Robin

by Julane Hiebert

  “Did you see how he looked at her, Emma?”

  “I did. I also saw him looking at you. And girl, what I saw in that man’s eyes . . .”

  “Pity, Emma. Pure, plain pity. He feels sorry for a poor crippled girl who wears clothes someone bought for her, living with a relative to earn enough money to pay off her papa’s debts and playing mama when he knows she’ll never have the opportunity to ever become one. That’s what you saw.” She swiped at her tears.

  Emma cupped her hands around Robin’s face. “Now you listen to me. You’re as sweet as they come, but you might as well be living in the middle of a thorny bush. You’ve built a wall around you full of sharp things—pride and presumption—then you defy anyone entrance."

  Robin stared, her mouth agape, at the older woman.

  “Oh, Robin . . . shutting people out will only keep you alone, not safe. A turtle hides in his hard shell when he senses danger, but it doesn’t keep a wagon wheel from crushing him. If he’d face the foe and move on, he might could save himself a whole lot of hurt.”

  “You think I was wrong to leave the service? That’s moving on, isn’t it?”

  “No. That’s running away. You move on when you acknowledge who or what is blocking the road, and you find a way around it.”

  “Who is this Anna Blair?”

  Emma raised an eyebrow. “Do you consider her an enemy or a roadblock?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe both. Did she and Ty have––an agreement?”

  “I’m not going to answer that. You can talk to Ty about it if it’s that important to you, but I’ll not say anything.”

  Robin picked at her fingernails. “Is it a secret?”

  “Not at all. But the two of you need to be talking, Robin. I won’t fill your head with stuff only Ty has the right to tell you. Now, I suggest you dust Jacob off, wipe the tears off your face and get ready to finish the morning. If truth be known, I suspect Ty’s as worried about you and Albert Harvey as you are about Anna Blair.”

  “Did you help Albert choose his necktie?” Robin grinned.

  Emma’s eyes twinkled. “I sure did. Like it, did you?”

  “It’s awful.” Robin kissed Emma’s cheek. “How will I ever face all those people again? Papa always told me I act before I think most of the time.”

  “You did nothing wrong, Robin. You were a bit hasty perhaps, but nothing to be ashamed of. You wipe your eyes, straighten your shoulders, and smile at everyone you meet. Now, help me off this log and I’ll go with you.”

  Robin hooked her arm in Emma’s as they sauntered to John’s buggy. “I don’t think Mrs. Harvey likes Jacob. And probably doesn’t have much regard for me now.”

  Emma smiled. “Henrietta’s awkward with kids. I don’t think she even liked Albert much until he got old enough to know when to speak and when to keep his mouth shut. Mostly he keeps it shut now that Herman is gone. Strange family, but Henrietta means well.”

  “She’s very proud of him. You should have heard her bragging.”

  “He’s all she has. I think if Jacob ever wrapped his little skinny arms around her soft neck she’d melt like butter on a hotcake.”

  “What do you think Uncle John will say about my leaving the service?”

  Emma put her arm around her shoulders and nodded toward the church. “I have an idea you’ll find the answer soon enough. They’re singing the benediction.”

  “Jacob?” Robin scanned the area for the boy. “Jacob? Where did you go?”

  “I’m up here.”

  She followed his voice and spied him perched on a branch much higher than she could reach. “Jacob, however did you get up there?”

  “I climbed up, but I don’t know how to climb backward. Maybe Ty can catch me.”

  “We’re not going to bother Ty, but here comes Mr. Harvey. Perhaps he can help.”

  Albert was headed across the churchyard, but before he could reach them Jacob had shinnied down the tree. He grabbed Robin’s hand and held so tight it hurt.

  “Thought you didn’t know how to climb backward.” She brushed at his shirt with her free hand. She’d have to remember white shirts and little boys weren’t a good match.

  “I didn’t want Mr. Harvey to catch me.”

  Robin smiled and squeezed the boy’s hand. She understood. She didn’t want Albert to catch her either.

  EIGHT

  Ty hurried to the privacy of the church’s small cloakroom, sat on the floor, and leaned against the wall. Under different circumstances he would be at the door, shaking hands, greeting each of his friends and neighbors as they made their way out of the church. But he couldn’t have put two more words together in a sensible fashion. Only God knew what he managed to utter from the pulpit after Anna made her way to the front—and Robin exited.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Anna had whispered when she clasped his hands before singing.

  Why had she chosen now to come back? A year ago she’d vowed never to return. He’d only recently made peace with that choice. He slammed both hands on the floor and welcomed the accompanying sting. At least his body wasn’t as numb as his mind.

  “You in here, Ty?” John propped his shoulder against the doorframe. “Hidin’ away, ain’t ya?”

  Ty shrugged. “Unfortunately there wasn’t a crack big enough for me to fall through. Yeah, I’m hiding. What would you do?”

  John sat beside Ty. “Can’t tell ya what I might do in a situation like you’re in. Never had me any woman worries. But I reckon hunkered down here in the cloakroom ain’t gonna solve anything, now is it?”

  “Is Robin still here . . . somewhere?” Ty wiped his forehead.

  “Don’t rightly know, but Emma followed her out, so I’m guessin’ she’ll take care of things. Did you ever tell her about Anna or that you were the preacher?”

  Ty shook his head. “I wanted to tell her. But any talk of God and she recoiled like a wounded animal. And every time I tried to tell her about Anna, Jacob would find a way to interrupt. I tell you, the kid’s timing is profound.”

  “Looks like ya could’ve found some time these past couple of weeks. Jacob weren’t talkin’ the whole time, was he?”

  “What would you have me say, John?” He cleared his throat and made a grand sweep with his arm. “Oh, by the way, missy, my first and only love walked out on me last year—and oh, yeah, I’m the preacher man in this territory, so you better watch out.”

  John gave a wry smile. “No, don’t reckon that was necessary. But you had to have done some thinkin’ on the fact she were new to these parts. First off, Henrietta done pounced on her like a cat on a rat. Jacob had Henrietta in a frazzle—”

  “You and I both know it doesn’t take much to put Henrietta Harvey in a frazzle.”

  “Shore. We knows it, but that little gal don’t. Then Florence Blair and her daughter come prancin’ in, then—”

  “You don’t need to go into detail.” Ty rubbed his temples. “I was there, you know.”

  “Well, nobody would a knowed it. You stood there with your mouth hangin’ open like a barn door somebody forgot to shut. Ya should’ve stopped Henrietta when she got up yammerin’ about lettin’ Anna sing and all.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Trying to stop Henrietta from talking is like trying to stop the wind from blowing. You know that. I had no idea Anna would ever show up in this church again, John. Did you know she was back?”

  John hung his head. “I heard tell she was a comin’.”

  “You knew?” Ty leaped to his feet. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me? Why? You had to know, especially with Robin here, what this might mean.”

  John stood, too. “Henrietta told me she wanted to surprise you. Said I weren’t to tell you.”

  “And you listened to her? You and Henrietta tangle every time you’re within shouting distance of one another. Why in the world would you buckle under for something like this?”

  “I didn’t want Robin to suffer no more’n she already has. I seed she was gett
in’ right fond of havin’ you around.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt her for anything, John. You know that, don’t you?”

  John shook his head. “Don’t make no difference what I know. It’s Robin you need to be talkin’ to about such things. Lest ya forget, there’s a little boy involved, and I ain’t about to let him get caught up in another storm. And mind you, young man, there surely is one brewin’ or I don’t know my name.”

  Ty reached for the older man’s hand. “Put in a good word for me with your niece, will you?”

  “Nope. Any good word is gonna be comin’ from you, I reckon. You take some time to think about it, then you come walkin’ outta here like a man.” John clapped him on the shoulder and strode away.

  Ty waited until John left, then walked into the sanctuary. He knelt and leaned his head against the apron of the small square table used as the altar. “Lord, what is it you want of me?”

  “I know what I want of you, Ty.”

  Anna. Had she been there the whole time? For a moment the old excitement of hearing her voice surged through his veins. Then the memory of their last minutes together raised its ugly head, and his shoulders tightened. He turned to her. “Do you, Anna? We’ve had this conversation before, you know.”

  Anna knelt at the altar beside him. “I was wrong and I’m so sorry.” She reached for his hand.

  The ring on her finger caught his eye. “Why do you still wear the ring, Anna?”

  “You said you didn’t want it back, remember?” Anna twisted the piece of jewelry. “I tried to give it to you, but you wouldn’t take it.”

  “If I remember correctly, the last time I saw that ring you’d sent it flying across the prairie. It wasn’t like it meant anything to you. How’d you ever find it?”

  “Mother paid the Johnson boy to look for it. She knew there would come a day we would both regret our foolish actions.”

  Ty stood. “Our foolish actions, Anna?” He clenched his jaw.

  Anna bowed her head. “Sometimes a person has to make a terrible decision before they recognize how bad they are at making a good one.”

  “This is no time to try to make up for a year’s absence, Anna. If you’ll excuse me—”

  “Is someone waiting for you? I noticed John Wenghold sitting in his buggy with that young lady and her child, but they left when I told them Mother was expecting us. She fixed your favorite—fried chicken. You will see me home, won’t you?”

  Ty rubbed the kinks in his neck.

  She hooked her arm in his and laid her head on his shoulder. “I don’t like your hesitation, Ty Morgan. It isn’t at all like I imagined it would be when you saw me again. Is there someone else?”

  Was there? He couldn’t answer.

  Her brow furrowed. “Your silence tells me something I don’t care to hear. Is it that niece of John Wenghold’s? And her child?”

  Ty led her to the front pew and motioned for her to sit. “I’m not sure why I need to explain anything to you, Anna—especially my relationship with Robin Wenghold—but to quiet any suspicion you might have, you need to listen.”

  He told her briefly about meeting Robin and finding Jacob. Anna’s eyes brimmed with tears.

  When he finished his story, she swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I must say I’m most relieved. For a moment I worried you had forgotten our engagement. I know now that it’s only your ill-conceived sense of duty as a pastor I observed.” She kissed his cheek. “Mother will wonder what’s keeping us.”

  His ill-conceived sense of duty? Is that what attracted him to Robin? Not her gentleness with a child? Not her spunk with an old man? She wasn’t beautiful like Anna. She couldn’t glide in step with his. Would she even be able to stroll along the banks of Pigeon Creek without tiring? Or climb to the top of Morgan Hill to watch the sun set?

  But this beauty standing in front of him was not the Anna he’d known—the Anna who claimed preaching to be God’s highest calling. That Anna would have begged to take in the boy herself. And Ty’s so-called ill-conceived sense of duty was the very thing she’d encouraged.You’re their shepherd, Ty. You must care for them.

  He frowned as she tugged on his hands, her full lips—lips so freely given in the past—only inches from his.

  ###

  Lunch with Anna and her mother proved awkward. Even the gracious Florence Blair seemed tense with her daughter’s constant rehearsal of plans for him. They would marry and return to Philadelphia. If he insisted on preaching there were a number of good churches. He could always find employment at a bank. What a shame to spend the rest of his life herding cattle and battling the elements.

  Whatever happened to their dreams for the Hawk? They would fill the spacious house with children. It would be a place of rest and refuge for any weary soul passing their way.

  Later, as Ty rode toward John’s ranch, lightning flashed behind the hills. He wanted to get there before dark, but an occasional roll of thunder warned of a gathering storm. He reined Tag to a halt and dismounted at the edge of Pigeon Creek. A blacksnake slithered from the bank and skimmed silently across the water. Overhead crows cawed a warning, though he wasn’t sure if it was him or the reptile they didn’t want in their domain. Mere humans should be so accommodating. Having two women like Robin and Anna in the vicinity was certainly cause for alarm.

  He squatted at the edge of the creek and splashed cool water on his face. Anna’s reason for leaving remained a mystery. Her return baffled him even more.

  Robin’s arrival had filled a void he refused to acknowledge. Her leaving . . . He shook his head. What would her leaving do? If only he could talk with his ma again.

  Thunder grew more persistent and a bank of darkening clouds slipped over the ridge of the hill. He reached for Tag’s reins. No matter the cost, he would ride to the Feather and pay his dues.

  The big gelding stepped sideways as Ty put his foot in the stirrup. “Hold still, fella. This is no time for games. We need to get to the Feather before this storm hits.” He patted the horse’s neck and swung into the saddle. Tag nickered and threw his head. “Yep, gonna let you run for a while at least.” Ty squeezed his knees, and the animal lunged forward then settled into long, easy strides.

  When they reached the summit of the hill the horse threw his head and humped his back, but Ty managed to keep his seat. A haze of smoke blanketed the valley floor. A lone rider sat atop his horse at the edge of the timber. Ty dismounted and laid his hand across Tag’s nose. “Shh, old man.” He nudged his shoulder against the horse to move him back behind the crest of the hill then hunkered down on his haunches to observe.

  When the storm and the gathering darkness edged close enough to hinder his watch, Ty mounted Tag, determined to approach the stranger. Not only should he warn the man about the coming storm, but he also didn’t like the idea of anyone camped so close to the Feather.

  The man’s horse stood a distance away, ground-tied. A small coffeepot sat on the embers of a dying fire.

  “Hello, the camp,” Ty shouted, staying mounted.

  The stranger jumped to his feet, his hat tumbling to the ground. “Who’s there? I ain’t meanin’ no trouble, whoever you are.”

  “I’m not going to give you trouble, mister. Just want to ask you a few questions.” Ty rode in, one hand on the lariat looped across his saddle horn, the other reining Tag who pranced and threw his head.

  “I ain’t wanted for nothing, if that’s what ya need to know.” The man reached for his fallen hat, his gaze locked on Ty. “Any law says a man can’t camp out along this creek?” He plunked the hat on his head and widened his stance.

  “No law, but if it’s shelter you’re needing, there’s a ranch not two miles away. Looks like a storm might be pushing our direction. Under this stand of trees is no place to bed down for the night. Ever ride out a Kansas thunderstorm?”

  “Been in plenty of storms. Thought the trees would give more protection than the open prairie.” The stranger stood with both arms loose at
his sides.

  The stance of a gunfighter. Yet he wore no guns. Ty made a mental note. Could just be a fella down on his luck. “Trees draw lightning. Best place would be in a cave, though in these parts you take a chance of having a rattler for a neighbor should you choose to go that route.” Ty smiled. The man appeared to be about his own age, tall, slim hipped with a slight bow to his legs, as if he’d spent more than one day on the back of a horse.

  The stranger’s green eyes followed Ty’s every movement.

  “You passing through, or looking for work?” He admired a man that eyed you straight on.

  “Work, if I can find it.”

  Ty loosened his grip on his lariat and extended his hand. As he did, the fella slapped his thigh, as though drawing a gun, then shook his head. “Well, mister, I guess you might wonder about that dumb move.” He wiped his hands on his britches.

  Ty dismounted. “My name’s Ty Morgan, and I’d be obliged if you gave me something to call you.

  “Sam Mason.” He reached for Ty’s hand.

  “That your real name? I’ll forgive the act of drawing on me, but I’m not so quick to overlook a man who lies.”

  The stranger nodded. “My real name.”

  “Then I’ll shake with you. You ever work on a ranch, Sam?”

  “Here and there. Was hopin’ to get a place of my own someday.” He wiped his hand across his face.

  “Something happen to stop you?”

  He shrugged. “Guess you could say I up and got homesick. My ma died when I was just a sprout. Got me a sister and pa in Missouri. That’s where I come from.”

  “I surely could use some of that coffee if you could spare it.” Ty squatted by the fire.

  Sam handed him a cup of the dark brew. “Sorry, only got one cup. Got a couple of biscuits in my saddlebags.”

  Ty waved off the offer. Thunder grew more persistent and lightning streaked from cloud to cloud. He took a swig and handed the cup back to the young man. “Tell you what, Sam—you put together your belongings and come with me. We’ll head for that ranch I mentioned.