Renewing Love

by Linda Ford

  She trotted to the barn. Halfway across the yard she stopped. Did she hear a footstep? Her neck muscles twitched. Hardly daring to breathe, she scanned her surroundings and slowly turned to take in the entire area. The leaves on the trees by the veranda fluttered. But then, a zephyr of a wind blew, so that shouldn’t surprise her. She strained to hear anything unusual. Two crows flew from the trees, squawking and chasing each other. Nothing unusual about that. Songbirds sang from the branches. The distant murmur of the river. Normal sounds. Nothing to be alarmed about.

  But she’d heard something. She was sure of it. Here she was, miles from anywhere, basically alone, with two older, incapacitated ladies to care for. What would she do if there was an intruder?

  She turned around once more, saw nothing that should alarm her. Was she being overly imaginative? After all, this was the first time she’d been so far from friends and family.

  That’s what it was. She sucked in air. Enough seeing danger when there wasn’t any. She continued toward the barn. The interior was dim. Her heart stalled. What if someone lurked in the shadows? She drew in the scent of hay, horses, and leather and, lingering at the edges, the feeling that Cole had been there. A thought that stiffened her spine. She would not give him any more reason to see her as…whatever it was he saw. Then her eyes adjusted, and she spied a hammer hanging from the wall and hurried over to get it.

  Now she was armed. She chuckled at the idea but even if it was silly, she felt a lot better.

  She hurried back to the house, pausing on the veranda to glance behind her. Still nothing but birds and trees, and flies buzzing around the door. She shooed them away and returned to the room.

  “Took you long enough,” Alice complained. “You have to go to town to buy a new hammer?”

  “Allie,” Nancy scolded. “She wasn’t gone that long. She couldn’t have made it any further than the Cartwrights.”

  The pair laughed at their joking.

  Eve wished they were close enough to Reese and Victoria’s place that she could so easily slip over. She pried off the lid of the crate and stood back as Alice looked in. Nancy wheeled close enough to see as well.

  Alice unwrapped an object. “Our lamp. I’d forgotten that.” She patted it like it was an old friend.

  “Hand me that, Eve.” Nancy pointed.

  Eve handed a bulky object to Nancy, who folded back the protective blanket to reveal a figurine of a black-haired little girl with her apron full of purple flowers.

  Nancy sat back. Alice sank to the edge of the bed.

  “Mama’s little girl.” Nancy kissed the figurine and handed it to Alice, who crooned over it like a baby.

  Nancy swiped away a tear. “Mama always said this reminded her of her two daughters. Though only Alice had blonde hair. Mine was darker, but nowhere near as dark as this.” She touched her hair. “Now we both have the same color.”

  “Gray,” Alice said.

  “Silver,” Nancy corrected, and they both laughed. Nancy eyed Eve. “This little girl is more like you with your black hair.” She sighed, and gingerly set the figurine on the bed.

  Piece by piece they went through the crate, unearthing treasures of their life.

  Eve lifted out the cross-stitch pictures, framed and ready to hang. One was of a vase of pink roses, the petals of one flower falling to the table with a blue-sky-filled window behind the arrangement. The other was of a field of purple wild flowers with a child bent over picking a bouquet.

  “These are beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” Aunt Nancy said. “Will you hang them over our beds for us?”

  “Of course, but I’ll have to find some nails. I suppose I’ll find them in the barn?”

  “That would be my guess,” Alice said.

  Eve took the pictures into the ladies’ bedroom. She kept the hammer with her. She did not intend to venture out there unarmed. She paused on the veranda to look around. Did she really expect to see something? Of course not. She was being silly.

  Nevertheless, she crossed to the barn in a rush and again paused to get used to the dim interior. It took a few minutes of poking around to find some nails, then she rushed back to the house. She paused to catch her breath before she joined the ladies. A few minutes later she hung the pictures for them.

  Nancy and Alice were content to sort through another box while Eve prepared dinner.

  The ladies napped after they’d eaten. Eve put the bread to bake, then went to the well for water to wash the dishes. She lowered the bucket and brought up half a pail of sand. She groaned, knowing she would have to fetch water from the river.

  First, she would wait for the bread to bake. A short time later, she put four loaves on the work table to cool, then took two buckets and began her journey. Drawn by the cool and peace by the river, she sank to the grassy bank and rested. When she couldn’t delay any longer, she scooped her buckets full and made her way back to the house. It was uphill, and the buckets were heavy. Water sloshed over the hem of her skirts. She slowed to keep from spilling any more.

  She reached the house, put the buckets in the kitchen, flexed her arms, and stared at the worktable. Only three loaves of bread remained.

  Soft snores informed her the ladies slept. She couldn’t imagine they had left their slumbers to eat an entire loaf of bread.

  But where was the missing loaf?

  She looked through the window. Had it been a varmint? She eased the sash down and shivered. The noise might have been her imagination, but this wasn’t.

  For the first time since Reese had brought her to this place, she wished Cole was there.

  A deeply buried fear skittered across her neck. This was just like back then. She was five, Flora, three. Their older brother, Timmy, had gone for help when their mama was so sick. Eve was left alone with Flora. Every sound, every shadow, swelled with menace.

  She squared her shoulders. She was no longer a child. The darkness no longer held dangers.

  But she was awfully glad when the ladies wakened and joined her in the kitchen.

  The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly enough, then night descended, and with it, deep shadows. After Nancy and Alice went to bed, Eve remained at the table, the lamp lit in front of her. She startled when the wind rattled the door and jerked her head up when a distant coyote howled.

  So much for telling herself she wasn’t afraid of the dark. She marched to her room, prepared for bed, and turned out the lamp.

  She lay in the dark. After she’d been adopted by the Kinsleys, Ma had taught her how to calm herself. Eve repeated one of the verses she had memorized for that purpose. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.

  She finally slept, with no dreams disrupting her slumbers

  The next morning, she determined she would not give in to her childish fears. She made two more trips to the river to get water and told herself she did not hear a rustle in the trees that was out of place. Probably some wild animal waiting for her to leave so it could drink. Nevertheless, she returned to the house as quickly as she could without spilling her water.

  The ladies were busy sorting through the yarn they’d retrieved from a crate. Armed with determination and a hoe, Eve returned to the garden.

  The day passed quickly, but as she prepared supper, she admitted she dreaded the night. Despite telling herself there wasn’t anything to fear, she was at a loss to explain the missing loaf of bread and an empty plate that once held a handful of cookies. She didn’t recall seeing either of the ladies go to the worktable where the plate was, but one of them must have done so when Eve was out of the house.

  Eve had taken to closing the doors and windows tightly

  “It’s like an oven in here,” Alice complained. “Eve, could you open the place up and let in some air?”

  Nancy studied Eve. “You aren’t getting sick, are you?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Eve pushed up the windows and opened both doors. For
several seconds, she stared out the back door toward the barn. She wasn’t afraid. After all, she was no longer five years old.

  As she prepared supper, the sound of a horse approaching made her heart jerk. Who would be calling?

  Cole rode into the yard and went directly to the barn. He’d planned to stay away several days and could not explain to anyone—least of all, himself—why he’d changed his mind.

  He tended his horse, and then made his way to the house. The aromas from the kitchen made him lengthen his stride.

  Three ladies looked at him as he stepped inside.

  “We didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Ma said. “Is something wrong?”

  There was bread on the worktable. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed bread, although he’d bought a loaf from the local storekeeper on his way here.

  “Nothing wrong. In fact, things are so good, I decided I didn’t need to linger out there. The cows are grazing happily in a little valley. I’m pleased to see how good they look. I wasn’t sure if Bob would have taken proper care of them.” He suspected he said far more than any of them cared, but he had to make it understood that he’d only come back because the cows were all right. Not because he dreamed of a good hot meal, nor because he wondered how Eve was managing.

  That wasn’t quite what he meant. He had no doubt she could run a house efficiently. All the Kinsley girls had been well taught by their mother. No, he had begun to think maybe she’d see that ranch living was pleasant. Not scary, like going to the gold fields.

  And why he should think that, he could not explain. So, he decided the best thing to do was get back home and get his thoughts straightened out.

  “You’re just in time for supper.” Eve carried a platter of fried meat to the table.

  “Will there be enough?”

  Aunt Alice pulled the serving dishes close. “You can have whatever we don’t eat.”

  He looked from the bowl of mashed potatoes to his aunt’s stubborn expression. “You’re going to make sure I only get the scrapings, aren’t you?”

  Aunt Alice pretended to give her answer much thought. “I might leave a spoonful…a small spoonful.”

  Cole chuckled. “I know better. I’m your favorite nephew, and you’ll make sure I don’t go hungry.”

  She sniffed. “Of course, you’re my only nephew.”

  His aunt and mother both laughed. Aunt Alice had never married and had lived with them as long as Cole could remember. He was genuinely fond of her and her teasing.

  “There’s lots,” Eve said.

  They sat around the table. Cole offered a prayer of thanks for the food. He almost added a thanks for Eve’s help but thought better of it. He didn’t want any of the three ladies getting the wrong idea.

  He put potatoes, green beans, and meat on his plate.

  Eve passed him a pitcher of gravy. Their gazes caught and momentarily held.

  In his mind he returned to Verdun, Ohio, and sat around the table with the Kinsley family.

  “I remember you teaching Victoria how to make pan gravy.” He hadn’t meant to speak of the memory. But he smiled. They had shared pleasant times back then. He had liked to be part of the crowd around the table, laughing and discussing all sorts of things.

  On this particular occasion, he’d ignored the conversation as he watched Eve carefully instruct Victoria, who had become part of the family after losing her family and her memory in a train accident.

  Eve smiled, her eyes full of sweetness.

  He wondered if she was remembering the occasion with the same fondness he did. Or was she thinking only of her family?

  “Poor Victoria. There were so many things she didn’t remember. But as it turns out, making gravy wasn’t one of them. She’d never learned how.” Eve’s eyes sparkled. “Did Reese tell you what we recently learned about her?”

  “No. We really didn’t talk much. He welcomed me as a new neighbor and asked about my family. When I told him the ladies needed help, he said he knew where I could find it. I didn’t even realize he was married to your sister until he rode in here with you.”

  “That must have been a dreadful shock.”

  Aunt Alice tsk-tsked. “Best thing he could imagine, I’d say.”

  Ma, not to be outdone by her sister, added, “Certainly has proven to be the best thing for all of us.”

  Eve caught Cole’s gaze, giving him a chance to agree or deny Ma’s statement.

  He kept his silence. Partly because he wasn’t sure he could do either with total honesty.

  A smile flickered across her features. “As it turns out, Victoria is really Constance Hayworth. Her parents are alive and living in Chicago. Her father owns a big foundry.”

  Cole tried to sort through what she’d said and align it with what he knew of the situation. “But she’s here, married to Reese, and I’m sure both of you call her Victoria.”

  Ma and Aunt Alice looked as confused as he was.

  Eve laughed. “She went back to Chicago with them, but her memory never returned. She didn’t fit into their rich way of life and begged to return. To their credit, they paid heed to her desires. They knew she must be where she was happy.” Eve’s voice deepened as she finished her tale.

  Even though he hadn’t seen her in two years, Cole knew he wasn’t mistaken in thinking something about the words she spoke saddened her.

  Two years ago, he would have sought a chance to be alone and ask her for an explanation. But that time was passed.

  She served a thick, rich spice cake with a layer of whipped frosting.

  “It was a good meal,” Cole said, as he finished and pushed back from the table. “I have things to take care of in the barn.” About all he needed to do was water Sanchez and unpack his saddlebags, but he would drag out every chore until darkness, so he didn’t have to be around Eve. Remembering those earlier times had tangled his thoughts between sweetness and regret.

  He went to the well for water and pulled up wet sand. A walk to the river would help pass time. He took Sanchez down the hill.

  He sat on the grass as he let the horse drink his fill.

  The sound of someone approaching brought him to his feet.

  Eve. With two buckets.

  He wanted to bang his fist on his forehead. Of course, she would need water too. “Sorry. I didn’t think to ask if you needed anything.”

  “Not a problem. I’ve been doing this for two days.”

  “You mean the well isn’t filling anymore.”

  “Doesn’t seem to be.”

  He groaned. “I was hoping to put it off, but I’ll have to dig it deeper.” He mentally ran through what was required. “I’ll ride over and see if Reese can help.”

  “I can help.”

  “It requires emptying the buckets of sand when I fill them in the pit. It’s dirty, heavy work.”

  “I know. But I can do it.”

  He studied her. The Kinsley girls were accustomed to hard work but still… “Why would you want to?”

  She set the buckets down and faced him. “I’d like to know what went wrong between us. Maybe you care to explain why you left without a word of explanation.”

  “I think your answer when I asked you to marry me was all the explanation either of us needed.”

  “I was shocked by your proposal. Oh, not because you asked me to marry you.” Her face colored up as if lit by the setting sun. “But you asked me to leave everything I knew without anything to go to.”

  “I was foolish enough to think being together was enough.”

  “It might have been, but you didn’t give me a chance to decide that.”

  “You made your opinion clear. I didn’t see any reason to discuss it then nor do I now. That’s the past.”

  “I agree. As to why I’d like to help with the well, it’s because I feel I have to prove something to you.”

  “Me? What would you want to prove?”

  “You treated me like a quitter. I want to show I’m not.”


  He couldn’t say how long they stared at each other, he searching her gaze for understanding. She searching his for the same, he supposed. Finally he nodded.

  “It doesn’t change anything, but if it will make you feel better, fine. But if it’s too much, I will find someone else.”

  “Did you find someone else last time?”

  He blinked. “Last time?”

  “When you decided for me that going with you was too much.”

  He opened his mouth. Snapped it shut. “I didn’t decide anything you hadn’t already decided. And no, I didn’t find anyone, unless you count Bob Stanley, who sold me this place. In fact, I spent the last two years digging in the mud and water for gold. I didn’t have time for anything but work.”

  “But your hard work has paid off. You have what you wanted.” She dipped the buckets in the river and pulled them out full of water.

  “I’ll take those.” He thought for a moment she would refuse his help, but then she set them down and stepped back.

  “I’ll lead your horse.” She took the rope hanging from Sanchez’s halter and began the climb back to the house.

  He picked up the pails and followed.

  She was right. He had what he wanted.

  Then why did he feel so empty?

  Chapter 5

  Eve couldn’t say when she decided to confront Cole with what had happened two years ago. It just felt right when she’d encountered him at the river. There was a time when his expression would have been eager and welcoming, not guarded as she’d seen.

  Nothing about their discussion had changed anything, but at least her feelings were out in the open. And now she meant to prove what she was made of. That she could handle challenges.

  If he’d given her a chance, she might have proven it already.

  A question caught at her thoughts. Would she have gone with him if he’d given her the chance?

  Back then, she’d shuddered at the idea. But since that time, she’d learned that she couldn’t keep things from changing.

  They reached the house. He went inside, set the pails of water on the cupboard, returned outside, and took his horse’s reins.