Chapter 7
Seven
The wet rag hung from Addie’s hand as she studied Nash.
Why did he seem reluctant to explain what he meant?
Not that it was a concern of hers. But something in his tone when he’d said that the prairies offered freedom and a chance to start over, and then his comment about it being easy to forget God’s promises made her wonder about his past. What challenges and trials had he faced?
Yes, his father had died. They’d moved to the ranch he’d mentioned.
And now he had his own place. “I can’t imagine you got your place without encountering a few tests and trials. ”
His smile crinkled the edges of his eyes. “It’s taken hard work and perseverance.”
“Of course.” She’d hoped for more detail. “No setbacks?”
The smile fled. “I’ve had some for certain.”
“But you never wanted to give up?” Why did she press him? Because, she admitted, she wanted to know about this man. What did he consider important? Where had he found his strength, and did he turn to God when he sought encouragement?
“Working hard for my place has been my dream since we began to live on the Jarvis ranch.” He lifted the lid on the coffeepot, swirled the grounds, and dumped them into the slop pail.
“Gib encouraged me. All hard work yields a profit, he’d say.
One time…” Nash paused his story as he poured the fresh coffee grounds into the pot and added water.
“I had found two maverick calves in the bushes. They were unbranded, and no other animals nearby. That means they belong to anyone who finds them, so Gib said they were mine. Two heifers.” He put more wood in the stove and set the pot to boil.
“I pictured them as the beginning of my herd. Gib helped me get my own brand. You can imagine how proud and happy I was when I put it on that pair.”
His crooked smile suggested a slight embarrassment over how pleased he’d been.
To let him know she understood and didn’t think him silly, she patted his forearm.
With a quick nod, he continued. “I wish I could say I started my herd with them, but I didn’t.” His lips flattened into a hard line. “They both died.”
“No! Oh, Nash, how disappointing.” Her fingers tightened on his arm.
He covered her hand with his. “Thanks. It was a bitter blow. When I found them both dead, I got very angry. I couldn’t even tell how they’d died. Gib said maybe they’d eaten a poisonous weed, but I searched and never found anything.” His shrug didn’t convince her he no longer cared.
“So what did you do?” Obviously, he hadn’t given up his dream.
“I packed up a saddle horse, told Ma and Gib that I was going into the mountains, and rode away.”
“They didn’t try and stop you?”
“Nope. Guess they figured I needed to sort things out for myself.” The coffee sputtered, and he pulled it aside.
She set out enough cups for everyone, and he filled them. Together, they carried them to the table where the others sat visiting. Mother remained sleeping, sometimes calling out in her sleep.
Addie and Nash took their coffee to the cupboard.
“How long did you stay in the mountains?”
“Two weeks. I made a camp, and every day, I rode around, enjoying the scenery. At first, anger and disappointment raged through me. But a man can’t be in the mountains without being aware of God’s power and majesty. Day by day, other things replaced my anger.”
Outside, something snapped. They held their breath, waiting to learn if it meant another landslide or a falling tree. But the only sound came from the rain battering the roof.
“When did you decide to return?” Addie asked when it seemed he wasn’t going to continue his story.
“One day, I sat on the crest of a hill overlooking a beautiful valley. I sat at a crossroads. I could forget about hard work and find an easy way to get what I wanted.”
The way he quirked his eyebrows made Addie think he’d seriously considered the latter. A little tremor twitched across her shoulders. There were some dreadful ways of taking the easy route. Taking advantage of others, robbing people, holding up trains—
“Even as I thought that, I knew I’d never stoop to doing the things others did.
Hurting others. Robbing others. The easy way held no appeal.
I made a decision as I sat there. I would honor God in my dealings.
If He chose to bless my work, fine. If He let me struggle without achieving what I had my heart set on, I’d accept that too. ”
“Nash, that is such a powerful choice. And He’s blessed you?”
His smile sent silver lights dancing straight into Addie’s heart.
“You know that green valley I told you about?”
“Yes.”
“That’s now mine. That’s where my ranch is.”
“Oh, how wonderful!”
He squeezed her hand. “God is good.”
“All the time,” she said. Nash was a fine man.
Something inside her lifted upward like a flower to the sun.
The flower seeking warmth and life-giving light.
Her heart seeking—she tried to stop the thought from growing—life-giving, heart-healing love.
Where had such an idea come from? But she couldn’t dismiss it. Couldn’t forget it.
Mr. Bertrand’s strident voice drew her attention. He complained to Shorty and Hawk and likely the whole world that a delay like this indicated poor planning.
Hawk leaned back. How he kept his expression and voice so calm, Addie didn’t know.
“If you can do better, you’re welcome to march out there and do it.” Hawk’s words carried a hefty load of doubt.
Mr. Bertrand sputtered, but he didn’t say anything more about it. At least not at the moment.
Shorty told about other stagecoaches that had stopped longer than expected. “But this is only the second time I have had people stay overnight.” His scowl suggested he didn’t enjoy overnight guests.
Mother wakened. “Addie?”
Cup of water in hand, Addie hurried to her and helped her sit enough to drink it. “Would you eat anything?”
Mother lay back. “No thanks, dear.”
Addie lingered at her side. Mother’s forehead remained warm. Her skin was pale and clammy. Addie got cool water and bathed Mother’s face, hands, and neck.
“That feels wonderful,” Mother said. “Thank you. Now I’m ready to rest.” She waved Addie away.
Addie sat back on her heels. At least Mother’s fever had lowered. She’d feel better if she’d sit up and take some nourishment. The trip had really worn her out. But like Nash said, this rest in a dry cabin would do her good.
She looked in Nash’s direction. He watched her, his expression gentle. Thank God Nash had wandered to the coach when he did. Maybe God had sent him not only to help out the travelers but also to—
No. Why would she think God had sent him to encourage her? But her heart had a little crack of hope she would not admit to.
Nash studied his companions. Mr. Bertrand wore a permanent scowl.
What had transpired in that man’s life to leave him so unhappy?
Mr. Zacharius had little to say. Coughing, wheezing, and wiping his brow consumed most of his energy.
Shorty shifted in his chair out of either boredom or an attempt to ease his pain.
Hawk, on the other hand, remained quiet and watchful—no doubt wondering how he would get these people to Golden Valley.
Finally, Nash let his attention settle on Addie, where she sat on the floor beside her mother, who had again drawn the blanket to her chin and curled into a ball.
Addie brought her soft gaze to Nash.
He smiled, offering her—what? He couldn’t explain to himself what he meant. Except he wanted her to know he’d help her in any way she needed. Together, they could face whatever lay before them.
Huh?
Yes, fine, he meant to help her and the others as long as they were holed up here with the rain pounding on the roof and mud bogging the trail. After that? Well, they’d each go their own way.
Shorty slapped the table. The sound reverberated through the cabin, and everyone jerked to alertness. “Enough of this sitting around feeling discouraged. You will be here until you can depart. Make the best of it. Nash!”
Nash stiffened. What had he done to annoy the man? And would it earn him a tongue-lashing?
“You pull that little door open, and you will find a storeroom.”
Nash nodded. “I’ve seen it.”
A scowl scudded across Shorty’s features. Then he waved toward the cupboard. “There are books in there. Would you get some and bring them out? I would go myself, but my leg says no.”
“That’s a good idea.” Nash had wondered what they’d do to pass the long afternoon and evening hours cooped up together. “Addie, do you want to help me?”
She sprang to her feet and rushed to his side. “I’d love to.”
The door squealed as he opened it. They ducked inside and passed other boxes to the crate where they’d discovered the books.
“It still surprises me that Shorty has all these.” Addie blew dust from the top layer. “These titles make me think he might have been a magistrate or a—” She shrugged. “Guess I can’t picture him in England living in a castle.”
“Like many in the West, it appears he’s got a past he wants to escape.”
Her hands idle on the wooden crate, she frowned.
“I never thought of it in those terms. I’ve always thought people heading west into new land were seeking adventure or a more challenging life.
But now I wonder how many are running from something.
” With a puzzled shake of her head, she lifted a book and turned it over.
She had no idea that right before her stood a man determined to forget his past.
“This might interest someone.”
“Yes.” Though he didn’t read the title. “Let’s pick out a few.” Forcing his attention back to the task, he helped select books—three works of fiction, a history book, one on geography, and two travel diaries. “Maybe this will quiet the complaining.”
She drew back, her eyes darkening. “I’m sorry. Am I annoying you?”
“What? No. Addie, I didn’t mean you. Why would you think that?” He blocked the doorway so she couldn’t leave.
“I’m the only one here…besides you.” Each word huffed out.