Gabriel's Atonement (24 page)

“That's right!” The minister smiled. “Peace be with you. And tomorrow, whether you win land or not, remember this—peace be with you. God has not forgotten you, nor will He forsake you.”

The crowd murmured their agreement, and Lara felt a deep peace within her for the first time in weeks. God saw them. He was aware of their need for a place to live, and He wouldn't forsake them.

“Rise and let us sing, ‘O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,' for we do indeed have a thousand tongues today.” He raised his hands in the air and swung them inward then out, and the crowd joined him in song.

Behind them the baseball rooters yelled again as the bat cracked. It was a strange communion of churchgoers and game players.

When the song finished, the minister started singing “Beulah Land.” Those gathered round joined him singing the words:

The ball players quieted, and slowly more voices, those outside of their circle of worshippers, rose up together in song:

And when the song finished, a quiet hush fell over the crowd. Taking advantage of the moment, the preacher hollered, “Let us pray.” He led all those listening in a prayer of thanks to God and for safety on the morrow. Then he prayed for those who wouldn't get land—that God would grant them peace and provision. When he said “Amen!” the ballplayers cheered and resumed their game.

Jo hopped to her feet. “I'm going to watch the game now.”

“What about dinner? Those who attended the service are pooling food. There's liable to be some fresh meat and sweets to eat.”

Jo wavered. She glanced at the game then at Lara and shrugged. “I guess I'll eat first and then go to the game.”

Lara glanced at Grandpa and smiled. He winked at her. Food always was a good motivator for her sister.

Benches had been moved to a central spot and boards laid across to fashion a makeshift table. Then the women moved in, filling the tables with all manner of delicious food items. Lara's mouth watered as she set down two jars of peaches. Grandpa followed with a pot of fish stew. She hoped to be able to sample some of the other women's cooking.

Lara distributed a plate to each member of her family, making sure to keep Michael close. The women and children proceeded through the line first. Lara had her eye on a plate of sliced ham, but before she reached it, the last piece was taken. She sighed in disappointment and focused on a big crock of green beans with ham pieces and tiny new potatoes. Just as she was ready to step forward and claim the spoon, a woman slid in front of her.

“Excuse me, please. I just need to grab this empty plate.” She did, and passed it off to another woman, who then handed her a platter of fried chicken.

Lara felt her eyes widen, and she stared at the delicacy. The moment the woman stepped away, she snagged a chicken leg and thigh then glanced over her shoulder. “Jo, look. Fried chicken.”

Jo had the same reaction, and she grabbed another thigh and speared a fat breast, which she passed to Grandpa. Lara spooned green beans and potatoes on her plate and Michael's, thanking God for the magnificent feast. She added a slice of fresh bread and several desserts then moved away so others could fill their plates.

Betty Robinson waved them over, and although she'd just as soon avoid the Biggs men, she couldn't refuse Betty. Thankfully, the men didn't join them. Sam had avoided her ever since she turned down his proposal. The meal was a quiet one, with even talkative Betty engrossed with her dinner. Soon the feast was over, and Jo rose, eager to be off.

“Don't wander too far,” Grandpa said. “I'd hate for you to get so lost you can't find your way back to us.”

“I won't.” Jo swatted her hand behind her as she hurried away.

“Can I go?” Michael yawned.

“I think you need a rest, little man.”

“But I don't want'a.”

“
Shh
…no arguing. After your nap, we'll go see if there's a ball game we can watch.”

Her son's eyes lit up for a moment, then he shoved the crust of a peach pie slice in his mouth. Lara's gaze drifted to her grandfather, and she frowned. He sure hadn't eaten much. She lifted her eyes, noticing how tired he looked. The days of travel had been harder on him than she'd realized. She needed to do more to help him. He had a long, hard race to ride tomorrow and needed to be in good shape.

He set his plate down. “I think I'll join that great-grandson of mine for a nap. You can go sightseein' if you want, Lara.”

“Are you sure?” She would love to walk around for a bit but hated to leave them.

“We'll just be sleepin'. It would help me relax more to not have you watchin' us.”

“I can keep an eye on them, if you'd like,” Betty offered.

“That's very generous of you.” Lara rose and took the plates to scrape and wash them. “Let me walk Michael back and get him settled, then I'll return for our dishes.”

“I don't have anything to do. You go on, and I'll tend to them.”

“Why don't we do them together, then you can come walking with me?”

Betty shook her head. “I may not need a nap, but I've had enough movin' around to last me a month. I'll sit and work on my mendin' pile.”

“Are you sure?”

Betty waved her hand in the air. “Shoo! Go on and have a nice walk. And don't worry none about them two or your belongin's. I'll keep watch.”

Lara smiled at the woman's kindness. “Thank you very much.”

Once Michael had a drink and was settled in the tent next to Grandpa, Lara strode out of camp. She made note of the nearest tree and planned to keep it in sight so she wouldn't get lost. She moseyed up next to Jo, who stood with Melinda, and watched the baseball game for a few minutes, but it made no sense to her. What fun was it to hit a ball with a wooden stick and then run in circles? She shook her head. “I'm going for a walk. You want to join me?”

Jo shook her head. “I'm enjoying the game.”

Lara moved away from the crowd watching the ball players and wandered through the hodgepodge of wagons and buggies. She smiled and nodded at many people, stopped to admire the handiwork of several women sewing on a lovely quilt, then she ended up at a haphazard array of store supplies on a buckboard.

“Pots, canned goods, and paraphernalia of all kinds. If you want it, I've got it!” the skinny panhandler cried out. He caught Lara's eye and gestured to her. “C'mon and have a look. Don't cost nuthin' to look.”

He was right. Looking didn't cost her anything. She eyed the colorful bolts of calico then forced her gaze away. Lusting wasn't good and wouldn't accomplish anything. She paused to finger a blue ribbon that matched Jo's eyes, when she heard a familiar voice.

Surely not.

She turned, and there, standing in a group of men, was Gabe. He leaned back his head and laughed at something another man said.

Her heart galloped. She swiveled to face the wagon and moved down to look at a pair of brushes at the end then thanked the peddler and hurried away. Gabe was the last person she'd wanted to run into today.

Gabe chuckled at the stranger's joke. He looked past the group of men he'd been talking to and saw a woman walking away from a panhandler's wagon. Lara! He'd recognize her slim form and that ugly faded dress anywhere.

“Thank you, gents, for a nice conversation, but I see someone I need to talk to.” The men nodded their good-byes, as did Gabe, and he rushed off, determined not to lose Lara in the crowd.

He jogged past the peddler's wagon, ignoring the man as he tried to hawk a silver cigar case. That was the last thing he needed. He searched for Lara among the other wagoners selling wares but didn't see her. His pulse pumped faster. How could he have lost her so quickly?

He stopped. Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the campsites, looking for someone moving away from him. There! She darted around a gold-fringed surrey and rushed on. What was her hurry?

Gabe broke into a lope, quickly closing the gap with his long legs. “Lara!”

She stopped suddenly, stood there, then slowly turned with her arms crossed over her chest, as if talking to him was the last thing she wanted to do. He slowed his pace and walked the final steps, sending her a smile that he hoped would charm her.

But it didn't.

What had happened? And where was her son?

“Is everything all right?” He swooped off his hat and held it in front of him, rolling the brim. He knew the answer to that already, but he had no idea what the problem was.

“Everything is fine. Thank you.”

“So where's your son today?”

“He's taking a nap.”

Gabe blinked. “You didn't go off and leave him alone, did you?”

Her nostrils flared. “Of course not. A woman in a neighboring campsite is watching him, but I've been gone long enough. I really should go.” She spun around, but Gabe stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Lara, what's the matter? Please, tell me.”

She turned, arms again crossed across her middle, as if she needed a shield. “All right. Since you insist. Is it true that you're a gambler?”

Gabe's eyes widened, and he sucked in a quick breath. How in the world had she discovered that? “Yes, it's true that I've made a living as a gambler, but I'm hoping to change professions.”

She lifted a skeptical brow. “To a farmer? I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? Is a man not allowed to make a radical change in his life if he wants to?”

She wilted a bit. “Of course. It's just been my experience that gamblers rarely change.”

Her husband. That's who she referred to, but he couldn't let on that he knew. “I'm guessing someone in your life lived off the cuff?”

She relaxed a smidgen more. “My husband, Tom. He was fond of visiting the saloons and trying to multiply his monthly pay at the gaming tables, but he never did.”

And she was the one who paid the price. “I was a good gambler. Won much more than I lost.”

Lara lifted her head, her expression pained. “Did you ever once stop to think about how you were hurting the families of those men whose money you won? Women and children went hungry so that you could line your pockets or buy another fancy suit. Did you ever think about that as you walked home at night, gloating over your winnings?”

“To be honest, I didn't. But my eyes have recently been opened, and that's one reason I'd like to change professions.”

“It would be good if you could, but have you ever farmed before?”

“Actually, I was raised on one, but I don't intend to farm. I want to raise horses.”

Her tense posture softened. “I love horses. My grandfather raised them before—” She cleared her throat. “Riding was often the highlight of my day.”

So she might actually have a chance then, when she rode in the race. He enjoyed the fact that they had some common ground. “I've always liked them, too. We had stock horses on the farm, and my stepfather had a riding horse, but I never had my own until I left home.”

“Might I ask, if you were raised on a farm, how did you become a gambler?”

His jaw tightened as he thought of his stepfather's cruel treatment. “It's not something I like to talk about.”

“I see. Well, I probably should get back and check if Michael is awake.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

She shot him a look that said she did, but he fell into step with her.

“So, are you ready for tomorrow?”

She lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.

He paused and turned her toward him. He gazed into her pretty green eyes, which today looked almost lifeless. Because of him? Or was something else bothering her? “Tomorrow is one of the most exciting days in the history of this nation. How can you not be excited?”

She inhaled a long breath and then blew it out. “Because I worry about the thousands of people who will be brokenhearted in thirty hours because they didn't get land.” She turned and stared off in the distance. “I worry about my family.”

He didn't like the thought of her losing. He hadn't even thought that much about the horde of people who would be devastated tomorrow evening because they failed. “I guess they'll go back to wherever they were before they came here. I imagine most folks have family they can live with.”