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homestead.   He looked tired and extremely thin, but he was smiling.
    Clae shook his hand.   “How do you do, Thomas?”
    Mr Niedham shook his head.   “Well, that depends on which way you look at it.   You got a couple of minutes to talk business?”  
    “Of course.   Come inside.”
    They all trooped into the house, stamping their feet against the cold, and Josie stoked the fire to boil water.
    Once they were all seated with coffee and warmed-over biscuits, Clae said, “Now, what can I do for you?”
    In between large bites, Mr Niedham explained that he and his family had come west with high hopes but a severe lack of knowledge, and although they had successfully worked their claim for the required time and the land was now theirs, a series of errors and general mismanagement had meant that their harvest each year had decreased.   This year, it had been so poor that he knew his family could not survive another winter.   That very morning, he had been offered a job back east, and he and his wife had decided to return home.   The decision had clearly relieved him of all his burdens but one:   he needed to sell his farm as quickly as possible.
    “So I’d like to offer you and your brother first option,” he said.   “It’s plain you’ve done wonders with your land, and it may be you can make something of the mess I’d be leaving you.   Won’t be asking much for it, of course.   Just enough to get the family back east and settled.”
    Clae’s eyes were sparkling, and Josie knew what he was thinking.   160 acres was more than enough land to support a family in the usual way, but not enough for truly commercial purposes.   But two, adjoining homesteads – that was a golden opportunity.   If the two McKinley families could join the farms and pool their resources….   Josie’s heart thumped in her chest.
    “What might you be thinking about that?” pressed Mr Niedham.
    Clae was pacing the floor, deep in thought.   Something outside caught his attention and he went to the window.   A wide smile spread across his face.   “I’d need to discuss it with my brother, of course, but since that’s him coming along the road right now, accompanied by the little lady who is, I do believe, his future bride, your offer just might be an answer to prayer.”  



CHAPTER EIGHT

Olive Plants

    F OR J OSIE AND Clae, the happy occasion of Harland and Beth’s betrothal and the blessing of the   Neidham farm were welcome distractions from their continuing disappointment.   The doctor could give them no answers, and none of Millie’s home remedies worked.
    All around Josie were constant reminders.   Helena had her baby, a boy, as did several other women from the church.   Millie’s pregnancy was progressing well, and she was now allowing herself to plan for it.   On some days, the children in the school were a welcome panacea for Josie; on other days they troubled the painful emptiness in her heart.
    Still, morning and night, she and Clae would read the 128th Psalm aloud and remind each other to speak as if the miracle, a child, was already theirs.
    One Tuesday, Josie and the Drescher children were on their way to the schoolhouse when the prisoner wagon rattled past them and stopped up ahead at the sheriff’s office.   The rear door was opened and Josie was horrified to see Davis Judson pulled from the wagon and half-dragged into the building.
    The news soon got around town.   Davis Judson had been arrested by Wyatt Earp for the recent thefts.   Earp and another deputy had visited the farm that morning and found Davis in a drunken state.   When Davis saw Earp, he tried to raise his rifle, but in his condition his movements were slow.   Earp stepped up and pistol-whipped him.  
    Davis later confessed to all the thefts, claiming over and over that he had only done it to keep his wife and son alive.
    William Drescher and Walker Jones, owner of the general store, immediately went out to the Davis farm