Love Finds You in Groom, Texas (9 page)

After supper, Anne helped Maggie and the other women clear the table. She offered to wash the dishes, but Maggie wouldn’t hear of it. Likely because Anne couldn’t stop yawning.

“Go on outside and take a walk,” Maggie said. “Feast your eyes on that gorgeous Texas sunset. Then get on back in here and tuck yourself into bed for the night.”

The idea sounded simply delicious. Anne gazed up at Maggie, wanting to pour out her thanks but unwilling to speak even a word. What was it about this place? This woman?

She knew, of course. The overwhelming sense of family. The laughter of children, coupled with the disciplining they received from loving parents.

“Yes, you go on outside and soak up that sunset, Anne,” Maggie said. The older woman fussed with Kate’s disheveled curls. “I do believe this young lady could stand to have her hair washed.” Maggie glanced Anne’s way. “Would it be all right with you if I took care of that?”

“Why, of course.” Anne nodded.

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears. “Must sound silly, but it’s been years since I’ve helped a little one with her hair.” She clasped her hands together and looked at Kate. “Oh, I know! Let’s put your hair in pin curls tonight. Would you like that?”

Kate’s expression hardened. “Will it hurt?”

“Oh, no. I’ll be as gentle as a lamb, I promise. You won’t even know you’re sleeping on them. And while we’re pinning up your curls, I’ll tell you a story about the day I first arrived in Texas as a young woman.”

Suddenly Anne found herself intrigued. “You’re not from Texas?”

“No, my folks lived in Missouri. My father, God rest his soul, came down to the Panhandle on business and fell in love with the place. He took one look at this magnificent land and…” Maggie giggled. “Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me get Kate’s hair washed and then I’ll tell the story.” She and Kate disappeared into the bathroom and Anne glanced at the front door, wondering if she could really slip outside for a few moments of alone time. Off in the other room, she heard Kate’s voice ring out alongside Maggie’s in a rousing rendition of “Camptown Races.” Before long, she found herself humming it too.

Just about the time she’d opened her mouth to sing a few of the words, a gentle voice rang out from behind her. “So, the fair Guinevere sings too.”

Anne turned, her cheeks suddenly feeling as if they were on fire.

“Excuse me? What did you call me?”

He grinned. “Oh, sorry about that. Just a slip.”

“Did you say Guinevere?” She took a seat. “Like the one in the legend of King Arthur?”

“That’s the one. From the minute I first met you, I felt you resembled her. Or at least the image of her I’d painted in my head after reading the story.”

“That’s a lovely compliment.” Anne found herself embarrassed by such flattery. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He paused and gave her a tender look. “Did I hear you say you were going outside for a walk?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll catch the sunset if you hurry. I’ve got to head out to pen up the goats and then tend to my mare, Frances.”

“You named your mare?” For whatever reason, this got her tickled.

“Well, sure. Don’t you name your animals?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. “I call them Emily and Kate.”

He seemed to get great pleasure out of that. Before long they were both laughing.

“I’ll be in the barn a few minutes, but I’ll join you when I’m done.” Jake gave her a second glance. “If that’s all right.”

“Of course.” She offered him a shy smile, her heart skipping to double-time as he returned it. Oh, those dimples. How they captured her imagination.

Before heading outside, Anne peeked in on Kate, who was singing a song in the bathtub while Maggie scrubbed her hair. Since when did Kate sit still for a hair scrubbing? Why, the youngster was really going to town, singing that song. And where was Emily? She’d disappeared. She glanced into the youngster’s room and was surprised to find her seated at the rolltop desk. As Anne entered the room, Emily looked up.

“Aren’t you too tired to write tonight?” Anne asked.

“Not at all.” Emily looked at her, clearly stunned. “This has been the most amazing day. Loaded with fodder for my story. If I don’t capture it right away, I’ll go to sleep and forget. I need to put the words down while they’re fresh.”

“I see.” Anne chuckled. She didn’t really understand her sister’s enthusiasm for stories but knew that writing brought some sense of comfort. “Well, I’m headed outside for a little walk. I’ll be back in before long.”

“Mm-hmm.” Emily turned back to her tablet, her pencil moving fast across the page.

Anne slipped through the front door and stood on the porch for a moment. She thought about sitting in the swing to enjoy the sunset but decided that a walk sounded more appealing.

She made her way down the stairs and across the lawn, going west so she could see the sunset in all its glory. In all her nineteen years, she’d never seen such a large property before. Their home in Denver had been situated just yards away from the house next door. Most houses in the city were built so close you could practically reach out and touch your neighbors. But here, in this wide, expansive place, a person could walk for hours and never cross a neighbor’s property line.

Perhaps she would have to do that tomorrow. Walk for hours, that is. How glorious it sounded. Of course, if she got to choose, she would continue walking west, as far away from Dallas—and her future life with Uncle Bertrand—as possible.

Anne strolled across the yard and out into the field, enjoying the sunset. Off in the distance, she heard the voices of John and his children. Before long, the chatter of young voices gave way to the silence of the wide-open plains.

She tried to picture her mother just beyond that sunset. Her wonderful, kind mother—who’d been so good to everyone. She’d slipped off to heaven without so much as a real good-bye, leaving behind only memories and the little cross, a small symbol of her very large faith.

Anne fingered the necklace, hoping to stir up some degree of faith to see her through this current problem. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Though her prayers of late felt as if they weren’t going much higher than the clouds, she decided to give it another try. Perhaps this time the Lord would give her an answer she could live with…if she could only think of a way to voice the question.

“Lord, is this some sort of sign?” She looked to the skies but saw nothing. Heard nothing—nothing but the sound of a whip-poorwill in the distance. “Maybe we’re not supposed to go to Dallas. Am I supposed to turn back around and return to Colorado?”

Across the field, the sun dipped below the trees, casting ribbons of color across the field. The grass, once golden, now looked almost red. If she stood here awhile longer, would it drift to shades of gray? Likely. Hadn’t her life moved in that direction already?

Pushing back the tears, she forced herself to pray.

Jake finished his work in the barn then headed to the fence, to the spot where he’d seen Anne walking. From a distance, he watched as she stood beneath the glow of the setting sun, her beautiful black hair shimming under a red-orange sky. He could tell from her posture that she felt relaxed. He hated to interrupt her but felt himself drawn in much the same way he’d been drawn to work for the railroad three years ago. Some things were just unavoidable. He drew near and cleared his throat.

She turned, and he could see at once that her eyes brimmed with tears.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I—I didn’t know you were…” Jake reached inside his pocket and came out with a handkerchief, which he passed her way. “Would you like me to go? I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine.” She dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. “I’m just being silly, I guess.”

He took another step in her direction. “Missing Colorado?”

“Yes. Missing a great many things.”

He hoped she would elaborate, but she did not. He had so many questions—about the life she’d left behind and why she and her sisters were on their way to their uncle’s house.

He opted to say nothing at all. Maybe it would be better to leave things as they were for a moment. He stood alongside her, gazing out over the pasture. From time to time, he heard what sounded like a contented sigh as she took in the sight before them.

Off in the distance, the family’s collie rested in the yard. “From what I hear, Ginger worked hard today,” Jake said. “John said she was worth her weight in gold. They rounded up the cattle on the back twenty.”

“Aw. Poor Ginger.”

“Yes. It looks like she’s tuckered out.”

“I’m a little tired myself.”

“Should we go back inside?”

“Not just yet.” She turned and offered up the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“What do you think of O’Farrell’s Honor?” Jake gestured to the acreage before them. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Keep your eyes on that field over there.” He pointed to the west. “Every few minutes the sunset changes and you see something new. If you stand here long enough, you can see literally dozens of different colors. It’s like a kaleidoscope.”

A few minutes later, she gasped. “Oh, I see what you mean. First it was red, and now it’s sort of a purple color.”

“Yes, and that will eventually fade to pink and gray, so keep watching.”

They stood in silence as the sun slipped over the horizon and left behind heavy gray skies. Still neither of them moved.

After a while Anne yawned, and Jake fought the temptation to slip his arm across her shoulder so that she could rest against him. “Sounds like we need to get you back inside. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

“I am tired, but it’s so beautiful here, even in the dark. So peaceful and quiet.” She offered another sweet smile, which he could barely make out in the hazy shadows of the evening. “Just a couple more minutes?”

“Of course.”

“You’re very blessed to live in such a wide-open space,” she said after a few moments of silence. “Do you ever feel…lost?”

“Lost?” He shook his head. “Not that I can remember. Of course, I’m surrounded on every side by family. It’s hard to feel lost when the people you love are all nearby.”

He paused, realizing the pain his words must be causing her since she’d just lost a parent. How insensitive could he be?

She sniffled and he reached for his handkerchief once again.

“I’m sorry.” She turned his way, her voice as soft as lamb’s wool. “I think I’m just exhausted. I’m not usually this emotional. I try to be the strong one for my sisters. Ever since Papa died…” Her words drifted off.

“You don’t have to say anything else. And I’m sorry if I hurt you with what I said a minute ago, about having family surrounding me on every side. I don’t ever want anyone to think I dislike having family nearby. They’re wonderful. Chaotic, but wonderful. I love every single person and would give my life for any one of them. So it’s not that I feel crowded. I’m just…” He found himself unable to continue. How could he explain what he really felt? That he couldn’t live up to what others expected of him? That no matter how long he tried, folks would go on seeing him as nothing but the baby brother?

“There’s plenty of room for everyone here.” She gestured to the open field. “I’ve never seen so much land.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Oh, look!” She pointed heavenward. “I can actually see the stars here.”

“Well, of course.” He chuckled. “They’re as bright as candles. It’s like this every night.”

“Not in Denver. With all the tall buildings, I rarely caught a glimpse of the stars. But out here, it’s magnificent.”

“Mama always says you can reach out and touch the stars. That’s one of the things that drew her father to the Panhandle.” He chuckled. “When I was a kid, my grandfather used to tell me to snatch ’em in my hand and put ’em in my pocket.”

“In your pocket? Why?”

“So I wouldn’t lose them.” He laughed. “I can’t tell you how old I was when I finally figured out that the stars were too big to be able to reach out and grab with my hand. It was quite a letdown, let me tell you.”

A contented sigh followed from Anne…and then a yawn. Afterward, she turned his way. “I guess it’s time to get back inside. It’s been a long day.”

“Mm-hmm.” He wanted to add, “It’s been a wonderful day,” but didn’t. Instead, he offered her his arm so they could walk together across the field toward the house. Maybe, if he took small steps, he could snatch a few extra moments alone with Guinevere.

No, not so. From the porch, he heard Kate’s voice. “Annie, are you coming in? It’s getting late, and I want you to tuck me into bed.”

Anne picked up her pace, and he followed suit. Hopefully there would be plenty of time to spend with her tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.