Tracie Peterson (9 page)

“But Maggie, you won’t be alone. God will go with you.”

“God doesn’t appear to have come with me this far,” Maggie said, immediately regretting the words.

“Maggie, you don’t believe that. I know your words were spoken out of fear, but I’m telling you that you have nothing to fear. Your father adores you. He’s missed you every day of your separation. You won’t find it hard to span the years. I promise. And as for Jesus—well, He’s been standing with open arms all your life.”

“Words. Just words,” Maggie said, pulling herself to her feet. “I’m in exactly the same position I was years ago: on my own, to stand alone. You probably won’t come back.” Her voice gave way to a sob.

Garrett was beside her in a flash. “I’ll be back. Don’t ever doubt it. I’m going to marry you one day, Maggie Intissar, and that is something you can most definitely count on.”

Surprising herself and Garrett, Maggie jumped over the side of the wagon and headed toward the campfire light.

“I mean it, Maggie. Don’t ever doubt me,” Garrett called after her. Maggie kept going.

Taking a blanket Bill offered, she rested on the makeshift bed Bill had prepared from pine needles and blankets. She refused to let the men see her cry, but long after the sounds of heavy breathing and snoring filled the air, another sound joined the night. It was the sound of Maggie’s intense, muffled sobs—cries that did not escape Garrett Lucas.

Chapter 11

T
he next day, Maggie was riding with Bill when they paused at the opening of the valley her father ranched. Maggie stared in awe. Piñon Canyon, as the ranch was called, stretched for miles. The burnt orange adobe ranch house contrasted sharply with the sturdy green piñon pines, which grew in abundance in the valley. Other, smaller buildings dotted the landscape, and several huge corrals stood in direct angles from the house. Beyond the inner circle of the ranch threaded a wide, silvery stream.

“I can hardly believe it,” Maggie said in wonder. “I never would’ve guessed something so heavenly could be hidden in the middle of the desolation we’ve been riding through. It’s beautiful!”

“That it is, Miss Maggie. I’ve called it home for nearly twelve years now, and it’s always a welcome sight,” Bill said enthusiastically.

“Twelve years? But my father has only been in the territory for eight years.”

“That’s so, but I worked this ranch for the former owner. Course it
weren’t nothing like what your pa has made of it. It was just a little stomping ground then. I was one of only three hands. Your father keeps over fifty.” Bill urged the horses forward with a flick of the reins.

“Fifty? Why does my father need so many people?” Maggie questioned, suddenly wanting to know everything.

“There’s enough work for fifty people, so he hired fifty,” Bill said in his joking manner. “See, there’s a lot more to a ranch than meets the eye. Somebody’s got to keep up with the herd’s feeding, watering, herding, branding, medicating, and such. Then there’s those who keep up the land and the property. Those fences didn’t just put themselves up, and they don’t stay up without help. Not to mention the house help.”

“I get the picture, Bill,” Maggie laughed. Then, more seriously, she asked, “What’s my father like?”

“I think pretty highly of your pa. He’s an honest man, pays a fair wage, and sees to it that no one goes without. He even keeps a mission on the property. It’s over that ridge, ’bout twelve miles. He supports the minister and his wife who keep it up for the Pueblos.”

“Oh yes, the Indians,” Maggie tried to sound intelligent.

“That’s right. Your pa looks after everybody.”

“But why? Why does he care so much?” Maggie wondered aloud.

“I ’spect it has to do with what your pa is always saying. God was good to him, so he’ll just pass it on and be good to others.” Bill fell silent, and Maggie didn’t ask anything else.

The day passed quickly, and after several stops to rest and water the hors
es, the travelers were in the valley, making their way down the well-worn path which led to Piñon Canyon.

As they approached the first corral, several brown-skinned cowboys came riding up on horseback. They rode alongside Garrett talking in Spanish and laughing. Some fell back to greet the others and cast glances at Maggie. While she couldn’t understand what they said, their smiles and excitement led her to believe she’d passed inspection.

Maggie suddenly grew self-conscious about her appearance. She was wearing the same yellow dress she’d had on for days. She was freckled and sunburned, and her hair hung in a lifeless braid down her back. What would her father think?

Once again, Maggie began to fear her reunion with her father. What if Jason Intissar had love and kindness for everyone except his daughter? What if she still stirred painful memories of her mother? Maggie had been told by her grandmother that she resembled her mother more than ever. What if her father couldn’t deal with the haunting image?

In less than a heartbeat, the group halted at the huge stone walkway leading to the double doors of the ranch house. Maggie wanted to run. Her eyes darted around, and she gripped the side of the wagon. The muscles in her chest tightened, making normal breathing impossible.

Just then, Maggie caught Garrett’s sympathetic look. He winked at her as Bill helped her from the wagon. The ranch house doors opened, and Jason Intissar burst through.

“Magdelena! You’re really here! Oh, my Maggie, my daughter!” Maggie’s father embraced her tightly. She could feel his bony thinness.

Jason stepped back to eye his daughter. Maggie said nothing. The feelings she’d buried so long ago, feelings of an eight-year-old girl watching her father walk away, threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to say something, but her mouth refused to form the words.

“Oh, Maggie. It’s really me.” Jason laughed, hoping the assurance would help Maggie put aside her worried expression. “I’ve missed you so much! I can’t believe you’re finally here.” Jason took her hand and twirled her in a circle before him. Maggie felt her body mechanically respond, but her heart was too overwhelmed to allow rational thought.

“You’re more beautiful than your painting. Your mama would be proud. You look just like her. My, but how I miss her,
mi querida.”

“That phrase—what does it mean?” Maggie questioned.

Jason smiled and took hold of her hand, “Desired one, my daughter. Just as you are to me.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow, remembering Garrett’s use of the phrase but said nothing, noting the sadness in Jason’s eyes.

Garrett Lucas broke the spell. “Well, Jason, here she is. I knew it would be worth the effort, didn’t you?” Garrett’s words were both sincere and mocking. Maggie flashed fiery eyes at him, but Garrett’s lazy grin and laughing eyes were too much. She looked away.

“It was worth the effort and the wait. How do I thank you, my dear friend?” Jason exclaimed, turning to grab Garrett’s hand with his free one.

“You’ve already rewarded me by promising me your daughter in marriage,” Garrett said casually. He stared intently at Maggie until she could feel herself blush from head to toe.

“Garrett!” Jason cried. Garrett waved his concern away.

“She knows all about it. She’s even happy about it. She just doesn’t like the waiting,” Garrett said, pushing back the brim of his hat. Maggie fumed at the nonchalant way in which Garrett treated their betrothal.

“Is this true, Maggie?” Jason questioned. Maggie was touched by the deep concern in her father’s voice. She allowed her eyes to meet his. He was grayer than she’d remembered, and his shoulders seemed more stooped. He wasn’t an old man, but the sickness had taken its toll. And, try as she might, Maggie couldn’t find a reason to hate her father any longer.

“Maggie, is it true you’re willing to marry Garrett?” her father asked
pleadingly.

Maggie squared her shoulders and looked first to Garrett. He was actually enjoying this moment. He raised a mocking eyebrow as if to mimic her father’s question. Maggie let go of her father’s hand. She thought of denying it all, but when she saw the anguish in her father’s eyes, she couldn’t.

“Yes,” she whispered and turned her eyes to the smooth stone beneath her feet.

“Praise God!” her father exclaimed. “I had only hoped to dare that this marriage might take place. Oh, what happy news the two of you have brought me.”

Maggie felt defeated and tired. She wanted to get even with Garrett, but she didn’t have the energy to fight back.

The warmth of the noon sun was bearing down on them, and Jason motioned them to the house. “Come on. We need to get you out of this heat. I’ll bet you’d like a bath,” Jason said, taking hold of Maggie’s arm and leading her into the house.

Garrett had been right, as usual. She loved the interior of the ranch as much as she’d loved the outside. Her father had made it warm and cheery with vast amounts of Indian pottery and fresh flowers. Indian blankets woven from coarse wool in intricate and colorful patterns were hanging from the walls.

Jason began showing Maggie first one thing, then another. The dining
room was richly warm with wooden floors and dark cherry furniture. Heavy brocade draperies at the large windows blocked out the hot afternoon sun.

Maggie barely heard her father’s words as he explained the meaning behind different pieces of furniture. It was all she could do to comprehend that she was in her father’s house and Garrett was going to leave.

Finally, Maggie spoke. “Please, could I see it all later? I’m so tired.”

“Forgive me, of course. I’m just so anxious for you to feel at home here,” Jason said as he paused to embrace Maggie once again. “I love you, my little Maggie. Welcome home.”

Maggie felt strange going to bed in the middle of the day, but her father had explained that everyone took a siesta during the heat of the day. She found a bath drawn for her, and once she’d bathed and donned a soft cotton nightgown, she was shown to her bed by Carmalita, the young woman who was to be her maid.

Carmalita was young, perhaps twenty or so, Maggie judged. She was plump and very pretty. Maggie immediately liked her.

“We’ve looked forward to your arrival, Miss Magdelena.” Carmalita spoke perfect English, although her accent betrayed her Mexican heritage.

“Please, just call me Maggie and don’t be so formal. I find myself in need of new friends and hope to start with you,” Maggie said sincerely.

“I would be most honored to call you friend, Miss—Maggie.” Carmalita replied softly. There weren’t many women on the ranch, and Maggie was a welcomed change.

“Good. I will rely on you to teach me everything, but first I want to sleep,” Maggie yawned and laid back against the softness of down pillows.

“I will wake you for afternoon refreshments,” Carmalita replied gently as she closed the door behind her.

Maggie surveyed the room. It looked out of place with the rest of the house. The room was clearly designed with a woman’s tastes in mind. The walls were papered in a lavender rose print. Lavender shutters were closed tightly over a window. French doors with lavender ruffled curtains were set in an archway. Maggie wondered where the doors led, but weariness kept her from exploring.

Suddenly, she began to think of Garrett. Did he really mean to leave? And what of her father’s contentment as he’d bidden her pleasant dreams? He seemed so genuinely happy to have her home.

Home. Strange that one word should stir so many different feelings. Home had always meant Topeka, yet Maggie felt torn. Coming to this mountainous paradise had been like coming home. How did one explain such feelings?

Maggie shook off the worries of the past few weeks and closed her eyes. She fervently wished she could put Garrett’s smiling face from her mind, but it refused to leave. Exhausted, she gave up and slept, oblivious to the conversation taking place in her father’s study.

“Garrett, it’s so good to have you back,” a wearied Jason was exclaiming as he weakly lowered himself to a chair.

“Good to be back, although I wondered at times if we’d make it.”

“She was pretty ornery, was she?” Jason laughingly asked.

“She was everything you warned me of, and more. Did you know I had to pull her off a two-story trellis?” Garrett smiled as he remembered the scene and quickly joined Jason’s hearty laugh.

“I’m not kidding. Sophia had warned me that Maggie would make a run for it. I figured somebody looking as prim and proper as your daughter would sneak down the back stairs or hide in another room until she could slip out the front, but not Maggie. She hiked up her skirts, all those petticoats and such, and stepped as pretty as you please out her bedroom window and onto the trellis.”

Jason alternated between laughing and coughing.

“Maybe I should stop,” Garrett said, concerned about Jason’s condition. The older man’s health had rapidly deteriorated during Garrett’s absence.

“No, please. I want to know. I need to hear it all,” Jason said, the smile never leaving his face. “ ‘A merry heart doeth good like a medicine,’ the Scripture says. Now continue so my heart can have a good dosing.”

Garrett chuckled in spite of his concern. “Well, there she was, picking her way through the roses and lattice work, all the while yelling about the injustice of life. I wouldn’t have seen her up there, if I hadn’t heard her first. Quite a set of lungs on your daughter, Sir.”

Jason fairly howled at this. “Got it from her mother,” he gasped.

“I’m sure.” Garrett winked and continued. “Anyway, when she got close enough, I reached up and grabbed her.”

“She didn’t see you?” Jason coughed the words. He hadn’t enjoyed himself this much for years.

“No, Sir,” Garrett managed while holding his side and laughing. “She doesn’t see as much when her mouth is open.”

“At any rate,” Jason said, trying to compose himself. “You’re here. Through all the trials and Maggie’s stubbornness, you’ve managed to bring my daughter back to me. Thank you so much.”

“You know how I feel about it, Jason. I love your daughter more than ever.” Garrett’s declaration nearly moved Jason to tears.

“Strange how quickly a body can pass from hilarity into sober reflection,” Jason murmured thoughtfully. “I think I’ll follow my advice to Maggie and take a nap. This has taken a lot out of me.” Jason struggled to get to his feet, and Garrett offered him a steady hand.

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” Garrett agreed. “First though, I’ll see to you.”

Garrett helped Jason into bed and walked toward the bedroom door. That’s when it caught his eye. The life-sized portrait of Maggie hung in regal splendor across from Jason’s bed. Garrett paused to study the teasing smile and passionate blue eyes. He wanted to grow old with that smile. Turning to leave, Garrett couldn’t resist smiling back.