Linda Ford (11 page)

Eventually, she cried herself dry. Too weak and spent to move, she remained in his arms as he stroked her hair. Gratefully he didn’t seem to have a need to talk. She couldn’t have said an intelligible word at the moment.

“Look.” He pointed toward the sky. “Oh, you missed it.”

But another flared across the sky. “That was a big one,” she said.

“Good thing they burn up before they hit the earth.”

She considered the idea. “Do you think there is a reason for bad things?”

He was quiet a moment. “I don’t think God sends bad things. Wouldn’t that make Him evil? But I think He can turn them into something good. Maybe He does so with such skill that we sometimes think He arranged the bad things.”

She nodded. His words made more sense than the empty things well-meaning friends had said when her babies died.
This is God’s will. They are far better where they are now...back with God.
“I don’t see how God can make something good out of my babies’ deaths.”

His arm tightened across her shoulder. “Maybe the good is only found in God, not in our own hearts.”

She tried to think what he meant but could not. “I don’t understand.”

He shifted to look into her eyes. He was close enough she could feel his breath on her cheek, but it was too dark to see his expression. “I think what I am trying to say is if I look inside, just at me, I see the hurt, the pain, the missing pieces. But if I look at God, maybe even let Him move into that area of my heart, I see wholeness, healing and love. Does that make sense?” He sat back. “I’m not much good with words.”

She touched his cheek, liking the feel of his rough whiskers. “Your words are more than adequate and yes, it makes sense. I was somehow thinking God would make me forget the pain of my past. But you make me consider that maybe I can’t forget, shouldn’t even try. I can only let God cover it with His love.” An awesome truth filled her heart. “God’s love is bigger than my pain.”

He gently caught her upper arms. “You say it much better than I do but that’s exactly what I meant.” He studied her, with her face toward the sky, seeing her better than she saw him. “Cassie, I am so sorry about your babies. I can’t imagine your pain.”

And yet the way his voice deepened, she felt he understood better than George had. “I’ve never before admitted to anyone how much it hurt.” She pressed her palm to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He captured her hand, turned to press his lips to her palm.

She saw he meant to kiss her. She hesitated half a beat and then she lifted her face toward him. It was only a kiss. A thank-you for his comfort. The final act of releasing her sorrow.

His lips caught hers, warm, gentle and yet...

Her heart lifted on gossamer wings and fluttered gently, soothingly, sweetly.

He hesitated as if he meant to end the kiss but she clung to him, not ready for it to be over. She’d been kissed many times. After all, she’d been married. But nothing before this had reached into a hitherto unknown corner of her heart and made her aware of a deep, bottomless longing.

Summoning every bit of strength, she forced herself to pull away. The kiss made something between them real. She didn’t know what to call it. Friendship? Understanding? Acknowledgment of shared emotions?

For now she was content to remain cradled against his side.

That thought didn’t seem quite right but she lacked the energy to examine it.

Half an hour later, they decided the meteorite shower had ended.

“I should go.” Cassie scrambled to her feet.

Roper bounded up and caught her hand. “Thank you for a nice evening.”

It was she who should thank him but how did one thank another for being allowed to soak the front of his shirt? Instead, she said, “It was nice.” And with a hurried good-night she headed away.

But Roper would have none of that. “I’ll see you safely back to the shack.” Again he caught her hand and guided her up the hill. They paused outside the shack. He pulled her close and she willing went back into his arms. A harbor for her pain. She pressed her cheek to his chest and heard the steady beat of his heart.

When he caught her chin in his fingers and lifted her face to him, she again welcomed his kiss.

And then he turned her toward the door. “Good night, Cassie.”

It wasn’t until she was safely inside the shack that she realized she hadn’t told him he wasn’t obligated to stay. Did she really need to do so? Did she even want to?

She wouldn’t answer the question. Not tonight.

Chapter Nine

R
oper grinned up at the star-filled sky.
Thank You, Jesus, that I was able to offer comfort to Cassie.

Back at his camp, he bent over his knees and groaned as pain chewed through him. Poor Cassie, losing her babies, then her husband. Oh, if only he could have spared her the pain. Or help her get past it.

But he couldn’t. He had to accept and trust that God would use it to create something special in her life.

He settled down on his blanket, remembering how Cassie snuggled close to watch the stars, then turned into his arms. He’d offered his kisses as comfort and understood she’d welcomed them as such.

Only it wasn’t comfort he felt in his heart. It was far more intense than sympathy.

He had nothing to offer Cassie except his two hands to build her house, his strength to drive in nails...

And his arms to offer comfort.

If only...

But he’d long ago accepted his reality. A man with no name. No past. And a lonely future. He’d learned to find satisfaction in making others happy. It was enough. His words to her echoed in his head. Did he truly let God fill the missing pieces in his heart? He had to. Nothing—no one—else could.

The next morning he climbed the bank with renewed determination to build Cassie’s house as quickly and sturdily as he could.

But when she glanced up, a shy smile trembling on her lips, he faltered. All his fine intentions did not erase the emotions he’d felt last night. He had to fight his way back to his objective of expecting nothing more than the chance to help her.

“Morning,” he called. “Everyone sleep well?”

He managed to act normal over the meal though his insides jumped every time Cassie moved, and holding her hand to say grace made his mouth run dry.

He took up her Bible, paused as he thought about the entries in the front. Of their own accord, his eyes sought hers.

They shared a silent memory of last night.

Realizing four youngsters watched him, Roper forced his attention back to the Bible. He opened to the bookmark and read, skipping over the names he couldn’t pronounce.

Then he again reached for her hand so he could pray for God’s safety and protection over them this day. Feeling her hand so firm in his own, gripping back as if she needed his strength, made him realize how much he wanted to be able to do this for her—and the children—day after day.

Don’t put down roots. You’ll only have them ripped out.
He knew the pain of such uprooting. He meant to avoid it.

He said amen, and jumped to his feet. “Time to get to work.”

Neil followed him over to the house and they set to sawing and hammering.

This was one thing he could do for her and one thing she would allow.

He bent his back to the task and worked with fervor. Only when Daisy called them for the noon meal did he realize Neil looked exhausted. Guilt blared through him. He’d worked the boy too hard. “After we’ve eaten we’ll rest.”

Neil almost folded with relief.

“Let’s all go down to the river,” he said as he sat down to eat.

“You and the children go ahead. I’ll see to the dishes.” Cassie looked hot and bothered as if she had worked at a frenzied pace all morning, as well.

“Seems we could all stand to cool off a bit.” The sun sucked the moisture from the air and poured heat into every corner. “A break will refresh us all.”

She didn’t answer, simply waited for him to say grace. Even her hand felt limp. A bit of flour dusted one cheek. Her hair was damp about the edges. No doubt she’d spent the morning baking bread and biscuits. The heat from the cook stove would practically melt her bones on a day like this.

He would somehow convince her to go to the river and cool off.

As soon as they finished eating he gathered the dishes, and stuck them in the dishpan. He grabbed the kettle, and poured hot water over the lot. “Let them soak and they’ll wash easier.”

She didn’t look convinced. “I need to get potatoes ready in case people come by for a meal.”

“If the men want a meal they’ll wait.”

She considered the idea.

“It’s not like they can go across the street to a competitor.” He could see her begin to relent. “’Sides, everyone knows your meals are worth waiting for.”

His praise accomplished its purpose and she nodded. “I wouldn’t mind cooling off.”

“Great.” He led them to the river. The children took off their shoes and stockings and played in the water. He scooted out of his boots and rolled up his jeans so he could keep a hand on Pansy and protect her. “Come on.” He waved toward Cassie. “This will cool you off.”

She remained on the shore.

The youngsters called her to join them.

“How can I resist?”

The question teased Roper into wondering exactly what she meant. Resist the invitation to paddle in the river? Or resist all the things he wanted to give her?

She dipped her hand into the water and shivered at the cold shock.

Daisy giggled. “It feels good once you get used to it.”

Neil splashed water on his face. “That sure cools me off.” He cupped a handful and poured it over his head.

Billy and Daisy followed his example, and laughed.

Roper and Cassie looked at each other, the silvery water between them, Pansy at his side dragging her hands through the water. Roper held out his other hand to Cassie. “Come on in. The water’s fine.”

Her gaze darted to his hand then his face, searching his eyes as if the invitation held a hidden message.

Perhaps it did.

He wanted her to learn to trust him. Realize he would always protect her and take care of her if she would let him. She slipped off her shoes and slowly, hesitantly, she lifted her hand to him.

He pulled her closer, laughing when she squealed as the cold water covered her feet and then rose to her ankles. She stopped inches away, her hand still resting in his. He smiled. “You’re safe.”

She nodded.

Neil flicked water at Daisy and soon the three older youngsters were soaked and laughing.

Pansy jumped up and down and squealed. She tugged at Roper’s hand trying to escape to join the others but Roper held on, knowing she would fall down in the water.

Suddenly the trio turned toward Cassie and Roper. He saw the mischief in their eyes in time to jerk about and plant himself between Cassie and the spray of water the children sent their way. He pulled her to his chest. She drew close, hiding from the splashes. Pansy gasped then screamed.

The water attack stopped. Roper turned to stare down at the little girl. Her eyes were wide. Had she been hurt?

Daisy plowed through the water and snatched up her sister. “You boys stop spraying. You’ve frightened her.” She pushed to dry ground and sat down, Pansy in her wet lap, crooning comfort.

The boys followed, and sat on either side of Daisy. “Sorry, Pansy,” Neil murmured. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

Billy stuck his face close to Pansy’s. “I’m sorry, too. Please don’t cry.”

Cassie remained pressed to Roper’s chest. He held her close, wanting to protect her from more than a spray of cold water. She clutched his shirtfront and her cheek pressed to his shoulder as if she found welcoming shelter.

Suddenly she jerked away, darted him a red-cheeked glance then headed toward the children.

He followed, making no effort to hide his grin. He’d seen the flash of awareness before embarrassment burned it away. And he knew without a doubt that she had enjoyed being protected in his arms.

It was enough for now.

Again, warning words flashed across his brain.
What happens later?
He’d have to leave. But he’d always known that. At least he could be at peace as he moved on, knowing he’d helped her.

His mental argument failed to provide the comfort he sought.

He joined them, knelt beside Daisy and stroked Pansy’s head. “You okay, little one?”

She sobbed, and leaned out for him to take her.

His heart tightened as he cradled the child to his shoulder, shushing her and patting her back. Cassie watched. Was she remembering being comforted in the same way?

He shifted Pansy to one side and reached out a hand for Cassie.

Ignoring his outstretched arm, she said, “Guess it’s time to get back to work.” She sat down to put on her shoes. He realized he stood barefoot and scrubbed his feet on his pant legs and sat down to put on his own footwear.

Pansy scrambled away to retrieve her shoes and stockings, and handed them to Roper.

A few minutes later they climbed the hill. Roper, with Neil at his side, returned to work on the house. Billy trailed after them.

Roper hummed as he worked, satisfied Cassie had allowed him to comfort her.

The aroma of stewing meat and cooking potatoes filled the air with pleasant thoughts. A man should enjoy such comforts all the days of his life.

He straightened so fast he sent a board skidding away.

Here he was—a nobody—dreaming of a future that he couldn’t own. Forbidden dreams and hopes pushed at the barred door in the back of his heart. Not only were they forbidden, they were impossible. His humming silenced. He bent his back and heart into doing for Cassie what he could—build her a house.

If he hadn’t been so intent on driving away senseless dreams with every hammer blow he might have noticed the arrival of company before Neil said, “Lane is here.”

Roper spun around. Yup. It was Lane. With a bouquet of wildflowers stuck in a tin can that still wore a label indicating the contents had been tomatoes.

Lane stood with the flowers in one hand, his hat in the other.

Roper eyed the hat. Black. Looked to be all new and fancy. What happened to the battered gray thing he wore the other day?

Cassie, in the shack, had not seen the man standing awkwardly in her yard.

Daisy came out with potato peelings and saw him. Her eyes narrowed and she backed into the shack. “You got company.”

Cassie stepped out, drying her hands on her apron. “Lane?”

Roper tried to decide if it was only surprise that made her word sound breathless.

“Thought you might like some flowers.” Lane took a step closer and held out the bouquet.

Cassie darted a glance at Roper as if silently asking him what this meant. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched without letting any of his emotions show in his face. He should be happy if a man wanted to court her. Didn’t she deserve every bit of happiness she could find? But an emotion totally opposed to gratitude raged through his veins.

Cassie took the flowers and buried her nose in them. “Umm. They smell good. Thank you.” She set the tin can in the middle of the table.

“F’owers.” Pansy rushed forward.

Daisy lifted her, and let her sniff them.

“Like f’owers,” Pansy declared.

Roper studied the flowers. Purple bells. Pink roses. White something or other. Yellow ones. Lots of them. Did the man spend his entire life gathering flowers? “Some of us have work to do.” He grabbed his hammer and pounded a nail into place. What good were flowers? Except he’d seen the pleasure in Cassie’s eyes as she admired them.

He kept his back to the others as he drove home nail after nail. He tried not to hear the murmur of their voices. Forced himself not to imagine Cassie smiling at Lane.

And faced a harsh truth.

He wanted to give her more than help and safety. And he didn’t want Lane giving her anything. Somehow, without his notice, and certainly without his permission, his feelings had shifted beyond simply wanting to help. They had developed deeper than wanting only to make her happy. As if he could even dream of anything more.

Neil slipped away to join the conversation around the table leaving Roper alone to face his mental struggle.

He resented not knowing who he was. More than that, he abhorred his weakness in not following his own rules.

What had he told Cassie last night? That God provided wholeness and healing? But did God provide an identity? Because Roper felt like nobody at the moment. A nameless child with no past.

No future.

Nothing he could share.

* * *

Flowers? Cassie alternately looked from them to the face of the cowboy who brought them. Sure, flowers were nice. The bouquet brightened the table. But what did he want?

Roper continued pounding away on her house, the noise blasting against the inside of her skull. Lane sat with his elbows on the table telling her about his oat crop. His words rushed through her head with the insistence of raging water.

She glanced at Roper. If he would join them she’d feel she could go back to the shack without being rude. How was she to get the meal cooked if she had to entertain Lane?

But Roper hammered relentlessly. Her eyes bored into him. He so often went on about how he wanted to help her. Well, here was his chance. He could march himself over here and visit with Lane.

But her scowl landed on his back without causing him to flinch. Certainly without making him turn to see what she needed.

Fine. She’d manage without his help. Just as she meant to from the start. “You’ll have to excuse me. I have work.” She waved toward the shack.

Lane leaped to his feet. “Don’t mean to be in your way. I’ll just hang about until the meal is ready, if you don’t mind.”

“No. That’s fine.” Feeding people was what she did. She glanced at the flowers before she hurried to the shack.

Lane was still at the table when she heard others arrive and she hustled out to take count.

Six paying customers even though she knew the two drovers would each eat enough for three ordinary men.

Her business was growing. A glow of satisfaction warmed her insides.

She left Daisy to set the table while she went inside to get the food. As she turned, she came up short, almost slamming the pot of potatoes into Roper. She staggered, caught her balance and favored him with a narrow-eyed look she hoped conveyed more than surprise. She wanted him to know how annoyed she was with him.

He grinned unrepentantly as if pleased at getting her attention, even in a negative fashion. “I’ll help you.”

She hesitated, wanting to prove she didn’t need help. The pot grew heavy in her arms as she mentally argued with her pride. But pride mattered little when there was work to be done and men to be fed. His assistance would mean half as many trips back and forth in the heat. She didn’t have the strength to say no. Truth be told she was glad to see him after being ignored for the past hour. She would have scolded herself for such foolishness but she didn’t have the time. The men wolfed down food as fast as it appeared. She’d held back enough to feed Roper and the children later or they would likely have cleaned her out. The children and Roper could have eaten with the men. Probably would have been simpler. But there was something cozy about the six of them eating alone, without these hungry men sharing their table.