A Constant Love (The Hope of Cheyenne #1)

Chapter 7

7

Leaving Kit grumbling under his breath, Micah made his way out to where he’d left Duke grazing. He saddled the gelding and led him toward the house and the road that would take them home. At the sound of a horse coming up the drive, Micah raised the brim of his hat just a bit to identify the rider. Rich Johnson. Micah hadn’t seen him in some time and knew he’d be expected to stop and visit.

“Mr. Johnson,” Micah said, giving a nod.

“Micah Hamilton, as I live and breathe. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Rich jumped off the back of his horse as if he were a man Micah’s age and quickly crossed the distance.

He surprised Micah by embracing him with a bear hug. “You look good, Micah.”

“You too, Mr. Johnson.”

“I think you’re old enough to just call me Rich.” The older man pulled away and shook his head. “I know that Southern upbringing of yours says otherwise, but this is the Wyoming Territory, and I insist.”

“All right, then ... Rich.” Micah smiled, almost against his will. It was good to be among friends again.

“Are we going to have your help with the roundup?” Rich asked.

“Yes. I promised Mrs. Aldrich, and I just had a talk with Hendricks.”

Rich shook his head and glanced heavenward. “That boy needs more training than I can give. He just doesn’t seem to understand the job, and yet he’s been at it for over two years now.”

“I know.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ll be with us. I can count on you to know one end of a calf from the other.”

Micah remembered just then that Rich’s wife had died the previous December. “I was sorry to hear about Mrs. Johnson’s passing.”

Rich nodded. “It’s been hard. That house seemed to double in size without her there. Some days I start to call for her, even now.” His weathered face wrinkled a bit more. “Wish it would have been me if one of us had to go, but then I realize it would have left Betsy to fend for herself. I wouldn’t have wanted that for her, especially now that I know what that feels like.”

“I’m sorry for not coming by. I’ve been a terrible excuse for a human being, much less a neighbor.”

“You’ve had your share of difficulties, and I’m not one to judge.” The older man stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I should have been better myself and come to see you. But with the cleanup and then Betsy’s heart giving out ... well, I just wasn’t much of a friend. Got kind of caught up in my own sorrows.”

“That’s understandable. The disposal of dead cattle was enough all on its own. Place stunk to high heavens for the longest time.”

“That’s a fact. Well, hopefully we can move forward now. I had a good calving this spring and bought some new heif ers to breed. We’ll get back on top before you know it. What plans do you have for the future, Micah?”

Micah looked at the ground and kicked a rock to one side. “I don’t know for sure. I had thought about selling out and going West, but with my folks buried on the ranch, it’s hard to move away and even harder to sell off the place.”

“It’s hard for folks like us to walk away. Besides, this is your home. You have good friends and folks who care about you. I think you just need to start rebuilding that herd.”

“Mrs. Aldrich and Charlotte took what cows I had left,” Micah said, trying not to feel guilty for the extra work he’d put on them. “I don’t really have a herd to start rebuilding.”

“Lucille has said more than once that she’s just overseeing them until you’re ready to take back the responsibility.” Rich fixed him with a sobered gaze. “Micah, I know your pa would be upset to find you doing nothing but pining for him. I’ve thought a lot about coming out to speak to you, but wasn’t sure it was my business. Never was one to stick my nose in where it didn’t belong. But you’re like kin.”

“I understand, Mr. ... Rich.”

The older man met his gaze. “It was hard losing out in that terrible winter, but you’ve wasted too much time already. You need to stop mourning what’s gone and move forward. Rebuild your herd and make the Hamilton ranch great again. Lot of folks sold out and gave up, but that isn’t how your pa raised you.”

“No, sir, he didn’t.” Micah couldn’t argue; the man was right. Still, it was hard to reconcile the grief and anger he felt. “But I have a hard time figuring out how to move forward.”

Rich nodded. “Don’t I know how that goes. It ain’t easy no matter how you look at it. We lost the cattle, and then the people we loved. There’s nothing simple or easy about handling that. But the way I see it, you have to put one foot in front of the other and make yourself go forward. Standing still or going backward accomplishes nothing.”

But do I really need to accomplish something? Micah couldn’t help but wrestle with that thought. Why did it matter if he moved forward or stayed put in one spot?

“Get back in church, Micah. That’s the best place to start. I wanted to quit church altogether when Betsy died. It was winter, and I figured the perfect excuse, but something just wouldn’t let me hide myself away. You’ve been hiding for well over a year now. I think it’s time, don’t you?”

Micah couldn’t argue, but he was so terribly disappointed with God. “I haven’t exactly been on good terms with the Almighty, if I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t understand why He allowed things to happen as they did. God’s all-powerful, so why did He allow such suffering and loss to fall on our shoulders? What did we do to deserve that?”

Rich shrugged. “Who can know the mind of the Almighty? I suppose the best we can do is to search the Scriptures and read how He handled things long ago, but that still won’t tell us everything we want to know about what we went through. Sometimes a man’s just got to have faith and trust in the Lord no matter what’s going on around him.”

Micah wanted to say something about his father but knew it was too dangerous. Rich didn’t know about the suicide, and Micah didn’t want to get caught up in his anger and accidentally share that bit of history.

Rich reached out and touched Micah’s shoulder. “God hasn’t left you, Micah. He doesn’t operate that way. He’s a good Father, even when we don’t understand what He’s allowed or is doing in our life. Get back to church, and if you aren’t praying and reading the Word ... you should be.”

“Hello, Rich!” Mrs. Aldrich called out as she crossed the yard. Mack was soon at her heel. “I wondered when you might get here. Go on inside and have some lemonade and cake. Charlotte will take good care of you. I’ll be there shortly. Just need to make sure the hens are in for the night.”

“Sure thing, Lucille.” Rich looked at Micah and smiled. “I’ll see you later. Come by sometime.”

“I’ll do what I can. If not, I’ll be here for roundup.”

With that, Rich led his horse to the hitching post and tied him off before heading up to the front door.

“You might want to stick around,” Mrs. Aldrich said, coming to where Micah stood. “Rich is going to tell us about the stock growers meeting.”

“That’s all right. I think I’ll just head home before it gets dark. I have some chores to take care of.”

Mack pushed himself up against his mistress, determined to get her attention. “Mack, go lay down.” The collie looked up at her for a moment and then headed off toward the house. “I don’t need him scaring the chickens.”

Micah nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait. Micah, I wanted to talk to you a minute.”

“Sure thing. What is it?” He could see nothing but compassion in her gaze.

“First, I want to apologize. I failed you miserably. I should never have left you to mourn on your own for so long. I was caught up in my own sorrow and loss, but I knew you needed me. I feel terrible for not having been there for you.”

Micah was humbled by her words. “You owed me nothing.”

“That’s not true. I owed you human kindness if nothing else. More so, I owed you all that I had promised your mama. I swore I’d look after you and be there for you, Micah. I didn’t honor that promise, but I intend to now. When I saw you for the first time in so very long, I felt as if you helped to fill an empty place in my heart. Losing Frank was hard enough, but losing my son as well ... it almost killed me. You anticipate that you might well lose your spouse, but you never in a million years think you’ll be burying your child.”

“I’m sure you’re right. I know my ma grieved losing my brothers until the day she died.”

Mrs. Aldrich’s eyes filled with tears. “You never ever get over it. It’s a deep hurt that never quite heals. Even with all of God’s comfort and kindness—of which I need every day to get by—it still lingers.” She fell silent.

Micah tried to think of something he could say. But what could he offer? He wasn’t a parent. He hadn’t lost a child. Anything he said would be spoken out of sympathy, but not any true understanding.

Mrs. Aldrich put her hand on Micah’s arm. “I hope this doesn’t sound selfish, but I need you, Micah. I think we need each other. You’re the closest thing to a son that I have now. And I’m the closest thing to a mother that you have. Let’s help each other ... please.”

It was impossible to look away from her teary blue eyes. Micah nodded and put his hand over hers. “I’ll always be here for you.” What else could he say? It imposed on his desire to have very little to do with anyone. But how could he refuse her? When he looked in her eyes, he saw his own pain reflected back.

She smiled. “Thank you, Micah. I feel like I can start to move forward now. I didn’t realize what was missing before. Charlotte and I had each other, but you’d be surprised how much we kept to ourselves.” She squared her shoulders. “I know you’re hurting. I know you’re asking yourself every day, why?”

“There are a lot of why questions that I ask,” he admitted. “Why did my father kill himself is right at the top. I can’t begin to understand that. Sure, he’d lost a lot of animals, and then he’d come face to face with the loss of his best friend, but I lost my best friend too. As sad as I was, it didn’t make me want to take my life. Sometimes that makes me wonder, didn’t I care about Frank Jr. as much as Dad cared about Mr. Aldrich? It’s a complicated sort of guilt that haunts me.”

“Oh, Micah, I am sorry. Of course you loved as deeply as your father loved. What your father did in taking his life was no doubt far more complex than either of us will ever understand. I believe, however, that something broke apart in your father. Something he couldn’t control. It was just too much for him to handle.”

“But I thought God never gave us anything more than we could handle.”

“The Bible doesn’t say that, Micah. There is a passage that talks about temptations and God always giving us a way out, but we face things every day that we can’t handle. Why would we need God if we could handle it all on our own?”

“I suppose that makes sense. But Dad knew God. Knew Him well and yet it wasn’t enough.”

“Again, Micah, it’s impossible for us to know. But what I do know is that God is good and just and faithful, even when we aren’t. Whatever happened in that moment that led your father to take his own life, God didn’t leave him to face it alone. He was there, Micah.”

“Yeah, and He didn’t stop it. That’s what I don’t understand. God didn’t stop my father from taking his life, but He could have.”

Mrs. Aldrich nodded. “Yes, I suppose He could have, just as He could have kept my loved ones from freezing to death. Just as He could have kept your mother and brothers from dying. Just as He could have kept the snake out of the garden. God could have done a lot of things and didn’t. We don’t understand why, and it hurts. It hurts us deep down.”

“Yes,” Micah barely whispered.

She squeezed his arm. “He knows that too. Someday, I believe we’ll understand, but for now we have two choices. We either give up on God and walk away, or we trust Him no matter what happens to us. For me, I’m going to trust Him, because life without Him seems too horrible to even think about.”

Micah knew she was right. Even in his arguments with God and rantings about His unfairness, at least God had been a part of Micah’s life. To push Him aside altogether would leave an impossible void. He drew a deep breath and gave a nod.

“I’d best let you go for now, but Micah, would you please come and stay with us for roundup? We have plenty of room, and it would comfort me to have you near, instead of having you ride back and forth.”

“Sure. I can do that.”

She let go of her hold on him and nodded. “Thank you so much, Micah. It means the world to me.”

Later that night, Lucille sat by her fire and prayed for Micah. She thought of how troubled he was. He was so wounded by the death of his father. Perhaps even more by the fact that they’d had to hide the details. But how did one deal with suicide? Micah’s father had chosen death over life.

Life with his son.

In taking his own life, Wayman Hamilton had taken a part of his son’s life too. He’d left Micah to feel he’d somehow failed his father. That if he’d been there, he could have kept his father from making that horrible decision.

“Oh, God, Micah needs You so much. He’s struggling to understand—to overcome. Show him the way through that dark void. Help me to be there for him too. Show me how I can help. Show me what I need to do to reach him.”

She glanced across the room she’d shared with her hus band for nearly twenty years. It seemed so empty without him. Sometimes the nights threatened to swallow her up in dark thoughts and pain. She could well understand Wayman Hamilton’s pain at losing his best friend. Frank had been her best friend too. They had known each other since they’d been children. Theirs had been one of those relationships that just naturally fell into place. Everyone knew they’d one day marry because they were always together. No other fella had ever attempted to win Lucille’s heart. They knew she belonged to Frank Aldrich.

The thought made her sigh as she gazed at the empty bed. How lonely the nights were. How terribly empty without her dearest friend. Tears came to her eyes, and once more she grieved her husband and the void his absence left.

“Frank, I don’t know why you aren’t here. I begged you to be careful and still you left me. Left me and took our son with you. I feared that night when the horses came back without you that something bad had happened.”

She wiped her eyes and felt a sense of anger. “You listened to me when I told you the winter would be hard, and you sold off the cattle despite your misgivings. You should have stayed with Charlotte and me. You knew another storm was coming. Why didn’t you listen to me about that?”

Micah wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand the choices made. Lucille had battled with her own questions since she put her husband and son in the ground. She was certain she would always ask those questions, and just as certain there would be no satisfactory answers.

Her words to Micah came back.

“Someday, I believe we’ll understand, but for now we have two choices. We either give up on God and walk away , or we trust Him no matter what happens to us.”

She gazed into the fire. “I’ll trust you, Lord. The alternative is no good to me.”