It was late the next morning when Sam woke. He stretched stiff, sore muscles that creaked in protest after a day of fire fighting. After dressing, he left the bedroom and saw Cheryl out on the balcony, cradling a steaming cup in her hands as she leaned a hip against the railing. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a yellow shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and her shoulders were slumped. It struck him that she looked more like a lonely kid than an elegant dancer.
She turned around at the sound of the sliding glass door opening and smiled. He smiled back, but wondered why she often seemed so sad when she thought no one was looking. “’Morning.”
“’Morning? It’s almost noon, lazy bones. Walter left to check the fence in the west pasture an hour ago. He told me to tell you to feed the horses.”
“Okay. Come on, I could use some help.”
“Doing what?”
“Someone has to explain to Dusty why his breakfast is late.”
Cheryl followed Sam out to the barn, happy to be included in his day. She drank in the sight of him as he worked. He lifted the heavy bales of hay effortlessly as the muscles of his broad back and shoulders bunched and flexed beneath his faded denim shirt. She was leaning against the barn stall when she felt a nudge at her back and turned to find Dusty looking for some attention.
Sam finished his chores and came to stand beside her as she patted the horse’s neck. “Want to see something cute?”
“Another new calf?”
“Think smaller, but kind of hard to get to.”
“What and where?”
“I can’t tell you what, but where is in the hay loft.”
She pointed to her cast. “Sam, I can’t climb up there.”
“Sure you can. Do you trust me?”
“Maybe.”
“Yes or no?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Good.” He grabbed her and hefted her over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “Put me down!” She pummeled his back as he strode to the front of the barn.
“You can’t climb the hayloft ladder with that cast on, New York. I’m helping you up.”
“Oh, no you don’t! You are not going to carry me up a ladder like this!”
“Relax. You don’t weigh any more than a flea. I’ve carried sacks of grain up there that were bigger than you.”
“Oh, that’s great. How many of them have you dropped?”
“Not more than five or six. Hey, grab that horse blanket.”
“Why should I?”
“The hay is soft, but it’s prickly. Take my advice and grab the blanket.”
Cheryl snatched the dark blue blanket off the stall door as he walked past. At least if he dropped her, she’d have something to break her fall.
He quickly started up the wooden ladder beside the front door. With a squeak, Cheryl squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed on to his belt as the barn floor dropped away beneath her.
“Okay, you can let go now,” Sam said as he stepped onto the solid floor and set her down.
She glared at him. “That was not fun, Sam!”
He grinned. “Yes, it was.”
“Look, you big, bull-headed cowboy. If you think for one minute that I enjoyed that!”
He touched his finger to his lips. “Hush.”
“I will not be hushed.”
“You’ll wake the babies.”
She scowled at him. “What babies?”
He walked to a stack of bales, dropped to his belly in the hay and motioned for her to do the same. “Come see.”
Cheryl lay on the hay beside him and looked into a space between the hay bales. A small gray cat looked back at her with luminous green eyes. Beside her, four long-haired, yellow, newborn kittens slept nestled together.
Sam grinned at Cheryl. “I found them yesterday morning. I think Bonkers is a father.”
Her giggle was music to his ears. A lifetime with this woman wouldn’t be enough. His grin faded, and he sobered at the thought. What if she didn’t stay? What if all he had wasn’t enough for her? Please, God, don’t let it happen again.
The days that followed were some of the happiest Cheryl could remember. One afternoon, Sam installed a long wooden barre and a full-length mirror on the rec-room wall. Delighted, Cheryl spent hours practicing and teaching the twins to use it properly. While Sam and Walter finished burning the range, Cheryl took care of the house and the children. She dusted off her cooking skills and beamed with pride when Sam complimented her meals.
Sitting at the table in the evenings, she listened to Sam and Walter discuss the ranch work and their breeding programs. It was strange and yet wonderful to feel so included in the lives of the people she’d grown to love. Was this what belonging to a family was supposed to feel like?
The next afternoon, the twins persuaded her to help them fly their kites, and she followed them across to the hillside opposite the house. As they passed the old oak tree, she saw that someone had nailed wooden strips to its slanted trunk, and a few planks were visible in its leafy branches.
“Is this your tree house?” Cheryl asked as she sat down in the shade. Bonkers climbed into her lap for attention.
“It was Daddy’s and Aunt Becky’s.”
“When they were little like us.”
“I see.” Cheryl smiled as she imagined a young Sam the budding architect constructing it.
The twins ran to launch their kites, and the western breeze carried them quickly out over the valley below the hillside. Cheryl leaned back against the trunk of the tree and watched as the red-and-yellow kites dipped and soared in the wind silhouetted against the blue sky and the fluffy white clouds that drifted by. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air on a glorious spring day.
A meadowlark sang somewhere in the tall grass, and the wind stirred the branches overhead and set them to whispering. The children laughed and shouted, and on her lap Bonkers purred in contentment.
“A penny for your thoughts,” a voice spoke above her.
She opened one eye and squinted up at Sam as he towered over her. He tipped the brim of his hat up and leaned his broad shoulder against the tree trunk. “Or aren’t they worth that much?”
“I was just thinking how brave your parents were.”
His brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“To spend all that money to send you to college to study architecture after they saw your early work.” She pointed above them.
He glanced up at the haphazard tree house. “You might not believe it, but I had a beautiful set of blueprints to follow. That was when I discovered an architect is only as good as his builder. I also discovered I was much better with paper than with a hammer and nails.” He sat down beside her. “Mind if I share your tree?”
“Not at all, just promise me you won’t haul me up to see your tree house first-hand.” Cheryl could have bitten her wayward tongue as a speculative gleam leapt into Sam’s eyes. He studied the boards above them but slowly shook his head.
“It’s an idea, but I don’t think those old timbers could take the stress,” he said as he grinned at her.
She shot him a look of disgust. “Don’t you have some ranch work to do?”
He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “I do, but I’d rather spend the time with you. Unfortunately, I’m needed in one of the pastures. I just stopped to tell you that Gramps and I’ll be in late for supper.” He rose and tipped his hat in her direction, then strode away.
She sat up straight and gave her attention to the children while trying to ignore the happy hum of her pulse.
As much as Cheryl liked the girls, watching two active and imaginative kids turned out to be harder than she believed possible.
Sam came into the house the next afternoon as she was cleaning up, followed by two contrite-looking children. Cheryl stared at them in surprise. She’d thought they were downstairs watching TV. In fact, she could still hear the sounds of cartoons coming up the stairwel
l.
His tone was stern as he crossed his arms and said, “Show Cheryl what you did.”
Lindy glanced once at his set face then held out her hands. Messy globs of vibrant pink covered her fingertips as she held out an empty bottle of nail polish. Cheryl took the vial and looked to Sam for an explanation. She’d used her favorite shade of Rose Petal Pink just that morning, and she was sure she’d left the bottle on the dresser in her room.
“Apologize for taking something that didn’t belong to you,” Sam said.
Kayla’s face was downcast. “We’re sorry.”
“We just wanted to—”
“—look as pretty—”
“—as you do.” They fell silent and stared at their feet.
“Tell her the rest,” Sam said sternly.
“Let me guess,” Cheryl said, looking at Sam. “Bonkers is now pink?”
“No, but not because they didn’t try.”
“He wouldn’t hold still,” Lindy said, looking contrite.
“Harvey held still,” Sam told her. “My prize breeding bull has hot pink hooves.”
While Cheryl had learned that Harvey really was a gentle giant, she blanched at the thought of these two crawling into his pen and painting his feet. He could have trampled them without even trying. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I thought they were downstairs, honest.”
“They’re going to be—in their room until supper time and no TV tonight. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” they agreed together, and left the room.
When they were out of earshot, Cheryl burst into laughter. “A bull with pink toenails. This I’ve got to go see.”
Sam shook his head, but he was grinning too. “I plan on moving him into the Hazy Creek pasture with four new cows on Saturday. I just hope the heifers don’t get jealous. Buying nail polish for the entire herd could bankrupt me.”
“I’m out of pink, but I’ve got some red you can borrow if that will help keep the peace.”
Sam chuckled. “No thanks. I came in to tell you that Walter’s going into Council Grove tomorrow. If you want, you and the twins can ride along. Kayla says her boots are pinching her toes. Do you think you can help her find some new ones? I would take her, but I’ve got another meeting with my firm.”
Cheryl hesitated. Each time she went to town, she was courting disaster. What if someone recognized her?
Sam noticed her hesitation. “Forget I mentioned it. I can’t keep adding more and more to your duties.”
How could she deny him anything? In truth, she didn’t want to. “I think a temporary ninny should be able to manage a new pair of shoes.”
“Thanks. And I mean for everything you do.”
Cheryl held the memory of his warm gaze close to her heart all day long.
Finding a new pair of boots in town Friday afternoon turned out to be easy enough. Cheryl and the girls finished their shopping a full half hour before the time Walter had agreed to pick them up.
“What shall we do now?” Cheryl asked.
“We could get some ice cream,” Lindy suggested.
“That sounds good,” Cheryl agreed.
She began walking toward the river that divided the town. The girls skipped along beside her, chattering happily. They crossed the bridge, and Cheryl saw the town had added a new statue on the east bank as she passed a larger-than-life bronze figure of a Kaw Indian warrior. Across the street stood the monument of the Madonna of the Plains, a pioneer woman looking westward with her children at her side. The small Kansas town was fiercely proud of its place in the history of the West.
The bright red ice-cream shop stood sandwiched between the street and the sloping bank of the river. Once they had their cones, the girls ran back to play around the Indian statue, and Cheryl followed along behind them. She was admiring the artist’s work when the sound of squealing tires pierced the stillness. She looked up to see a battered green-and-white pickup swerving to miss a car that had stopped to turn. The pickup accelerated and sped out of town.
Cheryl watched with a sense of unease as the weaving green-and-white truck disappeared down the highway. She turned to the girls. “We told Walter we’d meet him in front of the shoe store. We’d better hurry.”
The twins eagerly displayed their new boots for Walter, but Cheryl herded the girl into his truck and quickly climbed in after them, happy to be heading back to the seclusion of the ranch.
The twins came barreling into Cheryl’s room early the next morning. Kayla tried to wrest the covers away from Cheryl while Lindy jumped up and down on the bed.
“Come on!”
“You’ve got to get dressed.”
“We’ll be late for church—”
“—if you don’t hurry.”
“Girls, please,” Cheryl pleaded. “I’m not going to church.”
“What?” Lindy collapsed in a heap at the foot of the bed. Kayla let go of the blanket and the sisters exchanged shocked looks.
“But it’s Sunday,” Kayla said.
Lindy leaned forward. “We all go to church on Sunday.”
Cheryl pulled the covers up to her chin. “Sunday is a day of rest, right? Okay, I’m resting.”
The twins moved to stand side by side at the foot of the bed. They exchanged puzzled glances.
Lindy said, “How will God know you’re thankful for the things He’s given you if you don’t go to His house and tell Him?”
They waited for her to answer.
Looking at their serious faces, Cheryl couldn’t find it in herself to offer another excuse or to dismiss their beliefs out of hand. Their faith was important to them. A faith as strong as the one Sam and his family shared was something that had been missing in her own life. She found it was something she wanted to learn more about. After all, she had many, many things to be thankful for.
Kayla took her hand. “Please come with us.”
Perhaps now was the time to show some courage. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Scoot out of here so I can get dressed.”
They exchanged glowing smiles and dashed from the room. Cheryl heard them yelling the news at their father. She couldn’t hear his reply, but she was certain that Sam would be every bit as pleased as the twins.
Later that morning, inside the pretty stone church on the edge of Council Grove, Cheryl found herself seated between Sam and the girls. She had worn her hair down so that it partially hid her face if she kept her head bowed. Glancing around carefully, she saw several faces in the crowded pews that looked familiar. Speculative glances were being cast in her direction but she couldn’t tell if it was because she looked familiar to them or if it was because she was with Sam. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. She took a deep breath to keep from bolting out the door.
The organist began playing and the congregation joined in the hymn. Sam held his songbook so that she could see the words. The tiny invitation lightened her heart and made her forget for a moment that she had anything to hide. She added her voice to the chorus and set her worries aside.
After the hymn, the young pastor moved to the pulpit. “Good morning, brothers and sisters. In case any of you haven’t noticed, it’s springtime outside.”
That brought a sprinkling of laughter from the people around her, and Cheryl smiled as well.
“Springtime,” he continued. “A time for new beginnings. A time for renewal, both of the land and of our hearts. And of our spirits. I’d like talk to you today about learning to accept the way God has chosen to arrange our lives. How for us, His children, He has made a time for everything. I would like to read to you now from Ecclesiastes, chapter three. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
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a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.”
Cheryl listened to his sermon with a sense of wonder. It was as if God had arranged the world so that she would be here to listen to these passages today. The words on the sundial came to life in the voice of the young pastor and Cheryl opened her heart to hear them.
A time to mend. A time to be silent and a time to speak. Was God offering her a chance to mend her life? Was the time to be silent passing and the time to speak out at hand?
She looked over at Sam and caught his eye. He smiled and she was so very glad the twins had convinced her to come. This was the life Sam wanted her to know. Was it possible? If only she dared believe that it could be.
At the end of the service, her old fears came creeping back. She made her way out of the church slowly on her crutches. Outside, she saw the congregation had broken up into smaller groups of friends and families eager to visit and exchange news. Many of the people were looking at her with frank curiosity. She kept her head down.
Sam remained at her side. “Are you okay?”
“My foot is aching terribly. Can we go home?” She used her ready excuse to avoid meeting Sam’s friends and neighbors.
“Sure.”
His solicitous care the rest of the day pricked her conscience, but she wasn’t ready to bare her soul, to risk her happiness on the chance that she wouldn’t be accepted. But that night, she asked Walter if she could borrow his Bible. She took it to her room and read until the early hours of the morning.
Monday morning Kayla came into the kitchen and laid several envelopes on the counter. “Is there anything for us? Grandma said she’d write to us.”
Love Thine Enemy Page 14
