Season Of Hope

by Cox, Carol

  Rachel sprang to her feet, shoved her arms into her coat sleeves, and hurried out to the barn. Violet poked her head outside just as Rachel tucked the old sewing basket into the wagon. “What are you doing?” she called.

  “I have an errand to run,” Rachel replied and got the team moving. She had to do this before she changed her mind. If she took time to explain her mission to Violet, she might talk herself out of it.

  She drove the team at a brisk trot along the frost-covered road, not slowing until they came to a shabby-looking place. Rachel stopped the horses in front of the run-down cabin. Hooking her arm through the basket handle, she marched to the door and rapped on it sharply. A moment later, a seamed face appeared in the doorway.

  “Miss Rachel?” Jeb McCurdy’s eyes widened ludicrously at the sight of his neighbor. He hurriedly smoothed his hair back with both hands and hitched his trousers a notch higher. “What can I do for you?”

  Rachel lifted her chin and moistened her lips. “I’ve come to make you an offer on your tomcat, Mr. McCurdy.”

  “On my—” The old man’s mouth dropped open. “Miss Rachel, are you joking?”

  Rachel tapped her foot in irritation. “Of course not. I’m perfectly serious. I’m talking business here. Are you interested or not?”

  Jeb McCurdy rubbed a gnarled hand over his grizzled beard and regarded her thoughtfully. “Seems to me, the last time you saw my cat, you called him some powerful unfriendly names. ‘Wayward’ and ‘wanton’ came into it, if I recall.” His eyes narrowed. “And now you want to pay good money for him and take him home with you, is that it?”

  Rachel felt a blush heat her face but held her ground. “That is correct. I wish to purchase your cat.”

  Minutes passed while her neighbor eyed her thoughtfully. “The thing is, I just have to wonder what on earth you want with him, you taking such a dislike to him earlier and all.” A glint of suspicion sparked in his eyes. “Cats make good tamales, I hear. You ain’t planning to eat him, are you?”

  “Of course not.” Rachel gagged at the revolting idea. “I simply feel that he might be of some value to me. . . .” She let her voice trail off, unable to find the words to explain her plan.

  A moment of silence ensued, followed by a wheezing laugh. Jeb McCurdy’s shoulders shook with glee. “So you decided there’s something the old boy’s good for, after all, eh?” His face contorted with suppressed mirth, then he leaned against the doorjamb and howled. “If that don’t beat all!”

  Rachel drew herself erect. “Are you willing to sell him or not?” she asked, her voice laced with impatience.

  Jeb McCurdy caught his breath and wiped his watering eyes. “Oh, I’ll sell him, all right. He doesn’t stay around here half the time anyway, and now I won’t have to worry about you coming after me every time he shows up on your place. What are you offering?”

  Rachel held out a handful of silver, and the old man reached for it with a smile. “Just a minute,” Rachel said, drawing her hand back. “The price includes the cat, caught and confined in this basket.”

  McCurdy looked as if he wanted to argue, then shrugged and pulled on his coat. “Come on, little lady. Let’s go find your tom.” He pocketed the money, then looked straight at her. “I want the pick of the first litter,” he said with a knowing wink.

  Thirty minutes later, she drove back into the yard, basking in her sense of accomplishment. Violet hurried out to greet her, pulling her shawl tight over her head and shoulders. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “And what’s that noise?” She pointed to the wicker container, from whence an outraged yowling emanated. Her brow puckered in consternation. “Rachel, you haven’t been doing anything to Molly, have you?”

  “Help me fix up a place in the barn, and I’ll explain.” Rachel led the way into the barn, where she proceeded to fashion a sort of cage out of several old crates. When she felt satisfied, she held the mouth of the basket to the opening and released the catch on the lid. Out sprang the wide-eyed tom, his fur standing on end.

  Violet gasped. “Rachel, what on earth—”

  “He’s a business investment,” Rachel told her smugly.

  Violet goggled at her. “Investment? You don’t mean you spent good money on that creature, when you’ve been so worried about making ends meet?” She put her hand on Rachel’s forehead.

  Rachel laughed happily and brushed her hand away. “I’m learning, Violet, that God’s provision comes in various forms, some of them quite unexpected.”

  ❧

  The streets of Prescott bustled with activity. Rachel took her time stepping down from the wagon and meticulously straightened the lines of her best wool dress. Taking a firm grip on her reticule, she walked through the bank’s doors and headed straight for Ben Murphy’s office.

  “Good morning, Ben,” she called through the open door. “I need a moment of your time.”

  “Rachel, it’s good to see you.” The banker rose from his desk and hurried to greet her. His smile of greeting warmed her, but she could also see the worry in his eyes and realized he didn’t expect her to make the payment. He thinks I’ve come to beg for more time and doesn’t know how he’ll tell me no. She smiled in return, planning to enjoy her moment to its fullest.

  Ben pulled a leather-covered chair closer to his desk and seated her in it with a solicitous air. “How have you been, Rachel?”

  “Pretty well,” she replied. “We’ve been working hard, you know.”

  “Ah, yes.” Ben’s smile lost a fraction of its brightness, and he folded his hands together, tapping his thumbs nervously. “There’s a lot to running a farm. Especially when you’re trying to do it single-handed.”

  “That’s true,” Rachel agreed, maintaining her solemn expression. “Ben, it’s almost Christmas. . . .” She allowed her voice to trail off.

  He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down behind his starched collar. “I know, Rachel, and don’t think for a minute I don’t sympathize with your plight. It’s just that—”

  “So I hope this will make your holiday a bit brighter.” Rachel reached into her reticule and produced a thick envelope. She laid it in the center of Ben’s desk with a flourish.

  Ben’s mouth dropped open, and he gawked at it in a most undignified manner. “What–what’s this?”

  Rachel stifled her inclination to laugh. “It’s the money we owe you,” she said in her most formal tone. “All of it. The amount of both notes, paid in full, and nearly a week ahead of schedule.”

  Ben closed his mouth and swallowed. He opened it again and tried to speak, but no words came out. He pulled a snowy handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed at his forehead. Finally he managed, “But how. . . ?”

  “God’s grace,” Rachel replied softly. “It’s His provision, pure and simple.”

  Ben nodded, still staring unbelievingly. After counting the money, he wrote out a receipt and handed her the cancelled note. “Congratulations. It’s all yours now, free and clear.”

  Rachel left the bank, blinking back tears of joy. She stood on the boardwalk and surveyed the scene before her with heightened appreciation. The broad expanse of the plaza, the false-fronted buildings, and the wide, dusty streets held a beauty she’d never noticed before. Even the gunmetal gray of the brooding winter sky couldn’t dampen her euphoric mood.

  She had done it. No, God had done it. She could hardly believe her ordeal had finally ended. The new sense of freedom seemed too good to be true. With a light step, she walked to the wagon and stepped up on the wheel hub.

  “Trying to beg a little more time off Ben, are you?” Hiram Bradshaw’s raspy voice came from directly behind her.

  Rachel spun around and slipped off the wheel hub. She caught the side of the wagon to keep herself from toppling over and winced when splinters from its rough edge grazed her fingers. Pressing her hand against her dress, she ignored the hurt and glared straight at Hiram. Not for anything would she let him know she felt pain.

  “As
a matter of fact, you’re wrong again. I’ve just paid off my loans. Both of them. The farm belongs to me, Hiram, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Hiram snorted. “Nice try, but I happen to know there’s no way you could have come up with the money.” He sneered and leaned against the wagon as though they were having a civil chat.

  “There are ways higher than ours,” Rachel told him, her joy overshadowing her distaste for his company. “Maybe this will convince you.” She held the cancelled notes out for him to see.

  With a look of disbelief, Hiram wheeled toward the bank. She could hear him bellowing Ben’s name even after he entered the building.

  sixteen

  Rachel drove home in a blissful haze. Now that the load of responsibility had been lifted from her shoulders, she felt as though she might float right up to the top of Granite Mountain. Even her fingers had ceased to pain her. She threw back her head and laughed, causing the horses to prick their ears in her direction. “There’s nothing to worry about,” she called to them. “I’m just making a joyful noise.”

  While the team carried her home, she made plans for the coming year. With the extra money provided by the sale of Molly’s kittens, she could buy additional seed and plant another twenty acres. That would cover the expense of hiring workers to help bring in next fall’s harvest and still leave her and Violet with a tidy profit.

  On top of that, she now knew her eggs could bring in enough to take care of most of their household expenses. And she had her newly acquired ace in the hole, Jeb McCurdy’s tomcat. Any litters he and Molly produced would mean extra income they could put by for emergencies.

  It meant freedom, she thought, reveling in the heady feeling of independence. No longer would she have to depend on Daniel and his sense of duty to her father. His debt had long since been discharged. He could pursue his mining interests, unhindered by any onus of responsibility toward them.

  The thought of him leaving filled her with sorrow, but she knew God could take care of that part of her life too. She focused on her trust in Him and resolved to ignore the only dark cloud on her otherwise happy horizon.

  ❧

  Violet celebrated their release from debt by making a special supper of fried chicken, beans, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Conversation lagged at the table while the three of them savored the delicious meal.

  Afterward, Rachel sat in her customary place by the fireside, wanting to enjoy an evening free from the hectic pace of the past months.

  She glanced toward the table, where Daniel and Violet still sat engaged in an animated conversation. Rachel watched the glint of the firelight on their heads, one fair, one sable, and thought what a handsome pair they made.

  She had to admit Daniel had been very good for Violet. Her sister had regained her vivacious spirit and had a sparkle in her eyes Rachel hadn’t seen since before Pa’s death. Rachel noticed a new lilt in her voice and spring in her step, as well.

  Daniel too seemed different. Instead of the wary man Rachel saw when he first arrived, his eyes now held a flash of hope and determination. He looked like a man with a purpose, and Rachel knew full well what that purpose was.

  How long would it be before he asked her permission to marry Violet? A sense of dread gnawed at her stomach, one she couldn’t disregard.

  Looking at it from a practical standpoint, it made perfect sense. The two of them could settle in Prescott, where Daniel could keep Violet in fine style as well as work his mining claim. It would give Violet the kind of home life Pa had wanted for her. And it would free Rachel from having to worry about more than just the farm and herself.

  She could spend her days on the place she loved. . .alone. Rachel picked up some mending and concentrated on threading her needle, determined not to give in to the loneliness that beset her without warning.

  After all her hard work to keep the farm, the prospect of having it all to herself seemed unaccountably bleak. What would her life be like without Violet around? It wouldn’t be like she’d lost her sister, she admonished herself. Violet would still live nearby, close enough that they could visit frequently.

  Rachel shot another glance at her sister, who listened to Daniel with rapt attention, then nodded eagerly. She seemed smitten enough with him, but then, who wouldn’t? Rachel allowed her gaze to roam over his strong features, taking in the sandy hair bleached even lighter by the sun, the forest-green eyes, and the small cleft that softened the determined set of his chin.

  How could any woman in her right mind not be attracted to him? If his physical appearance alone wasn’t enough to capture attention, what about the character he had shown when he set himself to work unpaid for two young women he didn’t even know?

  Daniel patted Violet’s hand, and Rachel smiled wistfully. He had only come to pay a debt. And she had only intended to let him. She’d never expected him to become such a permanent—and treasured—fixture in their lives.

  Her mind flitted back to the day Daniel made his proposal. Looking back, she now believed he’d meant exactly what he said—he had only wanted to help them both. Her eyes grew misty. What would have happened if she had accepted his proposal and agreed to marry him? A shiver of delight ran up her spine.

  No! She caught herself up sternly. She would not, would not dwell on idle dreams of what might have been. Not when his offer had been based on pity and not on a true desire to have her as his wife. Not when he was now the man Violet loved.

  She stabbed the needle through the fabric with angry, jerky movements. These foolish fancies wouldn’t do. She had determined before God to follow the right path and wish for her sister’s good. She could only assume He had shown His will in providing a husband for Violet in this unexpected way.

  At sixteen, Violet was undeniably young, but not so young she couldn’t marry. Rachel had known plenty of girls who’d said their vows at that age. The surprise she felt that Violet would be getting married first rankled her. She’d always assumed it would be the other way around, with her being older and all, but who said it always had to happen that way?

  She would endorse Violet’s choice with a smile, giving her all the support she could muster. And somehow, she would get used to thinking of Daniel as her sister’s husband.

  ❧

  The knife blade passed along the whetstone a final time. Daniel tested it with his thumb and smiled. Good and sharp. He had always had a knack for honing a tool to its keenest edge.

  Careful of the razor-sharp blade, he carried the knife toward the house. Rachel had complained about its dullness only the night before. She should be pleasantly surprised by his good deed.

  He had taken Violet’s advice to heart and stayed around the place, making himself useful and keeping Rachel aware of his presence. Piling up firewood and mending tools and harness hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, but he wanted to do something that would affect her more personally. A sharpened knife was a small thing, but it would be a start.

  While the harvest was underway and they’d scrabbled to pull together every cent they could, he had held off on making major overtures to her. She’d had all she could handle then just trying to keep things going, and he saw no point in overburdening her. But now that she’d been freed from the pressure of the loan, Daniel felt the time had come to move forward.

  He entered the kitchen and found Rachel, hands on her hips, staring at a loaf of freshly baked bread.

  “Have you seen—” Her eyes widened when he held out the knife.

  “Looking for this?” He grinned at her surprise. “Watch out for that blade,” he cautioned when she reached for the handle. “It’s sharp.”

  She tapped the edge with a cautious finger, and her face creased in a smile of delight. “Just what I needed!” She gave him a grateful look and began to slice the bread with easy strokes. “Just for that, how would you like some bread and jam?”

  “Throw in a glass of milk, and you’ve got a deal.” He watched her set a crock of butter on the table beside the bread, t
hen reach for the jam jar. Even doing simple kitchen chores, her movements were smooth and graceful. Easy on a man’s eyes, he thought. Something he could enjoy watching for a long time—like the rest of his life.

  He tried to hide his pleasure when she poured two glasses of milk and sat down across from him. No point in scaring her away, not when he’d just started making progress. He searched for something to say.

  “How does it feel to be half owner of the finest farm around?” The question seemed safe enough, given their re-cent celebration.

  Rachel took a moment to spread jam evenly over her bread, then smiled. “Actually,” she said, propping her elbows against the edge of the table and lacing her fingers together, “I’m the full owner. Pa left it all to me.” Her smile broadened. “Violet isn’t tied to the farm in any way.” She popped a bite of bread in her mouth and chewed, a pleased expression spreading across her face.

  Daniel pursed his lips and let out a low whistle. Why didn’t it surprise him that Ike would leave his property in Rachel’s capable hands? Her father had been well aware of her love for the land.

  Rachel finished her bread and took a drink of milk. Daniel couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d tilted the glass a little too high, and a thin white line decorated her upper lip.

  He picked up a napkin and swiped at her lip. “Just wiping off your mustache,” he said in answer to her startled look. He reached out to blot her mouth again. It felt good to be so close to her, to feel her breath brush across his hand. And she didn’t need to know he’d gotten every bit of milk off her face the first time.

  He polished off his milk with one long swallow and rose to leave. If he stayed there with her, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t try to stroke her face again and again. No point in pushing things along too fast, not when it seemed he was finally making some headway.

  ❧

  Rachel watched the door close behind him and touched the knife with a tender smile. How kind of him to take note of her fussing last night and sharpen it without saying a word. One corner of her mouth tilted upward. It appeared that Daniel felt the same way she did—if they were going to spend the rest of their lives as part of the same family, they might as well make sure they would be on good terms.