by Lori Wick
To this long-standing joke between the brothers Luke answered as expected: “If I did get married, the first morning she got a look at that furry face of yours she’d go screaming from the house and we’d be alone again.”
Silas was a sight first thing in the morning. His dark, thick hair stuck out in all directions. His beard, usually brushed down in some semblance of order, was in riotous disarray. Luke said he looked like a grizzly bear.
Two cups of coffee later, both men were warmly dressed and headed for the stables. They worked together feeding the 26 horses.
“Gram and Christine will be coming out to the ranch Friday morning,” Silas commented offhandedly.
“They will?” Christine’s name snared Luke’s complete attention.
“They were supposed to come a few weeks ago, but with Elizabeth’s birth and Emily staying with them, it just didn’t work out. I’ll be going to get them midmorning.”
“Don’t you have a buyer coming Friday morning?”
“Yeah, but I’ll have time.”
“I’ll go for you.”
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“It’s cold, Luke-I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Silas answered with his face averted, and it took Luke some minutes to realize he was being teased.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Not to anyone else. You forget I live with you.” The men finished up in silence and went to the house for breakfast. Silas was a great cook, but this morning Luke’s attention was elsewhere.
He finally spoke. “Si, are you and Christine more than friends? I mean, are you interested in her?” Luke wasn’t sure why he had asked, but the thought came to him in the stable and he couldn’t quite shake it.
“If you’re trying to ask me if I’m in love with Christine, the answer is no.” Silas leveled a look on his brother. “Are you in love with her?”
“I don’t know. I’m attracted to her-I have to admit that. I was attracted to her before she got saved. I did a lot of praying in an effort to keep my feelings in obedience. I think it was almost a relief to have her be saved so I could relax when I was around her. Now being able to relax around her has just increased the attraction.”
“How do you think she feels about you?”
“I think she’s scared to death of me. I was barely able to exchange two words with her Sunday.”
“Calvin told me she cried because you teased her.”
“She cried?” Luke’s voice was alarmed.
“It was the Sunday we ate dinner at Mark and Sue’s. Calvin said when she came out to play with them, her eyes were wet and that earlier you had teased her at the table.”
Luke was looking miserable. Were the tears because he had teased her or because she thought he was committed to Caroline?
“Luke, why don’t you go see her this afternoon? Go and stay for supper. Tell her you’re looking forward to her coming Friday. Next week is Thanksgiving. We’ll all be
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together the entire day. If there’s a strain between you two, you’ll both be miserable. Go see her. Talk to her.”
Christine pulled the pie from the oven. It smelled wonderful. “I wonder if Luke likes apple pie. Stop it, Christine!” she told herself in frustration, wishing she had a nickel for every time she had thought of him today. As close as it was to afternoon chore time, she would be a rich woman.
Keeping busy had always kept Christine’s mind off her troubles, but not so where Luke Cameron was concerned. When she was sweeping she remembered the warm way he smiled at her. When she ironed she remembered the warmth of his hand, lightly and briefly on her back so she could precede him out of the door of the church.
Time between Sundays was long, and when at last the next Sunday came, Christine determined to make the best of it. But when Luke had complimented her dress, and innocently asked if it had come with the new coat, Christine was so painfully reminded of the scene with the camisole that she didn’t even answer him.
She hadn’t said ten intelligent words to the man. He probably thought her addlepated!
Christine scolded herself. “You, Christine Bennett, are not getting paid to daydream!” A quick peek at her roast and she had to get to the barn.
“Grandma Em, I’m headed out to feed!”
“Okay,” Grandma Em’s voice answered from somewhere upstairs.
Christine tugged on the ancient overcoat she used for her barn chores and slipped out the back door.
Luke took his brother’s words to heart. He finished his work and was back in the house by 3:30 for a shave and a
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bath. Silas kindly saddled a mount and Luke was on his way to town by 4:00.
He rode at an easy pace, allowing his mind to work on the feelings he had for Christine. He would never have been so presumptuous as to assume that God had placed Christine in Baxter and saved her just to give him a wife. But maybe God did have something special for the two of them.
Luke praised God daily for Christine’s salvation and her interest in Christian growth. Grandma Em had told him that she and Christine studied together nearly every morning, and that Christine was an avid student.
Luke asked himself if he loved Christine. He just wasn’t sure. Loving was risky business. His parents and grandfather had been most dear to him. It had not been the same relationship as husband and wife, but it was a painful loss nonetheless.
He was not worried that Christine was going to die, but she did live in Spooner. There was nothing stopping him from going to see her there, but the idea of not having her in Baxter really bothered him. He wanted a chance to get to know her and was not quite sure how to go about it.
If he found he loved her and she didn’t return that love, the rejection would be bitter. On the other hand, if she fell in love with him and his feelings were not that strong, she would be hurt. Luke rebelled strongly against this idea. She had been hurt by too many people, and he was determined not to be one of them.
Luke had just arrived in town when he really began to listen to himself. He wasn’t trusting God at all. He was worrying and fretting about something over which God had complete control.
Luke began to pray silently, his heart humbled before his heavenly Father. He confessed the pride he had felt when thinking he could deal with this issue without God’s help.
A special peace stole over Luke as he communed with God. He asked God’s help in obeying His will, come what
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may, and in listening to his own heart about Christine. Luke remembered what Silas had said: God won’t hide His answers. If God wanted Luke and Christine together, Luke would eventually know it.
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The first hit of cold air took her breath away as Christine stepped from the warmth of the kitchen. She shivered a little as she walked to the barn. The door was kept closed in this weather, and when Christine got inside she lit a lamp to see.
“How’s my sweet old Caesar tonight?” Christine said affectionately to this faithful old friend as she fed him. “Are you keeping warm out here? I’m afraid it’s going to get much colder before we see spring.” Christine stopped talking abruptly and stood still a moment. She thought she smelled smoke. Figuring it was from someone’s stove, she went back to work with a shrug.
“You’re going to get fat and lazy…” her words died off.
She did smell smoke. But where? Not until Christine stepped completely out of Caesar’s stall did she see the cause.
The barn was on fire, over by the door. Christine did not panic but ran toward the blaze, stripping off her coat as she hurried.
With the coat she began to beat at the flames, but they were spreading quickly out of control. Feeling the heat on her face, Christine knew she had to get out.
The animals! Quickly Christine ran to Chester’s stall. He had been strangely quiet tonight, Christine thought absently as she grabbed the scruff of his neck and began to pull. She knew opening the door would fan the flames, but she had no choice.
Throwing the d
oor open, Christine ran out into the cold. Taking deep breaths of fresh air, she left Chester some ten feet away before running back to the barn.
Hesitating at the door, Christine could see that the flames had multiplied in those few seconds. Taking the hem of her skirt, she covered her face and charged back in.
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“Please, God,” she prayed, “please let Caesar come willingly,” knowing how fearful horses were of fire.
Once in the stall, Christine grabbed his halter and tried to move him. He tossed his head, his nostrils dilating as he inhaled the smoke. Trying to resist her, his eyes rolled fearfully in their sockets.
Thinking that an eternity of breathing smoke and praying had passed, Christine miraculously felt the horse back out of the stall.
“Thank You, God,” she sobbed as she looked toward the barn door. The leaping flames made their passageway to safety small, but Christine determined to get Caesar out of the barn or die trying.
Caesar fought Christine as she pulled him along the alley between the stalls. Quickly losing visibility, Christine tried to coax him along with words, but her voice was choked off by the smoke.
The smoke nearly blinding them now, Christine began to feel dizzy and lightheaded. She felt her way along the stalls, silently pleading with God for strength.
Amazingly, the door was in sight! Fresh air! They were going to make it! Caesar picked that time to lunge for the door, knocking Christine against the wall. She felt the flames burn her ankle and calf. A quick turn and she was through the door, only to trip on the threshold. She put her hands out as the ground came rushing up to meet her, but suddenly strong arms were surrounding her, lifting her high against a solid chest.
Christine squinted up through painfully dry and burning eyes to see the clean cut of Luke’s jawline above her. He looked down then, his features sharp with concern and then softening with tenderness as his eyes met hers.
It was the tenderness she saw there amid all the places she hurt. Turning her soot-blackened face into his coat and clinging with all her might, Christine began to sob.
She was still clinging to Luke and crying when she felt the softness of a mattress beneath her back. Luke laid her
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gently on her own bed and stayed bent over her. He realized, prior to this night, that he had never known the meaning of the word “fear.”
Upon arriving and seeing the smoke, Luke had run to the backyard. His grandmother had just come out of the house and called to him that Christine was in the barn. Luke had thought his heart was going to stop.
“Luke?” Christine croaked in a dry cough.
“Shhh, don’t try to talk. Gram sent a neighbor for Mark.”
“The animals?”
“The animals are fine. Now, not another word.”
“Please don’t leave me.” Again another cough seized her.
“Shhh,” he said as he gently placed a finger on her dry lips. “I’m right here, I won’t leave you.” Luke attempted then to straighten away from the bed, but Christine grabbed frantically for him. He bent over her once again. “I’m just getting out of this coat. I’ll be right here.” Her eyes slid closed at his comforting words and she wondered if she had imagined the kiss she felt on her brow.
It could have been a minute or an hour later-Christine could not gauge-when she felt someone pulling her shoes off.
“Luke?”
“Luke is in the hall. He hasn’t left you. Maggie and I are here to take care of you. When we’re done, Luke can come back in.” Mark’s reassuring voice came from somewhere above her.
Christine lay still after that, only protesting when her ankle was touched. Gentle hands washed her and helped her into a soft, fresh-smelling nightgown. When a glass was held to her lips, she drank without question. The door opened and she heard Mark’s voice. “You haven’t much time before the powder does its job?5Before Christine could work through these cryptic words, Luke was back beside the bed.
Easing down on the bed beside her, Luke watched as Christine focused in on his face and smiled. Luke smiled
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back as he placed a hand on either side of her, knowing the medicine was taking effect.
Christine reached to the face above her and touched Luke’s cheek. Her smile broadened when she realized he was really there.
“I’m here,” he said softly. Christine’s hand dropped to the front of his shirt, where she grabbed a fistful of material and hung on. “I have to go to sleep now.” Her voice was slurred and she made no move to release him.
“All right, I’ll see you in the morning.”
Her eyes slid shut and Luke sat quietly a moment before Christine’s eyes flew open again.
“Luke?”
“I’m still here.”
“Do you like apple pie?”
“It’s my favorite,” he answered in bemusement, wondering what had brought this on.
Her eyes closing again, Christine let out a huge sigh. Luke sat with her long after her breathing evened out and the hand holding his shirt fell slack against her side. Luke found it hard to breathe when he thought of how close he had come to losing her. You didn’t withhold your love from a person just because it might be risky. This was clear to him now.
“She’ll be fine, Luke.” Mark’s voice spoke from the foot of the bed.
“What if she wakes in the night and calls for me?”
Luke loved the fact that she wanted him there. And soon he would tell her just how much he wanted to be there.
“Maggie is staying in the guest room just in case she wakes up, but it’s not likely. She’ll sleep through the night and you can come back in the morning. Your losing a night’s sleep is not going to help anyone.”
Luke nodded reluctantly and Mark moved toward the door.
Luke turned down the lamp until the room was bathed in a soft glow. Christine’s head on the pillow was turned
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toward Luke. His eyes moved a final time over her lovely face. He bent and kissed her cheek. “Good night, Christie.” Luke’s words came softly as he sat, almost in wonder over the realization of the love he felt in his heart for this woman.
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For the second time in not many months, Christine awoke to find Maggie nearby. Gone was the fear of the unknown, replaced this time with just a calm security at seeing her familiar face.
Maggie helped Christine drink a glass of water and then left to tell Mark his patient was awake.
Within minutes both Mark and Maggie were at her side. Christine, still drowsy, lay quiet as Mark checked her leg. It was tender and, he told her, not badly burned. As Christine began to come fully awake, many questions were coming to mind. Mark pulled the desk chair up to the head of the bed and sat down.
“Your leg looks good. The only thing I’m concerned with is your nose, throat, and lungs. You took in a lot of smoke, and I want you to stay in bed until I give you leave to get up. And no talking!”
“No talking?” Christine croaked, thinking of all the questions she had.
“Does your throat hurt?”
Christine knew what he was getting at and stubbornly refused to answer.
“Christine!” Mark’s voice was very stern, and he sounded amazingly like Luke. “Does your throat hurt?”
Her jaw set, Christine gave him a short nod.
“Until it stops hurting, you are not to talk.”
“How am I to communicate?” Tears sprang to Christine’s eyes, born of a sore throat and frustration.
Mark answered with his best bedside manner. “There will be someone here to check on you at all times.” She watched Mark produce a small pad of paper and a pencil from his pocket. “If you can’t answer with a nod or shake of your head…” Mark tapped the pad and put it on the bedside table.
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Christine was on the verge of telling Mark to take his orders and get out of her room, but she began to grow weary and she ached all over. Suddenly the fight went out of her an
d her eyes closed, not wanting to fight sleep or anything else.
Mark took Christine’s sleep as a peaceful acceptance of her situation. Unaware of how far this was from the truth, he headed out to see what Mac and his brothers were finding.
Mark found Mac, Luke, and Silas, along with a few other neighbors, looking around the charred remains of the barn. There was talk of possible causes for the fire. The family was thanking the men who had carried water and soaked the ground surrounding the barn, seeing that the structure itself was going too quickly to be saved. It had been a small barn, and thankfully the closest building was well over a hundred feet away.^ut the water surrounding the barn had been an extra safety precaution.
When Luke found a moment with Mark, he asked about Christine.
“Her leg is in good shape but I think she’s feeling pretty weak. She was asleep when I left her.”
“She sounded so hoarse last night. Will her throat be okay?”
“I’ve told her to be quiet until her sore throat is gone, but I think she’ll be fine. She wasn’t too happy with the idea of not talking.”
“Telling a woman not to talk is like saying ‘sic ‘em’ to a hound dog.” Both men laughed at this and started toward the house.
Close to an hour later, with everyone just finishing breakfast, Maggie came down to prepare a tray for Christine.
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Christine, wrapped warmly in her robe, was sitting up in bed brushing her hair. She could hear voices downstairs and wondered what was happening.
Christine reached for her Bible but didn’t open it. She leaned her head back against the oak headboard and began to pray. Christine told God what an awful patient she was. She was rarely sick, and when she was, she made herself miserable by fretting about things not getting done until she could be up and around again. She and Grandma Em worked so well together. Christine asked God to soon put her back on her feet so she could be of help again. Christine’s prayer was interrupted when the questions she had had earlier that morning began to roll once again through her mind. They destroyed her peace and made her feel weary. Did the barn burn down completely? Where were the animals? Who was taking care of them? Did anything else burn? Was anyone hurt? Tears again filled Christine’s eyes as in frustration she asked God to help her obtain some answers.