Faith (13 page)

"I understand." Faith resolved to be patient. When the
time was right, they would marry. Trust, Faith, the good
Lord kept seeming to tell her. And she would. "The cattle
must come first."

"Well, normally they wouldn't. But this time of year they
must."

Faith sat up straighter, encouraging conversation. "Why is
that?"

"If I want top dollar, I have to get my herd to market
before it's glutted."

"You mean before other ranchers beat you there and
demand a higher price?"

He smiled. "Something like that. The more cattle bought,
the more prices fall."

Faith could see he enjoyed explaining the procedure to
her. She reveled in the secret knowledge that she wasn't
nearly as green on such matters as she appeared. She'd
always kept up on the stock reports, discussing them with
Papa.

Though neither of them had moved an inch, it suddenly
seemed they were sitting closer. She could feel the cloth of
his trousers brushing her skirt. She wondered if he was
aware of it, too.

"So, you'll drive the herd to San Antonio. Can you do
that by yourself? You're just one man, and there are so
many cattle."

"The ranch hands will help."

"Ranch hands? I've never seen anyone around other than
you and Mother Shepherd."

"That's because the bunkhouse is at the far side of the
land." He laughed. "Mama wants it that way."

Faith felt fuzzy with warmth. It was the first time she'd
heard him laugh, and she loved the sound.

"Why would she insist on such measures?"

His eyes grew distant now. "Mama hasn't been herself
lately. I'm worried about her. She has it in her head that our
help pose a danger to her. She wants nothing to do with
them."

"Are the men dangerous?"

"Most of the men are decent and hardworking. There are
always a few who get out of line, but not many because
they know they'll be sent packing when they do."

"I imagine it's hard for a man to get out of line in Deliverance. There are no saloons."

Nicholas chuckled, a manly sort of chuckle that made
Faith blush. "San Antone has all they need. There have
been a couple of times when a cowhand has come back
with more cheap whiskey in his belly than pay in his
pocket."

Faith wondered if she should mention Liza's brown vial.
She decided against it; it would only cause him more worry.
"What did Mother Shepherd want you to do about the
men?"

"She wanted the bunkhouse moved." He chuckled again.

His mood was infectious. Faith joined in, and they had a
good laugh over nothing. Neither meant disrespect toward
Liza.

Faith regained her composure. "What happens when you
sell the cattle in San Antonio?"

"A broker will arrange for the herd to be driven up the
Chisholm Trail. There the cattle will be delivered to the
buyer. Usually in Wichita or Abilene."

"I see." Faith paused. "Why don't you just cut out the
middleman and drive the herd to the buyer yourself?"

He looked at her a long moment. "Very astute of you,
Faith. Because it's a long, hard drive. For years we delivered
the herd to the buyer. When my father was alive . . ."
Nicholas stared into his empty cup. "Is there any more
coffee?"

"Plenty." Faith gathered the cups and disappeared into the
house. She glanced into the parlor and heard Liza's soft snores. While the pot was heating, she thought of Nicholas
and the way he'd suddenly changed the subject at the mention of his father. Why?

"There's more," Faith offered when she returned and
handed Nicholas his cup.

"Thank you."

Sitting down, she gazed at the stars. It was a romantic
night. Was he mindful? "Are Texas nights always this
pretty?"

Nicholas gazed at the sky. "Seem to be."

"Have you always lived here?"

"I was born here-in this house."

"And your parents, were they born here too?"

Nicholas set the cup aside. "No, they're from Kentucky.
Father married Mother when she was sixteen. A year before
I was born, they loaded everything they owned into a
wagon and headed west. When they reached Texas, they
fell in love with the land. Papa staked his claim, then built
the herd with hard work and a lot of blood and sweat."

Faith smiled, warmed by the knowledge that he was
opening up to her. It filled her heart with joy. She set the
swing in gentle motion. "No brothers or sisters?"

"Just me." Nicholas closed his eyes, and she could see
him relax. The dim kitchen light shadowed his face, and he
looked like a small, tired boy. "The folks wanted more, but
no others came along."

"Nicholas?" she asked gently. "How did your father die?"

Nicholas stiffened. A seemingly endless moment passed.
Faith wished she hadn't asked. Papa always said she talked too much. She was beginning to think he was right. Some
people needed more time to heal than others. At least that's
what Aunt Thalia always said.

Exhaling a deep breath, Nicholas said softly, "Papa was
shoeing a mule. No one's sure how it happened, but Gus,
a ranch hand, was in the barn pitching hay. He said something must have spooked the mule. Said the animal went
wild-Papa tried to get out of the way. The mule kicked
him in the head. When Gus got to him, Papa was dead."

Faith shut her eyes, in touch with his pain. "I'm so sorry."
They sat in silence as the lantern in the kitchen sputtered,
then went out.

"Mama took it hard," Nicholas admitted. "She's still taking it bad. That's why I appease her moods."

Faith reached over and laid her hand on top of his. At
least he'd noticed them. "I can imagine how hard it must be
for her."

"She'd been with him most of her life. Papa used to laugh
and say he'd practically raised her. She hasn't been the same
since he died."

Faith looked at the strong, rugged man that sat beside her.
Even in the depths of his pain, his concern was for others.
Faith was grateful the Lord had allowed her to see a softer
side of this man.

Aware that she was still holding his hand, she let go and
smoothed her dress. It wasn't proper for a lady to be so
forward.

Nicholas stretched, then got to his feet. "It's late-Faith, when I get back from San Antonio, we might saddle those
two horses you favor and take a ride. Would you like that?"

Faith thought of those two splendid Appaloosas and
beamed. "Very much so."

He offered his hand and helped her up. "Will you be
comfortable while I'm gone?"

"I'll be fine. If you don't mind, I'd like to spend time
with little Adam Walters." The child had been on her mind
since the barn raising. If she could help the sightless boy to
experience the world more fully through her eyes, that
would make her very happy.

"Dan Walters's boy?"

"Yes-do you mind? I thought with my teaching experience I might be able to help."

"No, I don't mind. The boy's a bright child just let
Mama know what you're doing."

"I will-and Nicholas?" Faith allowed him to open the
screen door for her. She gazed into his eyes, picturing their
clear blue in the darkness. Her stomach quivered.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me."

"I was just about to thank you for the same thing." Their
eyes met briefly and a silent message passed between them.
They could be friends.

As Faith approached the staircase, she turned to Nicholas.
"Be careful while you're gone."

"You do the same." He disappeared into his room, softly
closing the door behind him.

AITH sat between Nicholas and Liza on
the way to the Saturday-night community dance. She'd
wished a hundred times she'd been more thoughtful,
shown more discretion at the Johnson barn raising, but
tonight would be different. She was on new footing with
Nicholas after their talk on the porch; she would guard
her behavior, although she enjoyed Dan's company and
adored his children. When she thought of how excited
Adam was when she'd told him stories, she felt she had to
share it with someone, so she'd sat up late last night writing long letters to Hope, June, and Aunt Thalia, extolling
Dan and his children. God did indeed work in mysterious
ways, for if he hadn't sent her to Deliverance, she might
never have known the joy of reading to a sightless child.
She'd never met anyone who was blind, unless she could count old Mr. Gunnison, who Papa had said could see a
little even if he contended he was blind as a bat. Papa said
Mr. Gunnison overly enjoyed attention.

As usual, silence prevailed as the wagon bounced along
the rutted trail. Faith searched the countryside for signs of
trouble, relieved when she saw nothing but a radiant goldand-blue sunset, though there were clouds looming in the
east. The thought of lively music and tasty food quickened
her excitement. It had been a long time since she had
enjoyed a social evening.

She studied Liza from the corner of her eye, wondering
why she'd wanted to come tonight. Faith couldn't imagine
her cutting a feisty jig on the dance floor. Yet she appeared
to have taken more care than usual with her appearance
tonight. Faith bit back a smile, recalling how Jeremiah had
started sprucing up lately. He'd looked right dapper at the
Johnsons'. Clean shaven, smelling of soap and water instead
of donkey. And he was wearing new clothes. Was it possible Jeremiah was smitten with Liza?

A laugh bubbled in Faith's throat when she thought of the
unlikely pair: dour-faced Liza and good-hearted Jeremiah.
She laughed out loud, remembering how she'd complimented Jeremiah on his new haircut. He blushed, dismissing
the compliment as if it embarrassed him. Had Jeremiah ever
been married? Did he have children of his own?

Faith glanced at Liza. Had she ever once laughed or had
fun? What had Abe Shepherd been like? Debonair? Jovial?
Rowdy and fun loving? Cranky, like Liza? The picture sitting on the parlor table portrayed Nicholas's father as a handsome man with a handlebar mustache and a brisk twinkle in his eye.

She laughed out loud again and jumped when Nicholas
elbowed her and gave her a stern look.

"Sorry," she muttered, straightening the skirt of her dress.
But the thought of Jeremiah and Liza together was funny.

The air was close, with an occasional flash of light in the
east. Faith loved a good thunderstorm with jagged lightning
and gusty wind. As a child she used to stand in the rain,
arms outstretched, experiencing God's awesome power.

Jeremiah stepped off the porch when the Shepherd buggy
rolled to a stop in front of the community hall. If Faith was
surprised by his improved appearance at the Johnsons', she
was thrilled with his appearance tonight. He was clean
shaven and wore a sedate lightweight brown suit and white
shirt. He looked different, distinguished, not at all like the
shaggy recluse who had given her a ride into town on his
mule.

Jeremiah reached for the horse's bridle, smiling. "Looks
like we're in for a good soaking."

"We can always use rain." Nicholas set the brake, then
wrapped the reins around it. "Surprised to see you in town
tonight, Jeremiah."

Jeremiah smiled, his eyes openly admiring Liza Shepherd.
"I never miss the opportunity to be with a pretty lady." He
lifted a hand to help Liza down. When her foot touched the
ground, she broke the contact, primly adjusting her dress
into place, refusing to meet Jeremiah's eyes. "May I say you
look fetching tonight, Mrs. Shepherd?"

Liza's eyes narrowed. "Don't you have anything better to
do with your time than annoy folks, Mr...." She paused,
her face going temporarily blank.

"Montgomery." Jeremiah supplied. "Jeremiah Wilson
Montgomery. And I have a variety of interesting ways to
spend my time, but I would rather make the effort talking
to you."

Adjusting her shawl, Liza sidestepped him and disappeared
into the brightly lit community hall, where the sounds of
fiddles and guitars filled the air.

Faith stepped from the wagon, wondering why Liza was
so bent on acting ugly. Jeremiah was only trying to be
sociable, and Liza did look ... well, nice tonight ... softer,
less daunting. The particular shade of green she was wearing
complimented her ... made her hazel eyes look more ...
human-like.

Faith softened as Nicholas took her arm and they climbed
the wooden steps. The polite contact sent her heart racing.
At times he acted as though he didn't like her, much less
want to marry her. At others he seemed polite, almost
gentle. His moods were a puzzlement.

The brightly lit hall was crowded. Faith spotted the town's
eligible women quickly. They surged toward Nicholas,
smiling and gesturing. A young, very pretty, brown-haired
woman waved to him from across the room.

Nicholas smiled at her, acknowledging her greeting. Faith
was startled when she felt a twinge ofjealousy.

A group of ranchers who were gathered around the punch
bowl called to Nicholas, motioning for him to join them.