Free Love Finds You in Lonesome Prairie, Montana by Tricia Goyer

definitely. Brave. Kind and loving. And a hard worker—she must be—taking care of all those children. Gracious to forgive him. And when he’d touched her back… Isaac shook his head, brushing off his straying thoughts.
    But what to do about Horace? He glanced at the Bear’s Paw Mountains outside of town, where the man lived. “Why don’t you take my sister’s wagon back to her and then head home? On your way, do some talkin’ with God. Miss Cavanaugh just missed her train, so there’s no rush.”
    The slouching man suddenly perked up. “That’s right. I can be a real gentleman suitor.” He wiggled his fingers together in excitement and then hopped on the wagon. “I’ll be back fer ya!” he called to Julia, whose back still faced them. “You’ll see. I’ll make you love me yet.”
    Julia rotated toward Isaac from her spot. The evening sun created a candle-like glow on her pretty features, and the wind sent her hair and skirt dancing softly about her. He removed his parson’s hat and palmed his hair, then stepped toward her.
    She shook her head. A slight, sad smile arched her lips. She looked disappointed, but there seemed to be something else in her gaze, too. Gratitude?
    Julia stepped forward and met him halfway. “Guess I’m stuck here for a bit.”
    Isaac nodded, trying to exude as much compassion as he felt. “Yes, miss, you are.”

Chapter Nine

    A grasshopper landed on Julia’s leather traveling boot as she inched her way toward the parson. She possessed no mental energy to plan. No tears to cry. Not enough strength to fear. The only emotion that rolled through her was a bizarre urge to laugh at the absurdity of her situation. When she awoke this morning in the sleeper car, she knew this day would be one of the most difficult of her life. Yet she’d never imagined quite this much turmoil.
    She glanced at the parson. “The next train is…when?”
    The parson’s brown hair caught in the wind as he tilted his head toward her. “Well, it’s supposed to come once a week, but,” he raised his eyebrows apologetically, “it’s hardly ever on time.”
    Julia took in a breath. “Maybe I can send a telegram to Mrs. Gaffin to wire some money.”
    Isaac shook his head. “Let me take you back to the hotel.” His lips formed a compassionate frown. “I think you should talk to my sister Miriam. She’ll come up with a plan.” Isaac picked up his horse’s reins from the dust, clutched her valise, and guided Julia beside him.
    Julia trudged along in silence.
    After a few moments, the parson turned to her, a hint of a smile on his lips “So,” he said, surveying the landscape, “not much different from New York, eh?”
    Julia eyed him, not sure if he was serious. “Excuse me?”
    His playful grin broadened. A twinkle lit his eyes. “I mean, I’ve never been there, only read about it in books, but it’s pretty much like our Big Sandy, right?”
    Like Big Sandy? “Oh!” she blurted, catching his joke. How did he know she needed a distraction? She could play this. “Well, there are many similarities, but I suppose it’s a little different.”
    “That’s what I thought.” Isaac grinned, spurred on by her comment. “See over there?” He pointed to the rickety wooden water tower. Loose planks stuck out and the wood appeared old and worn. Julia wondered how it managed to stay standing with all the wind. “It’s almost as tall as the Statue of Liberty. Don’t you think?”
    “Definitely,” Julia said. “Maybe taller. And so regal, just like the Lady.”
    A rustling sound emerged from the tall grass, and three antelope hopped across their path.
    “It’s the New York Easter parade. I feel like I’m at home.”
    Isaac chuckled softly then placed his finger over his lips and stopped walking. “Look.” He pointed toward the small mountain range to the east, where Julia’s loving new fiancé, Horace, apparently lived.
    She eyed a beat-up shack tucked into the hillside. “Where do you