Leather and Lace (18 page)

“God doesn’t see sin in degrees,” Sarah said.

Casey shook her head. “How could my sins not be worse than someone who has no idea about life with an outlaw gang?” She resumed her position in the rocker. The pain and suffering of those years apart from God took form in the agony ripping at her heart.

“Perhaps I can explain it to you in a different way,” Sarah said. “Do you recall seeing animal tracks in the snow?”

She nodded, wondering what Sarah was about to say.

“Birds make tiny tracks and small animals make bigger ones. Larger animals leave their prints in the snow. Then along comes a man in his wagon that leaves huge wheel tracks. So the perfect blanket of snow becomes covered with all types of imperfections. When spring arrives and thaws the ground, all the tracks are melted away. That is what Jesus did when He died for our sins—not just for some sins but for every single one of them.”

No longer could Casey contain the sobs, and she buried her face in her hands. All of this time, she had read of God’s endless love and mercy, but not until this moment did she fully understand. He had forgiven her. The realization rang through her head—wonderful, startling, and incredibly freeing. She sucked in a breath. “How do I rid myself of this horrible guilt?”

“Just ask God,” Sarah said. “The guilt you feel is not from Him, so give Him those feelings.”

“But I need to settle up with the law.”

“Indeed you do, but I know God will help you. Have you considered having Morgan work in your behalf?”

“He wants to, but I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“I can tell he loves you. I imagine the thought of Jenkins after you must drive him nearly mad. That dear man.”

Sarah knows what Morgan will not tell me. “Thank you so much. You have no idea what your words mean to me. Every Sunday, my thoughts wrestle with avoiding Sheriff Kahler and worshiping God. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go to my room for a little while.”

“Go right ahead. I think it’s time for me to rest, too.”

Casey stroked the older woman’s face. “I love you, Sarah.” The woman’s words were engraved forever in her heart. Life didn’t promise any reprieve from Jenkins or the law, but she was free of the guilt. Without a doubt she must pursue a lawyer and face what a judge and jury decided. Her deeds would be reckoned with, and her life finally put at rest.

The next day, Casey approached the reverend. She found him in his study, preparing Sunday’s sermon. As she sat across from his massive desk, she found it difficult to begin. He’d been gracious enough to give her employment and a place to live. At last she spilled out the words like a waterfall tumbling over rock.

“Don’t you remember telling me if I ever had any questions I should simply ask?” he said.

The birds sang outside the open window, and the delicate fragrance of roses scented the air. “Yes, sir, but I deliberately lied to a man of God.”

“Don’t you think I suspected something amiss when you rode in here that first day?” He eased back in his chair. “When we stood by the well and shared the cool water, God spoke to me. He told me you were the one to nurse Sarah. I’ve never regretted it. You’ve made peace with God, and I am happy for you. Sarah and I love you, and we will support you as you strive to make things right with the law.”

“I don’t deserve your goodness, and I thank God for putting you and Sarah in my life.”

“Let’s pray together for God’s guidance.” The reverend held her hand and prayed while Casey listened. The tears slipped from her eyes, cleansing drops of thankfulness to the One who sustained her. “Heavenly Father, thank You for drawing us all closer to You in times of distress. Thank You for bringing this precious young woman here so we could help her through these difficult circumstances. Guard her safely, Lord, and show us Your will in all things.”

No matter what, Lord, help me to tell Morgan’s family.

Morgan swung his ax through the top of the log and split it deftly in two, then tossed it to the side with the others. Keep this up, and he’d have enough firewood for the next year. Sweat poured from his face and into his eyes like a stinging waterfall. The muscles in his shoulders ached not so much from the work but from the speed with which he lifted the ax and sank it into one piece of wood after another.

Strenuous work was an old habit when he needed to hash out whatever had crawled under his skin. He stopped long enough to wipe the sweat off his face onto his shirt sleeve. Nothing was working today. He’d ridden long before dawn, helped Grant move a hundred head of cattle, and now the wood. With sunset dimming his light, he should have had a few ideas about how to mend his relationship with Casey. But he was fresh out. Accusing her of missing outlaw days had been cruel. He even knew it at the time, yet he didn’t have enough sense to shut his mouth.

God, why didn’t You stop me? I ruined what I craved the most—to start life fresh with Casey. I thought You and I had made our peace that day in church. Seems like every time things are going good, I set out to ruin them again. Guess I deserve whatever happens.

He picked up the ax and slammed it into another log. Splinters flew in all directions. His mood reminded him of those years gone by, and he despised the thought. Casey didn’t understand his moods, and he didn’t have the guts to tell her.

You know what you have to do.

Morgan recognized the voice, although the commands he’d heard all day set like a bad fever. There had to be a better way to explain his vendetta with Jenkins than the truth.

And where has not telling her got you?

He glared up at the sky beginning to fade from gold and orange to bluish black. Clouds covered the heavens with only a sliver of the moon blurring through, indicative of his faint hope of ever calling Casey his own.

I can’t do it to her.

Who are you trying to protect, Casey or yourself?

The words echoed against the fast-approaching night. He told himself the sounds he heard were really insects calling out to each other and not God pressing him to tell Casey the whole story. She’d run so far he’d never find her. He released a labored sigh. She might do it anyway. No guarantee with Casey. She was a hard woman to read.

“Son, don’t let it eat you alive.”

He swung around to see his mother. In the faint light, he saw her shadow. A wistful wind blew at her apron. “I’m doing the best I can.” He turned back to the wood and leveled another piece.

“I see a bit of the old Morgan, and I don’t like it at all.”

He lifted his head, unable to look at her. “This time I’m talking to God about it.”

“Shawne loves you, and you love her. I pray God makes a way.”

“If I haven’t destroyed it.”

“I don’t know what has happened between you two, but I wonder if your stubbornness is the root of the problem. Are you going to punish yourself forever?”

He picked up the ax and raised it over his head. “Maybe it’s what I deserve.”

“Morgan.”

The harsh sound of her voice caused him to lower the ax and face her.

“Self-pity never solved a thing. It makes you weak and mean.”

“I’ll think on it some more.”

“For sure, Morgan, God understands what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

“But what if it happens twice?”

“Shawne doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who’d run from bad news.”

*****

In the days ahead, Casey considered how she’d tell the Andrews family about her past, but she couldn’t bring herself to confess the truth. When she finally collected her courage, either the time wasn’t right, or someone was missing.

She saw Morgan at church, and they talked when she visited his family on Sundays, but she refused to let him get close. His words were forgiven, but the damage had been done. Everywhere she looked, a remembrance of him rattled her senses, surfacing when she least expected it.

She’d wake in the middle of the night with his turquoise eyes burning into the blackness. Treasured memories and cherished words flooded the darkness surrounding her, but his black moods reminded her of ruthless men. She forced herself to consider the likelihood of his not changing. Love was a powerful emotion, but it couldn’t alter a man’s personality unless he truly wanted to change. He claimed God now guided his life, but not every part of it. Casey knew it best to forget him. Time and again, she gave the matter to God only to pull it back. Maybe she and Morgan were too much alike.

During this time, Reverend Rainer wrote a doctor in Dallas, requesting a visit to examine Sarah, but it would be weeks before the man could leave his practice. In the meantime, the local doctor prescribed laudanum to ease her pain.

True to Sarah’s initial accounting, Casey cared for Sarah as if she were a child. She bathed her, dressed her, combed her hair, and rocked her when the pain seemed unbearable. Some days, Sarah cried for her husband, who watched her suffer helplessly. In those moments Casey wept with her. She saw a steadfast love and commitment in the couple soaring beyond her own comprehension of what true love meant between a man and a woman.

At times, the couple lovingly teased each other and acted as though the illness didn’t exist. But when the two separated, telltale agony clouded their eyes. Casey questioned the fairness of God in allowing two good people who loved and honored Him to experience such anguish.

“Reverend Rainer, why does God permit Sarah to hurt so?” she said one evening at supper. The day had proved exhausting for all of them, especially Sarah, who had sunk her teeth into her lower lip until it bled to keep from crying out.

“He doesn’t want any of us to suffer.” The reverend pushed aside his full plate. “This present life is difficult to understand, and surely none of us know the mind of God. He permits adversity for a reason, and God will use this for good.” He sighed. “Sarah’s illness seems so wrong, but her pain does bring blessings to others. Think about all the ladies who visit and bring gifts. If she were well, they would be denied the joy of giving. They share from their hearts, and God honors their love. Sarah prays with each one and allows them the opportunity to voice their own trials and prayer requests. God is using her to reach and teach others.”

Casey chose not to respond until she carefully weighed the reverend’s words. “Are you saying Sarah should be happy with her illness?”

“Not happy, but her heart is filled with the joy of the Lord. And folks remember the good she did for them. I need strength from God to keep me from becoming bitter and angry. I want my wife to be the woman of her youth, but God has a different plan—and it’s a struggle.”

“Surely not you?”

“I’m a man who loves his wife and isn’t ready for her to be taken from him. But in all of my soul-searching and in all of my Scripture reading, I’m certain of one thing: I must accept God’s will for her life and mine.” He smiled. “This is probably none of my concern, but I’m going to say it anyway. Don’t give up on Morgan. He has a posse of devils chasing him every minute of the day.”

She blinked. “He won’t tell me what happened.”

“Patience, dear. Have patience. I know you care for him as surely as I see he cares for you.”

“Are you asking me to give him another chance? Reverend, some of the things he says are hurtful.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s been where no man should ever walk. Much like you, I imagine.”

*****

On October 1, the Rainers’ daughter and son-in-law arrived with their family for a month-long visit. The daughter wanted to tend to her mother. She didn’t resent Casey’s nursing, but she realized her mother’s days were limited.

“Come stay with us,” Jocelyn said to Casey. “Morgan can move into the cabin or bunkhouse, and you can have his room.”

Casey hesitated. She still hadn’t told them the truth. “I don’t feel comfortable chasing Morgan out of his bed.”

“Nonsense,” Jocelyn said. “He’ll be delighted that you’re here.” In the end, Jocelyn won out. She and Bonnie wasted no time in visiting the parsonage and whisking Casey away to the Double H for the month. If the reverend felt it was important for her not to give up on Morgan, then she needed to honor his request. A month at the ranch would give them an opportunity to talk—really talk.

As soon as Jocelyn and Bonnie helped her settle into the assigned bedroom, Casey took a glimpse out of the window. Strange, being in Morgan’s room. How did he feel about it?

“Grant and Morgan are busy branding cattle,” Bonnie said, as though reading her thoughts.

“So they don’t know I’m coming?” she said.

Bonnie laughed, that glorious infectious sound that always made Casey smile. “Oh yes. We told them before we left. Morgan acted strange. Are you two having another spat?”

“I’m not so sure that’s a question you should be asking Shawne,” Jocelyn said.

How do I answer this? “I don’t mind.” Casey offered a faint smile. “Maybe he and I will have time to mend our differences. Time has a way of making the past not so important.”

“I hope so. The idea of you and me someday being sisters sounds wonderful.”

But you have no idea who I am. “Only God knows what He can do with two stubborn people like your brother and me.” Casey adored Bonnie, her treasured friend who’d never known the ugliness that could strip a heart and mind of all hope and goodness.

“Let me save Shawne from any other unnecessary questions here.” Jocelyn nodded at Bonnie. “How is Sarah really doing?”

She deliberated her response. She wanted to sound optimistic despite Sarah’s failing health. “Her spirits are good, especially with her family here to visit.”

“Every time I ask the reverend about her, he says ‘much better’ and thanks me for asking. She doesn’t seem to be getting any better,” Jocelyn said.

“I do hope the doctor from Dallas comes soon. The reverend hopes he may have more knowledge about her condition than Kahlerville’s doctor.”

Bonnie sighed. “I wonder why God lets terrible things happen to such good people?”

“Many folks have asked the same question. I suppose that’s something we’ll have to ask the Lord one day,” Jocelyn said.

Bonnie frowned. “Life can be so hard. Makes me wonder if you believe in God and care for other people, then you’re certain to die a painful death. If that’s true, then it would be better to live an outlaw’s life.”

Casey felt her knees weaken and the familiar sick churning in the pit of her stomach. Shame and the lies she’d told hung over her like a storm-filled cloud. She had no right not telling them the truth.

*****

“I thought you were courtin’ Shawne?” Grant said to Morgan the afternoon following Casey’s arrival. They stood by the corral while Jesse and some of the other ranch hands worked on breaking horses.

Morgan winced as Jesse fell from the horse—the third time since he’d decided to take on a high-spirited mare.

“Did I hit a sore subject?” Grant said.

More than you know. Morgan motioned toward Jesse. “I was watching that mare toss Jesse again. In answer to your question, things could be better.”

“Thought so. I talk to her more than you do lately.”

Morgan tossed his brother a sideways glance. It was obvious Grant more than liked Casey, and the idea of his younger brother falling for her needled him worse than a bee sting. “She’s a little older than you.”

“Not by much, and besides, she’s your girl, not mine.” Grant kept his eyes on Jesse, who’d dusted himself off and was ready to mount the mare again. “Does she know?”

“What do you think?” Morgan’s reply snapped a little harder than he intended.

“Thought so.” Grant kept his attention on Jesse and the mare. “Don’t chase her away. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Those words repeated in Morgan’s mind until he had to do something about them. “I’ll tell her after I get back from taking Mama to town.”

Grant nodded. Strange how a seventeen-year-old perceived so much. But he was right. The ache and the longing inside kept Morgan awake at night and surly during the day.

He couldn’t blame Casey. His pledge to the Lord looked like pig slop, and it seemed his love for her bordered on conditional—when he felt like being generous. He hadn’t always been this way. The past four years had changed him, and he didn’t know if he’d ever be a good man again. He needed God’s help for every breath he took.