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Authors: Laura Abbot

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Toward the end of her stay, Rose and Lily lingered on the porch one evening to enjoy the full moon while Caleb and Mattie went on to bed. The prairie was aglow with moonlight, and myriad stars blanketed the heavens. The creak of their rockers and the baying of far-off coyotes provided accompaniment to the silence between them. In that moment, Rose felt especially blessed to have such a sister. No words were necessary. Lily’s acts of kindness and common sense were proof enough of her love. How strange, Rose reflected, that Lily’s ambition to live in a cosmopolitan city had, instead, brought her here—brought her to a love worth the sacrifice.

“You can have other children, you know,” Lily whispered into the dark.

Rose startled. She had long ago given up that hope. “No, I can’t.”

Lily turned toward her, her face highlighted in the moonglow. “I know there will never be another Alf, but, dear, you may very well marry and bear children.”

“I know you’re trying to help,” Rose said, “but that will never happen.”

Lily continued to study her, to the point Rose finally had to look down. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

Her throat filling with bile, she shut her eyes against painful memories.

“Rose?” Lily moved her chair closer. “Please. I hope we can confide anything to one another.”

As she brushed away the traitorous tears streaking her cheeks, Rose looked at her sister. “Before Papa and I left Fort Larned, I’d decided marriage was not for me.”

“Why ever not? You would make some man a delightful helpmate.”

Rose strangled on bitterness. “Men are not to be trusted.”

“Who could you possibly mean? Papa? Caleb?” Then as if clouds had suddenly obliterated the moon, Lily’s mouth fell open and she gripped her sister’s hand. “What man, Rose? Tell me. It must’ve been after I went to St. Louis.”

As if a raging flood had surged against an earthen dam and breached it, Rose could no longer withhold the brutal details of her sergeant’s betrayal. “I thought he loved me, Lily, truly I did. He made me feel...oh, dear...lovely. Desirable.” Then she laughed scoffingly. “Me? Rose Kellogg, desirable? What a ninny I was to believe one word that came out of that man’s mouth! How pathetic to be so giddy and vulnerable.”

Lily, apparently sensing her sister’s need to purge herself of the venom of betrayal, let her ramble on.

“It is one thing to enter upon a private dalliance, but some at Fort Larned, though not Papa, knew the sergeant was courting me. And how many of them, do you suppose, also knew he was married? What a joke on me, they must’ve thought. More fool I.”

“He was very wrong to so mislead you, Rose. However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t have feelings for you or was being untruthful about your charms. You are an appealing woman, especially, I imagine, to someone who is lonely and far from home.”

“Don’t excuse him. That only makes me feel all the more naive.” Rose stewed with the effort to get her sister to understand. “For once, I truly thought a man would cherish me. That I, homely Rose Kellogg, could have a home of my own and children. Well, you can forget about that.”

“That cad hurt you to the core.” Lily’s eyes now shone with tears. “He’s lucky I can’t get hold of him. But, Rose, you mustn’t tar all men with the same brush.”

“Intellectually, I understand that and have evidence of that in Papa, Caleb and others.”

“Seth?”

Rose groaned inwardly. Her sister would have to bring him up. “Seth and I are friends. That is all we will ever be to one another. Evidence suggests that he is a fine man. But hear me now. I will never again put myself in the position of making a fool of myself for a man nor allow a man to have power over me or inflict hurt upon me. Not if I can prevent it.”

“Oh, Rose,” Lily said. “I am sorry for your pain and puzzled as to how to help you understand that one man’s perfidy is no cause to reject another.”

Rose relented. “I know you mean well, Lily. I’ve held in this episode with the sergeant for so long that while it is a relief to talk about it, I am sorry it has caused you distress. More than anything, I hope it will help you see why I am resigned to living as a spinster and why Alf’s loss has so injured me.”

“That’s enough,” Lily said, her voice charged with purpose. “We will not speak of this again, nor will I permit you to indulge your poor opinion of yourself. I heard you, now you hear me. You are a lovely, talented, caring woman who deserves all that God has in store. Trust me, His eye is every bit as much on you as on the sparrow. Good things are in your future, Rose, so pay attention and don’t let the past blind you to what awaits. There,” she said, rising to her feet, “that’s enough for one evening. Pray take your rest and consider the one thing I know for certain. God is not finished with Rose Kellogg.”

* * *

Seth and his father sat at the kitchen table devouring the pork chops, biscuits and gravy Sophie had prepared. “Sit down, Sophie,” Andrew said. “I reckon you’ve piled us up enough food to stave off starvation.”

Sophie eased into her chair and helped herself to a dainty serving. “I surely wouldn’t want you menfolk to be deprived of nourishment this close to the roundup.” With so innocent a look that Seth was immediately put on the defensive, she added. “I guess I’ll soon have to start bulking up a bit more myself.”

Andrew eyed her as he ladled a spoonful toward his mouth. “And why might that be?”

“So I can keep up with you.”

Seth sputtered. “Keep up with us? Tell me you’re not saying what I think you are.”

Smiling, Sophie wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Brother dear, if you conclude I’m riding with you on the roundup, well, then, go to the head of the class.”

Seth turned to his father. “Pa, do you know about this?”

“Well, we are short a man,” he admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Have you looked lately? Sophie is no man.” The mere thought of his sister riding the range with a bunch of ill-mannered rubes sent his temperature soaring.

“No, son, she isn’t. But she’s a darned good hand and she can ride better than most of our cowpokes.”

“Who’ll protect her?”

Sophie shoved back her plate. “Who needs protecting? I can outride and outshoot any of those fellas.”

“You can outtalk them, too,” Seth muttered, glaring at his father. “Now I’ll have to keep one eye on you and one eye on the steers.”

“Since when did you get so all-fired protective of me? Seems like I did everything you boys did when we were growing up.”

“But...” Seth sought the words he needed “...you’re a lady now. You’re even being courted. Maybe it’s time to grow up. Do womanly things.”

Sophie’s laughter eased the tension. “Seth, you are a dear to concern yourself, but I can be both—a tomboy and a flirt.”

Seth once again appealed to his father. “Pa?”

Andrew shrugged. “Son, when have we ever bested this one in a debate? Not likely to start now. She’ll come with us.”

Defeated, Seth slumped in his chair, moving his spoon through the gravy on his plate. Sophie was, indeed, one of a kind, yet he’d no more let Rose go on a roundup than fly. Shoot. Where had that thought come from? The woman had taken up residence in his brain and wouldn’t budge. Friends, that’s all they were. Rose had made that quite clear. He had no claim on her, so persisting with anything further would lead only to awkwardness and hurt.

Sophie leaned over and caressed his forearm. “See? It’s all settled. I appreciate your concern, Seth, but it’s time you understood that I’m my own woman now. You no longer have to take care of me.”

As if. He would always take care of her, however she needed him to. “We’ll see, sister, we’ll see.”

Later that night after they’d all gone to bed, Seth tossed restlessly, thinking about the way life changes. Sophie, once a little firecracker of a girl, was now a woman in love. Alf, who’d been given a loving home, was lost in the wilds of Kansas. It was as if there wasn’t a thing a man could count on. He knew what Caleb and Lily would say to that. He could count on God, they would remind him. Reflecting on his recent talk with Caleb, it was obvious how God had played a role in his and Lily’s lives. It wasn’t so obvious with others. Were some just lucky? Favored by the deity? Or in ways still lost to him, were all people under God’s care and direction?

Sometime after ten, he fell into a deep sleep only to be aroused by a clatter from the henhouse, followed by the howling of the ranch dogs. Jumping out of bed, he ran barefooted to the front porch. It was then he made out a figure on horseback approaching the ranch.

“Hush,” he said, motioning the dogs to be still. In a moment he was joined by his father, also having been rousted by the racket.

“Who’s that?”

“Can’t tell yet,” Seth answered, straining his eyes to identify the rider.

“Can’t be good news, coming like this in the middle of the night.”

Then they were joined by Sophie, her shoulders covered by a shawl. “Mercy, what’s happening?”

“Seth, I believe it’s the sheriff,” Andrew said.

Seth sighed. “Hope that doesn’t mean rustlers.”

“Or worse,” Sophie whispered, shivering against Seth.

They waited for what seemed an interminable time for Jensen to cover the ground separating them. Finally the man rode up to the porch, dismounted and tied his mount to the post. Eyeing the threesome clad in nightclothes, the sheriff apologized for disturbing them before saying, “I have some news about the boy the Kelloggs took in.”

Seth held his breath, his chest expanding with both dread and hope.

“I’ve already talked with Doc and I’m on the way to your brother’s place to visit Rose, but since you’re on the way, I thought I’d stop here and tell you what I know.”

“We thank you, Sheriff,” Andrew said. “Go ahead.”

Sophie slipped her hand into Seth’s, as if to steady him, as Jensen began to speak. “Up Council Grove way, there’s been an unfortunate circumstance. Indian woman who worked at the saloon was killed last night. Murdered, it appears, by her drunken white husband, a fella who, it turns out, is an army deserter, wanted all over the territory. Perhaps the same man we heard about earlier, up Fort Riley way.”

Seth strained with impatience.
Get on with it. What does this have to do with Alf?

“Seems the woman was living in a lean-to behind the saloon with her son. Little half-breed boy about three or four years old.”

“Alf?” Seth’s knees nearly buckled.

“Don’t know yet, Montgomery, but it could be. The authorities in Morris County have incarcerated the alleged killer, and the sheriff’s wife there has taken the youngster in, pending identification by someone from here. Sorry to bother you, but I thought you’d want to know.”

Rose. Dear God, let it be Alf.
Seth felt as if his chest would explode any minute.

“Indeed, we do—” Andrew started his reply, but Seth was long gone into the house throwing on his clothes and boots and gathering up his hat. He ran back onto the porch. “I’m going with you, Sheriff,” he said as he raced past the group on his way to saddle Patches. All he knew was that he had to get to Rose. Now.

Chapter Twelve

D
espite the sweltering heat, Rose and Lily had had a busy day, canning the last of the season’s tomatoes and baking the stollen Ezra favored. In the upstairs bedroom she shared with Mattie, Rose packed her valise in preparation for her morning return to Cottonwood Falls. She took down her hair and slipped into a lightweight nightgown, grateful for the cooler September nights. Before she climbed into bed, she stood observing Mattie, one little fist tucked under her chin, her long eyelashes closed in slumber. Rose wrapped her arms around her waist to hold in an involuntary sob. How often she had stood just so over Alf’s trundle bed, glorying in the sight of her dear boy? Although this time with Lily’s family had been therapeutic, it had not for one moment assuaged her sense of loss. Life would go on. Somehow it always did. But nothing would ever be the same.

Lying on her back in bed, unable to sleep, Rose fixed her gaze on the moon, wondering if somewhere that same moon shone down on Alf. Although she’d turned her back on the church, there was still one prayer she uttered every night before sleep took over. Tonight was no exception.
Dear God, wherever Alf is and whomever he is with, bestow on him the gift of love. May he always know that a woman in Cottonwood Falls loves him very much.

Finally, caressed by the night breezes and spent from the day’s labors, she succumbed to sleep. Dreams flitted in and out of her awareness. In one, a happy boy trotted around the lawn on a stick horse while a big man and a smaller woman looked on with pride and joy. In another, though, a woman with unkempt long hair and talonlike nails grabbed a child from her arms, cackling with triumph. As if grappling with a restless spirit, Rose woke up, her heart pounding with the knowledge she was powerless. Gradually, she adjusted her eyes to the darkness. Everything was normal. Mattie was still sound asleep, the house was quiet and the gentle breeze brought comfort. Rose felt consumed by restlessness.

Gathering a light robe around her, she tiptoed down the stairs, eased open the front door and curled up in one of the rockers. The night was luminescent and laden with the fragrances of growing things. Ordinarily she would have had every reason to be at peace in these surroundings. Peace...the illusive balm that never came. She sat there a long time, caught up in the night sounds and her own wayward thoughts. The Creator who made this beautiful world would surely never turn His back on a child He had also created.

A shift in wind direction brought with it a new sound, inconsistent with the night’s tranquility. A rhythmic clopping noise, far away and yet drawing closer with each breath she took. Horses. Voices. She rose to her feet, aware that night riders were either outlaws or harbingers of ill tidings. Papa? Had some accident befallen him? Behind her she heard the clatter of footsteps, and Caleb burst onto the porch, a rifle clutched in his hands, trailed by Lily, tying the sash of her wrapper. “Shh,” Caleb whispered. “Get inside and lock yourselves in.”

Lily grabbed her arm, drew her inside and latched the door. The two women huddled together, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. Caleb remained silent as the hoofbeats grew louder and louder. After what seemed an eternity, Caleb rapped on the door and said, “Come on out. It’s Seth and Sheriff Jensen.” Simultaneously the women expelled the sighs they’d been holding in. They crept back onto the porch, knowing that the two men, though familiar, could still be the bearers of unpleasant news.

Seth waved his hat before he dismounted, and after hitching their mounts to fence posts, the two walked rapidly toward the house. “The sheriff has possible news of Alf,” Seth shouted.

Rose sagged against her sister, unable to read Seth’s expression. Could this be the good news they’d been praying for or something sinister? Caleb ushered the group into the house. The men remained standing, but Lily and Rose sank onto the love seat. Rose dared a peek at Seth, willing him to give her a shred of hope. He nodded briefly, but his expression conveyed nothing. Nearly overcome with anxiety, she clenched her fists and waited for the sheriff to speak.

After what seemed an eternity, he looked straight at her and said quietly, “We have reason to believe we have found your Alf.”

A hundred rampaging questions flooded her mind:
Was he alive? Was he safe? Who had taken him? Could he be returned to her?

“Currently he is being well cared for by the sheriff’s wife up in Council Grove. That’s the good news. However, he has witnessed a heinous crime.”

Taut with anticipation, Rose listened with the others while the sheriff told of the strangulation death of the Indian woman who claimed to be Alf’s mother at the hands of an army deserter who admitted to fathering the boy. Faint with relief and concern for Alf, Rose saw spots swimming before her eyes and lowered her head to her knees. Quickly, Lily knelt beside her. “Take a deep breath, Rose.” Caleb got her a glass of water. “Drink,” Lily murmured.

Finally regaining her senses, Rose sat up, limp with emotion. Then in that deep voice she recognized so well, Seth said, “I believe this is good news, Rose. When you are able, I propose we go to Council Grove to make a positive identification.”

Unbidden, a rush of fear clouded Rose’s thinking. “I’m afraid to hope.” She rose to her feet and faced the sheriff. “How can we know this is our Alf and not some other boy?”

“You are right, Miss Kellogg, to exercise caution, lest your hopes be dashed. We cannot know with certainty until we see the boy. That is why I hope you can make the trip.”

“I would cross any ocean to be with Alf.”

“As would I,” Seth added.

The sheriff clapped his hat back on his head. “Well, that’s settled. I propose we leave as early in the morning as you two can get to my office. It will be best to travel in the cool of the day.”

Seth moved to Rose and took her hands in his. “I will bring the buggy shortly after dawn.”

Rose looked up into Seth’s warm hazel eyes, reading there his love for the boy. “I will be ready.”

The sheriff started toward the door, then turned back to face them. “Oh, one other thing. Do you know anything about a large agate? The Morris County sheriff says the boy has the marble with him constantly.”

Rose fell against Seth’s broad chest, laughing and crying all at the same time. “Lavinia’s agate! Oh, Seth, it has to be Alf, doesn’t it?”

Lily approached the two. “It’s a very good sign, Rose. Thanks be to God.” Then, easing Rose from Seth’s protective embrace, Lily led her from the room. “You must rest. The journey tomorrow demands it.”

Rose allowed herself to be escorted upstairs and tucked into bed by her sister. Before Lily leaned over to kiss her forehead, Rose heard her whisper. “You see, all things in God’s good time.”

Long after Lily had left the room, Rose lay smiling, marveling that so much could change in one day’s time. Then a more unsettling thought surfaced. In that moment of happy revelation it was to Seth she had turned, not Lily. And it was there she had, at last, found strength.

* * *

The next morning, holding the reins loosely in his hands, Seth watched the twenty-two miles of countryside to Council Grove roll by at what seemed a snail’s pace. Sheriff Jensen, mounted, led the way and the buggy horse followed docilely along. Beside Seth, Rose sat, her fingers intertwined, staring resolutely ahead. Neither of them had gotten much sleep, but so electrified by possibility were they, that dozing to the lulling rhythm of the buggy ride was unthinkable.

“What if it’s not Lavinia’s agate?”

Seth stewed. Rose had just asked the question plaguing him as well. Any number of other explanations occurred to him. Agates were not uncommon, so any boy might have one similar to Alf’s. Or have found the marble at some random place. Yet there remained the fact of the dual parentage the sheriff had described. Shuddering at the thought of the crime that had been committed, Seth laid a hand over Rose’s balled fists to reassure her. “Time will tell. For now, let’s keep the faith.”

“I’m trying.” They rode for several minutes, and then Rose moved one cold hand to cover his warm one. “Faith. I wonder. We’ve been pretty hard on God, haven’t we?” She looked up with a wistful smile. “Especially if our prayer for Alf’s safety has been answered.”

“We’ve talked about God’s timing. Patience is a lesson I’d rather have learned some other way.”

“Even if the boy is Alf, how do I know the Morris County sheriff will release him to me?”

Uncannily, she was voicing yet another of his concerns. “I can’t believe that fellow and his wife will want to keep the boy indefinitely. And if it is Alf, he will take one look at you, and no one will question where he belongs.”

Rose nodded, then withdrew into herself for a mile or two. Later, out of the blue, she said, “I want to adopt him legally.”

Seth grinned. “Why is that no surprise? It’s prudent, as well. For all intents and purposes, especially if his father is convicted of murder, the boy is an orphan. No one who has seen the two of you together would question the appropriateness of such an adoption.”

She nearly bounced on the seat beside him. “Can’t this wagon move any faster?”

“Old Nellie’s doing her best.”

Rose pulled a couple of ham sandwiches from her bag and handed him one. “I don’t know if I can swallow, but I suppose it’s best to take nourishment.”

Seth took a generous bite, realizing his stomach had been growling for quite some time. In his haste to get away this morning, he’d grabbed only a couple of biscuits and headed to the barn. “Mighty tasty,” he said. “But what else would I expect from a cook like you?”

Unable to finish hers, Rose wrapped the crusts back up and stashed them in her bag. “It’s still a puzzlement where to find God in the bad things that happen.”

Seth didn’t know whether he should reveal his conversation with Caleb, but surely he could convey the essence of it. “I’ve been stewing about that question. Maybe we’re not supposed to be able to justify things like my mother’s untimely death, the devastation of war or the abduction of a child. Perhaps there’s no accounting for the fact that we’re human beings, subject to everything that entails. You know, Caleb helped me with my questions.”

Rose glanced up, her posture one of attention. “How?”

“We’re all eager to thank God for the blessings in our lives, but too hasty in our helplessness to place blame. Caleb spoke of the horrors he witnessed in battle—atrocities that challenged his faith. But he also spoke of the valor and compassion he observed in the most desperate of circumstances that proved to him that God is with us. Quite simply, He is with us through the kind and courageous acts of our fellows.”

Rose took his hand in hers, studying it as if thereon commandments had been inscribed. “Seth Montgomery, I do believe that’s the longest and most eloquent speech I’ve ever heard from you.”

Seth could feel the flush rising from his neck to his face.

She patted his hand and withdrew hers into her lap. “It’s also the most helpful. Thank you.”

Engaged in their deep conversation, they had failed to notice clustered farmhouses and, in the distance, the spire of a church.

Sheriff Jensen wheeled his horse and came alongside the buggy. “Won’t be too long now. We’ll go straight to the sheriff’s office and then on to his home for the identification.” Before he retook the lead, he doffed his hat to Rose. “Miss Kellogg, I’m praying for you and your boy.”

Seth swallowed the lump in his throat. “See, Rose? That’s the sort of kindness that shows us we’re not alone. God sometimes speaks to us through others—through folks like Jensen.”

“I need his prayers,” Rose said softly. “And yours.”

“They are the least I can give to you.” He found himself unable to speak from that point on, his heart too full of concern for this woman and hope for her future.

* * *

The afternoon sun bore down unmercifully, and Rose was grateful for the bonnet that shaded her eyes. Ordinarily she would’ve taken in the scene of the famous Council Oak that gave the town its name, but all her attention was focused on the sign in front of a clapboard structure on a corner of the main street:
Sheriff’s Office, Morris County, Kansas
.

Wilting with heat and expectation, she took Seth’s hand when he helped her from the buggy and led her into the small, sparse office adjacent to the annex housing jail cells. A tall man wearing a cowboy hat and sporting a bushy red beard came out from behind his desk, the silver of the star on his chest glinting in a shaft of sunlight. “I’m Sheriff Riley. You must be Miss Kellogg,” he said, extending his hand.

“I am, and this is my friend Seth Montgomery, and of course you know Lars Jensen.”

“Have a seat, miss, and we’ll get right to business.” He reclaimed his desk chair after directing the others to the three available wooden chairs.

Dizzy with expectation, Rose clutched her bag, willing the sheriff to act with expediency.

“We understand that you found a half-breed boy in your barn several months ago and took him into your home.”

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes. Alf. There was a note with him.” She repeated the note’s brief contents. “I took it as a sign that I was to care for him.”

“Could you please describe the boy?”

She did the best she could to draw a mental portrait for the man. When she finished, he did not look up but studied several papers in front of him.

“Why would someone leave him with you? Have you any suspicions about who would do such a thing?”

“I have no idea who was involved. However, the note left after he was taken from the camp meeting would suggest it was one of his parents. As for why he would’ve been left with me, the only reason I can deduce is the fact my father is a doctor. Perhaps that seemed a sign the boy would be in good hands.”

“Possibly,” Sheriff Riley muttered. “Did the child take to you and your father?”

Seth interjected himself. “She and Dr. Kellogg could not have been more welcoming or done more for the boy. He is devoted to them both.”

“Thank you,” Riley said without looking up. He shuffled his paper work. “Are you willing to take over temporary care of the boy?”

BOOK: The Gift of a Child
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