like Paul says a man’s to do in Ephesians. I’d die for her if I had to. I don’t own much, but whatever I got will be hers. She won’t ever go without, Reverend Silverton. Not as long as I got a breath in me. I swear it.”
Nathaniel smiled. “Swearing isn’t necessary. I believe you.” There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Your proposal doesn’t come as a surprise. I believe your intended has been dropping hints all week long. And if she is willing, I will not withhold my blessing.”
“You do?” Rand hopped up from the sofa. “I can? I mean, you will?” He let out a whoop, unable to stop himself.
The reverend laughed aloud as the women of the house rushed into the parlor. He looked at Ingrid who watched, wide-eyed, from the doorway. “You’d better tell her, Mr. Howard. She looks a little frightened.”
Rand crossed the room in a few strides and took hold of his betrothed’s hands. “The reverend said yes. We’re gettin’ married, just as soon as I got us a house fit to live in. God willin’, that’ll be soon.”
FIFTEEN
Bethany paced from the parlor to the dining room, from the dining room to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the parlor again. She stopped at the window and looked at the town. The sun hung low in the sky. Soon it would dip behind the mountains. Hawk’s mountains. The mountains where Rand was building a home for Ingrid. She sighed.
She was happy for Ingrid. Really and truly. She thought it wonderful that her friend had found love and would be married. But she also felt sorry for herself. Envy was not an attractive trait. God called it sin: A sound heart is the life of the flesh: but envy the rottenness of the bones.
Again she exhaled.
She hadn’t seen Hawk since she ran into him — almost literally — at the mercantile the previous week. He hadn’t come to services on Sunday nor had he been back to help with work on the church building.
Why are you staying away?
She flopped onto the settee and picked up the novel she’d been reading. The pages might as well have been blank. Her thoughts returned to Hawk.
What was she to do about him? She loved him, she was sure, but if he didn’t come to town more than once a week, how could she make him love her in return?
She remembered his embrace in the barn at the Circle Blue, and her face flushed. He wouldn’t have kissed her like that if he didn’t care for her.
She tossed the book aside and walked once more to the window. A few lights had begun to appear as evening settled over the town. The sky was darker now. Black clouds, heavy with rain, had arrived with the coming of night. Thunder rolled in the distance.
When would her parents and Ingrid return? They’d gone to pay a pastoral visit on the Mackeys, whose farm was a good distance to the south of Sweetwater. The elderly Mrs. Mackey — Martha Eberlie’s maternal grandmother — was ill and thought to be dying. Bethany’s father had said it might be very late before they returned home. It could be later still if a storm caught them.
Perhaps she should have gone with them. She’d claimed a headache, but the truth was she’d expected Martha and her widowed father to be at the Mackey farm as well. She wasn’t feeling charitable toward either one of them at present. They’d been hateful toward Hawk, and she couldn’t find it in herself to forgive them yet.
“Oh, Mr. Chandler.” She leaned her forehead against the cool pane of glass. “Why do you make me feel this way?”
Her shoulders drooped as she turned from the window and lit a lamp. Then, holding it before her, she climbed the stairs.
Her bedroom window was open, and a breeze brought with it the smell of rain. She set the lamp on the table next to her bed and crossed to the window to close it. After drawing the drapes, she shed her dress and undergarments and put on her nightgown. Then she sat on the edge of her bed, loosened her hair, and began brushing it.
And all the while, the same thought repeated in
Nathaniel smiled. “Swearing isn’t necessary. I believe you.” There was a twinkle in his eyes. “Your proposal doesn’t come as a surprise. I believe your intended has been dropping hints all week long. And if she is willing, I will not withhold my blessing.”
“You do?” Rand hopped up from the sofa. “I can? I mean, you will?” He let out a whoop, unable to stop himself.
The reverend laughed aloud as the women of the house rushed into the parlor. He looked at Ingrid who watched, wide-eyed, from the doorway. “You’d better tell her, Mr. Howard. She looks a little frightened.”
Rand crossed the room in a few strides and took hold of his betrothed’s hands. “The reverend said yes. We’re gettin’ married, just as soon as I got us a house fit to live in. God willin’, that’ll be soon.”
FIFTEEN
Bethany paced from the parlor to the dining room, from the dining room to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the parlor again. She stopped at the window and looked at the town. The sun hung low in the sky. Soon it would dip behind the mountains. Hawk’s mountains. The mountains where Rand was building a home for Ingrid. She sighed.
She was happy for Ingrid. Really and truly. She thought it wonderful that her friend had found love and would be married. But she also felt sorry for herself. Envy was not an attractive trait. God called it sin: A sound heart is the life of the flesh: but envy the rottenness of the bones.
Again she exhaled.
She hadn’t seen Hawk since she ran into him — almost literally — at the mercantile the previous week. He hadn’t come to services on Sunday nor had he been back to help with work on the church building.
Why are you staying away?
She flopped onto the settee and picked up the novel she’d been reading. The pages might as well have been blank. Her thoughts returned to Hawk.
What was she to do about him? She loved him, she was sure, but if he didn’t come to town more than once a week, how could she make him love her in return?
She remembered his embrace in the barn at the Circle Blue, and her face flushed. He wouldn’t have kissed her like that if he didn’t care for her.
She tossed the book aside and walked once more to the window. A few lights had begun to appear as evening settled over the town. The sky was darker now. Black clouds, heavy with rain, had arrived with the coming of night. Thunder rolled in the distance.
When would her parents and Ingrid return? They’d gone to pay a pastoral visit on the Mackeys, whose farm was a good distance to the south of Sweetwater. The elderly Mrs. Mackey — Martha Eberlie’s maternal grandmother — was ill and thought to be dying. Bethany’s father had said it might be very late before they returned home. It could be later still if a storm caught them.
Perhaps she should have gone with them. She’d claimed a headache, but the truth was she’d expected Martha and her widowed father to be at the Mackey farm as well. She wasn’t feeling charitable toward either one of them at present. They’d been hateful toward Hawk, and she couldn’t find it in herself to forgive them yet.
“Oh, Mr. Chandler.” She leaned her forehead against the cool pane of glass. “Why do you make me feel this way?”
Her shoulders drooped as she turned from the window and lit a lamp. Then, holding it before her, she climbed the stairs.
Her bedroom window was open, and a breeze brought with it the smell of rain. She set the lamp on the table next to her bed and crossed to the window to close it. After drawing the drapes, she shed her dress and undergarments and put on her nightgown. Then she sat on the edge of her bed, loosened her hair, and began brushing it.
And all the while, the same thought repeated in
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