Above Rubies (Rockland Ranch)

by Jaclyn Hawkes

  He considered this at length and decided she was right. It had been at church. “Great! Leave it to us Christians to thrash her before she even has a chance to figure the gospel out.”

  Naomi mused, “Yes and no. Somebody has done something to hurt her, but you’re deluding yourself if you think she hasn’t got it figured out. She’s done an unbelievable amount of research you have no idea about, and she’s got a photographic memory. I daresay if it’s something you can pick up from a book, or a website, she understands it. She just doesn’t feel like she can let on, because it kind of freaks you out. Those are her words, by the way.”

  Rossen turned to stare at his mother. He mentally started to squirm when he remembered hassling Kit about fruit those weeks before. She hadn’t said a word to him about the church since, and he’d assumed he’d been right about her jumping the gun knowing what she was getting into. It took him a minute or two of sorting through various conversations, before his mom’s reference to a photographic memory clicked in. She must have seen the lights come on in his head, as he thought back over the past weeks of working beside Kit in his office.

  “Holy cow!” His voice held a note of reverence.

  Naomi cautioned, “And don’t you make her feel self-conscious about it. She already feels she needs to hide it to fit into society. Don’t make her think she can’t be herself around you. Her self-esteem doesn’t need any more trashing.”

  “Mother, it’s a gift, not a flaw. Give me a little credit.”

  She put her bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and picked up her car keys. “I give you more credit than you’ll ever know. Now change out of that smelly tux and come home and help Kit. She needs you.” She hugged him and walked out the door.

  As the latch clicked behind her he repeated, “Smelly tux . . . What’s she . . . ” He raised his arm. “Smelly tux.”

  Rossen showered, put on a turtleneck and ski sweater and by the time he was ready to go, he was also ready to hit his knees and pray. A part of his prayer was a big thank you for his wonderful mother who was willing to leave the ninety and nine so to speak and go in search of him, her lost sheep, and smooth out all his wrinkles. He smiled remembering her sitting beside him eating Wheaties. She hated Wheaties.

  The balance of his prayer was devoted to asking forgiveness for his discouragement and asking for wisdom and peace in his relationship with Kit.

  He got off his knees not knowing what he should do, but having faith that the Spirit would guide him. One thing he felt for sure was that he should be more emotionally honest. At least with himself, if not her. He needed to remember that his goal was not to not fall in love with her, but to not do things that would keep her from spreading her wings. He was already in love with her, so that was a moot point.

  On his way to the truck he took a load of his stuff, wishing he’d finished building the house he’d designed, and had had drawn up and engineered. He’d bought the ground from his dad to build it on years ago, but had felt like having all three of him, Slade and Sean live in their own houses by themselves, was overkill, and had put off building. Slade and Isabel had both encouraged him to stay with them, but he intended to be completely moved out by the time they returned next week anyway. They needed to have their home to themselves. He could go stay with Sean in his house, but opted instead for his old room in the basement of his parents’, telling himself it made more sense to be near his office.

  He came into the house out of the garage, his arms full, just in time to tell the departing college bunch goodbye. They joked and teased and slammed out the door and as he began to load his things into his old room, he felt like he’d walked through a brisk wind.

  He set his stuff down and went straight upstairs to his dad’s office to find Kit. She wasn’t there, so he went up to look in her studio.

  He found her there so engrossed in her clay she didn’t even hear him come in. He leaned against a counter and folded his arms, fascinated at watching her work. She’d pulled her hair up into a haphazard knot on top of her head and was wearing an old button down he recognized from college over her clothes. It was huge on her and even though she'd rolled the sleeves up several times, it still hung past her elbows.

  She’d covered her cast with a rubber glove she’d cut the fingers out of. He wondered why she didn’t just work in full gloves, but as he watched, he realized what she was doing was all tactile. Her small brown hands were covered in the slick clay and she pushed and smoothed with an almost sensual touch. Her dark head would bend over her work and then rise to move around to another angle. Strands of loose hair slipped across her lips and this time when he thought about her mouth, he just let the thought be, instead of shying away like a frightened colt. Immediately, he was more comfortable with her and knew his idea to be emotionally honest was right.

  He heard himself take a deep breath and she abruptly turned to look in his direction, her blue eyes wide.

  “Oh, Rossen! You scared me!” She went to put her hand to her chest, but then looked at them and thought better of it. “What are you doing here?”

  At that moment he decided to be forthright and see how it went. “I’ve made up my mind to haunt you until you talk to me about whatever it was that happened to you in church.”

  Her eyes flew to his, and for just a split second, he thought she was going to tell him, but then the sadness shuttered her eyes and she turned back to her clay.

  She didn’t look up as she asked, “Oh you have? What makes you think something happened to me at church?”

  “Hmm. An educated guess maybe.” He could have said the fact that she hadn’t smiled in a week, but he didn’t.

  He actually got a break much sooner than he thought he would, when he suggested they get out of the house and go have some lunch in town somewhere. He was hoping simply to have enough privacy to be able to really talk, but he began to get the picture when she looked squarely at him for a moment as if trying to read his mind, and then commented, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” She glanced up at him again. “Being seen with me in public might not be very good for your reputation.”

  She went back to focusing on the clay under her hands, while the wheels in his head began to turn. Someone at church had insinuated, or possibly worse, something about her that could involve his reputation. Her line of thinking was pretty transparent and a face popped into his head as he tried to picture what might have occurred.

  “How about if you let me worry about my reputation?”

  “Fine, but I’ll help.” They were both silent for several minutes while she smoothed the clay. Then she abruptly smashed the figure she was working on. She pushed the clay back into a ball and began kneading it under her palms like bread dough, adding drops of water occasionally from a nearby sponge.

  He asked, “Are you turning me down flat?”

  She slapped the clay against the table. “Yup.” She sounded okay, but she brushed at a tear with the back of a clay covered hand and a second later another one dropped and splashed across the now smooth round lump of clay on the table.

  He took two long steps over to her and almost pushed himself between her and the table. “Why?” He took her chin gently in his fingers to raise her face to look at him. He repeated his question. “Why?”

  She pulled away and stepped around him to pick up the clay. “It’s probably just not the best idea. That’s all.” She carefully wrapped the clay in a couple of layers of plastic and set it aside with the other bags. Then she pulled several wet wipes out of a nearby carton and proceeded to painstakingly clean the table top and her hands.

  When she finally quit scrubbing, she went to a bottle of hand lotion and began to rub a generous amount into her hands. He pulled another wipe from the carton, tipped her chin up again and began to gently remove the clay smudge from where she had wiped at a tear with the back of her hand.

  “So, then what are you going to do now?” He leaned against the counter again.

  She hesitated before s
he asked, “Why?”

  He smiled a lazy smile as he folded his arms across his chest. “Well, if you won’t go to lunch with me, I was just wondering where I need to go next to continue to haunt you.”

  She took his big shirt off and folded it nervously. “I’m not sure, actually. I should be doing my English, but I wasn’t much in the mood for it earlier. What I’d like to do is go outside, but I get so cold here. I guess I’ll just go see what your mom needs help with this morning. We were going to take Isabel’s stuff over to Slade’s for her before they get back.”

  “We have more than a week, but I can help you. Where did you not get so cold? Where did you come from?” He’d wondered that for six weeks now.

  She looked down as she answered, “Arizona. Just west of Tucson, near the Tohono O’odham Nation. But actually I got cold there too, sometimes at night. I think it’s hard to stay warm when you’re too skinny.”

  He smiled at her. “But you’re not too skinny now. You look just right!”

  She looked somewhat self-conscious. “I’ve gained thirty-five pounds since I’ve been here.”

  He laughed. “Really? But you needed it. And you’ll probably do it again, before it gets here.” He nodded at her tummy. “I’ve gotten really good at calling it an it. Have you noticed?”

  She gave him a hint of a smile and he felt like he’d won a prize. “I have noticed. When you smiled at the doctor’s office, I figured it must be the girl you pictured, but now I’m beginning to wonder.”

  “I’m not letting the cat out of the bag. You’ll see. He’ll be two weeks old before you’ll hear anything out of my mouth!”

  Changing the subject he asked, “Do you like to ride horses? I have an idea.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

  “Well, it’s time you tried. We’ll go bareback. It’s much warmer that way in winter. And I’ll put you on our sweetest old plug and ride behind you. You’ll love it! It’s the best way to enjoy the outdoors in the winter.”

  Naomi was skeptical when he announced his intentions and said, “Rossen, she’s five months along. And she has no snow pants.”

  He hugged his mother and reassured her. “We’ll take Tessie and walk and stay on the plowed. And I’ll find something to bundle her up with. She’ll be fine. We’ll be careful. I promise.”

  They dug through the winter gear until they found a pair of Rob’s ski pants that would fit over her tummy. They had to roll them up, but they’d keep her warm. He insisted she wear a turtleneck and fleece and hat and neck gator under her parka, and even Naomi commented, “I imagine she’ll be warm all right.”

  She cautioned again as they went out the door, “You be careful with her.” Turning to Kit she said, “If you’re uncomfortable at all, make him bring you straight in.”

  Twenty minutes later Kit was far from uncomfortable. He'd helped her up onto a mountain of a horse and then gotten on behind her. He was right. The body heat of the horse seeped through their clothes and with him against her back, she was fine. He had both arms around her holding the reins and she’d pretty much decided that riding horses was her new favorite pastime.

  She didn’t have to look at him, and the close physical contact was comfortable and the conversation flowed.

  ****

  She didn’t know it, but that’s exactly the reason he’d chosen to come. He’d been hoping she would open up to him, and she had. Just not about what had gone on at church.

  She fit perfectly in his arms in front of him and he could smell her hair as it brushed against his chin. He realized this wasn’t going to help his heart later, but he didn’t even care. He was enjoying this ride immensely and he’d worry later.

  The weather was perfect. The winter sun was finally moving north again and the wooly livestock were basking in it everywhere they went. He took her on a gentle circuit up the valley on the route they kept plowed for the animals, and from the top of a ridge they could see down into Slade’s valley that the river wound through.

  They rode for an hour, during which he felt they'd gone far in renewing their friendship, but she still hadn’t opened up about how she’d been offended, so on the way back he asked her right out.

  “Kit, what did someone say to you at church that made you worry about my reputation?” He didn’t think she could sidestep the question, but he assumed she’d try and he was right.

  After a second she asked mildly, “What do you mean?”

  He chuckled in her ear. “Nice try. You know exactly what I mean. Answer the question.”

  “Why does it matter?”

  He breathed in against her hair. “Well, since you haven’t cracked a smile since then, I’d say it really matters.” She didn’t answer right away, and he continued, “And if I ventured to guess, I’d say that come Sunday morning, you’re going to try to stay home in some valiant attempt to defend my honor. Am I right?”

  She still didn’t answer and he felt her sigh as she leaned against him. It was a gesture of sadness and defeat, and it tore at his heart.

  Finally, she asked, “Do you remember when you were talking to me about this baby and you said ‘it is what it is’?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Well, you were right. It is what it is. And I am what I am. An unwed, very pregnant girl you brought home from the rodeo circuit. Unfortunately, human beings, being the humans they are, some of them aren’t going to concern themselves with anything more than those couple of facts.

  “You’re a good man, Rossen. Too good to let a minor thing like the church attendance of a non-member throw your moral integrity into question. It’s not some valiant attempt to defend your honor. It’s the right thing to do.”

  They rode in silence for several minutes.

  Finally Rossen asked, “What about taking the sacrament? What about meeting together often, and regular attendance so you can be baptized, and eventually get a temple recommend? What about her.” He placed his hand on Kit’s belly for just a moment. “And, what about Kit?”

  She sighed before she answered, “Kit’s tough.” He could hear some deep emotion in her voice that made him sad as she added, “Someday I’ll deal with all those things, when it won’t hurt the people who have been so good to me.”

  They rode the rest of the way quietly. Rossen felt like he’d won the battle and lost the war. His heart was heavy, but he had to admire her character.

  The horse took a misstep in the crusty snow and his arm tightened around her waist above the baby, and he just left it there.

  Back at the barns, as he slid from the horse’s back, then helped her to the ground, he was more at a loss as to how to handle this girl than ever.

  She stood between him and the big horse and looked up at him. “Thank you for taking me. You’re right. That is the best way to enjoy the out-of-doors in winter. I loved it. Maybe we could go again sometime.” She hesitated for a second. “And thanks for trying to change the world, Rossen. You can’t do it, but thanks for trying.”

  ****

  When Sunday rolled around, Kit had actually come down with a cold and it was obvious she wasn’t faking. Naomi offered to stay with her, but she declined and they left without her. Rossen’s blue eyes held hers for what seemed like days before he shut the door into the garage.

  She drank some orange juice, wishing she knew if a cold pill would harm her baby, and then armed with a box of tissue, went back to bed.

  An hour and a half later there was a quiet knock on her door and Rossen poked his head in. “Are you up to some company? There’s someone here to see you."

  She dragged herself out of bed, slipped on a robe and followed him out, wondering what was going on.

  Seated on the couch in the great room was a woman Kit remembered seeing at church. Rossen made introductions. “Kit, this is Gladys Maggleby from our ward. Gladys, this is Kit Star. She’s an official member of our family now. I’ll leave you two to talk. Excuse me.” Kit’s bleary eyes followed his back out, feeling like she�
��d been left with the executioner.

  The two women fidgeted a moment in silence, then Gladys looked up at Kit with troubled eyes and started, “I guess I should tell you why I’m here. It’s a bit of a long story, so please forgive me.

  “Today in gospel doctrine class, the bishop talked for a few minutes before the class got started. He said he had a problem he needed some help with. He told us a little bit about you and even some personal stuff like where they found you and who the father of your baby was. I hope it’s okay I tell you that.” She hesitated, then continued, “Then he told us how you’ve been studying and were about ready to be baptized, but had decided to quit coming to church because you didn’t want to give Rossen a bad name. Rossen had told him someone at church had insinuated something about Rossen being the father.”

  She looked down and back up with tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a terrible person. The bishop asked if whoever had done that would please apologize and make it right, so you'd come back. He reminded us all that this was the gospel of Jesus Christ, and I’ve never felt worse in my life.”

  She dug in her purse and pulled out a wadded tissue, then went on, “I’m so terrible. My husband knew it had to be me and turned and looked right at me.” Gladys began to blubber in earnest. Kit would have smiled at the poor woman, but she didn’t feel good enough to.

  The older woman sniffled and blew her nose loudly. “Please forgive me. Maybe this can be a big lesson for me and I’ll quit gossiping forever. Anyway, please know that our ward welcomes you. They’re such good people. They’ll love you no matter who the father is. That’s what the bishop was saying to us. That Jesus loves us all no matter what the circumstances, and that we shouldn’t be judgmental. He’s right, and I was wrong, and I’ll just die if you don’t get baptized because of me. So please come back. I’ll understand if you can’t like me, but come back to the others in the ward. They’re all much better Christians than me, obviously.”

  Kit sneezed violently and Gladys jumped. She stood up. “I can see you’re sick. I’d better let you get back to bed. Thank you for listening to a silly old woman, and once again, I’m sorry. Please come back.”