by Caryl McAdoo
Once in the barn, she handed Asa the chainsaw. “I’d planned on getting some wood cut and split. The way daddy’s burning it, no way the three cords I cut last spring will make the winter.”
He took the saw. “Of course, we don’t want your father to be cold.” He snapped his finger. “I almost forgot. We need to be at the church before four.”
“Why? Some old lady needs to give you what for?”
He chuckled. “No, last night a Lee Ann left a note for me to call if I got home before nine. I didn’t. She said she’d stop by after school.
“Lee Ann Nichols?”
“Don’t know the family name. You know her?”
“Sure, her grandmother and Daddy are cousins.”
“So can we plan on being there at say three forty-five?”
“Sure, we can do that.” She grabbed the mixed gas can and chain oil then nodded toward the back of the barn. It tickled her that he was so ignorant of tractor’s mechanisms, but once she explained how the log splitter hooked up to the tractor and got him going on the wood pile she’d felled and dragged up last spring, he seemed ready. Maybe even eager.
“You got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She backed up and watched him cut the first two pieces then split them.
Good, but then it wasn’t quantum mechanics or crucial hypothesis of falsifiability. She got after her chores, smiling at the time Burk had tried to explain how it worked; reminded her of the supercalifragilisticexpialidocious word.
Taking each horse to the round pen, she cleaned that stall, adding new bedding where needed, filled the hay rack and gave each whatever workout they needed. She loved her work, being around the horses, but it sure did consume her time. Well, she didn’t like the stall mucking part, but hey, now she could give that job to Asa.
She chuckled to herself. If that didn’t run him off, maybe she’d be forced to consider it love. How could it be, though? Didn’t true affection take time? The word said the seven years Jacob worked for Rachel only seemed like a few days to him, but it never said she loved him.
Faith put it all out of her thoughts. She needed to concentrate on her chores. These horses couldn’t take care of themselves. Leastwise not so long as they lived in the stalls. Her own ran the pastures and woods as it should be, like if they lived in the wild. She smiled. Except her sweethearts came up twice a day for sweet feed, the big old babies, especially that Doc. She couldn’t love anyone as much as him.
With the paint gelding put away—she liked saving him for last—she strolled out the back door. A pile of split firewood, maybe half a rick, sat piled next to the tractor. Not bad. For sure he was no shirker. He must have spotted her because he waved then loaded another log into the splitter and flipped the handle. The steel knife pressed into the wood, then like the log was glass, divided it into two pieces.
Tossing the smaller one, he put the bigger one back to be split again. “Time for lunch?”
She joined him. “Dinner, and no, not yet. How’s it going?”
“Not too bad, my back’s barking some, but not too loud.”
“I need to feed, want to come with?”
“Sure, I’d love a break.” He turned off the tractor.
She nodded toward the barn. “I’ll get the truck, and if you’ll open that gate.” She pointed west. “You can learn how to drop cubes.”
Asa trotted to the afore-mentioned gate, opened it, then waited on her. Dropping cubes didn’t sound hard. A throaty rumble announced her, then she rounded the barn’s south end, driving an odd-looking little flatbed truck. It appeared to be at least a century old, well-battered and worn. On its flatbed, some kind of boxy contraption sat up close to the two-seater cab.
She pulled through and rolled her window down. “Get in. You can leave that one open until we come back through. The cows are in the far pasture.”
He slipped in. “Where’s the feed?”
“In the drop box.”
“That thing on the back?”
“That’d be the one. Actually, it’s pretty cool.”
“How’s it work?”
“Easy peasy; we just drive around, and it drops the cubes two pounds at a time twenty feet apart.”
Cool indeed. He figured she invited him to come so he could heft the feed bags. “Thanks for asking me along, feels good to sit down.”
She smiled. “Ulterior motive. I hate opening gates.”
“Oh well, thank you anyway.”
She bounced him like a rubber ball for a ways. He sure liked it that she didn’t need to talk all the time. Those folks drove him bonkers.
“Sorry the ride’s so rough. Blame it all on the hogs, the nasty beasts. Hey, do you like to hunt?”
“Haven’t ever, so don’t rightly know.”
She looked at him a long time, good thing she drove through a pasture without much traffic. “How come you picked Asa?”
“Do you know King Asa’s story?”
“Not really, never big on the Old Testament. Seemed rather dry and boring.”
“Au contraire, m’lady. How could it be that you think so?”
She laughed at his Victorian mocking. “How could you not?”
“So then, King David. Surely you know about him?”
“Of course.”
“Right, what Christian doesn’t? Anyway, David, then Solomon; then the kingdom split between Rehoboam and Jeroboam.”
“Yes, I remember that story, sort of.”
“Okay. Rehoboam, King of Judah, dies, and his son Abijam takes over, then he dies and his son Asa becomes king. So we’re four generations away from David. You with me?”
“Sure, but first before you go on, can you get that gate?” She nodded ahead.
He opened the door and spotted the two dozen big black cows huddled just on the other side of the entrance. He looked back at her. His gut tightened a little. “How do I keep them in?”
“You won’t have to. Just open the gate then hop back in.”
“Are they going to hurt me?”
She laughed. “Why I would never put my semi-possibility of a future husband in harm’s way. I mean, give me a break. You’re almost a fiancé, certainly a candidate for the position at least. Trust me. Open the gate then hop back in.”
They seemed friendly enough, but they never looked that big out grazing in their roadside pastures. He unhooked the keeper chain then pushed the gate open. Praise God it swung toward them, and they all ran back away from him. The black bovines didn’t charge him like he thought they might. He breathed a little easier, but scurried back to the truck posthaste.
She laughed again, and though he hated being the cause of her mirth, he loved the sound of her joy.
Never any worry though. She was wholly trustworthy, as the beasts only had eyes for her—or should he say her truck?—or rather, what fell from it. She pulled up next to him, and he jumped in, leaned back and relaxed.
“See that handle there?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She drove to the top of the little rise, with a parade of black cows trailing her in a game of follow the leader. The whole bunch of them. “Pull that lever back.”
He did, but nothing happened. She kept driving at a slow pace. “So what did I just do?”
“Look behind.”
A big cow, maybe the biggest, had her nose to the ground, chewing. “What’s she eating?”
“That’s number one, except her real name is Eighty-six.”
“What?”
“She’s the boss cow, but she was the sixth heifer born in 2008, so her registered name is Eighty-six, plus her mother’s number and whichever bull was her daddy. I can’t remember now, maybe Jester or Lex. Back then Daddy traded bulls pretty regular.”
“So you number the cows, but name the bulls?”
“Yeah, it’s easier that way.”
He glanced at the side mirror. The line of cows steadily grew. “Why?”
“We don’t ever keep a bull very long, a
nd the cow’s number tells us their age. Plus, their ear tags are color coded.”
“Wow, and I thought all you did was buy a cow and turn them out into a pasture.”
“Wish it was that easy.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What’d I do?”
“Wishing is witchcraft.”
She wrinkled her nose and sneered. “What in the world are you talking about?”
“Wishing is not praying. Stars don’t make good things come true. There’s no such thing as luck either. According to the Word, we’re blessed or cursed. Period.”
Seemed she wanted to argue, but held her peace. He liked that, her examining exactly what she believed, then finally she nodded. “You’re right. Hadn’t ever thought of it really.”
Wow, what more could he ask for? A chaste lady who could so quickly see and admit the error of her ways, a treasure for sure. “Sad, but most don’t. They never realize the power of their words and how every single one affects their lives.”
“Hey, I learned a little chorus about that.” She grinned then burst into song. “Choose, my child, the words you speak, for I will create the fruit of your lips. Your words get to your future ahead of you, what you said yesterday, you’re now walking through.”
“I like that. Never heard it before.”
“A friend of mine, Mary Esther Baylor, wrote it.”
“I know a Christian singer Mary Esther, but her last name is Robbins. Wouldn’t think there were that many with such an old timey name.”
“No, she’s one and the same. She came home a year ago and married Samuel Baylor. They were childhood sweethearts before her daddy died and her mother moved her back to Dallas. They’re the ones who started the Prayer on the Square at the School of the Prophets.”
“Really, what square?”
“Duh? Clarksville. I’m surprised you haven’t already met them. You need to. They’re a little different, but it’s obvious they really love the Lord.”
FOUR
“I suppose calling someone fortunate is out, too, then?” She pushed the rod back to the off position.
Asa nodded. “Yes, ma’am, fortune is another word for luck. And scripture clearly says to stay away from fortune tellers.”
She stopped. “You can close that gate now.”
He jumped out then stopped in his tracks. Instead of the cows trying to escape, they were all lined up chowing down on the cubes. He fixed the chain around the post, tested it, then hopped back in.
“Now, let’s get back to your name.”
“Right, from Solomon to Abijam, each king got worse, further away from their Creator. Then somehow, Asa chose to do what was right before the Lord. He even removed his mother from being queen because she worshipped an idol in a grove. What struck me was that maybe God took my mother out of my life because…” He shrugged. “Maybe she was evil. Could be my father, too, and his before him.”
“Well, there’s a thought.”
“But from Asa’s story, well, if my parents were evil, that didn’t mean I couldn’t do what was right before Him.” He grinned. “And Davidson seemed a natural.”
She liked it, and Faith Davidson had a nice ring to it. Cool being King David’s son instead of some mysterious John’s. She’d always loved the story of the shepherd boy who became king, and went up against the pagan giant Goliath and won. He was the same guy, right? Pretty sure, but she wouldn’t stake anything on it. But was being a Davidson really what she wanted?
Why hadn’t she said six months instead of one? Then again, did her father have that long?
By dinner, Asa had a small mountain of wood; she’d guesstimate a full rick or more. Then by two, she had the last cow horse in the round pen to work. Should be plenty of time. Three-quarters of the way through the gelding’s paces, the man showed looking past tuckered. From atop the paint, she changed the animal’s gait with the slightest knee pressure. The horse’s smooth ride amazed her. She’d never ridden another like him, well, except for Doc.
With each trip around, she inspected her new intended. Sure couldn’t tell he wore high dollar boots now. His shirt bloused and plenty of dirt smudged it. She loved it; got way more than her kiss’s worth out of him that day. She kneed the mount to a stop, swung out of the saddle, dropped the reins, and walked to where the man stood.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Are there more logs somewhere else?”
“Nope. That’s all I got.”
“Ah, what I hoped to hear.” He grinned. “Got all those cut up and split.”
“Excellent.” She took off her hat. “Watch this.” She turned around and took two steps toward the horse, still standing right where she left him. She sailed her hat at the gelding’s front hooves. He didn’t flinch. She retrieved it then tossed it at a back hoof. Again he didn’t move. With her hat back on, she draped the reins over her shoulder then strolled back to where Asa stood. The cow pony walked behind, his breath warming her back.
The man wore an awestruck expression. “Wow, I’m impressed. You throw something at me, I’ll jump every time.”
“Want to ride him? He’s smooth as glass, really something.”
“I’d love to, but what I’d really like right now is a hot shower and change of clothes before Lee Ann gets to the church.”
She smiled. “I can understand that. Help me brush him out, and we’ll go.”
With at least the time of a quick shower to spare, he got her to the church, unlocked his office door then trotted to the parsonage. Maybe she hadn’t worked him hard enough after all, or could be he hated the thought of someone seeing him dirty and unkempt. With his fancy clothes, he might be a bit vain.
So much she didn’t know about the man.
The sound of brakes squealing pulled her away from the book of James in the Bible she’d found on a side table and toward the front window. Her cousin got off the school bus, waved at the driver, then hurried right for the parsonage. Bless God, the baby girl had blossomed into a young lady. Faith stepped outside.
“Hey, Lee Ann, over here.”
Her—what? sixth cousin twice removed?—stopped then faced her, staring a long minute. “Faith? Is that you?”
“Yes, ma’am. I think Asa wants you over here.”
“Who?”
Of course she didn’t know his first name. “Pastor Davidson.”
“Oh, yeah? Is he in there? I can come back if you two aren’t through.”
“No, no. He’ll be here any minute now. He’s expecting you. Come on in.”
She seemed torn but finally changed directions. “How’s Uncle Carl?”
“About the same.”
“Haven’t seen either of you at church in a while. He too bad to get out?”
“We’ve been going some to the Double R Cowboy Church.”
“Oh.” She opened her mouth, seemed to have another question, but appeared to decide not to ask it.
“Yeah, Daddy likes it, I think for my sake. More young people, and you know he wants to get me married off.”
Then her inquiry must have got the best of her. “So why are you here instead of talking to your new pastor? Tracy, right?”
The door opened, and Asa strolled in completely transformed, white shirt and gray slacks, obviously straight from the dry cleaners, and those same fancy loafers he’d had on the first time he came out and offered to marry her. Wow, that was yesterday. His hair, still damp, slicked back with a little off center roll in front. A good-looking blue blazer topped it all off.
She needed to check his nails, see for herself if the man had a manicure. He offered his hand to Lee Ann. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”
“I’m good.” The girl glanced at Faith then back to Asa. “I can come back.”
“No, now’s good. Take a seat. What can I help you with?”
“Uh.”
“Let’s sit.” He slipped around his desk, motioned the girl to take the seat across from him, and pulled a chair up for Faith to join t
hem on his side. He smiled. “Now what’s on your mind?”
“Well… Are you like a TV lawyer? Where no one can make you tell what I say?”
He shook his head. “I’m not under any legal confidentiality, but you can count on me not blabbing your private business. Now that’s unless it’s something your parents need to know about—and I’m talking something really serious—I won’t repeat it. I never break a confidence lightly.”
She turned to Faith. “What about you, cousin?”
“I’m with him.”
“Well, it’s my parents I want to talk about. They’re the problem. Both of them are stubborn dinosaurs.”
“Lee Ann, how old are you?”
“I’ll be fifteen next spring.”
“That’s a pretty common complaint among your peers. Exactly what are y’all at odds about?”
She looked from him to Faith then back to the man. Straightening her back, she scooted to the edge of her chair, smiled like an embarrassed fourteen-year-old, then blew out all her breath in one big half-sigh, half-huff. “I would like for you to tell them that it’s perfectly alright for me to car date.”
Almost in unison, two simultaneous, succinct voices answered no to the request. The responses then echoed through the room’s sudden silence. Faith immediately repented to God for butting in and resisted saying more. She hadn’t meant to open her mouth, but bless God, it just came out. She hoped Asa wouldn’t be upset.
“No? You’re both saying no? Why not? We only get to see each other at school, and he gets his license in three weeks. If I can’t go out with him, he’ll dump me for sure.”
“Who’s the young man?”
“Sky Carter, his real name is Skylar, but he goes by Sky.”
“Where does he go to church?”
She shrugged “I don’t know. He may not go anywhere.”
“Have you invited him to New Hope?”
“No, I don’t think he’d want to come.” She left off the duh, but her tone reeked of it. Made Faith want to get up right then and call the girl’s mother, but she stayed put. Not over something so trivial, according to Asa’s promise. Besides, hadn’t been that long ago when she was fourteen and in love.
