by Irene Brand
“I learned today that I’ll have the first week of July free, too, so I can help with the gathering at your ranch in July.” She stood awkwardly. “I’m going to walk while you finish. My legs are stiff from riding.”
“Don’t go far. The food is almost ready. Besides, there are rattlesnakes in some of these canyons.”
She stopped abruptly. “You’ve said the magic word—snake. I’ve decided I don’t need a walk.” She did a few simple stretching exercises to loosen her muscles until Mason said the food was ready.
The campfire had laced the meat with a pungent, smoky taste, and Norah commented to Mason that she’d never tasted any food that was more satisfying. “So you’ve introduced me to another new experience. Thanks.”
His smile sent her pulses racing. “We’ll plan other cookouts before the summer is over.”
He produced slices of carrot cake from the saddlebags, and when Norah took her first bite, she said, “This didn’t come from a deli!”
“You’re right, but I didn’t make it, either. Sheila’s mother bakes cakes and pies for me occasionally, and she wraps portions for the freezer. I took this from the freezer this afternoon.”
“You have good neighbors.”
“Sure do. Settlers in the Sand Hills depended on their neighbors, and it’s become our way of life. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed since my great-grandfather homesteaded here,” Mason reminisced as they ate. “In the early days, everybody avoided the Sand Hills because there weren’t many trees, not much rainfall and anyone who tried to farm this land failed. But my ancestor brought a herd of cattle from Texas and turned them loose to graze on the lush grass. They multiplied. When it was discovered that there was so much water underground, and that all you had to do was dig a well and put up a windmill, my father started irrigating. With the hay and grain we raise now, ranching is more profitable and much less risky than it once was.”
Norah relaxed, listening to the soft tone of Mason’s voice. A pair of ducks flew overhead, probably heading for the small pond that had claimed her hat.
“The Kings haven’t been very prolific,” he continued in a pensive tone. “My father was the only child of my grandparents who lived to adulthood. I’m an only child, and now that I have no children, the King line has about run out. I don’t know what will happen to the ranch when I die.”
“Pardon me for being nosy, but why haven’t you married?” She almost gasped at her own audacity. Her face flushed, but Mason didn’t seem to notice.
She thought that he was everything any woman could want, and was shocked to realize how many of her waking hours were spent thinking about Mason. Why was she so sensitive to this man’s masculine appeal? Again, she wondered if Sam had characterized her correctly when he’d dubbed her a foolish old maid.
She received another shock when Mason said, “I was married, but it isn’t a period of my life I like to talk about.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I asked. Please forgive me.” She was surprised at the raw, naked pain reflected on his face.
“No, it’s all right, Norah,” he said slowly as he stood and scattered the coals of the fire. “I want you to know, but we’ll talk about it another time. Right now, I need to pack the equipment so we can reach the hill before it’s dark. I want you to experience the full pleasure of having night fall around you.”
“I’ll help with the cleanup,” she said hurriedly, embarrassed at bringing up a part of his past that disturbed him.
“Bring a bucket of water from the creek to douse the fire while I clean our utensils. Also, pick up any paper that might have blown away.”
When Mason helped Norah back into the saddle, she was aware of some chafed, sore places on her legs and posterior, but she was determined that Mason wouldn’t know anything about her discomfort. The trail out of the coulee was steep, and Norah clutched the reins, fearing she might fall backward. But Daisy kept her footing, following Mason and the burro, until they reached the top of the hill.
Once they dismounted, Mason spread a blanket on the ground and handed another one to Norah. “Wrap this around you if you get cold.”
He brought the saddles and placed them on the blanket. “We may be here a few hours, and saddles make good backrests. I often use mine for a pillow when I camp overnight.”
They’d stopped beside a blowout, a deep hole in the earth created by the wind. The blowout had little vegetation, but it was surrounded by grass which was more than two feet tall. The breeze was brisk, and before she sat down, Norah wrapped the extra blanket around her shoulders. She leaned her back against the saddle that still retained the warmth of the horse.
Mason and the horses were only dim outlines in the fast-approaching darkness. When he sat beside her, she found it difficult to make out his features. He stretched out on the blanket and put his head on the saddle. Even with Mason nearby, Norah was fearful and overwhelmed by the darkness—a darkness so thick, it could be felt.
“Look up!” Mason said.
The last time she’d looked at the sky, it had been darkish and obscure. Now the obscurity had disappeared, and the stars were visible, sparkling like diamonds across the heavens.
“How beautiful!” Norah whispered into a soundless universe.
“It’s awesome!” Mason agreed. “When I’m out on a night like this, I’m overwhelmed by the majesty of God. It’s awesome,” he repeated. “The Psalmist said that God knows the number of the stars. With our limited vision, we only see a portion of the heavens, and I can’t even count those stars, yet God knows how many there are in the whole universe. Do you see the Big Dipper?”
Norah shook her head, but realizing he couldn’t see the gesture, she said, “No.”
“I want you to see it before the moon comes up, which is going to happen soon. We’re facing east—you can see the glow of the moon. Look to your left, which is north.” He found her hand in the darkness, and pointed her toward the constellation. “There are seven stars in the Big Dipper, and the two stars in the front of the cup point to the North Star. Lots of nights, I’ve found my way home by watching the North Star.”
“Oh, yes, I see it,” Norah cried excitedly. “It looks just like the pictures in my elementary school science books. And there’s the Little Dipper! The North Star is at the end of the Little Dipper’s handle. This is exciting!”
“‘The heavens declare the glory of God; and the skies proclaim the work of His hands,”’ Mason softly quoted one of his favorite Bible verses.
“I’ve known that Scripture for years, but it takes on new meaning in a setting like this.”
The darkness intensified, and Norah held up her hand. “I’ve always heard of darkness so deep you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, but I didn’t believe it until now. Thanks for arranging this experience, Mason. It will help me master my fear of the night.”
He took her hand, and slowly the darkness receded as a brilliant glow appeared in the eastern sky and a sliver of moon peeped over the horizon. The radiance increased until the sky was flooded with light, and the stars could hardly be seen at all.
Norah felt as if she were in a holy place, such as the one Moses had experienced when God had told him to take off his shoes because he was standing on holy ground. With the glory of God displayed around her, she felt small and insignificant.
It was a time for silence, but she was so overcome by the majesty of the night that she softly quoted the words from another of David’s psalms.
“‘When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have set in place, what is man that You are mindful of him, the son of man that You care for him?”’
Mason squeezed her hand. “I’d intended to talk with you about my marriage tonight, but somehow this doesn’t seem to be the time nor the place. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Norah assured him. Tonight it seemed as if she and Mason were alone in the universe, and she liked it that way. It would spoil the pleasure of the night
to hear about a time when Mason had belonged to another woman.
Chapter Seven
They didn’t return to the Flying K until two o’clock in the morning, and Norah was so stiff and sore that Mason had to lift her from the saddle.
“Sorry I kept you out so late,” Mason said contritely. “I always get carried away when I’m out on a night like this, and I forget what time it is.”
The full moon cast its glimmering shadows over them, and Mason’s face, with his heavy whiskers and deep-set eyes, was mysterious and unreadable. But she discerned a half smile of affection playing across his mouth, and Norah’s fingers softly caressed his bearded cheek.
“Don’t apologize. I’ve never had a more wonderful time. I feel closer to God right now than I ever have in my life. I enjoyed the opportunity to appreciate the majesty of God and the wonders of His universe as we did tonight. Our time together gave me the courage I need to tackle my work this summer and make some difficult decisions about my future.”
Norah started toward her car, walking as stifflegged as a killdeer, and Mason said, “I’ll follow you to the Bar 8 to be sure you get there all right.”
“That isn’t necessary. I’ll be okay.”
“But I aim to make sure of it.” He tied the horses and burro to the hitching post. “It won’t hurt the animals to stand here until I get back. They’ve been munching on fresh new grass all evening.”
Norah didn’t protest further. She wasn’t sure she could keep her eyes open until she reached her destination, and it was a very comforting to see the steady headlights of Mason’s truck following.
At the Bar 8, he walked up on the porch with her and waited until he heard the lock turn before he went back to the pickup. A light came on in an upstairs bedroom, and Norah stepped in front of the window and waved. Mason tooted the horn, and with a satisfied smile on his face, headed toward the Flying K.
He hadn’t mentioned his marriage to anyone for years. Why did it suddenly seem so important to tell Norah about the time he’d lost both his wife and son? Would it be presumptuous to tell her why he wouldn’t take the risk of loving and marrying again?
Norah had intended to sleep late, but aching muscles brought her awake soon after daylight. From the waist down, there wasn’t a spot on her body that didn’t hurt. As determined as she was to become a part of Mason’s world, she doubted she’d ever swing her leg over another saddle.
A hot soaking bath eased a lot of the discomfort, but she still waddled like a duck when she went downstairs for breakfast. The memories of the beautiful evening remained in Norah’s mind all day as she planned menus and organized the kitchen to make it more convenient. Sheila came in the afternoon and helped to unpack and organize all the cooking pans, dishes, glassware and silver that they’d use during the summer.
At the end of the day, Norah went to the screenedin porch that held a half-dozen padded rocking chairs, a few low tables and a wooden swing. She was resting, drinking lemonade when Mason drove into the driveway.
Mason climbed the two steps, opened the screen door and sat down in a massive wooden rocker. He’d apparently had a hard day, too, for he sighed and stretched out his long legs. “Must be nice to have nothing to do but sit around on the porch.”
“Careful!” she said. “After what I’ve been doing today, those are fighting words.”
“Been busy, huh?”
“Yes, and I’m tired to the bone, but it’s a good feeling when I consider how much I’ve accomplished. Sheila and I have the kitchen ready for use, and we’re going shopping tomorrow. H & H headquarters e-mailed her today that they’d faxed some vouchers to the grocery store in Valentine. Now that I’m almost ready for them, I’m getting excited about the kids coming.”
Mason shuffled his feet. “If you’re not too tired to listen, I came to finish a conversation we started last night.”
“My ears aren’t tired—just the rest of my body. I’ll bring you a glass of lemonade, and then we can talk.”
She lifted her body gingerly from the chair and limped toward the inside door.
Watching her slow progress, Mason commented, “I figured you’d be a little uncomfortable today. I’ll bring Daisy to the Bar 8, so you can ride every day. It’ll take a while, but the way to get rid of the soreness is to ride consistently.”
Norah didn’t comment. She didn’t want him to know how discouraged she was by the effect the ride had on her. She poured lemonade over a glass of ice, put some cookies on a plate and placed them on a table by his chair.
Looking over the fields, Mason twirled the glass in his hand, still having trouble putting his past into words. Finally he turned to face her. “I married when I was nineteen, and my wife was a year younger. We’d been in love with each other since we were kids. One month before our first wedding anniversary, she gave birth to a stillborn son and died a few hours later.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
He acknowledged her sympathy with a nod. “I thought my life was over, but Dad, who’d also lost a young wife, knew how I felt. He thought I should get away from the Flying K for a while, so he encouraged me to go to college. I went to the University of Nebraska and graduated with a degree in agriculture. I was only twenty-five, and still had a life ahead of me, but I felt empty. However, I came back home and settled down to help Dad operate the ranch. We had several good years before he died.”
There were many questions that Norah wanted to ask. Why hadn’t he married again? Was he still mourning the loss of his wife? It seemed inconceivable to her that anyone would mourn so long, but she remained silent, waiting for Mason to continue at his own pace.
“Dad encouraged me to marry again and have a family. I dated a few women, but I always stopped short of asking anyone to marry me.”
“You didn’t love any of them?”
“I reckon that was it, but they were perfectly fine women, and I probably could have learned to love again. No, it went deeper than that. I was afraid to get married.”
“Afraid!”
“Not of getting married, but afraid of fathering another child. You see, I blame myself for my wife’s death. She was reluctant to get pregnant, but I wanted children to inherit the Flying K, and I finally persuaded her to have a baby. If I hadn’t done that, she’d be alive today.”
Norah hardly knew what to say, but he paused and looked at her, as if waiting for a comment.
“She might have lost the child even if you’d waited several years. But that still doesn’t explain why you haven’t married again.”
“Because,” he said, without meeting her eyes, “I wouldn’t risk another woman’s life to bring my children into the world.”
“There have been so many improvements in prenatal care and obstetrics that it’s rare for a woman to die in childbirth. In fact, it was unusual even when your wife died.”
“She had a rare blood disease that caused her problem.”
“So she would probably have had complications at any age.”
As if he hadn’t heard her, Mason said, “I kept thinking I would marry, but just didn’t get around to it. Finally, five years ago, I decided I was too old to take on the responsibilities of a child. A middle-aged man doesn’t have the strength and energy to keep up with a teenage kid. I didn’t want to be a senior citizen when my son went to college. I figured I’d make a lousy father.”
“Having never been married myself, I’m a poor one to comment, but there are other reasons for marriage besides bearing children. In fact, love is the only reason for people to marry. Having children is a by-product of their love.”
Mason didn’t seem to pay attention to her observation. “I wanted you to know about my unpleasant experience with marriage,” he said, with obvious relief that he’d told her what she needed to know. Changing the subject abruptly, he continued, “Did you sleep last night?”
“Yes. I was so tired when I went to bed that I forgot about the darkness. I know it’s childish to panic at the thought of living alon
e, but my life has always been stable, doing the same things week after week. I stayed in our family home alone for a few months after my father died, but I didn’t like it. That’s one reason I put the house on the market. But I’ll soon adjust to living by myself.”
“So when do your duties start?”
“The children will be coming soon, but several staff members will move in next Friday.”
“There are so many places I want to take you this summer.”
“I’m supposed to have weekends free, but that depends on my work schedule. I may have to spend some weekends preparing for the next week.”
“Then what shall we do this weekend?”
“Why not come tomorrow evening for supper? I’ve invited Sheila and Doug. There’s a gas grill on the back porch that I want to try before our guests arrive. That grove of cottonwood trees behind the house looks like it would make a good area for the children to have occasional cookouts. I’ll try it out on you and the Johnsons first.”
“What time?”
“Whenever you and Doug finish your work.”
“I’ll try to be here by half-past six. I’ll ride over and bring Daisy. We’ll spend some of your free time on riding lessons.”
Early the next morning, Sheila and Norah set out for Valentine, Sheila driving a truck and Norah following in her car, which she intended to leave at the garage for repairs. They spent a busy morning buying supplies, lunched at a small diner and returned to the Bar 8 by midafternoon.
Norah delighted in Sheila’s company. The young woman was intelligent, witty and helpful, and Norah found herself wishing she could have enjoyed such camaraderie with her sisters. The age difference between her and Sheila wasn’t a barrier, but her sisters always seemed to think that Norah was ancient and wouldn’t understand their thoughts and needs. As she often did, Norah wondered what she could have done to develop a better relationship with her siblings. Shaking herself mentally, she decided to forget the past, which she couldn’t change, and concentrate on the future.
