Chapter 42
"Here, Daddy this one's for you," Bliss smiled as she handed her father his present the next morning. Clint had still been too sore to join them, but Bliss had his present put away near the back to take to him after they had all finished.
Daddy opened the packaging and pulled out one of his new boots. The shiny brown leather contrasted against his weathered fingers as his eyes swept over the footwear in wonder.
"H-How did you get these?" he asked.
"I bought them while I was in town last month. The store had a good sale on them, too," Bliss smiled.
Daddy smiled genuinely back at her. "Thank you. I haven't had a new pair of boots in so long. I'm not sure how I'll be able to walk in any other ones."
"Colt can always break them in for you," Bliss elbowed Colt, who sat next to her cross-legged on the floor in the parlor.
"Don't volunteer me for stuff," Colt scowled playfully at her.
Bliss handed him his package.
Later on that morning, Bliss took Clint's small, sentimental present back to his room and laid it in his lap.
"What's this?" he asked.
"It's not much, really. It's probably not even worth calling a present, but I hope you like it," Bliss pulled the chair over to stand beside the bed before she sat in it.
Clint slowly opened the packaging until it revealed its contents. He held the item up to the light and a faint smile broke out over his lips as his eyes glistened with an emotion she hadn't known existed inside of him.
"It's the casing from the first bullet I shot. You stood behind me and made sure I didn't get blown away," Bliss grinned. "It's not a real Christmas present, but I guess it's just something to remember me by."
Clint smiled over at her. "It's the best thing anybody's ever given me."
Bliss' smile found its way to her heart as the look of sincerity shone on his face. She had wanted to give him so much more, since this was his first real Christmas, but never got around to it. His reaction to her simple offering was more than satisfactory. Even the numerous amount of gifts she had received seemed petty when Clint examined the casing so closely.
"Thank you, Bliss. I don't think I could forget about you if I tried, but this will really help," Clint commented.
Bliss nodded. "You're welcome. I'm glad you understand my sentimentality. A lesser man would have brushed the thing away without as much as a second glance," Bliss responded.
Clint shook his head and placed the casing on his bedside table. "No, I have to say it means a lot to me," he said.
Bliss smiled. "How are you feeling?"
"Somewhat better. Maybe I'll be up and out of here soon. The room, I mean," Clint said.
She nodded and stood. "You better bet you will. I'm going to help Grace cook. You holler if you need anything, okay? Colt will probably come and keep you company in a little bit."
Clint nodded.
"Merry Christmas," Bliss said as she lightly punched him on the shoulder, the ever-present smile still on her face.
Clint looked at her and rubbed his arm in mock hurt. "It was merry, until you decided to knock my arm out of socket," he teased.
"You big baby," Bliss waved him off with her hand and walked toward the door.
"Merry Christmas, Miss Cooper," she heard Clint say.
She turned as she opened the door and gave him one last smile before leaving the room.
*****
Days faded in and out without much notice for Bliss. They consisted of the same routine. She would wake up, check on Clint, do the morning duties, eat breakfast with him and Colt in Clint's room, do the dishes, do the chores until lunchtime, sit with Clint and read over the Bible with him on some days, do little odds and ends around the house until suppertime, then clean up and head off to bed. Once Clint was able to walk about on crutches, her days began to stand out a little more.
She had restrained herself from asking questions to her father about her mother. She wanted to know just what he had known and had refused to tell her. She felt sorry that he'd had to carry the burden around all of these years when he didn't have to. She had wanted to share that burden, but he hadn't let anyone in. She tried to support him silently on a daily basis, but what she really wanted was to sit him down and talk to him.
One day the week after the New Year had passed, she revealed her thoughts to Clint on the subject.
"I don't know how he will take confrontation about it," she confessed. "I want him to feel like he can come to me on his own when he feels ready."
She had Clint sat alone at the kitchen table one early Saturday morning right after breakfast. He was growing stronger and was mostly healed, but he still favored his sore leg.
Clint rubbed his forefinger over his upper lip in thought. "Have you thought that he might not ever be ready to come to you?"
Bliss shrugged. "I guess. It hurts that he wouldn't trust me though, even after I've proved myself ready."
"It's harder for a father to see, sometimes. Even though I don't agree with his methods, he's just trying to protect you," Clint told her.
She sighed. "I know. That's another reason why I don't want to approach him. I don't want to appear ungrateful by demanding answers. I've tried that before and it did nothing but hurt him."
Clint thought a moment. "Personally, I don't know what to tell you other than to pray and think about it. After all, he is your father and you know him best. I wish I could tell you what I would do, but I honestly don't know."
Bliss looked up at him across the table. "I think you're right. I guess I just needed to voice my thoughts."
"I don't mind a bit. Whatever your decision, I'll be here if you need me... at least until Friday," Clint sighed.
Bliss felt her heart sink. "You finally decided when to leave?"
Clint nodded. "That cowboy should be back any day now with the trial verdict of my brothers, and then my job here will be done."
Bliss found her hand tightening around the other as she clasped them both in her lap.
God, I'm not ready to let him go.
"Are you sure you have to leave so soon?" she asked.
Clint nodded. "I'm not one to wear out my welcome."
"I don't think you can ever do that at the Cooper house," Bliss commented.
Clint smiled faintly. "Thanks."
Bliss searched his eyes for any hint of his thoughts, but he had trained himself well. His eyes didn't reveal a single thing about his feelings. They never had, why should they start now?
Because I can't deny my own feelings while wondering if he has the same ones.
*****
Clint gripped the newspaper in his hand until the page crinkled permanently. He reread the headline until it finally sunk in.
Bliss peered over one of his shoulders while Colt read over the other. Neither spoke a word until she was sure that he had read the same thing they did.
"You okay, Clint?" Bliss asked.
Clint nodded slowly and stiffly, his eyes not leaving the paper in his hand.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, rubbing his shoulder with the palm of her hand.
Clint blinked a few times. He knew that they would hang him. He knew that Joe would plead guilty to prevent a lengthy trial. He had known it all along, but it didn't ease the pain any less.
"I begged him to think about accepting the Lord. I would have gotten down on my knees if I'd thought it would make a difference. I tried to save him..." Clint made himself stop speaking before he got choked up.
Bliss' hand traveled from his shoulder, down his arm, until she caught his hand in hers. She squeezed tight, as if willing some strength into him, but it didn't help. Clint still felt hopeless.
"God puts us through certain trials, knowing what will help us grow and what will hurt us," Colt said. "He knows what will make us bend, and he knows what will make us break. God deals with rejection every second of every day, and yet he reaches out to the others just the same. You may not have been able to get through to Joe, but you have another brother, Abel. I think you might have made an impression on him. Even if you didn't, he get out of jail in fifteen years. In the meantime, you are surrounded my people you can help every day. Joe may be out of our reach now, but you can't give up, Clint. There's so much more you can do."
Colt's words seared through Clint like a hot iron and branded their mark of truth on his heart. His spirits lightened some, but he knew that it was a long road to forgetting about what he had lost. He knew that there were still plenty of sleepless nights ahead to be spent worrying over the eternal fate of his brother, but he also knew that there was a Healer. A Helper who would give him the strength he couldn't find on his own.
He knew that there was a Hope.
*****
"Daddy, can I ask you something?" Bliss sat in the chair across from her father in his office, trying to convince herself that this was the right decision.
"Sure, honey," Daddy crossed his hands in front of her and leaned forward.
Bliss took a deep breath.
God, give me the words. I don't want to upset him.
"I've been meaning to ask you something for a while, but it's taken me a while to... to... gather up the courage. You remember the day that Momma died, don't you?" Bliss stalled in order to think.
Daddy nodded slowly. "Why?"
"Well, when Clint and I were on top of Almighty around the place where she died, we found some things. A belt buckle, which we found the source of, and this," Bliss handed him the rusty pocketknife that he had used to own.
Daddy's eyebrows pulled together as he examined the item. "Well, I declare," he mumbled.
Bliss froze for a moment before her father looked up. He had no anger in his eyes, no confusion, just sadness.
"I gave this to her the day before she died. She was complaining about how she never had a pocketknife around when she needed one for this or that. She would always have to come find me and she hated taking the time away from what she was doing. I gave her this," he explained.
Bliss rested easier. "What did she say before she went riding that day?"
Daddy leaned back and inhaled deeply, studying her. "I guess you should know. Another reason why I never spoke of your mother all of these years is... b-because I thought you would blame me."
He pushed himself to his feet and went to stand by the window, looking out of it with his back to her. Bliss waited patiently, not wanting to pressure him while he was in the divulging mood.
She waited for a few minutes while her father did nothing but stare out of the window and think.
"We had an argument," he finally said. "I can't even remember what it was about. Something silly, probably. Somehow, I made her fighting mad and she mounted her horse and rode off. I grew worried about three hours later when she never showed up. I felt bad about leaving things the way they were, so I rode off to find her. When I finally found her, it was too late to do anything," his voice hitched on the last word. Hr turned and faced Bliss. "For the last ten years I've kept it all from you because I was afraid that you would blame me... just like I blamed myself. I thought that it was something that said in my anger to her - something that I implied - that made her jump over the edge. It never occurred to me that one of her men would actually come back with the intent of hurting her. She had never even gave me reason to worry and I had never even met her gang, so I didn't know their character. I thought that she had settled their affairs before she split up with them, but it appears that she hadn't. I wish I hadn't been so stupid, Bliss. I wish I had told you everything and made you understand. You were left in the dark too long."
Bliss sighed as her father finished speaking. He trusted her enough to come clean about this regrets. She stood up and walked over to him.
"It's all in the past now, Daddy. If there's one thing that this whole ordeal has taught me, it's to forget about the past and anticipate the future," she put a hand on his arm.
Daddy put his hand over hers and looked over at her. For the first time since her mother died, Daddy felt like a father to her. A true father.
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