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The Healer's Touch

Page 12

by Lori Copeland


  The thought of spending long hours with him didn’t worry her, but those slimy pinching creatures were another story.

  The net sailed through the air and within a half an hour the bucket contained enough bait to last for a while.

  Trailing further down the creek, he led her to a spot she’d visited often. Moonlight shimmered on the water and a soft breeze ruffled her hair. She visited here often when she had serious thinking to do.

  “There are a couple of big rocks…”

  “Over here,” she finished, and laughed. “I come here all the time—it’s one of my favorite places.”

  “It’s real nice,” he agreed. “I’ve spent a few hours here.”

  “Really? This is where you come when I can’t find you?”

  “Most of the time. Can’t tell you all of my secrets.”

  “I didn’t suspect you were fishing.”

  “I haven’t fished. Just sat down here and thought.”

  He didn’t need to say where his thoughts led. His mind had to be so confused.

  She located her rock and staked a claim. Setting the lantern on the gravel, she went to work putting a new line on her pole. She hadn’t fished in ages and the old tackle was worn.

  “Looks like you’re a born fisherwoman,” he observed when he came to perch on the rock beside her.

  “I used to fish a lot when I was young. Lark and I would come here and she’d read and I would catch sun perch. We had fun.” She drew her line through the eyehooks.

  He studied her as he bent over the bucket. Absently he peeled the shells off the crayfish and put the meat on his hook. “Did you have a good childhood?”

  Laughing softly, she glanced over. “No.”

  He nodded. “Your mother.”

  “My mother.” She stood throwing the line and the bobber into the water to test it. The tackle merrily danced on the still water and then steadied. She drew the line back in. “Would you peel one of those for me?”

  “You’re a fisherwoman and you can’t bait your hook?”

  “With a worm,” she noted.

  “You have no trouble threading a needle through a worm’s belly but you’re squeamish when a crawdad gives you a little love pinch.”

  “Love pinch?” Her brow lifted. “He nearly took the hide off.”

  Reaching for the bucket, he readied the bait. “Maybe he fell in love with you real quick and that’s his way of showing it.”

  “If a person loves me I’d prefer a gentle squeeze.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.” He stood and baited her hook. “There. I get whatever you catch for the effort.”

  “You’re welcome to it.” She threw the line out and then walked back up to the rock and sat down. Seconds later the bobber went under.

  “You got one! Jerk!”

  She yanked and hauled back. A perch flew up, swung back, and slapped Joseph in the face.

  He batted the catch free of his eyes. “You jerked too hard.”

  “You said jerk.”

  “I stand corrected.” He calmly removed the flopping fish from the hook. “Tug firmly.”

  “Men.” She sighed and glanced at him through lowered lids, grinning. “Never satisfied.” She threw out again.

  Backing up to his rock, he said quietly, “You know a lot about men, do you?”

  “Nothing. You’re the first man I’ve ever been around.”

  “What about your father?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t know a thing about him. He was never around and I learned not to ask questions.”

  “You don’t recall a man in your life?”

  She slowly shook her head. “I don’t recall much of my youth until I was around seven or eight years old. That’s when Mother started taking ill and the household and raising of Lark fell to me.”

  “Can’t imagine one so young with so much responsibility. Did you resent the intrusion in your life?”

  “Truthfully…” She jerked and missed the catch. Bringing in her line she checked for bait, and then threw out again. “I don’t recall ever having a childhood. Often Lark feels like my child. And Mother too.”

  “You have no other relatives?”

  “None that Mother’s ever spoken about.”

  “Has she always been this secretive?”

  “Always. She’s a bitter woman, I know that, but I care for her, and I try my best to love her. Sometimes she makes it hard.”

  The sounds of nature filled the air. A bullfrog croaked to its mate. It was too early for lightning bugs but they’d be around by the end of May, flittering about, flashing their tails.

  “What’re you thinking about?”

  Joseph’s voice brought her back. “I was just thinking about what a lovely evening it is.”

  Catching back a laugh, he baited his hook. “I suppose it is.” A piece of bait dropped and they simultaneously reached to get it. Heads bumped. Lyric met his eyes in the moonlight and her heart hammered so hard she thought her chest might explode.

  He leaned in closer and she shut her eyes in anticipation. When his lips touched hers she heard a soft sigh and realized it came from her. Not a friendly peck, but a man’s kiss. He tasted warm and faintly sweet. Their lips fit together as though God had made the mold. No awkward fumbling, only sweet, simple togetherness.

  He wasn’t in any hurry to break the contact. She wanted the moment to last forever.

  If what she was beginning to suspect was true—that Joseph wasn’t a bad man after all—then she knew God didn’t drop men like him in a woman’s path, not in Bolton Holler and not to a Bolton directly. This past moment was a gift. God had undoubtedly made her and Joseph for a purpose, but in her heart she feared this man wasn’t intended for her. She couldn’t saddle him and his future with the daughter of a madwoman.

  Wherever his past or future lay she wasn’t a part of it, though at this moment, every fiber of her being wished it could be so.

  Life at the Bolton house settled to a more normal pattern. Joseph’s wounds continued to heal and for the following week the sheriff didn’t test Lyric’s sincerity. She knew his suspicions ran high; the injured stranger was still alive and improving every day, but the sheriff would have to find him before she’d willingly hand him over. She had no doubt that Joseph had been right when he said it was only a matter of time before the man and his posse would be back, but for now all she could do was take one day at a time.

  Ice patches melted and tiny fragrant irises poked their way through the newly awakened land. Lyric picked a huge bouquet of wild violets on her way back from milking, breathing deeply of the blue, sweet, intoxicating scent. The sun shone and the earth was coming alive. Spring was her favorite time of the year.

  When she topped the rise she spotted Katherine hurrying toward the house. Elated to see her friend, she quickened her steps, smiling. The two women hurried toward each other, Katherine swinging the familiar wicker basket. Lark hoped it contained something special from Katherine’s new kitchen.

  When they met up breathlessly they embraced. Only then did Lyric spot the tears rolling from the corner of Katherine’s eyes. “My goodness—is something wrong?”

  Mutely nodding, Katherine reached into her light jacket and took out a crisp handkerchief. Lyric took special note of the intricate hand-stitched embroidered hem, most likely a gift from a doting grandmother. The tears came more swiftly now and Lyric took her friend’s hand as they walked to the back porch steps. When they were about to enter the house, Katherine drew back. “Do you mind if we sit here in the fresh air?”

  “Not at all.” Had the town gossip begun to concern the Jennings? Lyric’s heart sank. Did Katherine now fear that her friend was someone less than…normal?

  But her opening words allayed the troubling thought. “Oh, Lyric. I’m going to miss you so much!”

  “Miss me?” She flashed a consoling smile. “I’m not going anywhere soon.”

  “Day before yesterday?”

  “Yes?”

&n
bsp; “The light—it came back.” She took deep gulps of breath. “I—we can’t take it anymore! The thing literally scares us speechless—even Levi, who isn’t afraid of anything.”

  Lyric sat up straighter. “Did it—threaten you?”

  “Threaten us? It didn’t rush us but it—it tormented us, Lyric. Bouncing here and there and peering into the windows.”

  “I’ve told you before it’s playful.”

  “It’s torment!” Katherine wailed. “It didn’t come in the room this time; it just sat on the windowsill and shimmered. Then it left. But it returned last night and I couldn’t take it anymore. I begged Levi to leave.” She broke down in heaving sobs.

  Slipping an arm around her friend’s waist, Lyric let her cry it out. There wasn’t much anyone could do if a body couldn’t take any more. If only that maddening light would go away. Who knew where it came from or why? There had to be a logical explanation buried somewhere in these hollers. If it meant harm, it would have acted long ago. The fact was, some things in life simply could not be explained.

  “Where will you go? You’ve just built your lovely home.”

  “Back to Joplin. We’ll have to live with Levi’s parents until we can rebuild.”

  The words speared Lyric’s heart like an ice pick. Her one and only friend gone, and it was only a matter of time before Joseph left too. She blinked back hot tears.

  “And you know what else?”

  “What?”

  Katherine wiped her eyes with the end of the hanky. “I think I’m going to have a baby.”

  “A baby!” Lyric exclaimed. The news made Katherine’s leaving even more painful to accept. Lyric would never have babies, but if Katherine stayed she could have helped care for the infant—pretend the child was hers…

  “Oh, Katherine, I’m so happy for you.” She leaned over to her friend and gave her a brief hug. “I’ve never been to Joplin and I know it’s a far distance—but perhaps once the baby comes Levi could bring you here—permit me to see it?”

  Nodding through glistening tears, Katherine nodded. “Levi and I are thrilled about the baby. I’ll make him promise to bring me here, Lyric. I don’t want to leave, and yet I can’t live under these conditions. The light doesn’t hurt us, but it keeps my nerves frayed until I can’t sleep at night for fear the light will intrude. And now I’m afraid it will upset me so much it will affect my child.”

  “I know.” Lyric patted Katherine’s arm. “I guess I accept and ignore it because I’ve lived with strange circumstances for so long the light is barely noticeable.”

  “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “If it’s a girl, I’m going to name it after you. Lyric. It’s a beautiful name and your friendship has meant so much to me for the brief time I’ve been here.”

  “Yours has been the bright spot in my life,” Lyric confessed. The two leaned together and hugged tightly for a long time. Before Katherine or Joseph had come into her life, Lyric had been content with her lot; now she wasn’t sure the loneliness wouldn’t eat her alive.

  “I’ll leave the address where we’ll be staying. You’d be welcome any time.”

  Lyric smiled, knowing that if Katherine mentioned the supernatural gossip surrounding Lyric and Lark they would be anything but welcome in the elder Jennings’ home.

  “Katherine, I haven’t mentioned this but I have something of a secret that I’ve been keeping from you. The wounded man I’ve been caring for is most likely an outlaw.” Lyric briefly explained why a suspected criminal now regularly ate at her table. “If he doesn’t regain his memory he is doomed to be hanged once the sheriff has the gumption to take him by force.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened. “Oh…how dreadful! You know for certain that he’s an outlaw?”

  “I thought I did, but now I have my doubts. I can’t make myself turn him over to the authorities until he knows who he is.”

  “But he may never tell you even if he does regain his memory. My father knew a man once who lost his memory and it never came back. Lucky for him he was married with four children. His wife said the accident allowed her to fall in love with him all over again.”

  “That is a lovely thought and I’ve considered the prospect, but I believe he will be honest with me.” If he never regained his memory it would be fine with her. Then maybe, just maybe, they could seek a life together with no jaded pasts to consider. His earlier kiss led her to believe that he had growing feelings for her—she couldn’t mistake the way he looked at her or allowed his hand to brush hers at the most unexpected moments.

  No. She shouldn’t think that way. It wasn’t fair to Joseph—or to her.

  “Lyric.” Katherine rested her hand on Lyric’s arm. “Be careful. You never know—this man might be dangerous once his memory returns.”

  “I know.” She’d thought of little else since he burst into her life.

  “Do you want Levi to take him to the authorities?”

  “No!” She met Katherine’s stunned gaze. “No. I don’t want him moved anywhere. Yet. And you’re not to mention a word of this to anyone—even Levi, if you can bear to keep my secret.”

  “Yet?”

  Katherine heard correctly. The hour was fast approaching when she had to decide to follow the law or follow her heart, but that hour had not arrived. Not yet.

  “Not yet,” she repeated aloud. “I have to know who he is for certain before I turn him over to the sheriff.”

  “You’re a romantic, aren’t you?” Katherine turned to study her. “You’ve fallen in love with this man.”

  “Guilty,” Lyric confessed, and then felt her features crack. “Oh, Katherine, why do women do such foolish things when it comes to men?”

  10

  Joseph jabbed a hoe into the soft earth and then dropped a potato seedling into the black fertile soil. He’d spotted the box of plants on the service porch and instinct told him the weather was warm enough to get the early crop into the ground. The garden spot sat half overturned, bearing silent witness to the recent upheaval in the Bolton household. He had a feeling that normally the soil would have been tilled by now. Grinning, he thought of the imaginary help she’d mentioned—“a big man with a gun who wasn’t afraid to use it”—and decided that he had begun to fill the job.

  Lyric sat on the back stoop visiting with the Jennings woman. The two seemed to have a warm friendship. He struck the ground and an image of a young boy planting seed potatoes, standing beside a woman wearing a blue and white bib apron, flashed through his mind. But the picture disappeared almost as quickly as it had materialized.

  Shaking his head, he poked another hole in the ground and dropped another seedling in a row running north to south. Today the effort to bend was less awkward; each new sunrise brought with it a bit more strength. For the first time since he’d come here he was starting to think that he might live long enough to be hanged.

  And for the first time rebellion burned like hot coals in his belly. God, if I am the man I’m thought to be, why didn’t You let me die? Hanging is fair punishment, but now I’m left to watch the look on Lyric’s face when I climb that platform. She’s an innocent bystander. Why involve her in this?

  And he knew she would be there. Wild horses wouldn’t keep her away, but he didn’t want her to witness the ugly sight. Maybe that was God’s punishment—to make him witness his sins in the most anguished way, through a woman’s eyes. A woman who appeared to put her trust in him.

  God, how I pray her faith isn’t in vain.

  He slowly moved down the row, planting, praying. After a bit he noted Katherine embracing Lyric and the young neighbor striking off toward home. Lyric slowly walked down the hill. When she reached the garden, she smiled. “Planting potatoes, I see.”

  “Hope you don’t mind. I needed something to fill the time.”

  “I don’t mind—but how did you know it was time to plant potatoes?”

  Pausing, he pulled the handkerchief knotted around his neck up and wi
ped away the perspiration from his forehead. “Couldn’t say. Instinct, maybe?”

  Nodding, she reached for a seedling and followed him down the row.

  “Did you have a nice visit with your friend?”

  “Not really. Katherine’s moving.”

  “Moving?” He dug another hole. “I thought you said they’d just settled here.”

  “They have, but the light keeps tormenting them.”

  He covered the hole with dirt. “That light again.”

  “The light.”

  Straightening, he met her eyes. “They’ve seen it too?”

  She nodded. “Everyone’s seen it.”

  Blue, yellow, bouncing. The image ricocheted through his mind.

  “I wondered if my mind was playing tricks. That thing leaves you with a heck of a question in your mind.”

  “Well, it bothers Levi and Katherine to the extent that they’re moving back to Joplin to live with his folks.” She sighed. “And she’s just discovered that she’s going to have a baby.”

  “That’s too bad—not about the baby, but allowing something that silly to scare them away.” He paused, leaning on the hoe. “You’ll miss her.”

  She sighed. “Very much.”

  “You honestly don’t fear the light?”

  “Joseph, nothing much frightens me except willfully disobeying the Lord or losing Lark. I think if the light meant any harm it would have done something by now. We’ve seen it over and over and it’s always been harmless.”

  “Still, a light bouncing around like that—”

  “Is disturbing. I can’t fault Katherine for wanting to leave. I want to leave, but not because—” She caught back her words.

  “Not because of the light,” he finished.

  “Correct. You want to see where some of the stories about the light originated?”

  “Are the places nearby?” He glanced at the long row. “There are still a lot of potatoes to plant.”

  “I’ll help later. Come with me.”

  He set the hoe aside and followed her across the field, feeling the heaviness that had been his constant companion start to lift from his shoulders.

 

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