Rocky Mountain Oasis (8 page)

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Authors: Lynnette Bonner

Tags: #historical romance, #Christian historical fiction, #General, #Romance, #Christian Fiction, #Christian romance, #Inspirational romance, #Clean Romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Rocky Mountain Oasis
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Her head nodded and she jerked it up, hoping Sky had not noticed. What would he think of her? She had slept in this morning, only to be falling asleep not an hour down the road! She wanted to sing to keep herself awake but was too embarrassed, so she had to content herself with pinching her arm every few seconds. But the pinching didn’t work very well and her head nodded for a second time.

Sky slipped one arm around her, pulling her back against his chest and pressing her head back onto his shoulder. “Rest.”

Everything in her urged resistance, but it felt so good to lean back and relax that she gave up the fight.

“That’s better,” He whispered in her ear, “Go to sleep. You’ve had a long couple of days.”

Brooke didn’t awaken until they splashed across a creek. She opened her eyes, perplexed for a moment, then realized how heavily she was leaning on Sky and jolted upright. Hoping she had not caused him undue discomfort, she sat forward and looked around, realizing they had leveled out at the top of the ridge. A long gently rolling plain stretched before her, golden heads of grain nodding in the breeze. Interspersed here and there amongst the grain, clusters of yellow pine stood in stark contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky beyond. A single white cloud traced its way through the blue, drawing Brooke’s eyes upward.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“Welcome home.” Sky’s words were soft. “The house is just beyond that knoll.” He pointed up ahead.

Brooke wondered at the word
home.
Would this place ever really feel like a home to her? How long would she be here? Would this man who had married her find she wasn’t satisfactory and send her back to Uncle Jackson, demanding his money back? Or, worse yet, would he simply abandon her, leaving her to her own fate? That’s what Uncle Jackson would do. She pondered these questions until they topped the knoll that Sky had indicated and he reined the horse to a stop.

She could see a small log cabin nestled amongst some trees setting back against the rise of a hill. Off to the left stood another structure that she assumed to be the barn, a corral extending off the side. Several chickens pecked and scratched in the grass, looking for choice morsels, and a cow lowed from the barn.

Sky had started down the hill now and she turned her attention back to the house. It had at least two windows, one on the front to the left of the door and one around the left side of the house. The house faced south, she noted with satisfaction, so there would be plenty of sunlight during the day. The covered porch had a split-log rail along the front and sides with a break in the middle where the stairs led up to the door. A pile of wood was stacked on the porch to the right of the door. At the back of the house she could make out the top of a rock chimney.

Everything in sight looked neat and clean, from the evenly trimmed shrubs at the corners of the house and the carefully swept yard, to the cedar shakes on the roof that were free of moss and other lichens.

She sighed, now knowing she would have the strength to endure this man. She had hoped the man she was pledged to marry would be clean and hard working. She had even dared, on a few occasions, to hope he would not be cruel. But no matter what came her way, this house was enough. It would be her refuge. She loved it already. She would take time to find joy in this one little thing. A nice home. It was enough to bolster her belief in her own strength and ability to persevere.

She was only just now in her relief and thankfulness beginning to see what a toll the stress from this situation had taken on her. She had not been herself since Uncle Jackson had come to her and told her she would be traveling west in two weeks’ time to be married to a man she had never met. She had reasoned it would be doubly humiliating to be beaten and bruised by a total stranger. But at least the pain of having loved him would not be there, she tried to comfort herself.

Sky pulled the black stallion to a stop in the yard in front of the house. Sliding agilely off the back of the horse he came to her side and offered her a hand. She slid to the ground but immediately realized that her leg, which had been wrapped around the saddle horn, had fallen asleep. Knowing she would fall on her face if she tried to move, she tried to look casual as she stood unmoving on her good leg glancing around the yard, but Sky eyed her questioningly as he untied her bag from the saddle.

Turning to her, he took her elbow and stepped toward the house. When she didn’t move, he stopped and raised an eyebrow.

“My leg—” she gestured helplessly—“fell asleep. I’ll be able to move in a second.”

Without hesitation he set her bag on the ground and swept her up into his arms. Her heart lurched as her arms reflexively clasped about his neck.

Carrying her up the steps and across the threshold of the house, he grinned down at her. “I guess this is the way newlyweds should enter their home anyway.”

To cover her fear and confusion she scanned the interior of the little cabin. The single room functioned as kitchen, dining room, living room, and bedroom all in one. To the right of the doorway against the front wall of the house was a small square table with two straight-back chairs at opposite sides, and a window just behind it on the side wall. A cupboard sat on the floor at the rear right corner, its back to the side wall. Above it hung a shelf stacked with several pots and pans, some dishes, and a pile of poorly folded white towels. Pegs drilled into the wall below the shelf held an assortment of utensils and a metal wash basin. On top of the cupboard sat two crocks.

In the middle of the back wall stood a rotund wood stove, a copper kettle on its polished black surface. Behind it, and on the floor underneath, a rock facade of white quartz stones mortared together formed a fire shield. The mantle had been constructed of flat rocks set into the wall horizontally.
It’s beautiful
, she thought as her eyes continued to scan the room.

To the left of the stove was the room’s only bed. A colorful quilt smoothly spread over it, and there was a window just above it. To the left of the door were a cane chair and a loveseat that looked to have been made from stripped ash. The color of the wood was exquisite, but the chairs didn’t look very comfortable since they had no cushions. The room’s third window graced the wall by the cane chairs, casting a brilliant pool of light on the plank floor.

She finished her perusal of the interior as Sky set her into one of the chairs at the dining table. He sat across from her and began to stack a scattered group of letters. “I want you to make yourself at home here.” He gestured to the cupboard. “There is food in the cupboard as well as in the cellar out back. I will give you a tour of the place as soon as I take care of the stock. If you find that there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. Pierce City is not too far away and we can get some things there, but it may be that I will have to make a trip to Lewiston.” He shrugged, glancing around the room. “It’s not much, I suppose, but I hope you will be comfortable.”

She tried to smile reassuringly. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

With that he stood, set the bundled stack of letters on the mantle, and went outside. Returning a few moments later, he set her bag inside the door along with another small satchel she had not noticed before. When he went back out to take care of the stock, Brooke realized she hadn’t moved since he had placed her in her chair. Her leg was no longer asleep, so she had no excuse, but she felt dazed. She still couldn’t believe this man had not mistreated her in any way…had not even spoken roughly. Shrugging, she tried to push away these thoughts.

Getting up, she crossed to the cupboard, remembering it was past noon and Sky would probably be hungry; she knew hunger pangs gnawed at her. Finding some bread, butter, and a chunk of dried meat, she made some sandwiches, placing them on two of the speckled, black tin plates.

She was tempted to go ahead and eat without him but decided it would be better to wait. He came in a little while later and eyed the fare hungrily. “Would you like some milk?” he asked.

“Yes, that would be nice. I thought of going to look for the cellar but didn’t know where to start.”

“I’ll be right back. We can eat, and then I will show you around the place. Sound good?”

She nodded, setting two of the tin cups on the table by their plates.

When he had returned with the milk, he sat down and glanced across the table, holding out his hand to her. She eyed his hand and he said, “When I was growing up, we always held hands around the table as we said grace. Do you mind?” His tone was not condescending, merely questioning.

She placed her small hand in his palm and bowed her head, but as he began to pray, she studied him with surprise.

His prayer was not a memorized text but a true communion of the heart with God, giving Him thanks for the food, for Brooke’s safety as she had traveled, and for their future together as husband and wife. He prayed that God would lead them, guiding them closer to Him, and then closed in Jesus’ name.

He picked up his sandwich and had it halfway to his mouth when he evidently noted her surprise.

She wanted to hide her emotion but something held her in check. “Do you really believe God cares?”

“Yes, I do. The Bible says He does.” His eyes showed genuine interest in her question.

“And so if the Bible says it, that makes it so?” Her tone held more than a little sarcasm.

Sky set his sandwich back on his plate. “Yes.” It was a simple statement of faith. “Brooke, I want to talk to you about this morning.”

She had not expected this so soon. Picking up her sandwich, she took a bite. Her past and how it related to her reaction this morning was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Trying to keep her face free of emotion, she chewed slowly.

Sky raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you’ve been through in the past, but I could tell by your reaction to me this morning that it probably hasn’t been pleasant.” He watched her intently.

She took another bite of sandwich, trying to ignore the pain squeezing her heart.

“I just want to tell you again that I would never,” he paused,
“will
never hit or abuse you in any way. I meant what I said to you last night; I will not touch you until you say it’s okay.” He placed his hands on the table. “I will not touch you in
any
way. Understand?”

Brooke hated the tears that pooled in her eyes. She nodded mutely, but her skepticism rose to the fore.
The probability of his keeping his word is about as good as finding an oasis in the middle of a desert.

He sat back, apparently satisfied, but still eyed her as though unable to tell what she was thinking.

She blinked the tears away and turned back to her food, as did he. Finishing his sandwich in five bites, he got up and made himself two more. Brooke, somewhat wide-eyed, made a note to make him several sandwiches in the future and hoped he wouldn’t be too irritated that she had not done so this time.

Sky watched Brooke as she took in the cellar he’d just shown to her. Cut back into the side of the hill behind the house, it had large heavy doors that kept the room cool on the hottest of summer days and provided enough insulation so that even on very cold winter days the milk did not freeze.

As he waited for her, he contemplated their earlier conversation. “Do you really believe God cares?” she had asked.
Lord, I don’t know what this woman has been through in the past, but it’s obviously been painful for her. Help me to be able to show her Your love. Bring her to know You, Lord. And help me to be thankful. Help me to see the good side of things—not just the inconvenient, uncomfortable side. There are things to be thankful for; please open my mind to them. Help me to be sensitive to this woman. To be kind, thoughtful, and caring. Help me to see Your blessings, Lord. Bring us through this difficult time
.

He stared off at the surrounding countryside. Things to be thankful for...
at least I like her.
She could have been loud, pushy, and boisterous, or demure, coy, and deceitful but none of these qualities evidenced themselves. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, a protective spirit had risen in him. She was somehow like a wounded animal he needed to nurture back to health. Her blue-green eyes wore a hunted, fearful look that he wanted to soothe.

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