Just as Leah reached the mare, Miriam appeared in the cabin doorway. “You two about done playin’ with the livestock? Dinner’s ready, and if you come now, it won’t be burned.”
Did Leah’s nose wrinkle before the mare shifted to block his view?
Chapter Fifteen
Leah squinted at the tiny hole of the needle in her hand. The mid-afternoon sunlight streaming through the open doorway glinted off the little metal cylinder, making it a challenge to poke the black thread through the miniature opening.
Miriam hummed “Holy, Holy, Holy” in the rocking chair beside Leah’s bed, still stationed in the main room of the cabin. Her fingers flew as she crocheted a sock out of uncolored yarn.
“That hymn has always been one of my favorites,” Leah confided. She’d finally gotten the needle threaded and created a series of knots to bind the loose ends of the thread together.
Miriam nodded agreement, but kept humming as she reached the chorus.
Emotion from the melody filled Leah’s chest, and she lowered her voice to a secretive tone. “I once heard an opera soloist perform that song in my church in Richmond. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. That day, I decided that’s the song I want sung over my grave when I die.”
Miriam’s humming ceased, as did her crochet hook, and her sea green eyes grew round as half dollars. “Leah, what a morbid thought.”
A blush warmed her cheeks. “It’s just such a beautiful hymn. And what better testimony after my life ends than to give praise to the One who put me here to begin with?”
Miriam’s hands began to move again. “I suppose so. But I try not to think about death—mine or anyone else’s.”
Leah’s heart went out to the dear girl. She really had been through more death than anyone her age should. It was amazing she could remain so positive and upbeat, always smiling or chattering away.
Her brother, on the other hand, was Miriam’s polar opposite. Never a word unless it was absolutely necessary. And had she seen him smile yet? She couldn’t help but wonder what the other brother had been like. Was he quiet and sober like Gideon? Dare she ask?
“Miriam?” Leah kept her face focused on the tear she mended in Miriam’s jacket.
“Mmhmm.”
“Would you mind telling me what Abel was like? Was he as solemn as Gideon is?”
Miriam looked up, a faraway look in her eyes and the hint of a smile touching her lips. “Abel wasn’t solemn, not in the least. He loved to laugh and joke. He had Mama’s red hair, so of course he could get riled if wanted. But he loved people.”
She blinked and focused her dark green eyes on Leah. “Of course, Gideon wasn’t always such a stick-in-the-mud either. He didn’t joke around much like Abel, but he always had dreams and wanted to do big things. Once you got him talking about his ideas, you couldn’t get him to stop.” Her face held the rueful look only a sister could master.
“What kind of dreams?”
Miriam shrugged. “He carried on Pa’s dream for the ranch, especially the horses. He’s always wanted to breed the best horses in Montana. He’s really excited about that colt he brought up a few days ago.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You should ask him about the rest.”
Hmm… Maybe she would.
“You said Gideon had a wife once. What happened to her?”
Miriam took so long before speaking, Leah began to think she hadn’t heard. Finally, she answered, her attention never leaving the yarn and needle in her hands.
“Jane was a nice girl. Real pretty. Gideon met her down in Butte City when he’d gone for supplies. Her pa was a miner there, back when the mines were big business. I never could decide if he loved her or just felt sorry for her.
“Anyway, he brought her home and she settled in. Mama and Pa were already gone by then, and I was excited to have another woman around the house. She hated it here, though. I think mountain life scared her. Not that it was much tamer in town, but she hated the wild animals and the hard work and cooking without many store-bought provisions.” Miriam stopped speaking, her eyes taking on that faraway look again. This time, though, the smile wasn’t there.
“Did she run away?”
Miriam shook her head and released a sigh, dropping her eyes back to the half-finished heel in her hands.
“No, she was bit by a rattlesnake. She’d ridden out to take lunch to the boys, and I guess it spooked her horse. She made it back to the house on foot, but by then the poison was in her blood. She died that same day.”
Leah’s throat tightened. How awful.
“Gideon always blamed himself—for bringin’ her up here in the first place, and then for not bein’ there when she needed him.”
“But it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known a snake would bite her.” What was this crazy need to defend the man?
Miriam shook her head. “I know that. We all tried to tell him, but he never would listen. That’s about the time he stopped talkin’ so much.”
Leah wanted to cry. What a sad, sad story. In that moment, she wanted to make things better for this strong man who carried so much unnecessary burden. She wanted to show him the truth, help him shoulder some of his load. But why? She couldn’t explain her desire, but it was so real her chest ached. Maybe she could start by helping him dream again…
~
Leah perched on the edge of the bed, watching Miriam scurry around the kitchen putting away dishes. She’d been up for breakfast, but her leg still ached enough it was hard to spend too much time on the crutches. Her body tired quickly these days.
“So what’s on your to-do list for today?”
Miriam didn’t stop to look at Leah, but kept flitting from table to counter to shelf as she answered. “I need to go out and do some weeding in the garden. The grass is almost as tall as my green bean plants. It’ll take over soon if I let it.”
Outside. A bit of sunshine was exactly what she needed to get her strength back.
“If you’ll help me change dresses, I’ll work in the garden with you.”
Miriam shot a skeptical look over her shoulder as she lifted the stack of tin plates onto the shelf. “I don’t know if you’re ready for that yet.”
“Please? I can sit between the rows and scoot along as I pull weeds.” Leah tried to add a touch of sweetness to the pleading in her voice.
Miriam released a short laugh. “Leah Townsend, a member of Richmond’s elite, is begging me to let her crawl through the dirt in my little garden? Your friends would never believe it.”
Leah wanted to stick her tongue out at the girl, but settled for wrinkling her nose. “They’ll never know if you don’t tell them.”
Miriam laughed again as she wiped her hands on her apron and moved toward Leah’s bedroom. “Which dress do you want me to get?”
“The grey homespun. It should be in the bottom of the smaller trunk. And thank you.”
Miriam rolled her eyes as she walked from the room.
Two hours later, Leah was amazed at how much work a garden was. Not that she’d complain, though. The sun was glorious on her back and she’d never known how much fun it was to crumble dirt in her hands. If only Emily could see her now. She’d either sit down and cry, or hug her sides from laughter.
Leah braced her hands in the dirt behind her, and scooted back to reveal another section of grass to pull. Her splinted leg drug in the dirt, and Leah frowned at the brown streaks on the bandages. After this little escapade, the cloth would need to be changed for sure.
She blew out a breath, hoping to clear her face of the wispy brown tendrils that had escaped her bun. They fell right back in her eyes, so she raised an arm to wipe them away.
Before reaching for another hunk of grass, she stopped to survey the four long rows of green beans, peppers, and lettuce they’d weeded. Each row was about fifty feet long, so they’d made good progress this morning. Of course, Miriam had done three to Leah’s one, but it felt good to be doing something productive.
She’d better ge
t moving again to finish this row. Miriam had already gone inside to put lunch on the table, so Leah would need to hobble in soon. She reached for a clump of grass, but a motion at the top of her vision caught her attention.
From that moment, it all happened so fast. The snake slithering toward her, its head raised not a foot from her leg. A scream. A mighty blast that was loud enough to be from a cannon. Pieces of the snake flying in all directions.
~
Gideon’s heart pumped like the hooves of a stampeding herd as he let his gun slide to the ground. His hands balled into fists to keep from shaking as he charged toward the woman on the ground. He was pretty sure he’d gotten there before the snake struck, but his mind kept throwing images at him—Jane lying on the bed, the dress torn off at her shoulder to reveal the arm swollen three sizes too big. He saw it all again in vivid detail. Black skin seeping up to her shoulder. The look of sheer agony as tears freefell down her cheeks.
He reached the woman on the ground, and it took a moment for his mind to register what he saw. This wasn’t Jane. It was Leah. Her face didn’t wear the crazed fear and pain Jane’s had. He crouched for a better look and drank in the trust in her eyes. No fear, just strength there. He wanted to cry.
“Are you hurt?” He heard the huskiness in his voice, but had no control to change it.
“I’m fine. Except…”
His chest picked up speed again. She had been hurt.
“Except what? Did it bite you?”
Her lips tipped up then. She was smiling?
“No, no. I’m fine, except…you’re cutting off the circulation in my arm.”
Gideon looked down at his hands. By golly, he was clutching her arm like it would save his life. He loosened his grip and rose to his feet.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
He was about to step away from the beautiful creature that had just cut ten years off his life, but a glance at his feet showed he was dangerously close to squashing a green bean plant. That would never do.
Anyway, he needed to get Leah out of the garden and back in the cabin where she’d be safe.
“C’mon. Let’s get you inside.” He bent down again to help Leah stand, but a look around revealed her crutches at the other end of the row.
“If you would be so kind as to bring my crutches, I can take it from there.”
But when he looked into Leah’s face, he saw the pain lines around her eyes and the weary expression that clouded them. It looked like she’d more than overdone it for the day.
“It’ll be easier if I carry you in.”
“But Mr. Bryant –“
The moment he scooped her up, her protest ceased. Once again, he was amazed at how well her petite frame fit in his arms. He carried her the thirty yards or so to the front of the cabin, and felt her head rest against his shoulder. A wave of warmth flowed through his chest, a balm to the dull ache he’d carried so long.
Miriam met them on the porch, a hand shading her worried eyes from the sun.
“Is she all right? What happened?”
“I’m fine.” Leah’s voice was patient, motherly. “There was a snake in the garden, but Gideon shot it before anything happened.”
Gideon slipped sideways through the doorway so he didn’t bump Leah. When he reached the bed, he eased her down onto it. His arms and chest immediately felt the loss.
The expression Leah turned on him though, brought the heat back into his body. Her pale green eyes shimmered and a soft smile played with her lips.
“Thank you, Gideon, for rescuing me again.”
He knew he needed to say something, but with her looking at him that way, his brain just wouldn’t work. He finally forced out “You’re welcome” before turning away. He had to get out of here and regain control.
“Need to get my gun,” he mumbled as he escaped out the door. It wasn’t until he was walking toward the garden that he realized Leah had used his Christian name. Did she know she’d done it?
Chapter Sixteen
Leah sent Miriam a thankful smile as the young woman approached the bed with a pot of water and a rag.
“Thank you, Miri. I’m afraid my hands are in need of a bit of fresh water.” She glanced down at her dirt-streaked dress and bandages. “I probably need to get the rest of me cleaned up, too.”
Miriam flashed a sly smile, “You might also want to work on your face.” She set the pot on the bed linen. “Hold on a minute, and I’ll get you a mirror.”
One look in said mirror brought a gasp to Leah’s lips. “Oh, Miriam. Why didn’t you tell me?” Dirt streaks lined both sides of her face, across her forehead, and under her left eye. She looked like the pictures she’d seen of Indians on the advertisements for a Wild West show that had come through Richmond last year.
And her hair looked like she’d ridden through a windstorm. Stray wisps stuck out around her face in every direction. Her bun sagged several inches lower than she’d pinned it that morning.
Leah looked away from the mirror to see Miriam watching her with crossed arms, amusement sparkling in her teal eyes.
“Well don’t just stand there, help me.” Leah dipped a corner of the rag in the water and rubbed it across her forehead. Gideon would be back in the cabin any minute, and she didn’t want to be in the middle of her toilette when he entered.
Miriam rolled her eyes dramatically as she moved around to work on Leah’s hair, landing a playful swat on her shoulder in the process. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you all prettied up again before Gideon gets back.”
Leah didn’t have time to correct her, but it was a good thing the dirt covered the pink that rose to her cheeks.
By the time Gideon came back in, Leah had washed and straightened her hair. She may not qualify as pretty, but at least she was cleaner.
From the bed, Leah bit into her cold ham sandwich. Across the room, Miriam and Gideon ate their lunch at the table in silence. She longed to sit with them, but after the morning’s events, her leg throbbed. It felt good to lean back against the wall of pillows.
She found herself sneaking glances at Gideon throughout the meal, often catching him watching her, as well. His expression could best be described as brooding. Creases formed on his forehead, and his brows came so low she couldn’t see the deep green color that always captivated her.
As soon as his plate was empty, Gideon rose and whistled for Drifter, then stalked out of the cabin.
Leah heard a heavy sigh and turned her attention to Miriam, who rose to follow him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
What was wrong now? Was Gideon mad at her for being out in the garden today? Or just worried? His wife had died of a snake bite. It made sense that any interaction or even a sighting of a snake would shake him up.
Finally, the click of Miriam’s heels sounded on the porch. She appeared, carrying Leah’s crutches, but the usual perky smile was missing from her pinched lips.
“Miriam, what’s wrong with Gideon? Is he angry with me?”
Miriam’s face took on a touch of bewilderment. “No, he’s not mad at you.” She shook her head and picked up Leah’s tray from the side of the bed. “Don’t worry about him. He just needs to work out a few things.” Her lips pursed in amusement. “I think it threw him for a loop when he realized it was a harmless old garter snake.”
“You mean the snake wasn’t poisonous?”
“Nope.” Miriam began stacking dirty dishes from the table.
Leah sank back against the pillows, all the energy sucked out of her. It wasn’t poisonous. She felt a grin spill onto her lips. Poor Gideon.
~
It was happening all over again.
Heave. Thwak! Two chunks of wood sailed off the stump, landing in the piles that had already gathered.
Gideon had told himself he would never bring another woman to this place again. Ever. With another log on the stump, he heaved the ax back over his right shoulder. Thwak!
He’d told Abel not to do it. Women were trouble, every last one of
them. And Easterners were the worst. Had Abel listened? No. And now look what had happened.
Heave. Thwak! His muscles griped, but Gideon pushed harder.
Heave. Thwak! Too hard this time. The ax lodged itself deep in the stump.
He stopped to wipe his face with his sleeve. With that woman around, he couldn’t even strip off his shirt anymore.
While his muscles rested, his brain wouldn’t stop. The image was seared in his mind from earlier that day. Leah, sitting between the green bean plants, her splinted leg extended, hair mussed in the cutest way.
And then, in an instant, that cute little expression turned to fear. He’d followed her line of sight to the snake and his heartbeat froze. His body reacted automatically. Before he knew what he was doing, he sighted the Winchester and squeezed. It wasn’t until the striking snake dissolved into pieces, that he’d relaxed.
Why was death following him? How many people did he have to lose before it was enough? Ever since they’d moved to this wild territory in ’63, people he’d loved had been picked off like a sniper’s target.
But he didn’t fault the land. No, the land never promised to be gentle or make things easy. It was hard and completely untamable, but gave you the feeling you’d really accomplished something. You were proud to have the chance to live another day in this fierce country of unimaginable beauty. No, the land never promised to take care of them. It was God who had made that promise…and failed.
~
The scissors sliced deliciously through the lavender fabric. Even though they were rusty and snagged often, these shears could get the job done. Leah didn’t normally consider herself to be the destructive type, but watching the ruffles fall away gave her a little thrill.
A gasp from the doorway brought her attention up.
“You’re cutting your dress?” Miriam rushed forward to pick up the long strip of lavender frill that had dropped to the wood floor. She raised mournful eyes to Leah’s. “Why?” Leah would have thought she’d just kicked Miriam’s puppy.
Mountain Dreams Series: Books 1 - 3: Mountain Dreams Box Set 1 Page 11