by Irene Brand
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Without your whiskers, I feel like a different man is kissing me. I like the new you.”
“No, it’s the same man—one who’s missed being with you for too long and will count the minutes until Sunday.”
Chapter Twelve
When Louis returned to the Bar 8 with the third group of children, he purposefully pursued Norah, which upset her more than it should have. He asked to speak to her privately on Thursday evening, and she prayed that Mason wouldn’t show up while Louis was there.
She invited him into the house, rather than sitting on the porch. A strong southwest wind was making life miserable for humans and animals alike. Louis took Norah’s hand.
“Sit beside me here on the couch. I have some serious things to say to you.”
“I really wish you wouldn’t. It’s not the right time.”
“I’ve known you less than a month, so perhaps it is a little soon, but there’s so much to be done for the salvation of the world, and so little time to do it that I can’t delay.”
Norah tried to remove her hand from his, but he held on tightly.
“Norah, I’m asking you to marry me.”
When she started to remonstrate with him, he placed a finger on her lips.
“Hear me out. I know I’m springing this on you rather quickly, but I’ve given it a great deal of thought and prayer. I’m leaving for Africa in November, and I want you to go with me. As my wife, you wouldn’t need a mission appointment, and you’d be a valuable asset to our mission station. As my wife, you can fulfill your lifetime dream.”
Protesting, Norah said, “But, Louis, I hardly know you. I don’t love you.”
“I understand that. I don’t feel that I love you yet, either, but love will come. We have so much in common that it seems a perfect match. I’ve dreaded the thoughts of returning to my post alone, but with you at my side, I’ll go gladly. Don’t turn me down until you’ve thought about it.”
Norah’s throat constricted, her lips trembled and she was afraid she would start crying. She should be rejoicing that the way was clear at last for her to be a missionary. If that was so, why did she feel so hollow inside, as if all the light had gone out of her world?
“I’ll think about it,” she struggled to say and sat as rigid as stone when Louis leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips.
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow, and I hope you’ll have an answer for me soon.”
What could she do? If Louis was an objectionable person, it would be easy to say no. But he was a fine man, and she believed he would be a kind, considerate husband. But she didn’t love him.
Norah turned off the downstairs lights and went upstairs. She drew the bath, and soaked in the tub until the water was lukewarm. She rubbed her body with a soothing lotion and went to the bedroom. Her heart was troubled, and she reached for the Bible—the only place she hoped to find an answer.
She needed the direction of the Holy Spirit more than she’d ever needed it before. In this case, it wasn’t a decision between good or bad, for to go with Louis to the mission field would certainly be a good thing. Should she refuse him for no reason other than her confused feelings toward Mason?
Norah found two Scriptures that seemed to fit her particular situation, but they brought no joy to her heart. One passage in particular dealt with the cost of following Jesus. Jesus had approached a man about following him, and the would-be disciple had answered, “I will follow you, Lord, but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.”
Was Norah Williamson being like that man? I’ll follow you, Lord, but…let me follow at my own convenience…but let me follow by choosing the place where I’ll serve…but let me follow with Mason instead of Louis.
Jesus’s answer to the man brought condemnation to Norah’s heart. “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”
Usually, reading the Scriptures was encouraging to Norah, sending her to bed with a peace of mind that brought sleep speedily. But not so tonight. She lay awake for hours as the faces of Mason and Louis flashed back and forth in her mind’s eye. She knew that her feelings for Mason had progressed beyond mere friendship, but never having been in love, she couldn’t determine if she felt for Mason the deep-seated, fervent love that would last for a lifetime.
Nor did she know for sure that Mason loved her. It would be foolish to turn down an opportunity to serve on the mission field because of Mason, when she didn’t even know how he felt about her. His few kisses had played havoc with her emotional equilibrium, but did they originate from a heart of love? Who could she ask what love was like? Sheila? No doubt the young woman would have plenty of advice, but Norah couldn’t discuss this situation with anyone.
Although she wasn’t a weepy woman, Norah cried herself to sleep when there seemed to be no answer from God.
Norah and Mason went riding on Sunday afternoon, and Mason could easily detect that Norah was preoccupied. She didn’t show her obvious enjoyment of the prairie as she usually did. She stared straight ahead, speaking only when he asked her a direct question.
When they came to a lake, Mason said, “The deer have made a nice trail around this lake. It’s about a mile long. Feel up to a walk?”
“Yes, why not? I’m not getting enough exercise, and it’s showing in my waistline.”
“I don’t know why you worry about your weight. A lot of men, including me, don’t prefer women who’re thin as a rail. Ranch women are usually too busy to count calories. As long as you’re healthy, a few extra pounds don’t hurt anything.”
It was good to know that Mason was pleased with her physical appearance, but that still didn’t mean he had any long-term plans for her in his life. Would she have to tell him about Louis’s proposal to find out?
Mason took off his boots and put on a pair of walking shoes that he carried in his saddle bags before they started around the path. The crystal-blue lake was surrounded by one of the largest sand dunes in the state, where lush grasses intermingled with stands of conifers. A few red cedar skeletons stood against the skyline, and Norah looked upward at the squeal of a red-tailed hawk expertly riding the air currents above them. A ground squirrel beside the path also heard the hawk’s call, and he darted into his burrow. They walked silently, each engrossed in their own thoughts, quietly enjoying nature. At the end of the circular trail, Norah leaned against Daisy, her arms folded over the saddle.
“Louis asked me to marry him and accompany him when he goes back to Africa in November.”
After the first shock waves riffled through his body, Mason said, “So that’s why you’re moody today.” It was something he’d feared—a situation he wasn’t ready to deal with today.
“Yes, it’s constantly on my mind. I can’t think of anything else.”
“Are you going to say yes?”
“I don’t know—my mind’s in a quandary. It seems like a golden opportunity to do what God called me to do when I was a girl.”
His heart was beating at a rapid rate, and Mason could hardly stand the suspense. The thought of her being held in another man’s arms weakened him, and he leaned against his mount for support. In that moment, when he was on the verge of losing Norah, Mason finally realized that he loved her. He’d found a woman to love, one to fill the lonely hours of his life, but she was a woman who’d pledged her life to a special service to God. How could he ask her to stay with him when this might be the opportunity she’d wanted? Without looking at her, Mason said, “Then why are you hesitating?”
“I don’t know Louis well enough to make such a decision, for one thing.” He could feel her eyes looking at him. “What do you think I should do?” she asked pointedly.
This was his opportunity. Perhaps if he said, “Stay here with me,” she’d accept. But would she live to regret it? She’d adjusted slowly to the Sand Hills region in good weather. And winter in this area was really the test of a person’s adapta
bility to the environment.
The hardest thing Mason had ever done was to keep his voice from betraying his blighted hopes, and to say, “That’s a question I can’t answer for you. All you can do is ask God to guide you and follow His leading. If you make a decision not in keeping with God’s will, you’ll never be happy. I’ll pray for you to make the right choice.”
“Thanks, Mason.” It was obvious to Norah that making her decision wouldn’t be too hard. Mason didn’t seem to mind that she would marry another man and step out of his life completely. So it wouldn’t be a decision between Louis and Mason, but whether or not she wanted to take Louis up on his offer.
On Saturday, Norah was on her way home from grocery shopping in Valentine when she noted the signs of an impending storm. The day had been hot and humid, with practically no wind. Large clouds appeared in the sky, and she heard thunder in the distance, accompanied by a cloud that became dark and dense. Rounded masses at the bottom of the cloud twisted sinuously.
The storm had spawned a tornado! She needed to take cover, and she was several miles from home. She’d always been taught to try and outrun a tornado by traveling in an opposite direction from the way the storm was moving, but she couldn’t determine the storm’s route.
If she couldn’t take cover, she should either lie flat on the ground or in a ravine, but as she turned off the highway toward the Flying K, it seemed as if the tornado was going away from her, so she accelerated the car, hoping to reach the ranch and Mason. The wind from the storm was so strong that it buffeted her small auto like a skiff tossed on the ocean waves.
Mason had taken the two dogs to the storm cellar, and when he saw Norah turn into his driveway, he raced to her.
“I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life,” he cried as he jerked open the door of her car. “Sheila telephoned that you might be out in the storm. Hurry. We’ll have to go to the storm cellar.”
He took Norah’s hand and pulled her from the car. Still holding her hand, he started running, almost jerking Norah off her feet as he raced behind the house. Lightning flashed, heavy rain and hail began to fall. A tree limb blew past and struck them, breaking Mason’s stride. A hissing sound increased to a loud roar, but he rushed ahead to a set of steps that led into a small underground room, lit now by a propane lantern. The two dogs were whining and cowering in a corner.
With difficulty, Mason closed the slanted door against the sucking wind, hooked it from the inside and gathered Norah into his arms.
“Don’t promise to marry Louis Masters just yet,” he shouted above the clamor of the storm. “I love you, Norah. I didn’t know how much until I thought you might be caught out in this storm. I don’t want you to go against God’s will for your life, but maybe there’s another way.”
Norah snuggled into his cozy embrace, and in spite of the storm over their heads, she felt secure.
“All right, Mason, I won’t be hasty about it.”
The noise over their heads was horrendous, until suddenly there was a terrible calm.
“That’s when it’s ready to strike,” Mason said, as he stood and paced around the small room. The ceiling was so low that his head was only an inch from the top. “I may lose everything I have.”
Norah took his hand, and she encouraged him to sit on a cot that had a thin mattress on it.
Hoping to divert his attention, she said, “Are there many tornadoes here? Do you have to use the storm cellar often?”
He sat at Norah’s side, clutching her hand so tightly that her fingers numbed, but she suffered the discomfort in silence. Whining, the dogs curled up at their feet, and Mason soothed them with a few words.
“When I was a child, before we had radar to track storms, I spent many nights in the cellar. If the weather was stormy, Dad would grab some blankets, pick me up out of bed and bring me down here. Sometimes I wouldn’t even wake up. Once I was safe, he’d sit on the porch and watch the skies.”
“It’s a dry place to wait out a storm.”
Norah was no stranger to tornadoes, because many passed through Missouri, and she mentioned a time or two when tornadoes had struck close to their home.
“We’ve never had much damage on the Flying K, but I’m afraid this time we will have.” He stood and walked toward the door. “I imagine the storm is past now, so I might as well see what’s happened.”
He lifted the door, stood on the steps and peered out. It was raining, and the wind was blustery, but the thunder and lightning had receded into the distance. Mason said nothing, and Norah went to stand beside him.
“Well?”
“The barn is gone!”
“Oh, Mason.”
He climbed the steps. “The house looks all right, though. Come on up if you want to. I can see the storm to the northeast, so you’ll be safe in the house. Leave the dogs down here for the time being.”
The yard was white with large pieces of hail, and the wind from the northwest was several degrees colder than it had been before the storm. Twisted timbers and scattered bales of hay were scattered where the huge barn had been before, but the silo stood intact. The barn roof was lying a half mile away in the pasture.
“Go in the house, Norah. I’m going to look around and see what other damage there is.”
“Let me come with you.”
Mason nodded and held out his hand. Oblivious to the rain that drenched her clothing, she clasped his hand as he walked among the buildings. Stripped of their leaves, the trees were as bare as they’d be in winter. Twisted limbs were scattered among the other debris. Mason ran toward the two cottonwood trees that had been planted by his grandmother. One of them was split from top to bottom, and at its base lay six cattle.
“It’s Buster,” Norah said sadly, noting the Hereford bull lifeless on the ground.
“Yes,” Mason said in a low, tormented voice. “I guess he won’t scare you again.” Norah shuddered at the anguish on his face.
Tears came to Norah’s eyes. She’d long ago gotten over her fear of the bull and had come to regard him with some nostalgia, since he’d been responsible for her dramatic meeting with Mason. Seeing him lying there was like losing an old friend.
“I’ll go to the house and fix some coffee,” she said, thinking he might want to be alone for a while.
He nodded. “Get the cell phone from my truck and see if you can contact Doug or Sheila. I want to know if there’s been any damage at the Bar 8. I’m sure glad the kids are gone for the weekend.”
As she walked toward the house, Norah marveled that Mason’s truck and her car hadn’t been damaged, but it seemed the tornado had only touched down in the barn area. She found the phone and dialed Doug’s cell phone.
“We’ve been worried about you,” he said when Norah said hello. “Thank God you’re all right and able to talk on the phone.”
“I know enough about prairie storms to take shelter. How are things at the Bar 8?”
“We’re okay,” Doug said, “but I thought the storm was hanging close to the Flying K. Any problems?”
“Lots of them. The barn is gone, and at least six cattle were killed.”
“We’ll come right over,” Doug said.
She turned from the phone when Mason entered the room. “Everything’s all right at the Bar 8.”
Mason’s shoulders were stooped more than usual, and he walked as if he were in a trance. As she prepared the coffeemaker, Norah asked, “Did you find any other damage?”
“The roof is ruined on the machinery shed, but thanks to God, none of the machinery is destroyed. It could have been much worse.”
Heaving a deep sigh, he sat at the table and stretched out his legs. Norah stood behind him and massaged his neck and shoulders. He closed his eyes and surrendered his strong body to the soothing strokes of her hands, slowly feeling at peace with the damage to his property. But what if he’d had to endure the storm and its aftermath alone? What if, at the end of the summer, Norah left the Bar 8 and he hadn’t done anything about
it? What if Norah married Louis Masters and went to Africa?
“You’ll never know how much your company has meant to me today,” he said. “When I thought you might have been caught in the storm, I was scared out of my wits. After these months together, I can’t imagine a life without you. I meant what I said in the cellar. Let’s forget all the ‘ifs and ands’ and get married.”
Before she could answer, a truck door slammed, and Doug and Sheila ran into the house. Feeling deflated, Norah dropped her hands and moved away from Mason’s chair.
“At least the two of you are safe,” Sheila said, tears in her eyes. “Doug was watching, and when the funnel lifted, black with debris, he was sure it had hit the Flying K.”
“Have you heard if anyone else had any damage?” Mason asked.
“Except for some minor hail and wind damage, our folks’ ranches are all right,” Sheila said.
“The way the tornado headed, I figure it missed the other ranches nearby, but it’s a bad storm. It’ll probably touch down again,” Doug said.
Mason lifted himself from the chair. “Come on. You might as well see what’s happened,” he said.
“I’ll have some sandwiches ready when you get back,” Norah said.
“I’ll stay and help Norah. I’ve already seen enough tornado aftermath in my life.”
“Here’s some leftover roast beef in the refrigerator,” Norah said, checking out Mason’s supplies. “If you’ll slice that for sandwiches, I’ll prepare an apple cobbler and pop it in the oven. We can serve it warm with milk or ice cream on it. Mason needs all the coddling he can get right now.”
Sheila nodded as she opened a loaf of bread. “Doug’s worried about him. Most ranchers can’t afford to carry the coverage they need, so he probably won’t receive enough insurance to pay for the barn. Mason has had a few financial reverses the past two years. That’s the reason he’s selling the Bar 8.”
