Vestige of Hope

by Sara Blackard

  “River said Pa was attacked by a bear,” Viola answered.

  “That doesn’t sound right.” Trapper Dan shook his head and pulled on his beard.

  “It doesn’t sound right because it’s not what happened,” Beatrice said as she pushed her plate away from her. “The Sweeneys had something to do with Pa’s death. We just haven’t been able to leave this place to confront them.”

  “The Sweeneys? What’s this got to do with them?” Trapper Dan asked.

  “They came here a few weeks ago, saying that both Pa and Orlando were dead. Linc expected to come here and leave with Viola as his wife,” Beatrice said, her voice going cold with anger. “The only way they would’ve known Pa was dead was if they had something to do with it. And now that you’re here, we can go get them and force them to tell us what they know.”

  Worry filled Hunter’s heart. River had only left the morning before. There was no telling where he had gone off to. Would Beatrice accept the need to give River some time to find the Sweeneys and bring the information back to make a plan of attack?

  Trapper Dan sighed regretfully and said, “Beatrice, girl, I wish with everything in me that I could help. And I’ll come back as soon as I can to do that, but first thing tomorrow morning I have to go to the White River Agency and talk with the new Indian agent there. Chief Johnson sent a note saying that he needs my advice. I can’t have him waiting on me any longer.”

  Hunter relaxed into his chair, glad for the time to allow River to return with reconnaissance. Hunter didn’t want to go up against the Sweeneys blind. He looked at Viola and smiled mischievously. He wouldn’t mind a night or two with his new wife before going off to battle.

  Chapter 18

  Beatrice huffed in frustration, made some excuse about taking care of the animals, and stomped out the door, slamming it shut. Viola glanced from Hunter to Uncle Dan.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice rasping. “She’s always been one whose emotions run fast, though most wouldn’t think it by looking at her.”

  Uncle Dan reached his hand across placing it upon hers, tears shining bright in his eyes. “I’m sorry about your pa, Viola. And I’m sorry I can’t stick around right now to help out. You are the daughter I never had. Beautiful and full of mercy, just like your ma. Thank you for puttin’ up with an old coot like me.”

  “I love you too, Uncle Dan,” Viola said.

  Uncle Dan sniffed, stood up, and headed toward the door. “I’m going to go help your sister with the animals.”

  As Viola watched him go, Hunter’s hand rubbed across her shoulders. He leaned close and put his forehead against the side of her head. His breath tickled her ear as it blew across it.

  “I’m so sorry about your dad,” Hunter whispered, the soft breeze of his breath unlocking the vault she had locked her tears in.

  She turned her head and peered into his eyes as a single tear tracked down her cheek. Compassion and love shone forth from him. He reached up and wiped the tear, though another and another quickly replaced it. When they proved too many to catch, Hunter simply pulled her into his arms.

  “Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, stroking his hand down her back.

  Viola knew it was ridiculous and pointless to sit there crying, but when one’s father died, she figured it to be a good enough reason. Not that the crying would bring him back or make things better. But as Hunter held her there in his strong arms, she realized he had made it better.

  How would she have ever made it through this time without his strength? How would she know what to say to Beatrice to stop her talk of vengeance? Just having Hunter here to hold her helped her not experience such loneliness, like she no longer had to take on life and trials by herself. Though she hadn’t been looking and didn’t even realize she needed a husband, God sent this man from the future for her. It was unexpected, surprising, and too much to understand.

  Viola pulled back from him, just enough to look into his face. He brushed her tears with his thumbs, the calloused skin rough against her cheeks, and his fingers gently wrapped around the back of her neck.

  Wanting to thank him for his caring, Viola leaned forward and kissed him. She pulled away, exhaling softly as she stared at his lips. The right side turned up in a tempting tease, and she kissed him again, wanting to have this surprise husband of hers close. He matched her passion with his own, until, against Viola’s wishes, he slowed down the kiss. He kissed her once, twice, three times before pulling her into a hug. She snuggled her face into his neck, his heart pounding through his shirt against her.

  “How is it I just met you, and yet, I feel as if God connected our lives since the beginning of time?”

  “My dad told me once that God had made someone special for me,” Hunter said, combing his fingers through her hair, which she now realized had come undone. “He said that if I was patient, it would be obvious who that was. Lately I had worried that my life, who I’ve become, was too tarnished. That maybe I wasn’t supposed to be with anyone because of it.”

  Hunter pulled Viola back from him, and she saw so much love there that she about broke down crying again. She relished the feel as he sunk his hands further into her hair.

  He looked into her eyes and confessed, “I’ve prayed for you every day of my life since I turned fifteen. I prayed God would make it obvious so I wouldn’t be swayed into something false.” He chuckled and shook his head before continuing, “I just didn’t think He’d make it this obvious. Maybe He thought only time travel would be a big enough sign for me. Despite that, and my lack of preparedness for this life here, I promise, you won’t regret taking a chance on me.”

  “How could I regret marrying you?” Viola asked, chuckling. “I would marry you even if you never learn a thing about living here, and I have to push you down a mountain every few weeks to keep you here. I love you, and I’m not letting you go. Ever.”

  Hunter quickly pulled Viola onto his lap, and she yelped in surprise. He kissed her, digging his fingers deep into her hair. He trailed kisses down her neck and back up to her ear, whispering thanks to God between kisses. Her body turned hot and tingly in the strangest, most wonderful way. Her breath came quickly, and her heart pounded like a stampeding herd of mustangs. Much too soon, Hunter pulled away, leaning his forehead to hers. They both breathed heavily.

  “We need to stop before someone comes in,” Hunter said, kissing her one last time. “Let me help you with the dishes.”

  Viola stood in a dazed state, having more help than she would like to admit from Hunter. How could the man possibly think of dishes at a time like this? She stiffly walked to the sink, having to lock her knees after they’d acted like plum pudding on the first step. She stared at the sink, wondering why she was here. Hunter offered her a bemused smile.

  He kissed her on the nose, handed her the bar of soap, and said, “Dishes, remember?”

  “Of course I remember,” Viola snapped, mortified a little kissing would put her in such a state.

  She started shaving soap into the tub and allowed Hunter to pour water from the pan on the stove. Though, with his ribs still healing, she shouldn’t let him lift such awkward things. When he threw her a saucy grin and a wink, she decided he had healed enough for the work.

  With the water ready and utensils in the tub, Viola plunged her hands into the water and began to wash. After dropping the third fork into the rinse water with a splash, she turned to Hunter as he chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” Viola asked.

  “I’m wondering if you were so dazed and shook up after a little kissing,” Hunter said, leaning in to whisper the last huskily in her ear. “What’s gonna happen when I get you alone tonight?”

  Viola gasped, her face blushing hot. Hunter kissed her on the base of her neck, scorching her skin with the contact. The spoons she was holding slipped from her hands, and she clutched the sink to keep standing.

  Hunter smirked. “I can’t wait to find out.”

  At that momen
t, the door swung open, and Beatrice came in. Viola blushed again and quickly turned back to the sink. Hunter playfully nudged her while he reached into the rinse water for the forks. Viola thanked the Lord someone hadn’t caught them a second time in one day kissing wildly.

  “Hunter,” Beatrice said as she came across the room. “Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll help Viola with them.”

  “All right.” Hunter dried his hands on the towel. “I’ll go fetch water from the creek.”

  He leaned over and kissed Viola on the cheek, gave Beatrice a hug while he whispered something in her ear, and walked out the door.

  “I think you might have got yourself a keeper,” Beatrice said, tying her apron on over the dress that Viola had begged her to wear for the wedding.

  “Yeah, I think so too.”

  “Maybe God might drop me a husband off the mountain,” Beatrice said.

  “I don’t know,” Viola answered. “The possibility of it happening again is mighty slim.”

  Beatrice sighed and plunged her hands into the rinse water to grab the clean dishes. They worked in silence until all the dishes were clean, dried, and put away. After they both had hung their aprons on the peg, Viola pulled Beatrice into a tight hug. They stood there, drawing comfort from each other’s presence, not needing words to express their grief. Viola supposed that was what happened when two sisters were as close as they were, but she thanked God they both had each other and promised she’d do whatever she could to make this time easier on her sister.

  Viola sat on the porch swing, the creak of the rope as it moved back and forth adding its music to the crickets that sang their ballads. The day had been long and trying, with thoughts of her husband’s words and kisses distracting her throughout the hours. She rubbed her aching knee. It had swollen large after one of the wilder horses they corralled had kicked her out of spite. What chapped was she knew she was never to let her guard down around that ornery beast, yet there she had stood daydreaming.

  The mug of coffee cradled in her hands didn’t warm her as much as the arm that the man pressed to her side had draped across her shoulders. Who would’ve known that one could gain such comfort and security with the placing of an arm? Who would’ve known that a caress could send such heat burning through her, as if lightning sprang deep within her body everywhere he touched? She wondered how her entire body didn’t ignite in flames with her left side pressed to his. Would she even be able to survive the wedding night without combusting to ash?

  Viola lowered her head to hide the telling blush that raced up her neck and face, shame racing up just as fast. How could she even be thinking such thoughts while they sat here telling stories about Pa? What kind of daughter was she that her thoughts would so quickly vacillate from dread and intense grief that her father no longer lived, to joy and intense desire to know this man as only husband and wife would know? Her tossing and turning thoughts sickened and shamed her so much, she pulled within herself as Beatrice and Uncle Dan told stories of Pa, hoping against hope that her traitorous mind wouldn’t reveal itself to the others.

  But despite how deep Viola tried to retreat, there was that arm draped across her shoulders, providing such comfort and strength and hope, preventing her from pulling too far within. Life connected her to this fascinating man so much that she envisioned their very souls intertwined and braided together.

  “I know he’s rejoicing in heaven.” Uncle Dan sniffed as he finished his latest story. “Seeing the Lord face to face and being reunited with his precious Victoria, and I should rejoice with him, and I am. I’m just sad I won’t be seeing him again on this side of eternity.”

  The silence that followed was thick with grief and threatened to pull Viola further into darkness. She squeezed her hands around the mug, hoping the solidity of the object would keep her from buckling into the emotional torrent that, if she allowed it to break the tenuous dam of her eyelids, would have seen her father running for the hills. As much as a woman’s tears had made him uncomfortable, it’d be even more disgraceful and to the discredit of Pa if she allowed them to flow unchecked now. No, the one hard cry that she and Beatrice had in the cabin was enough to release the grief and hurt. Anything more would be self-indulgent and weak. Her father didn’t raise weak women, but women strong enough to conquer these savage mountains, to live a life full of love and hope rather than fear and timidity.

  Viola leaned further into Hunter and placed her head upon his shoulder. This was where her love would blossom, within this man God had thrown back in time and down a mountainside. Here was her hope that life would be more than simply survival, would be abundant beyond anything she ever hoped or imagined. God in His mercy and grace and unending wisdom sent Hunter to her before she even knew she needed him. Not to take the place in her heart that her father’s death was leaving empty. That place would always ache with the void of him. But even as the pain of that emptiness threatened to overwhelm her, a new place in her heart filled, one she never realized was as cavernous as it was. One she somehow knew would only be surpassed by the love of God she held in her heart. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, Viola thought.

  “Blessed be the name of the Lord,” Hunter murmured jolting Viola’s head around to his face, not realizing she had spoken aloud.

  “Yes, blessed be the name of the Lord,” Uncle Dan agreed. “Well, I believe I’ll go find a place to light a small fire and study the stars. Beatrice, would you do this old man the honor of joining me? I sure have looked forward to our next discussion.”

  “I got a fascinating book this winter on stars and how people use them for navigation beyond what I’ve always understood,” Beatrice answered as she rose from the chair she was sitting in on the porch. “I’ll go get it and my gear.”

  As Beatrice closed the door to the cabin, Uncle Dan stood and reached out his hand to shake Hunter’s. “Welcome to the family, son. I have a good feeling you’ll fit right in.”

  Hunter stood, bringing Viola with him. He met Uncle Dan’s hand with a strong clasp before pulling him into a hug that had so much thumping Viola worried Hunter’s bones would come loose again.

  “I’m honored to be a part of this family,” Hunter replied, glancing at Viola and threading her fingers through his, causing her heart to beat wildly and her arm to tingle.

  Hunter turned back to Uncle Dan and continued, “Thanks for doing the ceremony for us and for not shooting me on the spot.”

  “My pleasure.” Uncle Dan laughed before becoming serious. “Just remember, you don’t live up to what this girl deserves and needs, you won’t live at all.”

  “Understand, sir,” Hunter said. “And you have my permission to do the honors if I ever don’t.”

  Uncle Dan turned to Viola and pulled her into a bear hug. “I love you, girl, and I know this one is a good one.”

  Uncle Dan pulled away and winked. As Beatrice and Uncle Dan walked to the barn to saddle their horses, Hunter pulled Viola to his side and kissed the top of her head.

  “I knew I liked that guy.” Hunter’s eyes gleamed as Viola peered at him. “He gave us the house to ourselves.”

  “Oh,” Viola mouthed, her face turning red yet again as understanding and embarrassment came.

  “Come on, Mrs. Bennett,” Hunter said as he grabbed Viola’s hand and pulled her to the house.

  Viola limped after Hunter, aware that she might just find out if she would combust. Her heart raced in intimidating anticipation. She really wished her mother would’ve explained a little of what was about to happen. Okay, Viola, don’t get jumpy, she warned herself.

  Chapter 19

  Hunter closed the door after he led Viola through, the loud snap causing Viola to jump. He would’ve teased her about how on edge she was if he didn’t feel as nervous as a greenie on his first mission. He needed to keep his focus, remember that she’d lost her father, for Pete’s sake, and push his desires down to the back of his mind, like he’d done the last fifteen years of his life. If he got through ad
olescence without giving in to that lustful monster, he could get through this.

  Though that hadn’t been when the lady of his desires was his flesh-and-blood wife. The wife he’d waited the last fifteen years for and prayed every day for. Viola, his wife, who was so beautiful in both face and heart that it hurt to look at her. Who was brave and intelligent. Who was faithful and trusting of God much more than he had been recently. He didn’t deserve her, but he thanked God for delivering him to her. If he didn’t stop thinking about how amazing she was, he would never control the desires that were pushing forward, and then where would he be? With a wife who thought him a heartless, groping thug, probably.

  Maybe. He remembered her blushes when he’d brushed her arm on the porch. Or the energy that seemed to leap from her to him where their bodies pressed to each other. How she’d held her breath when he’d shifted, then breathed a faint sigh of contentment when he settled her closer to him. Maybe she wouldn’t think him so heartless and groping after all.

  He pushed that idea away, determined to focus on Viola and what she needed from him. He pulled her to the table, grabbed the coffee mug from her other hand, and nudged her into a chair.

  “Would you like me to put the teapot on for you?” Hunter asked as he took the mug to the sink.

  “No, thank you,” she whispered, her eyes riveted to the mar in the table she was scratching at. As he turned and leaned against the counter, she let out a deep breath, lifting her eyes to his before glancing back to the table, a faint pink coloring her pale cheeks.

  “You’ve been quiet this evening,” Hunter said. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind. What’s got you so agitated?”

  Her face bloomed a bright red, and her eyes grew large and round in her delicate face. Shoot, wrong thing to say. Hunter scrambled, trying to figure out something else to blurt before she started crying. Though she didn’t look sad, more embarrassed, which confused Hunter even more. He probably shouldn’t have avoided girls as much as he did, then he might have a clue what to do in this situation.