Love Thine Enemy (12 page)

Kayla’s face was downcast. “We’re sorry.”

“We just wanted to—”

“—look as pretty—”

“—as you do.” They fell silent and stared at their feet.

“Tell her the rest,” Sam said sternly.

“Let me guess,” Cheryl said, looking at Sam. “Bonkers is now pink?”

“No, but not because they didn’t try.”

“He wouldn’t hold still,” Lindy said, looking contrite.

“Harvey held still,” Sam told her. “My prize breeding bull has hot pink hooves.”

While Cheryl had learned that Harvey really was a gentle giant, she blanched at the thought of these two
crawling into his pen and painting his feet. He could have trampled them without even trying. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I thought they were downstairs, honest.”

“They’re going to be—in their room until supper time and no TV tonight. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they agreed together, and left the room.

When they were out of earshot, Cheryl burst into laughter. “A bull with pink toenails. This I’ve got to go see.”

Sam shook his head, but he was grinning too. “I plan on moving him into the Hazy Creek pasture with four new cows on Saturday. I just hope the heifers don’t get jealous. Buying nail polish for the entire herd could bankrupt me.”

“I’m out of pink, but I’ve got some red you can borrow if that will help keep the peace.”

Sam chuckled. “No thanks. I came in to tell you that Walter’s going into Council Grove tomorrow. If you want, you and the twins can ride along. Kayla says her boots are pinching her toes. Do you think you can help her find some new ones? I would take her, but I’ve got another meeting with my firm.”

Cheryl hesitated. Each time she went to town, she was courting disaster. What if someone recognized her?

Sam noticed her hesitation. “Forget I mentioned it. I can’t keep adding more and more to your duties.”

How could she deny him anything? In truth, she didn’t want to. “I think a temporary ninny should be able to manage a new pair of shoes.”

“Thanks. And I mean for everything you do.”

Cheryl held the memory of his warm gaze close to her heart all day long.

Finding a new pair of boots in town Friday afternoon turned out to be easy enough. Cheryl and the girls finished their shopping a full half hour before the time Walter had agreed to pick them up.

“What shall we do now?” Cheryl asked.

“We could get some ice cream,” Lindy suggested.

“That sounds good,” Cheryl agreed.

She began walking toward the river that divided the town. The girls skipped along beside her, chattering happily. They crossed the bridge, and Cheryl saw the town had added a new statue on the east bank as she passed a larger-than-life bronze figure of a Kaw Indian warrior. Across the street stood the monument of the Madonna of the Plains, a pioneer woman looking westward with her children at her side. The small Kansas town was fiercely proud of its place in the history of the West.

The bright red ice-cream shop stood sandwiched between the street and the sloping bank of the river. Once they had their cones, the girls ran back to play around the Indian statue, and Cheryl followed along behind them. She was admiring the artist’s work when the sound of squealing tires pierced the stillness. She looked up to see a battered green-and-white pickup swerving to miss a car that had stopped to turn. The pickup accelerated and sped out of town.

Cheryl watched with a sense of unease as the weaving green-and-white truck disappeared down the highway. She turned to the girls. “We told Walter we’d meet him in front of the shoe store. We’d better hurry.”

The twins eagerly displayed their new boots for Walter, but Cheryl herded the girl into his truck and quickly climbed in after them, happy to be heading back to the seclusion of the ranch.

The twins came barreling into Cheryl’s room early the next morning. Kayla tried to wrest the covers away from Cheryl while Lindy jumped up and down on the bed.

“Come on!”

“You’ve got to get dressed.”

“We’ll be late for church—”

“—if you don’t hurry.”

“Girls, please,” Cheryl pleaded. “I’m not going to church.”

“What?” Lindy collapsed in a heap at the foot of the bed. Kayla let go of the blanket and the sisters exchanged shocked looks.

“But it’s Sunday,” Kayla said.

Lindy leaned forward. “We all go to church on Sunday.”

Cheryl pulled the covers up to her chin. “Sunday is a day of rest, right? Okay, I’m resting.”

The twins moved to stand side by side at the foot of the bed. They exchanged puzzled glances.

Lindy said, “How will God know you’re thankful for the things He’s given you if you don’t go to His house and tell Him?”

They waited for her to answer.

Looking at their serious faces, Cheryl couldn’t find it in herself to offer another excuse or to dismiss their beliefs out of hand. Their faith was important to them. A faith as strong as the one Sam and his family shared was something that had been missing in her own life. She found it was something she wanted to learn more about. After all, she had many, many things to be thankful for.

Kayla took her hand. “Please come with us.”

Perhaps now was the time to show some courage. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Scoot out of here so I can get dressed.”

They exchanged glowing smiles and dashed from the room. Cheryl heard them yelling the news at their father. She couldn’t hear his reply, but she was certain that Sam would be every bit as pleased as the twins.

Later that morning, inside the pretty stone church on the edge of Council Grove, Cheryl found herself seated between Sam and the girls. She had worn her hair down so that it partially hid her face if she kept her head bowed. Glancing around carefully, she saw several faces in the crowded pews that looked familiar. Speculative glances were being cast in her direction but she couldn’t tell if it was because she looked familiar to them or if it was because she was with Sam. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. She took a deep breath to keep from bolting out the door.

The organist began playing and the congregation joined in the hymn. Sam held his songbook so that she could see the words. The tiny invitation lightened her heart and made her forget for a moment that she had anything to hide. She added her voice to the chorus and set her worries aside.

After the hymn, the young pastor moved to the pulpit. “Good morning, brothers and sisters. In case any of you haven’t noticed, it’s springtime outside.”

That brought a sprinkling of laughter from the people around her, and Cheryl smiled as well.

“Springtime,” he continued. “A time for new beginnings. A time for renewal, both of the land and of our hearts. And of our spirits. I’d like talk to you today about learning to accept the way God has chosen to
arrange our lives. How for us, His children, He has made a time for everything. I would like to read to you now from Ecclesiastes, chapter three. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:

Cheryl listened to his sermon with a sense of wonder. It was as if God had arranged the world so that she would be here to listen to these passages today. The words on the sundial came to life in the voice of the young pastor and Cheryl opened her heart to hear them.

A time to mend. A time to be silent and a time to speak.
Was God offering her a chance to mend her life? Was the time to be silent passing and the time to speak out at hand?

She looked over at Sam and caught his eye. He smiled and she was so very glad the twins had convinced her to come. This was the life Sam wanted her
to know. Was it possible? If only she dared believe that it could be.

At the end of the service, her old fears came creeping back. She made her way out of the church slowly on her crutches. Outside, she saw the congregation had broken up into smaller groups of friends and families eager to visit and exchange news. Many of the people were looking at her with frank curiosity. She kept her head down.

Sam remained at her side. “Are you okay?”

“My foot is aching terribly. Can we go home?” She used her ready excuse to avoid meeting Sam’s friends and neighbors.

“Sure.”

His solicitous care the rest of the day pricked her conscience, but she wasn’t ready to bare her soul, to risk her happiness on the chance that she wouldn’t be accepted. But that night, she asked Walter if she could borrow his Bible. She took it to her room and read until the early hours of the morning.

Monday morning Kayla came into the kitchen and laid several envelopes on the counter. “Is there anything for us? Grandma said she’d write to us.”

“Let me see.” Cheryl picked up the mail and sorted through it until she discovered a white envelope with her name on it. It didn’t have a return address or a postmark, she noted. Someone must have left it in the mailbox.

“Nothing for you,” she told the girls. When they left the room, she tore open the letter, pulled out a single sheet of paper, and stared at the message. In block letters in the middle of the page were the words,

LEAVE NOW!

W
ho could have written the ominous note and why? Cheryl continued to puzzle over the question two days later while she waited for Dr. Carlton to finish examining her foot. Merci Slader was the obvious choice, but she didn’t seem to have trouble voicing her sentiments in person, so why the cryptic nature of the note? The other possibility was that someone had recognized her. Someone who didn’t want to confront her face-to-face.

“Your fractures are healing well,” Dr. Carlton’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I think we can trade in this cast for a heavy splint if you promise to take it easy.”

Cheryl agreed and waited impatiently as he cut through the thick plaster. The footgear he replaced it with reminded her of a cumbersome ski boot.

When he was finished, the doctor scribbled a note on her chart, then paused and peered at her over the edge of his glasses. “How’s Sam feeling?” he asked.

“Fine.” She couldn’t help the foolish grin that spread across her face.

“That’s good,” Dr. Carlton muttered absently.

A light tap sounded on the door, and Merci opened it. “Doctor, you have a call holding.” She ignored Cheryl completely.

Cheryl stood and tested her balance on the new splint.

“Thank you, Merci,” he said. “If you’ll wait a second, I’ll be done with this chart. Ms. Steele, these are your instructions for care of this splint. Oh, by the way,” he said, glancing at Cheryl, “I solved the mystery of why I thought I’d met you before.”

“You did?” Cold prickles of fear crept down Cheryl’s spine.

“Yes, you bear a striking resemblance to a patient I had—oh—it must have been about fifteen years ago.” He continued writing on her chart. “Such a beautiful, sad woman. I only saw her once.”

“And you remember her after all this time?” Merci asked.

“Yes. She came in with a broken wrist. From the type of fracture and other bruises, and after meeting her husband, I suspected that he might have done it. I never found out for sure. She died tragically in a car accident right after she left my office.”

Cheryl felt the blood drain from her face, and she groped behind her for the exam table.

“Her name was Mira Thatcher,” he added, snapping the chart shut. “I don’t suppose you could be related? The resemblance is remarkable.”

Cheryl gripped the edge of the table. He’d known her mother. He must have been one of the last people to see her alive. Dozens of questions poured through her mind. She wanted to ask him about everything that had happened that day. She looked up and met Merci’s speculative stare across the room.

“You mean that thieving Thatcher bunch?” Merci asked with a sneer, taking the chart he handed her.

Cheryl turned and reached, with a hand that wasn’t quite steady, for her purse on the chair against the wall.

Dr. Carlton said, “They’re not exactly the sort of relatives one would want to claim. They’re rather infamous, locally. Doris Thatcher still lives on the family ranch.”

“And you know she isn’t playing with a full deck,” Merci said. “She’s in this office every other week with some new complaint. The woman is a hypochondriac.”

“Merci,” the doctor chided. “We can’t talk about our patients in front of others. You know that.”

“Well, the whole family is a bunch of no-good thieves.”

The doctor scowled at her over the rim of his glasses. “They aren’t exactly the James Gang.”

“Close enough. Even the kids helped the old man steal cattle. My dad’s cousin was one of the deputies that arrested them. He said Hank and his son gave up easy enough, but the older girl lit out of the barn on a big, black horse before anyone could stop her. She ran down one of the deputies and nearly killed him. They chased her across country for more than five miles before her horse gave out.”

“What happened to them?” Cheryl asked, desperate to know if her whereabouts was common knowledge.

Dr. Carlton stroked his chin with one hand. “The father and son went to prison. I believe Hank died there. Liver cancer, if I remember right. The son got out about a year ago.”

Merci nodded. “He lives out with the old woman. Cattle still disappear around here. We know who’s re
sponsible, but the sheriff says he can’t prove it. One of these days, Thatcher will slip up and go straight back to prison where he belongs.”

The doctor stuffed his pen in his pocket. “I don’t know what happened to the girls. Doris never mentions them.”

Merci’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay, Ms. Steele? You look a bit pale.”

Cheryl forced a smile to her stiff lips. “I’m fine. At least you didn’t hang them. Isn’t that what they do to—what’s the term?”

“Rustlers,” Dr. Carlton supplied.

“Ah, yes.” Cheryl nodded.

He chuckled. “We don’t hang horse thieves or rustlers any more, Miss Steele. Kansas has modern law enforcement, just like they do in New York.”

“Of course. I guess I’ve seen one too many movies.” Cheryl felt tiny droplets of sweat forming on her forehead. The air seemed thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. She fought to remain calm. No one had forgotten or forgiven her and her family. She had been so foolish to stay.

She left the doctor’s office and crossed the parking lot to the pickup Sam had loaned her for the day just as Merci Slader caught up with her. “Ms. Steele, you forgot your instructions.”

Cheryl took the paper Merci held out. “Thank you.”

“I thought you’d be gone long before now.”

“Did you?” Cheryl struggled to keep her composure as she opened the truck door.

Merci’s hand shot out and grabbed the door. “I think we both know it’s time for you to move on. Sam and the girls don’t need the help of an outsider.”

Cheryl looked the woman in the eye. “I think that’s for Sam to decide, not you. I don’t like threats—of any kind. That includes the notes you’ve been sending me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get back to the ranch.” She jerked the door out of Merci’s hand,

“You don’t belong here. I won’t stand by and watch Sam be hurt again.” With that, Merci spun on her heels and walked away.

Cheryl sank onto the truck seat, and her shoulders slumped in defeat. Merci was right. It was past time for her to leave. If Dr. Carlton had recognized her resemblance to her mother, then others could, too. She was risking everything she had worked for by staying.

In her head, she knew she should go, but in her heart, she longed to find a way to hold on to the first true taste of happiness she had ever known. With a weary sigh, she bowed her head and sought help.
God, if You’re listening to me, please show me what to do.

Sam and Walter stood in the barn, watching as Doc Wilson carried the tiny, spotted fawn in from his van. The vet settled the baby on a bed of thick straw and began showing the twins how to bottle-feed him. Sam and Walter stood outside the stall and watched as the girls made over their new pet.

Lindy grinned. “He’s so cute.”

“We’ll call him Bambi,” Kayla stated.

“Why does he have spots?”

“Won’t Bonkers love him?”

“Can he sleep in our room?”

“Please!” they pleaded together.

Bonkers stalked up to his competition with his tail stiff in the air. He stretched out his neck and sniffed at the fawn with obvious suspicion. The deer sneezed, and Bonkers jumped in fright. Everyone burst out laughing as the cat took off.

Doc slapped Sam’s shoulder. “He’s your problem now, Sam. If you need me for anything else, just call.”

The twins sat cross-legged in the straw and took turns holding the bottle as the fawn nursed eagerly.

“Can Bambi come in the house?” Lindy asked.

“No,” Sam stressed. “You aren’t to take him outside of this stall. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Lindy’s lips tightened briefly in a pout.

“What are you going to do with him when he gets too big for the stall?” Cheryl asked from behind them.

“I don’t have a clue.” Sam smiled at her, feeling foolishly happy. Whenever she was out of his sight, he worried that he’d seen the last of her. Whenever she was near him, he felt as happy and carefree as a kid again.

“If we bottle-raise him, he’ll be too tame to turn loose,” Walter said.

“Why don’t you see if the zoo in Wichita or Kansas City will take him?” she suggested.

“That’s a good idea,” Walter admitted.

She stepped inside the stall and knelt down. “He is an adorable baby, isn’t he?” she said, stroking his sleek head. “Won’t he be lonesome out here in the barn?”

The men glanced at each other and rolled their eyes.

“Speaking of babies,” Walter said. “What’s the latest on Becky?”

“Mom called today,” Sam said. “Becky is still on strict bed rest at home. Mom couldn’t give me any idea
when she’ll be able to come home. It looks like she’ll be there until the baby’s born. It could be another month.”

“Poor Becky,” Walter said. “I’ll bet she’s ready to go nuts staying in bed while Eleanor runs her house.”

“I’ll bet she is, too,” Sam agreed. “Doc, I’ve got a mare who’s overdue. Can you take a look at her for me before you go?”

“Sure.”

“It’s Flying Lady’s first foal, and I’m a little worried.” Sam and Walter walked out of the barn with the young vet, and Cheryl stayed behind with the twins.

“What happened to Bambi’s mommy?” Kayla asked.

“She ran to safety when the pasture was burned,” Cheryl replied, petting the fawn’s head.

“Why did she leave her baby behind?”

“I think he was too little to run away, and she knew that we would take care of him.”

“Will he miss her?” Lindy asked.

Cheryl stroked his slender neck and watched him guzzle his milk as she pondered her answer. “He will, but not very much if you give him lots of love and attention.”

Lindy smiled at Cheryl. “Like you give us?”

“What?” Cheryl’s heart stumbled a beat as her glance flew to Lindy’s face.

Kayla slipped her arms around Cheryl and laid her head against her side. “You give us lots of love—”

“—like a real mommy does,” Lindy added.

Kayla sighed wistfully, “I wish you could be our mommy.”

“For real,” Lindy said.

A lump rose in Cheryl’s throat. A longing she’d been unable to put into words swept over her. She stroked
Kayla’s soft curls and bent to kiss the top of her head. “Darlings, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

The fawn finished his bottle, and Lindy turned to Cheryl.

“So, why can’t you—”

“—stay and be our mother?”

Cheryl stared at their upturned, trusting face. “It’s so complicated.”

“Don’t you like us?”

Cheryl reached out and drew Lindy close. “Of course I do, it isn’t that.”

“Is it ’cause you have to be a ballerina?” Kayla asked.

“That’s part of the reason.”

“Don’t ballerinas have kids?” Lindy looked at Cheryl with a puzzled frown.

“Some of them do,” Cheryl admitted.

“Then why can’t you be our mommy
and
a ballerina?” Kayla insisted. “You could go to work like Daddy does. Grandma would take care of us while you’re gone.”

“Honey, it isn’t that easy.” She gazed at their eager faces. Their world was still so simple and so innocent. They would never know a brutal and unkind father because they had Sam. She had no way to make them understand what her life had been like—the shame and humiliation she had known for simply being who she was. The same shame and humiliation that waited for her now if her identity were discovered.

She pulled the girls into a tight embrace. “I can’t stay. I wish I could, but I can’t. I love both of you very much. Always remember that. Promise me you’ll always remember that, no matter what anyone tells you.”

“We promise,” Kayla said, and Lindy nodded.

Sam watched Cheryl toy with her food at the supper table while the twins talked nonstop about their new pet. They finished the meal quickly and begged to be allowed to go back to the barn. A nod from him sent them running out the door.

“You’re quiet tonight, New York. Is your foot bothering you? I noticed you got rid of your cast.”

She gave him a weak smile. “It aches a little. This splint is lighter, and I can walk better, but it still leaves something to be desired as far as footwear goes.”

“Oh, before I forget, you got a letter today.” He rose and searched through the stack of mail by the phone. “Here it is.”

She stared at the long, white envelope for a moment, then took it and stuffed it in the pocket of her jeans.

“Do you think you can ride in that splint?” Sam asked.

“Ride?” She shot him a puzzled look.

“I thought we might go for a ride tonight. The moon will be full. It might be fun to try it without the snow. What do you say?”

Her eyes brightened and a smile curved her beautiful mouth. He’d never get tired of seeing her smile, he realized. The phone rang before she could answer him.

“Hold that thought,” Sam said and answered the phone.

“Hi, Sam.” The sound of Merci’s low voice purred in his ear.

“Hi, Merci. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I could catch a ride to the school board meeting with you tonight? My car’s in the shop.”

“Merci, I don’t think I can make it tonight.”

“The bond issue is being voted on, Sam. You have to come. We need your support on this.”

She was right. He couldn’t let his responsibility to the community slide because he wanted to go for a moonlight ride. “Okay, sure, I can give you a lift.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, that would be wonderful.”

Sam glanced at Cheryl. He’d much rather spend the evening with her, but he said, “It’s no trouble. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Cheryl. “I’m sorry. I completely forgot about the school board meeting tonight. Maybe we can work in that ride after I get home?”

“Sure.”

The brightness left her eyes. She looked down and began to toy with her food again. For a minute, he was tempted to skip his meeting, but his sense of duty got the better of him. The bond issue was important to his children’s future.