* * *
Aaron entered the cabin and glanced at Fergus. His head down, and eyes closed, he sat with his open Bible in his lap. He must’ve fallen asleep while reading or praying. Aaron kept his movements quiet and hung his coat.
Fergus roused in his chair and gave a lazy stretch. “Horses okay?”
Aaron nodded and stood at the stove, pouring himself a mug of coffee. He gestured at a covered pot on the stovetop, little threads of steam puffing out from under the lid. “What’s in there?”
“Beans and bacon. Should be done in a few hours.”
Aaron sat, inhaling the coffee’s aroma, trying to keep his leg from tapping. Fergus narrowed his eyes at him. “Out with it. Something besides this dang storm is wearing on you.”
Irritation bubbled up. “Guess that’s my look-out.”
Fergus remained silent, studying him. He closed his Bible and set it on the table next to him. He stood and fetched a cup of coffee before sitting again. “I know it’s your look-out, but it gets to be mine, too when I hear you’re punching men on the street and people need to bring you home drunk.”
Fergus set his cup down and let out a breath. “It’s happened enough times now that I’ve got to say something. You know how I feel about fisticuffs and drinking.”
His jaw clenched, Aaron fought down anger. “I do my job, don’t I? I don’t cause any trouble here, either. You always said a hired hand’s free time belongs to him.”
“Look here. I don’t see you as just a hired hand. You ought to know that by now.” His voice softened. “Why don’t you tell me what’s gnawing at you?”
The caring tone spelled danger, and Aaron’s tension spiked. He set his cup down and stood, pivoting to the window, his back to Fergus. “It’s nothing anyone needs to hear.”
“Well, have you spoken to God about it, then?”
Aaron shook his head. “Why would I? He knows already. And He won’t want to hear from me, anyway.”
“And why would that be?”
Aaron whipped around. “Quit digging at me.”
“No.”
Aaron slammed a fist onto his other palm. “You’ve got no right to question me.”
Fergus rose, his eyes alight. “I say I do. What’s wrong with you?” He crossed his arms, his feet planted in a firm stance. “We’ve got nothing to do and nowhere to go, so let’s have it.”
The trapped sensation threatened to overwhelm him, bringing the out-of-control surge that always frightened him with its intensity. He headed toward the door. Fergus’s strong hand grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt and Aaron turned and took a wild swing at him. Fergus ducked and pulled Aaron into a hammer-lock.
While Aaron bucked and struggled, Fergus held tight, meeting every move of Aaron’s with a swift counter-move, staying on his feet and in control.
Fergus grunted and said, “You’ve seen me break horses wilder than you. Calm down, boy.”
Everything in Aaron wanted to bust loose, and the strength of his desperation fueled his continued struggling. Sweat broke out on his forehead while he thrashed against the iron grip of Fergus. The man was smaller than he was. Why couldn’t he get free?
He let fly a string of curses punctuated with panting while he tried falling backward on Fergus. If he managed to put him onto the floor, he’d be free. He dug in his heels and pushed back hard.
“Nice try,” Fergus rasped, tightening his hold. “Let me know when you’re done fighting.”
After some more furious but futile thrashes, Aaron’s will sagged. He didn’t want to fight with Fergus. He only wanted to escape.
Following a short but complete lull in the struggle, Fergus released him. “Let’s sit down, son. No harm done.”
Aaron stepped to a chair and lowered himself, rubbing his neck. “You ought to sock me.”
Fergus chuckled. “I considered it.” He rubbed his wrists and regarded Aaron. “Talk to me, son.”
Son.
If only he were his son. The thought of his own harsh father brought the usual stab of resentment. If he’d taken a swing at his father, the man would’ve pummeled him to a pulp. Probably kicked and stomped him while he lay there, too.
Aaron shook his head. “I don’t think I can.”
“I know you’re not much for talking, but try. I’m listening. Tell me why you said God doesn’t want to hear from you.”
His gut clenched.
Not that.
He stared at Fergus, unable to imagine how to begin.
Fergus leaned forward. “It’s the War, isn’t it? You’re not the only man to come out of that with damage. I’m thankful my boys were too young to go.” He sighed. “Maybe that sounds like I’m short on patriotism, but we Irish have been forced into plenty of wars that made no sense. I’m thinking it’ll always be that way in Europe. I didn’t expect it here, though.”
Aaron closed his eyes. How many years needed to pass before the memories stopped torturing him? Maybe if he let it out… But how? He looked at Fergus, whose patient, expectant face gave him a shot of courage.
His voice came out strained and he forced the words. “I did something. Something unforgiveable.”
Fergus waited, his eyes trained on Aaron.
Aaron shifted, trying to ease the tension in his middle. Perhaps if he said it fast, all at once, it wouldn’t be so hard. “Some of the men said they heard a fellow calling for help just past our trench. It was night…cold, and they figured to go get him quick while he was still alive. There was enough moonlight to see, and they wanted to go.”
Aaron dropped his gaze to the floor. “I told them we should wait for the lieutenant. I had a sick feeling about it, thought it was a trick to get us in the open. But they wouldn’t wait. Said it wasn’t right. I couldn’t stop them.” He squeezed his mind shut against the memory of the freezing, stinking trench, the fear that gripped his limbs and made him slow to follow.
“I was back a ways, crouching after them, and the gunfire started. A bullet hit me in the shoulder. I pointed my gun toward the flashes and crawled toward my buddies.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “They were all bloody and gunshot when I got to them, dead or dying. A German was on his knees nearby. I could see he was hit, too.”
Aaron swallowed and pushed the words past the knot in his throat. “He saw me. Dropped his gun. I didn’t wait to see if he’d raise his hands… I shot him. Emptied my pistol in him. I wanted him dead, and I murdered him.”
After a space of silence, Fergus said, “I’m sorry, boy. Is this what you see as unforgiveable?”
He lifted his head. “Of course I do. If I hadn’t been scared, I’d have been right there with my buddies. Maybe helped, or at least died with them. And that German. He dropped his gun. He was wounded. But that wasn’t enough for me. I hated him for tricking us. I didn’t want to let him surrender. I killed him, even though I knew he would have raised his hands.” Aaron stared past Fergus, his mind full of the images. “Now, his blood is on my hands.”
Fergus rose and stood next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “There’s only one way out of this. You’ve got to go to God with it.”
Aaron shook his head. “I can’t. Maybe my being afraid, I could bring that to God. But I killed someone on purpose. And I wasn’t sorry. I’m not sure if I had to do it over, if I’d do any different. I figured he deserved it. God can’t forgive me for that, and I don’t expect Him to.”
Fergus breathed out a heavy sigh and returned to his chair. “I wish I could help you with this, but I don’t know if I can. I’ve never been to war.”
“Doesn’t matter. Everybody knows the difference between combat and murder. And if somebody surrenders, you don’t shoot them.”
“But if he’d aimed at you, and you shot him, he’d be dead just the same, wouldn’t he?”
Aaron stood and began pacing. “Yes, but that’s not how it happened. If I shot him in defending myself—but I didn’t. Don’t try to make it different than it is.”
&n
bsp; “I’m not. I’m just trying to find a way for you to find peace, to reconcile with your Maker. I want to help.”
Nobody could. He already knew that. He sank back onto his chair. “I don’t guess you feel the same about me anymore.”
Fergus shook his head, eyes sorrowful. “No, I don’t. I feel awful bad for you now. But I don’t think less of you. I know the sort of man you are, Aaron.”
Tears threatened, and he pushed them back. What kind of man was he? He’d never wanted to resemble his father in any way, but what he’d done sounded more like his father than the person Aaron always tried to be.
If he could only see himself the way Fergus did. But Fergus hadn’t been there. Didn’t view the depth of his fear and the satisfaction he got from shooting the German soldier. No, he’d have to bear his sins and go on somehow. Carrying the load.
Chapter Nine
“You and Bessie are getting to be pals, aren’t you?”
Kay nodded to Phil while she kept her eyes on finishing the last buttonhole of Eddie’s latest shirt. “She says I’m a natural on a horse. Bet you’re surprised.”
“No, I’m not. I always tell you to try things. I know how determined you are once you start a task. You’ve always been like that.”
She gazed over at him, needle poised. “Really? Hmmm.”
He grinned. “You usually do well when you put your mind to something.”
She grimaced. “Except with cooking.”
They shared a laugh, and Phil said, “Elliot told me it made life interesting, coming home to see what recipe you’d tried that day.”
She giggled. “What a brave fellow he was. He always tasted everything, even if it smelled terrible.”
“He said he considered hiding the spices because you used way too much, but once you figured that out, your food was so overcooked and bland, he almost missed the spices.”
“He never told me that.”
Philip’s expression of amusement softened into affection. “He didn’t want to discourage you.”
Oh, Elliot. What a prize you were.
She held down a twinge of sorrow and returned her focus to the buttonhole, taking in several deep breaths.
Maddie breezed in from the back room and deposited a newspaper on the counter. “You know, we should think about getting a radio in here. It would be nice to listen to some of the new programs coming out.”
Philip shook his head and picked up the paper. “It’s too much of a waste of time trying to get a station. Then it always fades out or comes back in too loud. All that adjusting. I don’t have the patience for it.”
“Well, I do.” Maddie scowled at him. “Romayne says the newer radios are easier to use. She and Patrick listen to programs from Portland almost every night.”
Phil stopped glancing at the newspaper and brought his attention to Maddie. “I still say radios are a waste of time. People ought to keep busy with their own tasks. There’s plenty enough to do every day without trying to grab hold of some radio signal. And Father always said reading was the best way to improve yourself.”
Maddie crossed her arms. “I’m not talking about improving myself. And I can do plenty of mending or quilting and still listen to the radio.”
A charged silence followed while Maddie continued to stand, her posture resolute as she stared at Philip. He glanced upward as if beseeching heaven and let out a sigh. “Fine, my dear. I’ll think about it.”
Maddie grinned and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek before returning to the kitchen.
Kay chuckled. “Bet she’ll make you a pie or something. To help you think about it.”
“I suppose there are good things about having a radio, but I don’t know. The noise of the world wearies me sometimes. I like the slower pace out here, and the quiet.”
“It is nice, but just because you have a radio doesn’t mean you need to use it a lot.” Kay knotted the thread and tied it off, admiring the finished buttonhole. “It would be nice to have, especially in the winter when we’re shut in so much.”
Philip stared out the front window. “I guess. But part of why I love winter is the silence. Sometimes, I stand outside while the snow falls, and the stillness fills me up in a way I can’t explain.”
Kay flashed him a smile. “I know what you mean.”
Aaron entered, and a swirl of fresh cold air traveled the room before he closed the door. Kay kept her eyes down while quick tension sped up her breathing.
Philip laid his hands on the counter and gave Aaron a hearty grin. “Hello there, Aaron. How are you today?”
Aaron touched a finger to his hat brim and dipped his head. “Tolerable. Stopped by to let you know Fergus says he’s holding a political meeting at his place tonight. He asked if you could come, and Romayne wants to know if Kay—uh…Katherine and Madeline could visit with her and Megan while you’re there. Says there’s a radio program she wants the girls to listen to with her.”
Philip and Kay erupted into simultaneous laughter, and Aaron’s brows lifted. “Did I say something funny?”
Phil said, “It’s funny because we were just speaking about whether or not to get a radio.”
“Oh.” Aaron darted a glance at Kay, and she held it. How attractive he was. Every time she saw him now, his appearance affected her with more impact. She experienced increasing fascination until even slight eye contact created a physical response. Fast heart rate, breathing, and the threat of blushing assaulted her at his presence. Shouldn’t she be past such reactions, given her age and experiences?
She dropped her gaze. She’d better learn to mask her emotions. Aaron didn’t seem to share her condition, other than maybe the few long looks he’d exchanged with her and that comforting embrace at the reception. But no overtures otherwise. He seemed content to keep his distance. But what about the time he started to say something and stopped when Phil came in? No, he’d have said or done something by now if he’d really wanted to talk to her.
Phil’s voice interrupted her tumbling thoughts. “So, Aaron, will you be there, too?”
“Not sure. I’m not much for politics.”
“Really? I thought maybe after the other day…” He glanced at Kay. “Well, anyway, tell Fergus we’d be glad to come. I can speak for Maddie, but how about you, Katherine? Want to go?”
She affected a light tone and made herself busy at her desk. “Sure. I’d like that.”
“All right, then. Tell Fergus we’ll be there after supper tonight.”
Aaron tipped his hat, gave Kay a quick nod, and left.
Kay tilted her head at Philip. “What did you mean by ‘the other day?’ Was it when Aaron punched that man?”
“Thought I told you to ask Aaron about it.”
She grimaced at him. “Right. Ask Aaron. As if he’d answer me.”
Phil’s voice came out smooth and amused. “Oh, I think he would.”
Puzzled at his odd tone, she looked up to meet his studying expression. When she drew her brows together at him, he laughed.
Honestly, men could be so confusing.
* * *
Kay and Maddie settled themselves on a couch in Romayne’s cozy sitting room. The log walls held many stitched samplers and some paintings, while framed family pictures lined the stone mantel above a lively fire.
Megan bustled in, carrying a tray, with Romayne behind her holding a platter of cookies and biscuits. Megan sat down, set the tray on a table, smiled at them, and held up the coffeepot. “Who wants some? Chase away the chill from your ride here.”
Both Maddie and Kay gave emphatic nods. Even though their old Ford had decent windows, the ride was still a frigid one while they jounced over the ruts in the road to Fergus’s ranch. It always took Kay a few moments of sitting inside to get the jarring feel of the trip out of her bones.
Romayne passed the platter and Kay chose two chocolate spritz cookies and a biscuit dotted with raisins and cinnamon. Romayne made her choices, then popped up and darted over to the radio sitting on a table
nearby.
“It’s all warmed up, and there’s going to be a variety show on tonight. There’s supposed to be some music, and a short play, too, maybe some poetry or some funny jokes. We’ll see.”
She adjusted the dials while the radio emitted various bursts of static or distant strains of music or voices. “Drat, I lost it,” Romayne exclaimed.
Kay bit into the crisp sweetness of one of her cookies and marveled at the cunning design of the radio. How amazing it was to hear sounds from many miles away, right in this room in rural Oregon.
A sharp knock sounded and Romayne left the radio and scooted to the front door. “Oh, hi, Aaron.”
Kay’s nerves tingled at the sound of his name. She resisted the urge to turn and gaze at him and held her coffee cup steady instead, keeping her head forward.
His boots sounded on the wooden floor as he walked into the room and tipped his hat at the women. “Patrick sent me to make sure your radio grabbed hold of the signal.”
Romayne smiled and sat down. “Well, that was thoughtful. I thought I almost had it, but you go ahead.”
Aaron hunkered next to the radio, making slow adjustments while the women conversed. Every time Kay allowed her vision to stray to him, she met his eyes and held them for a brief moment before one of them looked away. The odd visual dance continued for long moments, each connected gaze forging an increasingly intimate connection between them that blazed warmth inside Kay. He must be feeling what she was. The expression in his eyes seemed to say it. And the way he held her gaze with such purpose…as though he were taking the measure of her, inviting her closer.
The women’s chatting stopped abruptly when the clear strains of a Beethoven piano sonata filled the air.
“You got it! Thank you, Aaron.” Romayne beamed at him.
Aaron rose, touched the brim of his hat, sent another quick glance at Kay, and left. It took Kay long moments to settle down again. Though the music was lovely, she hardly heard it until her breathing returned to normal again. What had just happened?
Her eyes stared at the ceiling as the music took over the room, and she let herself relax into its beauty. She experienced a river of emotions as the radio show continued. Exalted by Aaron’s presence, then by the music, and entertained by comedy and drama offerings, she waited as long as she could to excuse herself to use the outhouse.
Hat's Off! (Christmas Holiday Extravaganza) Page 5
