The Rough Rider (38 page)

A Couple of Miracles

By the time Aaron reached the outskirts of New York, he was tired of driving the wagon. When he pulled up in front of the livery stable, he was glad to turn the rig over to the stable hand. As the three of them climbed into a carriage, he murmured, “We better go by your place first.”

Jeb had been very quiet on the last leg of the journey, and as the carriage rolled down the busy street, he looked out the window at all the people. “Sure is different from the woods,” he said. There was a poignancy in his face that spoke of the anxiety that stirred inside him.

Gail put her arm around him, saying, “It’ll be all right, Jeb. God won’t let us down. He never does.”

Aaron said little for some time, but just before they pulled up in front of the tenement, he said thoughtfully, “I guess most of the time we’ve got to struggle with something we can’t really handle. If it’s something we
can
take care of, we just fly at it and do the best we can.” He was caught up in a new way of looking at things that had come to him since he’d made his commitment to God. Already he’d discovered that old ways would not do—and now he mentioned it. “The big question in the Bible, it seems to me, is, how much do I let God do for me—and how much do I just do for myself?”

Gail studied Aaron’s face carefully, fascinated by how much he had changed in such a brief time. He’d always been so quick to throw himself into things, but now he was very conscious of the fact that as a Christian he was not free to do as
he chose. “I think all Christians struggle with that problem, Aaron,” she said finally. “But some things we don’t have to wonder about.”

“What kind of things?”

“Oh, the Bible says that he who fails to provide for his own is worse than an infidel—so we don’t have to struggle with the question, ‘Shall I work and make a living for my family or not?’ We’re not to sit around waiting for manna to fall, but do whatever we can to earn an honest living to take care of those we love.”

“That’s plain enough—but most things aren’t that simple,” Aaron nodded. “I
know
I’ve got to work—but work at
what?
I can find ten jobs, I guess—but which one of them is the one God wants me to have?”

“Sometimes God speaks to us pretty plainly—in our spirits, I mean.” Gail searched her memory and smiled as an example came to mind. “When I was offered a job at the hospital, I felt God whispering, ‘Take it!’ But since that was the only job I could get, that’s not what you mean.”

The carriage pulled up in front of the tenement, and they stepped down to the pavement. Aaron paid the fare, and they entered the rundown building and climbed the steps. When they opened the door, Martha Lawson took one look at them and instantly threw her arms around Jeb. Aaron and Gail stood quietly watching, and it was Jeb who told his mother, “I’ve got to go to the police, Ma.” His face was pale, but he didn’t waver in the least.

Finally after Gail explained the situation to her mother, the older woman nodded. “It’s got to be—but I’m afraid for him. . . .”

“Aw, Ma, I’ll be all right,” Jeb piped up. He looked up at Aaron and found confidence in what he saw. “Aaron’s gonna do what he can—and even if I do have to go to reform school, he’s promised to come to visit me as much as he can.”

Their visit was brief, for both Aaron and Gail were aware that there was a possibility of Jeb being picked up by the
police. “It’s better if he goes in voluntarily,” Aaron assured Mrs. Lawson. “I’m going to get him a good lawyer, and with God’s help, I’m believing he can get off without going to reform school.”

They left the building and made their way to Mark Winslow’s office. When they gave their names to the secretary in his outer office, the man stepped inside the door behind his desk, but it was only a few seconds before Mark appeared, relief on his face. “Come in,” he said, pulling them inside. As soon as the door was shut, he demanded, “Where have you been, Aaron? Lola and I have been worried sick! Not to mention how upset your parents have been.”

Aaron glanced at Jeb, then said, “I’ve been helping a friend, Uncle Mark. This is Jeb Summers, Gail’s brother—and he’s in trouble. I thought you might be able to help us.”

Mark shot a glance at Gail—noting the pale face and the marks of strain—then stepped forward and shook hands with Jeb. “Well, now, suppose we sit down and see what this is all about.” He listened as Aaron explained the problem, then said at once, “I know a man who we need to get on our side—a lawyer named Simon Carwell.” A slight smile crossed his lips, and he added, “He’s a pretty tough bird, Carwell, but he hates to lose more than any man I ever saw!” He put his hand on Jeb’s shoulder gently, saying, “I’m sorry about the trouble you’re in—but we’ll do what we can—and we’ll believe God to do what we can’t.”

“Why, that’s what Gail and I were talking about on our way here, Uncle Mark!” said Aaron.

Getting up to go to the telephone, Mark nodded. “Been a rule of mine for a long time—and God hasn’t failed me yet.” He rang for an operator, who connected Mark to the lawyer. He spoke briefly to Carwell, setting a time for a meeting, then hung up the telephone receiver. “Come on, we’ve got to get you home,” he announced.

“But—aren’t we going to the police?” Aaron asked.

“Not until we’ve seen Carwell. And I’ve got to take you
home. Lewis and Lola would have my hide if I didn’t do that!” He looked at Jeb and asked, “Have you ridden on a train much, Jeb?”

“Ain’t never ridden on even one.”

Mark winked at him confidentially, saying, “How’d you like to ride in the engine—maybe even drive it for a little bit? I think I could arrange it.”

Jeb could not have been more amazed if the tall man had asked him to go to the moon. “Aw, you couldn’t do that, could you?”

“Think I can.”

“Gee, you must be a pretty important man!”

Mark Winslow came over and slapped Jeb on the shoulder, smiling at the boy. “We’re all important, Jeb,” he said. “I know you’re worried, but years ago I was sitting in a Mexican jail about to go to prison for a long time. I tell you, I was a pretty sick young man! Scared, too.”

Jeb’s eyes were large and he asked, “Did you go to prison?”

“Nope.”

“How’d you get out of it?”

Mark winked at Aaron and Gail, then looked down at Jeb before saying thoughtfully, “Why, God sent an angel to get me out.”

Jeb stared at him incredulously. “Aw, Mr. Winslow, you’re jokin’ me!”

“Not a bit, Jeb.” Mark thought of that time and said slowly, “The angel’s name was Lola—and as soon as we get home, I’ll introduce you to her. I married her, you see—but I always had a suspicion that she was sent from God to get me out of jail.”

“I wish He’d send an angel to get me out of this jam,” Jeb sighed. Then he asked, “Can I really ride in the engine?”

“What’s the use of being a big shot railroad executive if I can’t get my friend behind a throttle?” Mark said. “Come on, we’ll catch the two twenty. . . .”

Jeb only half believed that Winslow was serious, but when they got to the station, Mark led them straight to where the
train was pulled up to take on passengers. “These folks are guests of the Union Pacific, Charlie,” he told the conductor. “Take good care of them.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Winslow!”

“Have a good ride,” Mark said to Gail and Aaron. “Jeb and I will take care of the engine.” He moved down toward the engine and spoke to a big man in overalls and a billed cap who was oiling one of the large wheels. “Got room for a couple of passengers, Ted?”

The engineer grinned broadly and nodded at once. “Sure, Mr. Winslow. Who’s this with you?”

“A very special friend of mine. Jeb, this is the best engineer on the Union, Ted Rounds. And this is Jeb Summers.”

“Well, Jeb, you must have been named after General Jeb Stuart.”

“Yes, sir. My grandfather was in his army.”

“So was mine, Jeb,” Rounds grinned. “Now, you come along with me, and we’ll get this train on the way. We’ve got a schedule to keep.” Mark winked, and the engineer knew that Winslow wanted the boy to have a memorable time, so when they were inside, he spent some time pointing out the controls and gauges. Finally he said, “See that cord? That blows the whistle. Got to do quite a bit of that on this run—lots of crossings.” He winked at Mark Winslow over Jeb’s head, adding, “Tell you what, Jeb—I stay pretty busy with other things, so you’re in charge of that whistle on this run.”

“Gosh, I don’t know—”

“Oh, just reach up and yank that cord when I holler at you,” Rounds assured him. Pulling out a thick watch, he cocked one eyebrow and said, “Time to pull out—give that cord a good hard yank, will you, Jeb?”

Jeb glanced at Winslow, who gave him a nod. Reaching up he grasped the cord and pulled it firmly. The shrill blast of the whistle rent the air, and Rounds laughed and slapped Jeb on the shoulder. “You’re going to do just fine! Now, let’s get this old train moving. . ..”

Aaron and Gail found seats, and soon the train had pulled clear of the city. As the open country seemed to fly by, Gail said, “Your uncle is so kind, Aaron. He makes me feel . . . well . . .
safe
is the word that comes to me.”

Aaron took his eyes from the small farms that spread out over the rolling landscape and gave her his attention. “He’s a fine man. Dad thinks the world of him.”

“Do you think this lawyer friend of his can help Jeb?”

“I guess I’m thinking of what Uncle Mark said about it. How did he put it? Do all you can, then leave it with God to do all He can.” Right then the thought of Lewis, helpless and tied to a wheelchair, filled his mind. “I think we need a couple of miracles, Gail—one for Jeb and one for Lewis.”

“You’ve never really believed that Lewis would be healed, have you, Aaron?”

“No, I haven’t.” The conductor passed by, taking tickets and punching them. He smiled down at the pair, then passed on. Aaron looked down at his hands that were clasped together. “I guess I’ve always thought that the miracles in the Bibles were for that time—not for people today. My parents don’t believe that. They always said that God is the same yesterday and today and forever.”

“It’s hard to believe something when your eyes are telling you it’s not so,” Gail murmured. “Do you know the story of Abraham and Isaac? I’ve thought about that so much lately.”

“Read it to me.”

“You mean—now?” Gail said, surprised at his request.

“Why not?”

Gail laughed shortly, but pulled the Bible from her bag. She opened it and, finding the scripture, read the story of the patriarch. She began in the fifteenth chapter, reading the promise of God: “Fear not, Abram; I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward.” Then she read of Abram’s plea to God for a child, and looking up at Aaron, she said with awe, “And Abram was eighty-five years old when he asked God for a son!”

“What did God say?”

Gail looked down and read slowly: “ . . . he that shall come forth out of thine own loins shall be thine heir. And he brought him forth abroad, and said, Look toward heaven, and tell the stars, if thou be able to number them: and he said unto him, So shall thy seed be.” She paused, then nodded as she read the next verse: “And he believed in the Lord; and he counted it to him for righteousness.”

“Now that’s real faith!” Aaron nodded. “Not much a man can do in a case like that except believe God—but most of us wouldn’t.”

“No, and nothing happened for fifteen years.” Gail’s eyes were filled with wonder as she looked at him. “Can you imagine what that must have been like? God didn’t give him a thing for all those years, and finally he was ninety-nine years old, but he still believed God’s promise!”

“Didn’t some angels come to Abram and Sarah about that time?”

“Yes, and when Sarah heard one of them say that she would have a child, she laughed.”

“I can understand that!”

“I suppose I can, too. But the angel rebuked her. And I’ve written what he said in the front of my Bible. I read it every morning—and I’ve been whispering it in my heart ever since Jeb got into trouble.”

“Let me see—” Mark looked down at the words written in Gail’s plain script, reading them aloud, “Is there any thing too hard for God?” He sat back and smiled slightly. “That’s a good thought—that nothing that comes to us is too hard for God. And Abraham did have that son, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did.” Gail found a verse and read, “And Abraham was an hundred years old, when his son Isaac was born unto him.”

They sat there feeling the rhythm of the steel wheels as the train sped along the rails. From time to time the whistle loosed a shrill clarion blast, and the landscape seemed to blur
as it flew by the window. Finally Aaron said, “Well, then, I’ll claim that verse with you for the two miracles we need.”

A warmth flowed through Gail, and without thinking she reached over and took Aaron’s hand, whispering, “All right—that’ll be our verse.” His hand was strong as he returned the handclasp, and she was aware that God had
already
done a mighty miracle in the heart of Aaron Winslow!

****

“You’ll make a fine railroad man, Jeb,” Ted Rounds grinned as he shook hands with the boy. “You make Mr. Winslow here give you a job firing up this engine for me, you hear?”

“I’d like that, Mr. Rounds!” said Jeb, his face aglow with a huge smile.

Mark winked at Rounds, saying, “You have all the fun with this railroad—and I have all the headaches! Thanks for the ride, Ted.” He turned and said, “Come along, Jeb. I want you to meet the angel that changed my life.” He collected Aaron and Gail from the passenger car, and soon the four of them were speeding along in a carriage at a fast clip behind a fine team. He kept up a running conversation, and when he pulled the horses up in front of the house, he said, “Always glad to get home! Everybody out—look, there’s Lola.”

Jeb was shy, but when Winslow introduced his wife, he saw there was a kind expression in her eyes. “Come in, Jeb,” she smiled. Then she looked at the couple standing back, saying, “You two gave us a scare. I want to hear all about it.”

They entered the house, and Aaron was immediately embraced by his parents. “Mother—Dad—I’m sorry I worried you so much.”