Molly Noble Bull (19 page)

Jeth glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. “We’re going to start building the kite today, but Timmy probably won’t be able to fly it until springtime. Now, isn’t this the best set of plans you’ve ever seen for a kite?”

“Oh, yes,” Honor said. “That drawing is special. Anyone can see that. I’m glad you boys chose that one instead of one of the others in the book.”

Smiling, Honor sat down at the table and drank her chocolate. She didn’t intend to say much. She didn’t need to. Honor enjoyed just being there, watching the two of them have fun together on a snowy December day.

Jeth was going to make a wonderful father. She tried not to wonder who the mother of his children might be.

Lucas lay on the floor of his rented room. Some sound had wakened him. He yawned. What time was it? He
glanced toward the east window. The window and wooden shutters were partly open. Snowflakes plugged the spaces between the slats, and more snow poured in from outside. He would get up and close the window when he found the desire to do it, not before.

A loud rap sounded at the door. Why couldn’t people just leave him alone?

Lucas got up slowly, wobbled to the door and opened it. Regina stood on the landing outside, holding his jacket. Obviously, she’d washed it.

“Well.” His sister sent him a smile he had not expected. “Aren’t you going to invite me in? It’s cold out here.”

“Shore, come on in.”

Lucas wasn’t surprised to find snow on the ground, but he hadn’t expected to see so much. Of course, he had no memory of anything that had taken place after he left the Starlings’.

Regina stood just inside his rented room, looking slightly bewildered.

“Let me warn you, Regina,” he said, nodding toward his untidy room, “I ran out of wood for the stove.”

“I’ll keep my cape on.”

Regina put his jacket on a hook. He closed the door, then shoved his dirty clothes from the chair and motioned for his sister to take a seat. When she did, he settled at the foot of his unmade bed.

She eyed the empty whiskey bottles. “Are you drunk, Lawrence?”

“Let’s say I’m hung on the clothesline to dry.”

“Then dry up. I have a lot I want to say.”

“If you’re trying to get me to stop drinking, save yourself the trouble. I ain’t never gonna quit. I like drinking.”

The pain that he saw in her eyes made him feel guilty. He glanced away.

“You know, Lawrence, there are some things we just shouldn’t do, even if we enjoy doing them.” She cleared her throat. “For example, remember how I always broke out in a rash when I ate strawberries?”

Lucas nodded.

“You might not know this, but I dearly love strawberries, especially when I dip them in honey. Nothing tastes better. But I can’t eat strawberries because they make me sick. I break out. And your drinking makes you sick. That’s why you shouldn’t drink, no matter how good liquor might taste to you.”

“Strawberries and alcohol ain’t the same.”

“No, but they affect some people in the same way.”

Since he had no interest in hearing more on the subject, Lucas studied his bare feet. His toes felt like ice. He reached for a pair of dirty socks beside him on the bed and put them on.

It was time to look his sister square in the eye and try to change the subject. Either that or throw her out in the snow.

“How’s Sammy doing?” he asked.

“Very well, thank you. God is good.”

“Then why am I a drunk? I tried to stop, really tried. Even went to church once here in Pine Falls. I wanted to be a good person like the rest of my family. But it ain’t working. Nothing ever does.”

“You can’t change yourself. Nobody can. You must become a Christian first. Let the Lord take care of your drinking habit.”

“Well, with you and all them other good folks around, God don’t need my name written down in that book of His.”

Even as he said the words he regretted them. These past weeks, especially, he’d felt a nagging desire to belong in such a book. But he couldn’t tell his sister that. She might think he was just making excuses for what he’d done to Honor and Harriet. Regina couldn’t know that he’d hurt Ruby, too.

“You must mean the Lamb’s Book of Life.” She hesitated. “God loves you, Lawrence. He really does, and He wants your name written in His book. People whose names are written in God’s book will go to heaven when they die.”

“Then what must I do to get my name in that book you mentioned?”

“Repent! That’s the first step.”

“Repent? You mean, admit I done wrong?”

“Yes.”

Was Regina out of her mind? Nobody would willingly admit to all the things Lucas had done.

She got down on her knees in front of her chair and motioned for Lucas to join her. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t. He didn’t know how to be the kind of man everybody had always wanted him to be. Besides, it was too late—for him.

She closed her eyes, and her lips began to move. He knew she was praying. For the first time in years, he wanted to pray, too. If he knelt beside her, would she know
he was there? And if it didn’t work out, would she also know that?

Careful not to make a sound, he got down on his knees beside his sister and shut his eyes. But nothing happened. Now what? His mind went blank. Being on his knees didn’t seem right. He wasn’t worthy. He might as well face the fact that he could never be good enough. He started to rise.

“Get back down, Lawrence,” she said.

He’d been so quiet. And she hadn’t opened her eyes once. How had she known?

“We can pray together,” she added.

“I—I can’t, Regina. I don’t know how to pray.”

“Just repeat what I say.”

Slowly, he got back down on his knees. He folded his hands and shut his eyes.

“Heavenly Father,”
she prayed aloud.
“I have not followed Your commandments or walked in Your ways, and I am truly sorry—”

“Wait!” Lucas looked over at Regina and touched her wrist. “I’ll never be able to remember all that.”

“Say it in your own words, then. The Lord will like that better anyway.”

Lucas nodded—more to himself than to Regina.

“Heavenly Father, I ain’t never followed Your commandments or done much of anything right. Anyways, I shore am sorry. I’d be much obliged if You would forgive my sins and come into my heart and life right about now. Regina and Reverend Kline said You would come if I asked Ya to. Well, I reckon I’m asking.
And I’m asking in the name of that son of Yours, Jesus. Like I used to hear Mama do. Amen.”

Lucas remained on his knees for a long time. He wasn’t exactly praying because he didn’t know what else to say, but he wanted God to know he was available for service now. Alternately, he felt shy and ashamed, and then full of joy.

All at once, Lucas felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was sure he must be ten pounds lighter. When tears moistened his eyes, he knew with certainty that he was in the presence of God. It was the first time in his life that he felt truly clean.

Reverend Kline had said that God saved a person as soon as that person requested salvation, but Lucas had spent a lot of years wrecking his life and the lives of others. Lucas would stay on his knees until he sensed that God had entered his name in the Lamb’s Book of Life.

At last, he rose. A new sense of purpose and a well-spring of love that he planned to share with others filled his heart.

“I need to tell the Klines what I done,” he finally said to Regina. “Let them know I repented and all. I also have to tell ’em I’m leaving Pine Falls.”

“Leaving?”

He nodded. “I’ve got debts to pay and a ranch to run, and there’s a woman I gotta see by the name of Ruby. I plan to marry her—if she’ll have me.” He gazed at his sister, searching for the right words. “And Regina, there’s something I want you to do for me.”

“What’s that?”

Lucas went to the chest and opened the top drawer. He pulled out the pearl necklace and handed it to his sister. “I’d be obliged if ya would give these here pearls to Honor. They belonged to her aunt and to her grandmother before that. I think she should have them.”

“Oh, Lawrence, I think so, too. I really do. And I know she’ll be so grateful when I give them to her.”

Lucas didn’t know what else to say, but a new emotion swept over him. He smiled, wondering: Is this what folks call happiness?

Ten days before Christmas, rain and a cold wind swooped down from the north. Before getting out of bed that morning, Honor heard the patter of rain hitting the tin roof, then the sounds disappeared as the downpour turned into softly falling snow.

She snuggled under her covers, protected from the frosty air in her bedroom. The fire in the woodstove had died during the night. With her head on the feather pillow, Honor watched her breath puff out like smoke, curling, then slowly fading away. Needing to start her day, she gathered her courage, threw back the covers and got up.

Shivering, she stoked the black cast-iron stove and put in fresh firewood. In the dim light, she dressed quickly. Then she stood at her window, looking out at the golden sunrise, and at a white, fairy-tale world of incredible beauty.

A thick layer of snow covered the ground and the driveway in front of the boardinghouse. Trees glistened like silver. Soon, children in brightly colored caps and neck
scarves would be coasting down the hill beyond the road on wooden sleds with metal rims. When the water hardened, no doubt they would be skating on the frozen pond.

Honor was reluctant to leave her spot by the window, and by the time she went downstairs to the kitchen, Belinda was already there, rolling out biscuit dough.

“Are we ever going to have a Christmas tree?” Belinda teased. “The guests keep asking, especially Mrs. Clark and Mrs. Davis.”

“Did Mrs. Peters put up a tree every year?” Honor asked.

“Always.”

“Then I guess we should put up one, too.” Honor grabbed the skillet from a hook hanging from the ceiling and reached for the bacon. “Belinda, would you like to go out later and look for a Christmas tree? Just the two of us? Might be fun.”

“Why not get our pastor to help you find a tree?” Belinda suggested. “With all this cold weather, he probably won’t venture out on church duties today. He should have time to help in your search.”

“Belinda Grant, are you matchmaking again?”

“Me?” Belinda feigned innocence, pressed her hand to her chest and fluttered her eyelashes. “How could you accuse me of such a thing? So, are you going to ask our minister or not?”

Honor shrugged, pretending she had no idea what Belinda was talking about. “Ask him what?”

“To take you out to find a Christmas tree, of course.”

“Oh, that.” Honor hesitated, wondering how to reply. “Well, what if I should ask him and he says no. The reverend’s a busy man, you know.”

Belinda shook her head. “The reverend won’t say no, Miss McCall. Not to you, anyway.”

A
fter breakfast, Honor noticed when Jeth left the formal dining room. Before he reached the door, he looked back at Honor and grinned. “That breakfast you fixed was mighty good. I gotta have another cup of your coffee.”

Honor followed him into the kitchen. “Go sit at the table. I’ll bring your coffee to you.”

“I’m not about to turn down an offer like that, especially from a pretty lady in a blue dress.”

Honor turned her back on him and grimaced, recalling Selma’s green dress and the fiasco that had resulted when she’d worn it. The thought of Jeth’s late wife made Honor wonder again who his future wife might be. Her thoughts settled on only one young woman: Lucy Jordan. Honor bit her lower lip. An instant before, she’d been in a good mood. Now all her good humor had turned sour. How quickly thoughts and emotions could change. Jeth had said that only the Lord could
turn things around again. But for some reason, she didn’t feel like praying.

“Speaking of pretty ladies,” Honor said with a trace of sarcasm, “I won’t be able to teach Miss Jordan’s reading lesson this week, with all the work I have to do here and all.”

“I told Lucy that we would delay the lessons until after Mama gets back,” Jeth said easily, surprising Honor. “You have enough to do without tutoring besides.”

“But I—”

“Need to make more money. I know. You mentioned that. But you’ll still have the extra money you get doing alterations, won’t you? And you’ve already paid me back for that coat. Why, you must have a bundle saved by now. What do you plan to do with all that money?”

“Pay my debts.” She glanced toward the door leading to the hallway. “Now if you will excuse me, I need to check on the mess room.”

But before she could make her escape, Belinda burst into the kitchen from the dining room. “Have you asked the reverend yet?” she queried.

“Asked me what?”

“I wondered if Miss Honor had invited you to escort her to the woods today. We need a suitable Christmas tree for the boardinghouse. Our boarders want one, and so do I.”

“Then of course Miss McCall and I will go out in search of a tree this very morning.” Jeth turned to Honor. “When can you be ready?”

“She can be ready as soon as we finish the breakfast dishes,” Belinda replied. “And she need not be back in time to help with the noon meal. We’re just having leftovers.”

“Then, Miss McCall, I’ll meet you on the back porch, as soon as you’ve finished your chores.”

Honor closed her lips firmly. Comments were unnecessary. She’d been outranked as well as overruled.

When the last dish was dried and put away, Honor saw Jeth through the kitchen window. He was standing on the back porch, with a grin on his face that reminded her of the friendly circus clown who had paraded by the general store in Falling Rock once when she was a child. The clown, with blue hair and a red ball for a nose, had been dressed in a red, white and blue striped suit. He’d given Honor a special wave and smiled, just like Jeth was doing now.

Honor felt silly waving at Jeth for no good reason. She’d just talked to him and served him his breakfast. But when he kept waving and smiling at her, she laughed and waved back.

“Run along now,” Belinda insisted. “If you don’t, the reverend is liable to come in here to get you and track up my clean kitchen floor in the process. And don’t forget your coat, your hat and your hand-warmer. It’s cold outside.”

Honor smiled, pulling her garments from the hook by the back door. She’d learned to love Belinda like an older sister. Still, sometimes she wondered if the feisty widow recalled that it was Honor who was in charge of the boardinghouse until Mrs. Peters returned, not Belinda Grant.

The flooring on the back porch usually creaked when Honor stepped out the kitchen door. That morning, the wooden planks were silent.

“Better be careful.” Jeth offered her his arm. “The porch is wet and icy.”

Ignoring his arm, Honor took another step and slid several inches. “Oh, no!”

Jeth grabbed her. “Easy there.”

She stopped moving, but she still felt unsteady on her feet. Paralyzed with embarrassment and the fear of falling, she glanced up at Jeth. He grinned, looking amused. Seeing the humor in his blue eyes, Honor giggled. Then they were both laughing.

“Let’s go over there and sit down,” Jeth suggested.

“All right.”

He helped her off the porch and down the steps.

Mrs. Peters had built a rock bench for her guests, so they could relax and enjoy the outdoors. The bare branches of plants and trees surrounded it. The shrubs, which had been cut practically to the ground, were covered with a sprinkling of snow and ice. Mrs. Peters had assured Honor that in the spring all those dead plants and trees would come back to life. Mrs. Peters called it a kind of rebirth, a gentle reminder that Jesus died and rose again.

“Sit here and rest a little.” Jeth gestured toward the bench. “Just looking at you, I figure your heart is probably racing faster than a rabbit with a bobcat on its tail.”

Honor went right over, sat down, and then immediately jumped up. She should have looked first. The bench was encased in frost. It was like sitting on a block of ice.

“Sorry, ma’am, I should have known the rock bench would be cold. Are you all right?”

“Of course.”

Even with her coat, Honor was cold almost constantly now. However, she was determined not to complain and decided to change the subject.

“I noticed that you got another letter from your mother. Was she able to locate your uncle?”

“Not yet, but she’s still trying.” He grinned. “I expect her to find Uncle Lawrence any day now.”

Honor wanted to question Jeth about John Crammer, to find out what else he knew. Perhaps she should simply blurt out what was on her mind and take her chances.

“Did you ever hear from John Crammer again?” she finally asked. “The man from Falling Rock who wrote to you?”

His smile faded. “I know who John Crammer is. But I never heard from him after the first letter I got.”

Good, she thought.

Honor looked down at her snow-covered shoes, then back at Jeth. “I’ve been wondering if your cousin had her baby yet.”

“Yes, Margaret had a little girl. Named her for my mother. And Regina Ann Starling weighed six pounds.”

“How’s the baby’s mother doing?”

“Margaret’s doing fine, but she’s exhausted. Three children is a lot to worry about, I guess. She’s trying to talk Mama into staying until after the new year. But Mama said no. Guess she’s had enough of babies and children for a while.”

Honor forced a laugh, but slowly, her laugh became a real one. Jeth had said that laughter was like a medicine. She was beginning to believe it.

“Maybe she misses Dr. Harris,” Honor said.

“That’s possible.”

“When is your mother coming home?”

“She’ll be home by Christmas. But I don’t know exactly when she will get here.”

Honor nodded. At least she’s still coming, she thought.

“Shall we go on and find the tree now?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

As they strolled down the snowy path, Jeth pulled a sled by a rope. He put his free arm around Honor and gave her a quick squeeze.

A pleasant tingle shot through her. Honor glanced at his hand on her shoulder. He shouldn’t be holding her, and she shouldn’t enjoy it. But she did, even knowing that the sweet embraces would only make her leaving that much harder.

“I’m holding on to you so you won’t slip,” he insisted. “You wouldn’t want to take the chance you might fall and hurt yourself, would you?”

“Of course not.”

An icy wind whistled around the corner of the big house, blowing Honor’s long hair in front of her eyes. She pushed back a stray curl and held it in place with one hand.

“What are you thinking, Honor Rose McCall?” he asked.

Surprised that he remembered her middle name, Honor gazed up at Jeth and grinned. “Why did you call me Rose just now?”

“I like your name. Honor Rose sounds good, to me, anyway. And by the way, you’re shivering again.”

“I am not.” Looking down, she realized she was hugging her shoulders. “All right, maybe I am.” She hesitated. “You said once that the Rose of Sharon was mentioned in the Bible. But I was never able to find anything about it. Would you mind explaining that to me now?”

“With pleasure.” He smiled. “Sharon is a place, a beautiful location in the Holy Land where roses were said to grow. In the second chapter of the Song of Solomon, the Scriptures say, ‘I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.’ Jesus has many names in the Bible. Some believe that one of them is the Rose of Sharon. However, others think the passage refers to Israel and the church.”

“That’s interesting,” she said.

“Yes, it is.”

A wooded area just ahead captured Honor’s attention. Jeth followed her gaze.

“What kind of a tree should we be looking for this Christmas?” he asked.

“Frankly, I like pines.”

“Then that’s just what we’ll get.” He looked away for an instant. “My late wife liked pine trees, too. In fact, in many ways you and Selma are much alike.”

“Me? No.” Honor shook her head.

Mrs. Peters had said that her daughter-in-law had been a wonderful Christian. Though Honor thought of herself as a Christian now, she could never meet Selma’s standards. Jeth was merely being kind.

“I remember,” he went on, “one Christmas season especially. Selma and I spent all day looking for a tree
and never did find one she liked. At last I said, ‘Wife, I’m tired of looking. I’m going to cut down the next tree I see.’ And there it was. The prettiest pine I’d ever laid eyes on, and when it was decorated…Well, it looked beautiful.” He hesitated. “You know, Miss McCall, you’ve never told me anything about your life before you came here. Did you and your family go looking for the perfect tree at Christmastime, too?”

Honor stopped. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about my home life. Our house wasn’t a happy place to be.”

“But surely you can tell me something. Did you live in town or out in the country?”

“We lived on a farm. And that’s all I’m going to say.”

“Then I’ll tell you a little more about my life. I grew up right here on this property. The house and grounds belonged to my grandparents. My father also grew up here.”

“You never knew your father, did you?”

He shook his head and kicked a loose rock with the toe of his boot. “My mother said he loved to go fishing. He died in a boating accident soon after I was born.”

Honor considered her options. He’d shared part of his past with her, and she had heard emotion in his voice, stronger than any she’d heard previously. She had the sudden urge to tell Jeth more about her past. She trusted him. But revealing all her secrets might inadvertently unlock a door that would be better left closed.

Jeth reached down, scooped up two handfuls of snow and molded them into a ball. Turning toward the horse pens, he drew back his arm and threw the snowball. It sailed threw the air and hit the wooden fence.
Plop.

He turned back to Honor and looked her in the eye. “For a long time, I’ve had the feeling that your uncle was unkind to you. Was he, Honor? Did Lucas Scythe treat you badly?”

“I told you. We quarreled.”

Honor wanted to be honest with Jeth, to tell him the truth about Lucas, but she would be leaving in a few days. There was no reason to bring up unhappy topics now. She needed to focus on something else. A beautifully shaped pine tree stood just off to their right. It looked about six feet high, and she imagined how it would look when it was decorated with popcorn, candy and paper flowers.

“That’s the one,” she exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?”

“That pine over there.” She pointed to the tree. “It’s perfect and just the Christmas tree I want for the boarding house this year.”

“Okay, if that’s the tree you want, that’s the one we’ll get—But sooner or later, you’re going to tell me what really happened between you and your uncle.”

On Saturday morning, Jeth sat beside Timmy Rivers in the covered wagon. He’d left the boardinghouse right after breakfast and had arrived at the Riverses’ home early.

Timmy was Jeth’s inspiration. Were it not for the boy, Jeth might never have come up with an idea for getting several young men and boys involved in church activities. Now he would find out whether his plan would work.

After a short visit with Timmy’s parents, Jeth had invited the little boy to drive out to the Sharp Ranch with him. They were on the way there now.

Jeth smiled, looking down at Timmy. “You remembered to bring your book on kite-making, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Timmy lifted up the book that he’d gotten for his birthday.

“Good boy. And by the way, you’re going to like Willie Sharp. He’s a little older than you are, but he’s a good boy, too.”

Willie Sharp and his mother had attended services at the church on several occasions, but Jeth hadn’t been able to talk to them. Each time, they’d arrived late and left before the service had ended.

Sheriff Green had asked Jeth to keep an eye on that family for him, to report anything unusual. Since Jeth wanted to visit the family again anyway, stopping by the ranch with Timmy seemed like the perfect solution.

Jeth had a lot to think about, and driving his team of horses always helped him to get things straight in his mind.

He’d wrapped Honor’s engagement ring in white paper and tied it with a pink bow, but he hadn’t put it under the Christmas tree yet. The gift was tucked in the bottom drawer of the desk in his bedroom. Honor wouldn’t find it there.

Honor wasn’t the Christian woman Selma had been, but she appeared to be growing in her knowledge of God and the Bible.

Jeth and Selma had grown up together. They’d been
childhood sweethearts. He’d known everything there was to know about Selma before they married. But Honor’s life before he’d met her was still a mystery.

The few things he did know about Honor were not encouraging. Some might say she could never be a proper minister’s wife. And yet…

Timmy shifted restlessly. Jeth glanced down at the child, who had leaned his head on Jeth’s arm and appeared to be falling asleep. Jeth grinned and looked back at the road.