Brides of Idaho (9 page)

She sat with her back against a tree, the dappled light making it difficult to read her expression. “Can’t a person enjoy some peace and quiet without you interrupting?” And she turned her attention to the Bible in her lap, pointedly ignoring him.

There wasn’t room to lean against the same tree, and she made it clear she didn’t welcome closeness, so he chose the next tree over and sat down, his legs sprawled out in front of him. He took in a deep, satisfying breath. “I won’t keep you. I only want to apologize. I shouldn’t have kissed you. Or said those things.”

“You’re taking it all back?”

He considered his answer a moment and could find nothing better to say than, “Seems the best thing to do.”

“Not surprised.” She spoke so quietly he wondered if he’d misunderstood her.

“What do you mean? It isn’t like I’ve done this before.”

She shrugged, looked as if she didn’t intend to answer then sighed. “Not you. Others have though.”

“Others?” He didn’t want to think other men had stolen kisses. Or worse, been given them. “How many beaus are we talking about?”

She gave him a scowl fit to dry up the river. “Not beaus. I got no use for that nonsense.”

“Then who?”

“My pa. Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s a great one for saying something then changing his mind.”

Levi digested the information. It appears it was her father who disappointed her. “What did he do?”

A heavy sigh pushed past her lips. “It was what he didn’t do.”

“All right. What didn’t he do?”

She slowly turned and fixed him with a look full of defiance but also laced with regret and longing.

He ached to be able to comfort her, but he didn’t have the right. Would never have the right.

“He couldn’t be bothered to be a father. It interfered with his plans.”

He held her gaze, reading past the anger to the pain. “I’m sorry. However, I am not your pa. Nor do I wish to hurt you. I care about you, but I don’t have the right.” He gathered his feet beneath him and stood. “I will never have the right.” He strode away, not daring a backward glance. He had set his face to the plow and would not look back.

The next day he would again cross the river on the ferry and ride to where he’d last seen the children, hoping they were gone—safely with their father. Hoping they had not been bothered by someone with less than noble intentions.

The morning couldn’t come too soon for him.

G
lory forced herself not to toss and turn, knowing it would bring questions from Joanna and Mandy. Instead, she curled on the far side of the bed she shared with her younger sister and stared into the darkness.

Of course Levi didn’t mean what he said. Why had she expected he would? She was no more than twelve when she realized words were easily given and just as easily taken back.

Her Pa had taught her well. Every year—sometimes several times in a year—he’d promised he’d stay with the girls this time. And every time he rode out of their lives, most times without warning or good-bye.

She’d lost track of the number of times they’d been thrust upon the care of others until they rebelled. Joanna was sixteen, almost seventeen, when they’d convinced her they could manage on their own. As a trio, they’d tried to keep up with Pa, depending on him to give them a home. But they got tired of that real quick. Seems the more he saw of them, the more he wanted to move on. Still, they tried to stay close. After all, he was their pa. They learned to manage on their own, hunting, fishing, cooking, cleaning, tending children… whatever it took to survive.

She firmly pushed regrets to the back of her mind. That was the past and there was no benefit in moaning about what might have been. They now had their own successful business. It should have been enough for all of them and it was, but besides helping run the stopping house, Glory wanted to take care of abused or neglected horses, nursing them back to health.

She thought of the tin can under her side of the bed where she kept her earnings. How long would it take before she had enough to buy that piece of land?

By the time morning dawned, she could hardly wait to be up and about her chores. She hurried through them, barely taking time to stop for breakfast.

Somehow she managed to keep her gaze from roving toward Levi. Kiss her and regret it would he? Well, she didn’t need the likes of him. She was drying the last dish when she saw him on the ferry, again crossing the river, and her suspicions mounted. He said he would never be free to care for her. That wasn’t quite the word he’d used. The right. He’d never have the right. Whatever that meant. But if he was part of a gang, involved in robbery or other illegal activity, wouldn’t it mean he didn’t have the right?

Was he the Rawhide Kid posing as a preacher? She didn’t like to think so, but it made perfect sense.

She wished it didn’t.

As soon as she recognized the thought, she wanted to boot herself across the yard. What difference did it make to her? None. None whatsoever. She was only thinking of how many people would be disillusioned when they discovered the truth. She was above and beyond disappointment. That was one good thing her pa had taught her.

As soon as she’d done her share of chores, she returned to the horses. A pleased grin curved her mouth. She’d ridden the horses in tandem. It gave her a great deal of satisfaction.

Simply for the sheer fun of it, she stood on the backs of the pair and rode them around the pasture. She did the death drag from Pal’s back. The thrill of the trick blew away all her troubles.

After she had enough, she turned her attention to the big gray gelding. Today she was determined to get him to let her touch him. She shook some oats into her hat and slowly approached the animal. He quivered but didn’t snort and race away. He liked his oats too much.

She laughed softly as he allowed her to close the distance between them. His nostrils quivering, he reached for the oats, but she kept them close to her body. “If you want them, you’ll have to forget your fear of me.”

The big animal shook his head, but his gaze returned to the oats and he jerked forward, almost reaching them, but he shivered away without so much as a taste.

“Take it easy, big fella. I won’t hurt you. In fact, you might find you like having me touch you.” She shook the hat, reminding him of the waiting treat. “Oats. See? You know how much you like them.”

Slower, but still cautious, he stretched out his neck and managed to lick up a few grains.

“Not enough to satisfy you, is it? Come on, forget about the past and people who have hurt you. I’m different. I won’t hurt you. You can trust me.”

The horse eased forward and suddenly buried his nose in the hat, forcing Glory to hang on with both hands. She rested the hat against her stomach and gently, gently touched his neck. He quivered but didn’t pull away from the oats.

Glory laughed softly. “See, it’s not so scary after all.” She touched him again, thrilling at this victory.

He snuffled up the last of the oats and trotted away to watch her from a safe distance.

Glory couldn’t stop grinning. “You and I are going to be great friends once you learn you can trust me.”

Trust. She knew it took a long time to prove to an abused animal trusting was okay. Her thoughts filled with questions from her past and promises from God’s Word, entwined together like a ball of knotted yarn. She sat in her favorite spot to consider the tangle.

Levi had said he cared and then changed his mind.

She wasn’t sure he was a preacher or a crook. Plain and simple, she didn’t trust him. And yet he said to search the Bible and find God’s promises. He assured them all they could trust those promises.

She thought of some of the ones that had found their way into her heart. A promise to love her—
“I have loved thee with an everlasting love”
—a promise to hear when she called on Him, to draw near to her, to answer her requests. Dare she trust Him?

The words that Levi had brought that first Sunday came to mind.
“God is not a man, that he should lie; neither the son of man, that he should repent: hath he said, and shall he not do it? or hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good?”
The next Sunday he had given even more promises from God’s Word, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to thrust herself wholly into someone else’s care. Not even God’s. Life had disappointed too often for trust to come readily.

A horse approached, and she scrambled to her feet.

The man drawing near was a stranger. In a fine suit. With a round-topped black hat that looked like it had just been plucked out of a store display. He rode well, though in a stiff manner. Not like a cowboy who spent hours in a saddle. He drew to a halt before her. “You are on my land.”

Not now. Her heart reached bottom and lay there limp. She’d hoped this day would never come. “Who are you?”

He pulled off his hat to reveal blond hair slicked back with plenty of pommade. “Master Marcus Milton.” He returned his hat to his head and looked almighty pleased with himself, as if she should rejoice at meeting such a fine, pompous man.

She bit the inside of her lip in order to keep her opinion to herself.

When he realized she didn’t plan to comment on the privilege of meeting Master whatever, he gave a decisive nod. “Do you have plans to purchase this land?”

“How much?”

He named a sum likely fair enough but far more than she had in her tin can. Even selling her current half-dozen horses wouldn’t bring in enough money. “I could pay part now and part later.”

He sniffed. “I am a businessman. Borrow the money from a bank. In the meantime, either buy the land or move your horses off it.”

“They’re not hurting anything.”

“You’re trespassing.”

“I need time to find another suitable location. After all, I can’t keep them tied up in town, now can I?”

“Very well. I am a reasonable man.” He looked like it pained him to say so. “I will give you two weeks.” He beamed at her.

She stared, suddenly realized he expected her to thank him. “You’ll have your money in less time than that.”

“Or you will remove your animals.” He jerked his mount around.

It was all Glory could do not to order him to keep in mind the horse’s tender mouth. She watched him until he disappeared from sight then sank back to the ground and moaned. “How am I supposed to get that kind of money in less than two weeks?” Dare she pray about it? Would God listen to a foolish, selfish request? What did she have to lose?

God, help me out here if You care about me at all. You say in Your Word You care. But everyone who says they care about me takes it back one way or the other. But You aren’t a man to change Your mind. So if it’s true, if I can trust You, make a way for me to buy this piece of land.

She didn’t say amen. Just finished and sat there, a little seed of hope sprouting.

Later, she returned to town, curious as to whether or not Levi was back. Or was he out taking advantage of innocent people? Perhaps even planning to rob a bank or something equally as dreadful. Her mistrust of Levi was at such odds with the step of trust she’d taken up the hill. But trust did not come easily, and she’d learned it shouldn’t be given freely.

She half expected to see Levi striding into the saloon, despite Bull’s continued threats and warnings. Once she’d seen Bull pushing him out the door, growling and saying all kinds of horrible things, but Levi seemed to be hard of hearing. Why would he even bother going there when he knew it meant nothing but trouble from Bull? Was it part of a ruse? Or for real? She wished she knew. But it didn’t make any difference to her. Not really. He couldn’t or wouldn’t care about her. And she didn’t care about him.

There was no sign of him at the saloon. She stopped and dismounted, checked to see if Toby was inside. He wasn’t. Maybe the two of them were together someplace, though she’d seen no sign of Levi’s big horse outside Mr. Phelps’s house. Not that she had looked. She was only being observant.

She swung back into the saddle and headed for her shop. Sometimes he sat on the step talking to Toby as they waited for her. No one sat on the step. No one waited for her.

And why had she expected anyone would? It was only because she was angry at him for saying something he didn’t mean. Just proved he was like every other man she knew.

She unsaddled Pal and turned him into the pen. Time to head to the stopping house and take care of the chores.

Toby was already there, already had the wood box full and the ashes cleaned out and was about to tackle the bucket of potatoes as she approached.

She sat on the bench and started peeling a wrinkled potato. “What have you been doing today?” It was normal conversation. No reason to feel all jittery about asking such a question. She stifled a desire to groan. It wasn’t the question that bothered her. It was the curiosity behind it.
Where is Levi?

“Been hanging about waiting for Levi to get back.”

“Where did he go?”

“Only thing he said was he had something to attend to up the trail.”

“That doesn’t make a lick of sense. Is he trying to make us think he has legitimate business?”

“Maybe.”

“He’s got you convinced he’s really a preacher, hasn’t he?” She pointed out he was the first one to suggest the Rawhide Kid. After hearing him preach again each Sunday, she was almost ready to believe it. Almost.

“Glory, you should talk to him. Then you’d be convinced, too.”

“I’ve talked to him, and it surely didn’t convince me.”

He stopped peeling potatoes to study her. “What did he say to upset you so much?”

“Enough for me not to trust him.”

He returned to his task. “You’ll see sooner or later.”

“I expect I shall.” As usual, she sat so she could see the comings and goings on the ferry. And not—she informed herself—because she hoped to glimpse Levi returning without a posse on his tail.

The vegetables were prepared, the table set when she saw him on the ferry. Or at least she saw an animal like his horse. But this man had two children with him. Where did he get two children? He hadn’t killed their parents in a robbery or kidnapped the children hoping for a ransom, had he?