Lord;
and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. She smiled softly. What
a beautiful promise. The Bible was filled with God’s promises.
Trust in the Lord .
She stared out the open window, the land stretched as far as she could see. She
did trust in the Lord, and the land was provided. Could she be the kind of
steward the Lord would have her to be? They continued to be fed and provided
for. Trust.
Delight thyself in the Lord . But what were the
desires of her heart? Jo’s smiling face danced before her mind’s eye. She
smiled. Suddenly, an image of Luke appeared in her mind, but behind him were
dark and soulful eyes shimmering in the distance as though seen through a fog.
She frowned. What about Luke?
A hawk screeched in the night,
breaking the spell. The air flowing through the window was turning colder. She
rose and closed the window, turned out the lamp, and went to bed secure and
peaceful in God’s loving promises.
***
Luke unpacked his few belongings
from the saddlebags. He put the farrier tools in the chest at the foot of the
bunk he had chosen. There were hooks on the wall above the bed to hang his clothes
and his chaps. The straw filled tick already lay soft and inviting on the rough
frame, and he covered it with a muslin sheet and dark wool blanket. He threw a
couple of books on the bed The other cowboys he had worked with weren’t much
for reading, but he still enjoyed good literature, and he continued to carry a
book or two, trading them for new ones whenever he could. Not everything his
father had tried to instill in him had gone to waste, he thought ruefully.
Picking up his razor and a
few other personal items, he carried them to the washstand. Jonathan had filled
the pitcher with fresh water before leaving for the night. Opening the door on
the front of the stand he reached in to stash his belongings. As he dropped the
things, his hand bumped an object already there. Curious, he pulled out a book.
He turned it over and realized that it was a Bible. The word was intricately
scrolled across the front in fading gold leaf. The leather cover was worn, and
the pages fragile from use.
In his mind’s eye he saw his
father standing in his pulpit reading from just such a Bible every Sunday. The
stern commands and fiery words casting fear through Luke’s young mind. Later,
when Pa had sent him to seminary, the Bible had taken on different proportions
and meanings. He had dutifully studied the Word, finding in it an interesting
history, and useful narratives, but he never found the deep, abiding love that
others found there.
Rising, he glanced out the window
into the quiet moonlit night. Something caught his eye, looking again, he
realized that a light was on in the main house, and a figure stood silhouetted
at the window. He watched as she opened the pane and the breeze caught her
white gown, blowing it against her. Loose brown hair blew softly across her face
obscuring her features. He watched in stunned silence for a moment before
averting his eyes and closing the curtains.
Who was this woman he now
worked for? He knew only what Martha had told him. Kate Shaughnessey was
widowed a few months back, running the small ranch by herself, she needed
steady help, and hadn’t been able to find any. Martha said that Kate was too
proud to ask for much, and she had alluded to some trouble brewing with one of
the other ranchers in the area, but nothing specific.
The woman he met in Fallis today
was obviously strong and independent, not something he generally preferred in
women, but it seemed to suit her. He sensed a strong undercurrent of emotion
that was just below the surface, something she kept a tight rein on. After she
had returned from her meeting with Johnson, she had grown hard and cold. Was
Matt Johnson the man causing trouble?
Tossing the Bible onto the bed
with his other books, he vowed to see this woman and her wonderful family
safely through the fall market before he would leave
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
John O'Riley
Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
Stephen Lloyd Jones
Karl Iagnemma
Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham