by Linda Ford
“So far.” Levi pushed away from the table.
Beatrice could not continue to keep her back to him—she must know if he would look her way—so she slowly turned.
He stood at the door, his hat in hand. Their gazes caught with such force, she forgot to breathe. His smile began at his eyes and then caught his mouth. “I’ll be back for breakfast.” With a tiny nod, he was gone.
Her lungs filled with a whoosh. Her thoughts took a little longer to begin working and might have taken even longer if Maisie hadn’t suggested making porridge for breakfast.
By the time the meal was ready and she stepped outside to ring the bell, Beatrice had herself firmly in hand. She would not forget the plans she’d formulated for her life.
She made it through breakfast without being sidetracked and spent the rest of the morning cleaning the house. She realized that it was hard work to mop floors, but she discovered a great deal of satisfaction from seeing the floors gleaming.
Dinner turned out quite well. She would soon be confident enough to manage a few meals on her own so that when she left here she would qualify for another job.
Pain grabbed at her insides. She held very still until it passed, determined to ignore it. Yes, she would leave here. She’d known it from the beginning. Nothing had changed.
She might have continued to hold her feelings in check except Maisie sighed wearily. “I really need a rest. Levi, help me to my room then you and Beatrice take Dolly out for an hour or two again.”
No, Beatrice wanted to wail. Yes, her heart sang with joy. Only, she argued, because she loved seeing the scenery and animals. Not, she insisted, because she looked forward to another outing with Levi. And Dolly, she added quickly.
Dolly looked pleased at the idea and grabbed a towel to dry the dishes.
Beatrice could not refuse...not with the suggestion coming from Maisie and with Dolly anticipating the outing. Besides, who was she to argue about a few hours in the company of the very man whose presence made her forget every promise she’d made herself about guarding her heart?
Levi returned grinning widely. “Ma says we should go see the burrowing owls. Would you like that?”
Dolly nodded. “Can I take Smokey?”
“I think she better stay here this time. The little owls might not come out if they see a cat.” His gaze slid to Beatrice’s. “Do you want to see the owls?”
She couldn’t keep the joy and anticipation from her lips, nor from her voice. “I’d love to.” She put away the last dry dish, hung the towels to dry and waited while Dolly made sure Smokey was content on a blanket by the stove.
Levi led the way outside and guided them eastward, past the ranch buildings and across a grassy pasture. They came to rocky soil and Levi reached out a hand to help Beatrice. She tried to convince herself she hadn’t been hoping he’d do exactly that, but gladly took his hand as her shoes slipped on the rocks.
He was close to her side and murmured, “This is one of the places where I lose the trail of whoever is responsible for the mischief on the place.” He slowed and looked about. She did the same and saw nothing to give her cause to be concerned.
He sighed. “They seem to be able to vanish.”
“You’ll catch them one of these days.”
He chuckled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Dolly had been examining the rocks and picking up small ones to stuff in her pocket. Levi called her to them. “We’re almost there and we’ll have to sit and be absolutely quiet if we want to see them.” He indicated a good-sized boulder and he and Beatrice sat side by side with Dolly leaning against their knees.
Beatrice squeezed one of Dolly’s shoulders and chanced a quick glance at Levi. The quick glance turned into a long considering look. She felt as if he had walked through a door in her heart and found himself at home. Or was she talking about her own feelings of having found herself at home in his heart?
“Where are they?” Dolly asked in her usual quiet whisper.
Levi broke the connection and pointed to the grassy knoll a hundred feet away. “Over there,” he whispered. “They’ve gone underground at our approach but will come back out if we’re quiet. They’re very curious little fellows.”
Beatrice followed the direction he pointed. The only thing to see at the moment was a mound of dirt but their patience was soon rewarded. One little yellow-eyed head poked from the hole. Then four owlets crowded out and stood at attention. They bobbed their heads, danced and jostled for position. One twisted his head sideways as if wondering what the world looked like from a different angle. One seemed to be scolding the others. Several minutes later, a shadow passed over them and they scurried back into the hole, almost getting stuck as they tried to all get in at once.
Beatrice laughed softly. “What little clowns. Thank you for showing them to me.” She didn’t recall taking his hand again, but somehow or other their fingers were intertwined and he squeezed.
“My brothers and I always enjoy watching them. When we were younger, it was hard for all three of us to be quiet.” He lowered his head to talk to Dolly. “You did very well. Did you like them?”
She nodded vigorously. “Will they come out again?”
“Maybe. But only if we are very quiet. Why don’t we move farther away so we can talk without them feeling threatened?” He got to his feet and pulled Beatrice after him. They retreated several yards to sit on another boulder.
If she wasn’t mistaken this one was considerably smaller than the other. Their shoulders pressed together.
Dolly watched the burrow for a while then lost interest and turned her attention to rock hunting.
Beatrice studied the scenery. From where they sat, a vista of rolling grass, crisscrossed with trees, lay before her. Yellow and gold dotted the groves. “The leaves are beginning to change color.”
“Fall is almost upon us.”
“Is it a busy time of year for you?” She wanted to know everything about ranch life. Even more, she wanted to prolong their sojourn in this place.
“It is. We have to round up the cows and brand the calves that were born over the summer. We move the cows down from the high pastures so they don’t get snowed in. As winter deepens the stock is moved into pastures by the barn so we can throw feed out for them if we need to.”
She chuckled. “It sounds to me like you enjoy the season.”
He shifted to look directly at her. “I love all the seasons.”
She studied his dark intensity. “Tell me about the other seasons.”
He told of the excitement of spring when everything was burgeoning with new life. He spoke of the more busy days of summer, when they rode the range, keeping an eye on the herds, worked with new horses and put up feed. “Winter is our slow time unless we have to deal with a snowstorm.”
“What do you do to pass the time?”
“Fix harnesses, take care of the animals in the barn. The winter evenings are long. We read a lot. And play checkers.” He laughed. “Big Sam considers himself the reigning champion so when one of us boys beats him, he won’t let us go to bed until he wins.” He laughed again, causing Beatrice to think he enjoyed the competition with his father. “I’ve lots of times let him win just so I could get some sleep.”
She chuckled. “It sounds like fun.”
“What did you and your family do for entertainment?”
The joy of the moment evaporated at his question. Her life seemed so barren and artificial. Her former life, she corrected. Realizing he waited for her answer, she gathered her thoughts. “We entertained a lot.” Always those who were socially suitable and, in hindsight, dreadfully dull. “There were teas and literary gatherings.”
“Wait. What are literary gatherings?”
She looked past him, almost embarrassed to admit what they involved. But he waited. “People woul
d take turns reading from different books in the hopes of interesting us in the book of their choice.”
“That might be interesting.”
“Sometimes. But often it was simply a way of trying to look superior to others so those who read would pick books that were dreadfully dull.” She brightened as she remembered one man who never followed that trend. “Mr. Munroe always read from really popular books like those by Mark Twain or Robert Louis Stevenson.”
For a little while they talked about the books they enjoyed.
Suddenly, Levi bolted to his feet. “Look where the sun is. We better get back before Maisie worries about us. And what if she tries to get to the kitchen herself? She’ll start that wound bleeding again.” They called Dolly to join them.
He held her hand as they crossed the rough ground and continued to hold it even when they reached the grass, but more, she thought, to make certain she kept up a good pace than because he enjoyed the contact.
They reached the house and he bolted through the door and strode to Maisie’s room. Beatrice heard the relief in his voice when he saw she was in bed, waiting for him to help her.
Beatrice solemnly turned her attention toward supper preparations. Levi’s sudden switch from interested to remembering his duties was exactly the reminder she needed to bring her thoughts back to where they belonged.
How could she so easily let them wander down a forbidden trail?
Chapter Eight
Levi hurried from the house and trotted to the barn. What had he been thinking to sit out in the sun for half the afternoon? If Maisie had tried to get up... He shuddered. He would blame himself if something happened to her. Even worse, Big Sam would also hold him responsible
He’d left Charlie with the task of oiling the harnesses and went to the tack room to check on his cousin. “Charlie?” Only the rustling of mice overhead and the gentle lowing of the milk cow. Levi checked each stall. No Charlie.
He jogged to the bunkhouse. Evidence of where Charlie had slept but no Charlie. Perhaps he’d gone to the cookhouse for something. Levi turned his steps that direction, his nerves growing more tense with each step. He knew Charlie would be feeling the lack of strong drink by now. He should have been around to help his cousin through the yearning.
He opened the door to the cookhouse, not expecting to find anyone there. Nevertheless, he called, “Charlie, are you here?” A quick glance revealed nothing. He was about to turn and look elsewhere when he heard a scuffling. He crossed the floor to look on the other side of the cupboard. “What are you doing?” His cousin was on his hands and knees as if searching for something. “You won’t find a bottle here.”
Charlie sat back on his heels. “I’m not looking for a bottle.”
“Then what are you doing? Praying?” He didn’t mean to mock but Charlie had never been a praying man.
“Maybe I should. Or maybe you could.”
Was Charlie trying to warn him of something? He squatted down beside Charlie. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Why do you care?” Charlie scowled deeply. “You expect everyone to be perfect, just like you.”
“I do not.”
Charlie nodded. “Yes, you do. Levi, you’re my cousin and all, but you’re a hard man.”
The unfair accusation stung. “Hard? How can you say that? I consider myself kind, gentle and caring.”
Charlie continued looking at the floor.
“Tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll look with you.” He’d prove Charlie wrong by helping him.
“I lost my special five-cent piece. I took it out to look at and I dropped it. Now I can’t find it.”
Levi eased his breath out. Fine, he’d crawl around on the floor looking for five cents if that’s what it took. They crawled the length of the floor. They poked under the cupboard. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I don’t see your coin. Look, I’ll give you five cents.”
Charlie stood up and faced Levi. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
Levi tossed his hands upward in frustration. “Explain it to me.”
“My pa gave it to me. He said, ‘Charlie, there will be times you forget who you are and why you matter. When you do, you take this coin out and remember that you matter to me and your ma. You matter to God.’ So long as I have that coin all I has to do is look at it and remember I matter to someone even if I am a drunken half-breed like you say.”
Levi’s heart smote him. “Charlie, I didn’t mean it that way. You are somebody and you matter. Now let’s find that coin.”
They both returned to their hands and knees and again searched the floor. The light under the cupboards was poor, so Levi lit the lantern and held it to shine light along the floor.
“I see it,” Charlie said and eased the coin from under the cupboard. Grinning widely, he stood to his feet. “Thanks, Levi. You’re a good cousin.” He tucked the coin into his pocket and left the cookhouse.
Levi watched out the window as Charlie crossed the yard to the bunkhouse. Despite his final words, Charlie’s accusations burned deep inside. He wasn’t a hard man.
Something else Charlie had said earlier burned through Levi’s brain. He’d said that Levi acted like women were poison. He rubbed his finger along the dusty window ledge. Beatrice wasn’t like poison in any way. More like roses and perfume. She seemed friendly and accepting of him.
But if Helen had proved anything, it was that it was okay to be friends with the likes of Levi when they weren’t in the company of others.
He wasn’t hard, he mentally argued. He was careful. After all, a man didn’t step on a cactus without getting spines in his foot. And he wasn’t likely to be so careless again about trusting.
Nor would he forgive Helen for the way she’d hurt him.
Maisie’s voice immediately sounded in his head. “Boys, there will always be people who offend us.” She said basically the same thing many times, but Levi recalled an incident when the boys were on the cusp of adulthood and had gone to town on their own. Tanner had been set upon by three bullies and came out of the fight with a battered face. He reported to Maisie all the ugly things the trio had said about him. Tanner bore the most resemblance to their mother’s kin and usually got the brunt of the cruel comments. Not that he ever walked away from the insults.
“We can keep track of all those offenses and they will soon become a burdensome weight on our shoulders. Or—” She kissed each of them on the forehead at this point. “We can forgive, leaving our offenders in the hands of a righteous God who judges all men fairly. Forgiveness is the only way to get rid of that load.”
“How can I forgive?” Tanner had asked, his words harsh with anger and pain.
“Only by trusting God’s fairness. And remember how Jesus so freely forgave each of us. Not because we deserve it.”
He didn’t know if Tanner ever truly believed those words until he met Susanne.
Levi wondered what it would take for him to be willing to forgive and forget the past.
Realizing it had been some time since he’d checked the entire ranch site, he hurried from the cookhouse and circled the buildings, looking for any sign of mischief. He completed his tour at the horse pasture. All the animals grazed contentedly. Their trough was full of water. He’d have to thank Charlie for that. The gate was securely fastened. Seeing everything was as it should be should have made him relax.
It didn’t. He knew the troublemakers were only waiting for a time when they could sneak in without being caught. Having Charlie here had limited such opportunities, but Levi was certain the culprits were lying low, biding their time.
What did they want? Why didn’t they simply knock on the door and tell him?
* * *
Beatrice managed to keep occupied throughout the next day with extra work in an attempt to keep from thinking of Levi. He’d
come for breakfast and lunch but hurried away after each meal. And Maisie hadn’t suggested they take Dolly out so she could rest.
“We do little work on Sunday,” Maisie said, and then she chuckled.
Beatrice had lost track of the passing days so Maisie’s announcement caught her off guard. Uncle Elwood would be working on his sermon for tomorrow. At least if he was able to get a break from caring for the sick. And Aunt Opal would be busy making soup to deliver to the ill. She missed them. With a start, she realized she missed them far more than her own parents, who had always been distant. The realization made her miss Aunt Opal and Uncle Elwood even more.
Maisie’s voice brought her back to the work she must do today. “At least the men don’t do anything but the essentials. But they still expect meals, so the women work. However, I’ve learned to do as much as possible on Saturdays so I can enjoy a quiet Sunday.” She instructed Beatrice on how to make a huge pot of soup full of several kinds of vegetables and some chopped meat.
“Enough for Sunday or in case Sam comes back.” Throughout the day, Maisie looked often at the door. When Big Sam hadn’t returned by nightfall, she grew worried. “Things must be worse than they thought.”
Dolly yawned widely.
“Come along, little one. I’ll put you in bed.” Beatrice waited, wondering if the girl would agree. Until now, she had refused to go until Beatrice did.
“Will you tell me a story?” Dolly whispered.
“Of course. It’s my favorite part of the day.”
Dolly beamed. “Mine, too.” She stood, shyly watching Levi. She waited for him to notice her.
He looked about the room until his gaze found Dolly and he jerked as if surprised to see her. “Who are you?”
“I’m Dolly,” she whispered then covered her mouth as she giggled.
“And what’s that you have in your arms?”
“My cat, Smokey.”
“Well, she looks like a very special cat.”
Dolly nodded, dancing from foot to foot as if recognizing the teasing in Levi’s eyes.
