Faith (8 page)

"A grass fire is no place for a woman!"

"A good wife-"

Nicholas's hand shot to his hip, and Faith wondered if he
was going to physically pick her up and haul her back to the wagon. He wouldn't dare. "We are not married yet, Miss
Kallahan."

Their eyes locked in a heated duel. "Mr. Shepherd," Faith
began. "I am well aware we are not married yet, but when
we do say our vows, I refuse to be another Shorthorn that
you simply brand and put out to pasture. A wife's place is to
be a helpmate to her husband-"

"Get back in the wagon," he ordered.

He hadn't heard a word she'd said! Faith rolled her eyes,
more determined than ever to make her point. "Eve was
created from Adam's rib. Not from his thick head. Nor
from the tip of his boots. From his rib! That's how close I
intend to be to my husband, Mr. Shepherd-a part of his
rib!"

Nicholas paled, and for a moment she wondered if she'd
gone too far. Then her eyes steeled. "You brought me here
to be your wife-"

"To be my wife! Not to get underfoot!"

"Nevertheless, I am here. And I intend to stand by your
side until death do us part, and that includes fighting this
fire with you!"

Nicholas shot her a stern look. She knew what he was
thinking. It was going to be a long life.

"Well? What do you say to that, Mr. Shepherd?" Her
eyes widened as the muscular Swede rushed her. Squealing,
she tried to step aside.

Nicholas lunged, and they tumbled to the ground. Holding onto her, he rolled her on the charred grass.

The jolt knocked the wind out of Faith. She had no idea what possessed him to do such a bizarre thing! She was only
trying to make a point! The moment she caught her breath
she began kicking and screaming.

Nicholas trapped her in his arms, rolling her on the ground,
effortlessly dodging her pointy-toed shoes.

"Mr. Shepherd! You get off of me this instant!"

Liza cupped her hands and shouted from the wagon,
"Nicholas Shepherd, you get up from there! The very
nerve-my son, wallowing on the ground with a
woman-have you lost your mind?"

Nicholas grunted, dodging another kick. "Stop that
kicking! I'll personally take those shoes off you!"

They rolled and tumbled through the charred debris as
men sidestepped them on the way to the water barrels.

"I'll stop kicking when you get off of me!" Faith tried to
squirm from beneath his heavy bulk.

"I'm trying to save your life!"

"Save my life?! You're being stubborn, that's what you're
doing!"

Pinning Faith's shoulders to the ground, Nicholas said
with a deadly calm, "Your dress is on fire, Miss Kallahan."

Her eyes narrowed. "My dress is what?"

"On fire."

Springing to her feet, she beat the flames out.

Nicholas rolled to his feet, and Faith avoided his eyes.

"The way you came charging at me like an old bull-"

"Get back into the wagon."

She studied the frenzied scene. Men were still fighting the
fire, gradually controlling the flames.

Faith glanced down the front of her wedding dress. Even
a double dose of Mother Shepherd's lye soap couldn't save
it now. The once beautiful garment was now black with
soot and scorched beyond repair. She tried to stem the tears
but failed.

"Now look what you've done." Nicholas awkwardly
brushed cinders from her charred dress.

In his own way, she knew, Nicholas was trying to comfort her. There were just some things a man obviously
didn't understand.

"Yes. It's just a dress," she whispered. Her wedding dress.
But it didn't look as if she'd ever be getting married anyway.

The fight was gone out of her. Tired and discouraged, she
gathered up the scorched hem and walked slowly to the
Shepherds' wagon. "You can use my sack if you want,"
Faith said, refusing to look over her shoulder.

Nicholas dashed off to join the other men.

As she climbed up into the wagon, Liza gave her a censuring look. Faith knew she'd seen her and Nicholas rolling
around on the ground, and the thought left her stricken
with shame. She reeked of smoke; she didn't care.

It was late in the evening before the last man dropped to
the ground with exhaustion. Faith thanked God the fire
hadn't reached Deliverance. Speculation about the cause ran
rampant. Old Charlie Snippet, who helped out around the
general store, swore it was a lightning storm that did it.
Others blamed a couple of gamblers who rode into town
early the night before looking for a game. They'd been upset when they found out Deliverance had no saloon.
Whatever the cause, Faith was thankful the fire was finally
out. She dropped to her knees to thank God for his goodness and mercy.

Worn out, the men headed home. They climbed aboard
wagons and saddle horses and scattered in all directions.

On the way home, Nicholas was silent. Faith was too
tired and too discouraged to offer conversation. Her wedding had been thwarted twice. She wasn't in the mood to
discuss a third attempt.

When the wagon stopped in front of the house, Liza got
out and disappeared inside without a word. Nicholas went
to the barn to tend chores.

Faith poured a pitcher of water into the wash basin, then
discarded the ruined dress and scrubbed herself clean before
changing into her nightclothes. Worn out and humiliated,
she crawled into bed. The feather mattress felt heavenly
against her aching body.

She lay in a lonely bed, in a lonely house, wondering why
Mother Shepherd treated her so coldly.

The smell of fried potatoes and bacon drifted to her. She
sniffed, her stomach knotting with hunger. She hadn't eaten
all day.

When she heard the back door shut, she realized Nicholas
had come in from the barn. She heard Mother Shepherd's
muffled voice as she shuffled around the kitchen. Faith
dreaded the thought of morning dawning, a new day beginning. There was no telling what new disaster awaited.

Oh, Father, grant inc more faith, more wisdom, some way to reach Nicholas and his mother. Am I doing something wrong? Am
I disappointing you? Is my faith not strong enough? Give me
patience to try harder. Reveal your will, dear God. I'll follow as
best I can.

Tossing and turning, she finally drifted into a restless sleep.

The sharp rap of knuckles on her bedroom door jolted Faith
awake before dawn. It rattled the old rooster off the
window ledge, denying him his daybreak caterwauling.

"Breakfast," Mother Shepherd snapped.

At least she was speaking to her. Even if it was in onesyllable barks. It was far more than Faith expected.

Yawning, Faith rolled out of bed. Wearing those torturous pointy shoes another day was out of the question. She
buttoned a red-and-black plaid shirt, pulled on denim bib
overalls, and put on her old boots. Looking in the mirror,
she admitted she wasn't exactly a flattering feminine image.
Well, she sighed, looking like a lady hadn't won her any
prizes yesterday.

Nicholas was seated at the head of the table when she
walked into the kitchen. Liza was taking a pan of biscuits
out of the oven. Nicholas briefly nodded to her, smiling.
Faith quickly took her seat across from Liza.

Mother Shepherd set the platter of sausage and eggs on
the table, her eyes fixed on Faith's attire. "Are we milking
this morning?"

Faith ignored the cutting remark. "Sorry I'm so late. I slept longer than I expected. Is there anything I can do to
help?"

Liza unbuttoned her collar and fanned herself. "I can
manage my own kitchen, thank you."

Faith pitied Nicholas's predicament. He was a man in
the worse possible situation, caught between two warring
women, his mother on one side, his intended bride on the
other. Liza Shepherd was set in her ways. Faith couldn't
imagine her giving an inch, now or ever.

Faith, on the other hand, was young and cheerfully optimistic most times. But she had a fire in her spirit that Papa
always said would cause some man a good deal of trouble.

Apparently his prophecy had come true.

"Well, are we going to eat or just stare at our plates all
day?" Liza asked. "Nicholas, say grace."

Nicholas complied. "Thank you, Father, for our many
blessings and for the food we are about to receive. Amen."

Faith was aware that Nicholas was staring at her over the
rim of his cup. She refused to meet his gaze, keeping her
eyes trained on her plate. Once or twice she saw him glance
at his mother as if she puzzled him. His bitter words still
rang sharply in her mind. "Get back in the wagon where
you belong!"

Well, she didn't belong in a wagon. She belonged beside
him. If that bothered Nicholas, they would have to discuss
the situation and find a workable solution. If he wanted a
kitchen wife, he'd wasted good money sending for her.

Nicholas pushed his unfinished plate aside and stood up. His gaze focused on Faith. "There will be no wedding
today."

Faith nodded, buttering a biscuit. The announcement
came as no surprise. She was beginning to think there
would never be one.

"Reverend Hicks has been called out of town for the
remainder of the week. I've promised the Johnsons I'd help
with their barn raising today. Hay needs to be put up while
the weather's good, so the wedding will have to wait until a
week from Thursday, if you're comfortable with that." For
the briefest of moments, Faith thought he looked mildly
disappointed.

"Yes, sir," she murmured.

Nicholas pushed his chair against the table. "If you'll
excuse me, I'll hitch the wagon." He left the room, and a
moment later Faith heard the front door shut behind him.

It was the time of day she'd come to dread. She and
Mother Shepherd, alone. Whatever Nicholas's mother said,
no matter how mean and petty, Faith vowed to be respectful and patient. Somewhere above, her heavenly Father
would be watching.

Liza's mood caught her off guard. As the door closed
behind Nicholas, she reached for the coffeepot almost pleasantly. Not a word mentioned about the fire or about Faith's
improper behavior. She acted as if Faith were in another
room as she quietly began clearing dishes from the table.

Picking up her plate, Faith pushed her chair back from
the table. "May I help?"

"No, thank you. I've been clearing tables long before you were born," Liza said. "Besides, you're hardly dressed for
women's work."

Faith fought the urge to respond, then tempered her
thoughts by reminding herself to respect her elder.

"You're absolutely right, Mother Shepherd. I'll just see if
Nicholas needs any help hitching the wagon." A moment
later she let herself out the back door, letting Liza wash
dishes by herself.

She found Nicholas in the barn, checking the horse's
shoe. When he looked up, Faith smiled, but he went on
working.

"You should be in the house getting ready. You'll need to
change clothes before we go."

She glanced down at her bib overalls. Perhaps she should;
the overalls were a bit wrinkled, but they would get dirty
anyway at the barn raising. She couldn't wait to get her
hands into that project! Papa had always said she was as
good with a hammer and saw as any man he knew. But as
silly as it seemed to change clothes, she would meet Nicholas halfway. "I'll change right away." She glanced at the two
beautiful horses she'd seen earlier, housed in a stall beside
the wagon. "Can I ride one sometime?"

Nicholas glanced up, surprised. "Ride? You're welcome
to take the buggy anytime you want."

"No." She moseyed over to pet the horses. Their noses
felt wet and moist. "I want to ride one of these fine fellows
if you don't mind."

He bent his head, mumbling, "Mama won't approve of it."

"I'll ask her very properly. If she consents, will it be all
right with you?"

"If she consents, it will be a miracle," Nicholas grunted,
hitching the harness to the wagon.

He might as well know right here and now he's not
marrying a parlor lady, she decided. "I've always favored
outside work over inside work."

"Yes, I've noticed that."

"And I love animals of all kinds. Don't you?"

"Not real fond of cats." He glanced up, a slow smile
spreading across his features. Faith caught her breath, struck
by his handsomeness. He winked. "But I guess if you want
one, I can learn to live with it underfoot."

Her heart soared. She could finally have that kitten!
"Thank you. That will make me real happy." Giving the
horses' rumps a final pat, she moved away from the stall.

A short time later she came out of the house. Liza trailed
behind, shaking her head because Faith had donned clean
overalls.

Nicholas was hitching the wagon.

"Need some help?" Faith called. She trotted out to stand
beside him.

"I'm just finishing up here." He scowled at her appearance. He tripped over her feet, trying to get around her.