The Shepherd's Betrothal

by Lynn A. Coleman

  Hope turned away. Did she want this much honesty between them? “You don’t understand.”

  Ian took her by the shoulders and turned her around, his eyes brighter than she’d ever seen them before. He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands.

  “Then explain it to me,” he said. He pulled her to him and she stepped into his embrace as his lips captured her own. His kiss was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. There was a depth to it that calmed her even as her heart began to race.

  He stepped back. “I’m sorry, I should not have done that.”

  Hope blinked her eyes open. She started to shake.

  “I’m sorry, Hope. I should not have…”

  She reached out and caressed his face. “Nonsense.”

  He wrapped her in his arms for a few long moments then gently pulled away a bit. “Hope, can ye honestly see yerself living in this cabin?”

  Hope looked at the quaint wooden structure then back at Ian. She placed her hands on his chest and stepped back. “For a time, I suppose I could.”

  “Aye, and that be just one of the problems between us.”

  Hope cocked her head. “Are you saying that because I would want a bigger home one day that it would be a problem between us?”

  “Aye. I am a simple man, with simple needs.”

  “And I am…” She motioned for him to finish the sentence.

  “Ye need more than a simple home.”

  “I understand now. I am not the kind of wife you want.” She felt the heat rise up her neck and face. “You want one who would be content living in this one-room house with babies at her feet, cooking your meals without a thought or concern about one day having more.”

  “No, it’s not that. I’m not sayin’ this proper like. I like ye, Hope, very much but…”

  “I understand.” She spun around and headed for the door.

  What had she ever done to say to him that she wouldn’t be content with a humble home? A good, sound home, albeit a bit small. No family could be expected to live in a small place like that with children forever, could they? “I shall see you around, Mr. McGrae.”

  She wanted to turn back, but her pride kept her moving forward. She’d thought they had a chance of developing a real relationship. In the end, there wasn’t any ground to build upon. He viewed her as a rich socialite and nothing more, even though she’d been spending her time cleaning chamber pots at the Seaside Inn.

  It didn’t matter. She had other things to do, other plans. Loving Ian McGrae was not a part of those plans, and that was fine. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself as she walked away.

  Chapter 9

  Ian sighed as he watched Hope walk out of his life. He’d been right to bring up the possible problem in the beginning. She needed to know his concerns and obviously he’d been right. She would not be content living in his single-room house.

  Tara lifted her head and let out a whimper. She, too, would miss Hope’s kindness and affection. Ian groaned. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He knew kissing Hope would stir up all kinds of emotions but he never expected a kiss to be so powerful. It was more than their lips meeting; their hearts seemed to blend, as well.

  How could that be?

  “I’m sorry, girl. I’m afraid Miss Lang will not be a part of our lives.” That’s twice he’d ruined a chance at happiness with a woman who could be a mate of incredible worth. The Proverbs 31 scripture of an ideal wife had a verse about that, if he recalled. He went into the house and pulled out his Bible, opening to the thirty-first Proverb. “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.”

  “I found her, Lord,” he said aloud. “But I don’t have the rubies.”

  He closed his Bible and headed for the back pasture to bring his sheep in. It was time to stop regretting the decisions he should have made. Even if he had honored the betrothal she would never have been happy in his meager cottage. She was a precious jewel worthy of someone with more.

  Then the first part of the verse hit him again: “a virtuous woman.” How virtuous could she be? Granted, he didn’t know exactly what happened but his mind went to her being put in a compromising situation. What else could it be? But then again, she wasn’t the type… He argued with himself the entire time he walked out to the pasture.

  “Who am I to judge Hope, Lord?”

  * * *

  He saw her at a distance in church the next Sunday but declined to speak to her. What could he say? He turned to leave and Gabriel came up beside him. “Haven’t seen you around much.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  Gabe nodded.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ian saw a man approach Hope. She stiffened. He reached out for her. She pulled away. Ian marched toward Hope. He needed to protect her.

  Gabe grabbed Ian’s arm and stopped him. “I’ll handle it.”

  Gabe spun around and headed over toward Hope and the stranger. Before Gabe got to them the man sidled away.

  Ian’s back stiffened. Ian glanced at the retreating individual and noticed he was wearing gentlemen’s clothing. His gaze turned back to Hope. Gabe had his arm around her and was leading her out of the sanctuary. He glanced back at the gentleman and took a step forward. He might not be from the same social class but manners and proper respect toward a woman, any woman, especially Hope, demanded a reprimand.

  “Ian, it’s good to see you.” Richard Arman came over and shook his hand. “How are you? How’s that flock coming?”

  “They are healthier. Me ram and the five sheep from me father’s herd should be arriving in the next few days.”

  “Depending on the winds and rains.”

  “Precisely. How is yer wife?”

  “Better. She still isn’t ready to come to church and sit on the hard pews for the entire service but the doctor says she’s doing well and we’ll be able to announce the good news to folks soon.” Richard beamed. Ian didn’t know if he’d ever seen a man happier at the prospect of becoming a father.

  “How’s the issue regarding your property going?”

  “Slower than a snail crossing a path of salt. Mr. Greeley is surprised at the pace. The judge saw that it was a false claim and rescinded his order but another claim was filed with another judge a couple of days later. It is all very peculiar.”

  “It is strange. I’ve heard of border disputes before, but most of those have been squared away and both parties agreed to the new survey. But this, there is something odd about it.”

  “Ben agrees. He’s working to try and find the person responsible for the claims and it seems he’s finding other errors.” Ian leaned in closer. “He believes someone be changing the titles and claims. Thankfully, the Sanderses still had their original paperwork.”

  “I will continue to pray for you and the Sanderses. This must be weighing on them.”

  “They seem to be taking it in stride. They know they owned the land and have their deeds all in order. I wish I were as trusting as they are.”

  “There is something to be said about getting older and knowing the Good Lord will make things right even if you have to struggle for a while.”

  “Aye, they have that peace.”

  “And you, my friend, do not, do you?”

  “I’ve been trying to trust the Lord but I keep running back to me own judgments from time to time.”

  Richard tapped him on the back. “Don’t we all, my friend, don’t we all. It’s been good catching up with you.”

  “Give Grace me love and prayers.”

  “Thank you, Ian. Good day.”

  “Good day.” Ian watched as Richard Arman headed off toward the Seaside Inn. Richard was a lucky man to have such a loving wife at his side, one who worked just as hard as he did. Ian paused his thoughts. Hope could be that kind of a wife, too. The voice in his head flashed through all the times he’d seen her working hard for her friend.

  Did I misjudge again, Lord?

  * * *

  Hope dressed for the
Dia de Muertos, the Latin holiday known as the Day of the Dead. Folks who were not from a Hispanic background were surprised and a bit bewildered by the event. She smiled at the thought. In true tradition, it focused on remembering friends and family who had passed away. Where it went a little too far for Hope’s taste was in bringing food to the graves or building private altars to their ancestors. However, she loved the festive atmosphere, the parades, the music and the celebration.

  And today, Hope needed some cheer. Hamilton Scott approaching her in church was a bit more than she’d expected. It had been nearly four months since he’d fired her for no reason. Well, there was a reason. But he didn’t want to hear the truth about the careless documentation of his employees. Mr. Scott wanted her to come back to work for him, no apology, no admission of any wrong-doing on his part. And she was to simply accept his offer as if nothing had happened?

  Hope would not submit herself to that kind of treatment again. Because she was a woman, he saw her as expendable, and she knew, given the right circumstances, he would fire her again with no cause. What bothered her most was his approaching her in church, hinting that if she would simply apologize…

  But worse than her encounter with Hamilton Scott was seeing Ian and knowing he thought her unworthy or unwilling to love him as he was. The ever-present knot in her stomach twisted again. Especially in light of the kiss they had shared.

  Hope sighed. She looked in the full-length mirror at her dress. It was bright and colorful, giving the impression of happiness. She would not let anyone know her heart and her feelings of unworthiness. At one time, she would have thought it impossible that she would be so insecure, but there was no denying it now. She’d been judged by Hamilton Scott to be unworthy. And she’d been judged by Ian to be unworthy of his life and life choices. She couldn’t work for her father in the investment company because people wouldn’t accept a woman in that business. Besides, he already had a secretary who’d been working for them.

  “What am I good for, Lord?”

  She sat down in the reclining chair in her room and opened her Bible to the familiar verses from the thirty-first Proverb. “‘She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.’ I don’t work with wool or flax but I do quilt and like working with fabric and designing dresses.” Even Grace had asked her if she wanted to be a dressmaker. She nibbled her lower lip. “Should I, Lord? Should I strike out on my own?”

  She read further. “She considereth a field, and buyeth it.” She had been earning some money and her father had started to pay her for her time going over some of the business proposals.

  Hope got up and walked over to her desk. She started a list of the various steps one would need to take to start a dressmaker’s business. She would drive through St. Augustine and count how many dressmakers lived and worked in the city. Knowing the competition was one of the first requirements for assessing whether or not a business would be sound.

  For the first time in months, she felt better, like she had a plan. She continued mapping out the necessary steps and what she would need to investigate until her mother called her. “Are you coming?” Sally Lang asked from behind the closed door.

  “Sorry, Mum. I’ll be right down.” Hope left her paperwork on her desk. She had a new direction for her life, a new purpose. She might not have a husband or any prospects at the moment, but she was encouraged.

  She realized she’d forgotten who she was. God didn’t make mistakes, and being a woman didn’t make her any less adept in the business world. She could, and with God’s grace she would.

  She opened her bedroom door and hurried down the stairs, where the rest of the family was waiting for her. The bandage was still on but she didn’t care. Today she would choose to have fun, enjoy life and not put herself down. Yes, she’d made mistakes, but who hadn’t?

  Her mother smiled as she approached. “Ye are beautiful, Hope.”

  “Thank you, Mum.”

  Her mother wrapped her arm around Hope’s waist and whispered in her ear. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Hope. I trust ye have forgiven yourself.”

  Hope nodded. Had she? Yes, she had, and it felt wonderful to be free from the events of the past. It was time to look forward.

  * * *

  The next day Hope began in earnest to research the various dressmakers in St. Augustine, find out who owned a storefront and who worked from their home. By the end of the day she had gathered enough information to start analyzing whether or not it would be a profitable business. And if she were to start such a business, would she hire employees? How big did she want this business to grow? Or did she prefer to keep it small, enough for a bit of income… No, that wouldn’t be good enough. She would need to eventually pay for her needs, to rent or own her own home, to completely provide for herself.

  Would she design a line of clothing that she would prefer to wear, or a line that the social elite would prefer to wear, or both? Personally, she’d rather design clothes she’d like to wear, but from the few shops she’d entered earlier that day, she could see that making fancy gowns for the genteel ladies of society was a large part of the business.

  She worked until she was called to dinner.

  “Good evening, Father.” She kissed him on the cheek and sat down in her seat.

  “Good evening, daughter.” He winked. The two of them had a running gag of being formal with each other for a moment at the table.

  Gabe shook his head. Mother came in from the kitchen carrying the serving dish with roast beef, potatoes, carrots and onions with brown gravy. Gabe took the platter from his mother and placed it in the center of the table. “Thank ye, son.”

  “You’re welcome, Mother.” Gabe wiggled his eyebrows at Hope, making her laugh.

  “What has brought ye cheer, Hope? It is good to see but I am curious,” her father asked.

  “I’m working on something. Give me a couple of days and I will share it with you. I’d like your input but I’d like to work out the details first.”

  Drake smiled and nodded. He reached out his hands and the family followed suit, each taking the hand next to them. With her left she was connected to her father. With her right she was connected to her mother, and Gabe sat across from her with the same connection. Her father led them in prayer, then they began the harmony of taking food items and passing the bowls and platters around.

  Gabe opened the conversation, extolling his business prowess for the day. Hope listened. Her father plied him with questions, most of which Gabe had the answers to. Mother seldom said much when it came to business but when she did, it was always a well-thought-out comment.

  “I’ve been speaking with Ian to learn about his business. This is beef country—I’m a little leery of just how much mutton and lamb can be brought into this market. However he did speak with several of the butchers in town and George Leonardy let him know that he never has enough for his customers.”

  Hope was curious to hear news about Ian but she fought the urge to ask any questions. She did not want to appear anxious or overly interested in Ian McGrae, the man who kissed her, then broke her heart.

  “Don’t forget specialized markets, son. A man can do quite well providing something different.”

  “I for one am looking forward to having more lamb on our tables.” Mother spoke up. “Of course, your father and I grew up eating our fair share of it.”

  Specialized markets… Should she be considering her style of clothing as a specialized market? She knew some women on the frontier were making their skirts like pants so they could sit on a horse with the same ease as a man.

  “What about the wool? Does he have a plan for that?” Hope asked.

  “Yes. Apparently they shear the sheep at the early part of the summer then the animal has a good coat before the winter months.”

  Gabe cocked his head but didn’t ask her any questions. He, more than most, probably knew that she and Ian were not suited for one another. Although she wished it could be different. She r
emembered the feel of his lips on hers. Hope looked down at her plate and closed her eyes. She would not think about that kiss again, especially not in front of her parents and brother.

  “Mother, do you know of anyone who cards and spins wool in St. Augustine?” Hope asked.

  “A few of the older ladies do. However, most sheep ranchers send their wool to manufacturing plants.”

  “I’ll mention that to Ian. Thank you, Mum. By the way, dinner is wonderful this evening.” Gabe accented his words with the lift of his fork.

  A round of praise went out thanking mother for her culinary skills. Hope’s mind went over the process of shearing sheep to processing the wool, spinning it into threads, then making fabric… No, that wasn’t for her. She preferred buying fabric already made.

  Perhaps Ian was right. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out to live as a shepherd’s wife.

  Hope closed her eyes and concentrated on who she was created to be rather than what others thought she should be. She would not slip into the mire of depression again. It didn’t suit her, and if it were possible to stop oneself from going down that road, she would choose to.

  A knock at the door stopped everyone. Father got up to answer it… “Mr. Lang.” Hope didn’t recognize the voice but she did recognize the tone. Someone was in need or in trouble.

  Chapter 10

  Ian scanned the dock, looking for the right ship. Word had come that his sheep and ram were in port. He turned and looked down the street toward the Seaside Inn. He wondered if Hope was there this morning, helping Grace. He couldn’t stop thinking about her being in his arms.

  He shook off the thoughts as he approached the ship. He could see and hear the sheep bleating in their pen on the dock. A smile creased his lips. They were finally here.

  He greeted the first mate and signed for his stock. He’d brought fresh water and oats, not knowing what his animals had been fed on board.

  “Conall,” Ian called. The dog stood at attention. Conall would help him walk the sheep back to the ranch. Ian hoped he’d made the right choice to walk them back and not transport them in a wagon. The animals would be in need of some exercise after the long voyage.