by Irene Brand
“But, Mason, I awakened this morning with the overwhelming conviction that God is nudging me in that direction. I’ll buy the ranch and lease it to the H & H year-round. The amount Jim Hanson said they would pay seems like a good return on my investment. Besides, don’t you see? This is my missionary work—to provide therapy for those who are mentally and physically impaired.”
He shook his head emphatically. “No, Norah, I won’t have it! I know why you’re doing this. And I won’t have you risk your inheritance to solve my financial problems.”
“Didn’t you listen to what I said? This will be my missionary work, serving in the way God can use me.”
“And you’d be staying in the Sand Hills.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never spent a winter up here. You might not like it.”
Norah was hurt that he was finding fault with her plan. She’d thought he would be overjoyed that she’d found her mission field in the Sand Hills.
“I thought you’d be pleased to have me for your neighbor.”
“I don’t want you for a neighbor. I want you for my wife.” His anger surprised the words right out of his mouth. “And I don’t want to be under obligation to my wife for saving me financially. I’d feel as if I was marrying you for your money.”
“You can’t keep me from buying the Bar 8,” Norah said stubbornly. “This is a business deal and has nothing to do with marriage. If that’s a proposal, it sure is a poor one, and I won’t demean myself by replying to it.”
Norah ran down the hallway into her bedroom and slammed the door—the first time the door had been closed since he’d come home from the hospital. Norah wasn’t normally a weepy woman, but she lay facedown on the bed and reached for a tissue to blow her nose and wipe her eyes.
When she’d left the bedroom this morning, she’d been convinced that this was the answer to her relationship with Mason. Her dream of a mission field would be realized, while at the same time, she and Mason could be together. He said he wanted her to be his wife, but why would he expect her to give up the divine calling she’d nurtured all of these years? He’d seemed so happy the past few weeks when she’d been at his instant beck and call. As his wife, would Mason resent her involvement in the H & H program?
Norah’s reaction to his refusal stunned Mason. He was only trying to protect her investment. Obviously she didn’t have the foggiest idea about running a ranch, or any kind of business for that matter. Her family involvement had sheltered Norah from the work-a-day world, and what kind of a man would he be if he took advantage of her inexperience and sold the Bar 8 to her? Would she buy the ranch if he didn’t own it, if she didn’t know he needed to sell that ranch to hang on to the Flying K? He had a sneaky suspicion that she wouldn’t, and if she lost her money, he didn’t want that on his conscience.
But he did feel low to have hurt her when she wanted to help him. He limped down the hallway, but when he was confronted with the closed door, he returned to the living room. They could work out the situation tomorrow.
Norah heard Mason’s steps at the door, and she was tempted to go to him, but she knew she couldn’t talk to him without crying, so she changed into her nightclothes and went to bed. Ashamed of her behavior, she didn’t look forward to facing him in the morning.
An awkward silence stretched between them when Mason sat at the table for his breakfast. Norah placed his plate before him and sat beside him with only a cup of coffee. Feeling like a hypocrite, he prayed for God’s blessing on the food, but he was dumbstruck. Although he and Norah had never had any difficulty conversing before, he couldn’t think of anything to say, and she didn’t seem inclined to talk. He ate the oatmeal and toast in silence while she occasionally sipped her coffee. Her eyes were downcast.
Clearing his throat, Mason said, “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
“I’m not mad. You have your opinion and I have mine.” Standing, she said, “Do you want anything else to eat or drink?”
“No.”
“We must leave for your therapy session in an hour,” she reminded Mason.
He telephoned the Realtor, in Norah’s hearing, saying, “I heard your message about the option, but I’m not sure I’ll go through with the sale. Put a hold on that option until I’m in touch.”
Mason listened to the Realtor’s remarks.
“Perhaps I am being foolish, but there are other matters I’m considering right now. I’ll contact you in a few days.”
Try as she might, on the trip to the hospital, Norah couldn’t think of anything to say, and the ride was made mostly in silence. Always before, the time had passed quickly, but with a silent Mason beside her, Norah was miserable. Even though they hadn’t talked constantly during their time together, she’d never sensed the restraint that bound their lips now.
They couldn’t even rejoice together over the doctor’s report that Mason wouldn’t require any further therapy at the hospital. The therapist gave instructions for exercises that he should continue to do at home, and with a sinking feeling, Mason realized he wouldn’t need a nurse any longer.
“I want to see you again in two months, and at that time,” the surgeon instructed, “I’ll expect you to walk into my office without a limp. Continue your work now, but at a slower pace. Start out working a few hours a day, driving short distances at first, and by the end of those months, you should be back on your normal schedule.”
“I’m really pleased for you, Mason,” Norah said as they left the hospital. “You’ve been a good patient.”
He shook his head. “Not very. I had a good nurse.”
Tears misted her eyes, but Norah said, “Do you want to drive part of the way home?”
“I’d like that. I may have forgotten how to drive.”
She handed him the key. “Be sure and tell me if you have any pain.”
“I’ll drive about half the way. I’ve suffered enough already—I’m not going to jeopardize my recovery now.”
The ice had been broken by these exchanges, and they talked sporadically as they traveled, but only about the scenery and the many migratory birds they saw. They didn’t mention the things that mattered most because their easy camaraderie was gone, and Norah mourned the passing of that as if she’d lost a loved one.
During supper, Norah turned the television on so they could watch the evening news, and that made the time more bearable. After they ate, Mason walked around the room several times, and the way he eased down in his chair, Norah could tell the long ride had been difficult for him.
She was preparing the coffeemaker for breakfast when the phone rang. The majority of the calls were for Mason, so Norah was surprised when he said, “Just a minute,” and held the phone toward her.
Norah walked to him and took the phone. “Sheila?”
“No. A man.”
“Norah.” Her brother Sam’s voice sounded in her ear, and Norah sat quickly in the chair beside Mason.
Lifting her eyebrows in Mason’s direction, Norah said, “Hello, Sam—good to hear from you,” wondering if it was good. It was the first time she’d talked to Sam since he’d accused her of being “a foolish old maid.” She mouthed, “My brother,” to Mason, and pushed the speaker phone button so he could hear the conversation.
“I thought you intended to come home at the end of summer. It’s almost November, and you still aren’t here.”
“The therapy program has ended, but I have another job now. I’m taking care of a rancher who’s been involved in an accident. I don’t know when I’ll return to Missouri, if I ever do.”
“I hear you’ve sold our home.”
“I’ve agreed to, if the deal goes through as planned.”
“Oh, it will. The new development is the greatest topic of conversation in Springfield these days. There’s no doubt about it. How much money did you get for the house?”
“Sorry, Sam, but that’s confidential information.”
“I’ve heard rumors that you’re getting lots of mone
y. Are you going to divide with the rest of us?”
“Why, no, I hadn’t considered it! The rest of you got Father’s money—the house is my only inheritance.”
“But we didn’t get as much as you’ll receive from the sale of the house. I think you owe us.”
Recriminations rushed to Norah’s lips, but she brushed them aside. “It may seem a bit uneven, but don’t forget that Father paid for college for you and the girls. The cost of four years of higher education for each of you was quite expensive.”
“What are you going to do with the money?”
“I’ve taken an option on a piece of property,” Norah said evenly, and changed the subject. “How are our sisters getting along?”
“All right, I guess. I haven’t seen them for several days. Norah, this isn’t the last you’ve heard about that money.” And without saying goodbye, he hung up the phone.
With a trembling voice, Norah said, “You’ve asked me several times why I haven’t contacted my family. Now do you understand why?”
“Yes. How can they be so different from you?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid I haven’t been very good company today, Mason. I’m going to bed.”
He let her go, for what could he say to ease the pain he knew she must feel over this kind of treatment from the siblings she’d served for most of her adult life? And he knew his attitude about the Bar 8 hadn’t helped her situation. Maybe it was God’s will for Nora to own the ranch and provide a haven for the therapy program. If so, where did that leave their relationship?
As he thought of the situation, it seemed the perfect solution to both their problems. She needed a mission field. He needed a barn. He wanted to marry her, but had feared she might not want to remain in the Sand Hills. She’d made the decision to stay here independently of marriage to him, so he wouldn’t have to wonder if she’d ever blame him for asking her to stay.
So why had he reacted so negatively? Because he didn’t like the idea of his wife being independent? Even though he loved Norah, did he still think he should marry a younger woman who could give him an heir for the Flying K? He knew women today, well into their forties, gave birth without any problems. But would the idea appeal to Norah? He’d made an idol out of his ranch—putting it before his own happiness. He was convinced he could be happy living anywhere with Norah at his side, so didn’t that prove that an heir was no longer important to him? When he got too old to operate the ranch, he could sell it to Doug, who was like a son to him anyway. Should he go to Norah now and let her know? He was sure she wasn’t sleeping, for she hadn’t closed her door tonight, and he could often hear her turning in bed. But he stayed in the living room.
The walls of the old ranch house seemed to vibrate all night with unspoken thoughts as both Mason and Norah fought their own personal battles and concerns for the future.
For the first time since Norah had become estranged from her family, she came to grips with the bitterness she’d harbored in her heart against her siblings. She placed her unforgiving spirit before God, also realizing that there was some bitterness against her father for expecting her to take over the household duties as she had. But each time when she asked God’s forgiveness, she found no peace of heart and mind. Instead, over and over in her mind, she thought of Jesus’s words in the eleventh chapter of Mark. “And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.”
Sleep didn’t come for Norah until she realized what she should do and agreed in her heart that she would do it without delay. She awakened early, sat in a chair by the bedside table and started a letter she should have written long ago.
She had just finished the message when Mason walked down the hallway and stopped at her open door.
“Is it all right if I come in?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling brightly at him. He wondered at her change of attitude as he sat on the foot of her bed. He hardly knew how to start, but he noticed the paper she held.
“Been writing a letter or your memoirs?” he quizzed lightly.
“A letter.” She handed him the single sheet of paper. “Read it, and see if it’s okay.”
He gave her a sidelong glance of surprise as he took the letter and read it aloud.
“Dear Sam,
“Our conversation last night caused me a great deal of distress. It hasn’t been easy for me to be at odds with my family, for I love all of you. I don’t feel that I’ve done anything to cause your animosity toward me, however, I’ve spent a restless night remembering the words of Jesus. ‘When you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.’
“So I want you to know that I have forgiven you for your thoughtless disregard of my personal needs. I forgive you for not appreciating the years I spent helping our family.
“This doesn’t mean that I’ll give you any of the money I receive from the sale of the house. I won’t buy your affection. Besides, I’ve already made plans to invest the money.
“Please share this message with our sisters. Whether or not you want to accept my forgiveness in a manner that will allow us to continue as a family will be up to you. Now that I’ve forgiven you and asked God to forgive me, I’m at peace with myself and God. Regardless of your decision, I’ll never stop praying for you.
Your sister, Norah.”
When Mason lifted his head, he looked at Norah with a definite realization that he must not lose this woman. He wanted to share the rest of her life. They’d reached the point where their relationship must be resolved. He moved closer to her, taking her hand that still held the pen she’d used to write the forgiving note to her brother. He softly removed the pen and kissed her palm.
“I want to ask your forgiveness, too,” he said. “I’ve not been very understanding the past couple of days. I suppose my ego has been hurting because I thought you were buying the Bar 8 to help me. But if you’re convinced that this is the way God wants you to go, I won’t oppose you anymore.”
“I have no doubts, and I am going to buy the Bar 8,” she said, her chin lifting in determination, with a challenge in her eyes.
Laughing, he threw up his hands. “I give up! I’m not going to battle you about it.”
“Good,” she said.
“Since you’ve made the decision to buy the ranch, that means you like the country and are willing to stay here.”
“Right.”
“Then will you stay as my wife?”
Her eyelashes fluttered on her cheeks, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“I’ve wanted to marry you since the first night you came to the Flying K,” Mason continued. “But I’ve thought up all kinds of reasons why I shouldn’t ask you.”
When he paused, Norah prompted, “Such as?”
“I had no right to ask you to marry me and give up your dream of missionary work. Besides, my wife had died in childbirth, so I wouldn’t risk another woman’s life in that way. The more I loved you, the more reasons popped up that kept us apart.”
Norah held up her hand. “Mason, we don’t live in the Dark Ages anymore. Women a lot older than I am have healthy children every day. Besides, my own mother was forty-five when Sam was born.”
His eyes lightened. “Is that a fact! Then you wouldn’t be afraid to have children?”
“Of course not.”
The eagerness faded from his eyes. “You might not be too old to be a mother at forty-two, but I sure feel too old to take on the responsibility of raising a family.”
She took his hand. “Don’t even think such gloomy thoughts. If God sends us children, we’ll know how to take care of them.”
“Then you will marry me, Norah? I love you.”
A sweet song of delight filtered into the soft recesses of Norah’s heart. “Yes, I will. You’ve said the magic words, I love you.”
“Then we’ll be married as soon as I can stand unassisted befor
e a preacher on my own legs.”
“According to the doctor, that should be less than a month. I’ll be ready.”
Norah found the thought very satisfying. It seemed as if she’d started on the last lap of a long expedition when she’d come to the Sand Hills almost six months ago. Her journey had commenced when she’d responded to God’s call as a teenager. Now twenty-five years later, as Mason drew her into his strong, protective embrace, she had reached the end of that trip, with another, more exciting journey beckoning.
Nestling in the warmth of Mason’s embrace, Norah experienced the conviction that she was in the center of God’s will. Lifting her face for his kiss, her heart whispered, “‘I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.’ God knows best what is best for me.”
Epilogue
Twenty-five years later
Family members crowded the auditorium to celebrate the graduation exercises of their loved ones.
Norah and Mason watched in pride as their firstborn, Anna Marie, named for Mason’s mother, walked to the platform to receive her diploma. Excitement mounted at the climax of the day’s program, when several members of the seminary board presided over a commissioning service for three of the graduates.
When Anna Marie walked forward as one of the participants, Mason took Norah’s hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed her trembling fingers. Before the prayer of commitment was made by the president of the seminary, Anna Marie said, “With your permission, Sir, I’d like to have my mother, Norah King, stand by my side. Because I’m living the dream she had before I was born. She’s never admitted it, but I believe she prayed that God would set me apart for His service. When I leave next week for Africa, I’m not going only as an ambassador for Christ, but I’ll represent my mother, too.”
Norah’s eyes were misty, but she was also proud as she stood beside her beloved daughter. Anna Marie knelt with the other two students, and as Norah placed her hand on her daughter’s head, she surveyed the family who’d gathered to share this blessed moment in her life. All of her siblings, and many of their descendants, were in the audience. Her twenty-two-year-old son, Chris, and his fiancée, sat beside Mason.
