Rocky Mountain Match (4 page)

He jammed his hands into his pockets, his jaw muscle ticking. “I don’t quit things that easily, but even if I did, I have three brothers holding my feet to the fire.”

“They must care a great deal.”

When he just nodded, she walked to the kitchen where the bold scent of fresh coffee met her squarely. Setting her books on the table, she smoothed her pale yellow cotton skirt. “Smells like you made coffee. Do you mind if I help myself?”

“Go right ahead.” He shuffled to the table, his hands splayed in front of him. “My brothers were over earlier this morning and Ben made a pot.” Reaching for a chair, he added, “I’m warning you, he makes it strong enough to wake the dead.”

“Perfect. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I must not be used to my new surroundings yet,” she half lied. In truth she’d lain awake thinking of how she could best help him.

And how she could keep this job.

She couldn’t bear the thought of going home already—too many dark clouds threatened on the horizon there. Here, she had hope that the sun’s warmth would shine on her face again. With or without a job her aunt and uncle
would welcome her to stay, but Katie would never think to impose on their goodness overly long, especially if she wasn’t earning her keep.

“Mr. Drake, could I get you a cup, too?”

He shifted nervously, then reached out to his adorable dog who sauntered up beside him, his big, furry feet sweeping across the wood floor as though he wore heavy boots. “Sure. Thanks.”

As she scanned the cupboard shelves for two mugs, she wondered what had come over Mr. Drake. The contempt he’d readily shown yesterday was barely visible today—in fact, she might even go so far as to say that he was congenial.

Spotting a row of mugs on the third shelf, she said, “They’re a little out of reach.”

He stood, quirking one brow. “What?”

“The mugs… I’m not tall enough to reach them.”

Lifting his head in silent recognition, he moved toward her, his movements jerky and uncertain. When he’d pulled them from the shelf, he turned, almost knocking into her.

“Here you are,” he said, holding the mugs out to her.

Katie squeezed back against the counter as he towered over her. An eerie chill crept up her spine as she struggled to block out the haunting memories that assaulted her. But the way Mr. Drake stood over her, trapping her and closing her in like he was, she wanted to scream and escape from the suffocating confinement.

Gulping back the bile that rose in her throat, she snatched the mugs from him with trembling hands. “Thank you.”

She slipped around him and crossed to the stove. As she steadied her hands enough to pour the steaming liquid,
she willed her heart to stop pounding. Setting the pot back on the burner, her brow beaded with a cold sweat and her vision narrowed. She fought to even out her short gasping breaths, clutching the stove handle as though it were some lifeline.

Katie reminded herself over and over that he was not Frank Fowler, the man who’d set into motion a year of turmoil that she could share with no one. She’d had to carry the burden alone and at times it threatened to shatter her under its weight.

Frantically grasping for some thread of hope, she struggled to drag herself away from the edge of despair. Like a faint, saving call, she could hear a comforting voice, reminding herself that she was safe now. Hundreds of miles away from Fowler and from the wicked sneer that would stretch across his face each time he’d see her.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the images, she felt her stomach tense. She’d thought that putting distance between herself and home would eliminate moments like this, but the miles had done nothing. The memories were stronger than ever. The fear, consuming. The images had struck with the force of a landslide, unearthing every raw emotion she’d attempted to bury.

“Miss Ellickson?” Mr. Drake’s tentative voice broke through her swirling thoughts.

Rising above the fray of images barraging her mind, Katie slowly spun back around. “Here you are.” Her voice was thin and strained. Her hands still quivered as she set down the cups of coffee. “Here’s your coffee—be careful, it’s hot.”

She lightly grasped his hands and directed them to the stone mug. His hands, large and work-worn in hers, felt
strong enough to ward off any enemy, yet gentle enough to soothe a baby.

And brought an immediate, tangible calm to Katie.

The fear that had mounted so quickly, rocking her off kilter, dispelled just as fast. A shaky sigh escaped her lips.

“Miss Ellickson?” His brow furrowed. “Are you all right?”

Sinking into a seat across from him, she took a slow sip of coffee. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I’d get you something to eat,” he said, gesturing toward the cupboards, “but I’m not sure of what’s here anymore. If you can find something…”

“Thank you, but Aunt Marta made sure I ate this morning,” she managed, cupping her hands around the warm mug and staring at him from over the rim. She noticed, for the first time, how his deep chestnut hair hung in playful waves across the white bandages on his forehead, and the way a stubborn cowlick kicked a thick clutch of hair to the side, giving him an innocent look.

Something about him was so captivating, intriguing, almost demanding of her attention. Was it the confidence he exuded in spite of his fear? Was it the way he filled the room with his strong, quiet presence? Or was it his undeniable good looks?

Eager to distract her thoughts, she looked away, noticing a long cane leaning in the corner. She hadn’t seen it there yesterday, but then with all of the commotion she easily could have missed it. “I see you have a cane?”

When he paused, she couldn’t miss the way he turned his head away from the object as though it were an offending image in his home. “Ben brought it by this morning.”

Her heart pulled tight. “Well, if you’re up to it, maybe
the best use of our time today would be to help you get more comfortable around your home. We’ll count out steps between rooms and furniture—that sort of thing.”

Bowing his head, he fingered the edge of the mug. “So the walls and furniture don’t find me first?”

“Exactly.”

He raised his chin. “We might as well get it over with.”

Although resignation hung heavy in his voice, Katie could hardly believe he’d so readily agreed. She stared for a long moment, not quite sure how to take his cooperative agreement.

“You’re awfully quiet. Are you still there?” He traced his fingertips slowly over the table’s smooth surface.

Katie shook off her surprise, then pushed up from the table. “I’m sorry. I apologize if my mind is elsewhere this morning.”

Nodding, he rose from the table.

“We’ll begin at your front door, counting steps from there first. You can use the cane for—”

“For
firewood,
maybe.” He threw a scowl her way, then shuffled toward the door.

“Well, now, that’s not a very agreeable thing to say,” she threw back at him.

“That’s because I’m not feeling overly compliant, Miss Ellickson.” He leaned a shoulder against the door. “At least not as far as that thing goes.”

“Using that
thing
might prevent you from a mishap.” She perched her hands on her hips, surprised and strangely relieved at his show of stubbornness. “Back at the school we liken a cane to eyes. It will help you see where you’re going.”

He gave a sarcastic laugh. “Well, we’re not at the
school and I don’t plan on being this way forever, thank you.”

Crossing her arms at her chest, she eyed him. “Stubborn, aren’t you?”

Her heart squeezed at his insistence that things were going to change for him. She hoped, for his sake, they would.

He raised his chin the slightest bit. “So I’ve been told.”

“Then you can take my elbow, like we did yesterday. It’s the preferred way to navigate as opposed to holding one’s hand or being pushed along. But if you use the cane, as well,” she added, hoping to appeal to his greater sense of reason, “you’ll be able to tell what might be lying in your path.”

“No, thanks.” His curt response and the way his jaw tensed left her void of any argument.

“Why don’t you tell me about the layout of your home? Don’t be vague about where your furniture is located, so that you’ll have a clear picture in your mind.”

With a slow exhale, he made a detailed description, his tone reminiscent at times as he described his home to a T.

“Perfect. Now, try to relax and walk at a normal pace and I’ll match your stride.” When she gently guided his hand to her arm, a tingling warmed her skin. She fought to ignore the sensation, resolute in her desire to remain professional. “I’ll do the counting and make sure you don’t run into anything.”

He tensed beside her, his grip tightening slightly. “All right. But I’ll warn you that I’m a little shaky on this.”

“You’ll do fine. Trust your instincts. If you’re aware, you should be able to sense when something is in your way.”

Cautiously he took a step while she began counting.
Then with each step following, his grip tightened as though she alone kept him from falling off a steep precipice. His hand trembled. His breathing grew shallow.

At eighteen steps and just inches from the back door, she stopped. “Now, use your hand that is outstretched to see how close you are.”

Perspiration beaded above his full lips. With one hand he clutched her arm, with the other he tentatively reached out, groping for the unseen. When his trembling fingers brushed against the wall, he exhaled a broken sigh.

Covering his hand at her elbow, her heart squeezed at seeing how much this had cost him. She peered up at Mr. Drake, taking in the stark change in his demeanor from just moments ago, when stubbornness waved like a proud battalion flag, to now, when raw fear weighed his shoulders and head down low.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Very well done. Your pace was just fine.”

He slid quivering fingers over his lips, then raised a fist to his bandaged eyes. “You’d think I could make it across the room without breaking a sweat,” he ground out. “I may as well have been scaling a mountain.”

“Don’t be discouraged.” She squeezed his hand. “It takes time getting used to all of this.”

“It’s my own home. I should be able to walk across the room without trembling in my boots.”

“You’re doing just fine—especially since you’ve only been up for a couple of days.” She turned to face him. “Taking everything into account, you’re doing very well.”

His face softened some, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. “You’re Little Miss Sunshine, aren’t you?”

A warm blush crept up her cheeks. She smiled at his
comment, surprised once again by his congeniality. “Better that than gloomy.”

“Far as I can tell, you could never be accused of that,” he replied, his hands still trembling some.

“There’s a bright side to everything.”

“What could be positive about this?” He gestured to his bandaged eyes.

Hugging her arms to her chest, she stared at him, the way he wore frustration like an unwanted old coat, and desperation like an acquaintance of ill repute. “You’re right, Mr. Drake. Your injury is not something easily reckoned with. Not having your sight is certainly nothing short of difficult, and I’m sure you wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Even an enemy.” Katie tried to steady the quiver in her voice. “But even as uncertain as things are right now, you can focus on where you’ve been or on where you’re going.”

His lips formed a tight, distressed line. “I wish I could. But taking a step forward when I can’t see where I’m going…it scares me to death.”

At his admission, sadness rose within Katie. She was shocked at the tiniest crack he’d allowed into himself, an opening that gave a glimpse into his silent battle.

Threading her fingers together in front of her, she searched for the right words. “I know this isn’t easy. In fact, I’m not sure how I could face such a thing. If you don’t regain your sight, there’ll be challenges. It won’t be easy, but I promise you it will be rewarding.” Katie gathered a bit more boldness, then added, “And if you’ll allow me, I’ll be here beside you to help you find your way to the other side.”

E
mbarrassed once again, Joseph’s face flamed hot. He was sure he’d suffered more humiliation in the past five days than he had his entire life.

He bit back a groan, trying to ignore his frustration. Having worked with Miss Ellickson for almost a week, why was he having such a hard time doing a simple task like pouring water from a pitcher? If he didn’t fully regain his vision, how would he ever be able to work in the shop again, handling sharp tools?

“Here, let me help you,” Miss Ellickson offered, the quiet calm in her voice beckoning him like a peaceful stream. “Sometimes trying too hard makes things more difficult. Now, lightly grasp the glass like this.” She gently positioned his fingers around the glass, her touch soft and soothing. As she slipped his forefinger at the last knuckle over the rim, she said, “Don’t hold too tight. Keep a light touch. Remember how that feels and now find the pitcher.”

Deeply concentrating, he was determined not to spill
again as he slid a hand along the counter to find the pitcher. When his fingers connected with the stone pitcher, he noticed how it was beaded with perspiration from the hot August day.

“Got it,” he confirmed.

Once he’d painstakingly set the lip of the pitcher over the rim of the glass, he poured the water. And when the cool liquid reached his finger, he pulled the pitcher back and sighed.

“There you go, that was perfect! Not one drop spilled.” The reassurance in her voice brightened his gruff mood enough that he even relaxed a little. “See? You can do it.”

He angled his head down to Katie. “Thanks, Sunshine.” Joseph smiled at her, hoping that she noticed, because so far this week it seemed as if all he’d done was scowl. In turn, she’d never once gotten impatient or cross with him. “Always the encourager, aren’t you?”

“You deserve it. You’re working very hard.”

When she gave his hand a light squeeze, he couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like. “You know, I figure that if I was a cat, I’d be dead.”

“What?” she asked on a laugh.

“I’d be dead from curiosity.” Raising his brows, he took one step closer to her. “You see, Miss Ellickson, you’re the only new person I’ve met since my accident. And your appearance—I mean the way you look—is still a mystery to me.”

The air seemed to grow warm and thick between them. His entire being hummed in full awareness of her presence beside him.

“Good thing you’re not a cat, then,” she finally responded, her voice sounding tight, strained.

Joseph gave an almost imperceptible nod, wishing that his brothers would indulge him with a few words about her physical appearance. They’d sure been vocal about him treating her well, and being a man of his word, he’d been on his best behavior. Although at this point he didn’t really need encouragement to do that—Miss Ellickson was easy to like.

He decided that when he returned from Denver with his vision intact, she was the first person he wanted to lay eyes on. If her appearance mirrored at all what he’d grown to understand of her character, he was sure she’d be beautiful.

Wouldn’t that be the irony of it all…a beautiful woman watching him stumble through simple things.

Leaning back against the counter, he momentarily cringed. “So, what next, Sunshine?”

When she stifled a laugh, his lips curved into a smile again. For some reason, the sound of her light laughter warmed his heart and made him want to make her smile again.

“Is this your name for me? Sunshine?”

“If the shoe fits.” He recalled different moments throughout the week when her encouragement had been the balm he’d needed to keep going. To keep moving forward toward normalcy, however meager it was compared to independence.

“You’re very kind, but I hardly think I warrant anything quite so grand.” He could hear her gathering some papers on the table.

Four steps and Joseph had crossed to the table, noticing for the first time how much less halting his footsteps sounded compared to just a few days ago. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

Unbidden, a deep fondness for her rose within him, and that unnerved him. Because somewhere along the line he’d missed how attached he was becoming to her. Was it because she’d given him hope at a time when things were bleak? Was it because she was so selfless in her work with him? It was just a job for her, wasn’t it? Maybe she had this effect on other students, too.

Or was it something more?

If so, he’d have to guard himself. She didn’t deserve his strained indifference, but he couldn’t let himself grow any fonder of her. If he didn’t regain his sight, his future as a single man would be irrevocably sealed because he wasn’t about to burden anyone with his blindness.

Her voice finally broke through the raw, unsettling revelation. “Well, Mr. Drake, why don’t we—”

“If it’s all right with you, would you mind calling me Joseph?” Guarding himself or not, he couldn’t stand another day of being addressed as Mr. Drake. He jammed his hands into his pockets and stood tall. “Mr. Drake is, well, it’s just too formal for my liking.”

She paused for a brief moment. “All right, then. Joseph it is—if you’ll call me Katie.”

Or Sunshine,
he thought, helpless to keep his emotions from running away.

If Joseph had been planted on the pulpit with flowers growing out of his Sunday clothes, he wouldn’t have felt more conspicuous than he did right now.

He shifted uncomfortably in the wooden pew, wishing he’d just ignored Ben’s challenge for him to attend church. Each step away from his cocooned world and nearer the church building had brought him closer to
people’s stares, even if he couldn’t see them. Having arrived a few minutes before the service started, he couldn’t avoid being a sideshow for curious onlookers or a conversation piece walking in with a bandage wrapped around his head.

He sat stock straight in the second row of pews, the back of the bench hitting well below his shoulder blades. Even though Ben’s tall frame was close to him and he’d kept a steady flow of whispered small talk going since they’d sat down, Joseph might as well have been alone. Inky darkness seemed to enfold him, isolating him in a room crowded with friends and acquaintances.

He shrugged off his uncertainty as faint comments regarding his attendance wafted to his ears. Joseph gritted his teeth. There was certainly nothing wrong with his hearing.

As much as he wanted to remain inconspicuous, he’d always seemed to attract attention in a room, especially that of women. It sure wasn’t something he set out to do. Julia had been no different. She’d sidled up to him like moss on a log as soon as she’d met him. But since his accident, certain little things, like her high-pitched voice, grated on his nerves.

Thoughts of seeing her again settled on him like cold rain. She’d not stopped by since that first day he’d worked with Katie, and Joseph wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t needed to see Julia that day to know that she was madder than a hornet. He could hear it in her sharp tone, the swish of her skirts and the brisk clip of her heels.

A few times when he lay awake listening to all the sounds of the night, he’d think about his relationship with her. Would she want to see him again if he didn’t gain back total sight? And sight or no, did he even want to
pursue anything other than friendship with her? He just couldn’t ignore how ill at ease he’d felt with Julia in the last three weeks.

When he’d first met her, he’d been intrigued by her vivacious, flamboyant ways. Maybe it was an eastern air about her, or maybe it was just Julia. Whatever the case, it was as though he could see what she was really like, now that he couldn’t see her. And he wasn’t sure that he liked what he saw.

Shrugging off his glum musings, he focused on the sun’s warmth pouring through the row of tall windows to his left. Thoughts of Katie filtered into his mind, spreading calm through him like warm honey. He couldn’t deny that he missed her presence by his side today. She’d given him a tangible confidence in moving about his home, eating without incident and even doing some cooking.

Was it her expertise she’d been so eager to give him that made him feel alive again? Or was it something more?

Katie’s heart clenched tight inside her chest when the pastor spoke in his sermon about trusting God. Like a broken-down wagon ransacked along a trail, she was almost empty of trust. Could she ever get beyond feeling like she alone must protect herself? It seemed as though God hadn’t protected her, but instead had allowed the vilest of things to happen to her—and by a man who claimed to serve God!

She’d trusted and been betrayed. Offered goodwill and been preyed upon. She’d been wounded to her core and endured it alone in shame for all of these months.

When Uncle Sven had wired her about coming out
here, she’d jumped at the chance to leave Iowa—leave her past behind. And after meeting Joseph, she knew she’d made the right decision.

As the service concluded with a familiar hymn, Katie rose from the pew and stood beside Ellie and Aaron. She felt a pull at her heart, thankful for the quick friendship that had developed with Ellie. From the moment she’d met the young woman a week ago, they’d bonded like blood sisters.

Although Katie joined in the hymn, her focus was constantly drawn to Joseph. He stood taller than those around him, his chestnut waves stirring in the warm breeze that blew through the tall windows. His shoulders impressed her with their broad and sturdy strength. On occasion she even glimpsed the resolute set of his jawline.

The pastor’s voice finally broke her reverie. “I want to remind everyone of the Glory Days celebration in three weeks. Mrs. Duncan is in charge of it again this year,” he announced, gesturing to the round-faced woman who stood waving to the congregation as though she were on parade. “So, if you’d like to volunteer, talk with her after the service.”

Katie sensed an excitement stirring in the room as the parishioners began filing out of the white clapboard church.

Edging her way out to the narrow aisle, she glanced at Joseph one last time and her stomach dropped. Miss Julia Cranston stood gazing up at him, her silky dark tresses and striking smile punctuating the room with icy elegance.

A stab of protectiveness shot through Katie’s heart. Was Miss Cranston saying thoughtless things yet again? Katie couldn’t imagine that the woman set out to be hurtful, but some people just had a knack for saying the wrong things.

Watching the interaction, she wanted to shove her way between the young beauty and Joseph, but she restrained herself. Clutching the pew in front of her, she felt almost giddy when the woman gave up with a shrug after just a few moments.

Inordinately relieved, Katie exited the church with Ellie.

“Did you see how Ethan Hofmann looked at you, Katie?” Ellie inquired, her cheeks flushed pink, matching the tiny rosebuds dotting her simple white cotton dress.

Katie stopped at the bottom of the steps, waiting for Ellie to catch her breath. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Who’s Ethan…Hofmann?”

Ellie’s hands went to her stomach and gently held the swell. “Ethan Hofmann. The blacksmith’s son. He was sitting to your right, several rows up, and he spent the entire service staring back at you.” Her crystal blue eyes grew wide. “His neck will be giving him fits tomorrow—and it serves him right!”

An icy quiver traveled down Katie’s spine. Over the past year, she’d received bone-chilling stares in her church back home. It was almost as though Frank Fowler, a well-respected deacon, innately knew when no one was looking, when his leering gaze and snapping black eyes wouldn’t set gossipy lips flapping.

She pushed aside the unwelcome memories and gave a weak laugh. “I don’t even know the man, Ellie.”

“That young man didn’t even have the decency to hide his infatuation. He was way too bold, if you ask me,” Ellie insisted as she steadily beelined for a towering pine tree, its tall, weighted branches stretching wide. Cautiously sidestepping exposed roots, she turned and leaned heavily
against the trunk, her cheeks flushed as though she’d just walked miles.

“Miss Ellickson, is my wife fussing over you like an old mother hen?” Aaron teased from behind her.

She turned to see an amused, boyish grin plastered across Aaron’s face. Bowing her head, she took in the invigorating scent of fresh pine needles beneath her feet. “She’s just keeping a watchful eye on things.”

“I’m not the only one keeping an eye on things.” Ellie hooked an arm through her husband’s, snuggling up next to him. “Darling, you’re going to have to speak with Ethan Hofmann. He’s acting like a foolish schoolboy. He could hardly take his eyes off Katie during church.” When she hooked Katie’s arm also, Katie couldn’t help but smile.

Aaron winked at her as he patted his wife’s hand. “I’m sure Katie can take care of herself.”

Katie swallowed hard and schooled her expression. Had Aaron known how brutally untrue those words really were he never would’ve said them. She’d tried to fight Frank Fowler off, but her meager five feet four inches was no match to Frank’s size and his evil determination.

“But if you ever do need help or have any concerns, Katie, just let Ben, Zach or me know. Joseph, too. He may not be able to see right now, but he’s always had a way of bringing order to things without bruising a single knuckle. People around these parts think twice about crossing him.”

Ellie sighed, slumping her shoulders. “Well, I still think you should talk with Ethan about this. After all, Katie’s a young, beautiful
unmarried
woman. The single men around here seem to lose all common sense when it comes to someone like her.”

Giving Ellie’s hand a warm squeeze, Katie pulled away. “It’s fine. I didn’t notice the man.”

That was true. She hadn’t noticed him because she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Joseph.

Glancing momentarily back at the church, she spotted him standing alone, and her heartbeat quickened inside her chest.

“Ellie-girl, I think you’ve about worn yourself out for one day,” Aaron cautioned in a most gentle and loving way. “I’m gonna get you back home where you can rest. And don’t you go arguing with me either.” Katie turned to see Aaron wrap an arm around his wife’s slight shoulders, then gently settled her back against the tree. “Stay here while I check on Joseph, then we’ll be on our way.”