From Mourning to Joy

could happen is she’d escort him off the property at the end of her rifle.
“Morning, Bernie,” said Henry Stewart. “Janelle got you delivering product on her day off?”
“She worked all evening on the cheese. Thought you might like some in the store. Wanted to save today to sew on that new dress. Mighty excited about the town dance coming up.”
“You’re doing the Lord’s work out there, mate. Hopefully after a night of dancing, the woman will come to her senses and you’ll become a permanent resident of our little town.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. Nothing would make me happier.” Bernie grabbed a stick candy for Davey and a lifted a pretty hat off the shelf. “Do you think she might like this? I mean, to wear for our night out?”
“No. She won’t appreciate you wasting money on another hat, but she will like this,” said Livvy who’d came in from the back room.”
“Morning, Mrs. Stewart,” said Bernie. “And what do you think is so special about paper?”
“It’s called stationary and it has a beautiful farm scene at the top. Noticed her looking at it once but put it back really quick when she saw I noticed her interest.”
“It’s hard to spoil a woman with such practical interests,” said Bernie. “Can I afford it?”
“Five cents to you, Bernie,” said Henry. He looked at his wife and smiled. You’re not the only one who can be generous, woman.”
“I reckon not.” She grabbed the booklet of fancy paper and tucked a pencil inside. “I’ll wrap this for you. It should set her in the proper mood for your evening out.”
“Off to the blacksmith. My horse needs her shoe fixed.” Bernie waved as he headed for the door. “Be back shortly.”
Bernie led his horse to the blacksmith shop and Abram was heating his iron on the fire. He showed him Blaze’s hoof and he whistled. “Easy fix, mister. Have I met you?”
“Bernie Drysdale is the name. I’m helping the widow Rimes out at the farm ‘til spring.”
“Right neighborly. Anyone who knows Janelle knows she ain’t got money to pay you.”
“But she cooks mighty fine meals and the straw bed in the barn is cozier than the open trail.”
“Got a point there.”
Bernie snooped around to pass the time while the man worked on Blaze’s shoe.
“Almost done,” called Abram.
Bernie returned and struck up a conversation. “Anything exciting happening around town these days?”.
“The usual – but, no, come to think of it, your boss was mentioned in the saloon last night.”
“Janelle? Who’d be talking about her in the drinking hole?”
“Some cowhand. Comes in now and then from the Silver Aspen Ranch. The scoundrel drinks and spouts off his mouth too much fer my liking. Just before he left, he started bragging about it being high-time he got himself hitched. Said he had him a woman waiting fer him.”
That got Bernie’s attention. “Did you hear his name – was it, Sam?”
“Yeah, that’s the fella. Sam Spalding.”
“Are you done now?” Bernie dug in his pocket for a coin. “I’m in a hurry.”
One final tap and he let the horse’s hoof to the ground. “Done.” He took the payment and Bernie led the horse outside.
He rode to the mercantile, picked up his package and hit the trail toward home. Strange how good it felt to think of any place on God’s green earth as home. He lifted his head to the sky and prayed for Janelle’s safety as he pushed Blaze into a full gallop. The snow on the road was sticky and easy for his horse to grip. Blaze had no problem giving him all the speed he needed. He hoped that Sam’s ranting about getting a bride was someone other than Janelle, but seriously doubted it. When he turned into the lane and saw no activity in the yard he figured to check in the house before returning to work on broken fences.
He knocked first, then popped his head inside the cabin. “Janelle?” No answer. Opening the door wide, he scurried in. The dishes from breakfast lay dirty and piled close to the wash pan. The empty skillet sizzled with charred remnants of sausage. He pushed it off to the cool side of the stove and yelled again. “Janelle!” Still no answer. He groaned aloud when he saw the state of her bedroom. It was a mess, not at all like Janelle for she was fussy-clean.
Bernie raced to the henhouse and stopped abruptly a few feet from the building. Her basket and broken eggs lay splattered on the ground. This is where he’d confronted her. The scoundrel somehow knew she’d be alone and chose this time to abduct her. At the top of his lungs he yelled, “Janelle!” but his voice came back to rip open the fear growing in his heart. Bernie noticed a second set of bigger footprints beside Janelle’s daintier ones. There’d been a scuffle. Bernie’s arms tensed by his side and his fists tightened.
He retraced their steps back to the hitching post where he’d left Blaze. Only then he noticed the other set of prints; two horses. He’d brought one for her to ride. At least she wasn’t squished close to him on the same saddle. She’d be grateful for that small mercy. As he turned to mount Blaze, he noticed the dirtied chunk of bread that probably dropped from her skirt during her quick departure. Bernie slowly plodded toward the tree line, following the hoof-prints. He noticed the twigs broken where they’d entered the denser foliage.
Bernie kept watchful eyes peeled to the ground as he inched forward. He did not want to get off course so early in the tracking. He thought of the horror Janelle must be experiencing, hopefully just in her mind and not as a result of Sam’s abuse. The burly man would gain control