by Carol Cox
He had always been around when she needed him, always helpful, always polite. But a man in love? He had never once let her know of his feelings, never showed any undue familiarity. He’d never even made an attempt to kiss her. Like Tom did, her memory whispered.
Yes, it always came back to Tom, she thought wearily. Everything she had experienced with him was what she had always thought went along with falling in love—the special way she felt when he looked at her with his sparking eyes, her willingness to alter her own goals in deference to his. If that wasn’t love—and it obviously wasn’t—what was? She had good examples in her parents, also in Jeff and Judith. Their relationships contained strong feelings, she knew, but also were firmly grounded in the commitment to put the other’s welfare first.
Like Adam? her relentless inner voice goaded. Yes, like Adam. Lizzie took another look at the years she had known him, approaching it from a different viewpoint. Looking at it from this new perspective, she realized that Adam hadn’t found it necessary to pursue her physically in order to show his love. He had shown her in a hundred other ways.
When had the change come? Was there a moment when simple courtesy had become a lover’s tenderness, or had it grown up gradually, rooted deep like an oak? However it had happened, it was a fact she could no longer deny. The words Tom addressed to her had been intended to deceive. Adam had poured out his heart directly to God, and she had no doubt of his sincerity. The question now was how she felt about him.
Lizzie thought about the way she reacted when Adam was near, the way a lightning bolt seemed to shoot right through her. It was similar to how she had felt with Tom, but it was different, too. This was not so much sheer excitement as it was the feeling that they were being drawn together, two halves that needed one another to make a complete whole.
She remembered the Bible stories of her childhood about creation, when God had said, “It is not good that the man should be alone.” Did that imply that it wasn’t good for a woman to be alone, either? Did that explain the aching emptiness she felt when Adam was no longer around? Was it possible—even desirable—that she could serve God wholeheartedly and allow Adam a place in her life, too?
Lizzie wrestled with these questions all the way home, and long after she had gone to bed, but not to sleep.
twenty
Two days later, Lizzie had found some answers but was struggling with a new set of questions. There was no question about Adam and the caliber of man he was; everything about him was upright and true. Just as she had looked for the responses she wanted from God, regardless of what He wanted from Lizzie, she had been looking for the wrong things as proof of love.
And she could no longer delude herself into believing that a life of service to God meant that He wanted her to live it alone. One honest look at her parents’ godly example was enough to convince her of that. Lizzie shook her head slowly. How blind could a person be?
Now that she saw things clearly, she was plagued by the fear that in her fumbling attempts to do the right thing and protect them both, she had pushed Adam away so far that she had ruined her chance for happiness.
Even the memory of Adam’s prayer didn’t soothe her. She had heard him put the situation in God’s hands. Did that mean he wouldn’t come around again until God somehow took an active role to work things out between them? Now that she understood her feelings for Adam, Lizzie didn’t think she had the patience or the courage to wait and wonder indefinitely.
But what could she do? She might be in love, but she was still so unsure of herself that she couldn’t take the initiative and make the first move. It looked like an unsolvable dilemma.
Lizzie glanced outside for the hundredth time that morning. The clouds were still there, gray and threatening, promising to let loose at any moment. Apparently the rains had decided to come early today, and there would be no chance for a ride until they had gone. And just when she needed to be outdoors, to be alone and think!
Feeling that if she didn’t expend some energy she’d explode, Lizzie went out to the porch and paced from one end to the other until she was surprised she hadn’t worn a groove in the wooden planks. A few light drops fell to the ground, the forerunners of more to follow. Lizzie wanted to scream in frustration. If ever she needed to work off some steam, it was now, and she seemed to be blocked at every turn.
Maybe there was something she could do in the barn. If nothing else, the presence of the horses and the soothing smells of straw, hay, and leather would provide a balm for her troubled spirit. She dashed off through the rain drops, which were already increasing in force and number by the time she reached the barn.
❧
Adam muttered to himself as he watched the sky and wondered if he should turn back. He’d picked a fine time to decide to apologize to Charles for taking off without warning. But then, he couldn’t say any of his actions lately had been especially wise.
Look at the way he’d raced up to Lizzie and babbled about his feelings without any preparation, catching her completely off guard. No wonder she sent him packing! He must have looked like a wild-eyed maniac, descending upon her like that.
But running off like that. . . He’d told himself at first he was doing it for Lizzie, taking his unwanted presence away from her. In all honesty, though, he had to confess it was the blow to his ego that had done it. Initially, at least. Staying away had been nothing short of cowardice. He was afraid to meet Lizzie again, and that’s all there was to it. Strong, self-reliant Adam McKenzie was afraid to face willowy Lizzie Bradley. He had faced her rejection once; he didn’t think he could take it if she rebuffed him again.
It was time he faced up to that fear. If he was going to consider himself any kind of man, he had to go back. He still had responsibilities there, after all, even if he hadn’t been acting like it lately. And, he admitted to himself with a rueful laugh, it would be good to sleep in a real bed again, even if it was just a bunkhouse cot.
The proud owner of his own refurbished home, Adam had been sleeping on a pile of hay in his barn ever since running home with his tail tucked between his legs. After all the work he’d done on the house with Lizzie in mind, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to take up residence there without her. What am I going to do if she never comes around to my way of thinking? I can just see myself, twenty years down the road, with a fine house on the best horse ranch in New Mexico, spreading my bedroll out on the hay every night!
Tiny drops of rain beaded on his saddle, and a larger one splattered across the bridge of his nose. I should have known better than to come out when it looked like this. He checked his location; he was about halfway between the two ranches, but slightly nearer the Double B. That decided his course, and he urged his horse into a lope as the rain pelted down in earnest.
❧
Lizzie glared sullenly at the sheets of rain pouring down from the heavens. Coming to the barn had seemed a good idea at first. She had spent time fussing over Dancer, and had polished her tack until the leather gleamed. Seeing that the rain hadn’t diminished, she straightened the rest of the tack, rearranged the tools, and organized the feed bags into neat rows. The activity had helped use up nervous energy, but the rain was still coming down in torrents and showed no sign of abating.
She supposed she might throw a saddle blanket over her head and dash for the house, but she knew she’d be soaked to the skin by the time she got there. It looked like she was stuck where she was until the downpour slackened; she might as well find something else to do. She glanced around the barn and sighed. She’d been altogether too efficient. There wasn’t a thing that needed fixing, unless she scattered tools, tack, and feed around and started in all over again.
Wait. Her gaze traveled upward to the loft. She hadn’t been up there in some time, but being out of the line of sight, things were usually left in disorder up there much longer than down below where they were noticed. Lizzie nodded, relieved. She would climb up and get started right away.
Halfway up the la
dder, Lizzie remembered why she hadn’t climbed up there for so long. Her long skirt wanted to catch under her toe every time she raised her foot to climb another rung. She grasped the irritating garment with one hand, wrenching it loose and nearly throwing herself off balance in the process. The ladder teetered slightly and Lizzie closed her eyes, waiting for it to stop before she went on. The agile cowboys had no problem here, but then, they didn’t have yards of fabric wrapped around their ankles, either. It wasn’t fair, she thought angrily.
The ladder ceased its swaying and Lizzie climbed another step.
❧
Adam could barely see ten yards in front of him. The last time the rain had come lashing down this hard was. . .well, he didn’t remember a time he’d ever seen it rain like this. And here he was, caught out in the open.
His horse slowed and Adam could make out dark shapes looming behind the sheets of water. He breathed a sigh of relief. They’d made it to the barn! He could hardly wait to get inside. Even if it took a while for the rain to let up and he was stuck in the barn, he’d be under shelter, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
❧
“Oh, isn’t this just grand!” Lizzie groused. Now nearly at the top of the ladder, she had maneuvered her skirt out of the way long enough to put her left foot on the next rung, but as soon as she lifted the right foot, she knew she was in trouble. Somehow the fabric was wrapped tight about her right leg, holding her foot halfway between one rung and the next.
Holding tight with both hands, she looked down and sighed with exasperation when she saw the problem. The hem of her skirt had caught on a nail and was now stretched so tightly by her right leg that it wouldn’t pull loose. Furthermore, it had somehow managed to wrap around her leg and held it immobile. Now what? She couldn’t stay up there indefinitely. Already her legs were beginning to ache. She reached down tentatively with her right hand, but the ladder started swaying so violently that she stopped, afraid to move again.
Lizzie surveyed the barn floor, trying to pick the best place to land if she fell, which now seemed all too likely. Unable to free herself from the constraining cloth to move either up or down, she would hang there like a fly caught in a spider’s web until she could hold on no longer. Then she would drop like a stone.
If only someone would come! Even as the thought raced through her mind, Lizzie realized how unlikely that was. Who in his right mind would be out in this deluge? Twelve feet didn’t seem all that high when one was standing on solid ground looking up. Looking down from that height, though, gave it a totally different perspective. How high had Willie been when he fell out of that cottonwood tree and broke his arm? Only ten feet or so, wasn’t it? And he’d had a thick bush below to break his fall.
Her left hand, the one with the better hold, slipped a fraction.
Over the ceaseless beat of the driving rain, Lizzie heard a steady splash, splash, splash and recognized the sound of a horse’s hooves plodding through mud. Bert, she knew, had been out before the storm had hit. For some reason he had apparently come back home instead of holing up somewhere for the duration. It was foolish on his part, but Lizzie blessed him for it. If only he got to her before she lost her hold completely. She needed to get his attention; he’d never think to look up here when he walked in.
Twisting as far as she dared, she focused her eyes on the open door and called out as loudly as she could. “Bert! Hurry! I’m caught on the ladder and I’m about to fall!” She caught sight of a shirtsleeve as she turned back around.
The maneuver proved too unsettling for the ladder, which shifted abruptly to the right, loosening Lizzie’s hold still more. Splinters dug into her hand as she made a desperate effort to regain her grip, but she was too far off balance now.
With a piercing scream, she plunged off the ladder, hearing the sound of ripping fabric as the hem of her skirt tore loose from the nail. She saw the knotholes in the wall flash by as she dropped downward—straight into a pair of muscular arms. Lizzie squeezed her eyes tight at the moment of impact, aware only that by some miracle she was alive and unharmed. Then she opened them to look up at her rescuer, and stared right into the face of Adam McKenzie.
twenty-one
The impact of Lizzie’s landing drove Adam backward, slamming him against the wall. He stood unmoving, staring back at Lizzie in astonishment. Lizzie suddenly became aware that Adam still held her, and moved to pull away. Adam loosened his hold a trifle, but kept her within the circle of his arms. Unable to continue looking into his eyes, Lizzie stared straight ahead, where she could see the pulse pounding in the hollow of Adam’s throat, keeping pace with her own wild heartbeat.
“Are you all right?” he asked in a voice hoarse with worry. “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” Lizzie replied, feeling anything but. “My skirt—it got caught on a nail, and I couldn’t move.”
Adam nodded as though it made perfect sense, then frowned in puzzlement. “What were you doing up there, anyway?”
Trying to keep myself busy so I wouldn’t go crazy thinking about you, Lizzie thought. Aloud, she responded with a question of her own. “How do you always manage to be around when I need to be rescued?”
She saw the corners of his full lips tilt up ever so slightly in the beginnings of a smile. “Just lucky, I guess.” Her scalp felt prickly when Adam slowly raised one hand and tenderly brushed a wisp of hair back from her forehead. Lizzie’s gaze flickered up to his eyes again, where she saw her own sense of wonder reflected in their depths.
Adam’s hand moved to her shoulder, slid down her arm, and clasped her fingers in his own. The tingle she always felt when he was near now seemed like a living thing shooting back and forth between them. He moistened his lips. “Lizzie, I acted like an insensitive clod the other day. Can you forgive me?”
Lizzie nodded, never taking her eyes off him. His smile grew a fraction wider. “Would it be all right if I tried to start over?” he asked softly.
She nodded again. This time she was ready to listen to every word he had to say. His grip on her hand tightened, and he swallowed nervously.
“Lizzie, I have loved you for years. I’ve never told you before this because I didn’t have a thing to offer you. But now, God has blessed me with a place of my own, a place where I can do what I know best—raise and train the finest horses around. It’ll take a while to get it into full operation, but I know I can make a go of it, and Lord willing, in a few years it’ll be known throughout the territory.
“The only thing that’s missing,” he added bluntly, “is you. I can’t guarantee what the future will bring, but I can promise you this—I will love you, protect you, and do my best to see that you’re happy and cared for as long as there is breath in my body.”
Without loosening his grasp on Lizzie’s hand, Adam knelt in front of her. “Lizzie, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Tears welled up in Lizzie’s eyes, but for the first time in a long time, they were happy ones. Joy and a sense of peace like she had never experienced rose up inside her, filling every part of her being. Only one thing remained to be settled before she could give Adam the response he wanted.
She raised a trembling hand and rested it lightly on Adam’s shoulder. “Before I answer, I need to know something. Can you forgive me for the way I behaved over Tom?”
Adam’s brow creased at the mention of the name and Lizzie plunged ahead before she lost her nerve. “I let him kiss me, Adam. Nothing more, but I did do that. I’m not proud of it—in fact I’m horribly ashamed—but I can’t agree to marry you without knowing that you know, and that you forgive me.”
Adam slowly stood and laid one hand along the contour of Lizzie’s cheek. “That belongs to the past now,” he said, “and we’ll keep it there. It’s not only forgiven, it’s forgotten.” He released her fingers and cupped her face with both hands, tracing her cheekbones with his thumbs and staring at her as though he’d discovered a priceless treasure.
Lizzie had t
hought she’d known joy a few moments before, but it was nothing compared to what she felt when Adam lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, gathering her to himself in a warm embrace. When he raised his head, he looked at her with satisfaction and declared, “There. That marks the end of that chapter of our lives, and the beginning of a new one.”
Lizzie nodded her agreement, too happy to speak. Adam’s lips parted in a wide grin. “I take it that means you accept my proposal?” he asked her teasingly.
“Yes. Oh, yes!” Lizzie cried, hugging him tight.
Adam responded by wrapping his arms around her and whirling exuberantly around the barn. He didn’t stop until he was dizzy, and they dropped onto a bale of hay, laughing giddily. “Do you think your parents will object?” he asked, his tone serious once more.
Lizzie smiled and entwined her fingers in his. “God has brought us this far,” she said simply. “He’ll see us through the rest of the way.”
“In that case,” Adam said contentedly, sliding an arm around her shoulders, “why don’t we sit right here and make some plans?” He nodded at the undiminished rain. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be going anywhere soon.”
twenty-two
Lizzie Bradley, soon to be Lizzie McKenzie, looked out her window upon a glorious fall day. The sky, a flawless expanse of crystal blue, formed the perfect backdrop for the golden hills. Behind her, she heard a steady thumping sound and turned to see Judith removing Rose from Lizzie’s bed.
“That’s enough bouncing,” Judith scolded her daughter. “Go find your father and see if there’s anything you can do to help.”