She pulled away from Eva’s embrace and looked up at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Isaac isn’t back yet.”
A bitter chuckle made Sybil snort. “Yet? Ha! He isn’t coming back. No one moves back to Falls Creek once they leave. You just said so yourself.”
“Isaac is the best thing that’s happened to this place since,” her lovey-dovey smile returned, “well, since Solo. Don’t give up on Isaac.”
She could learn to live without the hope of her family’s return, but she could not replace that failed dream with hope for Isaac. “It hurts too much to live hoping for something that will never happen. Scripture says, ‘Hope deferred makes the heart sick.’ I spent a decade doing that for Revel and Mother and James. I can’t do it for another decade over Isaac.”
Another round of laughter roared from the dining hall. Eva carried the water pitcher toward the doorway. “I didn’t say to hold out for a decade. But don’t give up on him so quickly either.”
Sybil sipped from her water cup, trying to make herself stop crying. She had a long night of work to do yet and still needed to eat. She silently prayed that God would help her let go of her impossible dreams.
Maybe Philip had been right that she had clung to Isaac because he made her feel safe after she was attacked. Feeling lonely had opened her eyes to her longing for family. She had thought it was her family she longed for, and then the family she hoped to make with Isaac someday. Since it was pointless to hold on to those dreams, she had only two options to consider. She could accept Philip’s proposal or learn to be content by herself.
Philip had proven to be wise and kind and would no doubt be good company, but the thought of being with someone simply to avoid being alone did not settle well in her soul. She deserved more and so did he.
So, he might not have been right in suggesting marriage as a remedy for her loneliness, but he was right when he suggested she acknowledge her fear and accept the comforts God had already given her.
Laughter and voices continued to flow from the dining hall. She looked down at her favorite dish, steam rising from the dumplings, and thanked God for what He’d given her: this place, her sister, and the food on her plate. She relaxed in the chair and enjoyed her dinner.
As she swallowed the last bite, Eva breezed back into the kitchen and set a stack of dirty dishes by the sink. “Fun crowd in there.”
Sybil met her at the sink. “Are you going to set up the games after dinner?”
Eva raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to hide in here again tonight?”
“No.” She smiled at her sister. “I’m done hiding. I’ll be out there as soon as I finish my chores.”
“In that case,” Eva said as she slung a dish towel over her shoulder, “I’ll get some of the ladies to come help you.”
* * *
The last glow of daylight slipped from the sky as Isaac crested the final hill before reaching Falls Creek. His tired arms were sore but ready to embrace Sybil. The inn’s white clapboard gleamed like a beacon against the deep blue of the darkening sky. The gas lamps on its porch glowed, welcoming all who traveled the long road that wound from the warm northern tip of the Land to the still-chilly southern coast.
Hopefully, the family inside the inn would be as welcoming of him, one person in particular. Sybil had turned her back to him when he’d told her he had to leave, even though he’d promised to return. And when he tried harder to explain, she grew colder.
He might not have the best education, but he knew enough to figure her out. She had missed too many people she loved for too long. She’d spent years waiting for others to come back and was putting all that frustration on him.
There was nothing he could do to change her mind or her past. But maybe if she loved him as much as he hoped she did, his return would prove he kept his promises. He always had and always would.
His horse slowed her gait as he rode down the hill and toward the distant inn. He gave her mane a few slow strokes. “Don’t worry, Chloe. Even if Sybil is still upset with me, you’ll get plenty of oats. And I will too. Not from your bucket, of course. I’ll have something much better.”
His empty stomach rumbled in anticipation of whatever Sybil might have cooked or roasted or baked today. He checked his grandfather’s broken pocket watch out of an old habit. The hour hand was still stuck over the minute hand. He gave the sky a quick glance to answer his question. “It’s about half past eight. She would’ve cleared dinner by now, but there will be leftovers in the cellar.”
Chloe shorted at him, as if enjoying the conversation.
He chuckled at her. “Don’t think I won’t raid the cellar. I’m hungry enough to clean out whatever she’s got left.”
As he rode toward the stable block, the rising moon gave enough light for him to scan the yard and other buildings on the inn’s property. Three wagons were lined up beside the barn, but there was no one in sight. If Eddie was still here—which he would be—he had probably already finished the evening barn chores. Smoke streamed from the laundry house’s chimney, so someone was warming water for either laundry or a bath. Light spilled out of the bunkhouse and also Leonard’s cottage. There were plenty of people on the property tonight, just none outside.
He swung down from the saddle in front of the stable block’s arched entryway and glanced at the back of the inn. All the wall lanterns burned brightly in the dining hall, lighting the dozen or so people sitting around a long table, probably playing cards. He couldn’t see faces from where he was, but he hoped one of them was Sybil. She deserved to be happy.
As he rolled the stable block’s door open, the sharp scent of smoke put him on guard. It wasn’t gray leaf wood smoke from the chimneys but a sweeter smell like burning hay. He left Chloe untied and walked into the dark stable block. “Solo? Solomon, you in here?”
No response. He sniffed again. The smell of smoke was faint. Maybe it was left from a fire earlier in the day. Still, it would be wise to check the buildings.
He walked slowly through the wide open area toward the back door. As he passed the horse stalls, the horses shuffled nervously. There was no fire in here, but something wasn’t right.
He felt along the back door for the handle and pushed it open. With his first step toward the barn, the smoke thickened, clouding the moonlit space between the stable block and the barn. There was no way to tell where it was coming from, so he ran to the barn and threw its door open.
A plume of acidic smoke hit him in the face. The milk cows locked in their stalls bellowed with full volume. An eerie orange light glowed at the far side of the barn.
Isaac’s heart thumped against the wall of his chest. “Fire! Fire!” He wrapped his scarf around his nose and mouth and rushed inside, yelling. “Leonard! Solo!”
Smoke stung his eyes as he flipped the latch on each of the cows’ stalls. “Get out! Go on! Out!”
Only two of the milk cows obeyed while the other two turned frantic circles in their stalls. He peered through the smoke at the growing flames, which were engulfing a haystack near the far wall. If he left the confused cows alone, they might not make it out alive, but if he didn’t leave them to put out the flames, he would lose the whole barn.
He needed help. “Solo! Leonard! Anybody!”
No one answered his calls, so he tightened his scarf and ignored his burning throat. “Help me, Lord!” He hoped his quick prayer would bring the help he needed while he lifted a water trough and carried it toward the flames.
The heat against his face grew hotter the closer he got, but he sent most of the water onto the burning haystack. It hissed while steam mixed with the smoke, blinding him. He ran back far enough to see the water had missed some flames. He needed more water and fast.
He pushed past the nervous cow in the second stall and hefted its trough out. Half of the water sloshed over the sides before he reached the fire. Sweat ran down his face, and his eyes watered to cleanse themselves of the smoke. He could run out of the barn now and no one would bl
ame him.
Most men would run away. Eddie would. Nathan would. His father probably would. He wasn’t like them.
They’d never believed he deserved to be put in charge of anything, but he knew better. They might leave the whole place to burn down, the flames jumping from one building to the next, but he would not. He could be trusted to tend to what was in his care, to protect what was his to protect, to keep his promises.
No matter how much smoke surrounded the fire, he had to get close enough to pour the water directly over the flames. Squinting his burning eyes, he held his breath and threw the trough, water and all, at the flames, then turned and dashed for the barn door, praying the hiss of stream was the fire dying.
Halfway to the door, his lungs begged for air and took a long draw without permission. As soon as he inhaled, he coughed, gasping more than breathing. His knees hit the ground and he reached forward to crawl to the door, but his arms went as limp as a wet rope, and he lost all strength.
Complete darkness engulfed him. As long as he could still smell smoke, he was still conscious.
His fingers dug into the hard packed dirt of the barn floor but couldn’t pull his body closer to the door. The pain in his lungs began to lessen. Maybe it was relieved by the cold breeze coming in from outside the barn.
His thoughts lightened. Maybe there had been no fire at all and this was all a nightmare. He would soon awaken in the bunkhouse with Eddie snoring, or back in the childhood bedroom he shared with Nathan.
Someone gripped his wrists and pulled him hard, his body sliding along the earth. Muffled voices all speaking at once broke through the cries of the anxious animals. Cold air hit his sweaty face, and everything went black.
“Isaac!” Sybil’s distressed voice was the last sound he heard. “Isaac!”
Chapter Fifteen
Someone lightly knocked on the door of Room 6. Sybil shifted her tired body in the cane chair where she’d waited through the night for Isaac to regain consciousness. A pins-and-needles feeling tingled her left leg as she quietly stepped to the door. “Yes?”
Bailey held a silver tray full of covered dishes. “We made breakfast.”
“We?”
“Eva and I did. Well, mostly Eva. Hungry?” The flatware clattered as Bailey set the tray on the top of the chest-of-drawers. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not very good at this room service thing.”
Sybil almost chuckled at Bailey. It was hard not to, but it also felt inappropriate while Isaac was in such a condition, and all because he wanted to save the barn. She forgot about breakfast and looked down at the man she loved. Despite the dirt on his face and ash in his short beard, he looked peaceful lying there.
Bailey nudged her. “Don’t worry. He’ll wake up as soon as the gray leaf medicine has finished its job.”
How could she not worry, especially after how she’d treated him when he left?
When he awoke, he certainly wouldn’t be happy with her. He probably wouldn’t want to court her anymore. She had resigned herself to a life without him when she thought he had left forever, but if he was here at Falls Creek, living and working on the property, eating her cooking every day, and not loving her, then she would be truly miserable.
Bailey gave Sybil’s elbow a gentle tug. “You should keep up your strength so you can return to the kitchen as soon as you see that he’s okay. Believe me, when he wakes up from the gray leaf coma, he will be ravenous, and you don’t want him eating my cooking.” She pointed casually at the tray. “But you must eat something, so there you go. Have at it, girl.”
Sybil pulled her gaze away from Isaac and checked the tray. A cup of coffee, a stack of undercooked hotcakes, and a pile of blackened sausage links. “I’ll just have the coffee, thanks.”
Bailey shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She hadn’t spoken to Bailey last night. Hadn’t been able to speak at all. Now that Isaac was resting peacefully, she found her voice. “Thanks for giving him the gray leaf vapor last night. We would have lost him if you hadn’t brought it with you from Good Springs.”
Bailey stopped at the door, a wistful sheen brightening her amber eyes. “I needed gray leaf medicine when I was in the mountains. Revel gave me the vapor inhalant to save my life. So let’s just say, when I moved here, I wasn’t leaving Good Springs without several vials of it.”
She remembered the day Bailey’s father died at the inn because the gray leaf was no match for his disease. “Let’s just pray it heals Isaac’s lungs.”
Bailey backed out of the room. “It will. Just be patient.”
As Sybil returned to the chair, she blew on the hot coffee and hoped it tasted better than the hotcakes and sausage links looked. When she sat, the chair’s cane creaked, and Isaac stirred. She set the coffee cup down and rushed to his bedside. “Isaac?”
“Mm?”
“Isaac, it’s me, Sybil. Can you hear me?”
“Mm hm.” He brought one fist up from beneath the covers and rubbed his eye. Then stopped, his whole body going still. “Where am I?”
“The inn. Solo and some of the men carried you upstairs last night. Bailey had a vial of gray leaf vapor and made you inhale it.”
He pulled his hand away from his face and reached for her without opening his eyes. She took his hand, her aching heart relieved by his simple gesture. He wasn’t upset with her. She laced her fingers with his. “Philip rode to Riverside to fetch the doctor.”
He grinned a little, his eyes still closed. “I don’t need a doctor.” He threw the covers off himself and patted his chest with the other hand. “Lie here with me.”
No man had ever said that to her before. When she hesitated, he tugged on her hand. “Not like that. Just lie down for a minute.”
The mattress dipped a little as she climbed into bed, her in her day dress, him in the smoke drenched clothes he’d almost died in. He pulled her close and didn’t settle until she laid her head against his chest.
His voice was low and sounded raw from breathing smoke. “Can you hear that?”
A strong and steady thump rhythmically pulsed beneath her ear. “It’s your heart.”
“It’s beating for you, Sybil. I’m here.”
Sweet tears of gratitude warmed her eyes. “I’m so happy you survived.”
“Me too, but that isn’t what I meant. I’m here with you. I won’t leave you. I belong here with you. If I ever need to leave Falls Creek again, I won’t go unless you believe I will return.”
She opened her mouth to apologize, but he kept talking. “And if Leonard doesn’t pick me for the job, I still won’t leave the area. I will clear land down the road and start my own farm.”
It was the most she’d ever heard him say about his future, and every word was like a sugary glaze on a breakfast pastry to her. She let her head relax on his chest. “It sounds like you’ve planned a few things.”
Confidence bolstered his smoke-singed voice. “Oh, yes. I have it all planned out. We could build a cottage—you and me—just down the road from here and fill it with as many children as you want. We’ll name all the girls after you and all the boys after me.”
She didn’t have to look up at his face to know he was smiling. She played along with his joke, finally understanding his humor. “Won’t that get rather confusing?”
“Nope. Because I plan to call them all by their middle names.” He gave her forehead a light kiss. “See how well I’ve learned to plan things?”
She chuckled along with him, everything in her cherishing his words. She laid her hand on his shirt and let her fingers absorb the warmth of his body. “I think you plan things just fine.”
The humor left his voice. “No, I haven’t. Not when I left here. I should have known you needed more—”
“You had to go help your sister. You did the right thing.”
“But I didn’t tell you the right way. First, I should have told you how much I love you and didn’t want to imagine my future if it wasn’t with you.”
S
ybil’s breath caught in her mouth. She raised herself up to look down at him, to see his eyes while he said such things. In them she finally found what she’d been looking for. “You are being sincere.”
Tiny red veins encircled his gray-blue irises. “I’ve never been so sincere in my life. Sybil, I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I need you.” A faint grin brought light to his gaze. “And not just because you’re the best cook in the Land, or because you’ve never demeaned me once. You don’t have a cruel bone in your body. And I don’t need you because you are here and I want to live here. I need you because you are the one soul I want beside me for the rest of my life. I want to marry you and build a home with you and have a family with you.”
Her full heart spread happiness through every inch of her body. He loved her and wanted to marry her. And she loved him too. They could create the family she yearned for. It was everything she wanted to hear, but there was still one complication. She took her hand off his chest. “Isaac, I feel the same way. I just wish we had the blessing of tradition.”
He pushed himself up onto his elbows. “I spoke with your mother while I was in Southpoint, and she gave me her blessing. I will talk to your father too, but if he can’t or won’t give me his blessing, will that keep you from marrying me?”
“No.”
His grin returned. “Good.”
“I do have one small request though.”
“Anything.”
“Can we wait until after Eva and Solo’s wedding? I’ve kind of made a big deal out of planning that.”
He shrugged. “Fine. It’ll give me more time to build our house.”
Joyful anticipation tingled her fingertips. “I can wait. In fact, I’ve learned waiting can be a good thing.”
* * *
After the only tasteless breakfast Isaac had ever eaten at the inn, Claudia filled the tub in the laundry house for him and left him to soak and scrub until the smoke smell was just a memory. The floral scent of her bath soap would probably make him attract more bees than a canola field, but it was better than smelling like an ash heap.
Uncharted Promises (The Uncharted Series Book 8) Page 18