Chapter 32

Bliss yawned as she set everything out on the table, ready to be cooked in the morning. One more pie was waiting to be taken out of the oven for the next day, and then she would finally be ready to go to bed. Thanksgiving was a busy affair for the women of the Dottie Belle Ranch, as they had to cook not only for the normal bunch, but for every other one of the cowboys as well.

Bliss sat at the table while she waited for the cherry pie to finish baking. Everyone else had retired to their rooms for the night, leaving her up by herself. Clint hadn't wanted to leave her alone after Joe's threat, but she had locked all of the doors and windows and couldn't bring herself to ask him to stay away when he was obviously so tired.

He'd had a very trying day, what with finding out that his brothers were indeed alive and all. Bliss couldn't even imagine going through that. Though she had lost her mother and wanted her back, she knew she couldn't handle seeing her after all of this time thinking her dead.

However, Clint was stronger than she was. He was the strongest man she had ever known, for sure. Daddy didn't understand how hard he had worked for them. Though Clint hadn't actually told her, she had gathered that Joe had asked him to join them again. Clint had turned it down. He had turned down the opportunity to be with his family again for them - to protect them against his very family.

What if Joe actually came back and followed through with his threat? Would Clint be willing to stand against him for her - possibly be willing to kill?

Bliss couldn't ask him to do that.

Part of her wanted to march back there and tell him that his job was finished and that he could leave, but a bigger part of her wanted him to stay. Besides, she had already promised him Thanksgiving and Christmas with a real family for the first time in his life. He deserved that, and she admitted to herself that she needed him around at least a little bit longer.

She smiled, thinking about their shooting lesson. He had been so patient with her then and even the memories of his smiles made her head spin. He was starting to change before her very eyes.

Then, her memory jarred and she remembered the question that Grace had asked him a while ago.

"Don't you ever get attached to people, Mr. Slade?" Grace had asked him.

"No," came Clint determined, emphatic answer to her.

He didn't get attached. He had said it as plain as he could.

Then, her memory flew back to the night in Plateau when he was drunk. She had only known him for a matter of days, but she had felt something for him. She still wasn't sure what it had been.

"You're my only friend in the world," he had told her.

Bliss rubbed her forehead. Clint was one confusing man.

Strangely enough, she didn't mind trying to figure him out. She looked at it as an adventure, one that she enjoyed more than she cared to admit.

*****

Clint woke up in the morning earlier than usual. The sun hadn't begun to shine through the window yet, so he simply got dressed and sat back down on the edge of the bed and waited. His thoughts turned to the telegram in the pocket of his vest, which was slung over the chair at the writing desk in the corner. He didn't want to read it. Whatever he read in there was going to either help his case or complicate it worse. Slowly, his gaze slid over to the thick, dusty book on his bedside table. A need to pick up the book and read between the pages washed over him and drove him to take the book into his hands.

He had always wondered about this salvation and what drove people to devoting their life to the Creator. Clint's knowledge of things regarding God and religion wasn't very extensive, but he knew that there was a God somewhere in the universe. What he wanted to know was what this God meant to the people who called themselves Christians.

Leaning back against the wall, Clint opened the Bible and it opened to the middle of the book of Matthew. The words were hard to understand at first, but he eventually caught on and reading it became easier. He became fully engulfed in the story of this man named Jesus. There was something about the story of betrayal, love, pain, and heartache that kept him captivated long after the sun rose.

Once he reached chapter twenty-seven of Matthew, he was so immersed in the tale of the death of this Jesus that he didn't even hear a knock when it sounded at the door.

Verse thirty-seven read, "And set up over his head accusation written, THIS IS JESUS THE KING OF THE JEWS."

So this Jesus was a king? Why was he dying for people? He hadn't even done anything. From what Clint gathered, he hadn't done a wrong thing in his life.

This made no sense at all.

"Clint Slade, are you even in there? We're gonna eat without you," Bliss' aggravated voice carried to him.

Clint's head popped up and he closed the book.

"I'm coming," he said.

Shoving the Bible under the pillow, he straightened his appearance and exited the room.

He had a few questions to ask Colt when he could tear him away from his work.

Quite a few questions about this Jesus.

"I think it's a fine day for Thanksgiving, don't you, Sherman?" Clint heard Grace ask of Mr. Cooper.

Sherman nodded and grumbled something, his eyes fixed on his newspaper for a few moments before he looked up and over at Clint. "We need to have a talk after breakfast, Slade."
Clint nodded and took a swig of coffee.

For the next half hour, the men listened while the women carried on about the Thanksgiving supper they were planning on cooking. All of the talk of pies and desserts made Clint's toast seem mighty plain.

He couldn't keep his eyes off Bliss. Something about the way he viewed her had changed and he couldn't pinpoint a time or place. All he knew was that she looked a lot different to him now.

A whole lot different.

They finished their breakfast and Clint carried his dishes to the sink.

"Thanks, Mr. Slade," Bliss smiled at him as she put a few dishes into the dishwater.

Clint nodded and tore his eyes away from her face. He had to keep his eyes off her or else Colt would pick a fight with him before he had a chance to ask him the questions about the Bible that he wanted.

Clint followed Sherman out onto the front porch and sat down.

"Tell me about what happened yesterday," Sherman demanded.

Clint took a deep breath, buying time to sort out what to tell him.

"It was Seth alright. I found an old map lying around and figured that's what they wanted. I gave it to them and they rode off, and that's all there was to it," he said.

"They?" Sherman asked.

"There were two of them," Clint answered.

"Who was the other one?"
"Abel. He's Seth's brother.

Sherman rubbed his mustache and thought long and hard. "That's all that happened?"

Clint nodded, confirming the lie.

Sherman nodded. "So they are gone for good?"

"I hope so," Clint answered.

Sherman stood. "I'll have to give you your other thousand after the New Year. Bliss told me that she's making you stick around until after Christmas, so I don't see how you would mind that."
Clint nodded. "Sounds fine to me."

Sherman sighed. "Guess you'll be leaving after you get your pay."

"Yep," Clint said, trying to keep the groan from his voice.

"Where will you go?"

"Back to Tennessee, I'm sure. There's always another job that needs doing somewhere," Clint said.

The sadness he felt inside confirmed that he didn't want to leave the Dottie Belle Ranch. HE had grown attached to the people on it, even Sherman, and didn't want to leave them behind.

Ever.

*****

Bliss and Grace stood at the table preparing food, as they had been for most of the morning. Clint and Colt had walked off somewhere, Daddy had gone back to his office, and Damian had gone for a ride two hours ago.

Damian seemed to be acting weird lately. He hadn't said ten words in two days to any of them and when he did speak it was simple one-worded answers.

"Where did those boys go off to?" Grace asked, glancing toward the window.

Bliss shrugged. "No telling."

"Have you noticed how those two ain't getting along lately?" Grace asked.

Bliss looked over at her as she kneaded the dough for sourdough rolls. "No, not really. I thought they were getting along fairly well."

Grace shook her head. "They might be on the outside, but the looks they give each other when you ain't lookin' are just like the War Between the States all over again."

Bliss stopped kneading just long enough to arch and eyebrow at Grace. "What are you trying to say?"

"You really want to know what I think?"

Bliss nodded.

"They're fighting over you," Grace stated firmly.

Bliss froze. "Me? Why?"

"Are you blind, Bliss? That Colt has had eyes for you for years. It's surprising you two ain't hitched by now," Grace commented.

"He has?" Bliss screeched. "Me? Why would he do that?"

"Maybe you're a likable person, you know?" Grace's nonchalant attitude about the whole thing was getting on Bliss' nerves.

"B-But Colt is my best friend," Bliss whispered.

Grace shrugged. "You're more than that to him, honey."

Just then, the front door opened and footsteps came down the hall.

"Grace?" she recognized the voice before she even saw the man.

Speak of the devil.

*****

Colt stepped out onto the back porch with Grace. She was never going to believe what had just happened.

"Grace, you're not gonna believe this," he said.

"What is it? It better be important, because I got stuff to do," Grace crossed her arms and looked him in the eye.

"Well, Clint dragged be outside a few hours ago and he was full of questions. Apparently, he got a hold of an old Bible around here and started reading. He was as confused as he could be about everything relating to Scripture and Jesus. He couldn't understand why Jesus had to come to die and all the events surrounding that," Colt explained.

"Well?"

"We went up to the loft and I got my Bible. I made it all clear to him, and you're never gonna believe this. I've never seen anyone with as much conviction as Clint. He even had tears in his eyes. He started telling me stories about the things he'd done, the brutal killings that he had committed. He asked me what he had to do to get forgiveness of those things that he had done. I took out my Bible and I showed him what God said. He knelt right there in the loft and asked God into his heart. You ain't never seen anything as beautiful as that. I've never seen such a prideful man break down like that," Colt rubbed his jaw as he told Grace the story.

By the time he had finished, a lone tear was rolling down Grace's cheek and a smile stretched across her face.

"Praise be. We really are going to have a wonderful Thanksgiving, aren't we? Where is he now?" she asked.

"He took a walk. Said he had a lot of thinking and sorting out to do," Colt explained. "He's really a changed man, Grace. I can see it all over his face."
Grace's face dimmed. "What about Bliss? She ain't gonna like this. When is he gonna tell her?"

"I left that up to him. She might run him outta here, Grace," Colt sighed.

"That she might, but we can't do anything about this, can we?" Grace played with the dishtowel draped over her shoulder.

"I don't know what to do," Colt looked out over the back pasture, visible from the back porch.

Part of him wanted to show Bliss how changed Clint really was. He was walking proof that God can really change a person.

She would see that as soon as Clint came back.

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