Colorado Dawn (47 page)

Silas rested his fishing pole on his shoulder and dangled his tackle box from his fingertips. Shutting the door on the parsonage and his sermon notes for next Sunday, he couldn’t help the tickle of anticipation at playing the truant for an afternoon by the creek.

A warm spring breeze, so welcome after the bitter winter just past, brushed across his face. He breathed deeply, hitched the strap on the bag holding his lunch higher onto his shoulder, and set out for Martin Creek.

With each step, he shed the responsibilities and cares of his flock and allowed himself to relax and embrace the beautiful day. Following the burbling stream, he descended the hillside toward the rock-strewn oxbow where rainbow trout darted in the crystal water.

Would she be there?

He chided himself for allowing his thoughts to return once more to the young woman. His attempts at concentration since meeting her had been paltry at best. The fact that he’d been unable to locate her since then had driven him to distraction. If he could only see her once more, convince himself his memory had played him false, that she wasn’t as perfectly beautiful as he remembered, then perhaps he could get her out of his mind and focus on his job as a pastor.

And that was the only reason his steps quickened as he reached the place where he’d last seen her.

She was there.

He had to blink to make sure his mind wasn’t tricking him.

She sat on the flat rock, her arms wrapped around her up-drawn knees. A wide-brimmed hat shaded her face, and she had her brown hair tucked up, revealing her slender neck and the delicate line of her jaw.

His foot loosened a pebble that skipped and bounced down to the water, and the sound caused her to turn toward him. Even from a dozen paces her gray eyes sucked his breath away.

His memory hadn’t played him false.

“Good after—” His voice rumbled in his chest, sounding rusty and hoarse. Silas cleared his throat and tried again. “Good afternoon.”

Her welcoming smile made his chest feel like the sun had risen just under his heart. Satisfaction, as if he’d finally found something he’d been looking for all his life, washed over him.

“Good afternoon. I see you came prepared to fish me out if I fell in today.” She pointed to his gear.

Laughing all out of proportion to her small joke, he approached her and set his equipment on the bank. “I’m playing the truant from work this afternoon. It’s much too nice to stay inside.”

“I agree. I escaped for a while myself. Sometimes I just need to get away from everyone.”

“Am I intruding? I’ll go if you like.”
Please say no. Please ask me to stay
. The plea rose up so strongly he almost voiced the words aloud.

“I’d be glad of your company.” A blush pinked her cheeks, and her lashes fell. “I’m sorry I had to rush away before. I was late, and my…employers won’t tolerate lateness.”

She lifted a pine branch from the rock beside her and trailed it in the water. Resin from the broken tip created a rainbow pattern on top of the water, and sunshine threw brilliant reflections up under her hat brim and lighted her face with ever-changing dapples.

The burning desire to know everything about this woman surged through him, but he sensed her reserve and cautioned himself to go slowly. “I wasn’t offended. Your devotion to your employers is admirable.” Seating himself a respectable distance away on another sun-warmed rock, he studied her profile. “It’s nice we’re both able to take an afternoon off every once in a while. I know I was getting weary battling the books. The boys I was preparing a lesson for would much rather be out climbing trees and playing ducks and drakes.”

“Ducks and drakes?” Her tip-tilted nose wrinkled. “I’ve not heard of that.”

“It’s another name for skipping stones.” He cast about his feet and located a flat stone the size of a silver dollar. He brushed it off and tossed it in his palm, testing the weight. “This is a perfect skipping stone. Watch.” Silas stood and hurled the stone, watching in satisfaction when it bounced across the water half a dozen times before disappearing beneath the surface.

Her delighted laughter rippled through him.

She tossed her stick into the stream, rose, and dusted her hands. “I’ve never skipped a stone in my life. Show me again.”

He found another rock, flicked it at the stream, and winced when it ricocheted off a boulder with a
clack
. “Hmm, not so good.” He grimaced. “You try it. Find a good flat rock. Those work the best.”

She found a stone and tossed it into the stream.
Plop
. “Well, that was unspectacular. What did I do wrong?” A tiny crease appeared above the bridge of her nose.

He found another flat stone. This time his toss netted him eight skips.

She tried twice more with poor results, and each time the concentration on her face deepened and her determination to master the skill became more pronounced.

“You need to throw more from the side. Make the rock fly parallel to the water for as long as possible.” He flipped a stone across the surface of the creek. “And don’t forget, I’ve had a lot of practice at this.”

Another of her attempts ended in failure and a splash that wet the hem of her dress. “I’m never going to get this.” She blew out a breath and went to searching for another stone.

“Here, let me help you.” Silas stepped up onto the rock beside her and reached behind her to take her right hand in his. This close to her, he couldn’t help but notice the porcelain quality of her skin and the bird-delicate bones of her hands and wrists. Giving her plenty of time to stop him, he eased his left hand around her waist to steady her. “Draw the stone back like this”—he suited action to words—“and throw it like this.” He pantomimed, slowly propelling her hand forward on a flat plane. “One, two, three.” On three, the stone sailed through the air, skimmed the water, flipped, skipped, bounced, and after a half-dozen hops, plopped into the water.

“We did it!” She turned in his arms, gave a little hop, and hugged him, the light of triumph gleaming in her eyes.

He returned her exuberant embrace, thrilling at the feel of her in his arms.

“Thank you.” She leaned back and seemed to realize what she’d done. She let her hands drop from his shoulders and stepped back. Pink surged into her cheeks to replace the glow of accomplishment.

“Careful.” He kept hold of her elbows, lest she tumble into the stream in her haste to put some distance between them.

“I’m sorry. I overstepped.” She gripped her fingers together at her waist and gave him a good view of the top of her hat.

Reluctantly, he let go of her. “You did nothing of the sort.” He put his finger under her chin and raised her face until she had to look at him.

Confusion clouded those gray depths, and an awareness—the same awareness he’d felt from the moment he’d first seen her—that he was a man, she was a woman, and something strong drew them to one another.

He smiled, trying to coax a response from her. “I’m hungry. Will you share my lunch with me?”

She grasped at this as if he’d thrown her a lifeline in the midst of her storm of uncertainty. “I’d be happy to.”

He took her hand to help her to the bank but let it go right away. He didn’t want to scare her, and the power of his feelings, so fresh and new, surprised him. “I have sandwiches and apples.” Digging in his rucksack, he produced the napkin-wrapped bundles. He shrugged out of his coat and spread it on a patch of grass for her. “There. Don’t want your dress to get muddy.”

“I suppose I should’ve had a care for that before I sat out there on that rock, but the water seemed to be calling to me, and I just had to get closer to those ripples.”

Silas handed her a sandwich. “I’ll say grace.”

She stilled for a moment and nodded, bowing her head.

“Lord, thank You for Your beautiful creation, for sending spring after winter to remind us of how You are faithful to keep Your promises. Bless this food to our nourishment. Amen.”

“Amen,” she whispered.

He bit into the thick bread and sliced ham. Bless Estelle for baking a ham for him this week. He swallowed carefully. “I had hoped to see you in church this past Sunday. Martin City only has one house of worship, so I was sure you’d be there.” He winced, hoping his eagerness didn’t come across as an accusation. For all he knew, she’d been indisposed, or her employer had required her presence on Sunday morning.

She shrugged. “Oh, I almost never go to church.”

Cold shock poured over him so he had to check to make sure he hadn’t slipped into the water, and he realized how far along the path of his future his thoughts had already raced. The
one
command God required of His children when it came to choosing people to commit to for life, the
only
requirement He stipulated was they be not unequally yoked, believer to unbeliever. It had never entered his mind that this beautiful girl who had stolen his imagination and was on the verge of stealing his heart wouldn’t know Jesus as her Savior. His potential bride had suddenly become his mission field.

She appeared unaware of the blow she’d dealt him, taking a delicate bite of her apple and dabbing at her lips with the corner of her napkin. The similarity between the temptation of Eve and his own temptation now yawning before him didn’t pass him by without notice.

“Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m a total heathen.” She scanned the aspens on the far bank. “My father was a man of deep faith, and he passed that on to me. Why, if it wasn’t for my faith in God’s saving grace, I think I would lose all hope in this life and certainly my hope for the next.”

The muscles in his stomach loosened a fraction. “So you know Jesus as your Savior, but you don’t go to church?”

“Oh, I’d like to, but my schedule rarely allows it.” She tucked her bottom lip behind her teeth, and her eyes clouded. He sensed her backing away from his questions. Glancing at the sky, she wrapped her half-eaten lunch back into the napkin. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“Wait.” He shot to his feet, tumbling his sandwich to the ground. His apple bounced right into the stream and bobbed away. Before she could escape, he grabbed her wrist. “Please, there’s one more thing I have to know about you.”

“I really do need to be getting along before I’m missed.”

“I can’t possibly let you go without telling you my name and asking for yours. My name is Silas Hamilton.” He let go of her wrist and held out his hand, praying she would take it.

She hesitated and shook her head as if to chase away a thought. Slipping her fingers into his palm, she clasped his hand and solemnly studied his face. “My name is Willow. Willow Starr.” Without another word, she took her leave, slipping through the white aspen trunks and disappearing over the brow of the hill.

He stood on the bank staring after her. Willow Starr. Where had he heard that name before?

S
ilas, his hair still damp from his hasty bath, walked along Center Street toward the brightly lit theater, but his mind was still on his encounter with Willow Starr at the stream that afternoon. Her name was perfect, unique, descriptive, fitting. Anticipation lengthened his stride. An evening in the company of the Mackenzies never failed to stimulate and cheer him, and there was always the faint chance he might run into Miss Starr tonight. Martin City had precious few entertainments suitable for a young lady, so it was highly likely she would attend the performance at least once.

There was an idea. He grinned. The next time he saw Miss Starr he would invite her to the theater. First he needed to find the Mackenzies.

Quite a crowd gathered around the doors to the theater, and more people descended from carriages, wagons, and buggies. Being tall, Silas had an advantage, and soon he spotted Jesse Mackenzie’s thick head of white hair.

“Glad you found us. Quite a crush.” Jesse shook Silas’s hand. “If David hadn’t reserved a box for us a couple weeks ago, I doubt we’d have gotten tickets for tonight.”

David smiled and shrugged. Karen tucked her hand into his elbow and sighed.

“Aren’t you looking forward to this evening?” Silas studied her.

Before she could answer, David laughed and patted her hand. “She’s just worried about the baby. First evening out since Dawn was born.” He slipped his arm around her waist. “Now Karen, you promised you would try to have a good time. You know Buckford’s more than capable of tending her. He practically pushed us out the front door; he was so anxious to get to rock her all he wanted without you fretting that she would be spoiled. Celeste will help with the baby’s bath, and everything will be just fine.”

Karen blushed but fought back. “And who was it who went upstairs to check on the girls three times before we left?
And
made sure everyone would know where we would be?
And
made sure someone would be on hand to run for the doctor and the theater if anyone so much as sneezed?”

“All right, all right.” David hugged her close to his side. “We’re both anxious parents, but we’re going to try to have a pleasant time this evening and not talk about the kids the entire night. Although Mother and Dad might not mind, we don’t want to bore Silas.”

A fist pummeled Silas’s shoulder, and he turned to see Sam and Ellie Mackenzie. David’s younger brother grinned. “Hey there, Padre. Glad you could come tonight.”

Silas shook Sam’s hand and then Ellie’s. He’d been pleased to officiate at their wedding this past Christmas, and if anything, they appeared to be even more in love than they were just a few months ago. “Are Phin and Tick all set for Sunday afternoon?”

Ellie nodded. “They’ve spoken of little else since they got your invitation. You’ll have your hands full taking all the church boys on a picnic. Are you sure you don’t want some of us to come along and help corral them? I know from experience how exhausting they can be.”

The doors opened, and people began entering the theater. Jesse handed over the tickets and ushered everyone to the reserved box.

Silas barely had time to assure Ellie he could handle things before he was directed to a chair. “They’ve done this place up properly.” He took in the chandeliers, the velvet draperies, and the gilded woodwork.