Taming the Wind

*** NINETEEN

Tyler spent the day trying his best not to think about his surroundings and the Comanche warrior just yards away. He had tried to sleep at one point that afternoon, hoping that he might be able to find peace for even a few hours, but it wasn't to be.

"God, what do I do? I need some direction here," Tyler murmured.

You have to forgive him, Tyler heard deep in his heart.

Whether it was God's voice or his own conscience, he didn't know.

Forgive? Forgive that savage and his men for what they took from me? How can forgiving solve anything here, Lord? Tyler's silent prayer continued. That man killed innocent people and he laughs about it. He's glad to be a killer.

Glad to cause pain. He's neither asking for forgiveness, nor would he respect it.

The heat of the humid evening caused perspiration to run

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down the sides of Tyler's face. With very little trouble he could have mingled it with tears.

I want you to forgive him.

The voice was nearly audible, and Tyler found himself looking around the room to see who had spoken. There was no one. Despite the heat, he felt a chill run through his body. Was God actually speaking to him?

Tyler looked toward the ceiling. "Lord, if you're talkin' to me, I'm listenin'. But I don't pretend to understand any of this. This man killed my father and his friends--my friends. This man is heartless and cares nothing about the pain he's caused. He would willingly kill again and said as much. How can I forgive him such a sin?"

The silence was nearly deafening. Tyler longed for God's voice, yet there was nothing but the stillness of the room and the beating of Tyler's own heart. He shook his head. "I don't know how to forgive this, Lord. I don't."

What he did know beyond any doubt was that if he couldn't forgive Runs With Buffalo and let go of the past, he couldn't have a future with Carissa or anyone else. He feared the hatred and rage that filled him would destroy any relationship he might otherwise attempt to have. Unless he could put this aside, he was destined to spend his life alone. That would be the simple price.

The room felt as if it were closing in on him, so Tyler got up and went outside. The sun was sinking toward the west, but there was still plenty of light. He walked to the stockade and found that Runs With Buffalo was still standing at the gate. The man looked as though he'd not moved from that position all day. He still wore the same fierce scowl, and his eyes burned with bitter hate.

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Tyler stood in front of the man and just stared at him for several minutes. He couldn't help but wonder at the life this man had known, and for the first time, Tyler actually felt something akin to guilt. Had the whites taken this man's home from him? Had they killed his father and friends? Was he no more than a victim of this vicious circle of hate--just as Tyler was?

Tyler turned away and stalked off across the parade grounds. He walked from one end of the grounds to the other, his heart in turmoil over what he needed to do. Could he forgive Runs With Buffalo? Could he let go of the pain and bitterness that had held him captive for so many years?

He glanced toward the skies and shook his head. "Pa, if you can hear me, tell me what I need to do."

A slight breeze blew and the sounds of fort life carried on the air, but he heard nothing more. No words of wisdom or directions. No comfort. For so long Tyler had imagined the moment when he would come face-to-face with the man who'd murdered his father. He'd imagined putting an end to that man's life and seeing his father's untimely death avenged. But then what?

What would come after that?

Nearly two hours later with only a hint of light left in the sky, Tyler made his way back to the stockade. Runs With Buffalo remained at his post, as if he expected Tyler to return.

"I know you understand English, even, if you won't speak it," Tyler finally said. "Fact is, I don't much care if you ever say another word. I came here to do the talkin'."

The chief narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Tyler folded his arms against his chest and prayed for a moment. For the first time in a long, long while he felt his prayers finally ascend to heaven.

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God, I don't want to let this hate dictate to me anymore. I don't want to give this man another day of my life or another thought. Help me. I can't let this go on my own. I can't be free if you don't set me free.

Peace didn't come instantly, but rather Tyler felt a tiny corner of his heart soften. He wanted to forgive Runs With Buffalo. He wanted to forgive all of the Comanche and Kiowa. He wanted to forgive the men who brought on the War Between the States. He even wanted to forgive Malcolm Lowe. But wanting was only the first step, and Tyler knew it would be a journey--a deliberate walk in God's grace--that would allow for true forgiveness and healing.

"You killed my father and friends. For a long time I've carried that with me.

For a long, long time your actions were like a burden I bore, but no more. I'm not going to be in bondage to you any longer. You may have killed my father, but you will not kill me."

Tyler squared his shoulders and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. He still didn't trust himself not to lunge at the smug-faced Comanche warrior. "I had the opportunity to have you killed. I could probably even put a bullet in you here and now, and no one would say another thing about it."

For the first time the chief glanced at the gun belt on Tyler's hip. It was just a brief glance, but Tyler could see for a fleeting moment that the truth of what he'd said really hit the chief. But just as quickly the moment was gone, and the hardness returned to the man's eyes.

"I could kill you," Tyler said, feeling a certain amount of power. "I could end your life and the lives of your men, just as you ended the lives of my father and friends." He paused. "But it wouldn't prove a thing, and I'd still be in bondage.

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It's better to give this whole thing over to God and let Him deal with it. I figure I can let God have it, and I can just forget about you altogether."

Runs With Buffalo's eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared in obvious anger.

He rattled off something in his native tongue, and Tyler just shrugged.

"What you've got to say means nothing to me. Because from now on--as far as I'm concerned--you don't exist. I've just eliminated you in my own way."

He smiled at this thought, realizing just how liberating the moment was. "In the flesh, you'll be dead soon enough," Tyler continued. "And without Jesus, you'll be spiritually dead, as well. But from this moment on, I forgive you for what you did." Tyler couldn't help but smile. "And that's something you have no say over--something you can't refuse or stop from being."

"You are a foolish white man," Runs With Buffalo called after him in English.

"I will live to see you dead. I will kill you myself. I will kill all the white men and their children." Tyler didn't acknowledge the man. He continued walking away, knowing that there was nothing left to say to the Indian chief. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, even as

Runs With Buffalo continue to yell at him.

William came alongside him from seemingly out of nowhere.

"You all right?"

Tyler looked at his friend. "Better than I've been in a long while."

"You sure riled him. I didn't think he was willing to speak the white man's words." William's tone was laced with sarcasm. Nodding, Tyler continued to walk away from the stockade. "I could stand somethin' to eat. How about you?" He looked to William for an answer.

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His friend seemed to understand. "I think that'd suit me real well."



***

Carissa sat in the early morning light relishing the quiet and reading in the Bible of God's faithfulness. The months spent growing closer to God through reading His Word had helped her to put aside the pain in her past.

Turning the page, her gaze fell on Psalm 5.

Give ear to my words, O Lord, consider my meditation. Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King, and my God: for unto thee will I pray. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up. For thou art not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness: neither shall evil dwell with thee. The foolish shall not stand in thy sight: thou hatest all workers of iniquity.

She let the words wash over her. She read them again, focusing in on the third verse. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.

Glancing to the porch roof, Carissa prayed. "I am directing my prayer unto thee. O God, please keep us in your care. Please put an end to the Indian wars. Please let there be peace. The times are so dangerous--so full of fear.

Let me rest in you, Lord."

She drew a deep breath and returned her gaze to the Bible. Picking up again in the fifth psalm, Carissa continued to read.

Thou shalt destroy them that speak leasing: the Lord will abhor the bloody and deceitful man. But as for me, I will come

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into thy house in the multitude of thy mercy: and in thy fear will I worship toward thy holy temple. Lead me, O Lord, in thy righteousness because of mine enemies; make thy way straight before my face. For there is no faithfulness in their mouth; their inward part is very wickedness; their throat is an open sepulchre; they flatter with their tongue. Destroy thou them, O God; let them fall by their own counsels; cast them out in the multitude of their transgressions; for they have rebelled against thee.

She thought of Malcolm and the evil he'd done. There had been no faithfulness in anything he'd said or done. He flattered with his tongue, but he was wicked through and through. The only good thing Malcolm had ever done was in fathering Gloria.

"And he fell by his own counsel," she murmured. "As I nearly did."

Her thoughts went to Tyler and the ranch she'd purchased.

"Please let him understand, Lord. I'm so afraid that he'll hate me for it, but I did it ... I did it ... out of love."

It was hard to admit the truth even to herself. She had fought so hard to avoid entangling her heart. She wanted to be reasonable and sensible--words that were always associated with her sister's choices, not hers.

Thinking of Laura, Carissa looked upward again. "Thank you for saving her, Lord. And thank you for helping Lucas to thrive." The doctor had come only the day before to declare that both mother and baby were moving well past the point of danger.

Of course with little ones, danger seemed to follow them always. She thought of Gloria and knew how frightened she was every time her child ran a fever. Sickness was so hard on

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children. "Keep her in your care, Lord. I thank you for giving her to me. She is so precious, and my life is better because of her. Gloria brings me such joy.

Tyler ... oh, Tyler brings me joy, as well." She couldn't imagine a more perfect union than with Tyler Atherton. Not for her, and definitely not for Gloria. The child adored him.

"There you are," Hannah said, stepping onto the porch. "I wasn't sure where you'd gone off to. I saw that the biscuits were already baking and knew you had to be somewhere nearby."

Carissa nodded. "I came here for my morning prayer time."

"I can leave, if you'd like."

"No, please stay. I was just coming to the end of my Bible reading and prayers."

Hannah took a seat beside her. "Why don't you read it aloud."

Carissa held up the Bible. "'But let all those that put their trust in thee rejoice: let them ever shout for joy, because thou defendest them: let them also that love thy name be joyful in thee. For thou, Lord, wilt bless the righteous; with favour wilt thou compass him as with a shield.'"

She lowered the book and met Hannah's smiling face. "God will defend us. I really believe that. I know there are those who thought as much and still endured attack and death. But no matter what happens, I know God will defend us." Carissa closed the Bible and reached her hand over to Hannah's. Taking hold, she smiled. "I have such a joy that I have never known until these past few weeks. It seems so strange that in the middle of the Indian threat, I am finally at peace."

"Nothing strange at all, Carissa. God wants you not dependent upon the circumstances around you, but rather on Him.

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These things are just light and momentary troubles." She gazed off across the landscape and sighed. "I love it here. I cannot imagine ever leaving it, yet I know my home in glory will be even better. It seems to me that God's blessings here are just a foretaste of those to come. And His peace is just one of those blessings. Relish it and don't think it strange.

We serve a mighty God."

Carissa released Hannah's hand and hugged her Bible close. "I love him. I love him so."

Hannah studied her for a moment and smiled. "You aren't talking about God, are you?"

"I love Him, too," she said, shaking her head. "But no, I was talking about Tyler."

"I know."

Hannah's matter-of-fact reply caused Carissa to continue.

"Oh, how I want him to be pleased that I purchased the ranch. I don't want him to feel pressured in any way, but I very much want us to be married. To be a family. Gloria needs him so."

"As do you."

Carissa met Hannah's eyes. "Yes. Yes, I need him. I never thought I could love another. I never thought I would trust enough to need anyone. Tyler ...

well ... he worked through my defenses and now I am overwhelmed by my feelings. I suppose my only fear ..." She fell silent.

Hannah finished Carissa's sentence. "Your only fear is that he won't feel the same way."

"Yes," Carissa whispered.

"Then you really have nothing to fear. I know Tyler. I

believe with all my heart that he loves you. If he comes back here and fails to understand the love and sacrifice you showed

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in saving the ranch for him--I personally will hit him with a frying pan."

The seriousness of the moment was broken, and Carissa giggled. "You'd do that for me?"





Hannah nodded and got to her feet. "That and more. You've become a dear friend, Carissa Lowe. I look forward to the day when you are Carissa Atherton. For now, however, I think I'd best go pull out those biscuits before they burn."

"Oh goodness, I forgot all about them," Carissa declared, getting to her feet.

She moved for the door, but Hannah took hold of her.

"You are like a sister to me. I hope you know that you will always be a special part of our lives. This time together--with the men away--well, it's been so precious to spend it with you and Laura. I hope we'll always stay close."

Carissa nodded and gave Hannah a hug. "I know we will."