A Life Restored (15 page)

Chapter 17

Following supper at the boardinghouse, Thomas walked the short distance to one of the saloons across the street.
 
He was still tied up in knots over Caroline Larson and the events of the past few days.
 
He hoped a few drinks would relax him enough that he could get plenty of sleep tonight, especially since he had to start his next mail run tomorrow.

As he took a seat at the highly polished wooden bar, he nodded to the bartender.
 
Within seconds a full mug of beer slid down to his waiting hand.

Was it really just ten days ago that he sat in this same spot, sipping the same drink, thinking what a mess he had made of this life?

Now his mind was filled with memories of Caroline held tightly against his chest as he kissed her sweet lips.
 
The desire ignited by that kiss would not die.
 
Not even when he thought about how she argued with him at every chance.

He grunted and took a long swig of his beer.

“Frustrated?” Paul asked as he took a seat next to him.

Thomas answered with another grunt.

“Thought I might find you here.”

Guilt pierced his armor ever so slowly.
 
So much for being a better man.
 
He’d never go looking for Paul in a place like this.
 
Yet, here his friend sat next to him, knowing this is where he’d be.

“What’ll ya have?” the bartender asked Paul.

“I’m fine.”

“If you’re gonna be warming that stool, then you’ll be having a drink.”

“Whatever he’s having then,” Paul answered before turning his attention back to Thomas.
 
“How you doing?”

“Not well.”

“Figured.”

Thomas sighed and took another swig of his beer.
 
The bartender slid a full one down to Paul.
 
Paul ignored it.

“Kinda surprised you ordered something,” Thomas said.

Paul slid it towards Thomas.
 
“Don’t plan on drinking it.”

Thomas frowned, suddenly irritated at his friend’s unbelievable self-control.
 
“And why not?
 
How come you never drink?”

Paul looked away.
 
“It leads to too much trouble and pain.”

Leaning his head back, he drained his beer and slid the empty mug away.
 
He fingered the handle of the full mug Paul gave him.

“What’s got you so out of sorts?” Paul asked.

“Caroline.”
 
The name sped from his mouth without hesitation.

Raising an eyebrow in question, Paul asked, “The girl you rescued?
 
What’s she got to do with anything?”

“She’s cast some sort of spell over me,” Thomas replied dryly before taking a sip of his beer.
 
Then he told Paul about everything—the trip, the kiss, her flirting with Perry Quinn.
 
His insatiable and unreasonable desire for her.

When he finished, Paul remained quiet for several minutes as Thomas continued to nurse his beer.

“Do you know how to respect a woman?” Paul asked.

The question hit him as hard as if Paul had swung one of his beefy arms at him.
 
Did he know how to respect a woman?
 
A woman he fancied?

When he failed to answer, Paul continued, “You respect a woman that you desire by not acting on it—by not dwelling on it.
 
If you truly want to treat her properly, you have to get to know her.
 
Can’t do that if all you are thinking about is the pleasure of bedding her.”

Thomas swallowed hard, convicted of his disrespectful thoughts and still shocked by Paul’s frankness.

“Caroline is not the type of woman you would find here.
 
If she is anything at all like her brother, she has strong beliefs and morals.
 
She’s not the type of woman who would get involved with a man like you.”

The words stung.

A man like him.
 
He was a wretched man.
 
A bank robber.
 
A gambler.
 
A drunk.
 
A man seeking to fulfill his own selfish desires with no regard for the damage it would cause to others.
 
He could never hope to be a good man like Drew.

“You can.”

Had he uttered the words aloud?

“You just can’t hope to be a good man on your own.
 
See that’s the problem with you, friend.
 
You try to do it all on your own, in your own power.
 
But you just aren’t strong enough.”

Thomas shifted to look Paul in the eye, his anger getting the better of him.
 
“And you are?”

Sympathy settled on Paul’s face.
 
“No, I’m not.
 
Not on my own.”

Confused, Thomas asked, “What are you talking about?”

A heavy sigh lifted then dropped Paul’s broad shoulders.
 
“The reason I understand you so well is because I was once where you are now.
 
I was trying to live up to my pa’s reputation.
 
Only I had a temper, a penchant for women, and an uncontrolled lust for whiskey.
 
It took me to the darkest place in my life.”

Paul’s eyes glazed with deep regret.

“I was about your age when I destroyed my life.”

What was he talking about?
 
This was Paul.
 
He was one of the most upstanding, decent men that he knew.
 
What could he have ever done that was so wrong?

“After my pa died, I became his instant replacement.
 
I had to run the farm.
 
I had to help raise my brother and sisters.
 
I had to comfort my ma.
 
It was too much pressure for a seventeen year old to bear.

“As I watched my sister grow up and move on, I became resentful and angry.
 
Why couldn’t I have what she had?
 
Why did I have the responsibility of taking care of Ma and the others?

“That resentfulness and anger drove me to the saloon.
 
I soon discovered how wonderful whiskey was.
 
It helped me forget the heavy responsibilities that waited for me at home.
 
It helped me feel invincible.
 
It helped me have the courage to be with the girls upstairs.
 
The whiskey fed the lust and soon the lust took over.

“At first I just spent Saturday nights at the saloon.
 
Then it became two nights, then three, then more.”

Paul cleared his throat.

“No matter what I did, I couldn’t hide from the fact that I had turned into the worst kind of man—a man so far removed from the honorable man my father was.
 
By the time I wanted to change, I felt helpless to do so.
 
I needed more.
 
More women.
 
More whiskey.

“Then, one night I came home from the saloon early, before the rest of the family turned in.
 
When I got back home, Nancy’s beau was kissing her on the porch.
 
He wasn’t being forceful or anything—at least that’s what I learned later.
 
I was out of my mind with rage.
 
I grabbed him and started pounding on his face.
 
I was about the same size as I am now and he was this thin speck of a man.

“I don’t know how long I hit him.
 
I just kept going and going.
 
Nancy was screaming at me.
 
Ma came rushing out.
 
Frank tried to stop me, but ended up with my fist in his face.
 
I kept going—until Ma came out of the house with a rifle in her hand.

“‘You stop that now, or so help me, I will shoot you,’ she said.
 
Then she cocked the gun.
 
I looked into her eyes and saw she was dead serious.
 
I stopped.”

Paul turned toward Thomas, the ache of his crime weighing heavily.

“I nearly killed him.
 
I spent some time in jail for what I did, making my Ma’s tough life even harder.
 
The time I spent in jail, I just kept thinking how I let my pa down and how I wanted to be good like him.

“I tried to be good on my own and I kept failing.
 
The call of the whiskey and women whispered in my ear, tempting.
 
I’d have a few good days then before I knew it I was right back where I started.

“Finally, my Ma had a serious conversation with me.
 
She told me that if I didn’t change, she would rather run the farm by herself, hard as it would be, than to have me there.
 
I told her I was trying.

“You know what she said to me, Thomas?”

Thomas shook his head, still shocked by Paul’s story.

“She told me I wasn’t really trying ‘cause if I was, I’d be on my knees admitting my weakness and asking the Lord to change me.

“So, that night, that’s exactly what I did.
 
With the house all quiet, I got down on my knees beside my bed.
 
I just started talking to God.
 
I told him about the mess I’d made of my life.
 
I told him what I did to Nancy’s beau and how she wouldn’t look at me when I entered a room.
 
I told him how I wanted to stop drinking and stop chasing women and stop trudging my pa’s name through the mire.
 
I told him I tried to change and I just couldn’t do it.

“For hours I prayed.
 
Then, at the end of it, I had this peace that came into my heart.
 
I was different—new.”

Paul slapped his hand down on Thomas’s shoulder and gave him a little shake.

“I ain’t good now.
 
I still, in the deepest parts of my heart want to go back to that way of life.
 
But, whenever I start feeling that pull, I turn my thoughts to God.
 
I ask him for strength ‘cause I’m too weak.
 
I ask him for help.
 
I ask him to keep my heart pure.
 
I don’t ever try to do it on my own anymore.
 
It just doesn’t work.”

Paul released his grip on Thomas’s shoulder then leaned forward propping his elbows on the bar.

Thomas sat in stunned silence still trying to make sense of Paul’s story.
 
The Paul he knew was decent and honorable.
 
He was a strong man, not just physically but in character.
 
How could he call himself weak?

Slamming his fist down on the table, Paul said, “Just don’t wait for your life to be completely destroyed before you get it, Thomas.
 
You can’t be like Drew without Him.”

The words cut through his heart as anger boiled.
 
What right did Paul have to speak to him that way?

“Get out.”

Sad lines formed around Paul’s eyes as he stood.
 
He opened his mouth as if to say more, but closed it instead.
 
Turning his back on Thomas, he walked out the doors of the saloon leaving a hurt and confused man behind.

Draining his beer, Thomas slammed the empty glass down on the bar so hard it shattered.
 
He shook his hand at his side to brush away any loose fragments.

He didn’t need God.
 
God took his mother away from him.
 
In Thomas’s experience, God wasn’t too helpful, nor kind.

Another beer disappeared quickly, followed by another, until the pain and regret of his failures numbed.

Caroline’s golden blonde hair and flashing green eyes floated across his blurred vision, quickly followed by Paul’s words.
 
She’s not the type of woman to get involved with a man like you.
 
A man like you.

Thomas pushed himself away from the bar and stumbled toward the stairs.
 
They were all wrong.
 
All of them.
 
Paul.
 
Caroline.
 
Inside he was a good man.
 
He just had too much guilt hanging around his neck.
 
And he needed to forget it for one night.

Lifting his foot, he climbed the first stair.
 
Then the next.
 
Then the next.
 
Until he found himself in front of the door to one of the soiled dove’s rooms.
 
He reached for the handle, hoping to find relief for his tormented mind.