by Linda Ford
She kept her face toward the saddle, a pleased smile on her lips at the sound of reluctance in his voice. “I have a surprise too,” she said. They mounted and headed west.
“What?”
She tipped her nose and gave him a dismissive shrug. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
He chuckled. “Guess I deserve that.”
“Yup.” The ground rose gently, deceptively, to a high vantage point. She reined in. “This is it. In my opinion, the best view of the mountains.” She drank in the scene.
He sighed. “A man could look at that every day of his life and not grow weary of it.”
“I know. Let’s get down. I have something else to show you.”
He dropped to the ground and reached up to assist her.
She took his hand. It seemed normal to do so. The hill ended in a cliff, and she pulled him to the edge. “Here it is.” A wide valley lay a hundred feet below them, the river a thread of blue bordered on each side by trees. Beyond that, the hills climbed into the rocky, rugged mountains that went on in layers of blue, each layer paler than the one before it.
He gasped. “What a fantastic view.”
“It’s my favorite place. I discovered it when we first moved here. I haven’t been back in over a year.” She dropped his hand and went to a boulder she had found gave the best view. It was about four feet high and ten feet across, but she had discovered places to put her hands and feet so she could get to the top. She climbed up and stood looking out at the vast domain. The ground fell away at her feet, giving her a feeling of standing in midair. She breathed deeply, feeling uplifted and comforted at the same time.
The rock shifted. She almost fell but managed to right herself. But the rock shifted again. She turned to look at Bruce. “What’s going on?”
Bruce opened his mouth but no words came out. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
She looked at the ground. A three-inch-wide fissure opened up in front of the rock. As she stood there, it widened and spread to her right and left like a black river. The rock tipped toward the valley below. Her heart clamped to her ribs and refused to beat.
Bruce held out his arms. “Stella, jump. I’ll catch you.” The words were gravely as if his throat had constricted.
“I’m afraid.”
“Trust me.”
14
Bruce didn’t realize his ribs could threaten to crush his heart. But to see Stella balanced on that teetering rock, to see the ground slowly giving away, threatening to drop her to the valley below, made it impossible to breathe. He held out arms that felt like wooden fence posts they were so stiff and heavy.
“Stella. Jump. I’ll catch you.” It was her only chance.
She didn’t move.
“Trust me.” Please, God, let her trust me. Let her see that I can help her.
But Stella stared, frozen with fear.
“Stella.” He packed authority and urgency into her name. “Jump.”
She nodded. Swallowed loudly. She nodded again.
Jump. Jump. He silently encouraged her.
She bent her knees, flung out her arms, and launched herself at him.
He caught her and stumbled back until he was sure they were out of danger then let their momentum drive him to the ground. The rock and ledge broke free and rattled down the cliff, thudding to a stop on the floor below.
He lay on the grass, his heart drumming wildly, and held her on his chest. He didn’t know if he could ever let her go.
She lifted her head, her eyes wide. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for trusting me enough to jump.”
They looked at each other, searching deep for something tenuous that held them as closely as he held her on his chest. He let her gaze probe his secrets and his regrets. His hopes and his fears.
She released a long breath that seemed to go on forever then she eased off his chest and lay cradled to his side, his arm holding her close.
“At the moment I thought I was going to fall, I realized something.” She sat up on one elbow to search his face.
He waited for her to continue.
“I have always thought I was afraid of losing my home. Blamed my father for uprooting us time and time again.” She seemed to gather her thoughts. “He made so many promises and always broke them. By doing so, he taught me not to put my trust in a man.”
She lay back again but remained close. “I well remember when I decided I couldn’t trust promises. Couldn’t trust a man. Pa had a job working for a farmer. We had a nice house. Ma had planted a garden. The boss man had a little girl named Ettie, and we were best friends. I told Pa I didn’t ever want to leave. He said we wouldn’t. He liked this place. But before Ma had pulled the carrots and potatoes from the ground, we were in the wagon moving on. I knew then to never trust what a man says.” She shifted to place her face on his chest and watch him. “Today things changed. When you said to trust you, I knew I could. I knew you are a man of your word and that you do what’s good for those you care about.” She brought a hand up and touched his cheek. “You saved my life.”
He caught her hand and squeezed it. “Only because you trusted me. I wondered if you would see me as…”
She smiled. “As trustworthy? Oh yes, I do.”
Their gazes held and became one. He lifted his head. She did too, and they kissed. It was short and sweet, full of promise. But he wasn’t sure what to expect next.
She shifted, lay staring at the sky.
He propped himself on one elbow. “What are you thinking?”
Her gaze returned to his
“Maybe I’m a little afraid.” Her answer startled him.
“Of what?”
“I don’t know. By acknowledging my fears, I feel like the foundations of my life have shifted.”
“In a good way?”
“Maybe. Right now, I just feel uncertain.”
He lay back. It wasn’t the answer he wanted.
She pushed to her feet and went to look at the caved-in ground. She stayed far back from the edge. “Erosion must have undercut the bank.” She shivered. “I can’t believe how close I came to dying.” She turned toward the horses and spoke with some urgency. “I need to go home and make sure the children are safe.”
He understood her desire to pull her family close. He helped her into the saddle.
She was quiet, subdued the entire way.
As soon as they reached the yard, she jumped down and ran to the house, calling the children. Seeing them under the tree with Flora and the dog, she rushed over and caught her son and daughter to her.
Flora stepped back and studied Stella holding Donny and Blossom so tight then crossed to the barn.
“She seems upset. What happened?”
He told her about the cliff falling.
Flora shuddered. “I’m glad she’s safe.” She patted his arm. “I’m glad you were there to rescue her.”
“Thanks. And thanks for looking after the children.”
“Anytime.”
She must have heard the regret in his voice. Regret that the day full of promise had ended abruptly.
“She’s had a scare. Give her time to get over it.”
As she rode away, he watched Stella. Of course, she was grateful to him for protecting her. But it had not drawn them closer. In fact, he felt like a barrier as thick as the rock she’d stood on had formed between them.
There was little he could do except wait and pray.
Plus, he had Aunt Mary’s prayers.
He managed a thin smile as he took care of the horses and then went to the house.
Stella stayed outside with the children, sitting with both of them close, playing with Donny’s barn.
He paused at the door then stepped inside.
Aunt Mary watched him. “I can tell my prayers weren’t answered today. What a disappointment.”
“Something more important happened.” He sat beside her chair and relayed the news of the collapsing cliff. He left out what Stell
a had said about trust and how he had responded with a kiss.
Aunt Mary gasped. “Thank God she is safe. You’re right. Her safety makes my prayer look selfish.”
Bruce tried for a smile. Wasn’t sure he conveyed amusement so much as regret. “Well, don’t stop praying for us.”
She chuckled. “I never will.”
Stella knew Bruce was disappointed with her response to the events of the afternoon and did her best to smile and be cheerful throughout the evening meal. But it was a relief when he went out to do the chores and she could stop pretending an ease she didn’t feel. Though perhaps she relaxed too soon.
“Bruce told me what happened,” Aunt Mary said. “Praise God you’re safe.”
The children had gone out for a few more minutes play, so Stella couldn’t even use them as an excuse not to discuss the near accident.
“It was scary.”
“I expect it was. For both of you.”
“Yes.” There seemed little else to say. “It’s time to get the children in.” She called them and got them into bed. They said their prayers, but she didn’t listen. Her thoughts circled endlessly on almost falling, being saved by Bruce, and—
The outer door opened, and his footsteps crossed the floor. The kettle rattled on the stove. He was making tea. Expecting them to sit outside as had become their habit. Anticipation and dread tangled in her head.
She kissed the children and left the room to assist Aunt Mary to bed. She checked the wound. “It looks fine.”
“I’ll soon be good as new.”
Stella prepared to leave.
“Dear, I’m glad you’re safe and sound. And if it takes more than two weeks for the pair of you to realize what you have, I can accept that.”
Stella quietly left the room.
Bruce held two mugs of tea. “Ready to sit outside?”
She went out and sat on the log stool. Thanked him for the tea he handed her. She stared into the distance though she saw nothing.
“Are you upset? You’ve hardly said a word since back there.”
She understood he meant when she had leapt into his arms. Likely wondered if she minded being kissed. She didn’t. But her insides were too twisted to think how she felt about that.
“I feel like I have to rethink who I am and what I want. All this time I thought all I needed was a permanent place of my own. But now I realize I can’t find the peace and security I desire unless I can trust. Not just man-made promises, but God’s promises. I’ve been trying to find my security in this place rather than in God. I find it unsettling.”
“Perhaps you are judging yourself too harshly. Has anything truly changed except you understand yourself better? Home and family are still important. God has given you those.”
“I remember so many broken promises.” The words ached from her, bleeding from a deep wound.
“Do you mean your pa’s broken promises? Has God failed to keep any of His?”
She blinked. “Of course not. Oh, I’m so confused.”
“Don’t measure God and everyone else by the actions of one man.”
“That would be foolish, wouldn’t it?” She tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace.
“It would be a big mistake.” His smile was gentle. His eyes full of summer blue. “Do you trust me?”
She was mesmerized by the gentle demand in his gaze. “I do. I want to.” She gave a little laugh. “I just threw myself into your arms, so I guess I do.”
He took the mug from her and set it on the ground then took her hands and pressed them between his own. He searched her gaze, his look bringing calmness to her turbulent insides.
“Stella, I can’t promise I would never let you down or fail you in some way, but if I do, believe me when I say—it would never be intentional or with a desire to hurt you.”
She drank in his promise, knowing she could trust it.
A movement behind him diverted her attention. She blinked. A woman walked toward them. “Bruce.”
He turned. “Where did she come from?”
“I don’t know.” They both rose as the woman drew closer.
She broke into a run. “Have you seen a little boy?” She stopped in front of them. She had black hair with mink-colored highlights and impossibly blue eyes. Stella thought she looked a little like Eve.
“Only my son, and he’s safely in bed.”
The young woman looked frantically from side to side, turned full circle. “I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find him.”
The woman’s fear wove through Stella, and she moved closer to Bruce.
He pulled her to his side. “Perhaps if you tell us who you are looking for…”
“My…my brother.” The poor woman was so distraught she could hardly get the words out. “He’s four. His name is Louie. I can’t find him.”
Stella knew the woman struggled to keep her composure. Stella wondered if she could manage to do so if Blossom was missing.
“We’ll help you find him.” Bruce was calm, reassuring. “Where did you come from?”
The woman made a vague motion toward the river.
“Are there others there?”
“No, we’re alone.”
“How is that possible?” Stella knew her voice rang with surprise.
The woman fixed her blue eyes on Stella. “We got separated from the others.”
A suspicion grew in the back of Stella’s mind. “How long ago?”
“What does it matter? Louie is missing. I need to find him.”
Bruce tightened his arm around Stella’s shoulders. “When did you last see him and where?”
“I noticed him gone a bit ago. We were down there.” She pointed the river direction again.
“Where have you looked?”
“Not in the barn.”
The three of them went to the barn. The big door was closed, but the smaller entrance was ajar.
“I know I shut it when I left,” Bruce said. He opened it wider. “Let me check first.”
Stella and the woman—“What’s your name?” Stella asked.
“Clara.”
“I’m Stella.” Bruce rejoined them. “This is my husband, Bruce.” It felt good to say that.
Bruce signaled them forward, pressing a finger to his lips, and they tiptoed in. Curled up beside Tippy, sound asleep, lay a child with black hair. He was barefooted.
Clara rushed forward and pulled the little boy into her arms. “Louie, you know better than to wander away. How many times have I warned you?”
“But, Clara, we used to sleep here.”
Clara slowly straightened and faced Bruce and Stella.
“That’s what the straw in the far stall was for,” Bruce said. “It’s time you told us what’s going on here.”
Clara put her brother down with the pup. “Wait here.” She went outside with Bruce and Stella.
“Yes, I slept in your barn. I didn’t see any harm in it. No one was living here. It’s not like I went into your house or anything.”
Stella might have protested the defensive tone, but Bruce put a hand on her back, and she calmed.
“I’m sure we don’t mind if you slept in the barn,” he said. “But you haven’t been sleeping here since we came. Where are you sleeping now? Why are you alone?”
“I’m not alone. I have Louie.”
“You know what I mean.”
Clara sighed, a sound Stella thought could be either resignation or annoyance. “We found an old cabin in the trees. No one lives there.”
Stella shuddered to think of them in that falling-down place.
“And why are you alone?” Bruce persisted.
“We got separated from the others.”
“Who would these others be? When and where did you get separated?”
Her dark eyes flashed defiance. “They would be my stepfather and his friends. We parted ways a number of days ago.”
Stella realized something. “It was you who planted the garden, wasn’t it?”
Stella chuckled at her annoyance. “It is my home.”
So, she’d been here weeks, not days.
“We can help you find your traveling companions,” Bruce said.
Her fists clenched. “I never want to see them again.”
“Why is that?”
Stella marveled at Bruce’s calm patience as he prodded for an explanation.
Clara glowered. “Because they aren’t good.” She tried to push past them. “I’ll take Louie and leave, if you don’t mind.”
Bruce blocked her. “I do mind. You can’t live out there on your own. You need help.”
“My ancestors have survived in this land for years.” Did she mean Indians? Stella looked more closely. She didn’t look very native, but the little boy did.
“Do you have a gun?”
She tried to outstare Bruce.
“That’s what I thought. Doesn’t your brother deserve a safe, warm place?”
At that, Clara’s shoulders sank. “Can I stay in your barn? I won’t be a bother.”
Bruce and Stella looked at each other. She wondered if he had the same thought as she and guessed he did when he gave a tiny nod.
“I needed help too,” Stella began. “That’s why I was away so long. I found a safe place in the town of Glory. You could go there. Go to the place where I found shelter.” She told Clara about the Kinsleys. Clara looked both interested and cautious.
“Think about it,” Bruce said. “If you’re agreeable, I’ll take you there in the morning. In the meantime, you can sleep in the house.”
“I don’t know—”
“We can sleep in a bed?” An awed voice drew their attention to Louie standing in the doorway. “In your house?” His dark-eyed gaze went from Bruce to Stella.
“If your sister agrees.” Stella didn’t think Clara would be able to deny her brother’s pleading look.
“For tonight only.” She lifted the child into her arms.
Bruce shepherded them all in the direction of the house, perhaps hoping to get them inside before Clara took flight.
Stella managed to catch his attention. “Where are they going to sleep?” she whispered.
“They can have my bed. I’ll sleep in the barn.”
