And Mother. Oh, sweet Mother. Tears burned his eyes. All these years, he had no idea she lay here as well.
In honor of her, he’d plant every possible flower he could get his hands on. Money was no object since his greedy father had hoarded away plenty of it. Wouldn’tthatmake the man roll over in his grave? For Julian to spend tons of his accumulated wealth on flowers?
Julian laughed, the sound foreign to his ears. This day was shaping up to be the best of his life.
All he needed to do was get cleaned up and head into town. He’d order an entire railroad car full of plants and flowers. Tomorrow, he’d meet with Scottie, who had managed to survive on this ranch longer than he had, and then with the clergyman in town. Tell them that his father died. They’d have a funeral service at the church, but the coffin would be full of rocks. Julian would see to that.
Randall Walker didn’t deserve to be buried at the church cemetery.
Damian voiced the words Julian longed to say for the world to hear: “The man deserves to burn for all eternity.”
THURSDAY, JUNE6—WALKERCREEK
Stepping off the stagecoach from Green River, Joshua eyed the small settlement he’d called home for the majority of his upbringing.
Not much had changed in the three years since he left.
He hadn’t warned his family of his arrival, so he’d have to walk out to the homestead. Or see if someone else was headed to that area.
As he made his way down the one street of their little town, a wagon came toward him. With a casket in the back.
Odd. Normally a funeral procession had lots of people with it. But there was one wagon. Nothing else.
Julian Walker sat next to the reverend on the seat.
Could mean ol’ Walker be dead?
Men on each side of the street removed their hats. Everyone stopped moving. The singular sound was that of the wheels as the wagon rumbled by.
But no one followed to the church.
How sad that the richest man in their whole area—probably the entire territory—had no one to mourn him but Julian.
Once the wagon reached the church, people went back about their business.
Joshua headed toward home and then looked back over his shoulder. Mary had always talked about Julian, about how he had a sweet spirit even though his father was an awful man. For some reason, she’d wanted to reach out to him. She said it was the Christian thing to do.
The thought pricked Joshua’s heart. His sister had portrayed the greatest commandments—to love God and love others—better than he ever did.
Turning on his heel, Joshua picked up his pace and headed to the church. Julian Walker wouldn’t be alone today. Mary wouldn’t want that.
When he reached the cemetery, Reverend Mills stood over an open grave with his Bible in his hands. Julian stood stiff as a tree trunk, his face a hard mask.
Reverend Mills spotted Joshua and raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t mean to intrude. Simply wanted to pay my respects.”
Julian’s head snapped up. He blinked several times at him.
Joshua swallowed. “I didn’t want you to be alone, Julian. If that’s all right?”
The other man nodded.
While the Reverend Mills continued, Joshua took a minute to study the man beside him. It had been several years since they’d seen one another. Julian left a couple years before Joshua went to medical school. In that time, he’d grown even larger than his father, who had been quite the imposing figure.
Psalm twenty-three was the only passage the Reverend read.
Joshua hated to think it, but there probably wasn’t a lot anyone could say that was nice about the senior Walker.
