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Authors: Al Lacy

BOOK: Measure of Grace
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“I need to know about Mark and Lorene. Are they still getting married on the eighteenth or has the tragedy of Jordan’s death caused them to postpone it?”

“They’re going ahead with the wedding next Saturday, sir,” said Knight. “Mark suggested that they put it off for a few weeks to give time for mourning Jordan’s death, but Lorene and her parents felt that Jordan wouldn’t want them to postpone it. So, as scheduled, the wedding will take place at three o’clock next Saturday afternoon at the church in Ketcham.”

“Good. I want you to write a three-hundred-word article on the wedding and get it in my hands by six o’clock next Saturday if you can, and I’ll print it on the front page of Sunday’s issue. You can have it pretty well done before the wedding, then just add whatever you want when it’s over. Can you do that?”

A wide smile spread over Knight’s young face. “Oh yes, sir! I can do it! Thank you for the opportunity!”

“You’re welcome, my boy,” said Hayward, rubbing his silver mustache.

“I’m going to be giving you more writing assignments very soon. Enough practice. I want you doing the real thing each time from now on.”

“I really appreciate that, sir,” said Knight. “Now, what’s my first job today?”

“The press needs cleaning. You can start there.”

“All right,” said the sixteen-year-old, “one clean printing press coming up!”

At the Bar-S on the next Saturday, there were mixed emotions in the big ranch house. Lorene and her parents carried the grief over Jordan’s death, yet there was happiness because of the new life Lorene would begin as Mrs. Mark Hedren that day.

The Shaws, along with Annie and Knight Colburn, left the ranch for Ketcham just before one o’clock. Knight was astride his horse so he could ride back to Elkton immediately after the wedding reception was in progress, and place the final draft of the wedding article into Claude Hayward’s hands. The others were in the Shaw carriage.

Lorene sat between Sylvia and Annie in the rear seat, each holding a hand as they tried to keep her mind on the wedding. When they arrived at the church, the women took Lorene to the room where she would put on her wedding dress. Bessie Hedren—Mark’s mother—was there to offer her help. The two bridesmaids, who were close friends of Lorene’s, were already there.

William went into the auditorium, where he met family members from the Midwest and the East who had been staying at the Ketcham Hotel, along with local friends. When he spotted Marshal and Mrs. Mike Woodard, he thanked the marshal once again for the effort he had put forth to try to find Jordan’s body.

Knight went to the pastor’s office, where he joined Mark, best man Lucas McSween, the other groomsman Bart Collins, and the pastor.

As Sylvia worked with Annie and Bessie to help Lorene get ready, she thought about Jordan, and with his death overshadowing the family, she was glad they had decided on a small, quiet wedding
with only relatives and close friends.

Lorene, a pretty girl in her own right, glowed in the love Mark had for her as the finishing touches were put on her hair by her mother. The bride wore a lovely pale pink and white lace dress.

Sylvia, her heart aching over Jordan, painted a happy smile on her face and engaged her daughter in cheerful chatter. She fastened the last tiny button at the neck of the bodice and placed a filmy concoction of tulle attached to a white straw hat atop Lorene’s shiny curls. She pinned it into place and stepped back to admire her.

Bessie, Annie, and the bridesmaids looked on as a mist of tears dimmed Sylvia’s eyes. Taking Lorene’s hands, Sylvia said, “You are so beautiful, sweet girl. Let this be the happiest day of your life.”

Lorene’s mind went to Jordan, but she pressed a smile on her lips and said, “I will, Mother. I will.”

At the cabin in the foothills, Jordan Shaw was alone. Ace Decker and Keith Nolan had gone hunting in the mountains for the day. He was still chained to the post, leaning his back against the wall. As usual, the window shade was down and the cabin doors were securely locked.

Jordan’s mind was on the wedding in Ketcham. It was almost noon, and he knew that in three more hours, his beloved sister would walk down the aisle to become Mark Hedren’s wife. He wept as he thought of Lorene and his parents, knowing how hard it was going to be for them to get through the wedding, thinking he was dead.

He wondered who Mark had chosen to replace him as a groomsman and thought it was probably Bart Collins. Mark and Bart had been close friends for many years. Their friendship was second only to the friendship between Mark and Lucas McSween.

Noon came. Jordan looked at the food his captors had left him, but he had no appetite. A bit thirsty, he poured water from the pitcher into a cup and sipped it.

Time dragged by.

It was just after two o’clock when Jordan was picturing what he
thought each person in the small wedding party was doing at that moment. Lorene was about to begin putting on her wedding dress with help from their mother, Bessie Hedren, and Annie Colburn. Mark, Knight, Lucas, and whomever Mark had chosen for his other groomsman were probably in the pastor’s office.

Suddenly Jordan heard a horse whinny at the front side of the cabin, followed by another horse doing the same. His first thought was that his captors had returned home early, but this changed when he heard wheels grinding on the road, then a mixture of male voices. He could tell that the grinding wheels came to a halt, and he could hear footsteps on the ground.

He couldn’t make out what the men were saying, but they apparently were having some kind of problem by the voices.

Jordan looked at the drawn window shade, and wished he could see out. The chain, however, was too short. His captors had made sure he couldn’t reach the window.

I’ve got to get their attention!
he thought, as he scrambled to his feet.
What can I—Wait a minute! Yes!

Bending over, he picked up the nearly full water pitcher and hurled it at the window as hard as he could. It sailed through the air, hit the window shade solidly, and shattered the window with a loud crash. The pitcher also shattered, spilling water on the shade and the floor.

“Hey!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Help! Help me! Help me!”

Outside on the road, directly in front of the cabin some twenty yards away, four lumberjacks were carrying a load of logs on a large wagon, which they had cut down in the Sawtooth Mountains. They were headed for Fletcher’s Sawmill near Ketcham, and had stopped because one of the ropes that secured the logs on the wagon had broken. They were attempting to adjust logs that had shifted and secure them with another rope.

All four stopped what they were doing when they heard the glass shatter and the voice call for help.

Jordan could hear them coming toward the cabin, talking among themselves about what kind of trouble the person inside the cabin might be having. “I’m here!” he called. “Front bedroom!”

Heavy footsteps sounded on the porch, then calloused hands reached through the broken window, pulled the shade aside, and four faces appeared. Jordan recognized them. “Hey, guys!” he shouted, relief evident in his voice. “It’s me!”

All four of them stood aghast, eyes bulging.

“Jordan!” gasped Judd Cameron. “You’re alive! We heard you were killed and eaten by a grizzly!”

Nick Ferigo pointed at the chain on Jordan’s ankle. “Look! He’s chained to that post!”

“We’re coming in!” said George Bernay.

“Doors are locked.” said Jordan. “You’ll have to break one open.”

“No problem,” said Brandon Torveen. “I’ll get an ax.”

“You’ll need a couple of wrenches or pliers to get the chain off me,” said Jordan.

“We’ve got some,” said Judd Cameron.

Less than a minute later, the front door was ripped to shreds with an ax, and within a minute after that, the chain was off Jordan’s ankle.

“Now tell us about it,” said Nick Ferigo. “Who did this to you?”

Quickly, Jordan told them about Ace Decker and Keith Nolan being fired by his father and of his kidnapping as a matter of revenge. He explained that they now worked at Fletcher’s Sawmill, but were planning to depart from Idaho and leave him tied up in a cave in the mountains, where he could eventually work his way free.

Judd Cameron told Jordan they were taking their logs to that very mill. Jordan asked them not to say anything to them about having set him free. He would let the marshal deal with them. He then told them Lorene’s wedding was about to take place, saying he wanted to get there before it was over.

Brandon Torveen said, “I’ve got my saddle horse tied on behind the wagon, Jordan. You can take him and return him to my house in Ketcham this evening.”

“Oh, thanks, Brandon,” said Jordan. “You’re a lifesaver!”

At the church in Ketcham, Mark and Lorene left the platform after being pronounced husband and wife and headed quickly for the fellowship hall. The wedding party, family members, and wedding guests followed.

Though there was happiness in the hearts of the bride and groom and their families, there was a note of sadness because Jordan was not with them.

Knight Colburn felt the sadness as he watched Mark and Lorene start cutting the wedding cake. When the cake had been distributed and the wedding guests were passing by the bride and groom to congratulate them, Knight slipped up to them and said that he had to hurry and get to Elkton in time to give Claude Hayward his finished article.

Mark and Lorene thanked him for being a part of the wedding, then encouraged him to hurry. They definitely wanted the article on the front page of Sunday’s paper.

Knight headed for the side door of the fellowship hall, waved to his mother and the Shaws, and hurried outside.

He was about to mount his horse when he saw a rider come galloping into the church lot at full speed. When he focused on the rider’s face, his blood froze and his eyes bulged.

Skidding to a halt and sliding from the saddle, Jordan set steady eyes on an obviously stunned Knight Colburn. “I’m not a ghost, Knight. It’s really me. In the flesh.”

Tears gushed from Knight’s eyes and he wrapped his arms around his best friend. Knight struggled to gain control of his emotions, then asked what had happened. Jordan gave him a quick but sufficient explanation.

Knight explained that the reception was in progress, then said, “Let’s get you in there. Your family is going to be so happy to see that you’re alive!”

Jordan was fighting his own emotions. “Shall I just walk in, unannounced?”

“Let me go in ahead of you and sort of prepare them.”

Inside the fellowship hall, the bride and groom were still being congratulated while the wedding guests were enjoying cake and punch.

When Knight stepped in, the first to notice him was his mother. Annie hurried to him, noting that he had not closed the door tightly. “Son, is something wrong? I thought you were on your way to the
Sentinel office.

“I was, Mom,” he said, struggling to keep his voice level, “but … well, I have a surprise for everyone.”

Annie’s brow puckered. “A surprise? What?”

“Not what, Mom. Who.”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he said, motioning toward William and Sylvia, who were looking at him.

They hurried to him, and as they drew up, William said, “What is it, Knight?”

“I have a wonderful surprise for you,” said Knight, “and I want the two of you real close to this door. We’ll let the bride and groom watch from where they stand by the table.”

Sylvia looked perplexed. “Knight, what’s going on?”

Smiling, he said, “I’ll show you,” and turned enough to shove the door open.

When Jordan stepped through the door, Sylvia gasped, throwing her hands to her mouth. “Jordan! Jordan! Oh, it’s you! You’re alive!”

Every eye in the room was drawn to the scene as William and Sylvia embraced their son, weeping for joy.

At the table, Lorene gripped Mark’s arm and stared in shock, hardly daring to believe what her eyes and mind were telling her was true. Letting go of Mark’s arm, she gasped her brother’s name and slightly tripped on her long dress as she stumbled toward him.

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