Love takes wing (Love Comes Softly #7) (3 page)

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now completed two years of training toward becoming a doctor. Luke had mentioned Jackson's name several times when he talked about the town needing another medical doctor. Belinda hardly knew her own mind on the issue. She did hope fervently that Jackson had not decided on a career in medicine simply because of her own interest in nursing. But she couldn't help but wonder.

When Jackson first left their area, he had written Belinda often. Belinda enjoyed the newsy letters telling of his new experiences, the long recitals of what he was learning in his classes and from the library textbooks. But soon the letters started to become more personal than Belinda was comfortable with. She thought Jackson seemed to be taking too much for granted. As difficult as it had been for her, she wrote Jackson, telling him she felt they were unwise to keep up the distant relationship. Jackson had written back a very kind and understanding letter. Still, Belinda had some misgivings. Jackson's words had implied quite clearly that this was "for now"

"How much longer does Jackson have?" Marty was asking. Belinda's attention moved back to her mother.

"Ah . .. ah," she stammered and then got her thoughts back in order. "Luke says he will be ready in two years, I think," she responded.

"Can Luke wait thet long?"

"He might have no choice. It's hard to find doctors willin' to work in small towns."

"Has he talked to Jackson?"

Belinda thought about that one. She wasn't sure, though one night she had heard Abbie urging Luke to get in touch with the young man before someone else spoke to him.

"I don't know," she said, "but I think he may have."

"I hope so. Fer Luke's sake. An' fer the sake of Abbie and the boys. Luke doesn't see nearly enough of 'em."

"Thet's what worries Luke," Belinda said thoughtfully. "He

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doesn't seem to tire like I do, but he does dislike being' so busy. He enjoys the boys so much and says they are growing up far too fast. He'd like more time to do father-son things. Take them fishin' and play ball and such."

Belinda rose slowly from the table, reluctant to break off the visit with her mother but anxious to see Melissa--and Amy Jo, too. Though not too far from each other, they seemed to have few chances to really talk anymore.

"I'd better go," she told her mother. "The girls will think I've gone and died in my bed."

Marty smiled and rose to return to her churn.

"I'll be back to help ya with dinner," Belinda promised.

"No need," said Marty, "I've got it all ready to jest put on the stove. You go ahead and enjoy your visit. The days will go fast enough."

Belinda knew that was true. She stacked her dishes on a corner of the cupboard and left the house.

The morning sunshine felt warm and welcome on her hair. She turned her face to it and breathed in deeply of the spring air. Above her, birds twittered and frolicked, looking like they, too, were thankful to be alive. It was nest-building time.

Belinda found Melissa and Amy Jo on the lawn swing sipping lemonade and chatting intently. Both girls called to her and motioned her over to join them.

"Yer lookin' better," said the frank Amy Jo. "Ya looked awful last night."

Belinda smiled.

"Not awful," corrected the more tactful Melissa, "but awfully tired."

"Thet's what I said," Amy Jo hastened to assure her. "Awful!" The three laughed.

"So are ya caught up on all the news?" Belinda asked Melissa. "Oh my, no," Melissa countered. "That will take much longer

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than we've had. I doubt we'll get it all said in the next two weeks."

At the mention of "two weeks:' Amy Jo's face fell and she quickly said, "Don't talk about it. I don't want to even think about Melissa leaving again."

"I do," said Melissa evenly. "I haven't seen Mother or Father for almost three years."

Amy Jo immediately turned sympathetic. "Have ya missed them terribly?"

"I've missed them. Sometimes a lot. Other times not so much. But I've missed them. And Nathan and Joe and Julia." Melissa's face became very thoughtful. "I've even missed the ranch hands and my horses," she admitted.

"If I left home, I don't think I could stand it," said Amy Jo, shaking her head. "I'd miss everyone so much."

Melissa nodded. "I'm glad I came," she informed the two girls. "Really glad I came. But I will be glad to get home again, too."

"I'm glad ya came, too," said Belinda softly. "It would have been a shame not to get to know ya."

"It would have been jest awful," wailed Amy Jo. "Jest awful!" "Even more awful than I looked last night?" teased Belinda, and they chuckled again.

"I think it's good to see more of the world than your own little nook," Melissa said. "I love the West, but I'm glad I dared to leave home for a time and get to know a bit more about our country. One can get so . . . so . . . ingrown."

Ingrown,
thought Belinda.
Guess that's what's happening to me. I know nothing about the world except these few miles around where I was born and live. Nothing!

"An' ya never would have met Jackson!" squealed Amy Jo, and the girls laughed merrily.

"Jackson," Melissa chuckled. "You know, there was a time

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when I thought that life just wouldn't be worth living without Jackson."

"Is it?" wailed Amy Jo in mock surprise.

Melissa laughed again. "Well," she said, her large brown eyes rolling heavenward, "if I learned nothing else at normal school, I did learn this. There are lots of young men out there. And some of them--a few of them--are even as exciting as Jackson."

"No-o-o!" groaned Amy Jo.

"On my honor," said Melissa in mock seriousness, raising her right hand.

From there the talk went on to Melissa's year at the school and the school parties and church functions that she'd attended and the escorts she'd had for such occasions.

Amy Jo clasped her hands together, moaning openly at the very idea of being a popular young lady in such a circumstance. Belinda listened quietly, though she did have a few questions of her own she wished to ask Melissa. She wasn't sure if she would enjoy so many beaus or not, but it was interesting to think about it. One thing for sure was that she was no longer concerned about Melissa being heartbroken ifJackson should choose someone else.

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THREE

A Neighborhood Party

A party in Melissa's honor was being planned. It was really Amy Jo's idea, but Marty saw it as an opportunity for the youth of the community to get together for a fun fellowship time and heartily endorsed it. Belinda, who usually wasn't too keen on parties, found herself looking forward to the Saturday evening event.

The guest list included past school friends and young people of the local church. The invitations went out, and Amy Jo was very worried about how many would be able to come on such short notice. "What if nobody comes," she was constantly
wailing
till she nearly drove everyone to distraction.

But on the evening of the party, the teams and saddle horses began to arrive shortly after seven, and the Davis farmyard soon was filled with tethered animals and various kinds of horse-drawn vehicles. It had been some time since so many of the girls' schoolmates had been together, and there were lots of excited greetings and laughter as the group gathered in the large backyard.

The festivities began in the nearby pasture with a game of softball, the fellows playing and the girls wildly cheering them on. Then a few girls joined the game, Amy Jo one of them. She was used to playing most of the games that her younger brothers played and saw no reason to be left out. She coaxed Melissa and Belinda to play, but Belinda declined. She had never cared much

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for sports of any kind and did not want to embarrass herself by showing her lack of ability

Melissa hesitantly joined the game. Her sports skills were no greater than Belinda's, but she was going to make the most of her lack of expertise. Joe Parker coached her running. Tom Rankin helped her to cover third base, though his spot was really shortstop, and Sly Foster showed her how to hold and swing the bat. Melissa looked as if she was actually enjoying the game of softball.

The game continued until almost sundown. When it became too dark to see the ball, the group switched to other running games. Belinda excused herself, saying that she would prepare the fire for the corn roast to follow.

She was laying the kindling wood in the open brick pit Clark had built in the backyard for just such occasions when a voice spoke to her from the soft twilight. "May I help?"

It was Rand O'Connel, a young man Belinda hadn't seen since school days. Belinda thanked him and moved aside so that Rand could take over the task.

"Hear you've been nursin'," he commented as he carefully placed the wood.

Belinda nodded her head and then realized that in the near- darkness a question should be answered aloud. "Yes," she said. "Helpin' my brother Luke."

"Do ya like it?" he questioned further.

"Oh yes. Least most of the time. Sometimes it can get a bit hectic."

"Pa says yer good at it," went on Rand, and Belinda puzzled for a moment and then remembered that Mr. O'Connel had been in to have stitches because of an axe cut on his foot.

"How is yer pa's foot doin'?" she asked.

"Fine now. Doesn't even limp."

"That's due to Luke--not me," said Belinda.

"Pa knows thet. But he also said ya took his mind off the pain,

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knew what to do until Luke got there and how to help Luke when he did the sewin' up."

Belinda felt herself flushing at the praise and dropped her eyes. "Do ya farm with yer pa?" she asked to cover her embarrassment.

"I haven't seen ya around since . . . since grade school!" "Jest got back. Been helpin' my uncle down state."

"Oh."

"He has him a dairy farm and needed a hired hand."

"Are ya goin' back?" asked Belinda to keep the conversation from dying.

"Nope. Not to milkin'," he said simply.

"So, what do ya plan to do now?" asked Belinda.

Rand lit a match to the kindling and watched as the small flame began to lick at the fine wood splinters. Around them the darkness was closing in. The shrieks and calls of the players filled the air all about them, making the evening feel friendly and warm.

"Fer now, I plan to jest look around here fer a job," responded Rand, his eyes still on the growing fire.

"What kind of job?" Belinda asked.

"Can't be choosy," he acknowledged. "Take whatever I can git. Heard of anything?"

"No-o. Not that I recall. But it shouldn't be hard to find something. Yer big--an' strong. Should be lots of work--"

And then Belinda realized what she had just said about him and stopped in embarrassment. Rand said nothing. She wondered if he had even heard her foolishness. Much to her relief, he seemed totally taken with tending the fire.

The firelight was casting dancing shadows over his features. She had forgotten what he looked like. She had forgotten most everything about Rand O'Connel. Not that she had ever really noticed him much in the past. He had been just a boy--a fellow student at their small school, neither stupid nor brainy, loud nor

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shy. He had just been there. By the light of the fire, she took a good look at him now.

His dark hair fell boyishly over his forehead, and he unconsciously brushed it back with a work-toughened hand. The hair at the nape of his neck curled over his shirt collar, and Belinda realized that if the rest of it hadn't been cut short, it would probably curl over his whole head. His eyes were deep set and fringed with dark lashes. His nose had the slightest hump, suggesting that it might have been injured at some time. There was a small indentation in his cheek that looked almost like a dimple--though, looking at the young man, Belinda dared to think he'd not take kindly to anyone calling it such.

He must have felt her eyes upon him, for he turned to look at her. Belinda shifted her gaze quickly away and pretended to be busy brushing the wood chips from her long skirt.

"I hear Melissa's been away at school an' is a full-fledged teacher now," he said after a brief silence that hung awkwardly between them.

Belinda, glad for something to break the spell, answered in a rush, "Yes, thet's right. She loved normal school--but she's glad to be home, too."

"Is she stayin'? Here, I mean? I thought her home--"

"Oh, it is. I mean, she's jest here for a brief spell. Two weeks in fact--and part of thet's already gone. Then she's going home. To her real home. I've jest gotten used to thinkin' of this as her home. I mean . . . this seems like home for her . . . to me. She was with us for more'n two years and then back for visits an' . . . I really will miss her," she finally finished lamely.

Rand just nodded his head. He seemed to have been able to follow her rambling.

"She excited about teachin'?" he asked.

"Oh yes. She's always wanted to be a teacher. And they need lots of teachers in the West, too."