A Blessed Song for Their Love by Olivia Haywood
Chapter 2
Abraham dragged the back of his hand across his brow, squinting up at the sky as he did so. He took his hat off and shook back his rust-brown hair. Standing tall at five feet, eleven inches, Abraham was muscular and handsome. His sapphire-blue eyes, Grecian nose, and clean-shaven, oblong face reminded people who looked at him of what his Biblical namesake could have looked like as a young man of twenty-six.
That sunny day, he was inspecting horses with one of his ranch hands, exhausted from lack of sleep and worry over Thomas. Though his aunt Amelia was putting in more time taking care of the boy, he had been helping out as well.
It was an effort for them both because Thomas was finding it difficult to adjust to the sudden and incomprehensible changes in his life. He cried frequently, displayed a marked lack of appetite, and needed to be held at night, or he stayed awake. Perhaps he was missing his mother, Abraham mused. He sighed, and the ranch hand, Burt, gave him a quizzical look.
“What’s up, boss?” he asked.
Abraham grunted in reply and shook his head. “Nothing. All is well.”
“I can tell you’re worried, boss. That young foundling giving you and Ms. Amelia trouble? I could help out if you like,” Burt said.
“That’s very kind of you to offer,” Abraham murmured, “but I think we will manage until we find the help we seek.”
“Ah,” Burt remarked sagely, “we heard you’ve advertised for a governess. Hope you find one, boss. Seems they’re virtually unheard of in these parts.”
Abraham grunted again. “If you boys spent more time getting your chores done instead of gossiping about the problems that may or may not exist at the ranch house, we would all be better off,” he said wryly.
“I mean it, boss, I can help with the foundling,” Burt said. “My ma says I’m good with children.”
“His name is Thomas, so please don’t keep calling him the foundling,” Abraham replied wearily.
It was another busy day at the ranch. He had been overseeing the ranch hands who were halter-breaking the colts, and then he had assisted with repairs to the stables. Abraham was proud as he looked around, surveying his handiwork. There were horses dotting the landscape and ranch hands hurrying to and fro about their work.
Across from where he stood, he could see the repairs progressing on the barn roof. This was what made him happy and satisfied: intense activity on the ranch and a day where he didn’t have a free moment to think or feel anything except the exhilaration of seeing a job well done. But that day, thoughts of young Thomas crossed his mind often. Why had God placed him in such a situation, he wondered.
He shook the question from his head and walked over to the corrals.
“How are the new stallions doing?” Abraham asked the ranch hand who was working the horses in one of the enclosures.
“They’re taking their time being broken in,” the man replied, “but we’re working as hard as we can with them.”
“Good,” Abraham said. “I’ll spend some time with them tomorrow. There seems to be more to do today than I anticipated. But we need to get them in perfect shape for the horse fair. A little over a month is all we’ve got.”
He was leaning over, examining one of the horse’s flanks, and as he straightened up, he saw a familiar figure approaching.
“Oh, here comes Harris,” Abraham remarked, feeling a sense of relief at the sight of his foreman.
“Howdy, boss,” Harris Godwin said, doffing his hat.
“Howdy, Harris,” Abraham responded. “How did it go in town?”
“I got all the jobs done,” Harris replied. “I’ve managed to procure more of the feed that you wanted for the foals, and I also stopped by at the post office, where this was waiting for you.”
Abraham’s eyes widened eagerly at the sight of the letter Harris held up for him to see.
“So, there is one reply,” Abraham said, taking the letter and sliding it into the pocket of his breeches.
“Hopefully it will be promising,” Harris remarked.
“Well, I’m heading back to the house now to see how my aunt Amelia is doing, and we shall take a look at this letter together,” Abraham said. “Stay right here, and help out with the stallions, will you? Apparently it’s taking longer than usual to break them in, and we need them ready for the horse fair.”
“Don’t you think we have enough horses ready for the fair?” Harris queried.
Abraham pursed his lips and shook his head. “I want to grow this business fast, Harris. We all need to step up the pace and accomplish more every day.”
“Yes, sir,” Harris replied.
Abraham was looking past Harris at one of the horses.
“What’s going on with that stallion?” he asked, frowning. “Why is he limping?”
“Is he?” Harris asked, turning around to look in the direction Abraham was.
“Do you see that horse right there?” Abraham said. “There’s definitely something wrong with his hoof, and I hope it’s not serious.”
“Honestly, boss,” Harris said. “You spotted that animal from way over here?”
“Well, I sure did,” Abraham answered. “He stands out from the rest because he’s moving so awkwardly.”
“I must say I admire how nothing escapes your attention,” Harris declared.
Abraham watched his foreman run into the midst of the horses and single out the one he’d inquired about. He followed him and carried out a detailed examination on the horse, moving down its fetlock to see where exactly it was injured, if at all.
“It’s the hoof,” he said, raising the horse’s leg to reveal a stick embedded in the underside of its left hind hoof.
As he straightened up, he met Harris’s eyes, and they were filled with wonder.
“How do you do it, boss?” he asked.
“I’m vigilant, that’s all,” Abraham replied. “And I really want to make this ranch perform better than it is right now.”
As he walked away, he fingered the letter in his pocket, hoping that it contained the message he hoped for. He thought back to the reply he had given Harris Vigilance. It was a hard fact to face, but only he knew that it was to compensate for what he couldn’t bring himself to do. He couldn’t do anything that involved going into town or to the train station.
The noises and the people reminded him too much of the trauma he had suffered years ago when he had survived the tornado and then fought in the Civil War. He felt his spirits plummet at the thought. Even the merest recollection brought so much emotional upheaval that he always avoided any places that triggered the memories.
He had once tried to go to the train station, but even the smell of the engine smoke reminded him of gunfire. He had felt overwhelmed, clutching his chest as he’d fought for breath. It had been a cold winter’s day, yet he was bathed in perspiration. People had glanced at him curiously as he’d backed away and then run as far as he could go from the station, collapsing by a tree until he regained his composure.
He had tried to overcome his fear on another occasion when he had once again gone to the train station. He’d fought hard to block out the memories that the smell of smoke stirred up.
But then, as he’d seen people rushing to catch the train, spilling out of carriages, and crowding the platform, the horrors of the tornado had come rushing back to cripple him, bringing back with powerful intensity the screams of friends and family, the howling wind, and the hopeless feeling of not being in control.
That was when he’d realized he would have to accept there were some things he couldn’t do, so the things he could do right there on the ranch he would execute to perfection.
As Abraham reached the ranch house, he experienced a mingled sense of apprehension and anticipation. Holding back outside the front door, he heard Thomas inside and Amelia talking to him. The little boy, probably less than a year old, couldn’t speak yet. He cried, he gurgled, he cried some more.
Abraham felt a pang of sorrow for the child and the loss he had suffered. He knew what it was to lose a mother, and he also knew what it was to lose a father. He had lost both to nature’s fury that had caught them unawares.
To this day, Abraham chastised himself for his powerlessness and inability to do anything to prevent that tragedy. So many times his father had suggested they build an appropriate shelter where they could take refuge during tornados or storms.
He had left the job to Abraham, who’d spent his time whittling figures out of driftwood, always putting the task off for another day and therefore had never got down to building it. The ranch hands who’d been assigned to assist him had repeatedly reminded him, but on each occasion, he’d dismissed them, saying there was always time to get the job done.
The door opened before he could reach for the doorknob, and Amelia stood in the doorway, looking expectantly up at him.
“Why are you standing out here, son?” Amelia asked.
Abraham took his hat off as he stepped inside. “Well, I suppose I was lost in thought, and by the time I got around to opening the door, you did it for me.”
He looked down as little Thomas crawled over to him and held his arms out to be carried. Abraham saw the appeal in the infant’s eyes and awkwardly picked him up.
Already a month had passed since Thomas had entered their lives, and the strain was showing on Amelia’s face—and possibly on his face too. Amelia had dark circles under her eyes, and lines of anxiety creased her forehead. He had become incapable of smiling, it would seem, and his shoulders were stooped under the weight of his new burden. He couldn’t think of the boy as anything but an unwanted responsibility.
He couldn’t be anything else, Abraham reasoned. His world was the ranch and growing his business. Raising a child was not something that he felt worthy of. He had loved ones once, and he hadn’t done right by them. They had perished in the tornado due to his negligence. God was not about to give him a second chance at a family.
Thomas whimpered and leaned his head on Abraham’s shoulder. Rather than hold him closer, Abraham quickly held the boy out to Amelia.
“Take Thomas please, Aunt Amelia,” he said, his voice strained. He didn’t know how to behave around the boy. He could never be a father to him. A guardian, perhaps, but not a parent. Abraham was overwhelmed by panic. Thomas needed a father, and he couldn’t be one to him.
What if he grew up resentful and went astray? Abraham choked on fear. He had neither the experience nor the desire to help mold and shape the boy’s character.
Amelia looked weary when Abraham handed Thomas over to her.
“Hold the boy for a little while at least,” Amelia pleaded. “He wants to be carried all the time now, and my back hurts. My arms hurt too.”
“I’ve been out working on the ranch,” Abraham replied, trying to keep the irritation from his voice, “and I am ever so tired as well.” He delved into his pocket and retrieved the letter, and Amelia’s eyes lit up.
“Read it, son,” she said, and Abraham opened the envelope and took out the letter. He turned the envelope over. “It’s from Miss Laura Russ,” he said.
“The same young woman who sent in her application in response to your ad?” Amelia said.
“Yes,” Abraham replied, nodding. He held the letter as if afraid to read it.
“Open it,” Amelia urged. “We must know whether she has accepted your offer of employment or not.”
Abraham tore open the envelope, unfolded the papers inside, and read aloud:
Dear Mr. Harnell,
Thank you for your offer of employment as governess to your son. I am pleased to accept the terms you have suggested and will prepare to leave for Kansas immediately.”
Amelia bounced little Thomas in her arms with joy, and Abraham cautioned her, “Aunt Amelia, you just mentioned that your back hurt. Please don’t invite further aches and pains by bouncing Thomas quite so vigorously.”
“Suddenly I feel lighter,” Amelia remarked, her face shining. “This is the will of God and an answer to our prayers. It has taken us a month, but we have finally found someone who seems suitable for this task.”
Abraham wished he could feel as light-hearted as his aunt looked at that moment, but he still felt the weight responsibility that had so suddenly been thrust upon them. He heaved a sigh, thinking how glad he was that the ranch was finally showing a profit and he could therefore afford to employ a governess for Thomas. As if reading his mind, Amelia’s face was illuminated by another smile.
“This is a part of God’s plan, Abraham,” she declared. “With your horse business turning a profit, you can ensure that this young boy is brought up properly trained in His ways. After all, as Proverbs 22:6 says, ‘Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.’”
Abraham said nothing, merely shrugged.
“Do you not think that Miss Laura Russ was sent by God for such a time as this?” Amelia queried.
“I think it is due to the fact that I placed an ad in the newspaper that we now have someone on her way to take up position as Thomas’s governess,” Abraham replied. “It is, after all, due to my hard work that the ranch is turning a profit, isn’t it?”
“Of course.” Amelia nodded. “But it is the Lord who has provided this opportunity. I am convinced this is so.”
“Well, most certainly Thomas will benefit from the good training Miss Russ will give him, and this will certainly be a blessing,” Abraham said, secretly aggrieved that his aunt had so quickly disregarded the part he had played in the success of the ranch. “And we shall certainly both benefit from uninterrupted sleep at night once Miss Russ gets here.”
As he sat down to lunch with Amelia and Thomas, Abraham couldn’t help thinking, triumphantly, that if God was indeed mocking him by having Thomas land up on his doorstep, he was proving something to Him in return. He was going to show his Maker that he was capable of handling the situation.
He was going to show Him that his plans to grow the ranch into an even larger and more successful business were not going to be derailed and that he would find a way to cope with this added, unexpected responsibility without allowing the ranch to suffer. His business would thrive no matter what. He would make sure that he made up for all that he hadn’t done for the ranch when he was younger.
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