House on the Steppe

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Daily Writing Prompt

House on the Steppe

Sara stood on the porch of her little house on the steppe. She had her two children, Kyle, two and Georgia, six, wrapped around her knees. Her long skirt blew in the breeze and her bonnet hung down her back. She waved to the approaching rider.

“Daddy,” Kyle said gleefully, pointing in the direction of the rider. Sara bent down and picked him up.

“Why is Jack, coming back?” Georgia asked snidely.

“He is coming for dinner, tonight. Tomorrow he’s going to fix the roof and then round up the cattle for the drive next week,” Sara explained.

“But, when daddy gets home he’ll fix it,” Georgia insisted.

“Georgia, honey, your father was killed in the war, remember? He’s not coming back, I’m so sorry,” mom bent down to her level and spoke to her eyes. “I’m so sorry, but we can’t survive out here alone. I need help,” Sara hugged the little girl close.

Tears fell from Georgia’s eyes. When the two females looked up Jack was almost upon them. He reigned the horse in and tied it to the porch rail. “How’s my two best ladies,” he said, kissing her cheek and whisking Kyle from Sara’s arms, mussing his hair.

Dinner was pleasant. The two children were put to bed and Sara and Jack sat by the fire drinking coffee and making plans for the following weeks. An hour into the evening Sara heard mumbling coming from the children’s bedroom. “Who are they talking to?” she fussed, getting up and entering their room. “You two quiet down and go to sleep,” she insisted

“Daddy,” Kyle said and pointed. Sara looked in the direction of his finger and standing in the shadows was a lone figure. He walked out of the corner and into the moonlight, streaming in from the window. He was tall, had a full beard, long hair, and walked with a limp. Sara’s held her breath and glared.

“Jack, Jack come quick!” she screamed, no one came. She stared into the eyes of the stranger, they seemed familiar. Her mind whirled. “Andrew? Andrew is it really you?” she whispered. He continued to walk toward her. She flew into his arms, “It is you… How…? Where…?” she stuttered.

“It’s me girl. I made it,” he said in his gravelly voice, hugging her tight. “Did I hear you call Jack? Jack Marlow?” he asked astonishingly.

“Yes! He was just here,” she said tears running down her cheeks and dripping off her chin.

“How do you…”

“He said he was your friend from the war and that in your dying breath you asked him to see to us,” she explained. They walked into the family room, it was empty. Sara rushed to the porch, the horse was gone, nowhere in sight. The cattle were all corralled in the pasture and the roof had a patch. Andrew came out the door with the warm coffee cup in his hand. “He was here… Not five minutes ago. I don’t under…,” she mumbled, staring out to the paddock.

“Jack was my friend. We were in the same skirmish, he died, and promised me, he would watch out for you until I returned,” Andrew muttered, throwing the remaining coffee out onto the dirt and chuckled.

2nd Chances: A Book of Choices   Imagine a two hundred and fifty year love affair with a guardian angel and the reincarnated soul of his soulmate. Trevor Brady drowned while pirating on the Caribbean in the 1700’s and was given a chance to redeem his soul. He begins life anew as a guardian of human beings. His true love dies and...
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