Song of Her Heart (11 page)

“The Bible says that the person who's been wronged should take the first step toward reconciliation.”

“I know that, and I may do it someday, but why
not let me enjoy the summer without having to deal with that situation?”

“I'm sorry, Norah. I shouldn't have meddled—it's just that all of my life I've wished I had brothers and sisters. So it bothers me that you're estranged from yours, and I think it bothers you, too.”

“Very much so,” Norah agreed, “but I'm not ready to deal with it yet. I told you before, that when I look closely at myself, I don't particularly like what I see.”

Mason put his arm around her shoulders in a brotherly gesture. “On the other hand, when I look at you, I
like
what I see.”

She darted a quick glance in his direction as he continued. “Surely my opinion doesn't surprise you. I wanted to tell you when you said that before, but I thought it was inappropriate to say that on such short acquaintance.”

“Thanks,” Norah said. “I probably will have to make the first overture to heal the breach between us, but the time isn't right yet.”

“Forgive me for meddling?” he asked.

“Of course. I know what I have to do, but I can't do it yet.”

With shoulders touching, they moved in rhythm as the glider slowly moved back and forth. Norah was sensitive to the sound of insects, and the bark
of a coyote in the distance that caused her to shiver. Mason's arm tightened, and he drew Norah closer with his head leaning against hers. It was a time of tranquillity and silence, rather than for speaking, and they talked no more of the matters nearest to their hearts.

S
ince it had been two o'clock before Mason had brought her back to the Bar 8, Norah hadn't expected to see him at all the next day. But she was working in the kitchen about noon when she heard his firm tread coming across the dining room floor. When she turned to greet him, she shrieked, “Mason!”

He'd shaved! The lower half of his face was as pearly-white as a baby's skin, while the upper half was tanned to a leathery brown. His lips were sensitive, yet firm, and his face, broad at the eye level, narrowed to a square jaw. His profile was strong and rigid. His hair, now short and manageable, still showed tinges of gray at the temples. Norah moved close to him and ran a hand over his smooth face.

“Why, Mason, you're a handsome man!”

“I was standing in front of the barbershop in Valentine when the barber arrived this morning. It took over an hour for him to get all that brush off of my face. No more whisker-growing contests for me.” He put his arm around her. “I have lots of work to do, but I wanted to show you the results.”

“I'm glad you did. I've often wondered what you
really
looked like. Want some lunch before you go back to work?”

“No, thanks, I ate a big meal before I left Valentine.” He stepped back into the dining room and returned with a long florist's box, which he handed to Norah.

“Here's a thank-you gift for filling in as my hostess yesterday. I really appreciated it.”

Her blue eyes widened with astonishment, and words seemed to lodge in her throat. She took the box silently, opened it with trembling hands, gasping at the fragrant scent and the beauty of a dozen pink rosebuds. She swallowed hard, stifled a sob and lifted one of the long-stemmed roses to her face.

“They're beautiful,” she said at last. “I don't know what to say.” She lifted his hand and kissed it.

Seeing her reaction, Mason also had trouble retaining his composure. He hadn't shed a tear since
his father's death, but now his throat constricted and, embarrassed, he swiped at his eyes.

Clearing his throat, he said, “It's the least I could do for the way you helped out.”

“It's not a little thing,” she said. “I've lived forty-two years, and this is the first time I've ever been given a bouquet of roses.”

Trying to lighten the tension, Mason said, “I can top that—I've lived forty-five years, and this is the first time I've ever bought anyone a dozen roses.”

Norah placed the box on the table, and laughing gently, she put her arms around Mason's waist, burying her face against his broad chest. His hands drew her closer and she enjoyed the feel of his arms around her. She lifted her face and their lips met in a lingering kiss, amazing Norah at the difference now that he was smooth-shaven.

When she reluctantly withdrew from his embrace, Mason said huskily, “I'd have given you roses long ago if I'd known you'd respond this way.”

He touched her earlobe with his lips, whispering in her ear, “I'll be gone for a few days on a business trip to the eastern part of the state. I'll miss you, Norah.”

“I'll miss you, too, but I'll be here when you come home.”

 

Norah hadn't gotten well acquainted with any of the volunteers who'd come the first four weeks, but
by the time the second group of children came, she and Sheila had their work organized so they both could spend a few hours each day volunteering for the H & H activities.

The second group of children, this time with physical handicaps, required more help in mounting than the first group had needed. Most of the time, Norah used her meager knowledge to help with the tacking up and untacking after each session, but occasionally, she trained as a sidewalker with an experienced volunteer.

She was often thrown into the company of Louis Masters, who'd approached her one day for information about fastening the cinch on a saddle.

Finding this amusing, Norah said, “You're asking a poor teacher,” and explained that until six weeks ago, she'd never ridden a horse. “But I've learned enough to saddle my own horse.”

“Then that's more than I can do,” he said in a well-modulated, kind voice. “I'm an amateur at this, and still training with the more experienced workers.”

She helped him finish saddling the horse, and as he led the animal away to the arena, he said, “I notice you sit on the porch in the evening. Do you mind if I come to talk to you after we've finished our work?”

Norah hesitated. Mason was due back from his business trip soon, and since evenings were the only time they could be together, she kept those times for him. But she couldn't see any other reason to refuse.

“I get up at five o'clock, so I can't stay up late, but you're welcome to come sometimes. It won't take me long to tell you everything I know. Mason King, the man who owns this ranch, is the one to give you pointers on handling horses.”

“I didn't intend to talk about the H & H program. I just thought I'd enjoy your company. Being quite a lot older than most of the volunteers, I don't have much in common with them. I suppose I'm a bit lonely.”

This comment flustered Norah, and she stammered, “Oh! I—I guess that will be all right. When you see me on the porch, you'll know I've finished my work for the day.”

 

Louis Masters turned out to be an interesting conversationalist. A mild-mannered man of medium height, with dark hair and gray eyes framed with dark-rimmed glasses, Louis appeared to be in his late fifties. Norah soon realized that he possessed a great compassion for the children he was helping. And he really caught Norah's attention when he told her that he was a missionary.

“At the present, I'm on furlough from my mis
sion station in Africa,” he said, “and I'll be returning there at the end of the summer.”

“What's the focus of your missionary work?” Norah inquired.

“I have a Master of Divinity degree, and currently I'm assigned to a seminary in the Congo, training native pastors to carry on their work. Modern missionaries don't take leadership roles, as was the custom in the early days of overseas missions. We're there to help and encourage the local leaders in their work. My wife and I have worked in Africa for ten years.”

For some reason, Norah was relieved to find out that Louis was married, until he continued, “My wife became sick with a terminal disease, and six months ago, I brought her back to the States to die. She passed on four months ago, so at the end of the summer, I'll be returning to Africa alone.”

Norah expressed her sympathy to Louis, and after he excused himself and left, Norah rocked back and forth slowly, thoughtful and troubled, until darkness blanketed the ranch. Why hadn't she told Louis she wanted to be a missionary? Right from the beginning, she'd believed God had brought her to the Bar 8 for a purpose. During the past few weeks, she'd started hoping that the reason was twofold—to show her that working with the clients of H & H was
missionary work, and to find a place in her life for Mason.

Had she completely misjudged God's purpose? If she mentioned to Louis that she was interested in the mission field, would he misunderstand her motive? But she must talk to him about her interest in overseas missions. He was the logical person to advise her about training for the work she believed God wanted her to do.

When Louis came the next night, Norah told him about her call to mission work and how it was delayed because of her family's misfortunes.

“With your experience, perhaps you can advise me. I have only a high school education. How much college would I need to qualify for overseas missions? Or is it too late for me to receive a missionary appointment?”

“That will depend on the denomination you approach about serving. Some denominational standards might exclude your appointment, but if God wants you on the mission field, there'll be a way provided for you to serve.”

“I believe that, too, but God hasn't laid that way out for me.”

“Some steps we have to take on faith. All of us would like to see what's around the next bend, but it isn't always revealed to us. God expects us to trust Him for the unknown.”

“I'm praying that by the end of the summer, I'll have a clear vision of which way to go. But even if I don't have complete assurance, perhaps I'll have enough knowledge to make the right decision.”

“I'll join you in praying for direction. I'm sure you have a great contribution to make to overseas missions. And even if you can't receive a full-time appointment, every field is in constant need of short-term volunteers, who come at their own expense and stay six months or more to work on a single project.”

Norah didn't have the financial resources to serve without pay, but she would have it if she sold the house in Springfield. Being a part-time missionary was better than not serving at all. Louis's assurance that she could find a place in God's overseas mission outreach should have brought a song to Norah's heart, but, for some reason, her heart didn't feel like singing.

 

A week passed before Mason returned from his business trip. He stopped at the Flying K only long enough to unload the wagons he'd bought in Omaha before he rushed to the Bar 8. He'd never dreamed he could miss anyone as much as he had Norah. It felt as if he'd left part of himself behind when he'd told her goodbye.

His eagerness to see her suffered a setback when
he parked his pickup in front of the ranch house. Norah sat on the porch, and she had company—a well-groomed, handsome stranger sitting in the rocking chair that Mason usually sat in. The presence of the man upset him.

Norah's slight blush when she introduced Louis made Mason even more uneasy.

Perhaps Louis sensed the tension between Norah and Mason, for he excused himself soon after Mason's arrival and returned to his dormitory room. Mason wanted to demand to know why she was talking to the man, but he knew that reaction would be downright childish. He had no right to monitor Norah's friendships.

“Seems like a nice fellow,” Mason said.

“Yes, I believe so. Here's a laugh! He asked if I could teach him what I know about riding and caring for a horse. I suggested that he talk to you. Maybe you can give him some pointers when you have time.”

“Are you keeping up with your riding?”

“Not very well. In my spare time, I'm volunteering for H & H activities. But I did tell Louis that I'd ride with him tomorrow evening after I finish my work. You've been such a good teacher,” she told him with a smile, “I can pass what you've taught me to Louis.”

“Hot diggety dog!” Mason muttered under his
breath. Norah turned questioning eyes in his direction, but he glanced away.

The more she said, the more upset Mason became, and he stared out over the prairie. Why hadn't he spoken before this man came around? He'd been miserable the few days he'd been away from Norah, and he'd made up his mind that he couldn't let her leave him. But he'd decided to wait until summer was over, and if his affection for Norah kept increasing, he'd ask her to marry him. Had he waited too long? Was she interested in this man? He didn't want her riding with Louis Masters, but he couldn't think of any principled way to discourage it.

When the silence became unusually long, Norah said, “Louis is a missionary, home on furlough for a few months, and I've asked him for advice about the way to proceed with my plans. He thinks if I go ahead with my education, the way will open for me. But I can't go to school without money. And if I have to work to pay my way through college, it will take even longer for my preparation. If I could sell my house in Missouri, I'd have the funds I need.”

Funny, Norah thought, that she wouldn't discuss her financial situation with Louis, but she was always pouring out her problems to Mason.

Wearily, Mason stood up. “I hope things work out for you, Norah,” he said, and he meant it sincerely. He wouldn't stand in her way of doing what
she felt God wanted her to do. But he returned to the Flying K a discouraged man.

During the remaining two weeks of the therapy session, Mason didn't come to the Bar 8 at all in the evenings. He occasionally came to observe the activities of H & H in the early morning, but he didn't visit the ranch house.

To avoid Louis, rather than to sit on the porch, Norah went to her room as soon as she finished the kitchen work. She believed that Louis was a fine man, but he wasn't Mason, and she didn't want to encourage his friendship.

“Have you and Mason quarreled?” Sheila asked one day as they were preparing dinner.

“No.”

“Is he jealous of Louis Masters?” Sheila persisted.

“He has no reason to be.”

“Mason is a sensitive man, and he might have decided he was getting in your way. He's also keen enough to know that Louis is more refined than he is—that you have the same interests.”

Norah continued chopping onions for the casserole she was preparing, wondering if the tears in her eyes were from the onions.

“Doug says Mason is awful grouchy.”

“Sheila, there's nothing between Mason and me,
so please don't try to make more of our relationship then there is.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

 

Mason didn't know why he was staying away from Norah. Just because she sat on the porch talking with Louis Masters, and had taken a few horseback rides around the corral with him, didn't give Mason any reason to avoid her. He'd had no idea how deeply he looked forward to her company until he didn't talk to her for a few days. Was he in love with Norah? He thought it wouldn't take long for him to love her, if he knew how she felt about him.

Although they would usually have spent weekends together, he was busy in the hay field now, wanting to get his hay baled before it rained. He worked until almost dark, so it wasn't easy to go see her, when she needed to go to bed early. But he could have at least stopped in to see her when he'd gone to watch the young riders. He excused his actions, rationalizing that mornings were her busiest times. He couldn't even bring himself to telephone in the evening, justifying his neglect by believing that when he came in from work, she'd be in bed. He couldn't understand what possessed him.