Love's Abiding Joy (Love Comes Softly #4)(47)

"And the right thing for me as you see it?"

"I can't tell ya thet. I know thet iffen ya are troubled 'bout



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things as they be now, then maybe ya should do somethin' to try to straighten 'em out. I know thet mothers can pain somethin' awful, not knowing 'bout their sons. I know thet fathers can make mistakes thet they suffer fer, an' sometimes it's most difficult to be man enough to say they was wrong. Thet's all I know. Yes . . . I know another thing, as well. I know thet God can help us do the right thing--even though it seems impossible. But only you can decide what is the right thing fer you."

Juan weighed the words of the older man. At length he turned to him and extended his hand.

"I am not making any promises, except that I will think about what you have said. It is a very hard thing."

Clark took the hand and shook it firmly. "I will be prayin' thet you make the right decision," he said.

They returned to the others. There were questions in many eyes but none were asked. Maria and Juan soon declared that they must be on their way home.

Cookie came to visit Clark whenever his work would allow him a break. He usually waited until he saw Clark out on the veranda getting some fresh air or early morning sun, and then he would hobble over to ease himself to a step or a nearby chair. He seemed to feel he and Clark had much in common. One day he even dared to talk about it.

"Leg bother ya much?"

"Not bad now. Gives me a bit of a jar iffen I happen to bump it."

"Trouble with 'phantom pain'?"

"Some."

"Must be peculiar feelin'. Somethin' hurtin' thet ain't even there."

"Yah, bothers me some all right. Itches somethin' awful at times, an' ya ain't even got anythin' to scratch." Clark chuckled ruefully.

"Well, at least I don't have them problems," said Cookie. "Yer leg still pain ya a good deal?" asked Clark. "Sometimes." There was a moment of silence while Cookie



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thought of the pain. "Not as bad lately though. Was a time I near went wild with it."

Clark nodded his head in understanding.

"How many years now?" he asked.

"I try to fergit. Guess it must be 'bout five already. No, six. Lotsa' folks said as how I'd a-been better off to have it off like you done."

"Well," Clark reminded him, "I wasn't able to do my own choosin'. Don't know's I would have really picked this way to do it, iffen I had."

"Yer leg was bad broke, Clark," Cookie assured him evenly. "I knew as soon as I seed it thet only a miracle could save it, an' seems to me we been a little short on miracles in my lifetime."

Clark smiled. "Well," he said firmly, "I ain't seen an overabundance of miracles myself, but I shore ain't doubtin' them none." Watching Cookie's expectant face carefully, Clark went on, "Guess one of the biggest miracles thet I know of is when God takes a no-good sinner and makes a saint fittin' fer heaven outa 'im. Now, thet's a real miracle, to my thinkin'. Even an earthly fella like the doc can, with some trainin' an' the right tools an' medicine, put a badly messed-up body together ag'in. But only God, through His love an' grace, can take a crushed and broken soul and restore it ag'in. Yessir, thet's a miracle."

Cookie scuffed the dust with the toe of his boot.

"Take me now," Clark said confidingly, "ya know what happened with me? When I first woke up to the fact thet I only had one leg, a part of me died inside. I started tellin' myself all kinds of stories 'bout being' only half a man, an' how sad it was to be a cripple, an' how sorry I could be fer myself, an' even how God had let me down. Fer a minute, I almost had me convinced thet I had good reason to jest turn over to the wall and have a real good feelin'-sorry-fer-myself time. My body was broken--was bruised and hurtin'--an' my soul wanted to sympathize with it, see? My soul wanted to curl up an' hurt an' suffer an' become bitter an' ugly. Now, God didn't choose to do a miracle on this here leg." Clark tapped the stump



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lightly. "But He did a bigger an' more important miracle. He worked over the inner me--the soul of me. Thet's where I needed the miracle the most, so thet's where He applied His amazin' power. In here," said Clark, pointing to his broad chest, "in here, I don't hurt anymore."

Cookie's eyes hinted ever so slightly of unshed tears, and Clark wondered how many years Cookie had been in pain both inwardly and outwardly. He reached out a hand and gently squeezed the cowpoke's shoulder.

"We needn't fear," his voice was almost a whisper. "He's still doin' miracles."



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Chapter Twenty-one




Growing



Willie returned to the range and the business of a ranch in the fall. Cattle needed to be rounded up and a few stray doggies branded. The steers for market needed to be cut and sorted from the herd and driven to the train station for shipping. Fences needed fixing and pastures had to be checked before the coming winter, besides the water holes to watch and rustlers to keep an eye out for. The warm fall days were busy from dawn till dark.