by Karen Kirst
Kate appeared uncertain. “I suppose so. Are you positive you want one?”
“Of course, dear.” She patted Kate on the shoulder. “You’re part of the family now.”
She dipped her head, but not before Josh caught sight of the sudden tears springing to her eyes. He yearned to hold her then, to ease her loneliness. Anger rose hot and swift in his chest at the way her parents and sister had alienated her, made her feel inadequate. How could they not see how kindhearted and special she was?
When she’d finished showing Pa how to work the camera, Mary suggested, “Why don’t you stand over there with Joshua and Nathan?”
Nathan settled a hand on Josh’s shoulder and addressed her. “Sorry, Ma, I’ve got a barn full of cows waitin’ to be milked. Kate, I hope you understand.”
With a parting squeeze, he strode away. Josh made a mental note to take both of his brothers to task later on. While Caleb had been just plain rude, Nathan had bailed in a sly attempt to push the two of them together.
Ma linked an arm with Kate and him and guided them to the tree. “I suppose it’s just the two of you, then.” She sounded much too cheerful to his ears.
Flushed with embarrassment, Kate glanced over at Josh and caught his intense scrutiny. Did this make him uneasy? It certainly made her feel that way. The knowledge that she was leaving made being near him difficult.
Mary urged them closer until their shoulders touched, then went to stand beside Sam. “Look and see if that’s gonna be a good shot,” she urged.
“I’m curious,” Josh said softly without turning his head, “how many portraits you’ve had taken of yourself. Since you’re usually behind the camera, that is.”
Still staring at the camera, she replied, “Very few. I’m sorry you’ve been placed in this position. Don’t feel compelled to ask for a copy of the print if you don’t want one.”
“Why would you say that?” He did turn his head then. “Of course I want one.”
Though she knew it was irrational, his vehemence pleased her deep inside.
“All right, you two,” Mary called, “we’re ready. Joshua, unless you want to be caught forever mooning at Kate, look over here.”
Kate heard his heavy sigh and almost smiled. Hardly daring to breathe, they stood unmoving until Sam replaced the cover as she’d instructed him to do.
“I guess that’s it,” Mary announced with satisfaction. “Thank you so much, Kate.”
“It was my pleasure,” she assured her, moving to gather up her equipment. “I’ll develop these as soon as possible and make sure you get a copy of each one.”
Josh’s hand closed over hers. “I’ll help you with this.”
She released the tripod stand with reluctance. “Thank you.”
Mary and Sam headed for the house. Beside her, Josh was quiet as they walked across the yard. When he’d deposited her gear on the table, he slipped his hands into his pockets and regarded her with questioning eyes.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Josh.” She sighed.
“Is it me? Have I done something to anger you or make you upset?”
“I’m leaving.”
His head jerked back. “Gatlinburg?”
Gripping the top rung of the chair rail, she nodded. “It’s time.”
“I don’t understand,” he ground out. “What about the studio? And your book?”
“I can’t get over the fact that I’m standing in the way of your dream. If you don’t want the store space, I’ll put it up for sale. As for the book, I’m shelving that idea for the time being. Perhaps in the future…”
“You didn’t do it intentionally.”
“My intentions are irrelevant.”
“What can I do to convince you that I don’t blame you for any of this?”
“Simply put—I can’t enjoy it. Every time I step foot in there, I think of you and your furniture and all the hard work you’ve done to achieve your goals. I’ve made up my mind, Josh. Nothing you can say will change it.”
The next morning, Josh was in that drifting state between sleep and wakefulness when his mother poked her head in his room. “Joshua? Are you awake?”
“Not exactly,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“Are you going to be around today?”
He struggled to open his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll be in the workshop. Why?”
“Your father and I have some business to attend to. Caleb is accompanying us.”
That got his attention. Pushing upward, he peered at her. “Oh? What did you use to bribe him?”
Ignoring his remark, she said, “Nathan is headed over to the Foster farm, and I’m not sure what time he plans to be back. I don’t want Kate left alone. Can you keep an eye on her?”
“Sure. I’ll be around all day.”
“Oh, good,” she said, relieved. “I’m going down to fix coffee.”
When she’d left, Josh cradled his head in his hands and stared up at the ceiling.
Kate’s announcement yesterday had sent him reeling. While he was touched by her concern for his happiness, he couldn’t comprehend her reasoning. He’d seen her in action—it was plain as day that she loved her work. Owning a studio would not only give her an avenue to pursue her passion, it would also grant her independence from her family. She had a chance at a new life here.
She had new friends. And his family had practically adopted her. Not only that, but she loved these mountains as much as he did.
After all the sorrow in her life, she deserved this.
It also struck him as odd that he wasn’t jumping at the chance to take possession of the store. Here she was, offering to hand it over, and all he could think about was her happiness.
He may not have a store to stock, but he still had customer orders to fill.
There’d be other opportunities for him to expand, but apparently God had other plans at this time. So he’d just keep doing what he’d been doing. Taking individual orders and doing his utmost to please his customers.
Lord, I’m so confused. The thought of her leaving kills me. Help me, Father. I must keep my wits about me. Remember all the reasons we can’t be together.
Downstairs in the kitchen, he asked, “Have you seen Kate this morning?”
“She stopped in earlier.” Ma wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. “All she wanted was a cup of tea. Said she wasn’t hungry.”
“Hmm.” Brows pulled together, Josh glanced out the dining room windows. Had she been eating at all the past few days? Worried, he debated going over there.
Then he noticed the sky’s odd color. “Are you going far? Looks like it might rain.”
“No. And I’m sure your father will keep an eye on the weather. See you later, dear.”
She went to join his father and brother in the barn, and he heard the team pull out not long after. He ate his breakfast with haste, not lingering to savor his coffee as he would’ve if Kate had joined him at the table.
Outside, a stiff breeze raised goose bumps on his arms. Holding on to his hat, his boots ate up the distance between the main house and the cabin. Music greeted him on the front steps. One foot on the porch, his hand gripping the railing, he paused to listen.
The delicate, ethereal notes put him in mind of angels and cherubs, of lush flower gardens and flowing waterfalls. Kate’s harp, he mused. Lovely music suited to a sophisticated, talented young lady.
Would she let him watch her play? he wondered.
A raindrop splattered on his hand, then another. Eyeing the rain-swollen clouds hanging low in the pale yellow sky, he realized with a pang of disappointment that he’d have to wait for another time. He was
in for a soaking if he didn’t get to his shop soon.
With one last glance at Kate’s door, he pivoted on the step and sprinted away.
Kate discovered that weathering a thunderstorm in a solidly constructed mansion was vastly different than in a two-room, built-by-hand cabin. Huddled on the sofa beneath a mound of quilts, she winced at each flash of lightning and the resounding boom of thunder that shook the cabin’s foundation right afterward. Dark clouds had rolled in about an hour earlier and the storm didn’t show signs of abating.
Unceasing rain thundered against the roof. Gusts of wind rammed into the walls.
She hugged her Bible to her chest and prayed. She’d never lived through a tornado and so didn’t know what to expect. What if one raged outside her door? What would she do? Where would she go?
The door flew open then, slamming back against the wall. Kate screamed.
Josh stood on the porch, water sluicing off his hat and poncho.
“The storm’s getting worse,” he shouted above the din. “Put your boots on. And a warm jacket. We’re gonna take cover.”
Spurred by the urgency in his voice, Kate did as she was told. While she didn’t relish the thought of venturing outside, she’d rather ride out the storm in Josh’s company than alone.
When she joined him on the porch, he reached past her to close the door.
“Ready?”
His concerned gaze searched hers, and it took all her willpower not to throw herself in his arms.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she told him.
“Let’s go then.”
Her hand tucked safely in his, they hurried down the steps and dashed across the yard. Soaked to the skin in the space of a minute, she regretted not taking a hat to shield her face. The rain pelted her tender skin. The wind whipped her dripping hair in her eyes.
As soon as they reached the orchard, Kate realized their destination. The apple house.
She wanted to rail at him for his insensitivity! How dare he bring her here of all places?
Surely he hadn’t forgotten her fear of dark, cramped spaces!
Shoving open the door, he put an insistent hand against her lower back, silently urging her inside.
Kate resisted, digging her heels in the wet soil. The sound of her heart roaring in her chest drowned out his words and the storm raging all around them. She would not, could not go in there.
Josh noticed at once the change that came over her. All color drained from her face, and she raised stricken eyes to his.
“I can’t!” Terror radiated off her in waves. “I’m going back to the cabin!”
Thunderclouds roiled like boiling soup directly above their heads. Caught in the storm’s fury, tree limbs thrashed wildly about. Tornados weren’t a common occurrence in these parts, but he didn’t want to chance being out in the open. And her cabin was surrounded by trees that could potentially be uprooted.
As much as he hated to cause her distress, he had to put her safety first.
“This is our best shelter,” he said as he urged her forward. “I’ll light one of the oil lamps before I close the door. You’ll see—there will be plenty of light.”
Her fingers dug into his arm, her expression begging him to find another alternative.
“You don’t understand!” Her voice was high and shrill. “I’d rather be anywhere else! I’d rather stay right here than go in there.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. This is our only choice.” He hated to see her so upset, but what other option did he have?
An abandoned milk pail flew past their heads, missing them by mere inches. That settled it.
Snaking his arm around her waist, he propelled her inside. He had the door shut before she had time to resist.
There were no windows here. The darkness inside the low, squat building was complete. He couldn’t make out her shape.
“Josh, no!” She gasped and lunged past him in a desperate bid for the door.
Stunned by her response, it took a split second for him to react. He darted forward and hauled her back against him, hugging her trembling body close.
“Hey,” he murmured against her ear, “it’s all right. You’re safe here.”
Something was terribly wrong. This was no ordinary fear of the dark. Josh determined right then and there he was going to find out the reason behind it. But first he had to calm her down.
“Let me go!”
Struggling against his hold, she attempted to pry his arms away, her fingernails scraping his skin. He held firm. She was crying in earnest now. The pitiful sound broke his heart.
“Kate, my love,” he said as he pressed his face close to hers. “Remember my promise? You’re safe with me. Remember? Safe.”
He continued to murmur words of encouragement while praying furiously for help from the Almighty above. Gradually she ceased struggling, her sobs abating to hitched breaths.
She was silent for an eternity, the sound of their ragged breaths loud in the enclosed space.
“Kate?”
“Y-yes?”
“I’m going to light a lamp, okay?”
It seemed like a lifetime in coming, but at last she jerked a nod.
When he eased his arms from around her, he didn’t move away until he was certain she wasn’t going to bolt again. Or slide to the floor in a heap.
Jaw clenched tight enough to crack his teeth, he crouched low and swung his hand in a wide arc in search of the lamp he’d brought. His fingers brushed the glass and it toppled beyond his reach.
“Don’t move, okay? I’m gonna open the door so I can see to light the lamp.”
He could hear nothing but the wind howling outside.
“Kate?”
“O-okay.”
Scuffing his boots along the dirt, he moved forward until he encountered the door. He eased it open. Caught up by the violent wind, leaves swirled in funnels about the yard. The chickens squawked in the confines of their house.
He’d lost precious time rounding up the skittish animals and securing the barn doors. But everyone else was gone, so it fell to him to do it alone.
Lord, please spare us. And the farm, too. Protect my family.
Working quickly, he located the lamp and fished the match out of his pocket. His fingers shook when he tried to light the wick. He grimaced. He must’ve transferred all his calm to Kate and in turn assumed her nervousness.
The wick flared to life, casting a golden glow in a wide circle. Setting it in the dirt near Kate’s feet, he sucked in a deep breath. “I’m going to close the door. Is this enough light?”
She kept her face averted. “I think so.”
He hurried to do the task, getting a face full of rain as the wind changed direction. He slipped off his hat and poncho, hanging them from a nail protruding from the shelf on the wall, then turned to stare at her bedraggled form.
“You’re soaked. Would it help to take off your jacket?”
After a moment’s thought, she undid the buttons and slipped it off. Her fingers were like ice when they brushed against his. Hanging her jacket on top of his poncho, he returned to her side. She rubbed her arms in an effort to get warm.
Uncertain as to what to do to comfort her, he sat down on the low bench. “Come sit with me. I’ll warm you.”
When she lifted her head, Josh nearly gasped at the pain and vulnerability in her expression. “I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Her gaze slipped to the floor. “Never mind.”
“Kate, please.” He needed to comfort her as much as he needed to be comforted. Her outburst had rattled him as nothing else ever had.
With hesitant steps, she came and sat a good six inches away, her back ram
rod straight. Feeling like a youth, he curled his arm around her shoulders and scooted in close.
“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you want,” he said.
About five minutes passed before he felt her relax, her head shifting against him. He recognized it as a small victory. They sat together listening to the storm rage over their heads.
When he could stand the silence no longer, he voiced the question on the tip of his tongue. His fingertips lazily stroked her arm. “What happened to make you fear the dark?”
“It was a long time ago,” she said haltingly, her muscles tensing up again. “I haven’t told anyone. Ever.”
“Talking about it may lessen the power it has over you.”
She lifted her head but didn’t move away. “Or it could make the nightmares worse.”
His fingers stilled. His own body tensed. Whatever had happened, it was going to be hard to hear.
“My parents traveled quite frequently when we were young. We were left in the care of nannies and, as we got older, governesses. The spring I turned six, Mother hired Nanny Marie.”
Her voice dipped so that he had to strain to hear her. “She was an angry woman. I never could figure out what I’d done to make her angry…”
Josh steeled himself, dreading her next words, yet knowing she needed to find release.
Her features twisted in hurt bewilderment. “Nearly every day for six months, she locked me in the supply closet. Left me there for hours in the dark. Common, everyday items took on a life of their own. From an adult’s perspective, there was nothing in there that could’ve hurt me, but for a small child—” She broke off, shivering.
Rage burned in his gut at the vicious stranger who’d done this. Ruthlessly he pushed it down to deal with later. Kate had her hands full coping with her own emotions. She didn’t need to deal with his, too.
“Did your parents prosecute this woman?”
“They never knew what happened. She resigned her position without warning, and we never heard from her again.”
“You didn’t tell them because she threatened you.”
