“Sounds like a very smart man with good advice.”
“I think so.”
Her light response made him flush. “The men will be leaving soon. They’ll be coming down to tell you good-bye. I thought you might want to see them off.”
She sat up abruptly. “They’re leaving right now? I was hoping they’d stay for a while. I wish they would.”
“I asked for the same thing. Unfortunately, they couldn’t be persuaded.”
Pressing her palms to her cheeks, she said, “I’ll freshen up and be down presently.”
“I’ll let them know. Thank you,” he said as he edged out of the room and closed the door behind him.
As he walked back down the stairs, he realized things were about to change between him and Laurel. Now that she was no longer in danger, he needed to go back to his rightful role on the ranch. He needed to put some distance between them and move back to his room in the barn.
Funny, but he had a feeling that, in some ways, he was about to tell her good-bye too.
35
TELLING THE MEN GOOD-BYE HAD BEEN EASIER THAN Laurel thought it would be. No doubt it was because they looked so eager to be on their way. After another light but hasty meal, they each bowed over her hand and wished her well. Then they each shook Thomas’s hand, gave him a hug, said a few words, and went to fetch their horses from the barn.
Thomas seemed to handle their departure in a stoic manner. He stood beside her on the front porch as they turned their animals and rode out.
Watching their forms change to faint silhouettes to eventual faint clouds of dust, Laurel felt Thomas’s dismay. Though of course he didn’t say anything, she knew he was no doubt disappointed that he’d be bound to her for another eleven months. That he couldn’t be off on his own adventures, live his own life.
“They are good men,” she said when there was nothing left of them to see. “I’ll always be grateful for their help.”
“I know I’ve said it before, but they are the best.”
Now that they were alone again, she felt a little awkward. After all, what did you say to a man who had saved your world? “Would you care for something more to eat?”
“No, Miss Laurel.” He pursed his lips. “Actually, I was thinking I would go get settled back in the barn.”
“Why?”
“You know as well as I do that it ain’t seemly for me to be living in the house with you. People will talk.”
“Surely we don’t have to worry about what other people say anymore.” Her reputation had undoubtedly been ripped to tatters the moment she’d walked through the crowd and paid good money to make him her servant.
Still staring straight ahead, he said, “Eventually Marshall’s betrayal will fade and you will get lonely. When a man comes courting, he’s not going to be real pleased to discover me sleeping down the hall.”
“You moved into the house for my safety,” she pointed out. “You were down the hall to protect me.”
“I was there for that reason, but you’re safe now. You don’t have any need for me to be so close to you at all times.”
She supposed he was right. Oh, not about her entertaining suitors, but about the other thing. She was safer now. At least, her head knew that.
But her heart and nerves did not. She did need him. She wanted him nearby. She wanted him as close as possible.
“Can you please wait a couple of nights, Thomas?”
“Miss Tracey . . .”
She hated that he was speaking to her in such a formal way again. Hated that he was putting up a wall between them that she wished didn’t exist. “Please don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Don’t push me away. Don’t pretend we’re nothing more than employer and employee. We’ve come too far for that.”
“I agree.” He looked pained. “But it’s because we are more to each other that I feel we should return some of that distance between us.”
“I disagree.”
“Miss Tracey, please. Allow me this. I’m trying to do the right thing by you. I’m as far from a gentleman as a man can get, but I know at least this much.”
“All right.”
“Good.”
“But not yet,” she said quickly. “Stay down the hall two more nights. Please, Thomas? I already know I won’t be able to sleep much tonight. Don’t make it worse.”
He stared at her for a length of time. Lifted his hand as though he wanted to curve it around her cheek, then let it drop to his side. “All right,” he said around a sigh. “I’ll stay in there for two more nights. But no longer.”
“Thank you, Thomas.”
“Don’t thank me for this, Miss Laurel,” he said in a low tone. “I’m doing this because I can’t bear to say no to you. But that don’t mean I’m doing either of us any favors.”
“I understand.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to go check the barn and see what kind of mess the men left for me.”
“You think they left you a mess?”
“They’re good men, not perfect,” he replied with a dry smile before walking away.
Watching him walk away, she realized what she needed to do.
When she came back from town the following afternoon, tears were in her eyes. She could only hope Thomas wouldn’t notice.
“I have something for you,” Laurel said the moment she found him working in her garden, his sleeves rolled up and a disgruntled expression on his face.
Sitting back on his haunches, he looked at the paper curiously. “What do you have there? I thought you were going for more supplies. Did you get mail too?”
“Stand up and I’ll show you.”
After stretching his arms, he slowly got to his feet. “You came in the nick of time,” he teased. “I was about to tackle these bean plants. Now you can help me with them.”
Noticing the stage of growth the beans were in, she said, “What were you going to do? None of them are ready to be picked.”
“They aren’t? Huh. Well, in that case, it seems your arrival saved them from certain death.”
In spite of the lump in her throat, she giggled. But that was always how it was with him. He brought light into her world even when she knew there shouldn’t be anything but clouds or darkness. What was she going to do without him?
Almost immediately, she pushed that question away. It didn’t matter what she was going to do or how she was going to feel. All that mattered was him. Thomas Baker needed to start living for himself.
“Now I know two things about you. You don’t like chickens and you don’t know anything about gardening.”
Pulling the paper out of her hand, he flashed her another one of his brilliant smiles. “Well, I definitely do not like chickens, but I did learn something about gardening in that prisoner of war camp,” he countered. “Just maybe not enough. I’d better be careful or you aren’t going to think I’m worth keeping around.”
That was as good an opening as any. She leapt on it. “I might have already come to that conclusion.”
“Hmm?” he asked as he unfolded the paper and scanned through the writing. His right hand gripped the paper, wrinkling it slightly as he scanned the words again. “Laurel, what did you do?”
“I got you your freedom,” she said, hoping she looked more triumphant about what she’d done than she felt.
“What? How?”
“I did pick up a few supplies, but this is the main reason I went into town. I talked to Judge Orbison and Sheriff Jackson about you and what you did for me. For Sweetwater, actually.”
“For Sweetwater,” he echoed.
“Yes. I reminded them that you helped prevent what could have been a horrible situation. If Marshall and his men hadn’t been stopped, who knows what else they would have done to my cattle and my ranch, not to mention people could have lost their lives.” Lifting her chin slightly, she added, “I was fully prepared to do whatever it took to convince them I was right, but it turned out I didn’t need to do much convincing at all.”
“No?” He
still held the paper in one hand, looking for all the world as though he hardly cared what was written on it.
“Not at all. Actually, they agreed that such a service needed to be rewarded.”
“So you got me my freedom.”
She smiled. “Yes. A man like you never should have been an indentured servant in the first place. You’re free, Thomas. You can leave me whenever you want.”
His face turned expressionless, but then his lips curved up slightly. “Free to leave you, hmm?”
She wasn’t sure she liked how that sounded, or the glint in his eyes that looked suspiciously like pain. “That was a slip of the tongue. What I meant to say is that you are free to leave the Red Roan Ranch.”
“If I leave, how will you manage? This is a big ranch, Laurel. It would be a lot for a man to handle on his own, let alone a woman by herself.”
She knew he was right. But some things were more important than even a family legacy or a home to live in. She was willing to sell the ranch if she had to. Nothing was more important than ensuring Thomas’s freedom. “I’ll make do.”
“How?” he scoffed. “Are you planning to hire someone else?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure.” Stuttering a bit, she added, “I don’t know what I’ll do.” She was feeling defeated. How could she feel so optimistic one moment and so deflated the next?
“If you do try to hire someone else, what will you pay them with? I know you put the majority of your cash on me. Even convicts cost money.”
“I know.” Not liking the harsh way he was looking at her, she took a step backward.
“Laurel, did the judge give you your money back?”
“Of course not,” she sputtered.
His gaze was cool. Cold. “So you have almost nothing.”
That was where he was wrong. “I have a lot. I have my pride. I have my safety. I’m no longer afraid for my future.” She was only sad that her future was going to be a lonely one.
He stared at her for a long moment, then seemed to come to a silent decision.
Dropping the paper onto the dark soil, he reached for her. “You’re right,” he drawled, his lips brushing her ear. “Those are all real good things. But still . . . what you have won’t be enough.”
His hands were covered with a light dusting of soil. He was hot and sweaty and was holding her so close she could practically feel frustration pour off him.
Yet she also sensed the way he made her feel so secure. The warmth of his breath against her skin. The faint smell of soap mixed with leather and earth and everything that was Thomas. And because of all that, he still felt right. So right.
Which was why she knew she had to do the right thing too. Firmly, she pushed away from him so she could look into his eyes. “You need to let me give you your freedom. I want you to be able to get away from here.”
“No.”
“What? Thomas, if you read that letter again, you’ll see it says—”
“I can’t read all that well. But that hardly matters to me at the moment. I know everything I need to know right here, right now.”
“What is that?” she asked, dreading his answer. Her heart felt as though it had stopped beating.
“That I belong with you. I need to be with you, Laurel Tracey. And not as your worker. Not even as your protector. I want to be your husband.” Lowering his voice, he said softly, “I want to be yours.”
Her pulse jumped as she got warm all over. Was he truly saying what she thought he was? “You sound so sure.”
The corners of his mouth lifted as he reached again for her hands. “Oh, I am. I don’t know a lot of things. I’ve actually spent most of my life wishing I knew far more than I do. But one thing I know without a bit of doubt is that I want you forever.”
He swallowed. “Laurel, I love you. If I promise to give you the best of myself, if I promise to work hard and care for you and work your land and do my best to protect you from the bad things life can bring . . . will you have me?”
“I will . . . if you can promise me one more thing,” she said, now feeling as though her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that he could surely hear it.
“Anything. Name it.”
“Will . . . will you promise to still love me tomorrow?”
“I promise, honey. And the next day. And the day after that,” he said before his lips crashed down over hers.
He kissed her with no finesse, little gentleness, and complete fervor. His arms held her tightly, his body strong and solid next to hers. This, she realized, was Thomas.
Passionate and strong. Impulsive and sure. Everything that had been lacking in her life until he’d come. And everything that had happened since he’d stepped into her life.
She held on to his strength and reveled in his love.
Suddenly, they had a future.
Suddenly, they had each other.
And when they had all that, nothing else was needed.
They had enough.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.What do you hope to discover when you read historical fiction?
2.This novel centers on various interpretations of protecting. Protecting land, values, other people, one’s heart. Which kind of “protecting” are you most familiar with? Which theme in the novel resonated with you?
3.What do you think of Thomas Baker? Is he truly a hero? Why or why not?
4.What about Laurel? Was she actually in need of protection?
5.It might be obvious that my favorite parts of these novels are the scenes back in the prisoner of war camp on Johnson’s Island. Did you care for them? Why or why not? What hero are you most intrigued by?
6.All of the characters in the novel have been marked by tragedy in some way. Each is attempting to come to terms with that and move forward. What has helped you recover from difficult situations in your life?
7.I loved the scripture quote from Zechariah: “I promise this very day that I will repay two blessings for each of your troubles.” I thought it described the storylines of the main characters in the novel very well. When have you received two blessings for each of your troubles?
8.Which Lone Star Hero are you most interested in reading about in the last book of the series?
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
THOUGH MY NAME IS ON THE BOOK’S COVER, THERE ARE SO many people who worked very hard to guide this novel to publication! First and foremost is the amazing team at HarperCollins Christian Publishing. Not one but two editors helped me fine-tune this novel! Thank you to Becky Philpott and Karli Jackson! Huge thanks also go out to the amazing Jean Bloom, who somehow manages to locate every discrepancy! Jean’s honesty and humor make working on this book for the fifth, sixth, and seventh time almost enjoyable.
I also owe a debt of gratitude to Lynne, my first reader, as well as my assistant Laurie Smith and my wonderful street team, the Buggy Bunch. Since writing is a very solitary job I’m so grateful for these ladies’ (and men’s) support!
I also owe so much to my own Thomas, my husband Tom. He spent a weekend with me on the shores of Lake Erie and stood by my side as I plotted and chatted with historians about Johnson’s Island. He also very patiently explored the Confederate Officer Cemetery with me, taking pictures of almost every tombstone! Tom also spent many hours with me plotting each hero’s journey. He knew how important they became to me, which says a lot, given that his ancestors fought for the Union while mine fought for the Confederacy.
Finally, I am eternally grateful to God for being with me while I write. He has answered many a prayer while I fussed and worried over these characters. I’m so grateful that even in my basement office, I’m never completely alone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo by The New Studio
SHELLEY SHEPARD GRAY IS A New York Times AND USA Today bestselling author, a finalist for the American Christian Fiction Writers’ prestigious Carol Award, and a two-time HOLT Medallion winner. She lives in southern Ohio, where she writes full time, bakes too much, and can often be
found walking her dachshunds on her town’s bike trail.
She also spends a lot of time online. Please visit her website:
www.shelleyshepardgray.com.
Find her on Facebook at Facebook.com/ShelleyShepardGray.
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