by Linda Ford
She smiled at him as she spoke to Donny. “Your ma was real sick during the winter. It will take time for her to get better.”
“I guess. Look. See that hill? Pa called it the Big Nose Hill. He said it looked like an old man’s nose.”
Reese and Victoria looked the direction Donny pointed. Reese laughed. “It does look like a nose. Your pa sounds like a very nice man.”
“Yup. He sure was.” Donny stood.
Reese caught him by the back of his trousers. “Hey, now. I don’t want you falling out. Your ma would skin me alive if something happened to you.”
Donny sat down. “Just trying to see the place. There it is.” He pointed and bounced up and down.
Reese slowed as they approached the farm and let Donny jump down. The boy ran toward the barn yipping and yelling.
“You’ve made one little boy very happy.” The approval in Victoria’s voice felt like warm sunshine.
“It didn’t take much.”
“You’re being modest. You had to give up your day to do this.”
He hoped he managed to look sad. “Shucks. To think I could have been painting the barn. Have you noticed how red it is becoming?”
She chuckled. “It’s pretty hard to miss.”
They drew to a halt in front of the house, but he didn’t make any move to get down. “Do you want to know what I learned while painting the barn?”
“Of course.”
He leaned close and whispered. “From the ladder I can see most of the town and people coming and going.”
“Why are you whispering?”
He looked to the right and left as if fearing someone would overhear him. “I don’t want Sylvie or Jimmy to know it. They’d be up there all day long not missing a thing.”
She laughed, the sound a breath of music. “I don’t think they miss hardly anything as it is. We certainly don’t want them seeing more.”
“Can’t hear too well up there though. I guess that’s one disadvantage that might discourage them.”
Her expression was sober, but her eyes sparkled. “I think we might have a little concern for Sylvie’s safety. Would the ladder support her weight?”
“I don’t think we want to find out.” He jumped down and reached up to help her to the ground.
“Stella asked me to look around. I assured her Kade was taking good care of the place for her, but she said he’s a man and might miss things a woman would see. She especially wanted to know that her house was all right.”
They went inside.
“Wow,” Reese said as he glanced around. “The place is as clean as Martha’s laundry.”
“I think Flora might have had a hand in this. I know most people look at her and shake their heads because she rides like a man, but she is a very caring person. Didn’t take Kade long to realize that.”
Victoria went to a bedroom, paused in the doorway, and then turned so suddenly he didn’t have time to step aside. She bumped into him hard enough to make him grunt and treaded on his toes.
He caught her by the shoulders to steady them both.
“I’m sorry.” She took half a step back. “Did I hurt you?’
He wasn’t hurt, but he didn’t intend to miss an opportunity to tease her. He moaned and grabbed at his foot. He hobbled to the kitchen and fell to a chair.
She leaned over him. “What can I do?”
Her face was so close to his he could see the way her eyelashes grew fair closer to her eyes, and dark at the outer edges. He could see a rim of darker blue around the iris of her eyes and the tempting softness of her lips.
Her eyes met his. The clock stopped ticking. Perhaps it never had ticked. But the silence of the clock was replaced by the steady beat of his heart against his ribs. Her gaze went to his mouth. His went to hers. He forgot his injured toe. Caught her shoulders and pulled her closer.
He wanted nothing so much as to kiss her, but he would not do so until he was able to be honest with her. He wanted nothing to do with a relationship that wasn’t built on…what was the word he’d used? Authenticity.
He eased her back rather than forward.
“Is your foot okay?”
He reveled in the breathlessness of her question and got to his feet, testing his foot. “I don’t think it was hurt too badly. Is there anything else you want to look at in here?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You let me believe I’d hurt you?”
He backed away as she stalked him. “I thought it might be fun. Maybe I was wrong.”
She grabbed his shirt front. “You are certainly wrong about that, and many other things.”
He caught her hands and held her at arm’s length. Not because he feared her pretend anger but because he knew it would take only an inch closer and he would pull her into his arms.
He couldn’t. Not when he held such a big secret. One that had such awful power to destroy her current life. And his too. He did not fit into a rich girl’s way of life.
“What else am I wrong about? Do tell.”
She pulled her hands free. “That will be my little secret.” She dashed for the door, laughing merrily.
He chased her and skidded to a halt in the sunshine. He could not run after her, because if he caught her, he would surely forget all his good intentions. “Do you think we should check on young Donny?”
She was already on her way to the barn. He followed her into the dim interior.
Victoria breathed in the warm air, but it did nothing to still her racing heart. What had happened in the house? A momentary lapse of common sense. She’d barely stopped herself from kissing him and then from grabbing him and holding on.
She’d scared the poor man, and she couldn’t blame him for his reaction.
Glad of a diversion, she stepped into the barn and called, “Donny?” They shouldn’t have left the child unsupervised. Yes, he was used to this place and, from what he’d said, been allowed to run freely. But she couldn’t help but think of the fright he’d given them yesterday.
“Shh.” His voice came from a shadowed corner.
Reese at her side, they went to the boy where he sat cross-legged on the dusty floor. She knelt, saw what he held on his lap, and shuddered.
“What have you got?” Reese asked.
“Baby mice.”
Four of them, squirming about.
“Aren’t they sweet?”
Victoria pushed to her feet and again shuddered. Sweet was not the word she would use to describe the little creatures. There were only beginning to grow some fur and their eyes hadn’t opened.
Reese chuckled. Saw the look on Victoria’s face and came to her side. “They’re harmless baby mice,” he said.
“Mice are mice.” She wouldn’t say exactly what she thought of them with Donny obviously thinking they were nice.
“Can I take them home?” he asked.
Victoria gave Reese a pleading look. Make him leave them here.
He grinned.
“Now is not the time to tease me.” Her voice croaked.
His grin widened. “Donny, they need their mama still. I’m afraid they’ll have to stay here.”
Thank you, she mouthed.
“I guess you’re right.” Donny set the little nest on the floor and ran from the barn.
Victoria’s lungs released in a whoosh.
Reese, laughing, took her by the arm and led her into the sunshine.
She shuddered twice.
He draped an arm about her shoulders and tipped his head to hers. “They won’t hurt you.”
Her insides warmed at his comfort. “You can’t be sure of that.”
He grinned far too widely as they followed Donny.
The boy climbed over the fence and raced around the pen. He paused in front of Victoria and Reese. “Ma had to let the cow go but she said we’ll get another one when the time comes.” He circled the pen once more then left it to go toward the house where he kicked away some leaves. “It’s here. My farm is still here. Come and see.”
They joined him and saw that he had built a tiny farm with fences made of twigs. There was a small barn. “Pa made me this.” He picked it up and carried it to the wagon then returned to dig some weathered carved animals from the covering of leaves. “I shouldn’t have left them out. But I got sick and forgot them.” He brushed them off and took them to the wagon.
Then when Victoria feared he might be overcome with sadness, he ran past the house toward the field. Kade had already put the seed in the ground, and Donny squatted to study the furrows.
“We might as well sit here where we can watch him.” Reese pointed to the sunny spot next to the house and they sat down, side by side, elbows touching.
She knew she should put some distance between them, but the sunshine cocooned her in a state of inertia. What would it hurt to let herself enjoy this moment of sweetness? She well knew it must be temporary.
Mustn’t it?
Right now she couldn’t answer her question.
They watched Donny go from place to place, exploring.
She was content to sit in the sunshine at Reese’s side watching the boy and talking about ordinary things like the weather, the view of the mountains, and Donny’s joy at being home.
Donny trotted up to them. “Are we gonna have a picnic?”
Victoria didn’t realize how long they’d been there. “We brought food.”
“I know the perfect place for a picnic. Mama and Papa used to take us there. You want me to show you?”
Reese got to his feet and pulled Victoria to hers. “Let’s get the basket then you can show us.”
Donny bounced impatiently as Reese trotted over to get the basket of food from the wagon.
Victoria chuckled when he picked up his package as well. “You’re hungry?” she asked.
“I think young Donny is going to put away as much food as either of us. He hasn’t slowed down since he got here.”
“And he’s not slowing down now.” Donny had run to the top of a little hill and waved at them to hurry.
“Race ya,” Reese said, laughing at her shock.
Victoria picked up her skirts and ran as fast as she could, but it was uphill and she wasn’t a fast runner.
Reese waited at the top of the hill. “What took you so long?”
“I was being ladylike.” She did her best to make it sound noble.
He laughed. “Let that be your excuse.”
“I’ve never been a good runner. When the girls had any sort of race, I always came in last.” She gave him a superior tilt of her nose. “I always said it’s because I was raised to think running was not appropriate behavior. Of course, I don’t know anything about my past so I can’t say for sure, but I always thought it sounded reasonable. And convenient.”
She’d expected him to laugh at her excuse, but any sign of amusement fled from his face as he turned away.
She caught his arm. “Why do you seem not to like my explanation?”
They followed Donny, who continued down the hill.
Reese shrugged. “It seems to me that your past has you trapped.”
“Don’t you mean my lack of a past?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Funny, it didn’t sound that way. Do you think I purposely avoid learning who I am?”
He stopped to face her. “No, but I do wonder how you’d deal with it if you were to find out who you were.”
A slow burn began in the pit of her stomach and eased upward until she felt like her insides were on fire. The blaze raced to her brain. “I’ve told you why I don’t want to find out my past after all these years. For one thing, why didn’t someone try to find me? Someone besides my parents must have known of my existence.” It was a pain that never healed, even though she thought it had been pushed into forgetfulness. Why couldn’t she forget the things she wanted to and remember what she wished she could?
“Maybe they tried.”
“Well, they obviously didn’t try hard enough.” She slipped past him to join Donny.
“It’s right here,” the boy said.
Victoria sucked in air to quench her anger and looked around. They stood on a slight slope that allowed them to see far to the west. “I can understand why your parents would come here. It’s lovely.”
“We sit there,” Donny pointed toward some trees.
Victoria followed him and parked herself where he indicated.
Reese followed more slowly and lowered the basket and the parcel to the ground. “Victoria, I did not mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”
She’d been trying hard to live fully the life she’d been given. To accept Reese’s interest even though she felt like she walked into the dark by doing so. She’d let herself think it was safe because he made her feel safe, and now he’d made it seem like it was only her imagination.
“Well you did. I’m not stuck.”
Except perhaps he was right. How could she not be? How could she have a future without a past? But discovering her past scared her so badly her mouth went dry. She would move on without a past. It was the only way. “I am Victoria Kinsley.”
He studied her, his eyes dark with something deep that she couldn’t understand.
“What else can I be?”
Chapter 9
Reese settled on the grass beside Victoria. He could not keep his secret forever, and yet he feared to tell her. She got upset every time he came close to the subject. But he’d ruined enough of the day and meant to turn the mood back to cheerful, even tender, as it had been in the house. If he could only think of a way.
Victoria opened the basket. Both Donny and Victoria looked at him.
“I’ll say grace.” He snatched off his hat and tossed it to one side then said a few words of thanks.
Victoria pulled out thick sandwiches and handed one to Donny and then to Reese and took one herself. She kept her gaze on the distant mountains.
He thought of a verse she had quoted on that earlier walk. “‘As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth even for ever.’ I remember you saying that verse to me.” He waited, chewing slowly, hoping she would forgive him for upsetting her.
“‘I will lift up mine eyes to the hills.’” Her voice was so low he leaned closer. She turned her face to him. She was mere inches away, close enough he could see a soft light in her eyes.
He knew before she smiled that she’d forgiven him. His heart threatened to burst from its moorings, and he ran a finger down her cheek. So soft. Like silk. “Thank you,” he murmured.
Her gaze held his in a warm lock. “For what?”
“For forgiving me for being so insensitive.” He drank in the sweetness of her eyes, the gentle curve of her mouth, and felt as if he had received a special blessing.
“Mama says I have to forgive.” Donny’s words ended the moment.
Reese looked to the child. “What do you have to forgive?”
“I have to forgive God for letting Papa die.” The boy’s voice quivered.
Victoria pulled him to sit between Reese and her. “Your mama is right. If we blame God for everything, we will end up a sorry mess.”
“Kind of seems He could have stopped it.”
“He could have, no doubt.”
“Then why He don’t?”
Reese waited for Victoria to answer the question.
“I don’t have an answer for that. I only know if I don’t believe in His love, that the world is a lonely, sad place.” She caught Donny’s chin and turned him to face her. “It’s like those mountains. They are big and beautiful. They don’t change. But there are days we can’t see them. Days of snow or fog or rain. Does that change the mountains?”
Donny shook his head. “They’re far away.”
“God isn’t though. He’s as close as our breath and the air around us.”
Donny considered it a moment. “Anyways, I forgive Him.” He grabbed a handful of cookies and trotted down the slope to a gopher hill where he squatte
d down and whistled softly, no doubt hoping to entice a gopher to poke its head out.
Reese and Victoria looked at each other and laughed.
He grabbed a pickle, then lay on his back, a hand behind his head. “The sun feels good.” He closed his eyes, the sun warm on his face, and turning the inside of his eyelids red.
An insect danced on his cheek and he swatted it away. It returned. He swatted again. And again. Only this time, Victoria’s giggle gave her away. When the annoyance came again, he grabbed her arm, putting her off balance. She fell over him.
Her grin turned into surprise as she lay with her elbows jabbing into his chest. Her eyes darkened to midnight blue. She held his gaze, searching, until he felt as if she’d plumbed the very depths of his heart. Everything in him wanted to open himself wide, but he couldn’t. He had a secret that lay between them as hard and unforgiving as a boulder.
A smile crept to her lips.
She tweaked his nose then pushed away, putting an arm’s length between them. She broke off a piece of cheese and chewed it slowly.
He sat up. Took another pickle and bit into its crispy flesh. “The boy has more patience than I expected.” Donny still sat by the gopher hole, waiting for a gopher to appear.
“Look,” Victoria whispered, and jabbed her finger to the left.
Reese chuckled softly. Two gophers perched on their back legs a distance away, watching Donny.
Donny sighed and pushed to his feet. The two gophers scampered into their holes. The boy wandered along the foot of the hill, kicking at the grass.
“Is he looking for something?” Victoria asked.
“I don’t know. Listen.”
They both strained to hear the boy.
“He’s singing.” Victoria smiled at Reese. “I’d say that was a good thing.”
Donny climbed the hill. “Can I have something more to eat?”
“Whatever you want.” Victoria pointed toward the basket and the brown-paper wrapped package that lay open beside it.
Donny tore off some bread, took a piece of cheese and a pickle. “I’m gonna look for bird nests.” He wandered into the trees along the side of the hill, looking upward for nests.