The Shepherd's Voice (15 page)

Judging by Hudson’s expression, the apology threw him off balance. He seemed to forget what he wanted to say.

Pauline touched Gabe’s knee with the tips of her fingers. “You’ll dine with us, of course. Our cook has prepared something special.”

“Sorry. I’ve got chores awaiting me.”

“I thought you were supposed to rest on the Sabbath,” she said in a slightly amused tone.

“God knows the animals must be fed.” He looked at Hudson again. “Why’d you send for me?”

“I want your help with the Macauley woman.”

Now Gabe was the one thrown off balance. “My help? With Akira?”

“I have plans. Big plans. They could mean a great deal to the people of Ransom. This economic depression can’t last forever. If I succeed in developing this valley, Ransom will thrive in the coming years and so will those who live here. You, too, if you’ll help me.”

“What sort of help?”

“I want the Macauley property. I
need
it. I’ve offered good money, more than she could hope for from anyone else, times being what they are. But she refuses to sell. I was hoping she might listen to you.”

“Why would she?”

“You’re with her every day. And every night, I suspect.”

“What do you mean by that?”

His father’s laugh was unpleasant and all the explanation Gabe needed.

“Akira is a decent, God-fearing woman.”

“And you’re a man who was in prison for ten years. If you’re not lusting after a woman, even one who stinks of sheep, then you’re not normal. Don’t think I’m the only person who’s guessed what’s going on out there.”

Gabe stood, his fists clenched at his sides, fighting the anger inside him. “If that’s all you’ve got to say, then I’ll be off.”

“That isn’t all.” Hudson stood too. “You came back to Ransom because you wanted something from me. You wanted me to give you work and a place to stay. You came begging for it. You looked around at everything I have, and you wanted a piece of it. Well, you may even get some of it, but I’m asking something in return. Prove yourself worthy of being called a Talmadge. If you succeed, you’ll be handsomely rewarded.”

“Prove it how?”

“Use your imagination,” his father answered.

Gabe wasn’t the hungry, hopeless tramp who’d arrived at the mill a few weeks back. He wasn’t the man who’d been broken beneath the weight of his own sins, his own guilt and shame. He was different. Forever different. Hudson didn’t know that yet. But Gabe did.

“I never wanted anything from you except a Father’s love.” He lowered his voice. “And you don’t have anything I want now.” He turned toward Pauline. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Talmadge.”

Without another glance at Hudson, Gabe strode out of the drawing room. The butler was waiting near the front door, Gabe’s hat in hand, his expression studiously neutral. Gabe took the hat, nodded, then left the house.

As the ornate door swung closed behind him, he heard Hudson bellow in rage.

Gabe actually felt sorry for him.

After their visit with Jane at the Sebastian farm, where they shared the noon meal, Akira and Nora returned to Dundreggan. Akira had half hoped she would find Gabe already there. After all, an automobile could cover the distance in much shorter time than the team and wagon. But he wasn’t home yet.

The hours of afternoon lengthened, along with the shadows, while Akira went about her chores, her thoughts confused and disjointed. She tried to pray but couldn’t. No, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t that she couldn’t pray. She was
afraid
to pray. Afraid God’s answer might be different from what her heart wanted.

Countless times she looked down the drive toward the main road, watching for a telltale cloud of dust to signal an automobile’s approach. It was never there. She thought about going after him, driving right up to the Talmadge mansion and demanding he return home with her.

“Love hurts,” she told Cam as dusk settled upon the valley.

Lying at her feet, the collie whimpered.

Akira grabbed another ear of corn from the feed sack and continued
shucking. “I never knew that before,” she added. “That love hurts.”

This time, Cam raised her head from her paws and stared at her mistress with wide brown eyes.

“You’re no help.” She smiled sadly as she stroked the dog’s head.

Cam rose on all fours and looked toward the road, her ears cocked forward. Akira set aside the corn and stood too, looking to see what had drawn the dog’s attention. Her heart pattered erratically in her chest. But there was no sign of an approaching vehicle, no unusual sound of any kind.

Disappointment flooded through Akira as she sank onto the chair.

Suddenly the collie jumped off the porch and raced up the drive. A few moments later, Gabe strode into view. He’d removed his suit coat and carried it slung over one shoulder, held there with an index finger crooked beneath the collar. His sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, and even from this distance, she could see rings of perspiration dampening the white shirt beneath his arms.

He stopped when the dog reached him, leaned down and stroked her head, spoke, ruffled her ears. Then he straightened, looked toward the front porch, and lifted a hand to wave at Akira. She saw him smile.

She couldn’t find words to describe what she felt. She didn’t think there were any.

Gabe walked toward her, Cam leading the way.

I was worried. What kept you so long?

“Warm evening,” he said.

“I made iced tea. Would you like some?”

“Please.” He draped the suit jacket over the porch railing before settling onto the top step.

She went inside, filled a large glass with the cool drink, then carried it to him. She found him shucking corn.

What happened at your father’s?

“Here you go,” she said softly.

“Thanks.” He took it from her. “It’s a long walk from town.”

“I thought Mrs. Tal —”

“I preferred to walk.” He put the glass to his lips, tipped back his head, and drank, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down with each swallow. When he’d drained the glass, he set it beside him on the porch and reached for another ear of corn.

“Folks are talking, Akira. About me. About us.”

“Us?”

He didn’t look at her. “Hud suggested some think we’re …” He let the words drift into silence.

Understanding dawned. “Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks.

“I ought to leave. It isn’t good for you to have an ex-con on your place.” His expression darkened. “There’s those who would use me and what I am to hurt you.”

“You can’t leave, Gabe.” She leaned toward him, tamping the panic in her heart. “There will always be talk, no matter where you go, because you did time in prison. You know that’s true. People are the same the world over. There are mean, small-minded folks everywhere. But there are good ones, too. Ransom’s got its share. Stay and give them a chance to come around. Like Mrs. Wickham did.”

“It won’t stop the talk. About you and me.”

“Short of the two of us getting married, I don’t see how we can stop it.”

His eyes widened.

She was stunned into silence by her own words.

Gabe stood, reached for his jacket, stepped off the porch. “I’d best turn in.”

“Wait!” She was afraid. So afraid. “I have something for you. I’ll get it.” She rushed into the house.

Married?

Married to Akira.

It was a crazy, wild, outlandish notion.

She was everything good and true and pure.

He’d seen the evil men did. He’d lived it. God might have pardoned him, but that didn’t wipe away what he’d done, what he’d been.

Married to Akira.

It was worse than crazy. He would never be good enough for her. She deserved the best.

Akira reappeared in the doorway, carrying a black book in her hand. “It’s a Bible.” She held it toward him. “Miss Sebastian sent it to you. It belonged to a young man she was to marry, but he died. That was when she came to Ransom to live with her brother. She wants you to have it now.”

Gabe took the book, then rubbed his fingers over the worn leather cover. “I never knew Miss Jane was engaged.” More to himself than to Akira, he added, “This must have meant a lot to her to keep it all these years.”

“Yes, but you mean more.” She dropped her gaze to a spot on the porch. “Please don’t hold what I said against me. About stopping folks from talking. I never meant —”

“You don’t have to say anything, Akira. I know you didn’t mean it like it sounded.” He lifted the Bible in front of his chest. “I’ll thank Miss Jane for this.”

She watched as he walked away in the gathering dusk.

“But I
did
mean it, Gabriel,” she whispered when she was sure he was out of hearing. “I meant it with all my heart.”

ELEVEN

Gabe closed the Bible, then lay back in the tall grass near the river’s edge and stared up at the evening sky.

What a wondrous thing the word of God was! No matter what he read—Old Testament or New, single verses or entire chapters—it spoke to his heart. He’d known he wanted a Bible. He’d known he needed one in order to learn more about Jesus, more about how he should live his life.

But he’d never imagined it would be like this.

“‘For the word of God,’” he quoted, “‘is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword.’ Hebrews, chapter four, verse twelve.”

He grinned, pleased with himself for remembering the verse.

Yesterday, Akira had called him a sponge. He liked the idea. He wanted to soak it all in. He wanted to immerse himself in it, to understand it and live it.

He recalled another passage. “‘But He that is spiritual judgeth all things, yet He Himself is judged of no man. For who hath known the mind of the Lord, that he may instruct Him? But we have the mind of Christ.’”

Another voice chimed in. “First Corinthians, chapter two.”

He sat up and glanced behind him, watching Akira’s approach.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she said as she drew near.

“It’s cooler by the water.”

She settled onto the ground beside him. Hugging her knees to her chest, she closed her eyes, then took a deep breath. “Mmm. I love the smell of August.”

“What does August smell like?”

“I don’t know.” She let her head drop back, her face turned toward the sky. “Dusky?”

He might have said her answer didn’t make sense, only he was distracted by the length of her exposed throat—pale, soft, and elegantly arched.

Things had been different—awkward and tentative—between them this week, and he knew why. Her offhanded remark about getting married to stop the gossip had put images in his head that shouldn’t have been there. It had started him thinking what it might be like to have a wife, a home, maybe children. And more than once he’d found himself wanting to take her in his arms and kiss her, taste her mouth, feel the warmth of her body against his.