Tracie Peterson - [Heirs of Montana 04] (41 page)

“How do you think it works? Heaven, I mean,” she said softly. “Is there some great nursery where children go when they die?” She liked to think of her baby son being happy with other children who’d gone before him. Her own sister Betsy and their unborn sibling, Ardith’s baby and Faith’s lost children. She could well imagine them all being together, tenderly cared for by some celestial being.

“I don’t know,” Cole admitted. “But I know that God loves us. I know that He loves Isaiah and all other children. I’m sure He has a special place for them—a place where they’re cared for and treated real special.”

“I just wish I knew,” she said. “It’s hard not knowing.”

He turned her around and stepped back a pace. “But you know your Father in heaven. You know He is always loving. His very nature is love, so we have to know that those babies are loved—they’re safe and nothing and no one can grieve them.”

“And they never have to worry about being hungry or cold.”

“Or tired or in pain.”

Tears streamed down Dianne’s face. “I know he’s gone to a better place. I keep reminding myself of that. But my arms are still empty.”

Cole pulled her close. “They aren’t now, and they never will be if I have anything to say about it.”

George saw Luke walking around the outer edges of the yard and wondered what the boy was thinking. They were nearly ready for the funeral, and George couldn’t help but wonder if the boy was feeling out of sorts about it all.

Walking over to the corral and pretending to check on the structure, George motioned to Luke. “You doing all right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know why people gotta die.”

George nodded. “It can be kind of confusing.”

“My baby brother didn’t do nothing wrong. He shouldn’t get punished.”

“Luke, death isn’t a punishment.” George squatted down. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

“Well, sure. Bad people get killed—like when the law catches them and hangs them. Ma said that people sometimes die when they are doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

“Both things are true,” George agreed, “but death doesn’t always come as a punishment. Sometimes people just get old and die. Sometimes they get sick and die. Death is in the world because of sin, that much is true, but God isn’t standing by waiting to punish us with it because we’re sinful folks.”

“My brother wasn’t even born when he died. He couldn’t have been sinful,” Luke protested.

George felt he’d gotten in over his head, but he tried to stumble through. “Luke, some things are a mystery. Ever since Adam and Eve sinned in the garden, there have been consequences.”

“That don’t hardly seem fair,” he said. “I wasn’t there. My brother wasn’t there. How can that be fair to punish my brother for what Adam and Eve did?”

“I’ve often wondered that myself. But God knew the choices they’d make—He knows the choices we make. We’re sinful by nature, but we can be redeemed with Jesus. Jesus can help us not to want to sin. As for your baby brother, well, I can’t say that I have the answer for why he had to die, but I trust that God knows. God isn’t trying to hurt us by taking baby Isaiah away, and He isn’t trying to punish us. These things just happen because we are human. People get sick and die, like I said earlier. Your baby brother got sick inside your mother. Nobody knew he was sick, so nobody could help him.”

“But you said God knows everything—so He knew my brother was sick.”

“True, and maybe taking him to heaven was the best way to make him well. Did you ever think about that?”

Luke cocked his head to one side. “You think that’s what happened?”

“I think it’s very possible. Sometimes God fixes folks right here on earth—like your Mama. She was real sick and almost died, but God healed her body so that she could stay here and be with you children. Sometimes God takes folks home to be with Him, however. You gotta know that He still loves them as much as the folks he leaves here to keep on living. It’s not a punishment, Luke.”

“I guess not.”

George got to his feet and put his arm around Luke’s shoulders. “All through your life there are going to be times when you don’t understand why God is doing things the way He is. The Bible says our thoughts aren’t His thoughts and our ways aren’t His ways. That sometimes makes it hard for us to understand why things are happening the way they are. But God doesn’t call us to understand, Luke. He calls us to trust Him. Can you do that?”

He looked up thoughtfully. “I want to.”

George smiled. “That’s a start. Keep looking to God, Luke. He won’t let you down, and someday we’re gonna understand why things happen the way they do.” He looked across the yard to where Cole and Dianne had just appeared. Cole carried the tiny coffin.

“You ready?” George asked Luke.

The boy nodded and started off to join his parents. He stopped abruptly and turned back. “Thanks, George. My heart doesn’t hurt so much now.”

The funeral was simple, with Ben giving a loving tribute to the child no one ever knew. Isaiah Daniel Selby was buried beside his great uncle Bram, uncle Levi, and Gus. The day was bright and full of the hope of spring. The children were subdued during the funeral, but afterward they seemed to quickly recover and tore out across the yard with squeals of delight. Luke and Winona seemed more sober, walking together and talking, but even they seemed to be accepting of the event without too much grief.

“They seem to be taking this well,” Dianne said, watching them go off to play.

“Children sometimes seem better able than adults to accept death,” Ben said as he joined her and Charity. “Sometimes they don’t, of course. They expect a father or mother who has died to reappear. Even now, I’m sure the depth of this situation is impossible for them to comprehend.”

“True,” Charity said. “The baby hardly seemed real to them. It would be different if it were, say, John who’d passed on. They all know him and share memories with him.”

“I know it’s true even for me,” Dianne had to admit. “I can barely stand the pain of losing Isaiah, but the thought of losing Lia or the others would completely devastate me, I’m sure. Like you said, I have memories with them and it would be hard to just walk away from that.”

“I’m going to go help get dinner on,” Charity said, getting to her feet. “Why don’t you rest here and enjoy the spring sunshine? Hopefully the Good Lord will hold off with any more bad weather.”

“That would definitely be a blessing,” Dianne murmured. She got to her feet and looked to Ben. “Would you care to take a walk with me?”

He grinned. “I’d like that very much.” He stood and offered Dianne his arm.

They walked slowly down the trail that long ago had become the main drive into the ranch. Dianne tried hard not to look at the place through the eyes of yesterday but rather with new eyes that could see the promise of what was to come.

“I feel as if I’m walking this lane for the first time,” she said softly. “I’m determined to start afresh.”

Ben nodded. “It’s a good plan, Dianne. There’s nothing to be gained in living in the past. God would have you move forward—to make new dreams.”

“I haven’t bothered to dream in so long. Making plans simply hurt too much. I was always afraid of what Cole would or wouldn’t want to do. It’s different now. I’ve learned so much in the wake of losing Isaiah.”

“I know you’ve had it difficult this last year,” he said. “It’s hard to see times like that as necessary growing periods. Sometimes they come to us out of our own disobedience and rebellion, and sometimes they’re just times that come by nature of growing in the Lord.”

“I know much of my sorrow has been borne out of rebellion and trying to do things my own way.” Dianne pushed back a strand of hair that had come loose in the light breeze. As the land inclined toward her favorite hill, Dianne slowed her pace to accommodate Ben’s aging limbs. “I don’t know why I always have to learn things the hard way. Just when I think I completely understand how a thing ought to be—how I ought to conduct myself—I manage to mess up everything and make the wrong choice.”

“We’re only human,” he said. “We’re fallible and long to be in control of our destinies. But we learn early on that taking charge of such a beast isn’t as easy as we think.”

“I know that full well,” she admitted. “I don’t know where God is leading our future. I hope you’ll pray with me about it. I worry that starting over here isn’t the right choice for Cole and our family.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I suppose because of something Cole told me. He talked about being afraid to come back here—afraid to fail—afraid that he wouldn’t be able to bring the ranch back to its former glory.”

“Perhaps that won’t happen,” Ben said, nodding slowly. “But it’s possible that a new glory would be even better.”

Dianne considered his words as they continued to walk.

Ben’s perspective on the matter helped her sort through the strange out-of-sort pieces that had become her life.

“What if we were to start a new ranch? Maybe find a way to buy land close by or even adjoining? We could arrange for Jamie to take this place for his own. Even if our name remained on the deed, he could treat it as his own.”

“Is there land close by that would be available? I thought Chester Lawrence owned most everything to the north and east of you.”

“That’s true, but there might be something to the west. Many people will be selling out because of their losses. Chester Lawrence might even be considering such a thing, although I’m certain he would never sell to us. Perhaps he might sell to another person, who then in turn might sell to us.” Dianne sighed. “I don’t like the idea of benefiting off of someone else’s misfortune, but Cole feels certain a lot of small ranches will go under from the loss of livestock.”

“No doubt he’s right. And if those people are determined to sell, you can’t let sentiment stand in the way. I see nothing wrong with buying their land so long as you pay them a fair price.”

“Most of the folks I don’t even know very well. So many left after the fire or over the years since. It almost feels like a new territory—like when I first came here.” But as they rounded the final bend in the road and stood at the top of Dianne’s hill, she knew the land that spilled out beneath them like the back of her hand. She’d walked most every inch of that valley. She knew the turns in the river, the ravines and rocky crags.

“This was always my favorite place to come,” she said. “I could look down on the ranch and see that everything was just right. The land hasn’t changed—not really. The trees are gone, but new ones are growing back. The house Uncle Bram built is no more, but new houses stand in its place. Still …” She fell silent, realizing that something was very different for her. She still loved this land, but something had happened in her heart.

“Still?” Ben questioned.

She laughed. “I don’t feel the same way. The land hasn’t changed, but I have.”

He grinned. “That’s always the way of it. When we’re seeking God’s heart, our own can’t help but be different.”

“That’s it,” she said. “I’ve been seeking the Lord so hard for these past weeks. Ever since waking up after losing the baby. I don’t understand why it should have taken so long to come to this place.”

“And what place is that?”

“The place where I can honestly say that so long as I have my family with me, and the Lord guiding, I can live anywhere. I didn’t think that was possible. I mean, even now, I don’t want to go back to Kansas and Cole’s mother, but I know…” She paused again, letting her words trail. It was almost as if before speaking she had to test her heart and know that her words would be true. “Yes,” she said, “I know that I could do even that—if that was where the Lord wanted us.” She grinned and reached out to take hold of Ben’s hand. “Because I know He would make it well within my soul. He would be my hope within, and nothing else would matter.”