Beside Still Waters

by Tracey V. Bateman

  ISBN 1-59310-800-1

  BESIDE STILL WATERS

  Copyright © 2005 by Tracey V. Bateman. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Heartsong Presents, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

  one

  Spring 1880

  Eva’s chest swelled with exhilaration as Patches raced across the open field, his hooves throwing chunks of earth in his wake. Clinging to her beloved pinto’s neck, Eva tossed a delighted laugh into the dewy air. She’d been in such a hurry to greet the day that she hadn’t bothered to saddle or bridle her faithful friend. But she knew he didn’t mind. Patches looked forward to their morning runs as much as she did.

  The eastern sky exploded with orange, pink, and blue. Eva wished it were possible to ride straight into the horizon and lose herself in such beauty. A pity the earth was round. How wonderful might it be to ride clear to the edge of the world and stop just short of falling off?

  At eighteen years of age, Eva knew everyone expected her to stop her wild ways, find a nice young man, settle down, and raise a gaggle of babies. Hadn’t she received that sentiment from just about every dowager in town? The consensus of the Ladies’ Auxiliary of Hobbs, Oregon, seemed to be that time was passing her by.

  Eva wanted to settle down. Eventually. But so far, every time she thought she might be in love, her hopes had been dashed by some foolish act on the part of the young man who had looked so promising. She’d come close to the altar three times—and each time backed out just before making a dreadful, permanent mistake.

  Even Ma agreed with the townsfolk. If Eva didn’t accept one of her many proposals and actually go through with a marriage soon, she might as well take a teaching position somewhere and resign herself to spinsterhood. She shuddered at the thought. Not the spinster part, the teacher part. She’d tried teaching. Had lasted one week. How on earth could a person stay locked up inside all day, every day, when there was such a marvelous world outside just waiting to be admired and enjoyed?

  Ma didn’t understand, Eva’s sisters didn’t understand, none of the females she knew understood, except possibly Cousin Aimee, who had waited until she was twenty-seven years old before she married. Her wedding had taken place two years ago, and she was happier than any bride Eva had ever seen. So Eva saw no reason to rush. And with Pa on her side, she had at least two allies.

  By the time horse and rider reached the river, Eva’s heart was nearly bursting from her chest and Patches was slobbering like a rabid dog. The pony didn’t bother to stop at the water’s edge. Instead he walked right into the shallow water and dipped his neck.

  Eva laughed and gave him a pat. Her hand came away slick with his sweat. “I’m a bit parched myself, old boy. I suppose I could do with a handful of the river.” She swung her leg around, preparing to slide from the horse’s back, just as a massive, hairy dog darted into the water, nipping at Patches’s legs. The horse reared up, sending Eva splashing into the river.

  Patches landed and began running along the embankment. Eva sputtered in the two-foot-deep water, sitting back on her hands, her knees up, feet planted on the riverbed. “Wha—”

  The tail-wagging beast chased Patches a few yards upriver, then halted as a shrill whistle split the air.

  “Lord Byron,” a man’s voice commanded. “Get yourself back here.”

  Eva glanced up. Her heart picked up speed as long, muscled legs waded through the water. Eva looked up as the handsome stranger bent and extended a hand. Eva scooted away from him. How many times had Pa warned her not to be friendly with strange men? The dog reached them just then and gave her a wet lick up the entire length of her cheek.

  “Disgusting.” Eva wiped her face with the back of her hand and pushed at the dog with the other. His massive paw caught the gold locket around her neck and yanked it off. It landed in the water, and the river swept it downstream.

  “No!” Dread paralyzed her, and she remained where she sat. With a groan, she stared after her most precious possession.

  “Hold on, I’ll get it.” The stranger splashed through the water. “There it is.” He dove in and came up holding out a closed fist. “Got it!”

  Relief flooded her as she took the locket and held it close. “Thank you, sir. This was a gift from my pa the day I was baptized. I’ve had it since I was twelve.”

  He wrung out his shirt and swiped dark locks of hair back from his forehead. “My pleasure. And the least I could do since my dog is the one who caused the locket to come loose in the first place. Not to mention your current position in the river and scaring your horse away.”

  As if trying to make amends, the dog gave her another lick. “Oh, for pity’s sake.”

  “Get back, Lord Byron,” the stranger commanded. “I’m sorry about that crazy dog. Here, let me help you up.”

  “No thanks, I can do it myself. You just keep that beast of yours from knocking me down again.”

  He extended his hand anyway.

  “I mean it. I don’t accept aid from strange men. And if you come any closer, I’ll scream loud enough to make your ears bleed.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Ah, a spirited young miss,” he said in an English accent—obviously put on, since he’d spoken with a perfectly normal accent only seconds before. Something about his tone and the amusement sparkling in his deep blue eyes gave her the unsettling feeling that this man was making fun of her.

  As much as she wished to simply toss her head and refuse to speak to him, her curiosity got the better of her. “Where are you from?”

  “Texas.” His white-toothed smile dazzled in the morning sun.

  Eva sniffed. “Then why were you trying to sound like a foreigner?”

  “I was teasing. Sorry.” He rubbed his palm against his thigh, then reached down again. “Come on, let me help you up,” he said in a decidedly Texas drawl. Then he added, in that strange English accent, “I promise I’m not going to try anything, lest your scream cause my ears to run red with blood.”

  Was this man daft?

  Once more she spurned his help. She struggled to her feet, her face burning as she realized how awkward she must look trying to stand up in the water while maintaining her modesty.

  “Suit yourself,” he said. He saluted her, and she noticed that he held a book in his other hand. “Just trying to be mannerly, considering my beast is the one responsible for your precarious position.”

  There he went with that highfalutin talk again. It was enough to make her head spin. Still, as she stood in the shin-deep water, she took a moment to look him over. Broad chest, square jaw, and deep blue eyes that made her legs weak didn’t quite match up with a man given to books. Only weak men liked to read, in her experience. This fellow looked like a romantic hero described in the dime-store novels her best friend, Lily, liked to snatch from the shelves of her pa’s general store.

  He cleared his throat, and she realized she’d been staring. Heat spread across her cheeks.

  “I’ve never seen you around here before,” she said, wading past him toward the bank.

  He followed. “My family just settled here from Texas
last month. Bought a few acres just to the south.”

  Eva’s stomach dropped. What did he mean by “family”? Was he married with half a dozen children? Though she was dying to ask, she couldn’t drum up the courage. Instead she simply smiled. “The old Winston place. I’d heard they were selling, but I didn’t know anyone had bought it. They never were much to attend town functions or church.”

  She stepped up onto the bank. A beautiful chestnut mare, tied to a nearby tree, blinked at her. Eva turned and caught the stranger’s eye. “I haven’t seen you … or your, uh, wife at services.”

  “Haven’t left the house much. Still settling in. And I’m not married.” He winked, making Eva’s cheeks burn. “I suppose Ma’ll talk Pa into attending soon. She’s getting lonesome for Christian company.”

  “But not you?”

  He captured her gaze, as though he knew she thought him about the most magnificent-looking man she’d ever seen. Interest flickered in his eyes, or perhaps curiosity. But definitely something that went beyond mere politeness.

  Eva hurried to clarify. “I mean, for your soul’s sake, of course. You don’t want to stay out of church very long. Believe me, I know how easy it is to fall into sinful ways.”

  “I’m sure your sins were many and of the most sordid kind.” He made no effort to hide a grin.

  Why, he wasn’t a gentleman at all! Eva didn’t care how handsome he was. It was obvious this man had not been properly raised. “There are sins of the heart and mind just as there are actual hands-on sins. Didn’t you know that?”

  There. Turn the tables on him. Make him feel as though she thought him a complete idiot.

  Only he didn’t appear a bit shamed by her chastisement. His eyes crinkled with silent laughter. And then he winked.

  Oh my! Eva’s eyes widened, and a crushing retort danced on the tip of her tongue, but the stranger spoke up first.

  “And pray tell, what were these inward sins that blackened your heart against the goodness of God?” He pressed his hands to his chest in what Eva could only consider to be mockery.

  Anger, for instance, and mean thoughts. Not unlike those tainting her heart at this moment. But she had no intention of revealing such things to this man.

  “That is between myself and my Lord,” she fumed.

  “I can respect that.” His eyes sobered. “A person has a right to private thoughts.” He looked deep into her eyes, as though sharing a soul-changing moment.

  Confusion clouded Eva’s mind, along with the sudden, unsettling realization that she didn’t really know what he was talking about.

  She rarely took much time out for inner reflection beyond her time with God. She was who she was. She served God with the same gusto she did everything else. Her personal Bible times in the old gazebo Uncle Michael had built for Aunt Star deepened her love and faith. And at times, her soul flew away on the wings of praise.

  But she hated attending church. The confinement indoors, the drawn-out prayers and lengthy sermons that left her squirming on her seat until Ma’s scowling expression told her to be still.

  She never could quite understand why people felt they needed to erect a building to put God into anyway. As far as she was concerned, they should hold services outdoors, in the nature God had created, instead of in a stuffy building that was cold in the winter and stifling in the summer.

  Still, she felt it her duty as a Christian to inquire as to why this man hadn’t included himself when he said his ma and pa would most likely come to church.

  “I hope we see you at the service today,” she said softly. Which, judging from the placement of the sun in the sky, was set to begin in just a couple of hours.

  “Do you?” He smiled. Eva had to admit he could be charming when there was no mockery in his eyes.

  Still, his bold assumption that there was anything personal in the statement sent her defenses rising. “Of course I do. I’m concerned for anyone who doesn’t attend services on the Lord’s Day.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?” His lips twisted, and all the charm left his smile.

  Oh, he was baiting her. She recognized a teasing challenge. Didn’t she have two older brothers? She knew the best course of action would be to ignore his implication, yet she couldn’t help but allow her rising defenses a voice.

  Eva sniffed. “If you’re trying to imply that I have personal motives, then you’re sadly mistaken, Mr….” Eva searched her mind. She didn’t even know his name. Only an ill-bred man would allow this much time to pass without so much as offering his name and requesting hers.

  Perhaps he didn’t care to know her name. The thought grated.

  “Jones,” he supplied. “Benjamin Jones. But my friends call me Jonesy.”

  Eva felt his challenge. If she called him Jonesy, he would laugh at her assumption that he wanted to be her friend. “Well, Mr. Jones, there is nothing personal in my query. It was simply a Christian invitation for you to join our fellowship.”

  “Very well, Miss …” His brow rose, and his boyish grin melted Eva’s irritation.

  She smiled and held out her hand. “Riley. Eva Riley.”

  Instead of a polite shake, Jonesy lifted her hand and pressed warm lips to her fingers. She caught her breath and jerked back. “As I said, Mr. Jones, my query was not of a personal nature.”

  “Very well, Miss Riley. Although I must admit my pride is wounded.” His eyes continued to sparkle in amusement. “I suppose it’s just as well you hold no personal interest,” he said boldly. “I’m only staying in Oregon long enough to help Pa get the farm producing. Then I’m going back to Texas to start my own ranch.”

  Eva ignored the sudden disappointment pinching her insides because he wouldn’t be around long enough for her to really get to know him. Honestly, men and their land. What difference did it make? All she needed was a wide-open space to run Patches.

  Patches! At the thought of her companion, she looked about, searching for any sign that he’d come back. That wretch of a horse had run off and left her at the mercy of a strange man and his overgrown beast. Home was a good five miles away. And she didn’t relish the walk. Ma would skin her alive for being late to breakfast. Especially on the Lord’s Day.

  Patches would certainly not be receiving a sugar treat today. The coward.

  “I suppose I should be going home,” she announced. “I’m sure my horse will arrive there soon and everyone will worry.” She pushed damp curls from her cheeks and nodded to the handsome stranger.

  She could only imagine what she must look like. She hadn’t even taken time to braid her hair this morning but had merely tied it back with a ribbon—which now floated down the river. “Good day, Mr. Jones. It was … interesting meeting you.”

  Jonesy. She liked how it sounded in her mind. The name suited his rugged looks. Scratchy stubble lined his jaw. Some men might have appeared unkempt without a full beard or a clean-shaven face, but not this one. His deep blue eyes and thick dark hair caused Eva to swallow hard. Wait until she told Lily.

  “It was lovely meeting you, Miss Riley. I’m sorry about my dog. I’m afraid Lord Byron is rather short on manners.”

  “Why do you call your dog Lord Byron?”

  A chuckle rumbled in his chest as he dropped to the ground and removed his boots. “Simple. He likes to sit and listen to me read the poetry of Lord Byron.” He turned his boot upside down. Water poured out.

  Poetry? Eva couldn’t abide poetry. Mooning men and women extolling their true loves. It made her positively ill. She’d rather read a dime-store novel. At least those were entertaining.

  Eva’s soaked skirt was cooling off with the early morning breeze, and she shivered. “Well, good day.”

  “How far are you from home?”

  She waved her hand in front of her. “Only about five miles. I can walk it in no time.”

  “It would be my honor to escort you home on Lady Anne.” He cocked his head. “I named her after Lord Byron’s wife.”

  Eva smirked. �
�Does she also enjoy poetry?”

  “Naturally. She thinks I’m reading about her beauty.” He pressed his index finger lightly to his lips. “Don’t speak too loud; she might overhear. I don’t want to insult her. She’s quite vain.”

  “You have my word; she will never hear from my lips that she isn’t the subject of the poems.”

  Jonesy pressed his hand to his heart and gave an exaggerated bow. “Thank you, kind lady. I am forever in your debt. Therefore, you must allow me to give you a ride home on the back of my horse.”

  The thought of riding so close to him sent a wave of heat to her stomach. Ma wouldn’t approve.

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t accept, though it was kind of you to offer.”

  “I understand. It might not be proper.” He frowned in thought. “Then you must take my horse.”

  A gasp escaped her throat. “Why, I can’t do that. How will you get home?”

  “The same way you planned to. The two strong legs God bestowed upon me.”

  “So you do believe in God.”

  “Never said I didn’t.”

  He made her positively dizzy. “Regardless, I can’t take your horse.”

  “I live less than a mile from here. It only makes sense.”

  Eva narrowed her gaze. “Not to me, it doesn’t. It’s your horse. Mine ran off. You’ve no obligation to see me home. I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m walking home. If you don’t take Lady Anne, she will feel abandoned and may never recover from the tragedy.”

  “Why should that matter to me? She’s your horse.” Eva shrugged and turned to go, but her conscience got the better of her. “I wouldn’t leave her alone if I were you. There’s been some horse thieving going on in these parts lately. Your lovely mare probably wouldn’t be here when you got back.”

  His brow went up, and Eva noted a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. It left as quickly as it had come. He shrugged. “I suppose that’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

  He was bluffing. Eva knew he must be. “Suit yourself.” Her shoulders squared, she turned and began walking toward home, sufficiently confident that she’d won the battle.