The Shepherd's Voice (28 page)

“I’m not afraid,” Pauline whispered, her voice full of wonder. She looked up, meeting Akira’s gaze, her eyes sparkling with tears of joy. “I’m not afraid.”

Akira smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, Akira.”

“Thank God.”

“Yes. Thank God.” She laughed softly.

Akira took hold of Pauline’s hand again. “When you go back to town, you should stop to see Reverend Neville. It’s important you tell him what’s happened.”

“I will. I promise.” She looked toward the window. “I suppose I should go now. It’s getting darker.”

Akira rose from her chair at the same time Pauline rose from hers. Before she could take her first step, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She sank backward, missed the chair, and fell to the floor.

“Akira!”

Akira ran one hand over her face, feeling utterly foolish. “I’m all right.”

Pauline knelt on the floor beside her and slipped a hand beneath Akira’s head. “Are you sure?”

No, she wasn’t sure, but she said, “Yes,” in a weak voice, keeping her eyes closed and hoping the dizziness would soon pass.

“You’re as white as a sheet. You’d better lie still. Should I send Eugene for Mrs. Wickham?”

“No. Give me a second or two, and I’ll be fine.”

“Has this ever happened before?”

“No.”

“Look at me,” Pauline ordered.

Akira did.

“Have you been feeling faint whenever you straighten suddenly? Has your stomach been queasy? Especially when you smell fried foods?”

“I guess so.”

“I thought there was something different about you.” Pauline grinned. “Mrs. Gabriel Talmadge, I suspect you may be with child.”

“What?”
Akira tried to sit up, but she began to black out a second time. She lay back, forcing herself to take long, deep breaths.

“Pregnant,” Pauline said with finality.

“Pregnant,” Akira whispered.

“Won’t Gabe be surprised?” She paused, then said, “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

With thoughts whirling madly in her head, Akira was scarcely aware of Pauline helping her up from the floor and walking her to the bedroom.

Won’t Gabe be surprised?
That was an understatement. Surprised and … and what?

O Lord
,
is it possible I’m really with child? If I am
,
will Gabe be happy about it? What if —?

No, she decided, stopping herself abruptly. She wouldn’t question the Almighty about this. If He’d given them a baby, then that meant now was exactly the right time.

TWENTY

Hudson’s return to Ransom was delayed two days by the early season snowstorm. He’d hoped to make use of his unexpected stay in Boise by wining and dining Quincey Fortier, but the senator, he’d been told, was unavailable.

“Unavailable,” Hudson muttered as he drove the Duesenberg up the drive to the Talmadge mansion. “Fortier’s a coward
and
a liar.”

Even as he spoke those words, he had the oddest feeling he’d lost his grip on something vitally important. Which only served to make him angry. He was a self-made man. He determined his own destiny. He decided what was important, and then he did whatever was necessary to bring it to pass. And nobody was going to stand in his way.

The car fishtailed as it rounded an icy curve in the drive.

Hudson swore beneath his breath, his anger building with each passing second. There hadn’t been a blasted thing that had gone right for months now.

He stopped the car in front of the house. The main door opened and Eugene Holcomb, Pauline’s chauffeur, appeared. He came down the steps two at a time.

“Welcome home, Mr. Talmadge,” Eugene said as he opened the door of the Duesenberg.

“Bring in my bags.” He got out of the car. “I’ll need my briefcase in my study right away.”

“Yes sir.”

Hudson’s foot landed in a puddle of melting snow. He cursed again, loudly this time, then strode toward the front door. He found Pauline standing in the entry, as if waiting to greet him. She smiled hesitantly. He glowered back at her.

“Did you have problems on the road?” she asked, her smile gone.

“What do you think?”

She took a step backward. “Can I have something prepared for you to eat? You must be hungry.”

“Yes. Have it brought to my study. I have work to do.” He swept past her.

“Hudson?”

Something in her voice caused him to pause. He glanced over his shoulder.

“I … I’m glad you’re home.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Out of spending money?”

She shook her head.

He stared at her a moment longer. There seemed to be something different about her, though he couldn’t put his finger on what that something was. It reminded him of someone else. Who?

With a shake of his head, he proceeded down the hallway.

As the door closed behind her husband, Pauline leaned against the wall. Hudson loathed her. That much was clear in his voice and in his eyes. What point was there in trying to be a good wife? He didn’t care. He never had.

“But then, neither did I,” she whispered. “All I wanted was his money.”

The truth hurt. She didn’t like seeing herself as selfish or greedy, but she supposed God couldn’t change her until she confessed her faults.

She straightened and walked toward the kitchen. She would have the cook prepare Hudson a dinner tray. Maybe after he’d eaten, he would be in a better mood. Then perhaps she could find the courage to tell him what had happened to her while he was away.

A shiver coursed up her spine.

Tell Hudson she’d embraced Christianity? He would be furious, outraged. He had no patience with, as he put it, “weak-minded sops who need a God to see them through life.” She’d heard him say that often enough. He’d sent her to church to be his spy, not to find a savior.

Yet it seemed important she tell him. Perhaps it was something she’d heard the minister say from the pulpit several weeks before, something about Christ denying those who denied Him. She didn’t want to be denied by the Lord.

And maybe Hudson would see the truth for himself. Maybe he would want the same joy she’d found, the same freedom, the same love.

Love.

How she had yearned for love in the years she’d been married to Hudson. She’d been starving and hadn’t even known it.

Akira stared out the window, her gaze set upon the tall mountain peaks in the distance. Cold air seeped through the glass, and she instinctively crossed her arms against the chill.

A baby. Gabriel’s child, growing inside her.

The wonder of it hadn’t worn off. In fact, it seemed to increase
with each passing day. A year ago, even less, she had thought her life complete. She’d wanted nothing more than this ranch, good friends, and the fellowship of her Lord. She hadn’t sought a husband or children.

And now …

She placed the flat of one hand over her abdomen, marveling at the miracle of life.

“Mary pondered these things in her heart,” she whispered, feeling an unexpected kinship with a woman who’d lived nearly two thousand years before.

Joy washed over her, all-encompassing, warming her. She closed her eyes and gave herself to the sensation.

“Thank You.”

She imagined her grandfather, seated on the front porch, holding her baby in his arms. How he would have rejoiced in her happiness. How he would have celebrated.

In her mind’s eye, she watched her baby—a son, she believed—growing into manhood, along with several brothers and sisters. She pictured them working the land beside their father, raising Dundreggan sheep, growing crops and harvesting them. Most importantly, she envisioned them knowing and serving God.

“Thank You, Jesus.”

“Amen.”

She gasped in surprise, her eyes flying open. She hadn’t heard the door open or felt the rush of air announcing it. Yet there Gabe stood, a dark, short beard covering his jaw, his cheeks and nose bright red with cold.

She wanted to run to him, but she didn’t. “You’re back,” she said, knowing it sounded inane but she didn’t care.

He smiled, the expression gentle, even serene. “I’m back.”

“I didn’t know how long it would take.”

“Neither did I.”

“I was afraid it would take all winter.”

“It didn’t.”

She took a step toward him. “You found what you went after.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, I found it.” He paused, then said, “No. God revealed it, and I listened. Really listened.” He removed his coat and hung it on the peg in the wall near the door. “I have much to tell you, Akira.”

And I have much to tell you
, she thought, her pulse quickening.

He came to her then, gathering her into his arms, holding her close against him. With his lips near her ear, he said, “God is faithful, even when we’re faithless. I spent hours and hours up on the mountain, looking back over the years of my life, and I saw so many ways He kept calling out to me, drawing me to Himself. Even when I answered His call and returned to Him and knew He’d forgiven me, I didn’t forgive myself. I think I wanted to be punished. I
needed
to be punished.” His hand gently stroked her hair. “I didn’t deserve all the good things He was pouring out on me. I didn’t deserve you, so I purposefully built a wall between us. A wall made of my own guilt.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“If I got what I deserved, I’d be in hell,” he said softly.

She suspected he was talking to himself rather than to her.

Gabe drew back. He cupped the sides of her face with his hands, tilting her head slightly until her gaze met his.

“‘Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave Himself for it.’”

He spoke in a low voice, quoting the verses slowly and deliberately.

“‘That He might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that He might present it to Himself a glorious
church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish.’”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead. She closed her eyes.

“So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church.”

His breath, as he continued, was warm upon her skin.

“For we are members of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones. For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh.”