Her fingers traced the rays of yellow, orange and red surrounded by the cool blues of an endless Texas sky.
“It’s stunning.” She faced him. “I’ve been trying to avoid it, but I think we need to stay honest, so I’m going to ask about the letter you were staring at when I rode up. You put it away. Is it from family?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the letter?”
“Nothing.”
“You didn’t even hear me you were staring at it so hard.” She moved to him again, placing her small hand over his heart, over the letter. “Please, no more secrets. I’d rather deal straight on with the truth.”
Slipping his hand under hers, he pulled out the letter. “It’s from my in-laws, Lilly’s parents. I wrote them after we got married.” His jaw popped a couple of times. “They had been asking me to return home. We grew up next to each other.”
“Is that why you wrote them?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to let them know I had married. To reassure them I had not forgotten my vows to Lilly. Even though I had to marry, I would be faithful to her memory.” He looked at the letter, not able to meet Sofia’s gaze.
“Then I’ll head home and let you read it in private.” She passed him going down the steps.
He caught her hand. “Do you want to see the house? There’s still a lot of work to do. But it’s close to being able to move in.”
“Are you moving in with me?”
“I don’t know. I don’t seem to know my own mind right now.”
The light in her eyes died. “I think there are too many people in this house for me to move in.” Her hand came up and caressed his jaw. Standing on her toes, she reached up and gently pressed her lips against his. A slight shift, and a cold empty space separated them.
Sofia’s smile was slight and sad. He never thought of a smile as being sad.
With a nod, she pointed to his letter. “Read what they have to say to you. Staring at an unopened envelope won’t help. I’ll be at my father’s when you’re ready.”
The confident stride that took her back to her horse reminded him of Tiago. She had found her place in the world, and now he was the loose end in her life.
God, what is Your plan for me? Will this guilt ever go away? Should it? Pastor Phillips said forgiveness was his as soon as he asked for it. And without it? His life would remain stagnant. Missing out on the fulfillment of God’s promise.
God would forgive him, but how did he forgive himself? Would Lilly’s parents ever forgive him? Holding one end of letter, he slit the other end open. He forced his breath out. Sucked it back in until his lungs and nostrils burned.
With great care he pulled out the folded sheets of paper. Three pages. They had filled three pages.
Dearest Jackson...
Chapter Twenty-Three
Two days and not a word from Jackson. Now that everyone knew that the secret was out and she had seen the house, they gave her hourly updates.
He was getting the house ready before he came for her. How long was she going to lie to herself? He knew where she was and that she was waiting for him.
The fanged butterflies had started a colony in her stomach when she thought of possible words and advice he might have read in the letter. The letter from Lilly’s parents. The fluttering rolled into a stampede.
Unable to sleep, she threw on a pair of pants and an old shirt that had belonged to her brother and made her way to the barn by the light of the moon. Clouds were passing over, and shadows stretched out the darkness.
Rena would be the last mare to foal this season. Thunder rolled far off into the distance, so they might miss it.
With the full moon and the change in weather, tonight was probably the night. Mares loved picking the worse time to foal. Walking through the barn, she looked in on the few that were boarded for the night, mares with babies by their side. There were no wranglers on watch, which was odd given they still had a mare in foal.
Who had been assigned to watch tonight?
This was Rena’s first foal. Entering the stall, Sofia talked in a low soft voice. The young mare tossed her head and flicked her tail as she turned in a circle. One direction, then another.
Stepping up against her, she ran her hand along the mare’s extended ribs. She focused on the mare and locked away all of the personal worries that had been clogging her thoughts.
The smell of fresh hay and the feel of the silky damp coat anchored her in the moment. The palomino mare snorted and dropped down to the ground. She rolled her body into a sitting position then moved back to her side stretching her neck and groaning.
She was definitely having contractions. Another gripped her large body. The soft nostrils flared with each heavy breath.
Looking at the straw on the floor, it looked as if she had been up and down several times. The mare tried to stand again, but struggled and fell back.
“Easy girl, we’ll figure out what’s wrong. I’m right here.” A muffled snort and gentle nicker seemed to Sofia as equine gratitude. Stroking the quivering muscles, she thought about the best plan of action. Her father and Estevan were in town.
She didn’t know where Jackson stayed at night, and even if she did, there was not enough time to get him.
And whoever was on duty had left his post. Not good. When she found out, they would no longer have a job with De Zavala.
The mare grunted again and pawed at the straw with her front hooves. The labor wasn’t moving along like it should. Even for a mare’s first foal, something was off. Sofia’s forehead wrinkled when she checked the mare. “How long have you been like this, girl?”
Horses went through the final stage of labor pretty fast, twenty minutes at the most. An hour would be an eternity for a laboring horse and dangerous. She glanced at the stall door.
At the moment she was alone. In years past, she had helped with foaling until her mother put a stop to it. Checking the mare, she took a deep breath.
This momma and baby needed her to think and act quickly. There was no time to go get help. She sighed, pushing the fear away.
So silly to feel helpless after all she’d been through. Hand on the mare’s tight belly, she soothed Rena as she moved in to check the position of the foal.
The mare kicked out. Sofia’s heart skipped a beat, aching for the animal.
“Sorry, Rena,” she whispered. After a few seconds of deep breaths, the mare’s ribs mirrored her action, calming them both. “I think we’re running out of time.” Talking to the horse was better than talking to herself.
Easing her hands toward the mare’s braided tail, Sofia checked the progress of the unborn foal. What she found confirmed her fears. She needed a knife.
She rushed into the tack room. There should be an emergency bag somewhere. She found the bag buried behind extra pieces of leather.
Returning to the mare’s stall, Sofia kept calm, not wanting to stress the mare any more than she was already.
The wind banged against the siding outside. The storm had arrived. One last deep inhale, and she started cutting through the red mass that blocked the foal from being born.
Rain started to tap on the roof. Any light from the moon was gone. The only light was her lantern.
The door slammed, and wind rushed into the building. Someone had entered the barn. The wrangler must have finally returned.
She bit back the ugly words she wanted to yell at him. Right now she needed to focus as she made the cut, waiting for success or failure. Pulling the mass free, the tip of a tiny black hoof appeared.
Sofia bit her lip and leaned forward, resisting the urge to pull on the small hoof. A tiny black muzzle followed. “Good girl, come on, one more push.”
“Sofia, what’s wrong?” Jackson kneeled next to her. A small shoulder slipped out, an
d suddenly a dark long-legged baby lay in the straw. The wet, dark coat was covered in a thin layer of white. Steam rose from its warm body as it met the cool air.
“The foal was blocked. I don’t know how long she was in labor.” She kept her focus on the foal, willing it to breathe.
Jackson gently placed his hand over the tiny rib cage. The biggest smile spread across his face. He nodded. “There’s a racing heartbeat.”
She had done it, helped deliver a breathing baby. She checked the mare. Rena was now sitting up. Arching her neck, she nudged at her foal.
Giving the mare a pat, Jackson stood and held out his hand to Sofia. “Come on, the mare looks alert. We can watch from the corridor so momma here can take care of her baby.”
Sofia watched as the little one shook its head and tried to stand. “It’s a filly. A little girl.” Why was she crying?
Taking his hand, she stood. Her legs gave out, and he caught her as she stumbled. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I had no feeling in my—”
“No need to apologize. You just single-handedly saved a foal and mare. Where’s Diego? He had mare watch tonight.”
He held her against him maybe a little longer than needed. The warmth in his hands supported her, comforted her.
“No one was in the barn or even close by.” Taking a breath, she straightened. A little separation was wise, not what her heart wanted but what her head needed. “Thank you.”
His arms tightened before completely releasing her. His rumbling chuckle filled the quiet stall. “What are you thanking me for? You did all the work.”
A loud grunt from the stall brought their attention back to the mare. With her front legs extended, she heaved her body up, followed by her back legs, breaking the connection from her young one. Standing on all fours, she shook off the straw and turned to her foal. With a soft nicker she licked his face. Mimicking his dam, his long front legs pulled him up in an effort to stand. His back legs pushed but wobbled, and he collapsed back down. Spindle legs spread as the filly shook her head.
The desire to help the foal stand had Sofia moving to the baby. Jackson caught her arm. “We should give them a little bit of time before we interfere. If she can get up and feed on her own, it’ll make her stronger.”
She nodded and followed him out.
They stood next to each other on the other side of the half door as they silently watched the foal struggle to stand. After a few attempts she made it, and went to her mother for her first meal.
“Look, she’s got it.” Jackson’s hushed voice was full of awe. His gaze stayed on the mother and baby.
She studied his profile. Her stomach rolled. Would she ever have her own child with green eyes? Her arms ached to hold a baby, but it wasn’t fair to put that burden on him if he didn’t want any more children. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a whole family, babies that were just learning about life.
“Jackson—”
“Sofia—”
They spoke at the same time. He looked at her, then turned away. She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. What did you want to say?”
He pulled a splinter from the corner of the worn half door. She loved his hands, capable of so much strength but gentle enough to handle a newborn.
She bit her lip. She needed to stop her thoughts from going in the direction of babies. She wanted to soothe his hurts, but they were beyond her abilities. That had to be between God and him.
Wrapping her arms around her middle, she turned her attention back to the scene in the stall. If she stayed married to Jackson, this might be the closest she ever got to motherhood. Could she be happy with this?
Closing her eyes, she prayed in the silence. A peace washed through her, taking the fear and sadness. God had this.
The mare licked at the wobbly foal. After getting the first meal down, she started getting curious about her new world.
Walking over to them, she raised her soft muzzle, trying to reach Sofia. “I think she wants to tell you hi. Maybe she thinks you’re her family.”
The soft nose nudged her hand. Giggling, she rubbed the filly behind the ears. Jackson ran his hand along her back. “She is going to be a beauty. Good thing you were here. I might have been too late.”
He left her and went to the tack room. In short order he was back with supplies to clean out the stall.
Opening the door, he greeted the mare. She sniffed at him and the tools he carried, then nickered to her baby. Sofia stepped in and gently kept the filly out of Jackson’s way as he cleared all the evidence of the difficult birth.
“Why were you here at this hour?”
A shrug warned her that he was hiding something important. He shrugged when he didn’t want her to ask questions.
Should she honor his wish or push him? At this point, she deserved some sort of answer, but she didn’t want to upset him if he wasn’t ready.
He eased out of the stall, and the tiny horse on her new legs tried to follow him. Sofia gently held her. “Rena, we might have a go-getter on our hands.”
Jackson came back empty-handed. “She’s going to be smart. We’ll have to stay one step ahead of her.”
Together they checked her legs and eyes. “Thank you for being here. When you walked in, I knew it was going to be okay.” She smiled to reassure him. His eyes were heavy with sadness, but he gave her a smile, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
He went back to checking the newest addition to the ranch, his head down. “I couldn’t sleep. I was working on the house when I heard the storm in the distance. Mares like foaling in the worst weather, so I thought I’d ride over and check on her.”
He took off his hat and pushed his hair back. “I couldn’t get you off my mind, either.”
Dread rolled over her heart. This was it. They were over, not that there was ever a “them.” How could it hurt so much to lose something she never truly possessed?
“I read the letter.” He stroked the foal’s neck, and the little ears flicked back and forth. “Several times. And I have done a lot of praying. More than I have in all of my life up till now.”
He cleared his throat. “There was so much guilt. I love you but... I hated myself for loving you.”
Her heart stopped.
He looked up, right into her eyes. “I’ve been fighting this since the beginning of the cattle drive, but I was hanging on to Lilly and our babies. Not from love but from guilt. The night of the stampede, when I thought I lost you, I knew it was more, but couldn’t deal with it.”
“Jackson.” Her heart burned, heat searing her throat. “I don’t—”
He cupped her face, his callused thumb wiping at a tear she didn’t even realize had fallen. “Shhh. It’s going to be all right.”
The foal moved to her mother, looking for another meal. “Come outside with me. Remember the first time we met? It was right here.” Dughall was standing in the large reinforced stall. He stuck his head over the half door. “Want to go for a midnight ride? We’ll go slow.” He looked out the doors. “The storm was loud, but it’s gone.”
She laughed as she rubbed the stallion’s soft muzzle. “I told you I would ride him one day.” He still had the saddle on from when Jackson had ridden him to the barn.
“You did. You didn’t wait for me.”
She looked back over her shoulder and gave him her best shrug. “We were married, so he was mine. Maybe that’s why I agreed to marry you. I like winning.” She didn’t know what he wanted to say, but if this was the last night of their marriage, she wanted to make the most of it, of being with him.
He opened the door and pulled the leather reins from the hook. “So you want to ride with me?”
He swung up into the saddle and held his hand out to her. Taking it, she let him pull her up.
“You know I saw him before I saw you, and
I have to confess it was love at first sight. He stole my heart.”
“Yeah, he does that.” They stepped out into the night. They carefully plodded along the path that had been beaten down with all the activity around the house he was building.
They rode in silence. She laid her cheek against his broad back. The beating of his heart seemed to follow the rhythm of Dughall’s steps.
“Want to see the house?” The sky had already cleared, and the large moon lit their way. “I have several lamps there.”
She nodded, enjoying being so close to him.
They came to a stop in front of a simple two stalled shelter behind the house. He held out his arm for her to dismount, and he followed. This time he took the saddle off the stallion and turned him loose in the paddock.
His hand slipped down and took hers, their fingers entwined.
“I’m not always good with words, and I’ve been working on what to say to make it right.”
She swallowed as they made their way to the back porch. Her heart raced, and a part of her wanted to tell him not to say anything. She wanted to enjoy this night and not worry about tomorrow.
He got a lantern off the post. “Mary, Lilly’s mother, wrote a long letter.” On the porch he had a bench. It was crude, really two cedar stumps with a wide board sitting on top of them. It offered a place to rest, a place to sit and talk with Jackson.
“She opened the letter with, ‘It is well!’ I expected her to rebuke me for marrying again. So that confused me, until she told me about the Shulamite woman in 2 Kings. She had lost her family, but she put her faith that God was good and all was well. No matter how bad life got, as long as she was with God all was well.”
Shivering, she wasn’t sure it was the air, but the feeling of her prayers from earlier being answered.
He took her hand. “Are you cold?”
Even though she didn’t respond, he stood and took off his long duster. He wrapped it around her, and she inhaled, surrounded by his scent.
She looked up at him. “That’s an incredible faith.”
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