Lantern of Hope Read online

  She giggled and wept at the same time, then scrambled back to let the foal and his mother unite. Abby curled her head around to lick her baby clean and stimulate him with a thrust of her long nose into standing. Hope’s eyes lifted to find Nick smiling with tears rolling down his face. She shoved a sweat-moistened tendril of hair from her face with the back of her hand, smearing muck across her temple. “Will you look at that?”

  Nick stood. “Sí, Señora Hope. You saved both of their lives.”

  Hope let Nick’s words soak into her adrenaline saturated mind. She had saved her horse and the colt’s life. Her daddy had taught her the ways to care for a mare when foaling, and many, many other small but not insignificant ways to properly care for the quarter horses they raised and the wild equine they captured. The mustangs in the prairie were good breeding stock and made excellent horses for the cowboys. Abby had been bred from one of her daddy’s prize quarter horse stallions, and had been raised by Hope’s hand. The stud had been given to Jude by her daddy as a wedding gift.

  He was an excellent cutter and an extremely fast runner. She expected no less from this little foal. “We should name him Jude’s Chance. But…” Tears filled her eyes. “But we’ll call him Chancy.”

  Nick nodded, pressing his lips into a straight, thin line. “ Sí. It’s a bueno name, Señora.”

  Hope stood, realizing for the first time her dress was ruined. She didn’t care. She stood back and watched as Chancy struggled to stand. After his fifth rocking attempt, he was on his spindly legs. They quivered under his slight weight, but he remained on them. Stiffly he moved one leg, then the other, staggering slightly. He nuzzled into Abby’s underbelly, butting his nose into her and suckled vigorously.

  His enthusiasm for life made Hope smile despite herself. She looked down at her arms. Blue-green bruises were beginning to emerge through her porcelain skin. Her eyes dropped to her filthy wet skirts. “I’ve gotta go clean up and get to town.”

  Nick’s eyes rounded as his eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He didn’t say a word, but Hope understood his surprise. She hadn’t left the house, let alone the ranch, since Jude was buried. “Mayor Faith has called a town meeting, and I’m required to attend. Could you get the buggy readied?”

  “Sí, Señora. You want me to escort chu?”

  “No, Nick. Stay here, please, watch Abby and the colt. I’ll be alright.”

  His concerned eyebrows remained up, but he nodded. She stepped past him to go get ready, again, and he moved to do as she had asked. After a bit, she stepped out onto the veranda in a clean, deep iris purple dress and lavender waist coat, her hair in a braid, this time, wrapped around her crown like a halo. Not exactly widow’s weeds, but a demure color all the same. Mrs. Casterton would surely comment, but Hope just couldn’t care. They were lucky to see Hope Ledbetter in town at all, and they could all just rot in hell if they dared to judge her appearance. She lifted her chin a notch. It had taken every ounce of strength she had inside her to do this, leave the ranch, and Faith had better appreciate the effort Hope had put forth for her cousin’s unyielding request.

  Roland woke. He opened one eye then the other. He was lying face down. His neck felt stiff, it hurt, but so did his entire body. A crisp white sheet covered a thin cotton mattress beneath him. The wall in front of him was just as sterile in hue. He forced his hand to move up under his shoulders and attempted to push himself up. Pain shot through him like hot salt water tossed over his backside. The beating. Phillip had attacked him… with that horrible whip… outside of the horse barn.

  The memory rushed back into his mind. The horse broke free of the stall…Had he trampled Phillip? Prince had run to help Roland… he had fallen, whimpering. Did Phillip beat his dog, too? A gun had gone off! Who got shot?

  Roland pushed himself up, despite the searing torment. “Where--?”

  “Nurse!” An unfamiliar voice yelled.

  He turned to see a deputy rock forward in a wooden chair. He leapt to his feet and hollered out the door. “Nurse, he’s awake!”

  Roland blinked slowly. The pain made him nauseous. He licked his dry lips and pulled his knees around so he could sit on the side of the bed. He glanced over his shoulder in an effort to see what was so wet on his back. Medicated bandages covered his back. It smelled like the cream he used on horses when they had bad cuts on their legs from barbed wire or fighting with other sharp-hooves horses. His heart ached remembering the training techniques used by his partner. He had used that cream on them when they were stubborn against Phillip’s cruel methods. That whip of his, like a cat-of-nine-tails from biblical times, only it had brads at the ends of the nine leather straps instead of nails, could do some terrible damage to a horse’s hide. It must have really done a number on his back.

  The deputy folded back in his chair and shifted a toothpick to the other side of his mouth. A nun rushed into the room, her eyes wide with excitement, but kind. “Oh. You shouldn’t be sitting up.”

  Roland forced himself to take a deep breath. It stretched the skin around his ribs and added to the excruciating pain. “My dog? Is he alright? What happened to my partner? The horses?”

  The deputy chuckled. “You mean Dr. Phillip Payne?”

  Roland nodded and blinked slowly. Nausea lapped at the back of his throat.

  “You killed him, Dr. Malone.”

  Roland’s eyes shot open. “I what?”

  “Great mercy!” The nun stepped between Roland and the deputy. “You’ll get your pound of flesh, Deputy DeMott. Let me examine my patient without you sending him into shock.”

  Roland sat in stunned silence while the nun gingerly lifted edges of his bandages. She nodded as she moved her examination to another area. He breathed shallowly and closed his eyes. The pain in his flesh stung like fire, but the pain when he tried to breath was excruciating.

  He remembered Phillip kicking him in the side. That was when he broke the ribs. He turned to see what damage was done to his back from Phillip’s whip, but the nun quickly smoothed the bandages back into place. “You’ll heal, but there’ll be a lot of scarring. We believe you’ve broken at least three ribs, and” --she glared over her shoulder at the deputy-- “the boot that caused it is still imprinted in the bruise across your side.”

  Just then he heard a faint, but familiar whimper across the hall. “Prince! Is my dog alright?”

  The nun’s pleasant expression slipped into a morose frown. “No. I’m afraid he’s not. We are trying to make him as comfortable as possible, but… we… don’t… expect him… to live.”

  “Let me see him!” Roland pushed off to his feet, wavered, and fell back to the mattress. “I’ve gotta see him, Sister…”

  “Mary Margaret.” Her fists went to her abundant hips. “But you’re in no shape to go anywhere. We’re doing all we can to keep him comfortable--“

  “Are you a veterinarian?”

  “Well, no, but--“

  “I am. Now, let me see my dog!”

  Sister Mary Margaret pursed her lips and gently took his arm. She helped him stand and waited for him to become steady. She walked him across the hall to a room where a soft blanket had been folded under Prince. He had been cleaned up, but Roland could tell Phillip’s whip had torn the flesh on his right front leg. The bone was exposed. His left eye had been shattered. It seeped fluids and covered the side of his face, making his white fur dark and matted. “Oh, Prince.”

  Roland collapsed to his knees beside his companion. He looked deeply at the wound on his leg and then examined the damage to his eye. “Help me put him on a table.”

  “What can you do?”

  “I can amputate this leg and clean up that eye. That’s what I can do for him. Get me some sulphur and chloroform.”

  “Wait a minute!” The deputy stepped up to Roland. “You’re under arrest for murder.”

  Roland gave the deputy a slight glance. “Arrest me later, after I save my dog’s life. After all… I owe him. He saved mine.”

  T
HREE

  The colt’s birth had lightened Hope’s spirits and a slight smile lifted one side of her mouth as she flipped the reins over the gelding’s back and lunged forward. But as she entered town, a darkness washed over her. She saw Porter, a mysterious man with a port-wine birthmark across his face, like a bandana wrapped low to cover one eye. He leaned against the corner of the General Store, as she rode by. His eyes seemed to follow her while is face remained in a slight down turn. He held a long thin tobacco pipe in his teeth, yet there was no smoke. Hope couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man. No one knew him. The children of her youth began calling him Porter, but no one knew his real name. He was a bit of folklore, something parents warned their children about to make them mind.

  A shiver ran down her spine. Her good mood faded with Porter’s sighting. She felt like people turned to stare at her although she met no one’s eyes. She held her chin a little higher and focused on getting to the town hall where her cousin would be waiting. The closer to the hall her horse trotted, the more people gathered on the boardwalks. Were they gawking at her as she rode by? By the time she stopped at the hitching post, the air seemed stale and thick. She touched her bodice ruffle and closed her eyes, concentrating as best she could on breathing.

  “Mrs. Ledbetter?” Luke Coffey’s voice broke whatever spell she had fallen under. “Cousin Hope? You alright?”

  She opened her eyes and looked around for him. He stood near her horse, holding the harness, as if the gelding needed to be stilled. “You want me to take your horse over to the livery and give him water while you’re at the town meeting?”

  Hope let his words sink into her troubled mind. Water. For her horse. It was hot. The gelding had trotted all the way here. “Yes… thank you, Luke.”

  Luke nodded and stepped up closer to her buggy to offer his hand. She stared at it. Could she just flip the reins and let the horse take her back home? His assistance would only hasten her exiting the buggy, hasten her entering the town hall, hasten her exposure to all the women, all the judgement, the scorn, from those who were attending Faith’s call. She licked her dry lips and drew in a deep breath.

  She could do this!

  She stood.

  Her hand trembled as she placed it in Luke’s. He smiled. She pursed her lips into something like a sullen smile. It was the best she could do. She gathered her skirts in the other hand and stepped down. Luke jerked a nod. Hope mimicked him with a quick nod. “Th-thank you.”

  She took another step, inching away from the secure feeling of being in her buggy, poised to turn around and rush back home. She allowed herself a quick glance back as Luke guided the chestnut gelding farther away from her side. She could still run after him and jump into the buggy.

  “Hope!” Sheriff Patience Muldoon called to her. Another of her many cousins in Lantern. She turned a polite expression toward the sheriff.

  “Patience.” Hope stated her name as a form of salutation.

  “Faith is inside, says she waiting on everyone to arrive, even Mabel Bivens.” Patience chuckled. Her guttural laugh was not becoming of a lady, but it was Patience’s non-standard trait, and to be honest, Hope loved her cousin’s strength to be different.

  Hope pressed her lips together with determination. She had promised her cousin she would attend this meeting.

  She was here.

  Several other women were waiting, already seated, and chatting nervously about what this might be about. Many of them shared her same great-grandparents, although William and Isabella Lantern were long gone from this earth. It wasn’t as if Hope would be entering a room full of strangers. Still, she swallowed the uncanny fear that constricted her throat and tightened her chest.

  Faith said she would be offering the Hope Ranch for this event idea she had. She needed Hope to present a united front with Faith so the townsfolk would agree to her resurrection idea for their town.

  She’d promised.

  Patience waited for Hope to approach the door. Hope’s not moving was becoming awkward. A chicken clucked to her right. Widow Bivens scurried past her, fussing at her pet chicken in her arms. “See here, Dell Bell, I told you we weren’t too late. There’s the sheriff and Mrs. Ledbetter right there. They haven’t even gone in yet. You must stop fretting over our tardiness.”

  Mrs. Bivens nodded a salutation toward both women as she rushed up the step and crossed the boardwalk. She paused at the door, took a deep breath, and then entered.

  Hope had to move. She had to go in. The buggy was gone from her sight. She moved toward her cousin and felt Patience’s touch on her back as she stepped over the threshold. Patience entered the hall with Hope at her side.

  She’d made it.

  She sat in the first empty seat her eyes landed on and focused on breathing normally. A gavel hit a desk, startling Hope. Her gaze shot up to the Mayor. Faith’s brother, Cyrus Burke, stood supportingly nearby. Well, Cyrus was Faith’s step-brother and brother-in-law all in one, but he stood beside her all the same. Could it be Faith had needed to conjure as much courage to stand before these people with her inspired idea as Hope had needed to leave the sanctity of her home and attend?

  Faith laid out her plan to bring men into their dying town for an event and street fest, ending with a barn dance. The event and barn dance would take place at the Hope Ranch, of course, and the way Hope saw it, these men would do most of the work, be supervised by Nick Garcia, and all Hope had to do was give the permission. She could remain inside her house or come out and watch the events if she wanted, but her house would not be part of the resurrection plan. A breath of relief swept over her and for the first time, she began to relax in her seat.

  Women were standing and giving ideas for the street fest. As Hope’s mind relaxed from the anxiety of being here, she thought of something that might be a good addition to the festival. Besides, if she could interject some thought, it might help show the town she supported her cousin’s bizarre idea. She eased up out of her chair.

  “Maybe a picnic basket auction.” She looked around to see if her idea was being accepted. No one shot to their feet to oppose Hope’s comment. She continued. “So… so whoever buys a basket can take that lady to, uh…”

  To where? She didn’t want more events at her ranch. Where could they go to picnic and yet remain proper. Maybe she’d let someone else make that decision. “A predetermined location where our elders or…” How should she word this. Nearly every woman in town was probably a widow. Like herself. The weight of that pressed down on her heart. She swallowed. “More mature widows are available for chaperoning, and the ladies can visit with the gentlemen, to-to see if we have any inclination to get to know them better.”

  Did she actually say we?

  Was she considering herself among these ladies who would be allowing some stranger to court her? She drew in a deep breath. She hadn’t meant that. She was just trying to be supportive of Faith and her plan. Hope looked around in embarrassment. She would never be so brazen as to invite some man’s attentions. She loved Jude and would until the day she died. After all, she had his children to raise. There was no room in her heart for another man. She sat quickly. Why had she stood in the first place? This had been a ridiculous suggestion.

  There was a bustling of chatter and questions, but Uncle Harrison handled them well. Faith’s disappointment was evident on her face when the reverend’s assurance calmed the women down, or was it just that Hope knew Faith so well she could read through her façade and know her thoughts. Faith wanted her own authority as Mayor to speak for itself.

  Hope empathized. Thank God she had Nick. He never undermined her authority as owner of Hope Ranch. Even when she married Jude Ledbetter, Nick still accepted Hope’s directions without question, and Jude never changed her orders without first speaking to her about his reasoning, he then let Hope go speak to Nick if she had agreed with her husband. She knew it was a special relationship she had with her God-given help meet, and she thanked God every day for it.

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sp; Mrs. Casterton’s boisterous whisper could be heard a chair behind and over two. “Well, this explains her coming out of mourning. Wearing purple so soon.” She tsked her disapproving tongue. “She’s as anxious to find a new husband as these other frivolous women. I tell you, in my day, a widow stayed in mourning for a respectable amount of time. This just proves our town’s leadership lacks morals and dignity.”

  Hope considered turning to glare at the self-righteous old biddy, but thought better of it. She chuckled to herself when Mrs. Casterton stood and tried to interject her disapproving thoughts. Everyone knew Mrs. Casterton viewed herself and her family as the rightful leaders of Lantern due to her very distant connection to a royal line. Faith’s husband, Clarence had been the one who received the majority vote for Mayor. It was Faith who stepped into his proverbial shoes when he left for the War. The Casterton’s were nothing more than common citizens, but that fact obviously gnawed at Mrs. Casterton’s prideful conscience.

  Faith had a backbone like no other. Hope envied her cousin’s strength once more and sighed irritability. Could she just go back home… soon? Her world was going to be turned upside down soon enough when these participants began their descent upon her ranch. She wanted to enjoy her peace as long as possible.

  Roland staggered away from the table he had used to operate on Prince. The springer spaniel-terrier mix lay as if merely sleeping with a huge bandage on his right shoulder, banded around his chest and surviving forelimb, and a patch over his empty left eye socket. The brads on Phillip’s whip had done a lot of damage to the dog’s flesh and ruptured his eyeball all together. Roland had amputated the leg at the shoulder joint and prayed the sulphur would keep the infection under control. He had stitched up the deeper wounds. It was all he could do, other than pray. Surely God watched over animals as well as He did people.