Measure of Grace (11 page)

William and Sylvia saw her coming—with Mark following—and moved aside enough to allow brother and sister to embrace.

“Jordan!” cried Lorene as she drew near, opening her arms. “Oh, Jordan! You’re alive! You’re alive!”

When Lorene’s arms encircled her brother, he held her tight.
Squeezing him for fear he might disappear, she kissed his cheek, tears flowing.

“Sorry I’m not dressed for the wedding, sis,” Jordan said, grinning at her, “but this is all I could come up with on short notice.”

Lorene got a grip on him as she stepped back a little and looked at his filthy, dirt-caked clothes. “You look like a prince to me!” she said, and kissed his cheek again.

There was a joyous reunion as family and friends rushed to Jordan, and after much hugging, kissing, and happy tears, Jordan told his story.

When he had brought everyone up to date, Marshal Woodard stepped close and said in a thin voice, “Jordan, I’m going to Ketcham’s marshal and take him with me to that cabin. I want you to draw me a map so we can find it easily.”

“Sure, Marshal,” said Jordan.

Running his gaze across the faces of the Shaws and their relatives, Woodard said, “I assure all of you that Ace Decker and Keith Nolan will be old men by the time they get out of prison.”

That evening, after Knight had delivered his article to Claude Hayward, he and Jordan took a walk together into the fields on the Bar-S to have a little time together.

As the stars twinkled in the black, velvety canopy overhead, Jordan shared the fears and dismay he had suffered at the hands of the kidnappers, saying how good it was to be free and alive. They stopped beside the small brook that wound its way through the ranch, and listened to its pleasant sound.

Laying a hand on Jordan’s shoulder, Knight said, “I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you alive.”

Jordan chuckled. “Thanks, ol’ pal.”

“But, Jordan …”

“Yes?”

“If that grizzly had come along and killed you while you were chopping wood, you would have died lost. Do you realize where you would be right now if that had happened?”

Jordan drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Knight, I’m
really not ready to think about salvation right now.”

“God has been good to spare your life in all of this,” said Knight. “You know I’ve talked to you about repenting and receiving Jesus into your heart many, many times.”

“Yes.”

“It’s because I care about you. But I can’t force you to get saved.”

Jordan smiled at him by the starlight. “Knight, you’re the best friend a guy could ever have. I know you care about me and where I’m going when I die, and I appreciate it. But I’m just not ready to make that move, yet.”

“Well, like I’ve told you many times before, death can come when you’re not ready.”

Jordan nodded. “I know. Thanks for caring. Like I said, you’re the best friend a guy could ever have.”

E
IGHT YEARS PASSED
.

On a cool, clear October day in 1872, twenty-year-old Tom Wymore entered the Richmond, Virginia, railroad terminal. He approached the large blackboard beneath a sign that said ARRIVALS and noted that the Boston train would arrive on schedule on track number five.

He was about to turn and head for the designated track when a familiar voice from behind said, “Hello, Tom!”

Pivoting, Tom smiled. “Well, Harry! I haven’t seen you since we graduated from high school. How are you?”

“Just fine,” said Harry Pointer, setting his heavy suitcase down and extending his hand. “And you?”

“Doing well,” said Tom as they shook hands. “I knew you had left Richmond, but I didn’t know where you went.”

“I’ve been working for my uncle in Knoxville, Tennessee. He’s in the construction business. He gave me a week off to come visit my parents. It’s a surprise. They don’t know I’m coming. I just got off the train. So what have you been doing?”

“Oh, just working. Duane Kitman at Richmond Hardware hired me full time as soon as I graduated.”

“I recall that you were working there part time when you were in school.”

“Right. I’m assistant manager, now.”

“Well, great! I assume you’re here to meet someone coming in on a train.”

“Yes. My cousin Kent Wymore. He’s a year older than me.
Lives in Boston. He could only come for two days, so we’re going to spend as much time together as possible. We haven’t seen each other for nearly four years.”

Harry nodded. “You married?”

“Ah … no. You?”

Harry grinned. “Not yet, but I’m dating a sweet little Tennessee gal with red hair and big blue eyes. Her name’s Ellie Trent. I really think Ellie and I will end up at the altar.”

“I hope it works out.”

“You have any prospects?”

“Well, not really. I’ve had my eye on a real nice girl. You may remember her—Diana Morrow. She was two years behind us in school.”

“Oh, sure! Beautiful brunette with big brown eyes.”

“That’s her.”

“You say you’ve had your eye on Diana. You mean it’s gone no farther than that? You haven’t dated her?”

“No. There are some complications.”

At that instant, the clanging bell of an arriving train rang out through the terminal.

Tom pulled out his pocket watch and flipped the lid open. “Harry, I’ve got to get over to track number five. Kent’s train is coming in. It sure has been good to see you.”

“Same here,” said Harry, shaking Tom’s hand again. “I sure hope things work out between you and Diana, in spite of those complications you mentioned.”

“Thanks,” said Tom. “Now you get on home and surprise your parents.”

With that, Tom turned and hurried toward the tracks.

The train was just chugging to a halt when he threaded his way through the crowd at track five. Soon passengers were moving out of all four coaches. Tom was positioned in front of the third car, and continually ran his gaze up and down, looking for his cousin.

Suddenly he spotted Kent descending from the rear platform of the first coach. Kent was off the steps and moving away from the train, overnight bag in hand, when he saw Tom. He smiled, waved, and headed for him.

Both young men were about the same size and build. When they drew up, Kent set his bag down, and they embraced, pounding each other on the back.

“Sure is good to see you, cuz!” said Kent.

“Same here, cuz!” said Tom. “This all your luggage?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll carry it for you. We’re walking to my house.”

Kent picked the bag up quickly. “Thanks, but I’ll carry it.”

Tom shrugged, grinned, and said, “Whatever makes you happy. Come on. Let’s go.”

As they stepped out of the terminal into the bright sunshine and headed for Main Street, Tom said, “I’m taking the next two days off so we can have as much time as possible together.”

“Good! That’s why I’m here!”

They reached Main Street and turned south toward the neighborhood where the Zack Wymore family lived. Moving down the boardwalk, they stopped frequently as they came upon friends of Tom’s, and he introduced them to his cousin.

After having stopped for the fifth time, they hurried across an intersection between traffic, and moved once again along the boardwalk. Suddenly Tom stopped, eyeing a farm wagon that was just pulling up in front of the general store across the street. At the reins was a big muscular farmer in his early forties. Beside him was his wife, and in the wagon bed were their five children.

Kent was three steps ahead of him before he realized that his cousin was no longer beside him. He turned around and saw Tom peering across the street. Looking that way for an instant, he turned and walked back to Tom. “I assume you’re looking at that wagon load of farmers.”

“Yes,” said Tom, without taking his eyes off them.

“You must know them.”

Tom nodded, his eyes still fixed on them. “That beautiful eighteen-year-old girl in the back with the other young ones is Diana Morrow. I’ve had a crush on her since we were in school together. The family has a farm nine miles west of town.”

Kent focused on the girl, admiring her long brunette hair as it adorned her magnificently sculptured features, then cascaded down
in waves to her shoulders and down her back. Her dark brown eyes were soft pools, rimmed with sooty black lashes.

“She is quite good looking,” said Kent. “Have you dated her?”

“No. But not by choice.”

“She doesn’t like you?”

“It’s not that. It’s her father. Take a look at the size of him.”

“Yeah,” said Kent. “He’s a whopper.”

“Stuart Morrow is a rough, bullheaded man, as well as a whopper. He won’t let Diana date anyone. There are plenty of other young men in town and the surrounding area who would love to date her, but her father’s mean temperament keeps them from trying. I’ve let the same fear keep me from trying, too. But … well, I’ve just about worked up the nerve to approach the man and ask him if I could take Diana on a date.”

Kent smiled. “Well, she is a lovely girl. I hope you are successful whenever you get the rest of your nerve up.”

Tom sighed, keeping his eyes on Diana. “Me too.”

At the Morrow wagon, big Stu touched ground as his wife, Martha, began to climb down by herself, struggling with her long skirt.

Seventeen-year-old Derick hopped out of the wagon bed and offered his hand to his mother. While he was helping her down, ten-year-old Daniel moved to the tailgate, opened it, and hopped down. He offered his hand to Diana, and when she was out of the wagon, he helped thirteen-year-old Deborah down, then took his little five-year-old brother, Dennis, in his arms and placed him on the board sidewalk.

Dennis coughed, covering his mouth.

Diana’s massive father stepped up to her and placed money in her hand. “Diana, go down to the pharmacy and pick up the cough syrup for Dennis. And hurry back. No dillydallying. Understand?”

“Yes, Papa,” said Diana. She turned and headed down the boardwalk toward the pharmacy.

Across the street, Tom Wymore watched Diana while the rest
of her family filed into the general store. “Come on, Kent. I want to introduce you to Diana.”

Kent hurried to keep up with his cousin as they angled across the street so as to intercept Diana before she got to wherever she was going. When Diana saw Tom coming toward her, she stopped and looked over her shoulder to make sure her father was out of sight.

Relieved that he was, she looked at Tom and a bright smile lit up her face. “Hello, Tom.”

“Hello, yourself,” he said, stepping up on the wooden sidewalk. “It’s nice to see you. Diana, I want you to meet my cousin Kent Wymore. Kent, this is Diana Morrow. I’ve known her since I was in fourth grade and she was in second grade.”

Being this close to the girl, Kent was struck anew at just how lovely she was. When she smiled timidly, saying she was glad to meet him, and offered her hand, Kent took notice of the two perfect rows of white, even teeth sparkling within her creamy complexion.

The smile was indeed pretty, but Kent saw that it did not reach her eyes. There was deep sadness hidden in their depths.

Kent also noticed that though Diana’s clothes were neat and clean, they had a threadbare quality about them and her high-top shoes were scuffed and worn.

He stepped back after shaking her small, rough hand, and Tom moved up to take the place Kent had just occupied. “Guess we haven’t talked for a month or so, Diana. That’s too long. I’d really like to talk to you every day if I could.”

“Really?” she said, glancing nervously over her shoulder, then turning back to him.

“Yes, really. I—Well, I—”

Tilting her head and blinking, she said, “What, Tom?”

Wymore swallowed with difficulty, cleared his throat, and swallowed again. “Diana, I—I’ve never told you, but I think it’s time I do.”

Her brow furrowed. “Tell me what, Tom?”

“Well, I—” He choked, then cleared his throat again. “Diana, I’ve liked you in a special way for a long time. I would really like to date you.”

Diana’s face stiffened, then softened quickly. “Tom … I would love to go on a date with you, but my father would never allow it.” She took another look behind her, and sighed with relief when there was no sign of her father.

“I know your father is a hard man to deal with,” said Tom, “but I have worked up the nerve to ask him … that is, if you will go on a date with me.”

“Of course I would, Tom, but you don’t understand just how hard my father is to deal with on this matter. It would really be a dangerous thing to—”

Tom’s attention was drawn down the street past Diana, and she saw him flinch. She noticed Kent tense up.

Diana turned around and saw that her father had come out of the general store with a large sack of potatoes on his shoulder. He was standing there staring at her.

Tom knew it would only be a moment before Stu Morrow was on them.

Suddenly, the big man dumped the sack in the wagon and stomped up the boardwalk toward them, his face beet red.

Kent said hastily, “Tom, he looks real mad.”

“Tom,” Diana said, her voice quivering, “take Kent and go. Quick!”

Thinking there was no time like the present, Tom squared his shoulders and said, “Diana, it’s time I talk to your father about dating you.”