by Jill Maguire
“Luke? What happened to me? Where did you find me? How in the world did I come to be in such dire condition?” Hope raised her chin and looked to Luke with a determination that seemed to take him by surprise. As she studied him, waiting for his reply, she detected a sense of guilt in his rugged features.
“You were in a train accident, Hope,” he told her gently. “I came on the scene after hearing the commotion. Then I found you, and you were still alive so I brought you back here.” Luke looked down at his feet as his words trailed off.
“A train accident, why on earth was I on a train? Where are we?” Hope’s raspy voice sounded more demanding than she had expected it too and her tone was not intended to sound ungrateful or severe to this kind man who was nursing her back to health. “I’m sorry,” she added quietly, “I guess I’m just real confused.”
“I don’t know why you were on the train, but it brought you to Wyoming. That’s where we are.” Luke hesitated and took a deep breath, realizing he needed to tell Hope about her father. “There was someone else near you, in the wreck,” he continued. “I believe it was your father, he had red hair like yours, but --,” Luke hung his head and whispered, “He didn’t survive the accident. I’m sorry, Hope. I’m sure this is terrible news for you.”
Hope looked down at her hands lying upon the blanket which appeared blurry with the tears filling her eyes. She gave way to her grief for a moment, letting a few tears fall, but soon she wiped her cheeks and looked up again with a new fierceness in her eyes.
“Keep reading, Luke. I have to know everything. Where I came from? Do I have any other family? Please, read.”
Luke picked up the journal again. He had no desire to object to the look in Hope’s pleading eyes. He read for the rest of the morning, months and months of journal entries fell away in the soft command of his voice. Luke’s deep voice and slow, methodical reading lulled the sharp edges of Hope’s heartache and brought real visions of what her life must have been like before the accident. After the sun had begun its descent towards the western horizon, Luke stopped reading.
“You look tired; I think that’s enough for one day.”
“Thank you, Luke.” Hope met Luke’s gaze with the softness of a child’s. “Your reading has been very helpful and I learned plenty about my life today. I know now that I came here from Pennsylvania and I was an only child.”
“And your father was Irish,” Luke supplied.
“I enjoyed riding horses and being outdoors,” Hope smiled slightly.
“From the sounds of it you’re a fair cook and seamstress too.”
“Though I hate sitting for hours at needlework.” Hope’s lips turned into a wee grin and Luke was sure he heard the faint sound of a giggle behind it. Then Hope sought Luke’s eyes again. “But I still don’t remember any of this.”
“I reckon it will take time, Hope. Go easy on yourself. You’re wounds have a long ways to go before they heal.”
“And, we still don’t know what brought me out west on a train,” Hope continued as if she hadn’t heard Luke’s encouraging words at all.
“Well, we can read more tomorrow. Right now, you need to rest. Your skin has turned pale again, and I will have no patient of mine fainting away from too much talking.” Hope eyed Luke warily, enjoying his concern and unexpected humor. It seemed he was full of surprises.
“Luke,” Hope reached out and touched his arm as he moved to stand up. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me. I feel lucky that you were the one to find me, you’ve taken such great care of me.” Luke looked away and nodded his head in response, uncomfortably clearing his throat.
“I think it’s time we change your head bandage again. I’ll prepare more tea for you.”
Hope leaned back against her pillow and watched Luke work around his tiny kitchen. He was tall and broad, with muscles honed from living in the woods. His skin was sun-tanned and work-worn and she had noticed numerous calluses on his hands when he held her journal. His beard and moustache covered most of his face but he kept them well trimmed and she found it added a rugged quality to his appearance that suited him perfectly.
Hope was startled out of these peculiar thoughts as Luke turned towards her with a full cup of team in his hand.
“Here you are.” Luke handed her the drink and set to work painting his ointments over her skin. Hope sipped the heady concoction, which tasted like the smell of moss deep in the woods, and almost immediately the effects of the tea worked their hazy charms on her. Hope sat in a relaxed fog and allowed Luke to do his work.
Chapter 5
Luke had gleaned much more from Hope’s journal entries than he had listed. The journal, Hope’s own words, told of a girl full of life and vivacity, a girl who took life’s challenges on as they came to her, and never stood down to anyone. She was a girl with a quick temper but could easily be diffused, and she was fiercely loving and loyal to her friends and family.
Judging by the potency of the tea, Luke expected Hope would sleep for the remainder of the day and through the night, so he seized the opportunity to go for a long walk. It had been a few days since Luke felt that he could really get out beyond the small perimeter around the cabin. Today, he would visit his favorite place -- a half mile through the thick woods to a small pond whose waters were as clear and blue as the sky above. The pool trickled into a gurgling stream which fed Luke’s water supply and across from the stream, splashing freely and wildly, was a majestic waterfall. It was a beautiful sight, the waters crashing over rocks smoothed by the flow of the thunderous falls. The sound filled the glade with a playful, yet powerful, melody.
Luke took a seat on his favored rock, just out of reach of the spray, and looked keenly around him, assessing the spot for wildlife out of habit. Seeing no movement, Luke let his mind wander.
From what Luke could make out, Hope was unlike anyone he had ever met. His instincts to care for her were quickly overtaking his reluctance to trust anyone, but how could he feel for a woman who didn’t remember any events of her own life? Luke sat and mulled over his thoughts. A vision of Hope’s tenacious green eyes jarred his thoughts. Her determination in learning more about her life that morning was the first sign of spirit and life he had seen from her pain-ridden body and, Luke guessed, it showed a little of her true nature. He decided, despite her alluring presence, to set his guard up against her. Luke would do everything he could to care for her and help her heal, and then he would drop her off near Whistle Stop to start her new life there.
Luke was glad to see Hope still sleeping when he returned after the sun had set. He ate a few bites of stew and settled in for the night. Just before closing his eyes, Luke stole a glimpse at Hope. The glow of moonlight fell on her contented face as her hair cascaded off the edge of the bed in soft spirals. The sight of her, lying so peacefully, filled Luke with a strange feeling of coming home and it weakened his earlier resolve.
Luke awoke later than normal the next day, the sun shining brightly through the tops of the trees. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. He was surprised to find Hope already sitting up and reading her journal.
“Good morning,” Luke said as he stood.
“Oh, good morning,” Hope replied and went back to her reading.
“You look well this morning.” Luke noticed even more color coming into Hope’s complexion and the cuts and bruises were diminishing.
“I feel a little better. I think the tea you have been giving me to sleep is truly helping.” Hope had a mysterious twinkle in her eye as she said it and Luke looked at her sheepishly. “It must also be affecting my appetite, I’m ravenously hungry,” Hope stated with candor.
“Well, your highness, breakfast will be served as quick as can be,” Luke teased, then inwardly remonstrated himself for acting so easy with Hope after deciding to keep her at arms’ length. He turned away and focused on preparing the morning meal.
“Read anything interesting? Anything more you remember?”
“I –
I have read something fascinating actually,” Hope replied slowly. She seemed hesitant to reveal the new information to Luke but when he regarded her with an encouraging look, she continued. “I read that I came to Wyoming as a mail-order bride, and father was escorting me across the country. Evidently, I was ecstatically excited about the prospect of being a bride to a complete stranger,” Hope’s voice sounded thoughtful and wondering, as if she couldn’t quite believe this to be true about herself. “It seems like I was impulsive, and was seeking an adventure.”
“A mail-order bride, huh?” Luke repeated trying to keep the bad taste out of his tone.
“Yes,” she answered. “I suppose it’s a decent prospect for a woman without any connections or plans for the future.” Hope came to the defensive, presumably trying to maintain her own honor. “Maybe my father encouraged me in it, though from the sounds of it, he wasn’t very warm to the idea at the start,” Hope admitted.
“Don’t worry about all that just now, Hope,” Luke suggested as he brought a plate of food to her. “You need to focus on resting and healing.” Hope chewed silently for a few moments and Luke was acutely aware of her scrutiny.
“Luke,” Hope addressed him suddenly and Luke couldn’t deny the small thrill he got from the sound of his name on her lips. “You must have a story yourself. You live in the woods all alone. What happened? Do you have any family?”
Luke sighed deeply as he studied his plate. He had been afraid of the time when these questions would come.
Luke reluctantly conceded. “I have a brother, Cole, but my parents died a few years back.” Luke was unable to hide the bitterness that took over his every feature when he spoke about the death of his parents.
Chapter 6
Hope’s attention was caught up by the sudden intensity absorbing Luke’s entire body. Agitation and sourness took the place of grief in the announcement of his parents’ death.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Luke. What happened to them?” Hope’s voice was full of compassion and Luke sighed and studied Hope’s face for a moment before continuing his story.
“My family and I were among the first to come out west and settle here. I was just a young sprout then and I loved the mountains and the woods, all the space to roam. We made peaceful relationships with most of the tribes around and we had a nice homestead. We were happy.” A shy smile crept across Luke’s face, shielded partly by the protection of his beard. “But soon more and more people started settling out here, Whistle Stop was established and we were crowded for land,” Luke paused and clenched his jaw as Hope waited silently.
“Before long, the railroad was said to come through. We decided we wouldn’t believe it until we saw the workers themselves come out with arms full of tools. Then one day, the sheriff stopped by our place and told my father that the railroad was to come right through our land and we needed to pack up our things and leave.” Sharp bitterness dripped from Luke’s every word and Hope could feel the betrayal and the robbery of his life as if it had happened to her own family. Luke continued, his voice soft but dreadful.
“Ma and Pa refused to leave. They stood their ground until the very last, when the railroad workers were nearly pounding down their door. Then we moved away -- from everyone, and moved way out here. My father built this cabin, intending to add more rooms and a porch, and a garden for Ma, but they both fell ill. Luckily it was quick, they both died in their sleep, nearly on the same day.” Luke grew silent, like all the hurtful memories had been wrung out of him. Hope’s cheeks were moist with tears and she reached out to touch his arm.
“That’s awful. That’s why you live out here by yourself?”
“Mankind can be greedy, selfish beasts. I’d much rather keep to the woods and creatures out here then to have any dealings with folks,” Luke rose abruptly and paced around the cabin. “I need to go out and check my traps.” Without another word or look to Hope, Luke stalked out.
Hope sat very still and felt an odd movement in her spirit to pray. She knew that prayers to God had been a part of her life before the accident, her journal was peppered with spontaneous communions with God, but she had yet to seek God since gaining consciousness in this strange, foreign life. Now she closed her eyes and beseeched God on behalf of Luke, thanking him for Luke’s kindness and asking God’s blessing on him.
After a few moments of meditation, Hope felt restless to move. She had spent days, unmoving in this bed and she was starting to feel well enough to perhaps stand on her own two feet. She was also desperate for a warm bath and a strong comb for her wild hair. As Hope slowly moved her legs towards the edge of the bed she was reminded by the acute pain that while Luke had been attending to her exposed wounds, there may be wounds beneath her clothes that had not yet gotten any attention.
Hope drew back the blankets covering her legs and gently lifted her tattered skirts. Both limbs were covered in bruises, but not as badly as she would have thought. The cause of the pain was glaringly obvious. An ugly, red gash ran the length of Hope’s shin. Grabbing the ointment off the small table Luke had set up for her by the bed, Hope took a deep breath and went to work covering the gash with antiseptic. The ointment stung horribly and Hope had to lean against the wall to regain her breath. Bravely, she gathered a strip of cloth lying on the table and wrapped it gingerly around the wound. She leaned back again, hoping that the pain would subside, and continued to pray as a distraction.
After several minutes the pain did subside and Hope shuffled gingerly to the edge of the bed and turned to an upright position, planting her feet on the bare wood floor. She stood slowly, balancing herself on the table. With all the determination in her small frame, Hope took her first small step forward. Her legs were still very sore and felt weak from the lack of use but after taking two successful steps, Hope ventured beyond her anchor and walked towards the kitchen on the other side of the small cabin. Feeling more and more confident, Hope lengthened her strides. When the door opened and Luke entered, Hope was startled out of her concentration and lost her balance.
“Woah!” Luke hurried to Hope’s side as she wobbled where she stood. “What are you doing?” Luke held Hope steady with both of his hands on her elbows.
“I’m walking,” Hope’s tone held a hint a defiance.
“Not very well,” Luke said and a low chuckle escaped from deep in his chest. Hope laughed too, sending a cheerful sound ringing through the cabin. An inexplicable look came over Luke’s face and he stared at Hope with curiosity.
“I was doing just fine until you barged through the door,” Hope teased, small giggles still escaping from her lips. She fell silent when she realized that Luke still had a hold of her and was looking at her intently. Their eyes met for what seemed like an eternity, and Hope thought she saw some veil of fear and guardedness fall away from Luke’s gaze.
“Can you manage?” Luke finally broke the silence and averted his eyes.
“Yes, I think so,” Hope said, somewhat reluctantly. Luke slowly drew his hands away and Hope continued her slow exercise, feeling Luke’s eyes upon her the whole time.
Chapter 7
The weeks passed quickly and as Hope began to heal entirely, she filled the small cabin with a renewed life and spirit. Luke couldn’t deny that he felt a shift in his heart towards this woman but struggled with his stubborn resolve and the promise he made to part ways with her as soon as it was convenient. Luke knew this woman was special but he also knew that she would break his heart if he surrendered it to her.
As she continued to improve, Hope insisted on helping out around the cabin and with meals.
“What’s wrong with your leg?” Luke asked one day after noticing that although she walked with strength and confidence, she favored her right leg.
“I discovered a gash on my leg that first day I stood up. I have been attending to it myself and it’s looking better each day. Don’t worry,” Hope added in response to Luke’s skeptical look.
As they sat down to eat lunch together outside i
n the warm sunlight and fresh air, Luke looked thoughtfully, almost sheepishly at Hope.
“Would you feel up to a walk through the woods today?”
“Yes, I think I could manage that. It sounds lovely actually,” Hope replied with a bright smile.
“Alright, there’s something I would like to show you. Just a little spot I think you’ll enjoy.”
After eating and depositing the dishes in the wash basin, Luke led Hope into the dense woods. He stayed on the deer trails and took a slow pace, not wanting Hope to tire. She had been doing a lot around the cabin, but hadn’t strayed this far yet. Luke reminded her often that they could sit down if she needed to.
Luke and Hope weaved their way through the woods until the distant sound of the waterfall could be heard through the trees. Luke glanced back at Hope and saw her look of excitement and curiosity, turning ahead again before she could see his grin. When they reached the glade where the waterfall cascaded from high overhead, Luke stole another glance at Hope. She was silent and wide-eyed, and a beautiful smile lit her bright face.
“Luke, this is stunning!” Hope exclaimed.
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Luke looked admiringly upon his favorite spot in the world. “I like to come out here and just watch the water fall over the rocks.”
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Hope said, meeting Luke’s eyes for a moment. Luke helped her to settle on one of the big flat rocks at the pool’s edge and they sat together for a while, quietly watching the beauty of nature in front of them. Suddenly, Hope dropped her head in one hand and looked as if she might be in pain.
“Are you alright?” Luke couldn’t keep the concern or the fear from his tone. Hope was sucking in deep breaths as if she couldn’t get enough air, and her hand at her forehead was trembling.
