by Linda Ford
He chuckled. “So, what did your father say when he learned the truth?”
“He said Glory was the perfect name and the perfect place.” She shifted her attention past him. “He told you about our brother, Josh?”
Walker nodded. “I hope your family is able to locate him.”
“What Pa didn’t say is Josh is the only child born to them. The rest of us are adopted.”
“Rest of you? How many are there?”
She grinned, obviously enjoying his interest. Donny moved along the edge of the water, and Walker and Josie followed.
“There are six of us adopted girls.”
His eyes widened. Pleasure at her delighted laughter warmed his heart. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed spending time in a young lady’s company. “That would explain all the other chairs at the table.”
“That, and Ma’s habit of inviting others to join us for Sunday dinner.” She pulled her mouth into a frown. “Mostly young cowboys.”
“Such as me?”
“I guess.”
“You don’t look very happy about it.”
“I don’t mind them visiting. I just don’t care to be courted.”
“Seems I heard something to that effect before.”
“You overheard me at the church.” She watched Donny dragging a branch to the water’s edge.
“So where are all these sisters?” Walker asked.
“Two of them stayed back in Ohio when we moved here. Three of them married cowboys since we arrived.”
“Ouch.”
She turned to him. “Why ouch?”
“I think it must be hard for you to see them marry cowboys, considering your opinion of that breed of man.”
The skin around her eyes crinkled, and a smile teased her mouth. “Not at all. My sisters are very happy, and that’s all that matters. Besides, every one of those cowboys had a home to give them.”
“Home is very important to you then?”
“You could say that.”
He waited, wanting her to go on. When she didn’t, he prodded. “Does that mean you were homeless at one time?” That would explain it.
She took in a long, slow breath then faced him. “I joined the Kinsley family when I was twelve. Prior to that, I did not know if I would have a place to lay my head at night.”
“No child should live with that sort of fear.” He held her gaze, offering sympathy and understanding. “In a very small way I can appreciate what you went through. I lost my home when my uncle and Pa sold the ranch. I was angry at both of them for a long time.”
“I can understand why you would be. Are you still?” Her gaze bored into his, seeking answers, wanting to understand.
“My ma told me carrying unforgiveness toward my father was wrong. That I should honor him. She said I needed to forgive him. I realized she was right when I found myself being eaten away by anger and bitterness. One day I simply told him I forgave him for his part in the loss of the ranch.”
“That must have been hard.”
“My pride stood in the way, but once I’d said the words and meant them, I felt almost free.”
“Are you going to tell your uncle the same thing?”
He jerked back, her words like a blow. “I’m only finding him because of my promise to Ma.”
Her look searched deeply, probing into his thoughts. “I know forgiveness isn’t always possible.”
He wanted to deny her statement, but he had no idea what she was talking about. Was she suggesting he needed to forgive his uncle, or was it something she needed to forgive? However, there was one truth he knew without question. “There is nothing God doesn’t forgive.”
Her attention had returned to Donny. “I have no trouble believing in God’s forgiveness.”
“Human forgiveness is a different matter?”
“A much different matter, wouldn’t you say?”
He thought of Dianne. “I courted a gal once. She had plans for us that didn’t suit me. She said she wanted a man with ambition. One who wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary to get ahead.”
“Ouch.”
He grinned. “Yeah, it hurt.”
“Did you forgive her?”
They studied each other intently. Her question made him realize something, and he slowly smiled. “What I did was easier. I walked away.” His smile flattened. “Avoiding her was somewhat harder, as I couldn’t leave town with my mother ill and needing me. I suppose I should thank her for being the instrument of my learning a valuable lesson.”
Josie cocked her head. “And that would be?”
“Avoid women whose prime interest in me is money and possessions.”
She jerked away. Then chuckled. “I’d say you were safe enough in that regard.”
It took him a moment to realize she referred to his penniless state, and he laughed. “You’re right. Any woman who expresses an interest in me will have to be prepared to have nothing.”
Seeing as it was clear that they would never be romantically interested in each other, he relaxed. It might be nice to have a friend for however much time he was here, without any complicated feelings getting in the way.
Donny headed toward them, his hands cupped around something. “Look what I found.” He held out his hands for Walker and Josie to see.
A salamander.
Walker hid a grin at the difference in expression between Donny—who was thrilled with his find—and Miss Josie—who wore a look of horror.
Josie backed away from Donny and shuddered. “It’s slimy.” She didn’t care for any sort of reptile. They were all in the same category as snakes.
Walker squatted before the boy. “He’s a nice one.”
“Can I take him back with us?” Donny asked.
Josie shuddered again.
Walker grinned at her before he turned to Donny. “You might be taking him away from his home. Do you want to do that?” He waited, as if giving the boy time to consider his choice.
Josie watched Walker. He was good with Donny. And no doubt, good for him too. Donny liked the attention of Josie’s brothers-in-law, but he only saw them on Sunday, and only if they were able to journey to town for church.
“Maybe I should leave him so he can find his way home.” Donny set the salamander on the ground. The reptile didn’t move. “He’s not going.”
Walker stood, his hand on Donny’s shoulder. “I think he’s afraid we might follow him. Come on, let’s leave him alone.”
The pair backed away.
Donny looked up at Walker. “You think he’ll be here tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t think so.”
Donny shrugged and ran ahead of them.
Walker and Josie fell into step as they followed him. “If that critter has any sense, he sure won’t be hanging about for a little boy to find him.”
She laughed and turned to him as they shared the joke. His eyes flashed blue. She blinked and looked away. “We should get him home and into bed.”
“Does he share the room with his mother and sister?”
“He does. He’s very protective of them. I never have to remind him to slip in quietly. They’ve had quite an experience. My sister, Flora, and her husband, Kade, found them in the dead of winter in their little farmhouse. No heat. No food. Stella barely alive. Little Blossom only a little better. Can you imagine the fears poor Donny endured?”
“I’m happy to say I can’t imagine, though perhaps you can to a better degree.”
Her feet slowed. “At least he had his mother and her love.” As soon as she spoke the words, she wished she had kept them locked up inside.
But rather than demand an explanation, Walker smiled. “There’s something about a mother’s love to compel a boy to do all sorts of good and noble things.”
Her insides eased with his words. “You’re referring to your mother.”
“I am.” His smile was warm with memories.
“I don’t recall my birth mother, but Ma Kinsley has given me free, unfettered love,
and I consider myself most fortunate.”
“How long have you been with the Kinsleys?”
“Seven years now. And I have to say they are the best seven years of my life.”
“I guess that makes you nineteen.”
“I guess it does.”
Walker had drawn to a halt. “Let me get this straight. You don’t remember your mother, so I’m assuming she died when you were very young. You came to the Kinsleys when you were twelve. Were you with your father in those intervening years?”
“My parents died within days of each other. Some sort of illness. I don’t know what it was, as I was too young to remember.”
“How old were you?”
She would normally object to his probing questions, but the knowledge that he too had lost his parents and had an uncle he didn’t seem to care for had, in her mind, formed an invisible bond between them. One that he no doubt was unaware of. “I was five. About Donny’s age.”
“From what you said, I’ll assume you didn’t go to an orphanage.”
“I might have been better off if I had, but no, my uncle took me. He didn’t exactly take care of me, but he was my guardian.”
They had stopped walking although she was aware of Donny playing nearby. Walker looked deep into her eyes. “It seems we both have uncles who disappointed us,” she said.
“It seems so.” His acknowledging look brushed a tender spot inside her.
From the way he smiled, she guessed he was aware of something tenuous between them formed by the knowledge they shared about their uncles.
They reached the house, and Donny slipped in quietly to go to the bedroom he shared with his mother and sister.
The setting sun slanted through the church windows, allowing Josie to see Pa kneeling at a bench inside the sanctuary. She stood still, taking in the scene, finding joy and strength in the life she’d been granted. “They taught me about God and His love. They showed it to me in every way. They gave me a home and security.”
“You have been blessed.” Walker’s reverent tone touched her.
“Yes, I have.”
“I have been too, to end up here when I did.” He touched the bruise on his head. “The scoundrel who robbed me expected me to die out there.”
“Thankfully, you didn’t.”
“As your pa said, God had other plans.”
She smiled at him. “Pa’s a firm believer in seeing God’s guidance in everything that comes our way.”
“Even a penniless, homeless cowboy?”
Their looks went on for several seconds as she considered his question and how to answer it. “I’m quite certain that God has plans for you.” She thought of a verse Ma had the girls memorize. “The Bible says, ‘For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.’ Ma and Pa say God’s thoughts are His plans.”
“I like the idea of peace, but what does ‘expected end’ mean?”
They leaned against the unfinished building. It seemed neither of them was ready to end the evening.
“I think it would refer to all the good things God has promised. It’s like He’s saying, ‘Trust Me. I want your best. Remember My promises.’”
“I like that. It reminds me of Ma’s favorite verse. ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.’”
“They do go together, don’t they?” When had she ever talked so freely about her faith to anyone outside her family? She felt as if she and Walker shared something unique. It made her look at him with new eyes. A penniless cowboy with a deep faith.
It was a nice feeling. But not one that could unsettle her plans. She knew what she needed and wanted in life—the ability to provide for her own needs and to never feel she must depend on someone else.
She pushed away from the wall. “I must say good night.”
“Good night.”
She hurried inside and up the stairs to the room she’d once shared with three sisters. Now she was alone and, for the first time, was grateful for that fact, as she was restless and couldn’t settle. As she frequently did when she didn’t feel ready to go to bed, she sat on a chair next to the window and picked up her latest sewing project. She often sewed for her sisters and mother and occasionally for other ladies. Her projects were often done at cost or less because of the circumstances of the women she made a garment for. But she wanted to get some good paying customers. She was creating a dress for herself that had all sorts of special touches. She had talked to Mr. White at White’s store. He had suggested she hang a small poster by the yard goods, offering her services as a seamstress. If anyone inquired, Josie wanted the person to see a garment she had made. Once it was finished, she would wear this dress to church and every special occasion there was.
She glanced out the window to the partially finished addition. She’d barely gotten used to the idea of more rooms, and now someone was sleeping there. Her thoughts went over the conversation she’d had with Walker.
The verse he’d mentioned had long been her nemesis. How could all things work together for her good? Life with her uncle especially. Yet, she couldn’t deny that joining the Kinsley family was a blessing.
Content with her lot in life, she smiled as she pictured Walker and Donny with the salamander. And the things he’d said about the value of his mother’s love.
She chuckled as she recalled his words about avoiding a woman who wanted only his financial position. She didn’t fit that category, because she intended to provide for herself.
And there was absolutely no danger that any woman would pursue him for what he owned.
Chapter 4
After a hearty breakfast the next day—Walker wondered if he would ever fill the hunger of going without food for five days—he accompanied the preacher to the addition.
“I’d like to get this partition wall done as soon as possible,” Preacher Kinsley said. “I feel an urgency to provide more rooms. But then maybe it’s more important to finish the shingling before we get rain.” As he talked, he lifted boards to the wall, and Walker nailed his ends into place.
Walker had studied the layout of the building. “Looks like you hope to gain four rooms.”
“That’s right. A service room where the ladies can do laundry in the wintertime and provide extra storage, and then three bedrooms that can accommodate three in each room. Nothing fancy, mind you. Just a shelter from the elements, warmth, and good food. Josie and my wife will see to the latter.” The preacher paused. “That Josie is a good cook. She says she never gets tired of preparing food.”
Walker tucked that little bit of information in with the rest of the things he’d learned about the young lady. Was her love of preparing food a result of not having enough? But had she said that, or was he assuming it went along with not knowing where she would spend the night?
By midmorning, he and the preacher had completed the partition, giving Walker a complete room. “This curtain is fine for now.” He’d hang the door later.
“Good. Then let’s finish the shingles.”
Walker followed the man from the building into the bright sunshine. He blinked as he almost bumped into Josie, who was carrying a basket of garden produce. “Whoops. Wouldn’t want to spill that basket. Are you the gardener?”
Her laugh echoed the sound of the birds in the nearby tree. “Right now, I’m the cook, gardener, wash lady, and everything else. Not that I mind. I find work very satisfying.” She continued on to the house.
Her pa watched her. “Josie is a good worker. Maybe too good.”
“Too good? Is that possible?”
“I fear it might be in her case. I get the feeling she is trying to pay a debt she doesn’t owe.”
Walker mused on that as he carried a bundle of shakes up the ladder. He knelt at one side of the roof, the preacher at the other, and they lay a row of shakes and tacked them in place. Walker could see it would ta
ke most of the day to finish one side of the roof. He glanced at the sky. No sign of rain. Hopefully the weather would hold until it was done.
Donny poked his head over the edge of the roof. “Aunt Josie said to tell you dinner is ready.”
Walker glanced at the preacher to see how he’d react to the boy at the top of the ladder.
The man’s expression went from worried to careful in a flash. “Donny, back down the ladder. Slowly. Didn’t I tell you to stay off it?”
“Aunt Josie said to call you.” The boy’s chin took on a stubborn jut.
“Thank you, and I appreciate it. Next time call from the ground. Okay?”
Walker and the preacher made their way to the ladder. Donny scampered down, sending Walker’s heart into a frantic race. “Preacher, I don’t mind saying that was nerve-wracking.”
“The boy needs to be kept busy, but I’ve failed to do it. And by the way, I’d be pleased if you’d call me Jacob.”
“Done.” Sure made it easier than calling him preacher all the time. He waited as the older man descended, then followed him, dusting off his too-short pants. If he had some money, he would find a store and buy some new clothes, but he didn’t have a penny to his name. He was taller than Jacob, so it wouldn’t do him any good to borrow clothes from the man. What difference did it make? He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He’d scrub his own clothes as soon as he could. It would be good to don them again.
He and Jacob washed in a basin of warm water outside the door then entered the kitchen where a dozen succulent scents greeted him. He'd been increasingly aware of them throughout the morning. A platter of fried pork and a bowl of spicy-smelling applesauce sat in the middle of the table. Josie carried a large bowl of mashed potatoes over then returned to the stove to fill a pitcher with brown gravy and pour fresh-from-the-garden peas into a serving dish.
Walker couldn’t keep back his appreciation. “What a wonderful feast.”
Josie chuckled. “Speaks a man who went five days without food. I expect most anything would look good.”
“Most anything wouldn’t look as good or smell as good as this.” He looked toward Josie. “You are an excellent cook.”