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With all my Heart - Discerning God's Best BOOK 2

By Heidi Gray McGill

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Chapter 1
March 15, 1860
Pete Manning’s Cabin

Early rays of sunlight touched Pete’s face with the faintest caress as he drank his coffee on the front porch of his modest cabin. His eyes watered from the biting air while the coffee burned his dry, chapped lips before warming his insides. He looked forward to the warmth of spring after being cooped up for so long. He’d busied himself during the cold winter months by making two decent high-backed chairs. A smile formed as he remembered the goading his best friend and nearest neighbor, Clint Shankel, had given him about the stumps he’d been using.

Pete’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he remembered how star-struck Clint had been over Rachel Trexler the moment he’d seen her. He sobered when he remembered his own contemplations of being in love with her, as well. After Rachel’s husband, Melvin, died, Pete thought he and Rachel would make a good match.

He would have enjoyed being a father to Thomas and Cecelia, Melvin’s children from his first marriage. He still felt close to Rachel’s brother, Charlie, and knew they would have gotten along well in the same household. God obviously had other plans.

Living in Missouri was challenging, but he’d made it through the worst of winter. There could still be snow, but he needed to get busy breaking up the land for the spring planting. Pete tossed the dregs of coffee onto the ground, the liquid cracking the frosted edges of the puddle where he’d thrown his wash water earlier. Thwack! He slapped his leg before standing. Sometimes it was just too quiet out here. Even the birds hushed their musical conversations at the unnatural sound.

“Welp, nobody’s going to do it for you.” Pete placed the tin cup on the kitchen table. Pulling his gloves from his pocket, he removed the rifle from above the door frame, did a quick check, and headed out to the barn to start his monotonous routine.

His days were the same—get up, tend the animals, work the land, choke down nearly inedible food, clear the dishes, read his Bible, go to bed, repeat. Winter evenings had been hardest, but he’d kept his promise to the Widow Brooks and read his Bible after sundown each evening. Grammie, as everyone had affectionately called her, had treated him like a son and loved him as such. He’d last seen her two Christmases ago. She’d died, at peace in her sleep, the following morning.

Pete felt a pang of remorse. He needed to write to his own mother. It had been far too long since he’d heard from his family, and a slight niggling of concern entered his mind.

“Probably just the weather keeping the stagecoach from its normal mail delivery schedule.” Elke responded with a low moo as he entered the barn. “You lonely, too, Elke? Clint will be starting his herd this year. Maybe you’ll find yourself a nice bull to court.” The barn resounded with his distinctive laugh. An outsider might have thought he owned another animal, the sound mimicking a donkey before it reaches full bray. “I’m talking to a cow.”

“Hello, the house!” The familiar voice of his neighbor and friend, Charlie, was a welcome sound.

“Hey there,” Pete said as he looked out the barn door.

The now sixteen-year-old boy slid easily from the saddle and patted the neck of his horse, whispering in its ear before reaching his hand to Pete’s extended one.

“How’s the hardest working man in these parts? How’s Rachel?” Pete asked.

“I’m great, thanks for asking. Rachel’s tired. With Thomas spending more time in the fields, she has her hands full with Cecelia and baby Serafina.”

Pete shook his head. “That Thomas works harder than any other seven-year-old I know. Cecelia walking yet?”

“Walking? That girl practically runs everywhere she goes. We have to keep the door latched, or she runs off. She causes Rachel a heap of grief. And, she’s quiet. Only an Indian can move that stealthily.”

Pete’s heart did a little flip at the mention of Indians, and he felt the familiar twitch in his right eye.

“Sorry, Pete, I wasn’t thinking. Have you heard anything from Singing Bird?”

“No. I expect the Arapaho have moved on and her with them.” Pete’s voice held a tinge of sadness.

“Do you ever think about riding out that way and checking?” Charlie asked, with what sounded like put-on enthusiasm in his voice.

“Think? Yeah.” Pete shifted from one foot to the other. “Think about it all the time.”

He looked in the direction where the Arapaho camp had once been. He missed Singing Bird and her bright-eyed child, Little Sun. They’d come into his life and left just as quickly.

Fourteen days was all it had taken for him to realize she was something special, and he should have fought for her, or at least given her a choice and asked her if she’d like to stay.

It was a two days’ ride over rough terrain to get to their camp. He shook his head. They’d probably moved on after two years anyway.

“So.” Pete changed the tone of his voice and looked at Charlie. “You didn’t come here to talk about my lack of a love life, did you?” He chuckled, but it sounded forced, even to his ears.

“Actually, I came to ask for your opinion about something.” Charlie squared his shoulders. “I’m happy to help you work while we talk if that’s all right with you. Clint doesn’t need me today since we finished the interior of the bunkhouse yesterday. Clint’s going to take Thomas hunting. Oh, and Rachel sent lunch for us.”

“Now that’s the best thing you’ve said yet!” Pete’s laughter was genuine. “And I always appreciate another hand. I have a habit of talking to Elke. You’re a lot better looking, and I won’t have to answer myself with you.” Pete clapped Charlie on the shoulder, chuckling at his own joke. “Let’s start in the barn. I’ll let you talk to Elke. She’ll enjoy a fresh voice.”

The men worked in companionable silence. Pete waited for Charlie to share whatever he’d come to discuss, but when he didn’t, Pete decided to help the conversation along. “What’s on your mind, Charlie?”

“You know I love Clint like a brother, right?”

Pete nodded but didn’t interrupt.

“It’s just that, since he’s married Rachel, I feel a little, well, awkward. They’ve got all these plans.” Charlie looked up. “Don’t get me wrong, Clint’s been great about including me. It’s just that, well…” He lowered his head again, moving the bucket and stool and releasing Elke from her hold. “…I’m almost 17. I’m ready for my own adventure. I don’t always want to be under Clint’s thumb.” Again, he looked up. “I mean, I’m grateful for all he’s taught me. He treats me as an adult and includes me in all the discussions. It’s just that…” His shoulders hung as if the bucket of milk were too heavy, like a burden.

Pete walked in his direction and put a hand on the shoulder of the boy, now as tall as he.

“How about we get that milk inside and finish this discussion over a cup of coffee? Chores can wait.” The nod Pete received was all he needed to head into the house.

Milk was stored, coffee poured, and the cookies Rachel sent for lunch sat on the table before the men.

Lord, help me here.

“Then ask Me.” Pete’s heart quickened when he felt, more than heard, the response.

“Mind if we pray before we start?” Charlie’s upbringing made it easy for him to comply. Pete was more nervous. This would be the first time he prayed out loud in front of someone for more years than he could remember.

“Lord.” Pete swallowed the catch in his throat. “This fine young man needs wisdom. I’m not sure I’m the one to give it, but I thank You that he came to me to talk it through. Help us both to know Your will and direction. Amen.” The peace that settled over the room was palpable.

“Thanks, Pete. I still can’t get used to this change in you. I’m glad you did what Grammie suggested.”

“God and I hadn’t been on speaking terms for many years. On her last Christmas Day, when Grammie asked each of us to spend time with her, I knew she was in her final days. She was hard on me. Basically, told me that the loneliness I was feeling wasn’t from the lack of a good woman or because God had abandoned me, but because I had buried my faith and turned my back on God.”

“Those must have been hard words to hear.” Charlie shook his head.

“Grammie sure made me squirm in my boots.” He hoped the grin on his face and the tone in his voice showed the love he had for the old woman.

“I came home and began reading my Bible religiously each evening. Started in the New Testament. When I finished that, I went back to the beginning. I grew up in church all my life. Have lots of scripture stored up here.” He tapped his temple. “Problem is, I’m not sure it ever made it here.” His hand moved down to his heart. “But that’s a story for another day. Let’s get back to your problem. What do you think you want to do?”

“Good question. Grammie spoke to me too. I can still hear her voice telling me God had big plans for me and reminding me to acknowledge Him always, and He would guide me on the right path. Problem is, I’m torn between what I want to do and the tug I feel to help Clint and Rachel.”

Pete was silent for a few moments, mulling over Charlie’s words while also giving the young man time to keep speaking if he had more to say.

“Well, I see a couple of things here. I’m probably not the best to give advice, but I do have some thoughts.” He paused, and the rapt attention from Charlie made him nervous. “If you feel strongly that God has spoken, well, don’t try to run from it.” Pete’s body shook with delight. “Jonah tried that tactic, and it didn’t go so well for him.”

The laughter from both broke the tension and made Pete feel much more at ease.

“The other thing is this. I know you’ve watched out for your sister all your life, especially growing up in an orphanage, but when she married Clint, that responsibility transferred from you to her new husband. So as far as Rachel goes, you’re free to follow your heart. As far as Clint goes, I’ve got some experience there.” Pete stood and refilled both of their cups, then sat and took a bite of the soft molasses cookie, enjoying the sweet bitterness on his tongue.

“Clint was my best friend growing up. You’ve heard the stories of our boyhood antics.” Charlie grinned, and Pete was sure he’d pulled some stunts of his own. “Thing is, we went our separate ways after our military days. I learned I was better at talking to people than shooting them. He determined he was better catching them first, which sometimes meant shooting, and then talking to them.” Pete’s snort made Charlie choke on the bite he was chewing.

“Yeah, that’s Clint,” Charlie almost choked again with his own laughter. “At least he takes the time to get all the facts. I thought a few times he was going to tan my hide. Sixteen’s a bit old for a switching.”

Pete agreed but knew Clint was always more concerned about what was just and right than he was about propriety.

“Clint had been an outstanding US Marshal with one of the best reputations around before he decided on a change of lifestyle. I took a job as a land surveyor after my military days. Kept me out in the open and allowed me to see the land. Met lots of…” his eyebrows went up as he drew out the word, “interesting people, and enjoyed doing the calculations that went with the job.” He sipped his coffee. “Problem is, I was too trusting. Got myself mixed up with some pretty bad businessmen.”

When Pete didn’t continue, Charlie prompted, “What happened?”

Pete jerked a little at Charlie’s voice as he came back to the present. Rehashing the past was difficult.

“For a very long time, I was on the run. I’d been accused of altering boundary lines. Greed will make people do crazy things. At first, I thought I’d just made an error here and there, which is always possible, but not every time. When I went back to review, I knew it couldn’t be me as I never erased when I made a mistake. I always crossed through with a single line. When I got wind they thought I’d falsified records, I knew I was facing prison time. They set me up, and I never saw it coming.” The hand that rubbed the back of his neck pushed out the deep breath that followed. “Clint got to the bottom of things, thankfully.” He smiled before continuing.

“I tell you all that for two reasons. First, I didn’t face my fears. I ran from everything, including God. Lost over a year of my life hiding and nearly lost my best friend. Second, Clint believed in me. When he caught up with me, he listened fully to my side and set out to find the truth. When he did, I felt like I owed him something. I kept trying to do things for him. Just about wore myself ragged keeping up with my farm and helping him with his. He finally sat me down one day and asked me why I was doing it.”

Pete set his now empty cup on the table and relaxed against the back of the chair.

“It was difficult to answer. I wasn’t sure why I did it. I told him I guessed I felt obligated because I could never repay the debt, and I didn’t deserve what he did for me. His response surprised me.” Pete cleared his throat which had become thick with emotion. “He said, ‘You’re right. You don’t deserve it.’”

Charlie’s shocked expression turned to confusion. “I don’t understand.” Charlie was leaning forward now, his forearms resting on the table.

“In Romans, the Bible tells us that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Pete’s voice became louder and more animated, his back no longer touching the chair. “While we were still sinners, Charlie. When we least deserved it. When we were not worthy by any earthly standard, that’s when Christ made the ultimate sacrifice. The greatest act of love in all of history.”

“But…” Charlie began to question.

“When Clint told me I didn’t deserve his help, he followed it up with, ‘but I freely did it anyway.’ You see, that’s how God is. He’s shown grace and mercy for all my shortcomings, mistakes, and sins. I certainly didn’t do anything to deserve it, but God, in His infinite love for us, wants us to accept the gift He offers. He used Clint to show me His love and to help me understand my need for Him.”

Pete watched as the light of understanding came into Charlie’s eyes. The boy stared, making Pete squirm on the hard seat.

“You’ve changed, Pete,” Charlie said.

“I hope so.” Pete shifted in his chair.

He’d surprised himself with what had come out of his mouth, especially with such clarity and conviction. He became even more uncomfortable under Charlie’s continued scrutiny.

Thwack. Charlie flinched when Pete slapped his knee and stood.

“Three cups of coffee, not to count those I drank at breakfast. How about we do some real work this morning and burn off all this energy?”

They spent the rest of the morning and into the noon hour, clearing the field of nature’s molting. They picked up fallen limbs and debris, prepared the area for plowing, and checked the fence posts as they walked the property. They enjoyed the lunch Rachel prepared, missing the cookies they had eaten that morning with their coffee.

“Sure do miss Rachel’s cooking.” Pete patted his stomach before standing to wash his plate. “Saw a few sections of fence needing mending. Are you able to stay and help a bit longer? Can’t offer much for supper.”

“Happy to help. I’ll head home before dark. One meal won’t kill me.”

“So, you think,” Pete jested.

The men worked in silence for over an hour, both deep in thought, before Charlie stopped hammering and looked across the field. As if he were continuing a conversation he’d already started in his mind, Charlie spoke.

“Not like I’m disrespectful. Maybe Clint and Rachel would even appreciate a little more privacy. I know I would want that if I were married.”

Pete watched as a slight tinge of pink tipped Charlie’s ears, and he guessed the boy hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

“I suppose I would too. Clint and I are both 31. I hope you don’t have to wait as long as I have for the right woman.”

As if pulled by an unseen force, his gaze drifted in the direction of the Arapaho camp.

***

Charlie enjoyed the leisurely ride back home after a hard day at Pete’s. The soreness of his muscles gave him a sense of fulfillment, yet his mind was still unsettled. He spoke to the wind as he processed aloud.

“I’m ready for adventure.” The statement prompted another. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Pete said I no longer should consider Rachel my responsibility and to do what I want.”

He knew that wasn’t exactly right, yet something about speaking the words out loud justified his internal turmoil, turning it into purpose.

“Why am I even arguing with myself over this? I should go—make my own way.” He cringed at the haughty words and couldn’t ignore the idea that his distorted thoughts were not right. Even so, he held on to his feelings.

He was at Melvin’s grave at the edge of their property now and dismounted. He loved this man who had adopted him after marrying Rachel. Melvin had been the only father he’d known. Charlie stood over the stones, hands on his hips, and breathed in the heady scent of the honeysuckle lovingly planted by Thomas.

“Dad, what would you do? You left your family, your inheritance, your home, and struck out on your own. Would you tell me to do the same?” He didn’t get a response, nor did he feel the peace for which he’d hoped.

The wind blew in the leaves above Charlie’s head, and he lifted his face to the moon peeking through the branches. He listened intently, searching the night sounds for anything that might be God’s response. Hearing nothing, he turned, his horse following behind him.

That’s when it dawned on him. He hadn’t been talking with God, just mulling things over in his mind. He knew it was not the same thing.

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