Faith Hope and Love (A Homespun Romance)

by Kakade, Geeta

  Behind the house a trail wound through the trees and led up a slope to a grove of evergreens. Beyond the first row were some arranged in a perfect circle. Rachel sank on to the fallen tree trunk that served as a seat and rested against the trunk of another. This had to be the most beautiful spot in the world. She had a hundred and eighty degree view from here. On the horizon she could see the Pacific. Below her lay the house. Two hundred yards from it a small stream meandered into the distance. She loved to come here to watch the sunsets, the reflection of the colors mirrored by the stream. The next time she went to town she would invest in a camera…these pictures would be perfect for her memory book.

  Today though her mind wasn't on the view. It was time to reconsider her position.

  She had been here a whole week now and each day it seemed like one of the bricks in her careful defense crumbled. Luke was moving in, too dangerously close, unleashing feelings she hadn’t known existed. She was closer to being seriously hurt than she had ever been in her life. It was time to take a dispassionate look at what was happening, stop it before it got out of hand.

  What was happening was she was dangerously close to forgetting every harsh lesson she had ever learned. Of letting herself get accustomed to things, of believing again.

  That wasn't all. For someone who till very recently had worked twenty hour days she was getting so used to Hannah's cosseting, and life in the lap of luxury, it was going to be hard to get back to normal.

  Luke. Rachel bent forward, picked up a spray of pine needles, twirled it between thumb and forefinger. He treated her as if she were Gordie's age. Didn't argue. Didn't plead. Just listened and then went ahead and did exactly as he wanted. Rachel knew something now that she had never experienced in her whole life. Strong men used the word yes to get their own way.

  Hannah. Rachel wanted to throw her arms around the older woman and absorb all the warmth and love she exuded. To someone who had this deep void inside, as she did, just being around the housekeeper was enough to dispel any emptiness. But Hannah frightened her too. She acted as if Rachel was where she belonged; as if she would never leave.

  Theresa Rodriguez, had taken her visiting one afternoon and introduced her to the other wives on the Diamond Bar. She was welcomed as Chris' cousin, asked about her work abroad, urged to come back and visit. Rachel had come away with the feeling that these people liked her for who she was.

  Jason had offered to teach her how to ride, how to drive and how to square dance. He didn't know German but if she was interested in the language he would take lessons at the local college. He made her laugh with his jokes and his easy going comments on life. Every Friday night, he'd told her, the farm employees had a get together in the old barn converted into a huge recreation area. Any time she felt like joining them he would be happy to escort her. Rachel thanked him politely but refused all the offers. She wasn't going to be there long enough to benefit from any of the lessons and she didn’t want to form ties she’d have to break soon.

  In the ranch house Luke and Hannah seemed to have entered a conspiracy. She wasn't allowed to help around the house. When they weren't urging her to eat, they were shooing her outdoors, telling her to get some fresh air into her lungs. Neither of them asked why she hadn't picked up the baby yet. Neither of them seemed to mind. What they didn’t know was she lingered by his crib when no one was around, talked to him and loved his smile. He’d stopped hiding his face when he saw her and yesterday when she had played a silent game of peek a boo with him, he’d chuckled.

  For the first time in her personal life, other than the brief summer she had spent with Chris, Rachel found herself being accepted for who she was, no strings attached. The feeling was heady and dangerous.

  A person could get addicted to that kind of thing; delude oneself that it would last. The fact remained that she didn't belong here, and the sooner she got back to her normal routine the better.

  She had talked to Dr. Waylon Smith, Director of the MRA chapter in L.A. yesterday. That had been another surprise. He had already received two telephone calls about her. One, he said, from a Luke Summers, the other from a Dr. Kenton in Santa Barbara. She was not to think of returning till Dr. Kenton gave her a clean bill of health. The New Year would be time enough to talk about her next assignment. If she wanted, there was a position in L.A. she could have, interviewing and training volunteers for relief work abroad.

  It had taken that telephone call to make Rachel realize how determined Luke was to keep her here. That he cared for what was his, she could see every day she spent here. That for some reason he was beginning to include her in that category was what scared her. Had he suggested to Dr. Smith that she should be offered a local job?

  The thought was tempting. If she lived in L.A. she could see Gordie often. Luke, she knew, would be generous about allowing her to visit.

  A raven cawed interrupting her wishful thinking. That was all it amounted to. Toying with the idea of staying here was just opening the way to more rejection. Any fool could see the way she was reacting to Luke already was out of all proportion to the impersonal, kind hospitality she was being offered. How long would she be content with that? Given time she would want more, and that was when the trouble would begin. Rejection from Luke would destroy her.

  Her subconscious was against her too; conjuring up dreams of Chris in the early hours of every night’s fitful sleep. In one, Chris and she had been sitting by the stream and Chris had bent to throw some water at her, laughing in the old way, challenging her to play. In another she had been walking in front of Rachel wearing a filmy white dress and turned to look at her over her shoulder and said, “Stay with us.”

  Rachel knew if she didn’t leave soon, her willpower would erode into nothing. Christmas was three weeks away. She had to get away before that.

  Hannah glared at Luke, "Did Dr. Kenton tell you what's wrong with her? She hasn't held the baby yet. Watches him with her heart in her eyes and talks to him when she thinks no one's around. I've never seen anything like it in all my life”

  "Give her time," Luke sounded angry.

  Hannah knew he wasn't angry with her. Or Rachel. He was just angry with whatever had made her the way she was. It had to have been a bitter lesson to make Rachel Carstairs afraid of loving.

  "Maybe we ought to force the issue a bit," Luke's brow furrowed in thought. "Get you out of the way."

  "You mean say I'm sick and send Marie home early?"

  Luke nodded. "Your bad back could give out on you, or you could fall and break a bone in your ankle." Warming to his idea he continued thoughtfully, "Just something to put her in the position where she has to pick up Gordie."

  Hannah swiped him with the kitchen towel she always kept on her shoulder. "Get back to your work you wily old fox, before I find that old wooden spoon I used on you and Rob. You'll have me in a straitjacket next."

  But the idea took root. Rachel returned from her walk to find Hannah moaning, seated in a straight backed chair, obviously in pain. Gordie stood in his playpen nearby, listening to the sounds with interest, trying to make similar sounds of his own.

  "Hannah, what's wrong?" Rachel was on her knees beside the chair in a second.

  "My back," Hannah groaned, "I just reached forward in a certain way and it went click. Ooh!"

  "I'll call Dr. Kenton." Rachel's initial concern was ousted by a professional calm that had stood her in good stead for the last four and a half years.

  "Luke already did that," Hannah sounded breathless and Rachel wondered if she was more shaken than she was letting on. "This has happened before. Dr. Kenton said I was to alternate hot and cold treatments, take my muscle relaxant and pain killers and sleep on a firm mattress."

  Luke stepped into the kitchen, "Hannah are you any better?"

  Hannah bit her lip and shook her head. "Jason was going into town and I gave Marie the afternoon off so she could get some early Christmas shopping done."

  "Well, don't worry about that now. Let's get you to
bed first." His brow creased in a frown. "Juan just called. Theresa can't come in today either. David's running a fever. Angela will be over as soon as she's home from school, but that won't be till later. Pity Marie picked today to go shopping. I have to finish this new program I'm working on by tomorrow. I won't be able to do that now. I'll just call my office and... "

  "Don't do that Luke," Rachel interrupted quickly, "I can help."

  The metamorphosis to calm, capable, confident amazed Luke. Any hint of shyness, of uncertainty, was gone. Aware Rae was talking he forced himself to concentrate. "Let me help Hannah to bed and I'll be right back. I have a general idea of Gordie's routine and I can manage to keep him busy when he's awake. It'll work out." Turning to Hannah she soothed, "It will wear off in a day or two, you'll see. I’ll help you with the hot and cold treatments."

  Cued in by Luke's raised brows, Hannah wheezed in mock sorrow, "No, it won't. It's been like this before. Always takes at least a week to mend."

  An arm around her, Rachel helped Hannah to her room. She returned after a while, said briskly, "I'll keep an eye on Gordie now."

  Luke held out a piece of paper with Gordie's schedule on it. "His formula's already made up in the refrigerator. Baby food's on the shelf above the toaster. If you need any help, just yell."

  His eyes held hers searching the depths for signs of nervousness, found none. Rachel Carstairs must be one hell of a good relief worker. Not many women could match her response in a crisis. He shrugged slightly, "I guess I'd better get back to the computer."

  It was as simple as that.

  Two hours later Luke peeped into the sun room. Only the movement of the rocker gave any indication she was in it. Singing. Wisps of a lullaby floated to him. Luke looked up at the glass of the patio door. Her reflection showed her cheek resting on Gordie's head. The baby was fast asleep but it was easy to see she wasn't going to put him down for a while.

  Luke smiled though the lump in his throat was painful. Maybe Gordie would get the message across to Rachel that she belonged here. He slipped away to check on Hannah.

  "It's working," he announced triumphantly. "Heard her talking to Gordie all the time she was giving him his lunch. Heard her laugh out loud once, and now she's singing to him."

  Pleasure flooded Hannah. She hadn't seen Luke look so relaxed in a long while. Not wanting to embarrass either of them she covered emotion with gruffness, "How long do I have to stay in here? Lying in bed is a penance. Rachel took my pillows away. Said it was better for my back this way. I can barely breathe in this position."

  "Rest easy,” said Luke giving her one pillow. “It won't be for more than a week I promise."

  Luke's careless whistle could be heard all the way back to his study. A week! Hannah glared at the door he had closed behind him. Inaction would be the death of her.

  She wasn't really angry though. She propped herself up and leaned back a satisfied smile on her face.

  "It does a body good to hear him whistle," she said aloud.

  Miriam Summers had been excellent with the thoroughbreds, sharing all the duties of running the Diamond Bar with her husband. It had been Hannah who had brought up the boys for those first few years, forging a bond with them that had never slackened. Now, one of her boys was dead. She wanted happiness for the other, not a lifetime of abasement of his own needs so he could do the right thing by his brother's son. Sometimes Luke's total involvement in Gordie frightened her.

  "My sister Betty wants me to visit her," Hannah announced when Rachel carried a tray in at one o'clock. She had barely managed to push the pillows off the bed in time. "Did I tell you she lives just half an hour away? Well, I talked to her and she said she'd love some company. It would make it easier for you too, not having to wait on me hand and foot."

  "I don't mind the work," Rachel protested. The rope tied to her anchor here was slipping through Rachel's hands so fast; everything was a blur of fear. She made one last desperate grab at it. "Hannah don't..."

  "Yes dear?" Hannah peered at the soup, ignoring the panic in the face above hers. Not waiting for an answer she swept on, "It will be good to visit with Betty. Did I tell you her husband, Bud, is away in San Francisco for the week? A business trip, but this close to Christmas she couldn't go with him. She's inundated with orders for her baked goods. Betty and I have always been very close. She's so excited about my visit, I feel better already."

  It would be selfish to say anything. Rachel bit her lip. She would miss the warm, garrulous, housekeeper terribly.

  "It's all arranged." Hannah nodded her head in satisfaction, pretending she couldn't see the look of desperation on Rachel's face. "Luke's managed on his own before. Theresa has offered to come in from eight to one with Marie. Angela usually gets here about three and stays till six. She'll return at eight and sleep here, all the time I'm away. You'll do just fine. Gordie very seldom gets up at night so you don't have to worry about that. Luke has the baby monitor in his room anyway, and he's in Gordie's room before the child can draw breath for his second cry. Juan will drop me off at my sister's...save her making the trip. Remember I'm only a phone call away."

  Rachel packed a bag for Hannah. Half an hour later the housekeeper had left and the house seemed very empty. For someone with a bad back she was surprisingly agile getting into the car, Rachel noticed. Backs were tricky things though. Hopefully Hannah wouldn't suffer too much pain with hers.

  Of Luke there was no sign since an hour ago when he had fixed them both roast beef sandwiches for lunch, and asked if she needed any help.

  Gordie was still asleep. Rachel sank into the rocker in the family room and took a deep breath. She would manage fine...as long as she didn't panic. And she wouldn't scare herself by trying to look at the picture of the whole week stretching ahead. Just the next hour. That was the way she had got through some of the worst situations in her relief work.

  Angela's arrival coincided with Gordie waking up. The girl had a well-established routine. She plugged in the vacuum cleaner and got busy.

  Gordie needed changing. Rachel carried him to his room deciding to sponge his face and change his clothes as well. The first part was no problem. He smiled as she wielded the washcloth wrung out in warm water. Putting him into a diaper was a different matter altogether. The children she'd worked with had rarely used diapers. The few she'd seen had been cloth ones that fastened with a knot in front, or a safety pin. Tongue between her teeth Rachel managed to get it on him. She thought she'd done pretty well till she picked him up and it slid off his little bottom. Luckily the tapes were resealable. Rachel tried again. How tight was too tight for a baby?

  Pleased with her second attempt, she finished dressing Gordie and took him into the family room. It was all a matter of staying calm and getting used to doing things differently, she told herself. Taking out a bottle she plugged in the bottle warmer. Gordie nestled into her neck. Pleasure so intense it was almost pain shot through Rachel, and she laughed softly, "You're a sweetheart. I'm falling in love with you."

  "Another slave?"

  Rachel's heart jerked then went completely still. Luke stood in the doorway watching them. Time froze for a minute and Rachel had the oddest feeling they were replaying a familiar scene from another time, another life.

  "Need a hand?" He was so close she couldn't think couldn't breathe. The warmth that emanated from him invited touching. The crisp curls in the vee of his checked shirt were oddly disturbing.

  "No. He's fine." Rachel turned away, picked up the bottle. Gordie in his usual rush grabbed at it. The smile returned to Rachel's face as she sank into the wooden rocker cradling him in her arms. Gordie seemed to think having a feed was an aerobic workout. If she kept her mind on the baby, the rest would just fade away.

  Luke strolled over to a kitchen cabinet, took out a couple of mugs, placed the kettle on the stove.

  "Want some herbal tea?"

  A week here and the craving for coffee had disappeared. "Please. How's the job going?"

 
; Luke's eyes lingered on the baby's dark head tucked into the curve of Rachel's breast. "Fine. I should be done by midnight. Tomorrow I can give you a hand with Gordie."

  He poured the boiling water over the tea bags. For the first time Rachel noticed the lines of strain around Luke's eyes. "Don't worry about us. We're getting along fine."

  "I can see that."

  Gordie's eyes were fixed on Rachel's face as he drank. Rachel looked down at him. An indescribable tenderness cast a startling luminescence on her features. Luke drank in the picture. The sight was enough to bring a strong man to his knees in reverence. He fought the urge to pick them both up, hold them close to his heart.

  It was too soon. Rachel was walking a tightrope of discovery. About herself. About life. One wrong move on his part and she would tumble off and never find the courage to get back on. He had to be patient. It was a first for him, this waiting for a woman, but then he wanted more than a brief roll in the hay with Rachel.

  "Leave mine on the counter, please."

  Her voice jerked him back to the present. Nodding, he picked up his own mug and went back to the study.

  On the family room floor, Rachel played a game of peek a boo with Gordie that set him giggling and chuckling. After a while she put him on his exercise mat reminding herself that he could roll over and crawl. Yesterday Hannah said he had gotten behind the couch in the family room and almost given her a heart attack when she'd looked up and hadn't seen him anywhere. Luckily he had cooed an immediate answer to her call. He needed constant watching.

  Dinner. Thinking of the wonderful meals Hannah always had on the table, Rachel was consumed by nervousness. When it had been just her father and herself, the evening meal had usually been soup-out-of-a-can and sandwiches. Once in a while she had put things into a crockpot, but that was the extent of her culinary talents. There had never been any opportunity to learn to cook abroad. MRA usually hired a local cook for its field workers. It couldn't be too difficult surely. Hannah made it look so easy.