by E. A. West
The one thing Meghan’s love couldn’t do, however, was cure his brain. As they walked toward the town’s park, where the parade ended and the fair waited, Basir felt the telltale twinges of pain in his skull that signaled worse to come. He could only pray he would get back to the apartment and take his medication in time to keep it from becoming excruciating.
~*~
“You did a great job with Luna,” Meghan said as she accepted the lead rope from eleven-year-old Peter. The black alpaca nuzzled his arm before moving to Meghan’s side. “I think you have a new friend.”
“She’s really nice.” He petted the alpaca one more time and stepped back. “See you at church.”
He trotted off to join his parents nearby, and Meghan tied the rope to the side of the trailer. Only two more alpacas to retrieve, one from a kid and one from Sara, and then she and Basir could load them up and take them back to the farm. Ten-year-old Ashley handed her alpaca’s lead rope to Basir and ran off to join her family before Meghan could thank her. A smile formed as she watched the girl’s animated gestures while talking to her parents. Ashley was such an awkward child that it warmed Meghan’s heart to see her so excited and lively.
She turned to say as much to Basir, but the words caught in her throat as he stumbled and braced a hand on the alpaca’s shoulder. He closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths, swaying slightly.
Meghan hurried to his side and laid a hand on his back. “What’s wrong?”
“Dizzy.” He opened his eyes and slowly turned his pale face toward her. “I don’t feel well.”
“Are you sick?” She searched his face, seeing only strained features.
“Not yet.” He sucked in another breath and slowly released it. “Bad migraine.”
“I’m sorry.” She gave his back a sympathetic rub. “Why don’t you hand me Riki’s lead so I can tie her to the trailer? Then, I’ll help you sit down so you don’t fall over.”
“OK.” He handed her the rope and stayed still as she led the alpaca to the side of the trailer and secured her.
When she returned to his side, he draped an arm over her shoulders as she slipped an arm around his waist. Sara joined them before they took a single step.
“Is everything OK?”
“Not exactly.” Meghan bit her lip and thought fast. “Can you find Ryan and tell him Basir needs to go home?”
“Sure. No problem. I’ll go as soon as I tie this guy with the others.”
“Thanks, Sara.” Meghan focused on Basir, who leaned heavily against her. “Come on. You can sit in my truck until Ryan shows up.”
He didn’t respond, but she didn’t really expect him to. Pain showed clearly on his face, and she prayed his suffering wouldn’t last too long or get any worse. It worried her how quickly the migraine had hit, however. He had seemed fine during the parade, maybe a little quiet toward the end, but that wasn’t unusual for him. Normally his migraines seemed to either come with warning signs like a worsening headache or be triggered by something, such as a bright light. This one appeared to have hit without warning.
She helped him onto the passenger seat, and he leaned his head against the doorframe as he looked at her through sad tawny-brown eyes. A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead, and she brushed it back.
“How are you doing?” She kept her voice soft, knowing noise could make some migraines worse.
“Not good.” He sighed and lifted a hand to touch her cheek. “Are you sure you want to marry a man with debilitating headaches?”
“Yes.” She grasped his hand and placed a gentle kiss on his fingers. “I love you, Basir, and I agreed to marry you in spite of the permanent injuries you have. Remember?”
“I remember, but...” He lowered his gaze. “I can’t think positively right now.”
“That’s all right. I’ll think positively for both of us.”
A faint smile touched his lips, and he met her gaze again. “You are good for me, zerrgay.”
“You’re good for me too.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “But what does that word mean?”
“Which word?”
“The last one. Zer-something.”
He studied her for a moment, and then his expression cleared. “Zerrgay. It means, um...I can’t think of the English word right now. But it means I care about you and you are important to me.”
“Oh.” From his description, it sounded as if the word was a term of endearment, similar to sweetheart or darling. Regardless of the literal translation, the emotion behind it was all that truly mattered.
He closed his eyes with a sigh, and Meghan turned to scan the crowd. She didn’t see any sign of her brother. Hopefully, Sara would find him soon. Basir clearly needed to lie down, and the sooner the better.
She heard movement behind her and glanced back to see Basir looking a little green. Before she could say anything, he bolted from the truck and headed for the row of portable toilets across the parking lot. He disappeared into one, and Meghan prayed he was all right.
“Hey, Megs!” Ryan’s voice behind her drew her attention, and she turned around to find him approaching with their parents and Sara trailing behind. “Where’s Basir?”
She waved a hand at the blue plastic stalls. “He’s in the end one. He didn’t look too good.”
“Aw, man.” Ryan jammed his fingers into his hair. “Another migraine?”
“Yeah, and it looks like a bad one.”
“All right.” He blew out a breath and turned to Sara, who now stood beside him. “Do you mind hanging out with my sister for a little while? I’ll come back and pick you up after I get Basir settled at home.”
“That’s fine. I’ll just help her load up the alpacas or something.” Sara kissed his cheek, and then he followed the same path Basir had taken only moments before.
Meghan longed to go with him to make sure Basir was all right, but she had a feeling staying out of the way was a better idea. She shifted her attention to her parents, who had joined her with confused expressions.
“Meghan, what is going on?” Dad asked.
“Basir gets these migraines sometimes...” She wasn’t sure how much to say, but she couldn’t lie to her parents. “One hit, and he needs to go home and lie down. Since I have the alpacas with me, it’ll be easier for Ryan to take him.”
“Poor guy,” Mom said, her expression full of sympathy. “Does he get them often?”
“Often enough.” Meghan looked across the parking lot in time to see Ryan helping Basir along. “Sometimes they’re worse than others.”
Dad turned from watching the two men, his gaze suspicious. “He looks drunk.”
“He’s not. He doesn’t drink alcohol, ever. The migraines sometimes make him dizzy.”
“I see.” Dad glanced at Mom. “Let’s go explore the fair a little more, Linda.”
“All right.” She gave Meghan a warm smile and a pat on the arm. “We’ll see you back at your house.”
“Have fun.” Meghan prayed her father wouldn’t change his mind about Basir because of a medical condition. Without Dad’s approval, her relationship with Basir would never go anywhere. He was so intent on doing everything the right way that he wouldn’t dare marry her without her father’s blessing.
20
A soft paw poked Basir’s chin, and he struggled to open his eyes. A faint glow seeped around the heavy curtain over the window, providing a hint of illumination in the otherwise dark bedroom. Kadwaal leaned over him and looked him in the eye.
“Mrrow?”
Basir smiled and lifted a hand to stroke the kitten. As he slowly grew more alert, he realized that all traces of nausea and dizziness were finally gone. His head still ached a little, but nowhere near as badly as the previous evening. He could survive the dull ache throbbing in his skull.
The kitten pawed at him again, and he realized someone was moving around the kitchen. There wasn’t nearly as much banging as when Ryan cooked, but there was enough noise to make it clear someone was working in
there. Basir looked toward the alarm clock on the dresser. The glowing red numbers showed it was the middle of the afternoon. He had slept for nearly twenty hours, with only a few brief interruptions.
He sat up with a groan and scrubbed a hand across his face. Stubble rasped against his palm, and he glanced at the kitten watching him intently. “I hope Fred Carpenter doesn’t think I am too weak to marry his daughter.”
As soon as he spoke the words, he wanted to lie down and go back to sleep. Possibly forever. How could he ever hope to win the man’s approval when he hadn’t even been able to work on Meghan’s farm that morning? What did he have to prove he could provide for her? He didn’t even have a small home to call his own, let alone a regular job with a reliable income. The only money he earned came from the woman he wanted to marry. Not exactly the best indication that he could take care of her.
Kadwaal climbed in his lap and leaned against him with a purr. The warm, vibrating body helped draw him out of his thoughts, and he released a breath as he stroked the kitten’s side.
“I know, little one. You think I am the greatest thing since food.”
Kadwaal meowed and jumped down. He trotted to the door, which stood open a few inches to allow him to come and go at will. Instead of leaving, he looked over his shoulder and meowed again.
“All right, Kadwaal. I get the message. You are hungry.” Basir climbed out of bed and stretched. He was finally hungry too, so he might as well find out who was in his kitchen and get something to eat.
He followed his kitten into the living room and spotted Ryan sprawled on the couch with a book in his hands. A pause in his steps alerted his friend to his presence, and Ryan lowered the book.
“Hey, you’re still alive.”
Basir managed a smile, despite his increased curiosity about who was cooking. “Yes, I am alive and plan to stay that way for a while.”
“Good to know.” Ryan lifted his book. “You should let Meghan know, too. She’s been worried about you.”
His heart lifted with the knowledge the woman he loved had been thinking about him. “I will tell her after I eat something.”
“Good luck with that.”
Basir sent a questioning look his way, but Ryan ignored him so he continued on to the kitchen. As soon as he stepped into the room, he understood Ryan’s comment. Meghan stood at the stove stirring a small, steaming pot. The warm scents of chicken and vegetables filled the air, making his stomach rumble in anticipation. Kadwaal trotted to his food bowl and began crunching on the waiting kibble. So much for his kitten needing him to provide food.
Meghan turned around and studied him with a hopeful gaze. “Hey. How are you feeling?”
“Much better.” He joined her by the stove and peered over her shoulder. “What are you cooking?”
“Chicken soup.” She turned around, placing her face inches from his. “Ryan said you haven’t eaten since sometime yesterday.”
“He is right. I have been sleeping.” He stepped back, aware his breath could probably kill. Why hadn’t Ryan warned him she was here? He would have taken a few moments to clean up before going in search of food.
“All the sleep appears to have done wonders for you.” She smiled and waved a hand toward the pot. “Hungry?”
“Very.”
“Have a seat, and I’ll fill a bowl.”
Basir pulled out a chair at the table and dropped into it. He watched her move around his kitchen, appearing as comfortable as she was in her own. Within moments, he had a healthy serving of hearty soup in front of him. Meghan sat down across from him as he said a quick prayer of thanks for his meal.
As he scooped up his first bite of chicken and vegetable-laden broth, he gave her a questioning look. “Should you tell Ryan the soup is ready?”
“Nope.” She reached across the table to touch his hand. “I made that for you.”
“Thank you.” He ate a spoonful to give himself time to recover from his shock. She had come all the way to town just to make him a bowl of soup? If that didn’t prove her love for him, he didn’t know what would. “This is good.”
“Thanks.” She watched him eat a few more bites. “My mom wanted me to let you know she and my dad have been praying for a speedy recovery for you.”
“That is kind of them. Where are your parents?”
“My mom talked my dad into visiting the antique shop down the street and a couple of other shops she spotted. We’ll meet back at the farm for dinner.”
Basir nodded and continued eating. If her parents were praying for him, that was a good sign. Right? They wouldn’t pray for a man they didn’t like. Or would they? He knew many Christians who would pray for their worst enemy. But surely the Carpenters wouldn’t have allowed their daughter to come cook for him if they viewed him as an enemy. Perhaps having them find out about one of his weaknesses wouldn’t ruin the possibility of a happy future with Meghan after all.
Only one way to find out. He laid his spoon in the bowl and focused on his fiancée. “Would you mind if I went with you to your farm this evening?”
“Of course I don’t mind.” She tilted her head at an inquisitive angle. “You do realize Ryan and I took care of all the chores, right?”
“I assumed you had done so. I want to go to your farm tonight so that I can speak with your father.”
“Are you up to that conversation right now?” A small furrow formed between her eyebrows. “He’ll be here until Saturday.”
“I need to talk to him as soon as possible.” Basir shook his head and sighed. “I know you don’t understand, but I need to know I have his permission to marry you. Without that...”
“I know.” She reached across the table and grasped his hand. “You can come home with me, and I’ll make sure you have a chance to talk to my dad.”
“Thank you.” His heart thumped with a combination of anticipation and worry. Would Fred grant his blessing, or would he break two hearts?
Ryan stepped into the kitchen. “Hey, I’m going to go. Sara’s waiting for me.”
“All right.” Meghan smiled at her brother. “Be sure to let her know you’re both welcome to join us at the farm for dinner.”
“I will. See you guys later.” He left the room, and a moment later the front door opened and shut.
A wave of nerves washed over Basir, but he continued eating to hide it. He had never been alone in his apartment with Meghan before. Somehow, it felt different than being alone with her at her farm. More intimate and capable of getting them both in trouble. Yet he didn’t know what to do about it. He could ask her to leave, but that would be rude. Besides, he needed her to provide transportation to her farm. The only other option that popped into his mind was to get them out of there as quickly as possible.
He finished his soup and carried his bowl to the sink, planning to wash it later. “I will go change, and then we can leave.”
“All right,” Meghan said as she slowly rose from her seat. “But there’s no rush.”
“Meghan, I—” He wasn’t sure how to explain his need for either a chaperone or a new location without sounding like a crazy man. “Please?”
She studied him for a moment and then nodded. “OK. I’ll clean up the kitchen while you get ready.”
“Thank you.” He smiled and left the room.
~*~
Basir rushed through a shower and shaving, and then he dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt. He wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette was for a man talking to a prospective father-in-law in America, but he had a feeling the conversation would go better if he looked respectable. He also had a feeling discussing anything resembling a bride price was out of the question. After talking to Ryan and Colonel Spencer, he knew that Fred’s main concerns would likely be whether Basir could take care of his daughter and any children they might someday have and whether he would treat her well.
Treating Meghan well wasn’t an issue. He wasn’t sure he could ever do anything else. Providing for her needs and the needs of any
children, however, was a different story. Since his only means to support anyone came from Meghan herself, he wasn’t sure if Fred would consider that enough. But maybe he could convince the man that he would become Meghan’s partner in the farm and help ensure it flourished by using his knowledge of farming and raising wool-bearing animals.
Worrying about the coming conversation wouldn’t help it go more smoothly. Basir straightened his shoulders and left the hallway with his kitten on his heels. When he stepped into the kitchen, he found Meghan putting the now-clean pan in the cabinet. She closed the door and turned around with a smile.
“Perfect timing. I just finished in here.”
Basir glanced at the kitten winding around his ankles. “I need to put Kadwaal’s harness on, and then we can go.”
He returned to the living room and grabbed the small blue harness and matching leash from the table beside the door. Kadwaal meowed loudly, his purr even louder, when he saw it.
“Come here, little one.” Basir knelt and the kitten stood remarkably still as he strapped the harness on. From what he had heard, training a cat to accept a harness and walk on a leash was usually a near-impossible task, but Kadwaal had taken to both easily. He stood, slipped the handle of the leash around his wrist, and looked at Meghan. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are.”
Her smile increased his heartrate, and he turned to open the door. The sooner they got out of there, the better. His thoughts were headed down a path they had no business going, especially since he couldn’t be certain he would be able to marry her. But even if he were certain they would wed, he had to keep his thoughts toward her completely pure. Anything less would disrespect her.
Once in the hall, he locked the door behind them. Kadwaal trotted happily at his side to the stairs, and Basir paused to scoop up the kitten. His furry friend could go up and down the stairs on his own, but it was a time-consuming task.
Soon they were in Meghan’s truck on the way to her farm. Basir stared out the window, his thoughts twisting back and forth between the coming conversation with Fred and the ring he had promised to make for Ryan. By the time they parked at the back of Meghan’s house, he had a good idea of the design for the ring, but he still hadn’t figured out what to say to Fred. Thankfully, the elder Carpenters’ car was absent, so he had a little more time to prepare.
