“But?”
Her gaze jumped up to Nicolette’s. “I have… burdens…”
“In your heart.”
“Yes.” Allie gulped and looked back down. It was hard to maintain eye contact with anyone in Shallow Springs for long—anyone who called her by the name Melissa.
“I won’t pressure you, but if you care to share at any time, I am here.”
Allie’s eyes burned as she peeked at Nicolette through her lashes. “Thank you. You are very kind and yet another one of the reasons this place is so wonderful.”
Nicolette paused in her knitting to press a hand to her heart. “Oh, dear, you are a jewel. Do you know that?”
The tears collected faster, and Allie blinked so they would not fall. “No,” she whispered, desperately shaking her head. “I am not.”
“Melissa.”
A touch on Allie’s hand made her look up. Nicolette gazed at her intensely.
“Everyone is special in God’s eyes. It doesn’t matter what we’ve done or how low our own opinions of ourselves might be.”
“What makes you believe that?” Allie whispered painfully.
“I feel it deep in my heart, and if my heart tells me something, that’s good enough for me. I don’t need to go searching for the answers anywhere else.”
Allie smiled woefully. She’d failed at keeping the tears at bay, and a few of them trickled down her cheeks.
“Go to God,” Nicolette affirmed. “Whatever it is, find it from Him. He has all we’ll ever need.”
Allie knew God could take away her guilt, but He could not take away the deception she had weaved. Of course, this was something she could not tell Nicolette.
So she only nodded. “Thank you for speaking with me.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime.” She squeezed Allie’s hand.
“I should be getting back to bed.”
“Sleep well, Melissa.”
Pain shot through Allie’s heart, and she paused at the end of the room. “Good night.”
In her small bedroom, Allie opened the window wider. It did very little in the way of lessening the stifling air, but if a breeze were to blow through, she would at least receive a touch of it.
Lying atop the covers, on her side, she folded her hands under her cheeks and looked out the window.
Was Juana sleeping as well, so far away in New York? Or was she also lying awake, thinking about what had happened and hoping Allie fared well?
Nicolette’s tender words and soft touch came back to Allie, and she shut her eyes as a fresh wave of tears leaked out.
The Dentons cared for her in a fashion she had never experienced. Her aunt loved her, yes, but Lena had not been an affectionate person. She’d never spoken to or touched Allie the way Matt and Nicolette did. Even Harold, who was a stiffer personality, always had a grin and a twinkle in his eye for her.
They were more than she deserved.
And they were everything she wanted.
So what did she do?
God, give me answers. Please.
Allie silently repeated the prayer, again and again, until sleep overtook her.
7
7. Matt
Chapter Seven
“Whoa!” Matt commanded Dutch, the ox. The burly beast obeyed right away, happy to take a break.
Removing his hat, Matt wiped sweat from his brow and leaned against the plow. The smell of the freshly churned earth filled his nostrils. The dirt’s scent had that baking quality to it—and no surprise there.
As he put his hat back on so low that it covered his eyes, Matt scanned the sky. It was a clear blue day as far as he could see. No sign of even white, puffy clouds; certainly not of dark gray, fat-with-water ones.
Matt’s attention fell to the plow’s shadow. Judging by its length, it wasn’t yet three o’clock. That meant he still had a few more hours to go till supper. A few more hours till he set eyes on Melissa again.
She’d returned to her usual quietness since their picnic two days before, but that didn’t deter him at all. He’d talked to his folks a little about it, and they were all in agreement: Melissa was warming up to her new life, but it was a slow process.
Anything good took time. Matt knew that, and he had patience.
“Giddyup,” he told the ox, and on they went, nearing the end of what had to be the twentieth row.
“Matt.”
Pa’s voice was firm and commanding. Matt stopped the ox and turned around. His father hurried toward him, coming from the direction of the stable.
“You see that smoke?”
Matt looked westward, to where he pointed. A thin line of smoke curled up into the sky, just beyond the grove of trees separating the Beelers’ land from theirs. Matt’s torso constricted.
“What’s going on?”
“Don’t know,” Pa gruffly answered. “Put Dutch away and get the horses.”
Matt obeyed. There was a word neither one of them wanted to say, but it rang in Matt’s head the whole time he put the ox in the barn and saddled Dora and Trigger.
Fire.
Whether it was a wildfire or flames latched onto the Beelers’ property, it wasn’t good.
They rode fast, arriving at the Beelers’ house within a few minutes. It was just as Matt had feared. Flames were eating up one of the barns while Mr. and Mrs. Beeler and their two teenaged children worked frantically to douse the wood with water from the well.
Jumping from Dora, Matt took both of the horses’ reins as his father rushed into the melee. The horses reared back, nostrils flaring and eyes rolling, every instinct they had telling them to run for the hills.
“Shh,” Matt told them. “It’s all right.” Taking them around to the front of the Beelers’ log cabin, he tied them up to a post there. His neighbors’ own animals were nowhere in sight. Were any of them in the barn that had caught fire?
Running back to the barn, Matt got to work scooping water and throwing it onto the flames. No one exchanged words; there wasn’t even time for a hello. The flames were devouring the barn.
A whinny came from the second barn, and Matt looked over to see Beelers’ horses had been tied up inside of it.
Good. At least the animals are out of the way.
Another bucket of water came down the short line they’d formed, and Matt aimed it at one of the fieriest points. He tossed bucket after bucket, dancing around the flames and finding the best spots.
“Switch with me!” Mr. Beeler shouted over the crackling and roaring. Matt gratefully stepped back and took a position passing water down the line. Standing so close to the flames made him feel as if the hair on his arms was burning off.
More neighbors had gathered, and the makeshift fire brigade came to ten total. With only one well bucket at hand, they used feed buckets as well. The fire shrank, admitting its defeat.
Finally, it was over. The flames had charred one wall of the barn black, but the structure still stood… for the time being. The full extent of the damage remained to be seen; if it was bad enough, there was a good chance the whole barn would have to be rebuilt.
Sitting in the grass, Matt sighed deep. He wiped his cheek and came away with soot on his face.
“Here.” The youngest Beeler, George, offered him the well bucket. Matt took the ladle and drank gratefully. His handkerchief had been tucked so deep in his pocket that it had stayed mostly clean. Taking it out, he wet it and wiped his face and hands down.
“It was a spark from the smokehouse,” he overheard Mr. Beeler telling the group circled nearby. His wife pressed her trembling lips together. Matt knew how she felt.
They’d been lucky to have caught the fire in time. A few more minutes, and it could have burned the whole barn to the ground—not only that, but perhaps jumped to the house as well.
“The Lord was with us today,” someone murmured.
Matt hauled himself to standing and went to inspect the front of the barn. Stepping in through the doorway, he studied the damaged area. As suspected,
the framework had taken a hard hit. Shallow Springs could have a barn raising happening soon.
“Close call,” Pa said from behind him.
Matt stepped out of the barn, not liking the eerie feeling he got standing inside. “It was just a spark?”
“That’s all it takes.” Pa removed his hat and rubbed his brows, then looked at the soot on his fingers. “Let’s take a lesson from today. I’ll tell your ma to put off the smoking until this dry spell is over.”
Matt nodded and went to fetch the horses, who were still pulling at their ropes, milling around in anxiety.
“Shh, Dora. Shh, Trigger.” He patted their flanks. “Don’t you worry. The fire is dead. It won’t get you.”
They rode back to the farm at a walk, giving the horses a bit of the relaxation they needed. As their buildings rose into view, Pa looked over at Matt.
“Your ma mentioned something this morning...”
Matt didn’t like the tone of his voice. It seemed off, too cautious.
“What’s that?”
“She was wondering if Melissa might need more time before the wedding.”
“Oh.” Matt frowned. “We can take as much time as she needs. I’m not pushing her into—”
“I know, son. I know.”
He looked sideways at his father, sitting tall atop Trigger despite the toiling he’d just done. “You’re making sure I agree?”
“I know you agree. You’re a good man. You’ve exceeded our expectations. I was only thinking… was wondering if you hadn’t considered… that Melissa might have been through more than she’s letting on.”
Matt stared. “What do you mean, Pa? Been through what?”
He exhaled heavily. “I don’t rightly know. It’s just a hunch I have, is all.”
Matt worked his tongue around, thoughts speeding through his head. “Does Ma know? Has she said anything to Melissa? Asked her anything?”
“Your Ma thinks the same thing I do, but neither of us have explicitly asked Melissa anything. Her past is her own, and it’s up to her to share it as she sees fit. She’s a good woman. I believe that. I don’t see any way she can be of harm to this family.”
“And she’s not.”
Matt must have said it a tad too forcefully, because his father gave him a hard look.
“I care for her, Pa, a lot.” Matt swallowed. He’d been on the verge of saying he loved her, but he wasn’t ready to admit that yet. He needed to say those words to Melissa before he shared them with anyone else. “What do you think she’s been through? Her brother died a year ago. He got sick real quick.”
“It could be it’s only that.” There was doubt in his voice. Matt knew his father didn’t really believe the words he was saying.
And, suddenly, neither did Matt.
What are you keeping from us, Melissa?
He stared at his little house as he rode past it, headed for the stable. Soon, it would be their home. The place they would share for the rest of their lives. He’d opened himself up to her. If she asked him anything, he would give an honest answer.
He was doing his best to be patient, but he was starting to hate how awfully he wished she had the same transparency.
8
8. Allie
Chapter Eight
The church was empty. Quiet. Just the way Allie preferred it.
For the first time since moving to the Dentons’ farm, Allie had ventured into town of her own accord. The afternoon’s chores had flown by, and when Allie suggested she might like to visit the church for a short time, Nicolette passionately agreed.
Their conversation from the night before had been on Allie’s mind all day. She’d been praying fervently, and still, the answer had not come. Did she reveal her truth or not?
Sighing, Allie sat back against the pew and dabbed at the sweat along her collar’s line. Nicolette had told her to not worry about being home before supper, but Allie was beginning to wonder precisely how much praying one soul could do in a day.
The sound of a door opening to her right made her look over. Reverend Pullman entered from the side door, a stack of papers in his hands. He looked surprised to see someone in the chapel.
“Miss Russell”—he nodded—“it’s wonderful to see you here.”
“Church is a wonderful place to be, Reverend.” An idea briefly surfaced in her mind. What if she were to tell Reverend Pullman of her troubles? Surely a man of God would be understanding and not judge her too harshly?
Allie ran her bottom lip between her teeth, undecided. The thought of speaking honestly still caused her nausea and anxiety. It did not matter who she imagined herself talking with.
“Mercy me!” a woman cried from outside of the church.
Allie turned around, looking over the pews and through the open front door.
“Another fire,” a second woman said.
Leaving her perch, Allie went to the church’s steps. She shaded her eyes, looking for what the two women in the street were talking about.
There it was: a curl of smoke, northwest of town. Allie chewed on the inside of her cheek in worry. That was not the Denton farm, was it?
No, she decided. It was a bit too much to the west.
Closing her eyes briefly, she said a quick prayer for whomever the fire was affecting. When she opened her eyes, a familiar figure was walking in her direction.
“Miss Russell,” Kitty Ross greeted her in her smooth and patient voice. “How do you do?”
“Well. And how are you?” Allie nervously looked at the woman standing next to Kitty. Though she’d yet to meet Helen, surely this was her. The two sisters were almost the mirror image of each other.
“Wonderful. Miss Russell, this is my sister, Helen.”
“How do you do?” Helen asked, smiling away.
“Nat Keenan’s betrothed,” Allie commented.
Helen’s cheeks went pink, and she giggled. “Guilty.”
“Did you see the smoke?” Kitty asked, frowning in worry. She turned to take it in. Almost everyone in the street had stopped to stare that way. As they stood there, several men on horseback rushed by, headed in the direction of it.
“I do hope everyone is all right,” Helen murmured.
Kitty did not answer, and it was then that Allie saw she had her eyes closed. Her lips moved in a silent prayer. She did not seem the least bit bothered by the presence of anyone else.
Right then, Allie’s admiration for the woman doubled.
Kitty opened her eyes and sighed in a way that sounded more relief filled than anxiety ridden. It was as if, for her, the fire had already been put out.
“Let us pray and hope for the best.” Turning to Allie, Kitty cocked her head. “I am sorry we have not had much time to speak yet. Helen and I are heading home now. Will you join us for a cup of tea?”
I cannot, were the first words Allie considered saying, but she hesitated. She had been in Shallow Springs for almost two weeks, and while the Dentons were wonderful, she found herself missing female companionship of her own age.
She missed Juana. She missed all the women she had grown close to and lost.
And so, while she knew that entertaining the possibility of friendship in Shallow Springs was a dangerous endeavor, Allie found she could not tell Kitty no.
She planned on staying in Shallow Springs for the rest of her life, God willing. Living as a hermit would not be possible.
As long as she was cautious with her words, Allie now decided, forming relationships should be no problem.
“Tea sounds wonderful,” Allie said. “Thank you.”
“Yay!” Helen clapped her hands together in excitement.
A grin stretching across her face, Allie followed the sisters down the main street and to their home on the edge of town.
“What a beautiful house,” she commented as they let themselves through the front gate. She could not stop staring at the wide porch with a swinging bench and several rocking chairs.
“Thank you,” Kitty answ
ered. “I myself cannot take any credit for it. It was built and waiting for us when we arrived.”
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