As she carried the basket toward the door, she paused to whisper in Sabrina’s ear. “Help your mother. She is tired and should rest.”
The girl nodded, and Emily continued outside.
The Stanley Basin was blessed that day with the warm breath of Indian summer. A gentle breeze stirred the trees and grass, bringing with it the sweet scent of pine. Aspens applauded with leaves turned gold by cooling nights.
Emily paused for a moment to take in the beauty that surrounded her, and familiar words bubbled up from her heart, demanding to be spoken aloud. “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.”
She smiled. How good to know that God watched over her, even in this remote valley. How good to know he didn’t slumber, even in the darkest hours of night.
Drawing a deep breath, she moved toward the clothesline that was stretched between two trees and supported in the middle with a wooden prop. She set the basket on the ground, then placed her hands on the small of her spine and bent backward. When she straightened, she found Gavin leaning against the corner of the cabin, watching her.
“Not as much fun as a fancy dress ball, is it?” He pushed off from the house and walked toward her.
She turned away and grabbed the shirt on top of the basket of clothes. “I told you before that I’m not afraid of hard work.”
“I can see that.”
His tone caused her to look at him again. Was that an apology of sorts? She couldn’t be sure. And what did it matter, even if it was?
Only it did matter. She wanted him to think better of her.
She gave the shirt in her hands a good shake, wanting to slough off thoughts of Gavin Blake at the same time, then held it against the clothesline and slipped the split wood pin over one sleeve. As she reached to fasten the other sleeve in place, the pin dropped into the thick grass at her feet.
Without a word, he leaned down, picked up the clothespin, and held it out to her.
“Thank you.” She closed her fingers around it, feeling suddenly clumsy beneath his gaze.
He didn’t release the clothespin immediately, and after a moment she was forced to look at him a third time. His hard, searching gaze made her feel like a bug under a microscope. How she wished he would go study someone else for a while and leave her in peace.
“Thank you,” she said again.
He let go at last. “You’re welcome, Miss Harris. And just so you’ll know, I’m grateful for the help you’re giving Dru.” With a tip of his head, he turned and walked away.
It took several seconds more before Emily could breathe easily again.
Twilight had settled over the basin, bringing with it a bank of clouds in the west.
“Looks like we’re in for some rain.” Gavin turned from the window. “You girls better get your animals in the barn fed.”
“Okay, Pa.” Sabrina set aside the square of embroidery fabric. “Come on, Pet.”
“Put on your jackets,” Dru said before the girls reached the door.
Gavin sat on a chair near the fireplace. “Where’s Miss Harris?”
“Lying down. She’s exhausted after all she did today.” Dru leveled a reproachful gaze on him. “It’s your fault, you know. She’s trying to prove she can do everything because you don’t think she can do anything.”
“Wait a minute. I never said — ”
“Don’t argue with me. You know it’s true. I didn’t hire her to clean house or wash clothes. I want her to teach the children, to get them to trust and care for her so that when I . . . when I’m not here, they’ll have a woman they can turn to. They’ll need her. More than you know.”
His jaw tightened. Despite his words of thanks today, he didn’t think Emily Harris would last a month, let alone stay around after Dru passed on.
“It’s not like you to be unfair, Gavin.”
Unfair? He hadn’t been unfair. Had he? Well, maybe he had. She might prove him wrong. There could be more to her than he’d first thought.
He pictured her as he’d seen her earlier. There she’d stood by the clothesline in that yellow dress — fitted bodice and flounced skirt — her hair hidden beneath a matching scarf. She’d looked like a wilting sunflower. Her face had been flushed, damp wisps of hair clinging to her nape. Her hands had looked like the hands of a rancher’s wife, red and rough.
“All right, Dru. Maybe I haven’t been fair.”
He turned his gaze on the fire, wishing he’d never let his wife talk him into hiring a governess. Especially not Emily Harris. Bitter experience had taught him not to trust a beautiful woman just because she did one good deed. And whatever else Emily was, she was first of all beautiful.
Gavin would be wise to remain on guard.
Seven
Dru closed the cabin door behind her and walked to the center of the yard, pulling the shawl close across her chest. The air was still. Nothing stirred. All was quiet. Overhead, stars winked down upon the earth, but she wouldn’t be able to see them for long. A storm was coming. She could feel it. She could smell the rain. Soon the wind would rise and clouds would roil across the sky.
If only the storm would blow away her cancer. If only the number of times she would see these storms had not been cut short. If only she could live long enough to see her daughters grown and settled and happy.
If only this cup could pass.
But heaven called to her too. No more sorrow. No more sighing. No more pain. Charlie was there, waiting for her, and she would at long last see the Savior face to face. She would no longer be an alien in a strange land. She would be in her true home, her eternal home.
Father God, Brina and Pet need someone in their lives who loves you. Emily knows you, Lord. Perhaps she can do what I haven’t been able to do. Perhaps she can help Gavin discover your saving grace.
Two tears moved slowly down her cheeks.
I don’t want to leave them. Why must I leave them?
In the distance, she saw a flash of light, followed by the low rumble of thunder. It wouldn’t be long now. A breeze caressed Dru’s damp cheeks and tugged at the hem of her nightgown.
Rest, her heart seemed to say. Rest and trust. Fear not.
She drew in a shuddery breath.
Yes, Lord. I will trust in you. I will rest. Therefore I will not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.
Gavin opened his eyes, his body alert. The room he shared with Dru was dark, but he sensed his wife’s bed was empty. As he sat up, he reached for his trousers and slipped into them, then pulled on his boots. A few quick steps across the bedroom and he was opening the door. A faint glimmer of light from the red coals in the hearth revealed the front door ajar. He moved toward it, his concern growing.
Outside he was met with a flash of lightning that lit up the sky, followed seconds later by a crack of thunder, splitting the silence. Before the sound faded, the heavens sparked again and then again.
Dru stood in the yard between the house and barn. A dark shawl was draped over her narrow frame, so slight it seemed a breeze could blow her away. As if in response to his observation, the wind rose, billowing the white fabric of her nightgown.
He moved toward her. “Dru?”
She didn’t turn. “I felt the storm coming.” Her voice was soft, barely audible above the peals of thunder. “The air was so still when I awoke. Thick, like you could cut it with a knife. I wanted to see it for myself.”
He stopped beside her, almost put his arm around her shoulders, then didn’t. Something told him she didn’t wish to be held.
“I’ll miss these storms.” She turned her head, her face spotlighted by another flash of lightning. “I yearn for heaven, but I’ll miss all I’ve loved on earth.”
His chest grew tight. He hated it when she spoke about dying this way.
“I’ll be with Charl
ie in heaven. With Charlie and our baby son who never got to take his first breath. They’re waiting for me now.” She was silent a moment, then added, “There won’t be any tears or sorrow or sighing where I’m going. Do you know that’s true?”
No, he didn’t know. He’d tried to believe, but he couldn’t find it in him.
The wind increased. Dru’s hair whipped about her face while black clouds, turned silver by the lightning, rolled overhead.
“It wasn’t right to ask you to marry me, Gavin. You should have had a chance to find the kind of love Charlie and I shared. If it weren’t for my girls . . .” She let her words trail into silence.
“I wanted to do it. I’ll do my best by Brina and Pet. They’ll never want for anything. I’ll tell them what a fine woman their mother was, and they’ll never have cause to doubt it. Not ever.”
“Loving God and loving others are the only things that make sense in this world, Gavin. It’s what we’re made for, to love and be loved.” She turned toward him. “If you let him, God can heal that broken heart of yours. If you let him heal you, you could find a woman to love.”
His gut tightened. “I care about you, Dru.”
She placed her hand on his forearm. “I know you care.” Her voice was softer now, her look pleading. “You care because I was Charlie’s wife and we were a family. You care for me as you would a sister if you’d had one. But that’s not the kind of love I mean, Gavin. You deserve more.”
“I like things the way they are.”
Dru leaned her head against his chest, whispering, “No you don’t. You only think you do.”
Emily was awakened by Joker’s scratching at her door. The moment she opened it, the young wolfhound leapt onto her bed and burrowed his head under the covers. She would have joined him but for the flash of lightning that revealed the open front door. She rushed across the room to close it against the storm.
And there they were, standing in the middle of the yard, Dru’s head resting against Gavin’s chest, his arm around her back as he stared up at the sky. Poignant, powerful, the scene caught at Emily’s throat and made her heart ache. Her eyes burned as an unbearable weight threatened to crush her chest.
She returned to her room and lay on the bed, pulling the covers up beneath her chin. Loneliness rolled over her in waves, punctuated by the flashes of light and cracks of thunder. It was a feeling as severe as it was unexpected.
She envisioned them again — Gavin and Dru, standing together, united against the elements — and she wondered what it must be like to have that kind of bond with a man. The image in her mind changed, and it was she who stood beneath the crashing heavens. It was she who felt the hardness of a man’s chest beneath her cheek, who heard the steady beating of his heart. It was she who knew that he loved her and would take care of her.
In her mind, she looked up at her husband’s face. Into Gavin’s face —
No! She couldn’t imagine such a thing. Not about Gavin Blake, of all men. Why, she didn’t even like him much. And he was married to Dru. What on earth was wrong with her, to let her imagination run so wild?
“Go away,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes closed.
Joker whined and inched his way up until his muzzle was near her face. Emily pressed her forehead against his ear.
“Please go away.”
But she didn’t mean the dog.
Dru listened to her husband’s steady breathing and knew he slept at last. She turned her head on her pillow to gaze in the direction of Gavin’s cot, even though she couldn’t see him in the darkness.
She had known him for over five years now. Much more than a friend, he’d been an important part of the Porter family. Charlie and Gavin had been like brothers. When things had been at their blackest after Charlie died, he’d been there to support and comfort her. He’d been her rock when she learned of her cancer, and he’d married her when she asked him so that her daughters would have a home when she was gone. Other than Charlie, she knew no better man than Gavin Blake.
And yet much of his past remained a mystery to her. What little she knew, she’d pried out of Stubs. It was the ranch foreman who’d told her that Gavin’s mother had deserted her husband and son when Gavin was a boy. There was more that Stubs hadn’t told her, and Dru knew whatever had gone unspoken was even worse than what had been said. There was a world of hurt inside the man Gavin had become. His distrust of women ran deep. And yet there was a great capacity to love inside that wounded heart of his. Look at how he was with Sabrina and Petula.
Her thoughts strayed to the bedroom next door where Emily Harris slept. With all her heart, she hoped she’d rightly discerned the Lord’s voice. There was no time left to allow for mistakes.
Dru rolled onto her side and hugged the pillow to her breast as she pictured Emily in her mind. She was more than pretty. She was young, strong, and determined, kind-hearted and bright. She had faith in God, and a lot of love to give to those around her. All this Dru had perceived as she’d listened to Emily in that hotel room in Boise City. The days that followed had only served to confirm her first impressions.
Lord, if it be your will, help them learn to love each other. Give my girls a home with a mother and father who will cherish each other.
A lump welled in her throat, and her tears dampened her pillow.
And Lord, please let me love my girls awhile longer.
Emily awakened after a long restless night filled with disturbing dreams. Wearily, she pushed aside the blankets and rose from the bed. The previous night’s thunderstorm had been followed by a drenching rain, and the air in her room felt chill and damp. She shivered as she hurried toward the makeshift dresser, wasting no time selecting what to wear. The first dress her hand touched would be good enough.
Tying her hair at the nape with a narrow scarf, she slipped from her bedroom and out the front door, hoping the cool morning air would clear her troubled thoughts. Dawn had painted the lingering clouds the color of grapes, poppies, and dandelions. Moisture, crystallized by the crisp morning air, sparkled from every tree limb and fence pole. The horses in the corral huddled together, their heads drooping toward the ground, their breath forming white clouds beneath their muzzles.
Emily wrapped her arms around her middle as she hurried toward the barn, her teeth chattering with cold. She paused as the door closed behind her and drew a deep breath. There. That was better. The quick walk across the yard had helped.
“Morning, Miss Harris.”
She gasped in surprise.
Gavin stood inside a stall, looking at her over the top rail. “You’re up mighty early.” He opened the gate and stepped out.
“I . . . I wanted to see Sabrina’s calf.”
He wore a dubious expression. “I had no idea you were so fond of the little guy.”
She felt a blush rising into her cheeks and hated herself for it. “Sabrina’s fond of him, and anything that interests the children interests me.” She moved toward the stall that held the calf, head high, eyes avoiding his.
“I believe you mean that, Miss Harris,” Gavin said as he joined her.
“I do mean it or I wouldn’t have taken this job.” She risked looking at him then, daring him to disagree with her.
He didn’t. “You must be cold. You’d better get back to the house.”
“I’m fine. It’s not cold in the barn.”
“Go back to the house, Miss Harris,” he said in a low voice. “It’s colder out here than you think.”
She recalled the moment she’d imagined herself in his arms and felt a frisson of dread run through her. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m afraid you’re right. I’ll go.”
She forced her feet to walk slowly, but in her heart she fled.
October 3, 1883
My dearest Maggie,
I’m sorry it has taken me so long to put pen to paper, but I have been very busy since arriving in this valley. Without the slightest danger of overstatement, I can say that this is the most beautiful plac
e I have ever seen. The mountains cut a jagged swath against the sky, trees and rocks and even some glaciers in the highest peaks. Although the days are pleasant, the nights are already cold.
The journey to this summer range took a week. It reminded me of the months we spent on the Oregon Trail, sleeping under the stars, cooking over a campfire. I confess I was heartily glad to spend a night in a real bed once we reached the basin, but those days on the trail were a perfect time to get to know my employers better.
Mrs. Blake is warm and easy to like. She isn’t a strong woman. Whatever her illness is, it has sapped her energy. But there is life in her eyes, and when she talks about her daughters, joy can be seen on her face. Rather like you and your children, Maggie dear.
Mr. Blake, I’m sorry to say, is nothing like his wife. He doesn’t approve of me at all, and despite my assertion that I am up to the task, he believes I will fail and want to return to Boise. With me he is rather taciturn, but when he is with the children or caring for his wife, I see a totally different person.At those times he can be likeable.
I cannot imagine anyone not loving my young charges.Sabrina is nine and Petula is five. They are so bright and cheerful. Upon our arrival I was introduced to Sabrina’s calf as well as to the new litter of kittens in the loft of the barn.Yes, Maggie, I actually climbed the ladder to the loft. I do not exaggerate when I say I was terrified, although I would not show it for all the world. Not with Mr. Blake watching me.
The Blakes own several wolfhounds, the youngest of which has decided to become my close companion. Joker is almost as big as a small pony, but I’m told he is still a pup, which explains his clumsiness as well as his total lack of manners.
Mr. Blake and the ranch hands are going to drive the cattle up to the main ranch soon, and the family will leave in a couple more weeks. I will send this letter with the men when they go so that it can be posted from Challis. Mrs. Blake is reluctant to leave. Every time it is mentioned, I see the sadness in her eyes. And now that I’ve been here a few days, I suppose I can understand.
Robin Lee Hatcher Page 5