Chapter Seven #2
Henry shifted beside her and Ruth glanced toward him. But his expression remained unreadable. Yet, she could not help but notice the way his fingers tightened around the brim of his hat.
“This family has known sorrow.” The words settled heavily in the room. Pastor Luke drew a slow breath. “And because of that sorrow, I pray this home will also know healing.”
A lump formed in Ruth’s throat.
“I pray there will be laughter here again,” Pastor Luke continued as his gaze moved to Lola. “I pray there will be peace.” His eyes moved to Henry. “I pray there will be forgiveness.” Finally, his eyes rested on Ruth. “And I pray there will be courage enough to trust God with the future.”
The words struck her so sharply she nearly looked away. If only he knew how much courage she needed.
Pastor Luke smiled warmly. “Now, then.” The solemnity eased. “I suspect neither of you came here for a sermon.”
Henry muttered under his breath as the pastor opened the Bible again.
“Let’s proceed.”
As the ceremony continued, Ruth listened more carefully and each promise felt heavier than the last. To honor. To cherish. To remain faithful.
They were words spoken every day in churches across the country. Yet standing there beneath the lamplight, she became painfully aware that these were not merely ceremonial phrases. They were promises. Sacred ones.
When her turn came to speak, her voice nearly failed her.
Because for the first time since arriving in Weatherford, Ruth realized she wasn’t merely securing a place to stay.
She was stepping into a family and whether she deserved them or not, these people were beginning to place their trust in her.
And she would be strong and, in times of weakness, lean on the Lord, knowing that he would guide them all.
***
The journey back to the ranch felt very different from the journey into town.
Darkness had settled fully across the countryside by the time they left Pastor Luke’s cottage.
The stars shone brilliantly overhead, scattered across the vast Texas sky like handfuls of diamonds.
A crescent moon hung low above the horizon, casting pale silver light across the open prairie.
Ordinarily, Ruth might have found the sight beautiful. Tonight, she was too overwhelmed to appreciate it.
The wagon wheels rolled steadily over the dirt road while the horses moved through the darkness with practiced confidence. Crickets sang from the roadside grasses, and somewhere in the distance a coyote called into the night. No one spoke much.
James and his wife had remained behind in town. Pastor Luke had offered his congratulations. Now, only Ruth, Henry, and Lola occupied the wagon and the silence between them seemed to stretch endlessly.
Ruth sat beside Henry on the narrow bench seat. She was acutely aware of his presence, though he kept his attention fixed firmly on the road ahead. The lantern hanging from the wagon cast a warm glow across his profile, illuminating the strong line of his jaw and the tired shadows beneath his eyes.
He looked every bit as uncomfortable as she felt.
That should have been reassuring. Instead, it merely emphasized the strangeness of the situation.
Only this morning, she had arrived in Weatherford as a stranger.
By evening, she had become Mrs. Henry Foster.
Or rather, she had become Mrs. Nora Smith Foster.
The thought sent a familiar stab of guilt through her chest and her fingers tightened around the folds of her skirt.
The marriage certificate, which they would have to get tomorrow, would bear another woman’s name.
The vows she had spoken had been spoken beneath a false identity.
Even if her reasons had been born from desperation, the deception remained.
The weight of it seemed heavier now than it had in the pastor’s parlor.
Beside her, Henry shifted and adjusted the reins. Neither of them attempted conversation. After all, what was there to say?
Eventually, the outline of the ranch appeared against the darkness. The house stood quietly beneath the moonlight. The barn and corrals cast long shadows across the yard. Somewhere nearby, a horse nickered softly as the wagon approached. Ruth released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Home—the word felt dangerous, because this wasn’t truly her home. Not yet, perhaps not ever. Yet, for the first time in many days, she would sleep beneath a roof without fearing Gideon Walker’s arrival. For that alone, she offered a silent prayer of thanks.
Inside the kitchen, the atmosphere remained oddly formal. There was no celebration, no wedding supper or showering of good wishes. The day had simply been too unexpected for such things.
“You can use the spare room,” Henry said. “It’s down the hall, last door on the left.”
Ruth nodded. “Thank you.”
He gave a brief nod in return before he disappeared down the hallway. Lola followed moments after, leaving Ruth alone.
The quiet house creaked softly around her. Somewhere, a grandfather clock ticked steadily. Outside, the windmill groaned in the breeze and an owl hooted from the top of a tree.
She looked around the room once more before taking the lamp Henry had left for her and made her way down the hallway.
The spare room proved small but comfortable.
A narrow iron bed stood against one wall.
A washstand occupied a corner beside the window.
A braided rug covered part of the floor and a patchwork quilt lay neatly folded across the mattress.
The room was simple, yet to Ruth, it seemed luxurious.
The mattress alone looked softer than the one she’d left behind in Devil’s Hollow.
She set her carpet bag on the chair and slowly removed her few belongings.
Carefully, she placed her Bible on the bedside table before she changed into her nightdress and prepared for bed.
Sleep, however, refused to come. She lay awake listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the ranch. The distant rustling of trees and the occasional creak of settling wood. The faint lowing of cattle from the pasture. Every time she closed her eyes, new worries surfaced.
What if someone discovered the truth? What if Nora changed her mind and returned? What if Henry learned she wasn’t who she claimed to be?
Most troubling of all was, what if she failed? She had promised she could help to bring order to the ranch. Yet, she had been here less than a day. For all she knew, she had overestimated her abilities entirely. Still, she had to believe that the Lord had set her on this path for a reason.
Have faith, Ruth, she told herself. “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”
***
The next morning, when Ruth opened her eyes, darkness still lingered outside the window and the ranch house remained quiet. It was just before dawn and soon the roosters would be singing everyone awake.
For a few moments, she simply lay there listening before she slipped from beneath the quilt. The floorboards felt cool beneath her bare feet. Lighting the lamp, she settled into the chair beside the window and reached for her Bible.
The familiar pages rustled softly as she opened it and peace gradually settled over her as she read. Not because her problems had disappeared, they most certainly had not, but because Scripture reminded her that she was not facing them alone.
“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding,” she read wordlessly. “In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”
A faint sound interrupted her thoughts and Ruth looked up. The bedroom door stood partially open and a little face appeared in the gap. “Good morning,” Ruth said, smiling gently.
Lola stared at her. Ruth carefully closed her Bible. “Couldn’t you sleep?”
The little girl remained silent as her dark eyes moved from Ruth to the Bible resting in her lap and then back again. “My mother used to read stories to me from the Bible,” she said.
“Did she?” Ruth asked.
“Sometimes more than one. If I asked nicely.”
Ruth smiled. “Would you like me to read one?”
“No.” The answer came firmly and without hesitation.
Ruth’s smile faltered. “Oh.”
Lola shifted awkwardly and for a brief moment she looked younger than six. Then, she straightened. “You wouldn’t do it right.”
“I could try,” Ruth suggested.
Lola said nothing as the first hints of dawn began to lighten the sky beyond the window.
Birdsong drifted faintly through the darkness.
Finally, Lola took a step backward, then another.
Without another word, she disappeared down the hallway.
A few seconds later, Ruth heard the back door open and close.
Ruth looked down at the Bible resting in her lap as her fingers brushed the worn leather cover. The encounter had lasted less than two minutes. Yet it left her strangely discouraged.
She understood the child’s hesitation. Perhaps she would have reacted similarly under the circumstances.
Lola had lost her parents and now a stranger had appeared overnight claiming a place in her home. Trust would not come easily. Still, if she could not reach Lola, what purpose did she truly serve here?
No, she thought. I will not give up. This was the first day of the rest of her life and she planned to make it a success. Starting with breakfast.