Tracie Peterson (6 page)

Chapter 8

I
t seemed only moments had passed since Maggie had last opened her eyes. But looking above, she was dumfounded to find mud, thatch, and sod hanging over thin poles. Where was she? Maggie struggled in vain to remember what had happened on the rain-drenched prairie.

Mindless of the pain in her chest, Maggie sat up and began coughing violently. A bearded Garrett Lucas rushed into the room to her side.

“Try to take a sip of water,” he said, gently supporting her back while
handing her a tin cup. Maggie did as he said and found her cough abated
somewhat.

“What happened? Where are we?” Maggie whispered hoarsely. She was puzzled that Garrett wore a beard and his attire had so drastically changed since last she’d seen him on the train.

Garrett went to the small cook stove and returned with the cup.

“Drink this,” he instructed.

Maggie took the cup and looked inside. It held a thick black syrup. “What is it?” she questioned skeptically.

“It’s medicine to clear out your lungs,” Garrett replied, concern hanging thick in his voice.

“Your stomach too, I’d venture to say,” Maggie said, trying to lighten his mood.

Garrett laughed at Maggie’s words. It was so good to hear her speak, even if to question his actions.

“I’m glad I amuse you, but what in the world has happened? I remember walking out of Newton, and the terrible storms, but after that. . .” Maggie paused trying her best to remember.

“Drink first, and then we’ll talk,” Garrett said, pointing to the cup. Maggie screwed up her face at the thought of drinking the medicine but did as Garrett instructed. The blend wasn’t so bad. Maggie finished it and held the empty cup up as proof.

Garrett set the cup aside and pulled up a crude wooden chair. “Now, I believe we have some things to discuss.” His dark brown hair was a bit wild, and the beard made him look older.

Maggie was captivated by the way Garrett looked, but she refused to
acknowledge even the slightest admiration. She waited for Garrett to contin
ue.

“I don’t know what in the world you were thinking, getting off a train in the middle of the night,” Garrett tried unsuccessfully to sound stern. When he looked at Maggie, even in her sickly state, she was all he’d ever wanted. She was beautiful, intelligent, hardworking, and resourceful—although, he would have to teach her a bit more about that last quality.

“I wanted to go home to my grandmother,” Maggie offered lamely.

Garrett ignored her remark. “I went to let you know the train was turning back because of the flood waters. I had the porter open your door when you didn’t answer, and—” His voice caught. “I felt like dying inside when I saw you were gone.”

“Father would have been quite miffed with you, eh?” Maggie teased, still refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation.

“Don’t you know how close you came to dying?” Garrett’s face contort
ed painfully.

“I suppose very close.”

“You suppose that, do you? Well, if I hadn’t come riding up when I did, you wouldn’t have lived another hour. You were drenched to the bone and nearly unconscious. I was lucky enough to locate a doctor. He and his wife agreed to let us stay here in their dugout.”

“So, this is a dugout?” Maggie murmured while looking around the small room. Everything seemed to touch. What little furniture she could see was poorly put together, not at all what one would expect a doctor to have. The dugout had been dug by hand, some six or eight feet into the earth. The roof rose above the prairie only two or three feet.

“Yes, this is a dugout. But that isn’t the issue. Maggie, please promise me you won’t run away again. I can’t imagine returning to your father or grandmother and explaining that you got yourself killed.”

Maggie could sense the genuine concern in Garrett’s voice.
Why did he care so much? He hardly knew her.

“I’m sorry, Garrett. I shouldn’t have run, but I was scared. I kept thinking about never seeing Grandmother again. Then I thought about having to face my father and his condemnation. All that along with what it would be like to. . .” Her words faded as she nearly mentioned the idea of becoming Garrett’s wife. Embarrassed, Maggie lowered her face.

“I put a great deal of pressure on you,” Garrett apologized. “I’m sorry for that. Back in New Mexico, the plan seemed so right.”

“I guess sometimes we only seek our own way,” Maggie said softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever done as much praying as I have in the last few hours. Not that I really expected God to listen to me.”

“Last few hours? How long do you think we’ve been here, Maggie?”

“I was just going to ask you that.”

“Five days,” Garrett replied dryly.

“Five?”

“That’s right.” Garrett leaned back against the chair. “Five days of wondering and waiting. Praying that you’d live but feeling so helpless. That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I can’t believe it’s been that long. It seems like just hours ago I was bartering with God for my rescue, and here you are.”

“Oh, Maggie. I wish it was that simple. I found you, brought you here, and waited. Doc said he’d done all he could. We took turns watching over you. I told God if He would make you well, I’d never force you to marry me.” There. He’d finally said the words.

Maggie burst out laughing, and with the laughter came the cough again.

“Maybe we should wait. Maybe you aren’t up to this,” Garrett hastily suggested, concerned that she was becoming hysterical.

“No, pl. . .please,” Maggie sputtered the words, trying to contain her cough. “Don’t take offense. I’m only laughing because I made a similar deal with God myself. I told him I’d do whatever He wanted me to, even if that meant marrying you and living with Father. I said if God would rescue me, I’d stop fighting Him.”

“I see,” Garrett said thoughtfully, realizing Maggie had said nothing of a commitment to Jesus. “Seems we’ve both been bartering with God.”

“Grandmother would chastise me,” Maggie admitted. “She used to say, ‘Never offer God anything you aren’t ready, willing, and able to give.’ ”

“And now, Maggie.” Garrett’s voice was barely audible, “are you ready, willing, and able to follow God’s direction for your life?”

“What about you, Garrett Lucas?” Maggie avoided the question.

“It seems to me, God saved us both in spite of ourselves. I don’t think we thought too clearly. I’d hate to be rash with any decision, but I did promise God I’d leave you be.”

Maggie tried not to show her disappointment. Part of her was starting to like the idea of becoming Mrs. Garrett Lucas.

“I promised God I would do anything, even live with my father and become your wife. I can’t break a vow to God,” Maggie answered honestly.

“I’d say there’s something important to learn from this. We need to seek God’s will over our own. He’ll guide us, but He can’t if we’re always trying to lead,” Garrett reflected.

“I believe that’s true. I guess I’m ready to try harder at trusting Him,” Maggie added.

“Even with your life?”

Maggie lowered her eyes and fingered the sheets nervously. “I don’t know. I don’t want to make that kind of decision lightly, and I don’t want to make it simply because I’m scared. I want it to mean more than that.”

Garrett nodded. “I wouldn’t presume to rush you. You’ll make the right choice when God’s timing is complete.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Maggie whispered. “I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know.”

“I wonder, Maggie,” Garrett mused, leaning toward her from the edge of his chair. “I wonder if we could start over.”

“Start over? What do you mean?”

“I’d like to be your friend, even if I never become your husband. Although,” Garrett added with a wry smile, “I’d like to be that too.”

Maggie blushed.

“I believe,” she replied after a thoughtful moment, “we could be friends. I will be your friend and I will go to my father’s ranch willingly. On that I give you my word.”

Garrett gently lifted Maggie’s chin. He studied her delicate cheekbones and dainty lips. When he looked into Maggie’s eyes, he found a sincerity he hadn’t dared to hope for.

“I know it will please your father, and if it means much,” Garrett added, “it pleases me.”

“Garrett, please don’t rush me about my father. I still feel uncomfortable about this whole thing. I won’t lie and tell you otherwise. I feel trapped, but I know that going to him is the right thing.” Maggie tried to clear the hoarseness in her voice. “I can’t pretend I feel anything but pain about the past and my father.”

“I understand. I just love Jason so much. He’s been like a father to me.” Garrett immediately regretted the words.

“I wish he’d been a father to me,” Maggie breathed.

“I wish he could have too. Selfishly, I’m glad he left Topeka. I’d be a far worse man if I’d never met him. But because I care for you, I’m sorry he had to leave you.”

He cared for her. Maggie warmed at the thought. Refusing to get carried away, Maggie pushed the feeling aside.

“There are a great many things I wish I could change,” she finally said, looking up at the sod roof. “But wishing doesn’t make it so. It doesn’t bring people back to life, or give you a place to belong.”

“Maggie, you’ll always have a place to belong. You belong to God, but you just don’t know it yet. You belong with your father, but you can’t get past the mistakes. And,” Garrett sighed, “I’d like to think you belong with me.”

Maggie offered a gentle smile. “All I can do is try,” she replied. “But it’s going to take time, and I’ll need your understanding.”

“I promise to help in whatever way I can.” Garrett whispered the words although he wanted to shout in triumph. With God’s help, he had broken through the wall of protection Maggie had built around herself. The foundation for friendship had been laid.

An hour later, a white-haired woman came bustling through the door and down the dirt stairs of the dugout. She huffed as she struggled to carry in a basket of vegetables.

“Well, look who’s awake,” she said, spying Maggie.

Garrett smiled broadly. “We’ve already had quite a lively conversation. I gave her some medicine and made her stay put.”

“I must say, Child, you gave us quite a fright. Doc will be mighty happy to see you’ve pulled out of it,” the woman remarked, stepping to Maggie’s bedside.

“Maggie, this is Dottie. She’s the doctor’s wife,” Garrett introduced. “She and Doc have allowed us the pleasure of staying here until you get well enough to travel.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Maggie said sweetly. “It’s so kind of you to let us stay here.”

“Ain’t nothing at all. I was glad for the company. Doc doesn’t always make it home very early, and it gets mighty lonesome out here on the plains. I was glad to have you both, ’specially this one,” Dottie nodded toward Garrett. “He’s been a Godsend—brings me fresh water for the garden and totes and fetches just about anything else I need.”

“If she’d waited, I would have carried in those vegetables too,” Garrett added with an admonishing look.

“Weren’t that heavy. Didn’t see any reason to go bothering you.” Dottie waved him off. “Now how about you, Missy. Hungry?”

“I think I am,” Maggie replied, realizing she wanted something to eat.

“Good. I was just about to get us some lunch. Broth for you and stew and biscuits for us.” The older woman pulled on a clean apron.

Maggie wrinkled her nose. She’d hoped for something more substantial. Nonetheless, she felt very fortunate and cared for. She pushed aside the nagging thought that God had watched over her.

Day after day flew by. As Maggie grew stronger, she spent more time contemplating her life. She also developed a real love for Dottie and Doc. The older man had infinite patience and entertained his patient with humorous stories from his practice.

Maggie enjoyed watching Doc and Dottie as they playfully bantered
words. Doc teased Dottie as if she were a young schoolgirl, and Maggie
noticed Dottie blushing on more than one occasion.
It must be wonderful to love each other so much after so many years of marriage,
Maggie thought.

Eager to be up and around, Maggie talked Doc into letting her get out of bed at the end of the first week. As the end of the second week neared, she and Garrett began talking about the trip back to Newton.

“With the horse I bought in Newton, we can make it back to town in a matter of hours,” Garrett began, as he and Maggie strolled along the outside of the dugout. The sky threatened rain any minute, and Garrett wouldn’t allow them a longer walk. “Or Doc could drive us in his buckboard. I thought I could leave him the horse as partial payment for all he and Dottie have done. They don’t have a good saddle horse.”

Maggie remembered her unsuccessful search for a horse.

“How did you ever find a horse to buy in Newton?”

Garrett’s eyes danced with amusement. “I take it you tried and failed?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, but—” Maggie’s words were lost in the rumble of thunder.

“I think we should get inside,” Garrett suggested.

“I agree. I’ve been in one too many storms already,” Maggie said, turning toward the dugout steps.

The storm roared across the prairie. The roof of the dugout leaked, and it swayed in the gusty winds. Maggie had to light the lamp twice because of the draft from the storm.

“We’ll be lucky if there isn’t hail,” Garrett stated as he cracked open the door and looked out. “I’m glad Dottie went to town with Doc this morning.”

“Do you think it will get much worse?” Maggie asked, paling at the thought.

“I don’t know. The rain’s letting up some, and the wind is dying down. Maybe the worst is past. I’m going to take a look,” Garrett replied and opened the door. “You stay put.”

Maggie watched Garrett’s booted feet disappear up the stairs. Curious about what was happening, she followed him. He seemed intent on something to the south, and when Maggie made it to the top of the stairs, she found out why. She gasped as she caught sight of a large tornado heading toward them.