Rocky Mountain Oasis
Page 6
“My leg—” she gestured helplessly—“fell asleep. I’ll be able to move in a second.”
Without hesitation he set her bag on the ground and swept her up into his arms. Her heart lurched as her arms reflexively clasped about his neck.
Carrying her up the steps and across the threshold of the house, he grinned down at her. “I guess this is the way newlyweds should enter their home anyway.”
To cover her fear and confusion she scanned the interior of the little cabin. The single room functioned as kitchen, dining room, living room, and bedroom all in one. To the right of the doorway against the front wall of the house was a small square table with two straight-back chairs at opposite sides, and a window just behind it on the side wall. A cupboard sat on the floor at the rear right corner, its back to the side wall. Above it hung a shelf stacked with several pots and pans, some dishes, and a pile of poorly folded white towels. Pegs drilled into the wall below the shelf held an assortment of utensils and a metal wash basin. On top of the cupboard sat two crocks.
In the middle of the back wall stood a rotund wood stove, a copper kettle on its polished black surface. Behind it, and on the floor underneath, a rock facade of white quartz stones mortared together formed a fire shield. The mantle had been constructed of flat rocks set into the wall horizontally. It’s beautiful, she thought as her eyes continued to scan the room.
To the left of the stove was the room’s only bed. A colorful quilt smoothly spread over it, and there was a window just above it. To the left of the door were a cane chair and a loveseat that looked to have been made from stripped ash. The color of the wood was exquisite, but the chairs didn’t look very comfortable since they had no cushions. The room’s third window graced the wall by the cane chairs, casting a brilliant pool of light on the plank floor.
She finished her perusal of the interior as Sky set her into one of the chairs at the dining table. He sat across from her and began to stack a scattered group of letters. “I want you to make yourself at home here.” He gestured to the cupboard. “There is food in the cupboard as well as in the cellar out back. I will give you a tour of the place as soon as I take care of the stock. If you find that there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. Pierce City is not too far away and we can get some things there, but it may be that I will have to make a trip to Lewiston.” He shrugged, glancing around the room. “It’s not much, I suppose, but I hope you will be comfortable.”
She tried to smile reassuringly. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”
With that he stood, set the bundled stack of letters on the mantle, and went outside. Returning a few moments later, he set her bag inside the door along with another small satchel she had not noticed before. When he went back out to take care of the stock, Brooke realized she hadn’t moved since he had placed her in her chair. Her leg was no longer asleep, so she had no excuse, but she felt dazed. She still couldn’t believe this man had not mistreated her in any way…had not even spoken roughly. Shrugging, she tried to push away these thoughts.
Getting up, she crossed to the cupboard, remembering it was past noon and Sky would probably be hungry; she knew hunger pangs gnawed at her. Finding some bread, butter, and a chunk of dried meat, she made some sandwiches, placing them on two of the speckled, black tin plates.
She was tempted to go ahead and eat without him but decided it would be better to wait. He came in a little while later and eyed the fare hungrily. “Would you like some milk?” he asked.
“Yes, that would be nice. I thought of going to look for the cellar but didn’t know where to start.”
“I’ll be right back. We can eat, and then I will show you around the place. Sound good?”
She nodded, setting two of the tin cups on the table by their plates.
When he had returned with the milk, he sat down and glanced across the table, holding out his hand to her. She eyed his hand and he said, “When I was growing up, we always held hands around the table as we said grace. Do you mind?” His tone was not condescending, merely questioning.
She placed her small hand in his palm and bowed her head, but as he began to pray, she studied him with surprise.
His prayer was not a memorized text but a true communion of the heart with God, giving Him thanks for the food, for Brooke’s safety as she had traveled, and for their future together as husband and wife. He prayed that God would lead them, guiding them closer to Him, and then closed in Jesus’ name.
He picked up his sandwich and had it halfway to his mouth when he evidently noted her surprise.
She wanted to hide her emotion but something held her in check. “Do you really believe God cares?”
“Yes, I do. The Bible says He does.” His eyes showed genuine interest in her question.
“And so if the Bible says it, that makes it so?” Her tone held more than a little sarcasm.
Sky set his sandwich back on his plate. “Yes.” It was a simple statement of faith. “Brooke, I want to talk to you about this morning.”
She had not expected this so soon. Picking up her sandwich, she took a bite. Her past and how it related to her reaction this morning was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Trying to keep her face free of emotion, she chewed slowly.
Sky raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you’ve been through in the past, but I could tell by your reaction to me this morning that it probably hasn’t been pleasant.” He watched her intently.
She took another bite of sandwich, trying to ignore the pain squeezing her heart.
“I just want to tell you again that I would never,” he paused, “will never hit or abuse you in any way. I meant what I said to you last night; I will not touch you until you say it’s okay.” He placed his hands on the table. “I will not touch you in any way. Understand?”
Brooke hated the tears that pooled in her eyes. She nodded mutely, but her skepticism rose to the fore. The probability of his keeping his word is about as good as finding an oasis in the middle of a desert.
He sat back, apparently satisfied, but still eyed her as though unable to tell what she was thinking.
She blinked the tears away and turned back to her food, as did he. Finishing his sandwich in five bites, he got up and made himself two more. Brooke, somewhat wide-eyed, made a note to make him several sandwiches in the future and hoped he wouldn’t be too irritated that she had not done so this time.
Sky watched Brooke as she took in the cellar he’d just shown to her. Cut back into the side of the hill behind the house, it had large heavy doors that kept the room cool on the hottest of summer days and provided enough insulation so that even on very cold winter days the milk did not freeze.
As he waited for her, he contemplated their earlier conversation. “Do you really believe God cares?” she had asked. Lord, I don’t know what this woman has been through in the past, but it’s obviously been painful for her. Help me to be able to show her Your love. Bring her to know You, Lord. And help me to be thankful. Help me to see the good side of things—not just the inconvenient, uncomfortable side. There are things to be thankful for; please open my mind to them. Help me to be sensitive to this woman. To be kind, thoughtful, and caring. Help me to see Your blessings, Lord. Bring us through this difficult time.
He stared off at the surrounding countryside. Things to be thankful for… at least I like her. She could have been loud, pushy, and boisterous, or demure, coy, and deceitful but none of these qualities evidenced themselves. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, a protective spirit had risen in him. She was somehow like a wounded animal he needed to nurture back to health. Her blue-green eyes wore a hunted, fearful look that he wanted to soothe.
His thoughts turned to Jason. I wonder where he is? Thankfulness that he had had the opportunity to talk to his cousin about the Lord welled up in his heart. Jason could have reacted in any number of different ways, but God had worked it out so that Sky could remind him of his past relationship with Jesus. Yes, God is good.
She turned to him with a smile, gesturing to the cellar and the surrounding buildings. “It’s all very lovely. You’ve worked hard to build such a nice place.”
Another thing to be thankful for. She understands that it takes a lot of hard work to make a place like this. He glanced around. “Yes, I have, but it has been enjoyable.” He didn’t add that it might be more enjoyable now that there was someone else with whom to share his accomplishments. “Would you like to see the barn?”
She nodded.
“When I first started this place, I lived in the barn until I had enough logs cut to build the house. I have since converted the room that I stayed in into a tack room.” He walked toward the barn, her soft footsteps following him.
The earthy smell of cut hay, manure, and animal sweat assailed them as they stepped into the dim interior. Sky had always loved the smells of a barn. The aroma brought back many happy memories of days gone by. He chatted easily as he showed her around.
“This is old Bess. She had a calf this last spring. He’s out in the pasture right now. She’d be there herself except she has a sore leg.” The cow peered at them over her back with cinnamon eyes, lowing mournfully, bits of straw hanging out of the corners of her mouth. Sky slapped her on the rump as he passed, continuing his tour. “I keep a couple of steers for plowing and those kinds of things, and a pack mule, but they are all out to pasture. I have a small herd of cattle that I’m slowly building up. I hope to one day quit farming and turn to ranching.” He gestured to the stallion they had ridden up the hill that morning. “Geyser there is the only horse I’ve got. I also hope to be able to get another horse next spring.” His mind went momentarily to the money he had paid to Jason. It had been all of his savings, and he wondered how they would make it through the winter, much less buy a horse come spring, but he said nothing to her, knowing she would feel somehow responsible.
“Geyser?”
Her question brought him back.
He chuckled. “The first time I saw that horse I was down in Lewiston. I was at a roundup and his owner made a bet with all the men standing around that if anyone could ride him, they could have him. If you fell off, you owed five dollars. A couple of them tried it. When that first man hit the saddle and they took the blinders off his eyes, he shot straight up into the air just like a geyser I saw over in Montana one time. That first fellow didn’t last more than two seconds in the saddle, and the second one didn’t do much better. I let a couple more guys go before I gave him a try. I figured he’d be a little tired out by then.” He grinned. “He wasn’t, but I won, and his owner got twenty dollars out of the deal. I can’t think of a name that would fit him better. He’s just like a geyser. You never know when he’s going to erupt.” He grimaced. “He’s thrown me more times than I care to admit. He’s getting a little older now, though, and doesn’t feel his oats so often.”
During this recital Geyser had come to the door of the stall and put his head out. Brooke stood petting his muzzle, one hand resting lightly on his neck. She crooned nonsensical words to the horse, and Sky’s heart contraced at the sight. What was this feeling? He knew he didn’t love this woman. Not yet. But the way his blood pounded through his veins, he knew that if he allowed himself, he could love her. Very easily. At times like this, when he saw her at ease, he realized just how tense she usually was. She always had her guard up, as though on the alert against hurt of any kind. What did her past hold? He only knew that the desire to comfort and protect her grew stronger the more he observed her true spirit.
She glanced around the barn, then up to the loft. A smile played on her lips. “My sister and I used to play in the loft of our barn for hours.” She turned back to the horse, but her eyes had a faraway look and Sky knew she was seeing into the past. “We would dig tunnels in the hay, making passageways and rooms. One time we took Mother’s best silver tea service up there and had a genuine tea party.” Her smile broadened as she turned back to Sky. “We got in trouble for losing the sugar bowl. We never did find it. The last time I remember playing with Jessica we looked for it again.” A sadness washed over her face. “Well,” she made an attempt to brighten her countenance, “is there more to the barn? Maybe I should go in and start dinner.” Her guard rose back into place.
“Not much more. Just let me show you the chicken coop and then you can head in if you want.” He led her to a small door that opened on the side wall of the barn. As they came out on the southern side of the barn the sun shone brightly, reflecting off the water in the trough a few feet away. A lean-to stood against the side of the barn with a wooden ramp leading up to the opening where the chickens went in and out. “Since I don’t have too many chickens, I made the coop small.” He lifted the hinged roof of the structure.
A hen, surprised by the burst of sunlight, launched through the opening, cackling, flapping, and sending feathers flying through the air.
Brooke jumped with a sharp intake of breath, her hand going to her heart.
Sky smiled. “Sorry. You okay?” When she nodded with a chuckle, he continued, “I made the roof hinged so it would be easy to collect the eggs. All the roosts are on top, so all you have to do is reach down in and gather them.” She came closer and peered inside the coop, then looked up at him.
“Thank you for showing me around. I think I’ll head in and fix dinner now.”
“That’s fine. I have a couple of chores to finish, and then I’ll be right in.”
As Brooke gathered dinner ingredients she couldn’t seem to keep her mind off the double bed in the corner. He had said he wouldn’t touch her, but there was only one bed. Fear crept back into her soul. He had been kind and courteous all the time she’d known him, but experience had taught her that men were explosive, choosing to do whatever they wanted, often on the spur of the moment’s whim.
Nervousness made her fidgety, and she jumped when the door clicked open. If Sky noticed, he did not let on but went straight to the wash basin and cleaned up as she placed dinner on the table. Thankfully Darcy, Uncle Jackson’s cook, had taught her to prepare several different dishes. Tonight she had relied on an easy favorite—beef stew with potatoes and carrots. Hot biscuits with butter and honey also graced the table.
“Do…do you prefer coffee with dinner or m-milk or…water?” Brooke stammered.
He dried his hands on the towel, watching her as though he knew something was bothering her. “Coffee is fine.” He nodded at the pot and took his chair, his back to the main part of the room.
She moved to the stove, picked up the coffee pot, and let out a yelp of pain. Reflexively, she let go of the searing handle, spilling the contents all over the stove and floor.
Sky was at her side in an instant. “Here, let me see that.”
He took her hand into his, examining her palm and adding to the turmoil already churning in her heart. Her pulse began to race at the tender touch of his hand. Averting her eyes from his expression of concern, she focused on the droplets of coffee that sizzled and danced across the stovetop, sending steam wafting through the air. On the stone firebreak. On the patchwork quilt covering the bed. On anything to get her mind off the way his touch curled her stomach and increased her breathing. A floorboard creaked under their feet, and somewhere outside an owl sent a lonely call into the night.
Only a split second had passed, but she couldn’t stand his closeness any longer. Snatching her hand away, she rubbed it down the side of her skirt. “I’m okay, really. I’ll clean up this mess,” she gestured to the spilled coffee, “and put on another pot. You go ahead and eat while the food is hot.”
He shook his head, leading her to her chair and gently pushing her into it. “Don’t
move,” he commanded as he headed out the door. “I’m going to get a bucket of cold water.”
Brooke felt a surge of irritation. Who is he to tell me what to do? She got up the instant he was out of sight and, crossing the few steps to the stove, began to clean up the mess. Mopping up the coffee, she wrung it out into a bowl, her burnt hand stinging unmercifully every time the warm coffee soaked through the towel and touched the seared flesh. But she kept on, willing herself to forget the sensations his touch had sent coursing through her.
Only when she heard Sky come back in the door did she pause to consider what her impetuous actions might cost her. She had just cleaned up the last of the mess and was down on her hands and knees wiping up the floor when Sky spoke from behind her.
“I told you not to move.”
She tensed, half expecting a blow, but then realized that his voice had been gentle.
He took her elbow to lead her back to her chair.
Embarrassment at her own carelessness and anger with herself for allowing the feelings this man evoked sparked her temper. She jerked her elbow from his grasp. “Someone had to clean this up—” she gestured emphatically to the stove and floor, “—before it soaked into everything and made stains that wouldn’t come out!”
When the surprise on his face registered, she felt chagrined. She walked back to her seat and sat down.
Coming over beside her, he set a small bucket on the table. She obediently put her stinging hand in the cool water, watching as he set about making a second pot of coffee. When he sat back down, she said, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
A twinkle lit his eyes. “Think nothing of it, Mrs. Jordan. I’m sure there will be plenty of times in the future when I will need to be put in my place. That temper of yours might come in handy.”
Plenty of times in the future? Suddenly the morrow seemed to stretch out for eternity. Could she live with this emotional stress for the rest of her life?
He ladled stew into both of their bowls and they ate in silence, the only sounds in the room the metallic tink of silverware on tin bowls and the perking of the coffee. When she finished eating she removed her burnt hand from the water, finding that it felt much better.