Petticoat Ranch (33 page)

His sweetness and concern made the tears flow faster.

“When you cry I feel like some kind of a monster who has hurt you or scared you half to death or. . .”

Sophie lunged forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard to get him to quit talking crazy. She pulled back and smiled at his stunned expression. Softly enough to ensure privacy in the crowded house, she said, “A woman doesn’t always cry when she’s sad or hurt, Clay. I was lying here thinking that God gave me a miracle when he sent Adam, Luther, and Buff to me.”

“He did, didn’t He? A true miracle.”

Sophie nodded and swiped at her tears. “And He gave me a miracle when He sent you.”

Clay looked confused. “It’s the other way around, near as I can tell. You saved my life. You pulled me out of that creek and patched me up. You’re the only one in this room who’s a miracle.”

Sophie kissed him again, then tucked her head under his chin and hugged him. Clay held her so tight it hurt, and it was the best hurt in the world.

At last she pulled back far enough to see him. “We are just going to have to disagree about who the miracle is.”

Clay smiled and brushed the hair off her soggy face. “I reckon that’s a disagreement I can live with.” He offered her a handkerchief.

Sophie turned away a bit and blew her nose and clenched the handkerchief tight. “I keep thinking about how you came here and how much better my life is because of it. Then I thought about God doing a pure, real live miracle just for me, and I was so honored and humbled, it made me cry.”

“Kinda like when the girls cried over the baby?”

“Just like that,” Sophie said, relieved he understood.

“Waste of water and salt,” Clay grumbled.

Sophie smiled and kissed him again, and only the men in the next room, who might be listening, and a twinge of old fear kept her from telling him she had fallen in love with him.

“Try an’ get some rest, darlin’.” Clay pressed her back against her pillow.

Sophie nodded. Clay stood and took a couple of steps toward the door. He paused and looked back at her, and then he awkwardly came back, leaned over, and kissed her on the forehead, then the cheek, then her lips.

He brushed her hair back again. “You and the girls, and this life I’ve got myself into, will always be a miracle to me, Sophie.”

As if he’d embarrassed himself, he straightened away from her and hurried from the room.

Sophie lay there awhile and did a little more crying, but she was very careful not to think
help me
, not wanting to overtax the Lord’s supply of miracles or Luther’s and Adam’s supply of patience. She curled onto her side and hugged Clay’s baby in her arms and let her eyes drift shut, thinking she’d just rest for a second, to please Clay. The next thing she knew, Clay was pulling her into his arms, and she woke in the pitch-black room. She was just awake enough to say, “I need to make biscuits.”

Clay snuggled her up close. “You just rest.”

She thought how odd it was that he was so fixated on her need to rest. She had to explain to him how tough she was and how hard she had always worked. Really, her husband didn’t know her at all. And she’d tell him so, as soon as she finished her little nap.

“Percy never came back,” Harley said. “Something’s gone wrong.”

Judd threw back his blanket and started pulling his boots on.

Harley said sharply, “We’re breaking camp!”

Eight of the ten men left were asleep. Harley’s voice woke them as if it were a rifle shot. The two men on watch came charging into the camp. A quick glance at the heavy-lidded eyes told Judd they’d both been asleep. Judd didn’t waste his lead on them.

“If they’re caught, they might tell where we’re hid out,” Harley said.

Judd looked around the campsite. “If they’d have done for McClellen, they’d have come back into the camp hootin’ and hollerin’. You’re right. We break camp.”

Harley was already saddling his horse. Judd noticed he wasn’t particularly interested in what the rest of them did or if Judd agreed with him. Harley had lived longer than most men in his profession, and Judd trusted his instincts.

Harley said, “Let’s head into the Santiagos for a few days then figure what to do next.”

“What if you’re wrong?” one of the men asked. “What if Percy comes back? He won’t be able to find us.”

“The three best trackers we have went with him. They’ll find us.” Judd hoped they wouldn’t, since he was sure they’d have a posse with them when they came back—
if
they came back. He knew what kind of a man Percy was. A low-down, cowardly coyote who’d sell his own mother to save his skin.

“We’ll drop back and come up with a new plan to get that ranch,” Judd said. “We killed Edwards; we can kill his twin brother.”

“We’ve been watching long enough to know McClellen’s nothing like his tenderfoot brother.” Harley spurred his horse and didn’t look to see if anyone in the gang was with him.

Judd fell in behind him. As he pushed his horse into a gallop, he realized he was running. This was the second time McClellen had made them run. The defeat tasted like ashes in his mouth.

N 
I N E T E E N
          

T
he ranch settled into a routine with the capture of the four outlaws. Every cowhand did his work as usual, but all kept their guns close at hand and stayed on razor’s edge. As a week slowly passed, Sophie began to hope the rest of the gang had hightailed it.

Parson Roscoe picked this Sunday to yell at them again. Sophie thought the man was on to something, changing the tone of his sermons from week to week. She certainly listened to every word he said. But why wouldn’t she? He’d obviously heard how Sophie had lied by omission to her husband, and he’d written the sermon just to scold her.

She thought it was rather rude of him to pick on her, especially since she’d been trying to be more loving and a more obedient wife. But she had only decided about being a better wife after the run-in with the outlaws, so maybe the parson already had his sermon written, based on the way she used to act. Besides, it was a full month into her marriage, which was kind of late to begin behaving herself, so she figured she deserved it.

She probably also deserved to have Sally and Mandy clinging to her, one on each side, and Laura sleeping dead away on her lap. The seemingly boneless little girl seemed to gain weight with each passing moment.

“How is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit?”

Sophie didn’t like to think Satan had filled her heart. She would
have sunk further into her seat if she could have—she was practically slouched out of sight as it was.

“You didn’t really tell a lie,”
a quiet voice whispered. Sophie suspected it was the voice of Satan himself, tempting her to justify her disobedience to her husband. Mentally, she told him to get away from her.

I’ve already decided to change,
she thought.
You aren’t going to convince me to keep sneaking around.

Sophie snapped her attention back to the parson when he thundered, “Later Ananias’s wife came in to the assembly and repeated the lie she and her husband had agreed on.”

That’s when Sophie realized the parson was reading a Bible verse, and it wasn’t her heart that Satan had filled but the heart of Ananias.
Whew!

“Peter said to Sapphira, ‘How could you agree to test the Spirit of the Lord? Look, the feet of the men who buried your husband are at the door, and they will carry you out also.’ ” Parson Roscoe’s voice kept gaining strength.

Sally and Mandy squirmed closer. Sophie, ever the mother, glanced down the row at Beth and saw that she was now sitting on Clay’s lap with her face buried in his chest. Sophie wondered if the McClellen clan shouldn’t start sitting nearer the back.

“ ‘At that moment Sapphira fell down at Peter’s feet and
died
.’ ” The walls of the church nearly vibrated as the parson roared out the last word. Parson Roscoe stopped to take a deep breath and mop the sweat off his brow.

Sophie wondered if Sapphira wasn’t Hebrew for Sophie. It was close enough to sting.
I’m done with lies, Lord,
Sophie prayed in her heart.
I am. I’m going to love everyone and be honest right down to the ground. You gave me a miracle, and I won’t give back anything but my very best. Now could You please make the parson quit yelling at me?

God had given her a miracle all right. But He didn’t give her another one now. About halfway through the sermon—which stretched on so long Sophie began to wonder if there weren’t more liars in the building than
just her, since God should have told the parson that she got his point right off—Sally relaxed her death grip on Sophie’s arm. Sophie looked down to see her little girl fast asleep. Sophie looked sideways at Clay, who caught the glance and smiled. He reached across Sally and lifted the, by now, two-hundred-pound Laura out of Sophie’s arms and settled her beside the clinging Beth. Then, with a deft move that should have required a third hand, he shifted Sally’s slumbering form so it rested on his arm, instead of Sophie.

Sophie whispered, “Your arm.”

Clay mouthed back, “I’m okay.”

Sophie wanted to protest, but having the weight lifted off of her was too heavenly. She sighed aloud in relief and Clay smiled at her.

The parson began to wind down shortly after that. “Ananias and Sapphira died because God looked into their hearts and knew that there was no repentance and no love. There was time for both of them to change their minds and tell the truth. There is time for all of us, right now, to accept the love of God, repent of our sins, commit our lives to Jesus Christ, and accept His salvation.”

The parson lifted his Bible, draped open over one hand. “It’s the eternal theme. It’s love. There are no lies when there is love. Can any of you imagine a more complete waste of time than lying to God?”

Several people in the congregation shook their heads, and Sophie found her head moving along.

“He already knows.” The parson lowered the Bible and leaned forward. “He knows the truth in everyone’s heart. Save your energy for something that has a chance of success.”

Sophie reached her hand over the top of Sally’s nodding head and rested it on Clay’s strong, wounded arm. She didn’t say anything, since they were in the front row after all. But she smiled at him and made a promise to herself that she’d tell Clay all about her booby traps and hidden weapons this very day. Why, she’d tell him on the trip home without another moment’s delay. No more lies. None ever. Sophie felt a lightness come over her heart, and she knew it was the right thing to do.

With a quick prayer for forgiveness and a promise to God that she was going to start a new life this second, much as she’d promised last week, Sophie turned back to the parson and sang along to “Amazing Grace.”

Just as the song ended, a loud
crash
sounded from the back of the church. It woke Sally and had both Beth and Mandy turning around in their seats.

“Is everyone all right back there?” the parson asked with a worried frown.

When he talked like that, Sophie couldn’t resist looking behind her, even though it was bad manners to turn around in church. She thought the noise came from the farthest back pew, which was teeming with toe-headed little boys—the Reeves family.

“Did something get broken?” Parson Roscoe peered toward the noise.

One of the five-year-old triplets poked his head out from where he was crouched behind the pew. He said, in a tone that screamed of a guilty conscience, “No, sir.”

As the raggedly dressed, dirty-faced, little boy stood up, no one could fail to see the wooden rack in his hand that was only moments ago nailed on to the end of his pew to hold the hymnal.

“Mark, you little liar.” One of his older brothers elbowed the little boy.

Everyone in the church started to chuckle.

The parson walked down the center aisle and extended his hand to the little boy. “Don’t worry about the book rack. It can be fixed.”

Daniel Reeves stood up and took the piece of lumber out of his son’s hand before the parson could reach it. “I’ll repair it, Parson. A Reeves fixes what he breaks.”