Julia wasn’t sure what her mama meant by all she said, but she nodded as if she understood.
“I love you,” Mama added, cupping Julia’s chin in her hand. “When you get scared in the night, you just pull those covers over your head and you hear me say those words. Okay?”
Again she nodded.
“Someday it’ll be better.” Mama turned and looked toward the window. “Someday it will.”
“New life. Fresh hope.”
Julia’s simple words, spoken poignantly, had made Hugh think of his youngest sister. He didn’t know why. Julia didn’t resemble Diana. Unlike Hugh or Felicia, his baby sister had taken after their mother — red hair, green eyes, pale complexion. He recalled her as adorable and impish. Even when she got caught in some mischief, she’d managed to escape punishment. Even their drunk of a father had favored Diana, the child who saw the world through rose-colored glasses. He wondered if she still saw it that way, eighteen years later.
“My goodness,” Julia said. “We both grew rather pensive.”
He cleared his throat of unwelcome emotion. “Yeah, I guess we did.” He looked up the hillside to his right — and for just a moment, thought he saw something among the trees. Maybe a horse and rider? He squinted. No, he didn’t see any movement. But the hair on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end, and the feeling unsettled him.
“Shall we go back, Mr. Brennan?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll ride the fence line while I’m out this way.” He looked at her again. “I’ll be back by suppertime.”
She returned his gaze for a moment, then called for Bandit and turned her horse toward the house.
Hugh watched her go and wondered what made her want to remain on this ranch so far from civilization. Alone. Unprotected. Vulnerable. He wished …
He shook his head and looked once more toward the trees on the hillside. Nothing there. His eyes were playing tricks on him. So were the hairs on his neck.
He nudged the horse forward. They moved down a slope and rode through the cows and up to the fence that followed the hillside about twenty yards from the copse of trees. There they stopped, and Hugh’s eyes once again raked the area. Only when he was completely satisfied did he ride on.
NINE
Another Sunday arrived, but unlike the previous week, this one dawned with clear skies. As soon as her morning chores were done, Julia saddled Teddy and rode to her favorite spot on the river. There, in the shade of several tall pine trees, Bandit exploring nearby, she spread a blanket and opened her Bible.
A few times in the early years of her marriage, she’d railed at God or begged Him to rescue her. More than once she’d demanded to know why things were as they were. There had been periods when she was convinced God thought even less of her than Angus did. Not true, of course. The Lord loved her. Somehow He’d broken through her fear, pain, and anger and revealed Himself and His love. When she couldn’t think of anything else to thank Him for, she always thanked Him for that.
This morning, she lay on her back on the huge rock that jutted over a bend in the river and called out a portion of a favorite Psalm:
For there is not a word in my tongue,
but lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether.
Thou hast beset me behind and before,
and laid thine hand upon me.
She smiled as she let her eyes close. How marvelous to understand that no matter what path she was on, God went before her and He was also behind her. He enclosed her. His hand was upon her. What a difference it made, knowing it. If only she could be conscious of it at all times.
“I’m trying, Father.”
Keeping her eyes closed, she sought to be still, she sought to listen to Him. But it wasn’t God’s quiet voice that came to her. It was Hugh Brennan’s: “Some folks live their whole lives without ever knowing what they want or where they belong.”
His comment left her oddly disturbed. But why should that be so? She did belong here. Sage-hen was her home. True, at one time it had seemed more of a prison, but now it was her sanctuary.
“One day we’ll leave Grand Coeur and go some place far from here. Like a couple of birds, we’ll just fly away … I want you to stretch your wings, my darlin’ girl, and learn to soar.”
Julia opened her eyes and saw the trees above her sway in a gust of wind. A dozen or so birds abandoned their resting places, flying high and fast, as if giving her an example of what her mother had wanted for her so long ago.
If Julia had wings, where would they take her? What would she want to see? A big city? Perhaps San Francisco or New York. Another country? France or Italy or maybe Greece. The ocean? Any ocean. But try as she might, she couldn’t imagine herself anywhere but here. Even her childhood in Idaho seemed to have happened to someone else, more dreams than memories.
“Would you still want me to fly away, Mama?” she wondered aloud.
Madeline Crane had always wanted something better, something different for her daughter. She’d done what she could to make sure Julia escaped the kind of life she’d had. But it had all turned out so very wrong, and Julia had blamed her mother for that.
“I’m sorry, Mama. I know God forgives me for the harsh words I wrote to you. I regret them so much. I hope you know I love you. Someday I hope you’ll forgive me too. If only I knew where you were. If only …”
She rolled onto her stomach. Lifting her upper torso by her forearms, she stared at the flowing water beyond the end of the rock. The river was deep and swift here. And cold. So very, very cold. Several years ago, after miscarrying her last baby, she’d come to this rock and considered throwing herself into the river. In her grief, death had seemed the only answer to her misery. But an unseen hand had fallen upon her shoulder, stopping her. An inaudible voice had spoken comfort into her heart, and somehow she’d found the strength and courage to live on. To face Angus’s fury at her continued failure to give him a living child.
Tears sprang to her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
Her babies. She’d wanted her babies. Despite the unhappiness of her marriage and the loathing she’d often felt for her husband, she’d wanted a child. Three times she’d almost had her heart’s desire. First there had been a daughter, stillborn at eight months. Then there had been a son, also stillborn. And finally there was the baby she’d lost when only three months gone. She’d nearly died too. The bed had turned crimson with her blood.
Had she lost that baby because Angus hit her? Or had he hit her because she’d lost the baby? It was hard to remember which was cause and which was effect. All she remembered for certain was the doctor’s grim expression as he’d told her it was unlikely she would ever carry a child to term, that it would be best if she didn’t try.
Julia hid her face in her arms and wept for the babies she would never hold.
The barnyard was empty and too quiet without Julia and Bandit around. It surprised Hugh that he found it so. He was a man who’d learned to be comfortable with his own company and with silence. Solitude suited him. Only it didn’t suit him today.
He’d seen Julia ride out earlier, a rolled blanket secured behind her saddle, Bandit running on ahead of horse and rider as usual. Hugh had wanted to call after her, to ask where she was going, but he’d stopped himself. It wasn’t his business. If she’d wanted him to know, she would have told him.
As morning became midday and Julia hadn’t returned, hunger drew Hugh into the house to find something to eat. With a sharp knife, he cut himself a couple of slices of bread and several more of cheese. As he nibbled on the latter, he allowed his gaze to roam over the living area until it rested on the chair near the window. He pictured her seated there, sunlight gilding her hair, as he’d seen her a few days before. A different kind of hunger stirred inside of him, a desire to be the kind of man a woman like Julia Grace could look up to.
He might as well wish for the moon.
With a slow shake of his head, he moved toward the open front door. He was st
epping onto the porch when a man rode into the barnyard.
The newcomer looked surprised when he saw Hugh. “Mrs. Grace around?” he asked, a note of suspicion in his tone.
“No, she’s not.”
Who’re you? the other man’s eyes demanded.
Hugh answered the unspoken question. “I work for Mrs. Grace. Can I help you?”
“My name’s Peter Collins. We’re her neighbors.”
“That’s my nearest neighbor’s place,” Hugh remembered Julia saying. “The Collins’ family. They’ve got ten children. All girls.”
Ten daughters, huh? No wonder the man had a slightly harried look about him.
“My wife sent me to ask Mrs. Grace to join us for dinner next Sunday. My brother-in-law’s coming to visit for a week or two, and Rose would like the two of them to meet. I’d be obliged if you’d tell her when she gets back.”
Before Hugh could respond, Bandit ran into the barnyard. The two men looked beyond the corral and paddock and watched as Julia loped her horse toward them. A minute later, she slowed the gelding to a walk and then came to a halt.
“Peter!” A smile of welcome brightened her face. “What brings you to Sage-hen? How’re Rose and the girls?”
“They’re all fine.”
“And the baby?”
“Growing like a weed. Prettiest baby in the world.”
Hugh saw a shadow flit across Julia’s face.
“Care for a cup of coffee?” She slipped from the saddle and looped the reins around the top rail of the corral.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Julia looked at Hugh, her eyes sliding to the remainder of the bread and cheese in his right hand.
“Hope you don’t mind that I helped myself,” he said. “I got hungry and wasn’t sure when you’d be back.”
“I don’t mind. Only I promised good vittles when I offered you the job, and I don’t think bread and cheese measures up.”
There were times in his life when the food he held in his hand would have been considered a feast, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Come on,” she said. “The both of you. Come inside.”
Peter dismounted and secured his horse. Hugh waited on the porch, then followed Peter into the house. Julia was already setting the coffeepot on the stove by the time the two men sat at the kitchen table.
“What brings you to Sage-hen, Peter?”
“Rose sent me to ask you to dinner next Sunday.” His gaze shifted to Hugh. “Your hired man too, if he wants to come. The more the merrier, like they say.” He held out his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t get your name when we met outside.”
“Hugh Brennan.”
The two men shook hands.
“Pleasure,” Peter said. “I guess that was you I saw with Julia on your way to town last week.”
Hugh nodded.
“You’ll be staying on?”
Julia answered before Hugh could. “Just until after I take the cows to market. Mr. Brennan is on his way to Idaho.”
“Oh? Sorry to hear that.” Peter turned his gaze from Hugh to Julia. “You could use some help here year ‘round.”
“Can’t afford it,” she answered with a patient smile. “But never mind that. What can I bring when we come for Sunday dinner?”
Peter chuckled, obviously knowing when a woman wanted to change a subject. “Not a thing. Rose has got it all planned out, and you know how she is. Likes to do things her own way.”
Smiling, Julia settled onto a chair. “Yes, I know.”
This was the most relaxed and at ease Hugh had seen Julia since the first day he rode in. That she and Peter were trusted friends was apparent, and it made Hugh feel envious.
Looking at Peter, he said, “Are you sure your wife will want me included? I don’t mind if—”
“She’ll want you. Rose loves herself a chance to sit down with other adults. More than just me, that is. Most days she’s surrounded by a bunch of little ones, so she does love havin’ company.”
Julia laughed along with Peter, and the companionable mood inside the kitchen chased away the envy and began to warm the lonely places in Hugh’s heart.
Peter hadn’t lied when he said Rose liked to have company over, but he might have stretched the truth about her being glad to have Hugh Brennan join them. Not when his wife’s purpose for the Sunday dinner was to introduce her brother to Julia. Rose was a romantic, and she had matchmaking in mind. Peter had tried to tell her she was wasting her time. Julia Grace wouldn’t be interested in his brother-in-law. She wouldn’t be interested in another marriage to anyone. Not any time soon, at least.
His gaze shifted to Julia’s hired hand. Hugh Brennan was a difficult man to read. There was a wariness that never left his eyes. Even when he laughed, he held something back, as if he didn’t quite trust the others at the table. Still, Peter found himself liking the younger man. His wife said he had the gift of discernment. He hoped she was right. His instincts at the moment said there was no reason to wish Hugh gone from Sage-hen.
Julia’s next words jerked him from his thoughts. “I reckon Abigail will be getting engaged soon.”
“Engaged?” Peter felt his eyes go wide. “Who to?”
She was silent a moment and then laughed again. “Are you telling me you haven’t noticed the Kittson boy coming round your place all spring?”
“Mark Kittson? He’s been helping me with the planting. I’m paying him to be there.”
Julia shook her head, the laughter remaining in her eyes. He knew the look. Rose gave him the same one when she thought him obtuse.
Come to think of it, maybe he was being obtuse about Mark. The boy did tend to spend a lot of time hanging around the front porch before he left for home at day’s end. And Abigail did always seem to be present. But engaged? She was too young for that. Just seventeen.
Seventeen. That’s how old Rose was when he’d asked her to marry him.
“Great Scott,” he whispered beneath his breath.
Julia was still smiling as she waved goodbye to her neighbor before he rode out of sight. His visit had been the perfect tonic for her sagging spirits. And it would be good to spend an afternoon with the Collins family.
I keep to myself too much.
It wasn’t easy to break a habit honed by years of practice. Julia had become used to sticking close to home, not socializing with her neighbors, staying inside the borders set for her by her husband. She’d only been able to become friends with Rose because Rose hadn’t been cowed by Angus. Rose had driven her wagon into the yard, every year or two with another daughter in tow, and plopped herself down for a visit, ignoring the scowls Angus sent her way.
Bless you, Rose Collins.
“Julia.”
She turned toward Hugh, who had exited the house behind her.
“You sure I should go with you next week? I know Mr. Collins didn’t come here meaning to ask anyone but you.”
“Peter was right. Rose will be delighted to have you come. Besides, I want you to meet her. You’ll like her a great deal. Everyone does.”
Hugh glanced in the direction of the road, his expression thoughtful. Silence stretched between them, and Julia thought their conversation was at an end. But before she could walk away, he said, “Would you mind telling me something?” He looked at her again. But it was more than just looking. He seemed to see her.
“If I can.”
“What made you change your mind about me?”
“Change my mind?”
“When I rode in ten days ago, you were wishing you had your rifle to point at me. Now you’ve got me working here and eating at your table and calling you by your Christian name. Why? You don’t know me from Adam.”
He was right, of course. She didn’t know much about him beyond his name and his willingness to work hard. Yet she wasn’t sorry that she’d asked him to stay on. “I’m not sure why,” she answered at last.
He studied her with his dark eyes, as if trying to see beyond her words to
a truth she didn’t know herself.
Suddenly uncomfortable, she turned and stepped off the porch. “I’d best take care of Teddy.” She walked toward the gelding, putting an abrupt end on the conversation.
TEN
Hugh could ride a horse as well as most and he could shoot a rifle with some accuracy. However, he was by no stretch of the imagination a cowboy. Still he thought he could take to the life of a cattle rancher. There was something satisfying about getting up with the chickens, eating a hearty breakfast, and then riding out to check the fences and irrigate the land where the cattle grazed. There was something good about falling into bed at night, exhausted but knowing he’d done what he’d been hired to do. Maybe he wouldn’t feel the same way after a month. Maybe he’d be more than ready to move on. But for the present, as his second week on the ranch drew to a close, he was glad to be working and living on Sage-hen.
The afternoon had grown surprisingly warm by the time Hugh rode his horse into the barnyard on Wednesday. Sweat trickled down his back, dampening his shirt, and he was in need of a long drink of water to wash down the day’s dust. Julia’s horse, Teddy, grazed in the nearby paddock, but Bandit was nowhere to be seen. Unusual. The dog was normally quick to see who had ridden into the yard.
Hugh unsaddled his horse and turned the gelding into the paddock with Teddy. Then he carried the tack into the barn. It was there he found Julia’s spaniel, sitting at the bottom of the ladder to the loft, staring upward.
“What is it, fella?” Hugh asked as he set his saddle on the rack. Then he heard Julia’s laughter from above.
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