Chapter 4
4
Lucille Aldrich had always been a woman of determination. Even as a child she remembered overhearing her mother and grandmother talk about how out of all the children in the family, Lucille was the one who could be counted on to get a thing done.
“When she sets her mind to a notion ,” Grandmother Brewster had declared, “she sees the matter through to the completion.”
For Lucille, she figured it was a trait of being the youngest of eight and always last to the trough, as her father used to say. Her seven brothers and sisters were always ahead of her in getting their needs known, in having first pick, and in garnering the most attention. Lucille had always felt that if she didn’t see a matter through on her own, no one else was going to concern themselves with it.
Grandmother had once confided that she was the same way. “I know why you do what you do, Lucy. I, too, was the youngest child. But you must never be a person who fails to listen to reason and wise counsel. The Bible says that God would rather have our obedience than our sacrifice, so you must always heed that and do what is right.”
And she had made that a priority in her life. Seeking God’s will had been her first desire, and once she knew it for certain, then obedience became the goal. There were no halfhearted attempts at accomplishments. She was determined to do what God required of her, and often that meant doing what others commanded. Of course, she could also stubbornly stand her own ground when she knew something wasn’t wise or good. Lucille’s mother had always told her that a person couldn’t just say they believed in the Word of God—they had to prove it daily in their actions. Lucille had worked her hardest to be a living example of Jesus’s command to first love God with all your heart and soul and mind, and second to love others as yourself. It was one of the reasons she’d invited Micah Hamilton to join them for dinner. She’d been praying about what God would have her do to love others, and Micah constantly came to mind.
Now that he sat across from her, she knew why. He was a mere shadow of the man he’d once been. Despite Charlotte having cut his hair and shaved him, Micah looked nothing like the strong and healthy young man he’d been over a year ago.
Oh, Lord, I pray I didn’t wait too long to reach out to him.
“Micah, you need another helping of fried chicken.” She extended the platter, and Micah quickly took hold.
“Yes, ma’am. I won’t argue with you on that. I’ve been eating nothing but beans and corn bread for so long that chicken is like a heavenly feast. All of the food is truly delicious.”
“I’m glad you accepted our invitation,” Lucille countered.
Micah gave her a hint of a smile. “Well, it wasn’t exactly an invitation as much as a command.”
Lucille laughed and gave a little shrug. “I suppose it’s my motherly temperament. I’m used to bossing Charlotte around.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Mama is never bossy.” She handed Micah the biscuits. “Would you care for another of these? Nora’s biscuits are as light as any you’ll ever have. If you’re ever around for breakfast you can sample them with her sausage gravy. It’s absolutely divine.”
Lucille didn’t miss the way her daughter looked at Micah. She’d had feelings for Micah since she’d first met him. Charlotte was six years his junior, but even at the age of four, she had been completely captivated by him. Lucille could still remember her daughter following Micah and Frank Jr. around the ranch, begging them to take her with them. The boys had been tolerant for the most part. They often took time to include Charlotte in their work or games. Lucille had always rewarded them in one way or another for their kindness to Charlotte.
“I blame myself,” Lucille began again. “I should never have left you alone to waste away. I’m sure you haven’t eaten a decent meal since ...” She hated to bring up the death of his father. She let the matter drop and pushed on. “From now on, I want you to join us each evening for supper. Unless of course you have somewhere else you need to be.”
“I ... couldn’t let you do that. I don’t want to be a bother to anyone, and ... well, I don’t much feel like being company to anyone.” He barely met her eyes as he gazed up from his meal.
“I understand how you feel, but it’s been a year and three months, and we must endeavor to press forward.” She didn’t bother to detail what they were pressing forward from. Micah knew. They all did.
“Besides, we need your help, Micah.” This came from Charlotte. “I’ve already told you that Kit needs help. He doesn’t know what he’s doing most of the time. Last year, if it hadn’t been for Rich Johnson taking over the roundup, none of the calves would have been taken care of. This year we need you to help as well, and Kit desperately needs someone who knows what they’re doing to educate him. Mother and I feel confident that if we pool our resources and work together, we can finish off well this year. All of us.”
“I told you, no. I don’t want to teach Kit Hendricks anything. The man failed you when you needed him most. If he’d ridden out with us, then I could have stayed with my father and sent Kit back to get the wagon. And if he’d been any kind of a man, he would have made those cowhands go out looking for your men after they’d been gone an hour.”
“So you blame Kit for their deaths?” Lucille asked.
“I do. He could have done more. Should have done more.”
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Of course, Frank told him not to leave the ranch because Charlotte and I and Nora would be left alone. I always saw it as him obeying his boss’s orders. As well as mine. I asked him to stay put, and he did.”
Micah straightened and looked as though he might speak, then lowered his head and went back to eating.
“Micah, there are all sorts of things that might have been done differently. I don’t think Kit’s to blame, however. You might as well blame me.”
“You?” Micah’s head snapped back up. “You aren’t to blame.”
“I am as much as Kit is. I could have ordered him and the others to go looking for my guys sooner. Six hours was much too long to wait. I suppose I was hopeful they were waiting out the storm somewhere. They’d had similar experiences, and I knew they were capable. So if you must blame someone ... blame me.”
Micah shook his head. “I could never blame you. You paid the biggest price of us all.”
“It wasn’t a competition of loss, Micah.”
For several minutes they ate in silence while the words seemed to hang over them. Lucille was determined to help Micah let go of the guilt he held for himself.
“No matter what any of us might have done differently, I think the outcome would have been the same. We can assign blame or grace, Micah. I choose grace, and I’m not too proud to say, I especially assign it to myself.” She smiled. “In fact, I’m very generous in giving myself grace.”
“Again, I don’t see where you are to blame in any way. You and Charlotte had no way of knowing what had happened. You couldn’t very well mount horses and go look for the men.”
“And why not?” Lucille asked as if offended. “I could ride and track better than Kit and those boys who were here.”
Charlotte surprised her by giving a giggle. “Oh, Mama, a tree stump could have ridden and tracked better than they could.”
Lucille smiled. “I tend to agree with you. Micah, all I’m saying is I could have taken the dogs and gone in search. I could have forced those boys to go with me. There are so many things I could have done, and if I live my life thinking of those things, I will go down the same path you have.”
His expression betrayed momentary guilt, and he looked away before she could finish.
“But even sitting here at the same table we all used to share—seeing their empty chairs and knowing we’ll never have them here with us again...” His words faded into silence.
He was right. There were days when those empty chairs haunted her. Nights when her bed offered no comfort. The loss of her husband was almost more than she could bear at times, but there was no way to turn back time. Somehow, they all had to move forward.
“Micah, you must let go of regret. Our sorrow will be with us always, to some degree or another. In time, it will be less, but it will never go away altogether because we loved the men we lost. They were a very important part of our lives. You and Charlotte and I will always share this grief ... if we let one another. And I can tell you that sharing it is much better than trying to bear it alone.”
Micah said nothing for a moment. Lucille thought she saw a hint of the battle that must be raging inside of him reflected in his distant gaze.
Finally, he nodded and looked her in the eye. “I’ll go talk to Kit for you after we finish eating.”
Charlotte helped her mother gather the dishes after Micah left to go speak to Kit. She was so very grateful that Mama had been able to reach him. “I see why you asked Nora not to eat with us this evening. Micah probably wouldn’t have felt open enough to speak if she’d been here.”
“Yes, that was my thought.” Mama paused. “I know you care about him deeply.”
Mama’s words surprised her, but rather than shy away from them, Charlotte jumped right in. “I love him. I intend to marry him. I have since I was four years old.”
Mama nodded. “I know. But go slow, Charlotte. Be gentle. He’s still very wounded and needs time to heal.”
When Charlotte went in search of Micah nearly twenty minutes later, she was still thinking of what her mother had said. Charlotte had been so hard on him Saturday, and the guilt of that was overwhelming her conscience.
Micah was saddling Duke when she finally found him. He’d cleaned up to come see them, and although his clothes were a bit big on him, Charlotte thought he’d never been more handsome.
“Can you give me a minute before you go?”
Micah looked up from tightening the cinch. “Sure. What do you need?”
Charlotte leaned against the fence. “I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?”
She drew a deep breath. “I was rather hard on you when I came to see you the other day. I should have been kinder.”
Micah’s expression softened a bit. His blue eyes seemed to look into her soul, and Charlotte couldn’t help but feel all aflutter.
“You weren’t unkind. You were honest. I appreciate that more than I do kindness.”
“Still, I could have been gentler in the telling.” She couldn’t seem to fight the tears that came to her eyes. “It’s just been hard, and seeing you like that, knowing you were hurting like I was ... well ...” She sniffed back the tears and looked to the ground. “I guess it just stirred things up in me. Guilt and remorse.”
“Guilt about what ... Charlotte?”
Micah speaking her name so softly was her undoing. Charlotte buried her face in her hands and wept. She felt Micah’s arms go around her and pull her close. This she hadn’t expected, but it felt so right. She cried even more. How she longed for them to be together—to marry and have a family of their own—to bear all the problems of life as one.
Micah hadn’t anticipated Charlotte’s tears, nor his response to them. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from offering her comfort, and holding her felt like the right thing to do. He’d been doing this since she was a little girl. If Frank Jr. wasn’t around and she got hurt, it was Micah who tried to reassure her. Micah had always felt a special bond to that little girl.
But she wasn’t a little girl anymore. In fact, she was clearly a woman full grown, and the very thought of holding her was bringing to mind feelings that he’d just as soon ignore.
“Why do you feel guilty, Charlotte?” he whispered against her ear.
She didn’t look up or answer. She just kept crying, and Micah found the stone walls he’d put around his heart begin to crumble a bit. For all the years he’d known her, Charlotte was never one to go off in tears. She had never been a crybaby. In fact, short of her father’s funeral, Micah only seen her cry a handful of times. Even when she’d fallen off her horse as a little girl, she had squared her shoulders and gotten back on without tears.
He stroked her back, not knowing what else to do. Her long blond curls had been tied with a ribbon, and Micah found himself mesmerized by the way her hair entwined around his fingers. It was soft and curly. She’d always had curly hair. When she was little, she often left it down. What a mess it could be after the Wyoming wind gusted up. He remembered playing checkers with Frank Jr. and seeing Charlotte sitting in front of the fireplace while her mother worked to untangle the mass.
Without warning, she looked up and stepped back. “I’m so sorry, Micah. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that. It hasn’t been easy this last year.”
“No. No, it hasn’t.”
“Even just seeing you so thin and looking so sad ... Well, I’m sorry for the way I acted on Saturday and now. We need to treat each other gently, Mama said.”
“Like I told you, I’d rather you be honest with me.”
She nodded. “I know I can trust you with my heart. I can be honest with you, and you won’t betray me.”
Micah met her gaze. “Of course not. I’d never betray your trust. Now, tell me why you feel guilty.”
“Papa. I wasn’t kind to him that last day. We argued.”
“Argued about what?”
“His plans for me to marry Lewis Bradley.”
Micah had heard from Frank Jr. that his father intended for Charlotte to marry Lewis Bradley. Neither of them thought it was a good idea. Bradley wasn’t the kind of man either of them thought worthy of Charlotte. Frank Jr. had heard that he was dishonest in some of his business dealings, and Micah had never cared for the way Bradley treated those he considered beneath him.
“I told Papa I wouldn’t marry him—that I didn’t love him and never would. Papa wouldn’t listen to me. He said that I had to marry him—that it was important to him and that in time I would learn to love Lewis. But I knew better. I told him if he forced me to marry Lewis, I’d never speak to him again or have anything more to do with him.” Her eyes dampened again. “Those were my last words to him.
“Mama told me that Papa knew I loved him. I loved him so dearly. I hated to think of him dying and wondering if I would even care.”
“I agree with your mother. He knew the truth. I don’t know why a father would ever try to force his daughter to marry someone like Lewis Bradley, especially knowing you didn’t love him.”
“He said it was because he wanted a better life for me. He didn’t want me to be a rancher’s wife because he’d seen how hard that life was on Mama. But Mama loves the ranch. She loves the work she does here. Papa could never quite see that.”
“And what about you?”
Charlotte smiled. “I love it too. When Mama and Papa sent me to Denver, I was so lonely for it and all of you. They worked on me day and night to teach me to be a great lady, but all I wanted was to come home and ride Buck and help with roundup. I hated tea parties. I’d rather drink coffee than tea.”
Micah smiled. He could just imagine Charlotte all dressed up and serving tea. There was something about her comments, however, that made him look at her with different eyes. She had always been Frank Jr.’s little sister. Nothing more or less. Now, however, a grown woman stood in her shoes. A very beautiful grown woman. And a little bit ago, she’d been in his arms. He could still feel her there.
“Mama said that she believes Papa is with Jesus, and that Jesus has let him know that I love him. I pray that’s so. I like to think of Papa happy in eternity, not sad and upset because his only daughter rejected him.”
“At least you know he’s with Jesus,” Micah said, feeling an aching in his heart. He couldn’t very well confess to her his deepest fears regarding his own father. Some in the church were pretty clear about what they thought happened to folks who killed themselves.