by Carol Cox
The ranch house was made up of four wings forming a hollow square. The center of the square was the courtyard, which had always been Lizzie’s special haven.
Tonight she crept across the patio, its flagstones still warm from the day’s heat, and picked her way to the enormous cottonwood tree that stood sentry in the courtyard’s center. Seating herself on the bench that encircled the trunk, she drew her knees up under her chin and leaned back against the rough bark. She tilted her head upward, gazing in delight at the stars overhead.
There they were—the North Star, the Big Dipper, and other constellations she had known since childhood—beaming down on her like old friends.
And somewhere, she knew, even bigger and brighter than these glowing points of light was the One who had created them all. The same One who had created her and loved her, and was even now working out amazing things for good in her life.
“Lord,” she breathed, her voice no louder than the whisper of night air that rustled the leaves above her, “it’s hard to realize sometimes that in Your whole, vast creation You can look down and find me, but I’m so glad You can. Thank You for loving me and guiding me and bringing me to this point in my life. I’m so happy right now. So very happy!”
Lizzie sat like that for some time, the sounds of the night creatures whispering their own songs of praise in harmony with the melody in her heart, before she returned to her bed. This time she slept.
❧
Shrill whinnies pierced the air, punctuated by the staccato beat of nervous hooves on packed earth. Adam hooked one boot heel over the bottom rail of the corral and rested his elbows on the top rail as he watched Charles study the select group before him.
Charles eyed first one horse then another, looking them over with an expressionless face. Finally, he pushed himself away from the corral fence and stared straight at Adam.
“There’s a problem,” he said bluntly.
Adam felt knots form in his stomach. He straightened slowly, as if waiting for a blow.
“What do you mean?” he asked. The horses he had brought up today for Charles’s inspection were his finest stock.
Charles looked at him thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes before he spoke. “Yep, a problem. They’re all so good, I can’t make up my mind which ones to take.” He guffawed in delight when Adam finally absorbed the meaning of his words, his jaw dropping in relief.
Adam sagged back against the top rail. “You had me going, there,” he admitted. “I’m glad you like ’em.”
Charles shook his head in admiration. “It beats me how you can take those sorry-looking broomtails that eat up our range and turn them into good cow ponies. You really have a gift for this, Adam. Once the word spreads, it won’t surprise me a bit if you become one of the top horse breeders in the territory.”
Adam turned to look at the horses, as much to hide the emotion that gripped him as anything. After all the years of planning, the long, grueling hours of work, this affirmation was sweet indeed. Having the praise come from the man who was not only his employer, but the father of the woman he loved, made it doubly sweet.
He cleared his throat, hoping the rising emotion wouldn’t be evident in his voice. “You still haven’t said which ones you want.”
“Pick out the best three, Adam. I trust your judgment.”
The sound of light laughter reached them, and the two turned to see Lizzie and Willie approaching the barn. Willie was saying something to his sister, and she responded with more laughter.
Charles watched his children with a fond smile, and Adam noted the way the sunlight glinted off Lizzie’s hair. She looked even lovelier than usual.
Someday, he promised her silently, someday soon, I won’t just be one of your father’s hired hands. I’ll have a place that’s fit for you, and I’ll be able to tell you what’s in my heart.
As the pair drew nearer, Charles waved to them, and, laughing, they waved back. Willie grinned at Adam and called out, “Not a bad-looking bunch you brought in.”
“Thanks,” Adam responded dryly. And then, “Afternoon, Lizzie.”
Her gaze passed right by him to a point over his shoulder; Adam turned to see Tom Mallory emerge from the barn leading Dancer, who was saddled and ready to go.
Lizzie swept by Adam without a word.
Charles frowned. “What’s gotten into her? That was downright rude.” He started to go after her, but Adam laid a restraining hand on his arm.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, his lips tightening in frustration. “She just has her mind on other things.”
❧
Lizzie accepted Dancer’s reins from Tom and mounted her horse, a slow flush suffusing her cheeks at Tom’s look of frank admiration. He held the horse’s headstall a moment longer than necessary. Moving so Dancer stood between him and the two men by the corral, he whispered, “Are you going to take the same route you did yesterday?”
Lizzie nodded, hardly daring to hope that he might mean what she thought he did.
Tom gave only a smile and a swift wink in response. He bent as if to check Dancer’s front hoof, then straightened and patted the gelding on the shoulder. “Looks okay to me,” he said. “You should be just fine.” He touched two fingers to his hat brim in salute and sauntered off toward the bunkhouse.
Lizzie tried not to let her excitement show as she waved to her father and rode off. Following her path from the day before, she wondered if Tom had truly meant to imply that he planned to meet her again. If so, where would it be? And when? How she wished he had made his meaning clear! The trees, she decided. He would make a point of meeting her at the same place as yesterday.
But when? How could she know when to be there?
In the end, she decided to go just where she had gone yesterday. If Tom knew where she’d been and when, and wanted to intercept her elsewhere, she should stick as close as possible to yesterday’s schedule.
Lizzie fidgeted as she rode, wishing she were already at the trees and hoping she had chosen the correct course of action. What if he were already there, waiting? What if he had gotten tired of waiting and left before she got there? It would be horrid to have spent all this time determinedly following yesterday’s course, only to find she had misunderstood Tom.
She brooded over the possibility as Dancer continued along in his smooth, easy gait. Was it only the day before that she had taken such pleasure in the scene around her, reveling in its beauty? Now she felt only irritation as the scenery passed by far too slowly to suit her.
By the time the cedars came in sight she was a nervous wreck. She stood in her stirrups, straining to make out every detail, willing herself to spy Tom or his horse.
Only the trees, the scrub brush, and the gently waving grasses marked the landscape. Tom was nowhere to be seen.
Lizzie stifled a sob, fully realizing only now just how much she had longed to meet him again. What a ninny you are! she scolded herself. He was probably only trying to be friendly, and you’ve made a big thing out of nothing. Serves you right to be disappointed!
She swiped the back of her gloved hand across her eyes, dashing away angry tears. The day, which had started out with such glorious promise, now seemed cold and dismal, even though the sun was shining brightly.
She kicked Dancer into a lope. She was angry, she told herself, nothing more. Angry at Tom for not speaking plainly, angry at the day for holding out such empty promise, and most of all, angry at herself for her naive assumption that Tom was interested in her.
And that cold, empty feeling inside her was only hunger, she told herself unconvincingly.
She decided to stop at the trees after all. She would eat some of the biscuits she had brought along and enjoy the cool shade, all on her own. There was no reason to feel the day was wasted, no reason at all.
It wasn’t until she was sliding off Dancer’s back that she caught sight of Tom’s mount, tethered farther back among the trees. Suspended halfway between the saddle and the ground, she dangled in mida
ir, looking anxiously about for Tom.
His breath tickled the skin behind her ear at the same instant she felt his hands circle her waist and lower her to the ground as easily as if she weighed no more than a sack of oats. A warm flush burned its way up her neck to stain her face, and she felt utterly ridiculous. What a sight she must have made, hanging there gaping!
She whirled around the moment her feet touched the ground, determined to regain some of her lost dignity. But with Dancer immediately behind her and Tom still clasping her waist, she suddenly realized there was nowhere to go. Nowhere at all.
She attributed the uncontrollable pounding of her heart to her surprise at his appearance, and to the relief at his being there. A relief, she realized, that was so overwhelming it was almost frightening.
Tom slowly, lazily removed his hands from her waist and placed them against Dancer’s saddle, on either side of her shoulders. Apart from her father and Willie, and an occasional hug from her uncle, Lizzie had never been this close to a man. She found the experience unnerving.
Unnerving, and not altogether unpleasant.
Her glance traveled up the front of Tom’s shirt, past the bandanna tied at his neck and the cleft in his chin that deepened as his lips curved in an amused smile, to the fiery blue gaze that held her like a rabbit hypnotized by a snake.
“I thought you’d never get here,” Tom said, his breath stirring the loose tendrils of hair at her temples.
Lizzie shut her eyes, fighting for control. Her knees had turned to jelly and threatened to give way at any moment. “I wasn’t sure where you wanted to meet me,” she said, hating the way her voice quavered.
Tom straightened, pulling away from her at last. Lizzie couldn’t decide whether she was disappointed or relieved. He gave a low chuckle, as if satisfied.
“I knew you’d be smart enough to figure out what I meant.” He placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face up toward him. “Don’t feel bad,” he said gently. “I’ve only been here a little while. It just seemed like hours, waiting for you to show up.”
He turned and waved toward the log where she sat the day before. “Come over here. I want to make the most of the time we have.”
As he walked beside her, Lizzie willed her trembling legs not to betray her. Was this what love did? Did everyone have this uncontrollable, shaky feeling?
Lizzie was touched by Tom’s obvious attempts to make the setting attractive. He had swept the dirt smooth with a cedar branch and cleared away the broken limbs and twigs that had littered the ground. Yesterday must have meant as much to him as it did to me, she thought happily. Otherwise, he’d never have taken such pains. The knowledge gave her a warm inner glow and a newfound confidence.
She accepted the sandwich Tom handed her, enjoying the tingling sensation she felt whenever their fingertips touched.
Look at him, she told herself, thrilled with her new ability to meet and hold his gaze without dropping her own. Here we are, all alone. He could have taken advantage of me a dozen times already, if he’d had a mind to. But all we’re doing is sitting here, eating and talking. What a perfect gentleman!
Their conversation went along much the same lines as the last time, with each filling in gaps in their personal histories. Finally Tom turned, shielding his eyes with one hand and gauging the height of the sun. “I’m afraid it’s time to pack it in for today,” he said, turning back to Lizzie. The regret in his eyes mirrored her own.
Swallowing her disappointment, she helped him clean up the area. Maybe, she thought, just maybe, this won’t be the last time.
She waited for Tom to bring Dancer to her and wasn’t surprised when he grasped her at the waist again to boost her into the saddle. He paused before lifting her and stared intently into her eyes. Lizzie felt her heart race and knew for certain that this time it was due to pleasure and not surprise.
“Will you meet me here again tomorrow?” he asked.
She nodded, afraid to trust her voice.
“Good.” Tom smiled, and the glow she felt seemed to rival the sun for its warmth. “I don’t always know what I’ll be doing from one day to the next, so I can’t promise to be here every day. But I’ll make it as often as I can, and try to let you know when I can’t. Is that all right with you?”
Lizzie nodded again, too happy to speak.
“Good,” he said again, and this time he did lift her onto Dancer’s back. “You go first this time,” he told her, squeezing her hand. She could see him standing in the same place, watching her as she rode away.
Lizzie marveled at the way the day had improved. Only a short while ago it had seemed so dead and dismal, and now it was positively radiant. And while she’d been willing to settle for biscuits alone under the cedars, instead she had enjoyed another interlude with Tom.
She laughed softly to herself. This had been better than biscuits. Much, much better!
eight
Two weeks later, Lizzie saddled Dancer and turned him toward Judith’s house. Tom wouldn’t be able to meet her at the cedars today, so she planned to use the time to work on her mother’s quilt. Maybe she’d finish it today. It would be nice to have it done and out of the way.
She knew Judith was anxious to finish it before the baby’s arrival, and realized with a twinge of guilt that it could have been done earlier if only she’d gone to Judith’s more often. But she’d been too busy.
Busy with Tom, she reminded herself dreamily, still hardly able to believe he cared. He had shown her, though, shown her time and again.
They had met nearly every day at what Lizzie now thought of as “their” place. Sometimes she would find Tom already waiting and seeming as anxious for their time together as she was. Other times she would arrive first and wait with delicious anticipation, hoping against hope his duties hadn’t taken him elsewhere.
On the days when he was unable to meet her and hadn’t been able to let her know in advance, she spent the time moving from spot to spot, letting each one spark its own memory. Even now, miles from the grove, she could picture it clearly in her mind’s eye.
There was the log where they sat most often, with Tom pleasantly close beside her as they talked and dreamed together. Tom gradually told her more about himself, opening up more, she sensed, once he realized he could trust her not to judge him too harshly for some of his actions.
He had been involved in several gun battles, he had confided, and at first she had been shocked and disturbed by the news. But when he explained the circumstances, how each time it had been in defense of himself or someone weaker, she found herself more in love with him than ever.
Over near the tallest cedar was the spot where she had tripped over an exposed root and would have fallen if Tom had not moved quickly and caught her. She closed her eyes a moment, savoring the memory of being supported in his arms. He had held her longer than strictly necessary, but not too tightly, and had released her before she became uncomfortable with the proximity.
And there, by the spot where the horses waited. . . Lizzie breathed a sigh of pure wonder as she remembered their last parting. They had spent a perfect hour together. Tom’s gaze, always intense, had burned with a fire that left her breathless. When it was time for her to mount Dancer, he moved to help her as he always did. But this time, instead of taking hold of her waist to boost her to the saddle, he had gently grasped her shoulders and lowered his head toward hers.
She caught her breath now in memory, even as she had when it had dawned upon her that he was about to kiss her. Her eyelids had fluttered closed of their own accord, and she scarcely dared to breathe, not knowing what to expect. When his lips pressed against hers, she had felt as though she were rising through the air, spinning in the sky to dance among the clouds, and thought it was the most perfect moment of her life.
She could still feel the warm pressure of his lips and the hard muscles of his shoulders as she had shyly wrapped her arms around his neck. For a moment, she wondered uneasily what her parents would say about t
his, but assured herself they would understand when the time came for Tom to talk to them.
And that time would come soon, she knew. Tom had hinted at it only moments after that beautiful, perfect kiss. He had looked deep into her eyes until Lizzie felt he was examining her very soul. Then he whispered, “Not much longer, Lizzie, my sweet.”
Right now, Lizzie thought, life seemed almost too wonderful!
Once again she rode into the yard, handing Dancer’s reins to Sam this time. She watched him strut proudly toward the barn, with Travis, his tow-headed younger brother, following in his wake.
Rose waited for her in the open doorway. “I’m helping Mama clean the house today,” she announced importantly. “She’ll be with you in just a minute,” she said, ushering Lizzie inside. “Just as soon as she freshens up. She’s been lying down.” Her voice lowered and she whispered conspiratorially, “She really needs her rest these days, you know.”
Lizzie nodded with what she hoped was an appropriate show of understanding and took her place at the quilting frame while Rose, dust rag in hand, went off to her chores. She could tell at a glance that Judith had worked on the quilt alone since she’d been there last, and felt another pang of remorse. Judith had enough on her mind right now without having to carry Lizzie’s responsibilities as well. Then she remembered their earlier conversation about God working things out for the best in her life. Since Tom was her answer to prayer, surely Judith couldn’t argue about her spending time with him.
Lizzie picked up one of the threaded needles and set to work. Back and forth, in and out, the tiny stitches accented the colorful pattern. How pretty this will look on Mama’s bed!
Lizzie was on her second needle when Judith entered the room. “Hello, stranger,” her aunt greeted her, smiling. Lizzie flinched a little at the mild rebuke.
“Hello yourself,” she replied brightly, determined not to let anything ruin her beautiful day. “Thank you for the extra work you’ve done.” She took a second look at her aunt and frowned. “Are you feeling all right? You look pale.”
