Song of Her Heart (5 page)

Mason was impelled to see Norah settled safely for the night. He went into the house with her, checked the phone and found that it still wasn't in service.

“You have my cell phone, so you can telephone if you need to,” he said. She looked rather forlorn standing in the middle of the big dining room, and he said, “Are you sure you're all right?”

“I'm ashamed to admit this, but I know it's going to get dark soon, and I'm afraid. I've always lived in the city, where it never gets dark. Just telling you about it makes me realize how foolish I sound. I'm determined to stay here. I
will
be all right,” she said as if she was trying to convince herself.

“There's a security light in the yard. It won't be completely dark, and you can leave lights on in the house. But you're welcome to stay at the Flying K until you adjust to being in the country.”

Forcing a smile, Norah said, “You have work to
do, so go back to the ranch and don't worry about me. I agreed to do this job, and I'm going to stay here alone tonight if it kills me. If I ever go to work on the mission field, I'll probably spend many nights alone.”

Mason was becoming fond of Norah, perhaps too fond for his own good. It troubled him every time she mentioned her desire to become a missionary, because it seemed to drive an insurmountable wedge between them. Such a decision should be kept between Norah and God, and he was determined that he wouldn't interfere. Better to keep his emotions and thoughts to himself until Norah came to terms with her future.

“You'll be safe enough, and I can be here in a short time if you need me.”

“You hired me to be a cook. It isn't your responsibility to be my guardian.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, intending to lead him toward the door. She might as well have tried to move Mount Rushmore. He didn't budge until he was ready.

“Keep the cell phone handy, and let me know if you're uneasy.” He looked at her keenly, a sense of wonderment in his eyes. “I've had a great day.”

“So did I, Mason. It's a day I'll never forget.”

T
he Bar 8 ranch house seemed as quiet as a tomb after Mason left, but with dogged determination, Norah stored her groceries in the cabinets and refrigerators and made a Caesar salad. The large dining room intimidated her, and she sat on a stool at the long work island in the center of the kitchen to eat her meal. Instead of thinking about the silence around her, she forced herself to concentrate on the day she'd spent with Mason.

She'd enjoyed the beautiful scenery, so different from her Missouri countryside, but more than that, it had been pleasant to be in Mason's company. Until today, she hadn't realized how satisfying male company could be. Mason was a good companion, and for a moment, she contemplated what it would
be like to spend the rest of her life with someone like him. At that point, she stopped her speculation. When she was younger, Norah had looked forward to marriage, but always with a man who shared her interest in overseas missions. Mason King wasn't that man, and she had to discourage any flights of fancy about lifelong companionship with him.

Norah washed the few dishes by hand rather than use the large dishwasher. She locked every door and window on the first floor and turned out all the lights except the one on the front porch. She dropped Mason's cell phone in her pocket and went upstairs to settle in, closing all the draperies on the second floor.

The four bedrooms were equal in size, so Norah had chosen the one with a view of the rangeland. The rooms were sparsely furnished. To make the room more like her crowded bedroom at home, she moved a platform rocker and footstool in from another room.

Mason had hooked up her television on a low table, and she angled the screen so she could watch from the bed or from the rocker. She laid her Bible on the bedside table and placed her crochet bag by the chair. For years, Norah had been making scarves and mittens for unfortunate children in the United States and overseas. Her current project was cro
cheting cardigans for newborns of low-income single mothers.

Tonight Norah wasn't in the mood for crocheting or television, and she picked up the Bible. Soon she would have to search for Scriptural guidance to deal with her conflicting emotions about Mason, but tonight she had to come to grips with her fear of darkness.

It wasn't difficult to figure out what had caused her fears. Her own mother had been afraid of darkness due to a frightening childhood experience. It had never been completely dark in the Williamson household, because streetlights were numerous. On the occasions when a power outage occurred, her mother had chased away the darkness with candles and lamplight. Norah's siblings had mastered their phobias when they left home for college, and Norah was determined that she would, too.

The Bible was Norah's guide for all situations, and she checked out references to darkness. She didn't want to talk to herself, but reading Scripture out loud would be an antidote to her fear, so she read in a strong voice, “‘You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.”' The sound of her voice did make the silence more bearable.

David, king of Israel, had written those words when he was praising God for victory over his en
emies. David believed that, with God's help, he could overcome any obstacle. If David was that confident in the power of God, surely Norah could use that same faith and power to banish her own particular problem.

When she further read aloud the words of Jesus, “‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life,”' Norah knew that unreasonable fear was inconsistent with her Christian faith. Remembering other hurdles God had helped her conquer gave Norah courage to trust Him to sustain her on the Bar 8 ranch through the night.

Norah laid aside the Bible, but in spite of all the Scriptural assurances she'd read, as she prepared for bed, the quietness and darkness were still intimidating. Who would ever have thought that she would long for the sound of a car driving by? Or the racket of the CDs her young neighbor played at deafening tones? She pulled open the draperies and opened the window, but she heard nothing except a cow bawling in the distance. What a difference a few days had made in her environment! The tomblike silence was so penetrating that she jumped when the phone rang.

“Just checking to see if you were all right before I hit the hay,” Mason said when she picked up the phone.

“All locked in nice and tight,” she answered, a lilt in her voice. “I've been reading the Bible, trying to put my hang-ups about nighttime to rest. It's working. I'll be fine in a day or two. I'm slow to adjust to new situations.”

“What are you planning for tomorrow?”

“I intend to call the offices of H & H and learn what their schedule will be and what they expect of me. After that, I'll start planning menus.”

“Sounds like a dull day to me,” he said, chuckling. “I have an idea to help you overcome your fear of the night.”

“What is it?” she said hesitantly.

“There'll be a full moon tomorrow night. I'd like to take you to a place without any light except the moon and the stars. The beauty of the night will be so wonderful, you won't think about being afraid. How does that sound?”

It sounded as if she would be putting a lot of confidence in Mason King if she went with him into an unknown area surrounded by darkness.

But instead of voicing her doubts, Norah said, “Interesting. Sort of like a therapy session, huh?”

“Maybe. I'll build a campfire and cook our meal just like the old-timers used to do it. We'll go on horseback.”

A silence greeted his remark. “Uh…” Norah stalled. “I don't know.”

“You don't know what?”

“There's one little hitch in your plan. I've never ridden a horse.”

“Never ridden a horse!”

Norah stifled a hoot of laughter. Mason's shock was as great as it might have been if she'd admitted she'd never brushed her teeth.

Mason had been given his own pony when he was five years old, and he'd ridden behind his father for as long as he could remember. Hardly believing he'd heard her correctly, he asked, “You aren't afraid of horses, too?”

His agitation amused Norah, and she could no longer restrain her laughter as she teased, “No. I'm just a city greenhorn.”

“We could take the truck, but that would spoil the atmosphere,” Mason offered, and Norah sensed his disappointment.

“If you have some old nag that won't pitch me off, I'm willing to try. There's not much to riding, is there?”

Mason knew he had a problem on his hands, but he said patiently, “There's a
lot
to riding, and I can't teach you riding skills in one evening. But you come prepared to ride, and we'll manage. It will be a short ride.”

“Deal! What time do you want me to come?”

“About six o'clock. We'll ride to our destination,
cook the meal and let the darkness close in around us. You'll enjoy it.”

“Well…maybe. At least I'm game to try it. Thanks, Mason.” She hung up.

Norah turned out the light and stretched fulllength under the blanket. Her heart was singing. She no longer felt afraid, for she knew Mason was as close as the telephone. And God was close, too. Norah turned on her side, facing the opaqueness outside her window, repeating the words of the Psalmist. “‘At night His song shall be with me.”'

Gradually, Norah realized that the room was flooded with moonlight. From her bed, she saw the moon hovering above the Bar 8, signifying that the God of creation was very near.

 

Using the toll-free number Sheila gave her, Norah telephoned the H & H offices the next afternoon. She had a helpful conversation with Jim Hanson, the athletic director of the therapy program, who would be staying at the Bar 8 ranch throughout the summer.

Jim told her there would be three four-week sessions, the first one to start the first week in June, the last one ending the last week in August, with a week-long break for the Fourth of July. There would be approximately six children each session, with an average of two or more volunteers for each rider.

In addition to Jim, a nurse, Carolyn Turner, would be a full-time employee. The other workers would be unpaid volunteers, some for the whole summer, others a few weeks at a time. Each session would deal with three different types of disabilities—one for blind children, one for the physically impaired, the other for children with mental disabilities. Two children would be housed together in a room with one adult volunteer.

“Since this is a pilot program,” Jim explained, “we'll be learning as we go.”

Norah would be expected to provide three meals each day for at least twenty people. Breakfast would be served at eight o'clock, lunch at noon and dinner at six o'clock in the evening. Norah's wages were included in the fee H & H paid Mason for use of his ranch facilities and horses. But the organization would issue vouchers for the groceries, pay the utilities and hire Sheila to help in the kitchen and dining room. The children would go home on weekends, leaving Friday afternoon and returning on Monday morning.

“But as I mentioned,” Jim said, “this is a new undertaking for all of us, so I hope you can adapt your schedule as we find it necessary.”

“I'll do my best,” Norah said, “but I've never cooked for so many people over an extended period. The first weeks will be experimental for me, too.”

“I'm sure we'll get along fine,” Jim said. “Hopefully, the program will be so successful that the project will be funded for many years to come. Our long-range goal is to expand the program to include adults with disabilities, too.”

“Whew!” Norah said aloud when she finished the conversation. It sounded like a busy summer, but she welcomed the tight schedule. Providing three meals each day, starting to cook before six o'clock and finishing only in time to go to bed and start the same schedule over again, would hopefully get her mind off Mason.

Thoughts of Mason had a tendency to disrupt the work she'd come to Nebraska to do. When she tried to plan menus for the H & H children, she found herself staring into space thinking of Mason. His winning smile, his compassionate nature and his captivating presence had dominated her dreams and trespassed on her daytime hours. It had to stop!

Determined to exert more self-control, Norah carried her box of recipe books into the kitchen and placed them on a convenient shelf near the stove. She needed to plan and buy supplies for at least two weeks. It wouldn't be easy cooking meals to suit both children and adults. Jim had told her that, for this first session, they had chosen children without dietary limitations so she wouldn't need to be concerned about providing special dishes. Although the
first four weeks would tend to be trial and error, once she had those meals planned, she could use the same menus for the next two sessions.

As she spent the afternoon planning, she tried to remember the foods her siblings liked when they were younger. Thinking about them saddened her. Not only had she lost her father and disabled brother, she'd lost the others, too.

While her father lived, she'd gone overboard to maintain harmony in the family. Even when she believed her siblings were imposing on her, she took it with a smile because she didn't want to disturb her father. But now she was alienated from her remaining family.

The family property had been willed to her without any strings, but had she been wrong to put the home up for sale? Had Sam been right when he'd told her that their father had intended for her to keep it intact for the family to use? If that was so, why hadn't her father told her that, or at least provided sufficient funds for its upkeep?

She'd received a monthly compensation from her father for the housekeeping duties, but upon his death, that income had ceased. The house was old and large, and in constant need of repairs. If she kept the property, her meager savings would soon be depleted.

Besides, she wanted a new life. If she couldn't
become an overseas missionary at this late date, she hoped for a profession of some kind rather than spending her senior years as an unpaid baby-sitter for her nieces and nephews.

It disturbed Norah that she hadn't apologized to her brother and sisters, but how could she when she didn't believe she had been unfair to them? She did remember that Jesus had told His followers if anyone had been treated unjustly, the one who had been wronged should initiate reconciliation. Perhaps she would do that, but her emotional pain was too raw right now to make the first move.

But she felt completely cut off from her previous life. Was that the reason she'd taken to Mason so quickly? Maybe at the end of the summer, she would contact her siblings and ask forgiveness, but in the meantime, she would spend her time ministering to children whose problems were certainly worse than hers. She prayed that in helping others, she would also find healing.

By five o'clock, she laid her books and schedules aside and prepared for her get-together with Mason. She'd noticed that the temperature dropped quickly as soon as the sun set, so she put on a heavy pair of jeans, and a blouse with a sweatshirt over it. She wore woolen socks under a pair of leather boots.

She debated over what to wear on her head, but finally decided on a narrow-brimmed hat that she'd
worn when she worked in the flower gardens. She tied a scarf around her neck, which might come in handy if the wind was too strong to wear the hat. With a lot of anticipation, and some apprehension, she set out for the Flying K ranch.