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The Stronghold: The Circuit Rider Series, Part Three
The Stronghold: The Circuit Rider Series, Part Three
The Stronghold: The Circuit Rider Series, Part Three
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The Stronghold: The Circuit Rider Series, Part Three

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Saddle up and ride on! The adventure continues with JL and Maddie, set in the times of the Old West in the Oregon Trail town of the Dalles. Their lives and adventures take them to many far-flung places and some unexpected predicaments. Life now is a series of physical, emotional, and spiritual adventures that they never could have imagined—but God knows best. In this story, JL finds himself in a place called the Stronghold, an unexpected place of trial, victory, and joy. As with the other books, this story happens in real places you can visit today.

Get ready for the fourth installment coming soon, which is Fort Rock.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherWestBow Press
Release dateApr 29, 2019
ISBN9781973659617
The Stronghold: The Circuit Rider Series, Part Three
Author

Dennis Ellingson

Dennis Ellingson has served as a pastor and a counselor. He is the author of the first of the Circuit Rider Series, “The Painted Hills” and “Hells Canyon”. He is also the best selling author of the book “God’s Healing Herbs” plus “God’s Wild Herbs” and “The Herb Guy’s Cookbook”. He has written additional books including “The Godly Grandparent”. Dennis is a born and raised Oregonian who loves to explore God’s creation. He and, his wife, Kit reside in Southern Oregon and Arizona.

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    The Stronghold - Dennis Ellingson

    Copyright © 2019 Dennis Ellingson.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

    Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible

    WestBow Press

    A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.westbowpress.com

    1 (866) 928-1240

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

    ISBN: 978-1-9736-5962-4 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-9736-5961-7 (e)

    WestBow Press rev. date: 04/17/2019

    Contents

    Introduction

    Chapter 1 – The Call

    Chapter 2 – Gone but not Lost

    Chapter 3 – The Way Made

    Chapter 4 – Those That Deceive

    Chapter 5 – In Due Season

    Chapter 6 – The Reckoning

    Chapter 7 – The Unknown One

    Chapter 8 – His Mysterious Ways

    Chapter 9 – Giving Hope

    Epilogue

    An Ancient Wind

    Hovering over the top of the ridge, the Wind waited for the beginning

    of a new day, knowing the sun would appear over the eastern mountains,

    just as it had for thousands of years.

    Wind waited and remembered. He remembered the days that the rocks ran red, burning the land and anything else it could reach.

    Slowly the glowing rocks turned dark as it cooled,

    leaving behind the stark blackened landscape.

    Memories of running his fingers through the wool of the sheep that once ran on the ridge of the mountain that he waited above. Listening to the sounds of the songs of the old ones, as they sang their sacred songs in the Cave of the Ferns.

    A long cold winter that drove the wind to stir the smoke of the fires of those

    hiding in the caves, and the fires of those who had driven them into the caves. That had been a time the Wind would have liked to have forgotten, for the Old Ones rarely came anymore and there were no more songs in the Cave of the Ferns.

    The memories belonged in the past, for today was a new day.

    A day to plan what he would do and where he would go. So many caves to choose from, to rustle the hair of those who were exploring the caves,

    and chilling the hands and faces of those in the ice caves.

    To make the soothing sounds as he rushed through the caverns, past the trees, and around the deer that spotted the landscape. His sounds would make the ears of the deer stand at attention, and make the explorers wonder what the wind would bring in the way of weather.

    It was a good day to be an Ancient Wind, and finally there was the sun

    peeking over the mountains, a great day indeed.

    Debi Leighton

    Introduction

    J ust south of the Oregon/California border and in the Northeast corner lies a broad land made up of some of the most intriguing places you will ever visit in North America. One such place is Tulelake. It was once a large fresh water sea and part of the great Klamath Lake system. Today it is smaller but no less intriguing. It is a haven to the avian populations and the bird watchers that come to spy on them.

    It is used extensively by farmers who do their best to feed us, our pets and stock animals. As it seems in many places, water issues are always going on. Some feel that other issues are more important that feeding the world. Why do they think that way? I wonder but then I am not a politician in D.C. or a left wing environmentalist from some big city with a judge in my pocket so what do I know. Well, I do know this though, any effort to halt a legitimate farming or ranching concern should be considered downright criminal.

    South of that area, up in the hills leading to Medicine Mountain is a punctured land known as the Lava Beds National Monument. What makes this place so intriguing is that it is where the lava flowed, much of this underground. These lava tubes or caves are many and varied and surprising in the beauty and their contents. Out that same way is a place known as Captain Jack’s Stronghold. A nearly impenetrable rock fortress composed of an old volcano.

    This place became famous when a band of murdering renegades hid out in this stronghold for many months as the U.S. Cavalry tried to figure out a way to breach the stronghold. In the end, they did, arrested Captain Jack and others, hauled them off to Fort Klamath in Oregon, tried them and summarily executed them. The furor over this event has not yet died down today.

    We have visited this area many, many times. We have hiked through the stronghold, much of the caves and explored the waters of Tulelake. I never get tired of visiting this rich and hostile land. So it seemed to me, because of its rich geography and history, that to continue our story of John Mark Luke Matthews, we should place him there. How he gets to such a place, well that is the story.

    My hope is that with this book, you will travel here as well. Just like you may have visited The Columbia River Gorge, The Painted Hills and Hells Canyon you can visit this place. More importantly, I hope this long tale of a man and his wife will inspire you on the narrow trail that Jesus calls us to.

    Chapter One

    The Call

    I charge thee therefore before God, and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge the

    quick and the dead at his appearing and his kingdom;

    ² Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with

    all long suffering and doctrine. 2nd Timothy Ch. 4:1-2

    T aking care of two little girls certainly had one’s hands full. Most of the time it was such a blessing, other times, frustrating, always noisy for sure and plenty of surprises along the way. Maddie pondered this one afternoon, on the front porch, after those same two were down for a nap. And she pondered this last year. She could barely imagine that such events could have taken place.

    For one long year she and her husband, J.L. Matthews were at odds and he was mostly out of the picture. But the Lord intervened and now their marriage was as rock solid as one could be, she believed. He, certainly, had turned over a new leaf.

    There had been the perilous adventures for them both. There had been unforgettable moments for both, the life of the late Rev. Gideon Thomas one of the foremost memories. J.L. had traveled to such out of the way places as The Painted Hills and Hells Canyon and many stops in between. She, too, had seen much. Carved in her mind for all time was the discovery of those two little girls deeply asleep under the seat of that Conestoga wagon, their parents laying dead not too far away. Now they called her Mommy and knew no other.

    This last year had meant a time of adjustment that could not be imagined. For reasons she was not quite sure of, she thought of Mary, the mother of her Lord and Savior, Jesus. She was recalling that after the birth of Jesus, on that very night, after Shepherds and Angels, Mary cherished these things in her heart, feeling blessed beyond measure. While Maddie would never compare herself to Mary she thought perhaps she had an inkling of what that might have been like. There was the good with the bad, the hard with the easy and the incomprehensible nature of God and His plan, to realize that she, too, cherished it all.

    She did not get too much longer to think of this as J.L. came riding Gus the horse in at a good pace. Goliath, the big dog, was not too far. The dog had insisted earlier on going into town with him. J.L. had spent a half day working at the Blacksmith, then it was to the General Store, which was a much more common occurrence, he thought, now with those two little girls. Not that he minded, He had come to believe that in some way he couldn’t quite explain, that a man with daughters became a changed man – and for the better.

    While at Swen’s the Blacksmith, the delivery boy from Western Union delivered J.L. a telegram. It was one he had been expecting but the thought of it had been on the ‘back burner’, so to speak, for some time. Life was just so busy it was hard to think much more than just about the here and now.

    On J.L.’s short ride home to Chenoweth that day, he was lost in his thoughts about all that had taken place too. Amazed truly because even though things were much different than a year ago, and people told him how much different he was, he knew, on the inside, that perhaps, he wasn’t so different.

    He certainly had come to believe that somehow God was all involved in what had taken place. The reality is that he would have been dead otherwise. His ways had certainly gotten that bad. He worked hard now, to be the man he knew he should be, but he felt that he just wasn’t cutting it. And lately, although he fought it for all it was worth, to stop into the saloon and have a few beers was a strong hankering than nearly overtook him on some days. He would pray through these and sometimes that prayer being nothing more than, Lord, please! But today he knew he was sober, as he was yesterday and the day before. There was no guarantee regarding tomorrow, but somehow, as the days piled up he believed that this meant something for the future.

    Upon lighting from his horse, Maddie arose from the chair she had been sitting on and gave her husband a big hug and went for a peck on the lips but a paper brushed up against her cheek from J.L.’s shirt pocket.

    What’s this?

    Oh, a telegram.

    Did you read it and who is it from? prodded Maddie. She was always waiting to see if there was more word from the relatives back east of the little girls.

    It is from the Thomas family.

    Oh, about what we talked about last fall?

    Yep, I need to read it again.

    Maddie snagged it out of J.L.’s pocket before he had a chance.

    Hope this finds you both well. There is a conference in April, the 25th. You would meet with leaders too. Maddie can come. Letter to follow, Maddie read.

    That is just a couple of weeks away. You will go, won’t you, J.L.? prompted Maddie.

    I guess, but you would go too, right? J.L. asked.

    Hum, sure … I think, about the girls though. I guess it would be a whole week away

    There would be no decision made at that moment as two tousled haired, sleepy heads emerged outside. Esther, the littlest one, was quick to want Maddie to pick her up. Rachel was happy to spend some time with the big dog. And even though it was a warm day for early April, both little girls were shivering until J.L. gathered them in his great arms and took them in.

    As he readied to exit back out he said, I guess I will be seeing about firewood. And Jacob should be home from school shortly too. Evening chores call, Now he was headed towards the barn leading his horse. Goliath, however, was so happy to see his favorite play mates up that he followed them into the house. It wasn’t long before J.L. could hear happy screams from the little girls and Goliath submitted to whatever play they wanted him for. He was even known to wear a bonnet and apron now and then.

    That evening they gathered for supper. Jacob had much to share about the day’s happening except for a girl named Rebecca that Maddie had gotten wind of and nudged him about. J.L and Maddie loved these moments around the table.

    After that it just seemed to be cuddle time as Maddie would read or tell stories. On nights like these, when it was still cold out, snuggled together in blankets around the fireplace just seemed like the place to be. Goliath agreed with that and was always in the middle of the situation. Often the little ones would fall asleep before a story was complete. Then Maddie and J.L. would haul them off to bed. Jacob, while sometimes complaining, really liked being a big brother.

    The next morning was Saturday and everyone was home. It was a family day but also things to do to get ready to take three children to church and food ready for a monthly potluck. And there were always something that needed to be done. Jacob and J.L. had spent the morning in the barn. After dinner Jacob begged to go visit Mr. Larson. Rachel and Esther were down for a nap and on a sunny afternoon Maddie and J.L. took to chairs out on the front porch. Both, for some time, were just happy to take in the scenery as spring began to show its colors in the Gorge country. From where they sat they could clearly see the hills that bordered the Washington side of the Columbia. The oaks were still bare but began to hit of new buds and the promise of spring. To the west of them and at this time of year the Chenoweth Creek made quite a racket with the melt of winter snow. Far below, here and there, were views of the great Columbia River. It was a huge river that ran wild and free and a river that provided much for those hearty souls that called this place home.

    They both often marveled how blessed they felt to live in such beautiful place, especially after the winter had passed.

    It’s a far cry from Virginia. J.L. said, probably for the umpteenth time. Not saying it wasn’t pretty country sure was.

    True, but this place feels more like home to me that Virginia ever did. Not that I would have known the difference if we had stayed – I would have been content. But that fresh start seemed so important, said Maddie.

    It wasn’t quite as we had figured though. J.L. said in a melancholy moment.

    No, not at all, John, but this last year … well, God has just blessed us.

    That He has … I guess, I mean, of course.

    I’m still not sure about that conference in Portland? Maddie nudged.

    I should go, I don’t have to say ‘yes’. And I guess you should go too. That would make the most sense.

    Are you sure you want me to go John?

    Sure, uh, we haven’t been to Portland so if would be good to see such a big city, I guess.

    We would have to be gone the better part of a week, I would think, wouldn’t we?

    Yep, think so, a couple of over nights out, then two or three days there and then back home.

    I could get Mrs. Valdez to come in – I am sure that would be fine for the little girls. Mrs. Valdez was a frequent visitor, often stopping by at just the right moment to lend a helping hand it seemed.

    You would be fine with that? asked J.L., cocking his head toward Maddie.

    No reason to not be … Maddie trailed off.

    The reality was J.L. wasn’t sure why he didn’t really want Maddie to go. Maddie wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to go and yet felt she really should. She knew this for sure, being away from the three children just is something she just didn’t want to do at this point. They all had been through so much. They danced around the subject but come next morning the decision was made that J.L. would go on his own. They had no idea at the time how that decision would impact them. Had they gone together, things may have been very different but God looked on.

    Sunday morning was a rush of activities to get breakfast, get two girls ready for church and make sure Jacob looked presentable. But soon the family was off for the short ride to church in the old buckboard.

    As usual, these days, there were lots of comments from the patrons about how big Jacob was getting and how the girls were so pretty in their gingham dresses and bonnets.

    This morning, after hymns, prayers, announcements and the other things that make up a service, the pastor rose and turned to the book of Jonah. It was a familiar account to all and always a good reminder, as the pastor said, Verily I say to you, you cannot run too far or too fast, to out run God. Wherever you are going, He will be there, when you get there. So don’t try.

    But J.L. was preoccupied in his thoughts and barely heard all that the pastor had to say. But the word of God has a way of sticking in one’s craw even when he is not aware of it.

    ~ ~ ~

    Over the next two weeks the conference was talked about, but there was this unspoken agreement between Maddie and J.L. that she would stay home. The conference was to start on a Tuesday and run for three days. With that in mind J.L. decided to leave the Saturday before, thus allowing him time to arrive in Portland. He had never been there before and it was hard to imagine. He knew that it was becoming quite the city resting along the Willamette River extending up in to the hills. The church that the function was to be held was right in downtown so he thought this wouldn’t be so hard to find. The Thomas’ had arranged for lodging for him in a building next to the church. And like most churches, he wasn’t too worried about going hungry. Church people seemed to eat well.

    That Saturday came and, as usual, it was hard to say good bye. All were relieved that ‘Pa’ would be home on Saturday. And expecting that there could be a few gifts from the big city as well. J.L. gave Jacob a big hug even though the boy was not quite so comfortable with that anymore. That age, J.L. speculated to himself. The little girls held on tight to J.L.’s neck with no amount of pecks on the cheeks being enough from all concerned.

    J.L. took the road west that followed the great River. He climbed up and over the summit of the Cascades, easier to do here than most other places and soon found himself in a very different land. A lush and green land that smelled different than home on the edge of the high desert. The evergreens were tall, the leafy trees already beginning to shout spring. And the traffic of horses, wagons and any other mode imagined in the late 1870’s increased as he went along. He spent the first night sleeping out and the second at a lodge along the river. There was food and a room lined with beds. Not all beds were occupied and the inn was comfortable and clean.

    By Monday around the noon hour he was in downtown Portland. The hustle and hubbub was amazing, the different kind of wagons, surreys and other modes of transportation was incredible. Making his way to city center, after some instructions from a few people he looked for the church. It stood out with its towering steeple. It was quite a large complex of buildings that included the chapel plus other outbuilding for other activities. He had not seen quite such an edifice before that was a church.

    And there were a number people, men and women milling about. Some that looked like they had traveled there for the event others looking like maybe the mean streets was their home. He could smell food cooking so he guessed the church probably had a kitchen that cooked for the indigent.

    He followed a sign that stated this way to the conference. Once inside a large room of one of the out buildings he approached a table where others were gathered. He assumed this was the check in and he was right. He was welcomed, given a name tag and shown where the conference would be held, a dining room for dinner that evening and down a hall way with a number of doors. Upon entering one he found a small but clean and comfortable room with two beds and a few other pieces of furniture. He assumed he would have a roommate.

    He stayed mostly to his room and the grounds for the next couple of hours until dinner. Then, along with 50 or so other people he gathered with them for dinner around large round tables that held eight or so. He was excited about it but also there was the nagging feeling that he was totally out of place. ‘What in the world was an ole cowpuncher like him doing with these folks?’ he thought.

    Dinner was sumptuous but simple, cooked by kindly ladies that reminded one of favorite grandmothers and aunts. There was a speaker who welcomed all. He asked all to stand one at a time and introduce themselves and where they had traveled from. J.L. was glad that the gentleman didn’t ask the participants to mention why they were there.

    He then gave a short sermon from 2nd Timothy and Paul talking about one’s calling. It was a good message and J.L. felt comforted by it. But what really got his attention were three people that came to speak afterwards; two men and one woman. They gave something that was called ‘testimonies’. J.L. discovered that these were three ordinary people, two with rough backgrounds that had felt called of the Lord. He wondered if he would ever be able to give such a talk and then decided not likely.

    After that it was time to retire and he was dead-dog tired. The little bed was quite comfortable and before he knew it he was out. At this point he had the room to himself. He woke early the next morning, before light and a bit confused as to where he was. He made his way to the inside washroom, did his duties, dressed in his Sunday go to meeting best and went towards the kitchen hoping for coffee.

    The ladies were already busy and coffee was made but they said breakfast was about a half hour away. He was the only one in the room except for a large man of middle age who was in some sort of military uniform. He was at least as big as J.L. and maybe a little taller. He had thinning hair with a shiny pate most prominent. For what he lacked in hair on top he made up for with a feather duster of a mustache under a prominent nose. He was drinking coffee out of what seemed a mighty small cup compared to his large, rough

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