop, Big Sandy. Isaac’s hands sweat and a blast of anxiety clutched his heart. He knew Julia planned on taking that Fourth of July train—away from Lonesome Prairie and on to New York. He only hoped Judge Booker would hear the trial, listen to the jury, and make his verdict within an hour.

Isaac sighed. He’d seen much shorter trials than that. Without fancy lawyers, the judges usually took the side of the vigilantes. Isaac hadn’t met the new Judge Booker though, so he could only speculate at the pace at which he ran his courtroom. Yet, if Isaac guessed correctly, the judge would want to get back on the train as well.

Jim and Mabelina sat holding hands on a bench next to the wall. Buck tilted his body against the doorjamb, his head tilted downward, his eyes skimming everything around him.

A rooster crowed, setting off two more, and Jim stomped his foot. “There must be more roosters in Lodge Pole than any other town in the West.” He shuffled nervously and thrust his hands in his pockets as another crowed. “Don’t they know it’s not mornin’? Hush it.”

Mabelina eyed her husband from a lowered head. Without a word, Jim received the rebuke. “I’m sorry, my little marmot. I jest want that train ta come and ta git this trial over with.”

Patting his back, Mabelina sighed. “Not me. I wish we coulda stayed in that cabin all our days.”

Isaac stepped across the wood-planked porch and searched the horizon for the train again. In the distance, he spotted a plume of smoke that didn’t look like a cloud. “I think it’s coming.”

He eyed Jim and Mabelina then searched down the wide street, seeking Warren. If the judge arrived and there was no one to accuse her, this whole trial could be over before the roosters hustled to their coop to escape the heat.

Just then a stout, blond man stalked out of the Lodge Pole Saloon, next door to the depot, with a couple of other cowboys moseying beside him.

Warren.
Isaac guessed he’d been in there all along, drinking to pass the time.

His best friend’s stepson stumbled and then steadied himself on a pole and gazed up. His eyes connected with Isaac’s. For a moment he scowled, but then his face became unreadable. “Howdy, Parson.”

Isaac edged his way into the street, past the crowd gathering to watch the trial. “What do you want, Warren?” Isaac called from where he stood.

Warren inched closer, still on the saloon’s porch, his two lackeys, Lefty and Joe, behind him. “I want to talk to you about the trial. I’ve been doing some thinking.”

Isaac took a few steps toward him. “What about? You gonna drop the charges?” Isaac doubted it. He knew now Warren was no decent citizen.

Warren sauntered back to the saloon and leaned against the railing, staying on the dirt road.

The train’s loudening rumble pulled Isaac’s gaze. The eyes of the townsfolk turned, too, and many hurried to the platform to watch the train, still a good mile down the track. The large metal dragon snorted steam as it slowed.

“Now! Grab him!” The words filtered into Isaac’s mind a moment too late.

Before Isaac could defend himself, he felt arms around him. Lefty and Joe yanked him around the back of the saloon and shoved him down onto the dusty ground. Isaac yelled, but Joe punched a handkerchief in his mouth with his grimy fist. Joe’s knuckle smashed Isaac’s gum against a tooth, causing a warm liquid to trickle down his chin.

With Warren towering over him, Isaac felt a piece of a rope being pulled around his mouth like a horse’s bit. Then rough hands girded it tight around his face, cinching it in the back of his head. The handkerchief tasted like dirt and sweat, and the rope dug into his cheek.

Lefty, Isaac’s old housemate from Old Scraggy Hill, approached, grabbing Isaac’s hands. He eyed Isaac, a glimpse of an apology on his face, and then Isaac felt his arms being jerked behind him. His shoulder sockets burned, and he struggled for air. Lefty’s knee dug into Isaac’s back as he pulled the rope tighter. Isaac sucked in deep breaths through his nose, wincing as he tried to ignore the pain that was everywhere at once.

A low moan escaped his lips as they bound his feet, pulling the rope tight. Then, just when Isaac thought they were through with him, Joe approached and pummelled the side of his head. Isaac’s ear smacked his shoulder and a hundred chimes sounded in his head.

He hunkered down in pain just as the point of Joe’s steel-toed boot slammed into his gut. Isaac attempted to lift his head, but the ground around him swayed. Then the ground faded to gray before finally filling with color once again.

Isaac lifted his eyes and glared at Warren.

“Throw the parson in the wagon,” Warren commanded.

Isaac felt Lefty’s and Joe’s arms wrap under his armpits. They hoisted him up into an old wagon that waited between the depot and the saloon. Joe covered him with a canvas tarp.

No! They can’t do this.

Isaac pulled against the ropes.
Mabelina
…
who’s gonna stand up for her?

“Sorry, Parson.” It was Warren’s voice through the fabric. “I just didn’t want to run the risk of a fool judge takin’ your word for that tramp. Believe me, the bounty’s worth more to me than that worthless piece of used-up garbage.”

Isaac squirmed and kicked his legs, trying to work his way out of the ropes. Fingering them, he tested the knots. It was no use. These men were used to tying up steers. There was no way he was going to loosen the ropes.

His mind raced. More than anything, Isaac yearned to set aside his Christian demeanor and give Warren what he deserved. Perhaps it was a good thing his mouth and hands were gagged.

He slumped down, unable to move. His shoulders trembled as he urged himself to puzzle out what to do.

Over the sound of the men leaving, Isaac heard the train’s brakes screech and the voices of what he guessed were passengers spilling out.

Since the wagon was parked next to the saloon—and the saloon was situated beside the depot where the trial would take place—Isaac shimmied his way to the side, pushed the canvas off by wiggling his head, and looked through the open window.
Lord, I have to get in there.

He struggled harder against the ropes as another thought shot to mind. The train. If he wanted to reach Julia in time, he had to be freed before the train left.

Isaac scooted to the other side of the wagon bed and watched a man in a black suit, Judge Booker, walk through the depot’s doors into the sunlight gleaming through the front-paned windows. Beside him marched a uniformed man who loomed over the short judge.

Giant Jim and Mabelina meandered through the door, their eyes searching the faces in the room. Isaac’s gut tightened. He was sure they were looking for him. He kept working the knot, hoping to somehow nudge it loose.
I’d be there if I could. Lord, they need Your help.

After erecting the judge’s ebony fold-up bench and setting his chair behind it, the bailiff motioned for the onlookers to sit down.

“You the accused?” The bailiff’s strong voice drifted through the open window to Isaac’s ears, and he saw him point at Mabelina.

She nodded, her face full of shame. As Isaac watched, the bailiff gripped her arm and walked her to a chair beside the judge’s bench.

The stallion’s hooves kicked up dust as Julia rode on the wagon seat next to Elizabeth and Shelby on her last trip from Lonesome Prairie to Big Sandy. She tried to swallow down the emotion she felt after saying good-bye to the rest of the family, including little Bea, for the last time.

She brushed the dust from the new dress the ladies had made together. The sun beat down on her, warming her face. She thought about opening her parasol to block the sun’s rays, but doing so seemed silly now. She actually enjoyed the heat on her cheeks, the wind caressing her skin, and the view of the expansive Montana sky.

Miriam sat in the back, trying to get comfortable in her almostto-term state, and ten-year-old Christopher moseyed alongside, stating he was strong and could keep up. Every so often he’d jog off to check on a trap, sometimes returning with a jackrabbit or gopher. Julia chuckled. When she first came here, the sight of those dead critters would’ve made shivers crawl over her skin. Now, in her mind’s eye, she flipped through Miriam’s recipe book, trying to consider the best way to cook them.

“Can you not hit
every
pothole, Elizabeth?” Miriam moaned from the back as the wagon jerked over a wide divot.

“I’m not trying to, dear.” Elizabeth yanked the horse to the left to avoid a bump in the rut. “Sorry!”

Julia felt her body tipping to the side, following the motion of the wagon, and then leveled herself. “You all right?” She twisted and eyed Miriam, whose face looked flushed from the Fourth of July heat. “Do you want to use my parasol to shield the sun?”

Miriam hugged her middle. “I’m fine. I need both hands just to steady myself.” She sucked in a breath. “In these last weeks, a body does feel every movement of the wagon.”

“Oh, dear.” Julia ached for her. “You didn’t have to come with us. We could’ve said good-bye at the house, you know.”

Miriam smiled up at Julia. “I wanted to see you off the right way.”

“I got a prairie dog this time!” Christopher ran and jumped onto the back of the wagon. He clambered to the front and leaned between Julia and Shelby. He shoved it in Shelby’s face and then in Julia’s. The dead creature smelled like Calamity when she was wet and sweaty, only worse.

“Oh!” Julia pushed his hand away. “Get that loathsome varmint out of my face.”

Shelby screeched and thrust him back, landing him on his rear next to his ma in the back.

Christopher laughed at the girl’s squeals. “What?” He mocked an innocent grin. “Ain’t foul to me. Just a little head and body. Nothin’ gets me squeamish.”

“Boy!” Miriam scolded. “Get out of this wagon with that thing.”

Christopher hopped out and hung the creature on a nail sticking out from the side of the wagon, next to two gophers.

“You’re so disgusting!” Shelby accused as she craned her head around and glared at Christopher.

Elizabeth palmed Shelby’s arm. “That’ll only make him want to do it more. Believe me, the best strategy is to ignore him.”

Shelby smiled at her mother. “Thanks. I’ll have to remember that.” Then Shelby put her arm around Julia’s waist and leaned her head against her shoulder. “I can’t believe this is really the last day.”

Julia tilted her head toward the girl. “We’ll write, you know. It’s not like I’ll forget about you and Bea. And you’ve got a wonderful home here. I need to make a life for myself, too, and Mrs. Gaffin’s expecting me.”

Shelby examined her hands, picking at her fingernails. “I know, and I promise not to throw a conniption fit like I did last time you tried to leave me.” She tipped her head up and grinned. “But don’t you think you could make a life here instead of so far away?”

Julia’s eyes moved from Shelby’s face to the snowcapped mountains far in the distance and then encircled the prairie. It was a desolate place out here, but it could be home, she knew that now. Part of her wanted to stay, but if home could be anywhere—and Julia believed it could with Christ—then she may as well go back to Manhattan and teach at a school. Maybe she’d even join the Children’s Aid Society as her father had. She smoothed Shelby’s hair. “I just think it’s best, for—everyone.”

“You mean for Uncle Ike.” Shelby straightened and sat forward. “If it weren’t for him, you’d stay.”

“Shelby.” Elizabeth’s voice held a hint of scolding.

Julia patted the girl’s arm. The mention of Isaac’s name didn’t bring the burning ache anymore. In fact, it brought a sense of gratitude for the privilege of knowing and befriending the man, even if just for a short time.

“Boy, it’s hot out today,” Christopher piped up as he bounded up on the board next to Shelby. “Scoot over, cousin Shel-
brain
, I’m gonna ride a spell.”

“Christopher Lafuze!” Miriam scolded from the back. “That is not how you talk to a girl, cousin or no.” She snapped her fingers. “Now get down. If you want to ride, you come back here with me and ask properly.”

Christopher grinned at Shelby then hopped back to the road and continued walking.

“Are all boys so annoying?” Shelby shook a fly from her arm. “They’re like buzzing insects.”

“Yes!” All three women spoke in unison.

“But you still like Uncle Ike.”

Julia gave a slight nod. “I do.” She peeked at Elizabeth, who sent over a sympathetic smile. “But that’s not why I’m leaving. I had hoped we could have a future together, but Shelby—” Julia closed her eyes and opened them. “My future is not with him or anyone else. It’s with God, so it doesn’t matter where I live.”

“Yes, it does.” Shelby shot a glance right back at Julia’s eyes. “Don’t you think I’ve learned a few things since we’ve been out here?” She tilted her chin up.

“Well, miss, tell me what you’ve learned.” Julia twisted her head, bestowing a sidelong look.

Shelby played with her pale green cotton skirt. “Johannah and I were watching a butterfly the other day at the coulee. It fluttered around until it found a daisy to rest on. Then it took off and landed on an old, dry weed. But somehow, with the butterfly on it, the weed looked prettier.” She curved her straight yellow blond hair behind her ear. “We decided that the butterfly was so beautiful that it didn’t matter where it landed. It could go anywhere it
wanted
, because the butterfly’s beauty comes with it wherever it goes.” Her blue eyes gazed at Julia, and she frowned impatiently. “Don’t you see? That means you can stay here.”