Christmas Epilogue

Epilogue

“…conceive and give birth…”

Luke 2:31

Agatha Tabitha Freefrompride prodded the smoldering logs on the hearth as she prepared Christmas dinner—her first Christmas married to the boy, now man of her dreams. She paused and leaned on the mantle as a montage of memories played in her head to the soundtrack of Stephen Curtis Chapman’s “I Will Be Here.” The song had to repeat several times to accommodate all the scenes that had taken place over the last year. The last memory playing in her mind was a slow motion scene of she and Clark’s wedding; what a beautiful day it had been full of long gazes into each other’s eyes, solitary tears, and friends and family looking on with love with their heads tilted to the side and their hands clasped at their chests.

As her memory montage faded to black, Aggie realized she still had much to do to prepare for the day. After shaking off her characteristic tension headache, Agatha began finishing up the rest of her holiday preparations. Her apron draped over a growing bump on her waste, a new life on the way, a testament of her and Clark’s love, a bun in the oven. Clark didn’t know yet, the doctor had just confirmed that their bundle of joy would be coming in the next 4 or 5 months (Agatha thought she’d just been putting on weight for the first several months). Agatha had waited for today, Christmas, to break the wonderful news to her love Clark, her father, and Clark’s family. A smile spread across her face as she looked at the small parcels under the proud Christmas tree that Clark had cut down for her. She had festooned the tree with strings of cranberries, and bows made with the extra fabric from her latest calico dress.

She kneeled at the hearth to stir the mashed potatoes in her sturdy Dutch oven, catching a whiff of the turkey roasting on its spit over the warm flames. As she knelt down she felt a slight movement in her stomach that caused her to jump. She held her right hand to the spot she had felt the movement. She wondered if she was so excited that her very body was responding with joy, but then she realized it was her little bundle, her precious package, the littlest Freefrompride.

“What’s the matter beloved?” Clark stood in the doorway, surveying his wife’s surprised face and her bent figure clasping her stomach.

“Nothing my groom, just excited for our dinner. Is everyone here?” Agatha was proud of her quick wit.

“Yes my prize, they’re all here, should we gather around the tree in a picturesque semi-circle and open an inaugural gift before Christmas dinner?”

“That sounds lovely my best companion and constant provider, I have just the one. Usher them in!” Agatha could barely contain the blush of excitement spreading over her cheeks.

As they all gathered around the tree creating an image that only Thomas Kinkade could render with enough love and light, Agatha handed Clark the present she had prepared for this moment. Clark read aloud the gift label: “To my dearest friend and lover Clark, with love, your bride and servant Agatha. Thank you dear one,” Clark met the soft eyes of his wife as he began to tear apart the parcel’s brown wrapping. Folded gracefully in the small package was a neatly embroidered handkerchief. Clark read aloud the scrolling blue text, “Awww, thanks honey. It’s a handkerchief, and it says, ‘expectant father’ on it….that’s….now wait one second. Have I gone and opened someone else’s gift, because I’m not an expectant father, not that I know of.” A bewildered but expectant Clark looked up at Agatha for help who simply nodded and smiled.

“Well, give me one second to go kiss my beautiful wife,” Clark got up off his chair with the biggest smile on his face and a solitary tear of joy falling down his cheek; he went to Agatha, picking her off the ground and spinning her around in a circle. “I can’t believe it we’re having a baby!!” The rest of the family present clapped and laughed as they all celebrated together, discussing due dates and plans. They all chided Agatha for keeping the secret as long as she did, but they all agreed it was the best Christmas present they had ever seen. Even Bart Freefrompride, who had also changed his last name, let loose a solitary tear.

Clark and Agatha could barely contain their happiness as they sat through Christmas dinner, both steeling long smiling glances at one another. Indeed, God has been good, very very good to them. As they celebrated the birth of the Christ child surrounded by family and friends, and amidst the aromas of a holiday meal and the faint scent of pine and cinnamon, Clark and Aggie celebrated the upcoming birth of their own darling son or daughter. The real question remains whether Agatha will be able to hold onto her faith during the pains of childbirth.

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

“I got the joy, JOY, joy, JOY, joy, JOY…”

From a Sunday school song

Clark and Agatha had remained frozen in their spots across the inn dining hall for at least another 5 minutes, just looking each other and gathering the proper amount of emotion for a Christian Romance Novel reunion. Both of their eyes welled up with tears that didn’t dare fall, but rather made them both misty eyed. This Providential happening overwhelmed Agatha (Providential because it happened in Providence Station). Agatha let up a brief prayer to the God she had a rollercoaster relationship with (rollercoasters also had also not been invented):

You brought us together. I don’t know how God, but you did, you really did. Oh gee God, you really did, you did, you did, you did.

Clark looked upon the love of his youth feeling like ten thousand burdens had fallen off his back, and were still rolling away like tumbleweed across the Western frontier. Her beauty overwhelmed him, and finally the romantic tension between them built so much that it could have lit the Freegrace’s new barn on fire, causing Agatha to have another existential crisis about God and suffering, and Clark ran towards Agatha. Agatha ran towards Clark. They stopped a yard away from each other to extend the final moments of the book. “Agatha, I should have told you it was me all along,” Clark said the words as a convicted criminal, as the guilt ridden Prodigal son.

“Oh Clark, I’m only glad that it is you. I thought God was really throwing a wrench in my plans to have the ‘marry the love of your youth’ life story when it seemed the ‘marry the tall dark stranger that comes into town’ plotline was playing out,” Agatha grabbed Clarks hand sending lightning bolts up Clarks arm, which actually doesn’t sound that pleasant come to think of it. “And whatever else it is that you don’t want to tell me, I’m ready for it, I won’t leave you for anything now that I’ve found you again.” It was at this point that the writer of the story considered messing with Agatha and Clark’s lives again, but decided that this story was starting to make her nauseous, so she might as well let them stay together.

“Agatha, the only secret I had was my true identity, well, and there is one other thing I oughta’ tell you,” a smile of joy started to spread across Clarks face.

“And what is that Mr. Dangerpride,” Agatha knew it was a good secret, and so she answered with a flirtatious line of dialogue.

“Well, Agatha. When I was at your house, I was talking to your Dad, and I’ve had a lot of time to think and…,” he paused as he tried to gather his words.

“And????” Agatha’s excitement was building.

“Well, you see, I think God’s been pursuing me all along, from when I was a little kid, and even when I was out on the frontier, and all those scripture embroidered handkerchiefs you gave me. And well, I just find myself praying in italics in my head sometimes, and when I’m sad lately, I feel like God wipes away my solitary tears,” a healthy amount of emotion for a man filled Clark’s voice as he poured out his soul to the girl he’d loved from his childhood, who he’d left behind, came back to find, fell in love with again, left again, came back to find, found she had gone to find him, which had prompted him to go find her, which had led him here to this very dramatic moment.

“Clark, I think He’s been after me too, through it all. Its all brought me to you…er him,” Agatha had hoped Clark was winding up to a proposal but this was the second best thing. She wouldn’t have wanted to explain to her father that she was planning on being unequally yoked in marriage.

“And Agatha, I want to follow God to together.” He grabbed her other hand, and as if drawn by some force bigger than them, they slowly lowered to their knees, their hands in each other’s hands, facing one another. The rest is a blur of conversion on their knees and intermittent making out, and telling each other how much they loved each other and God (the fitting conclusion to any story really).

“God take our hearts, like you took the heart of my grandfather A.T. Freegrace when he traveled West to bring Your word to the settlers of the prairies and also the mountains,” Agatha spoke through tears.

“Agatha I love you so much,” Clark pressed his lips to Agatha’s forehead, and wiped away as many of her tears as possible.

“Clark I love you too. Lets pray some more,” Agatha was so filled with love and joy.

This scene went on for most of the day until Hope had to ask them to clear out because she was closing up shop. The two Christian lovebirds left Providence Station that night to clear up any confusion about sharing inn rooms, and rode on their respective horses, hand in hand, all the way back to Sunshine Salvation Valley in Abundance County Oregon. That night Agatha went to bed with her characteristic perma-smile back on her face among the mountains and prairies she loved, with the love of her life sleeping in the next room:

Thank you for my hunk of a fiancée. He is seriously so attractive, that I can’t stop thinking about him. And thank you that I like you again too God.

As she was falling asleep, she looked at the mysterious pattern on her grandmother’s quilt, laid across her bed. All of a sudden, she had an epiphany looking at its design and she jumped out of bed, “It’s a CROSS! The brown sticks are actually a cross, and the red shape on it is a HEART, and those aren’t just random scribbles on the heart, its embroidery that reads: ABOUNDING LOVE GRACE, HOPE, and JOY!” It had had all fallen into place. She’d have to tell her dear Clark Dangerpride, who had decided to change his last name to Freefrompride. She understood even more now, all these things, love, grace, hope, joy, were all found on the cross, and although the writer of this book judges Agatha for never noticing this obvious pattern before and for countless other things that seem flawed in Agatha’s 2D personality, she agrees with her conclusions about the cross.

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“…patient…”

1 Corinthians 13:4

Agatha Tabitha Freegrace had stopped in a town somewhere along her route to find Clarky in Prodigal, Wyoming. She didn’t know what territory she was in, but the town sign read “Providence Station.” She was staying in a small room at the local inn, and was eating a quick breakfast at the dining hall before she would get on her horse, and continue her journey to the boy she had always loved, and the man she had grown to love even more.

“What can I do fer’ ya?” a plump woman wearing a bright calico apron smiled down at Agatha.

“I’d just like a light breakfast, I should be getting on the road soon,” Agatha answered politely. The kind woman could hear the anxiety in her voice.

“If ya’ don’t mind me askin’ deary. What’s layin’ so heavy on your heart?” Recently, Agatha had closed herself off to these kinds of inquiries, but the last few days had brought so much anxiety, so much fatigue, so much worry that hearing the gentle voice of this woman, caused the tension she had been carrying to break in a gush of tears and words.

“Its just, its just, I’m trying to find this man that I love, who was also the boy I loved when I was younger, and then he came back as someone else, but then he left again, because he’s hiding something, but then I figured out it was him, and I’m going after him, and I’m just so tired, and I’m afraid its too late, and, and I just don’t know what to do…” Agatha let the tears flow like she hadn’t in at least a day. It was like the waters of the Amazon, the Nile, and Niagra Falls put together, places Agatha had never even heard of.

“Oh let it out hun. It sounds like you’ve had a powerful hard day.” The kind woman put her arm Agatha, and offered her the edge of her own apron to wipe away her tears. “You know, I’m going to bring you a cinnamon roll. You just sit right there, and don’t worry your pretty head about a thing. I’m Hope, and if you need anything else in the meanwhile, just holler for me.”

“Thank you Hope,” Agatha choked out through her tears. Hope wound her way through the tables of the dining hall toward the swinging doors that led to the kitchen. A young man stopped her right as she was about to step into the back.

“Excuse me Mam’ can I have a few biscuits to go. I need to get on the road again soon, I’m in a hurry.”

“That seems to be the trend of the day young man. Have a seat, and I’ll grab you some; are you alright young man?” Hope sensed the same tenor of anxiety in this young man’s voice that she had heard in Agatha’s.

“I’ve been better. It’s just, I think I really screwed things up with the woman I love. You see, I lied to her about who I was, and then I didn’t even give her a chance to respond to the truth. I really think I’ve made a mess of things, and now she’s out on the frontier somewhere,” Clark spilled his heart out for Hope, who had an uncanny way of getting a person to tell her his or her plot synopses…er life story.

“Well Son, you should meet that little lady over there. She’s having the same kind of day,” Hope chuckled to herself. Providence station only had this much drama when characters form Christian romance novels came through. Otherwise, it was a pretty normal town.

“I’m not interested in other ladies,” he said blushing, realizing that Hope hadn’t meant her comment like that. “I’ll just sit down right here.” The young man sat down at the table immediately to his left, his back to the crying girl by the window. He heard rather than saw the woman Hope had pointed out to him.

Soon Hope was back with a checkered red cloth folded into a satchel with three warm biscuits inside. In her other hand, she held a plate with a steaming hot cinnamon roll. “Thank you mam’” the stranger said. He handed her some money, and started heading for the door. He went to tip his hat to Hope as he exited, but realized he had left it at the table he had been sitting at. “Forgot my hat!” he yelled across the room to Hope. The yelling of the strange young man woke Agatha up from her crying haze, and she raised her gaze from the cloth napkins she’d soaked through with her tears. As the young man picked up his hat, he also took a glance at the young woman Hope had pointed out to him earlier. Both froze on the spot as they looked into each other’s eyes. A wellspring of joy and relief welled up in Agatha as she saw the face of the stranger, who wasn’t so strange after all, and this time she wouldn’t believe any stories about an alternate persona (I.e. Drake Mangerride). She formed the words on her lips that she had wanted to say for so long, “Clarky, its you, it really is you.” Clark’s heart melted to hear his love call him by his real name…Clarky.

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

“…an old man, and full of years.”

Genesis 25:8

Clark rode through the night, and through the next day and the next—the logistics aren’t important. He stopped only for dramatic pauses where he would look into the distance as if searching the horizon for the answers to his problems, for the perfect words to say to Agatha, his lifelong friend, and the woman he loved with his whole heart.

Before he knew it, the landscape became more and more familiar. His heart seemed to grow more anxious as he drew closer and closer to his destiny. He had come home before, but this time, he was truly coming home, bearing his true name, and not a rhyming pseudonym. Even though Clark was afraid of all that awaited him in the mountains, and also the prairies, of Sunshine Salvation Valley, he felt a sense of relief wash over him like Niagara Falls, something he had only read about, but seemed like a useful comparison for his feeling of relief.

Before Clark came to Agatha’s, he knew he had to make one important stop. His family farm started off as a speck in the distance, but grew bigger and bigger as he approached on his horse. He saw Nina, lugging heavy buckets filled with feed across the property, and his mother getting out of their horse and cart, probably after a long day of work in town. He assumed his father was sitting at the kitchen table or lying in his bed, smoking his pipe or having a drink. Clark felt the anger start to rise in up within him, and he did the only thing he could think of to calm himself down:

Lord, help me to have patience with my Father. Give me words to say to my family. Give me strength. Amen.

Clark galloped onto the property, causing Nina to look up from her work. She looked surprised, but glad to see him, “Clay! Clay! You’re back. Oh boy, am I glad to see you. Everyone has missed you sorely, and well, I hoped you’d come back. Momma! Momma! This is that Clay I was telling you about,” Nina’s voice was filled with excitement, and a touch of relief. Mrs. Dangerpride slowly walked over to where Nina and Clark were standing. She walked at a snail's pace, the fatigue and age showing in her stride. As she took her long intentional steps, her eyes locked with Clark’s. Not a word was spoken as she made the long walk over to Clark, who dramatically stayed in his spot. Silence hung heavy in the air, until after several minutes, she was only a few feet away from her son. She looked at his face, squinting her eyes in thought as she gazed at her daughter’s friend, “Clay Dangerpride.” Slowly, her tired and sad features warmed into a rueful smile, and she spoke, “So Clay, are you from around these parts? You seem awful familiar,” there was a twinkle in the old woman’s eye.

“Well, you see, there’s something I’ve come to tell you all…” before Clark could say another word, his mother had taken him into her arms as tears poured out of her eyes.

“Oh, my son. How I’ve missed you! And you were here this whole time! Oh my son, my son!” The joy was tangible in Mrs. Dangerpride’s voice, a joy that had been so long absent from this place.

“Momma, I’ve missed you so,” a solitary tear fell down Clark’s face. Meanwhile, Nina stood openmouthed, taking the scene between her mother, and her long lost brother, who she had thought was just a good friend. She walked over, and took the edge of her apron, silently wiping away the solitary tear off of Clark’s cheek. She looked up at him, and he looked down at her. Then he picked her up in his arms and swung her around. They both laughed with joy, siblings reunited. Their mother smiled as she watched the two. Just then, the door creaked open. Everyone’s blood turned cold, and the joy seemed to leave the place. Mr. Dangerpride appeared in the doorway. Clark was surprised to see that the man looked sober and clean-shaven “What’s all the hub-bub?” he asked, his tone unclear. No one spoke, afraid of what the old man might do. Finally, Mrs. Dangerpride broke the silence. “Well Bart, your son has come home,” she said, her voice shaking.

Clark’s heart tightened in his chest as he prepared to defend himself, and the rest of his family to his unreasonable father. He clenched his fists as Bart made his way towards his long lost son. All of a sudden, something strange started happening: Bart seemed to be…. could it really be? Yes, in fact, the old proud man was crying, and his arms were outstretched towards his son, “Clark, my son, I’m so sorry. I know I made you run away, and I want you to know how sorry I am. Oh Clarky boy.” Years of baggage fell away as Clark made psychological leaps impossible in real life and embraced his father. “Papa, I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” Clark almost shed two tears as he said these words. As the two men embraced, the sun shone down on the Dangerpride farm and a beautiful rainbow formed overhead. The family spent the afternoon enjoying each other’s presence, laughing away years of hurt and pain.

Finally, Clark realized that it was getting late, and he had other business to finish that day. “Well, I have another stop to make. I have to go see Agatha, and tell her the truth,” Clark said the words with more bravery than her felt. Concern flashed over Nina’s face as he said these words. “What is it Nina?” Clark asked, alarmed at his sister’s expression.

“Well, I just got so distracted with all that’s happened today Clark, but, you see, Aggie’s gone.”

“GONE!” Clark felt sadness and panic take over his body.

“She’s gone looking for you Clay, I mean Clark,” Nina tried to say the words calmly.

“I’ve got to go find her. The range is no place for a delicate flower like Aggie,” Clark ran for his horse. “I’ll be back, and hopefully with my love,” he said as he prepared to leave once again.

At this point, the prodigal son theme has been seemingly exhausted with all of Clark’s back and forth trips from Prodigal Wyoming, but the author is not concerned. “Go and get her son,” Mr. Dangerpride said, with more love and concern in his voice than anyone could ever remember hearing. With that, Clark kicked the sides of his horse, and once again, set his destination as destiny.

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“…why does this surprise you?”

Acts 3:12

Agatha Tabitha Freegrace had been running in the prairie towards the mountains for quite a long time. Her heart churned with so many emotions, she felt ready to explode. Why had he left? She tried to imagine what the “terrible thing” was that had driven Clay away. She really couldn’t imagine him doing anything that would require him to leave, and after they had shared the most wonderful times together. Agatha took a moment away from her tears to replay a montage of scenes from her and Clay’s relationship in her head. She remembered the way he’d come to her rescue at McQuickerson’s general, she remembered sharing supper with Clay and her father laughing, and enjoying each other’s company, she remembered seeing Clay hard at work at the farm and helping young Nina Dangerpride along, and most of all she remembered the way he had whirled her around the dance floor at the church social, and kissed her later that night, her first kiss.

After this short montage, Agatha felt completely stuck. What could she do? She noticed that she had run all the way to the neat little clump of trees that had often been her and Clark’s hideout as kids, the place where he had carved their names into the tree. She had come many times over the years, revisiting this spot, especially after Clark left, but it had been a while since she had been here, especially since Clay arrived. She thought of Clark, and almost felt bad for having thought of him so little during Clay’s time at the Freegrace home. She slowly entered the woody enclosure, finding the small clearing where she and Clark had sat together so many years ago. She looked at the tree with their names carved into its trunk: “Clarky + Aggie.” Agatha began to wonder if things would ever settle down in her life, if the endless cycle of pain would ever stop, if she would ever find the cheesy resolution to her story like all the other main characters of Christian romance novels.

Just then, a shaft of light came through the canopy of trees overhead. The sun had moved, casting a new light on the tree that Agatha had been staring at for some time, acquiring one of her characteristic tension headaches. She was just about to let out a sigh when she had an epiphany. As the light shown on the letters carefully etched into the tree, a connection was forming in Agatha’s mind. The handwriting looked familiar, where had she seen it? Several tens of minutes passed as Agatha worked out this mysterious epiphany in her head. And then, suddenly, she figured it out! It was like a bolt of lightning from the sky, like a heavenly messenger announcing good news! Agatha screamed and then fainted, overwhelmed by the weight of her epiphany. She came back to consciousness long enough to say these words:

“Clay is Clark!” Yes, she had put it together; the handwriting on the tree was the same of that on the goodbye letter. How could she have missed it? Clay resembled Clark in so many ways, and of course his interest in caring for Nina Dangerpride, his SISTER, and his familiarity with the area and the people in it. Agatha fainted again, partially because she was overwhelmed, and partially for dramatic affect.

As she surfaced back to consciousness again, she knew what she had to do. She knew that Clark had lied to her, but she had already forgiven him from the bottom of her heart. There was only one thing left to do, go after him! She had to tell him she knew, she had to tell him she loved him. Agatha ran out of the small patch of woods, taking one last glance at the two names etched in the tree. She ran across the prairie, back to the family farm, talked to her father, and was riding her horse east to Clark, within the hour.

Meanwhile, in Prodigal, Wyoming, Clark had made his own resolve. He loved Agatha too much; he hadn’t really given her the chance to react to the truth. Maybe she would forgive him. Fear was no reason to be held back, and the thought of never seeing Aggie made his eyes misty and sent a solitary tear running down his cheek. He got on his horse, heading back to the one he loved, and this time, he was coming as himself, warts and all.

Sincerest apologies from a back to school basket case!

A new chapter will be up in the next couple days! I underestimated, as usual, the amount of work required to get back into the swing of the things for school. So I must leave Agatha running through the prairie a little longer before we find out what happens next. Hey, we'll say its for dramatic effect!

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

“…all your cares…” 1 Peter 5:7

Agatha Tabitha Freegrace woke up the morning after the church social with joy in her heart and the echoes of Mr. McQuickerson’s fiddle music dancing around in her head. She stretched as she shook off her early morning drowsiness. She replayed the last night in her head…what a perfect night, what a perfect guy. Agatha blushed with excitement at the thought of seeing Clay again. He’d probably be up by now, attending to the early morning farm chores that had first brought him to the Freegrace home. Now, Agatha thought wistfully, he was so much more. She thought of the way he’d kissed her, the way his hands felt on her face. The whole thing overwhelmed her, and in spite of her usual reservations against the activity, after her recent existential crisis of faith, she said a quick prayer in italics:

Thank you God for ice cream socials, and Clay, and Clay, and Clay….

Agatha’s mind easily wondered away to her tall dark Clay Rangerguide and the way he’d twirled her around on the dance floor. Agatha looked down at her grandmother’s quilt and its enigmatic pattern. She looked to the beautiful blanket trying to determine the meaning of its design, as she so often did in the mornings. When she was younger, she had traced the stitches like the lines on a treasure map. Looking at the quilt reminded Agatha of her grandfather’s journal. She hadn’t looked at the book since her aforementioned existential crisis of faith, and for some reason, this morning, she longed to flip its rumpled pages again. She pulled out the book from under her bed, where she had tucked it away with her bible and scripture handkerchiefs. She had still been embroidering handkerchiefs, but with religiously neutral comments and sayings, like, “your swell,” and “early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.”

She flipped through the pages of the worn journal, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the feel of the pages, the carefully printed words of her grandfather, and the musty smell of the old book. She stopped on an entry that had today’s date on it, August 17. She read over the entry:

August 17^th, 1864

Today, we arrived in the place we’ll settle in Oregon. I’m standing on the ground we plan to build the church. There have been so many of life’s storms on the way to this place, but now I see the sun coming over the horizon, and I can’t help but believe that the Lord is good, and that he is good all the time. There have been weeks at a time on this journey that I have renounced the very God that I have come West to preach to the settlers, but standing on the ground that he has prepared me for, I see how far he’s brought me, how much he’s blessed me, and I see his good gifts shining like pieces of gold among all the trial this life brings. Amen. Amen.

Agatha found herself agreeing with the words of her Grandfather. She thought about Clay, about the past few months with him. She thought about Nina Dangerpride, and the way they’d been able to help her out. She thought of her father, blind, but doing well, enjoying his life and seeking after God even after everything. She thought of their new strong barn, of Clay’s strong arms, his broad shoulders, his dark eyes, his….naturally, Agatha stopped herself before admiring God’s creation turned into lust.

Agatha couldn’t wait any longer to see Clay, the man she loved, the man that had made her reconsider turning back to the faith of her Grandfather, A.T. Freegrace. She jumped out of bed, threw on a dress, and burst into the kitchen. The kitchen was empty, she went to the table to get ready for breakfast, and there on the table was a note scribbled in Clay’s handwriting with a flower on it. Agatha smiled, wondering what sweet words he had left her. She read the note:

Aggie,

I had to go, because I’ve done a terrible thing.

C

Agatha’s heart fell, and her stomach sickened. Why had he left? What terrible thing? Where was he now? Would she ever see him again? She loved him! She loved him! She loved him! The room seemed to be closing in on Agatha, she had to get out. She burst out of the house and ran towards the prairie, and also the mountains. The tears fell from her eyes like never ending streams. This was okay because she was a girl, and she was supposed to be emotional. She also looked very pretty while doing it, so she didn’t have to worry about happening upon a neighbor and having a puffy red face. Her tears were the outpouring of her beautiful heart, and so they only magnified her outer beauty. She looked toward the sky, held back her head and yelled, “Why?” She yelled it again, “Why.” And a third time, “Why?” Just then, as if for dramatic affect, the sky began to cloud over, and small droplets of rain began falling from the sky. Agatha barely noticed, and kept running towards the prairie, her hair streaming in the wind, weeping for the one that had got away, the second one. What she didn’t know was that the terrible thing, the very thing that had made Clay go away, was the fact that her childhood friend and Clay Rangerguide, were one in the same, and this time, he might never come back.

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“’Until now, you have been making a fool of me and lying to me…”

Judges 16:13

Rain was pouring down from the sky as Clark sneaked out into the night towards the barn where his horse was kept. Things had been going so well, and he’d known the danger of his true identity being revealed, but now that Isaac had revealed that he knew who Clay Rangerguide really was, he found himself in a panic, a criminal caught in a lie, an imposter with his mask ripped off. Isaac had been kind and gentle when he’d revealed to Clark that he knew who he really was, but Clark couldn’t help but be overweighed by guilt and shame. With Isaac knowing, how much more time would it be before Agatha figured it out. As the heroine of a Christian romance novel, she had been equipped with everything but a fully functioning brain, but with Isaac knowing, the chances of her putting the pieces together or finding out had increased. After Isaac had first delivered the words and then excused himself to go to bed, Clark had gone straight to his cot, lying down in his ice cream social best, paralyzed by the weight of the news he had just received. He played out all kinds of scenarios in his head: how he might continue as Clay Rangerguide and hope that Agatha would always be too naïve to know or how he could just tell the truth to Agatha and beg for her forgiveness. However, all the scenarios fell short of what he wanted. How could she ever forgive the lies he had told her? They had been well intentioned at the time, but now, they just seemed like cold, evil lies that weighed like lead burdens on his back. Oh Aggie, his Aggie, Aggie, Aggie, Aggie! Why Aggie? Why?

At that moment, he knew what he had to do. There was only one option. It was the same option that had presented itself to him over seven years ago, and now it sat in front of him again, like the last piece of food in a starving hiker’s backpack. Clark gathered his things into the leather satchel he had brought with him. He left any of the belongings that the Freegrace’s had bought for him—he didn’t feel right taking things from the family he had conned and lied to. As he was packing up, he noticed a pile of Agatha’s hair ribbons out on one of the shelves. He took a short moment, and drank in the smell of the ribbons, realizing it may be the last time he ever inhaled the scent of the woman he loved. He folded his social clothes, neatly placing them on the bed next to the other belongings he was giving back to the Freegraces. He put back on his cowherd clothes, the ones he had come in. Just then, he heard a rustle; someone was coming in the kitchen. He dove into his cot, covering himself and his packed satchel with the blankets. It was Aggie! He glanced at her one last time before pretending to be asleep. She was just getting a drink of water—Clark could hear her pouring herself a glass. Then he felt her eyes on him. She let out a sigh, “Clay Rangerguide…sleep tight and sweet dreams, my love.” She whispered these words, not knowing that he was awake to hear them, not knowing that he was about to leave her behind, just as her childhood friend Clark had done (they also happened to be the same person). She quietly left the kitchen, and Clark continued readying himself for the journey ahead. Finally, he was all ready to go.

He found a small piece of paper and a charcoal pencil. He penned a note to leave for Agatha. He left it on the table, pulling one of the flowers from the vase and setting it on the note. He quietly opened the door, sneaking to the barn to get his horse, as he had been at the beginning of this chapter before he took some time to participate in a flashback and some emotional contemplation. He put his saddle on his horse, and got her ready to ride. He led her out of the barn, and then jumped up on the saddle, kicking the horse’s sides immediately. He faded into the distance as quickly as he’d come, the rain, thunder, and lightning mirroring the storm of emotions and sadness that raged in his aching heart. A solitary tear fell down Clark’s face, but it was barely distinguishable from the torrents of rain pouring from the sky. Heck, he may have gotten away with two tears on day like today. “Goodbye Aggie, my love,” he said looking back one more time at the place that had once again become his home. Then he set his face towards the range and never looked back… at least in this chapter.

Meanwhile in the house, a hastily penned note lay waiting on the table for Agatha to find in the morning, a note that would crush her heart and potentially push her further away from the God she had already rejected. The note waited for the orange sunrise to creep over the prairie to reveal its heartbreaking contents:

Aggie,

I had to go, because I’ve done a terrible thing.

C

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

“She is worth far more than rubies…”

Proverbs 31:10

Agatha Tabitha Freegrace sat facing the mirror as Nina finished carefully arranging Agatha’s hair in a low knot at the nape of her neck.
“There,” Nina said, a smile of accomplishment on her face. Agatha looked at herself in the mirror. She was surprised to see how much older she looked and felt. Here she was, in a beautiful new calico dress with lace collar, her blonde hair arranged like that of a young woman, Momma’s locket around her neck and a young man coming at any moment to whisk her away to the church social—she had to admit, she thought Clay would be pretty proud to have her on his arm, and she would be even prouder to arrive at the social with him. Agatha didn’t want to be vain, but as the main character in a Christian romance novel, it wasn’t her fault that she had been written to be a physically flawless character attracted to an idealized male main character, so she reveled in some Godly vanity at the prospects of the night’s activities. Agatha sighed. Oh Clay, how dear he’d become to her heart. Just then, Agatha’s reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. She heard her father open the door and greet Clay. She looked at Nina and grabbed both of her hands, “Thank you Nina, for everything. I’ll see you at the social!” Both girls had huge smiles on their faces, anticipating the specialness of the night.

“Well, I think Agatha should be just about ready Clay,” Agatha heard her father’s words as she entered the room, a gleaming Proverbs 31 woman.

“I’m right here Papa,” At the sound of Agatha’s voice, Clark looked up. His breath was taken away, and had he been any less manly, he would have fainted at the site of his dear Aggie, blossomed into a woman before his very eyes. Her outer beauty aside, as a good man, he found himself equally, if not more attracted to her inner beauty, which beamed like ten million rubies. Clark was getting closer to surrendering to God every day, but seeing Agatha’s journey made him believe even more in a divine hand guiding their lives. It seemed that God had prepared her for such a time as this, and then brought Clark back to Sunshine Salvation Valley just when he was needed as well. Agatha, her father, and Clark were used to prolonged silences while people worked out their inner thoughts and struggles, so no one was worried that Clark had taken five minutes after Agatha’s entrance to speak.

“I brought these for you Aggie,” Clark’s voice would have quivered if he were any less of a man. He offered her the bouquet of wildflowers he had picked for her earlier that afternoon.

“Why Clay, they’re just lovely. Let me put them in this vase I have on the table.” Agatha took the bouquet, taking a brief moment to drink in the smell of the blossoms, before setting them gently in the vase on the kitchen table. Sometimes, Clark wished Agatha just knew it was him, so she could call him by his real name, and he could drop this disguise and stand before her as her boyhood friend, back at last, her Clarky. However, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to drop the mask that had enabled him to be with her again, to feel the glow of her warm presence.

Thank you Father, for making Agatha.

Clark had found himself slipping into these half prayers more often. They were almost fully in italics, elevating them over just plain thoughts. Agatha’s beauty was overwhelming to him. Clark realized that another five minutes of silence had passed, and that his inner processing was going to make them late for the social. “Well Aggie, shall we? I’ll have her back before 9:30 Mr. Freegrace,” Clark shook Isaac’s hand, and then offered Aggie his arm as they headed out the door, towards the horse and cart waiting to take them to the social.

“You two have a nice time!” Isaac called after them. “She looks just like her mother.” He said to himself as he watched their silhouettes fading into the early evening.

Agatha felt like a schoolgirl riding next to Clay on the way to the social, at one point he’d reached over to her face, and tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. Again, Agatha felt the sensation that she could only describe using terms for things not even discovered yet—yes, it was electric. They laughed all the way there, enjoying one another’s presence.

When they got to the social, they greeted all the church folk. Everyone looked at the beautiful young couple, enjoying watching them wade in the pools of young love. After helping themselves to some of the ice cream, their attention was turned to the festive dance floor, where Mr.McQuickerson on his fiddle, joined by some of the other town folk, were playing lively tunes for the young people to dance to. The tune seemed to match the music of Agatha’s heart, lilting blissfully, soaring, flitting, and gracefully moving with a life of its own.

“Well Aggie, I would be ever so honored if you would join me on the dance floor,” Clark extended his strong hand.

“Of course,” Agatha said placing her own hand in Clark’s (who she thought was Clay). She gave him her hand with all the trust in the world, not only for him to show her a good time on the dance floor, but to lead them into whatever life held for them. Clark led Agatha onto the dance floor. As the music played into the night, Agatha and Clark whirled and twirled around, as if they were the only ones there. Their peels of laughter rang in the night. Until finally, Mr. McQuickerson announced the last song. He began a slow waltz on his fiddle. Agatha could barely handle her feelings for Clay as he drew her body closer to his, her head falling gently on his broad strong chest.

“I wish tonight would last forever,” he whispered into her ear.

“Mmmhmmm.” It was all Agatha could muster as she enjoyed the feeling of Clay’s strong arms around her. As the fiddle finally stopped, Clark took Agatha’s hand in his and led her to the horse and cart. They spent a silent ride home, hand in hand as both internally processed the night in descriptive but mediocre metaphors and similes (i.e. this was a night like a beautiful rainbow coming out of life’s thunderstorm or she was a delicate gift that he held in his hands, afraid to shatter, etc…). As they pulled up to Agatha’s home, Clark stopped the cart short of the Freegrace door. Agatha turned to him, to see why he had stopped, she found him already looking at her. His hand slowly rose to her porcelain cheek, as if compelled by forces outside of his own control. Agatha looked deep into his dark eyes, so strong, so…loving. Clark did what he had longed to do since he had first saw Agatha in the general store, bedraggled and worn out, a prairie flower trampled by the winds of life. He placed his other hand on her other cheek and pulled her face towards him, placing a tender kiss on her delicate lips. As he released her, their foreheads leaned together, as each soaked in the other’s closeness. They did this for a significantly dramatic amount of time before Agatha broke their romance novel love haze. “Well Papa, will be wonderin’ where I am.” Clark nodded in agreement. He helped her out of the cart, leading her to the door. As Agatha knocked on the door, Clark whispered one last thing into his beloved’s ear, “Aggie, you are beautiful, more beautiful than I have words to describe,” his words rang true, landing warmly in Agatha’s heart. Isaac came to the door, greeting the two of them. Agatha excused herself to go to bed, giving Clay one last glance with her bright eyes, melting him like a stick of butter.

“Well, thanks for letting me take your daughter to the social Mr. Freegrace,” Clark said as he came into the house, heading towards his own cot against the kitchen wall.

“No problem son.” Isaac spoke with respect and love in his voice. “But there’s one thing…I’m just wondering, when you're going to tell her the truth Clark,” Isaac spoke these word’s casually, but they carried the weight of the world. Clark’s mind went blank as Mr. Freegrace's use of his real name sank in. He felt caught; he panicked as he looked for the words to reply. It turned out that Agatha’s blind father had seen more clearly than anyone else in town, and the boy come back from Prodigal, Wyoming a strong man, felt like a scared young boy again.

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

“For God so loved…”

John 3:16

Isaac Freegrace held open the door of the church for Agatha, Clay, and young Nina Dangerpride as they filed out from the white building. He had finally convinced his daughter and Clay to come to church with him. The two of them had recently taken Nina Dangerpride under their wing, and so they’d decided to take her along as well. Isaac knew they had come to make him happy, but perhaps enough Sundays being surrounded by the worship of the congregation and the words of Reverend Holt would set something on fire in their cold hearts.

Nina had become Clark (Clay) and Agatha’s project. Just as Clark has suspected, when he told Agatha of his visit to their “neighbors” house, she had known just what to do. “We’ll hire Nina too!” She said with delight in her voice, “But you know, not to do hard labor. It will really be just a disguise for us to get her away from that home, and I can teach her all the cooking and sewing that her Mama doesn’t have time to teach her. On top of that, we can give her a small income to take home. Papa and I always regret not being able to reach out more to my Cl…her older brother before he took the drastic action to leave home, but Nina is our second chance. I’ll go over there tomorrow with you and we’ll get this all set up! How fun! How delightful!” Little did Agatha know that her second chance was already standing in front of her, that the boy who had gotten away was the man who had pulled her and her father out of their own time of hardship. So technically Nina was like a third chance or a second and a half chance.

The next day Clark (Clay…Whatever!) and Agatha had gone to the Dangerpride home and presented the idea to Nina and her Ma. Both showed some hesitance and mistrust, but couldn’t turn down the extra money. Even Bart, who had been consulted by necessity, couldn’t see the harm in Nina “Finally earning her place at this house, instead of humming around to herself all day.” Clark (Clay) promised to help her finish up some of her own house chores each day, which would need be neglected while she was at the Freegrace house. It seemed almost too good to be true to young Nina who had only known sorrow and hardship in her life, but a voice that seemed to be speaking in all caps, reassured her heart, although she didn’t know who it was or where it came from:

I AM DOING THIS FOR YOU. GO AND FIND REST MY CHILD.

And so here they all were, a month later, filing out of the church building, a kind of patchwork quilt family of sorts. Agatha had felt uncomfortable in the church building at first, she felt all the eyes of the town’s people, the ones she had scorned and asked to leave her and her family alone. She wondered what they thought of her sitting in church, whether their hearts were smug with “I told you so’s” or whether they didn’t want her there at all. But by the end of the service, Agatha found herself feeling at home in the church that her grandfather, A.T. Freegrace had set up for the settlers in Sunshine Salvation Valley. Reverend Holt spoke about God’s Abounding Love for each person, that had no beginning or end. She found she still couldn’t accept this love in her own heart, but the idea sounded nice, a beautiful story that warmed her heart although she dismissed it as an artful fiction.

Clark had been moved by the service; the church was like an oasis offering some kind of living water that he had been without for these seven years, and hadn’t known he needed. He still needed to think about it all, to talk with Isaac, but something was stirring in his heart, and it wasn’t just his obvious attraction for Agatha or his sorrow for his sister Nina. A church social had been announced for the following Sunday and Clark was waiting for the perfect moment to ask Agatha. Their friendship had been growing everyday, restored to the ease of their childhood. Of course, Agatha didn’t know who he really was, but nonetheless, Clark was beginning to realize that he might want to stick around even longer than he’d planned, maybe forever…

Agatha looked over at Clark, smiling warmly at him, she then looked down ashamed at the way she so often let her guard down and her feelings show. Mrs. Shelter had always taught her to guard her heart, that was what she had promised to do when Pa presented her with her purity ring (This novel brought to your by the True Love Waits Campaign). But with Clay, it seemed that her heart didn’t stand a fighting chance. Clark’s perfect moment came sooner than he’d expected. Isaac’s voice broke into the fresh Sunday air, “Nina, why don’t you come and guide me over to Mr. McQuickerson, I’ve been meaning to ask him about some new calico fabric for you and Agatha’s dresses for the social.”

“New dresses, for the social! Oh, Mr. Freegrace, I hadn’t intended on going and a new dress is absolutely unnecessary for me.” Nina flushed, overwhelmed at the generosity the Freegrace family continually showed her. There was something different about them. It was as if they were preaching a message of love to her and only using words when necessary.

“Nonsense! The girls representing the Freegrace farm will be dressed in beautiful new dresses, because they deserve it, and it would humor this old man to spoil them once in a while!” Isaac laughed “No come along Nina, I can’t find my way over to Mr. McQuickerson on my own! No one wants to see a blind man wondering aimlessly around the churchyard like a chicken with his head cut off!” Nina silently lead Isaac across the churchyard overwhelmed once again by the kindness of Isaac and his daughter and of course Clay, who had become like an older brother to her, it was if… no, Clark was long gone, it couldn’t be, what a silly childish thought.

Clark found himself alone with Agatha. “Aggie, I was wondering… well, I don’t suppose, well…” Clark was endearingly nervous.

“Yes Clay,” Agatha asked sweetly looking up at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Well, I’m just going to spit it out! Will you let me escort you to the social?” Clark spit it out, all in one breath.

“Well, I would just simply love to Clay,” Agatha was filled to the brim with joy. She’d thought he’d NEVER ask (even though they had just learned about the Social moments earlier).

“Well, I suppose I’ll pick you up next Sunday evenin’ at your, well, our doorstep.”

“I’ll be there!” Agatha wanted to take Clay’s hand in hers. She wished the moment could last forever.

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“Not one of them is alone…”

Song of Solomon 4:2

Clark Lewis Dangerpride rode across the Prairie towards the home he had grown up in. Things had been going well under his alias as Clay Rangerguide. It felt so good to help out the Freegrace family in their time of need. The timing of his arrival seemed, well almost divinely orchestrated, either that or expertly crafted by the writer of this story for excellent dramatic effect. He hadn’t been home yet as he knew pulling the wool over his mother’s eyes would be much harder than his current deception at the Freegrace home. And of course, there was his father. The thought of him made Clark’s blood boil and his face flush with anger. Bart Dangerpride had been the reason he’d left, and the thought of seeing him almost made him turn back for the safety and warmth and of Aggie’s home cooking and Isaac’s gentle spirit.

His thoughts were pleasantly diverted at the thought of Aggie. How beautiful she was! How wise! How kind! How thoughtful! How… in this moment, Clark realized that he was, well, quite smitten with Agatha Tabitha Freegrace, but in a very manly kind of way of course. Lately, they had been taking walks together every evening. They talked about everything, everything but Clark’s real identity, that he was in fact her dear childhood friend come home at last. She’d even mentioned to “Clay” that he reminded her of someone from her past.

Lately, their conversations had revolved around God. Both expressed having sort of lost the faith. Although he was happy to find that he and Agatha could identify on this topic, he found himself a little disappointed that she had given up on this area of her life. It saddened him. If Agatha couldn’t hold onto the faith rooted in her family, since her grandfather A.T. Freegrace had come out West to bring the good news to the Western Settlers, than he wondered if anyone could hold on, least of all a washed up cowherd like himself with an awful past hovering above him like a dark rain cloud no matter where he went. However, he sensed in their conversations that both of them were yearning for something, probably for the God that they were pushing from their lives, but that might just be the manipulative author trying to force spiritual undertones into what could survive as a plain old romance novel.

NO, IT IS ME CLARK.

The all caps voice startled Clark.

I AM WITH YOU ALWAYS, EVEN TO THE VERY END OF THE RANGE.

Clark felt in the presence of something holy, something larger than his broad and manly frame. He would have to tell Aggie about it later, maybe it could help her, help them to find the God they had both turned their back on, because they thought he had turned his back on them. As he rode toward his childhood home, he did so with a new purpose.

As his horse galloped into the Dangerpride’s yard, Clark saw a young women, barely out of girlhood kicking around the dirt in front of the house, humming to herself, her back somewhat hunched, and her hands in her apron pockets. Could it be? Nina had been so young when he’d left. She looked sad and distracted, and Clark felt guilt rush over him. He’d left her here to deal with this all on her own. He’d left her with their father and their overworked mother to fend for herself. She had staid, and he had gone, following his own selfish dreams. A solitary tear fell down his cheek, and not a tear more, as he looked upon his dear Nina. He quickly brushed the tear off his face with a handkerchief that Agatha loned him. In the bottom corner it had “Your teeth are like a flock of sheep just shorn” embroidered on it, which didn’t really make sense to him. If Agatha knew she had accidentally given him her biblically based Romantic love handkerchief instead of the “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” hanky, she’d probably have been mortified, but a little bit pleased.

Clark decided he would approach his sister. He dismounted his horse and began to walk towards the girl. He swallowed back the fear in his throat and finally spoke, “Hello Miss.” The sound of Clark’s voice startled Nina out of her sullen reverie, and she let out a quick scream, than quickly covered her mouth. Clark wondered why? It was then that he heard a familiar gruff voice from inside the walls of the Dangerpride home.

“Nina! Quit making so much noise! I am trying to get a moment’s rest in here. You know I’m not well! If its some strange man, tell him he can have you, but you won’t be of much worth to him. I think he’ll be giving me the better end of the deal,” Bart hadn’t changed a bit since Clark left, and he watched as Nina’s face colored at the cruel words of her father, ashamed to have this stranger hear them. Clark could barely refrain from throwing his arms around his sister, telling her that this man was his father too, that they were in this together again, but he held back. Revealing his identity would have all kinds of repercussions. Already, he had staid longer than planned, and now there was Aggie, and now… Nina.

“I’m sorry Pa!” Nina’s voice was small and trembling.

“You better be, or when I get better and can get out of this here bed, you’ll have it coming to you.” Nina’s eyes moved to the ground, and Clark noticed she was struggling to keep back tears. After a dramatic pause, Clark extended his hand to the sister he’d left behind,

“Sorry to have frightened ya, I’m Clay, Clay Rangerguide, I’m new in town. I’m giving a hand over at the Freegrace farm, and I just wanted to meet the neighbors.” Nina met his extended hand with her own, but still kept her eyes leveled at the ground.

“Well, you sure must be new, or you’d know that we’re not the kind of neighbors you visit around here. No one comes out to the Dangerpride place, and I guess you can see why!” Her voice was tight, filled with emotion and hurt that seemed deep-seated in her young heart.

“Well, I’m here aint’ I? You seem awful normal to me. What’s your name?” Clark tried to gently bring his sister some hope and comfort, as he had been unable to do these many years away.

“I’m Nina. I would introduce you to my Pa, only he’s a cranky old drunk, bedridden with some illness I pray to God will kill him. You won’t be able to meet my Mama, she’ll be working late into the night, cleaning for rich folks downtown. I suggest you move onto the next house.” Clark’s heart cringed at the awful situation he found his sister in, and his mother, worked to the bone as usual. He’d been so selfish to run away.

“Well you know Miss Nina, I don’t come from the most pleasant of places either, but I’m sure that doesn’t necessarily make us as ugly as our pasts. I’m glad to meet you. Your welcome over at the Freegrace farm anytime you wish, you hear?” Nina’s eyes finally lifted above the ground and met Clark’s eyes. She looked at him deeply, mysteriously. Clark panicked as he saw recognition in her eyes.

“Sorry…you remind me of my brother. That’s another thing about this family, we have a runaway son that never came back home, left us in the dust… Well, I’m sorry I keep complaining. It’s been, just, such an awful day, and then Pa got upset. I’m sorry. Thanks for your kindness, but I’m sure you’ll find much pleasanter people to be around elsewhere in Sunshine Salvation Valley.” Before he could interject another word, Nina ran into the house, slamming the door behind her. He had to do something. Aggie would know what to do. Of course, dear Aggie! He got on his horse, regretting the way he’d left his family, but excited for the opportunity to make it right. Clark felt an italicized thought rising up in his heart, and although he resisted it at first, he let it loose, what could be the harm:

Father, help my family. Help Nina.

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“…blind like the servant of the Lord…”

Isaiah 42:19

Agatha Tabitha Freegrace set three metal plates on the sturdy oak table. The smell of roasted chicken filled the Freegrace home and Agatha took the Dutch oven filled with creamy Mashed Potatoes off the hearth, scooping a pile onto each of the plates. She was surprised to find herself humming as she continued preparing the evening meal for her father and Clay. Things had settled into a pattern at the Freegrace home since Clay had arrived. Agatha looked out the window, watching as Clay supported her father as they walked around the farm. It was Papa’s first day out of bed, and he wanted an update on all that had been happening on his property since he’d been laid up with the fever.

Things had been looking up since Agatha hired this mysterious out of towner. Not only had he taken over all of the farm work that Agatha had been struggling through, but he’d also put up a new barn and even had helped nurse Isaac back to health with some remedies that he’d learned on the range. It had been too late for Isaac’s eyesight, but he was gaining strength daily and acting more and more like himself again. Agatha looked over at the small cot Clay had been sleeping on in the kitchen. She went over and straightened the blankets on it, taking a small flower from the bouquet on the center of the table and placing it on his pillow. She was surprised to find herself blushing and smiling like a schoolgirl as she did this. She had grown quite fond of Clay, he’d brought joy back into their home, and she couldn’t imagine the past month without his aid and encouragement. He seemed to know her so well, always knowing what she needed; it was as if they’d been friends since childhood and had been reunited through a serendipitous meeting. Agatha finished setting up the meal, and then stationed herself at the window again, watching the two men. She soon got lost in watching them, sighing as she used to and feeling the familiar tension headache in her eyes from staring for prolonged periods.

Agatha was startled out of her reverie as she heard the front door swing open and the two men coming in for their supper. Her heart rate increased at least 20 beats per minute higher than her resting heart rate. She quickly examined herself in the mirror, conveniently placed right by the window, and straightened her apron and dress preparing for their entrance.

“Well we’re ready for the best homecooking in Abundance County!” Agatha blushed under Clay’s gaze as he praised her handiwork. The three of them sat down to the table and Isaac Freegrace said a prayer over their meal. Agatha sat uncomfortably through her father’s words. “And thank you that you’re always with us, even in our darkest hours, as you always have been with this family since, my father, A.T. Freegrace came west to bring your good news to the settlers. Amen.” Agatha didn’t think that Clay had much of a faith either. He seemed as uncomfortable as she did during her father’s prayers. She still hadn’t forgotten the strife God had put them through, and now, he’d even taken away Papa’s ability to see the world he enjoyed so much. Through it all, her father stayed faithful to God—it made no sense! She knew he’d want to go back to church soon, and he’d want her to go with. No thank you! Agatha knew that she was running from something in her heart, but for now, it felt much better to keep running than to get caught by the merciful heavenly father pursuing her.

“I can’t see it, but I’m sure Clay has built us a right strong barn. All the animals seem real happy and healthy from what I can tell.” Isaac’s voice was filled with gratitude for the work Clay had done for their family.

“It’s my job sir, and I’m happy to do it.” Clay answered catching Agatha’s eye for a second and giving her a small smile that brought a twinkle to his dark eyes and a swarm of winged butterflies to Agatha’s stomach.

“And Agatha, this meal is really hitting the spot. I think you inherited your mother’s cooking talents!” There was no end to Isaac’s joy today. “Could someone pass me some more potatoes?”

Agatha and Clark…er Clay, both reached for the mashed potatoes, their hands meeting on the plate. They looked up at each other, color rising in both of their faces, silence filling the air, as both remained frozen with their hands touching.

“Well where are my mashed potatoes and why is everyone so quiet?” Isaac asked after a minute or so. Agatha and Clark were startled out of their extended dramatic moment and scrambled to get Isaac some more potatoes.

“Oh, sorry Papa. I just spaced out for a minute.” She looked up at Clay who winked at her as he started to giggle, which made Agatha giggle, till they were both roaring with laughter.

“Well what in tarnation is everyone laughing about? You two sure are acting strange tonight. I think you ought to take a walk outside together and get some fresh air.”

“Well, I think that’s a wonderful idea, don’t you… Aggie?” Clark looked at Agatha, his eyes soft and inviting.

“What did you call me?” Agatha had been taken off guard. Only her father, and Clark had ever called her by this affectionate nickname. Hearing Clay’s voice say it had seemed oddly natural, but surprising all the same, as it couldn’t be….no it couldn’t be him. This was Clay Rangerguide, a new friend. A new friend that made her heart race, stomach quiver, and cheeks blush every minute or so.

“I called you Aggie, just a new nickname I thought of.” Clark was surprised at the slip he’d made, using her childhood nickname! When he’d said it, a look of recognition had flashed over Agatha’s face, only for a second, and then it had been replaced by her normal expression of happiness and oblivion.

“That would be nice Clay, we’ll go after we finish this supper I spent all afternoon preparing!”

“It’s a deal, Aggie,” Clark said.

“Yes, Aggie,” she said, melting in her chair. If she’d still believed in God, she would have thanked him in italics for bringing Clay Rangerguide into her life.