He sank to the table and buried his face in his hands. What was he to do? His own brother wanted little to do with him, and why not? Tonight he had nearly put his daughter’s house at risk. He had known it was wrong, but he’d hardly been able to stop himself. If not for Gary, he would have done it. And lost everything once again.
There was no doubt in his mind that he would have lost. Nothing ever went his way. It didn’t matter that he’d held a full house in his hands. Someone else would have had the winning hand. They always did. He was nothing but a loser.
Guilt over how he’d treated his father made Gary uncomfortable as he tried to get ready for bed. He hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, but anger had motivated him. He finally stopped fighting his conscience and went to apologize.
He found his father at the table, face buried in his hands, weeping. Gary had never seen his father cry and found it disturbing. He pulled a chair close and put his arm around the older man. He didn’t know what to say or how to help him. It was clear he was broken and perhaps even contrite.
Gary whispered a prayer, although he’d never been much about praying. He wasn’t even sure he was doing it right.
Help me, God. Help me say the right thing.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Gary said.
His father raised his head. “I’m sorry I ruined your life. It’s all my fault, but I don’t know how to fix it. I’ve ruined everything.”
Gary had never felt more awkward. What could he say? His father’s words were true. He could hardly push aside the confession as unimportant. He was glad Father was willing to recognize his part in the matter. It made Gary feel better just knowing he was finally willing to admit his part. Yet at the same time, Gary felt as if he should say something.
“You . . . you made mistakes. We all do.” Gary sighed. Those words felt woefully inadequate.
“But my mistakes have caused problems for so many people . . . people I care about . . . deeply.”
Gary met his gaze and nodded. “They have, but it doesn’t mean you can’t try to make things right.”
“But don’t you see? I can’t make things right. I can’t. Nothing allows me to go back in time and do things the way I should have—to be the son my father wanted—the husband and father you all needed me to be.”
Gary realized the truth in what his father said. A person couldn’t go back in time and couldn’t change anything that had already been done. What was the answer?
“I guess . . . well, the only thing you can do is . . . ask to be forgiven and start new. Start again and show yourself to be a changed man.”
“But not everyone will forgive me. Not everyone will be willing to give me another chance.”
“No, I don’t suppose they will. But then, that’s between them and God, and it’s their choice. You can’t make people trust you again, Father. You can’t make them forgive you, and that’s the consequence of what you did. Some will forgive you and give you another chance, and others won’t. You’ll just have to find a way to be all right with that.”
Father looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. “When did you get to be so wise?”
“I don’t think it’s me,” Gary said, feeling sheepish. “I asked God to help, and I think He just did.”
His father wiped his eyes. “It’s going to take His help to make this work. I know I don’t have it in me anymore.”
Gary nodded. “Owen once told me we have to come to the end of ourselves. Maybe that’s what this is all about.”
The older man nodded. “Maybe.”
Gary started back for his room, and his father called out. He turned. “What is it, Father?”
“I know I don’t have a right to ask this, but I’m trying to be responsible and keep the hotel tonight so that Harrison can rest for his trip tomorrow. Could you . . . would you mind spending the night at the house so your mother isn’t alone?”
He seemed sincere, and Gary knew this was one way he could start to heal their broken relationship. “Sure. I’ll go.”
“Thank you, Gary. Thank you.”
19
Susanna watched the desert landscape pass by the train window. She hated leaving the Mendoza ranch and the people there. The time away had given her a sense of family that had never existed with her own parents and Gary.
Owen had been snoozing in the seat beside her, but when she turned from the window, Susanna found him watching her.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing. I’m just watching you and thinking how blessed I am that you’re mine. What were you thinking about?”
She shook her head. “How I wish I never had to leave the Mendoza ranch. How I wish I’d grown up with that kind of family.”
He nodded. “I’ve felt that way myself many times. They treat LeRoy like he was born to them, and when I started coming with him, they treated me the same way. My own father never had that kind of interest or love for me.”
“Exactly.” Susanna looked across the aisle to where the boys slept nestled against their mother and father. The train had been so early that rousing the sleeping boys had been nigh on impossible. Even Lia and LeRoy had their eyes closed as if trying to catch any last moments of rest before their day truly began.
Owen squeezed Susanna’s hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll have our own family, and we’ll make it special like that.”
“But we don’t have the extended family they have.”
“Maybe we can borrow them from time to time,” Owen said, grinning.
Susanna laughed. “Maybe. I just can’t get over how wonderful their life on the ranch is and how happy they all seemed.”
“They still have their issues and problems, I’m sure. We saw what they wanted us to see.”
“Yes, but there was such a sincerity about them that I truly think we saw it all. Yes, they have troubles,” she admitted, “but they deal with them openly and without malice and bitterness. My family only seems to know how to act in meanness and contempt. Even Uncle Harrison’s actions are out of selfish frustration to teach my father a lesson.”
“Well, the Mendozas do love the Lord. That makes a difference. We might not all attend the same church, but I know Mr. Mendoza believes quite faithfully in salvation through Jesus Christ. His kindness and good works flow naturally out of his love for God. I think the rest of the family feels the same way.”
“I hope we’ll always put Jesus first.” Susanna met Owen’s gaze. “My family never did. We had our church pew bought and paid for and our faithful attendance record, but God’s true presence has never graced our home.”
“It will ours. You need to stop fretting.” Owen smiled and put his arm around Susanna. “Oh look, it stopped raining. That doesn’t mean there can’t still be a flash flood, though. A lot of times the river will get a deluge up north, and it will come racing down here and overflow its banks. When the season is particularly rainy, you need to be prepared, because when a flash flood comes, there’s no time to arrange for anything.”
“It seems so frightening the way you describe it.”