To Win Her Heart (21 page)

A rock-toter.
The image seized Eden by the throat and shook her until the scales finally fell from her eyes. All at once she could feel the weight of the stone in her hand as if it were physically present. Large. Heavy. Her fingers barely long enough to curl around its edges.

Then, in her mind’s eye, she saw Levi standing on her porch, asking to see her after she’d read the letter. She’d refused, hurling her first stone against his shoulder. He’d rubbed the spot but returned to knock again the next day. And she’d thrown another rock, this time connecting with his ribs. He kept coming back, and she kept pitching stones, her aim getting deadlier with each toss. Until today when she finally pulverized his heart.

The shock in his eyes when she told him not to touch her crashed through her mind—much like the look of a man who’d just received a bullet to the chest and could only register a flash of disbelief before life drained out of him.

“Levi,” she moaned. “Oh, Levi. I’m so sorry.”

Eden covered her face with her hands and wept. How could she have been so callous? So self-absorbed? Never once had she thought about how he might be feeling. Never once had she considered that he had given her a precious gift in trusting her with his secrets. No, she’d been too busy trampling that gift with her self-preservation efforts.

Never once had she let herself contemplate that God had forgiven Levi’s past and helped him create a new identity in Christ, just as he had done for Paul. For admitting such a thing would strip away her justifications and leave her vulnerable. And that prospect was too terrifying to bear.

And therein lay the crux of her problem. She didn’t trust God to direct her steps. When trouble loomed, she altered her course, convincing herself she was displaying wisdom and the courage of her convictions. Yet in actuality, she was surrendering to fear, letting it control her in place of the Lord’s hand.

Forgive me, Father.

Eden dried her face with her sleeve, sniffed a few times, and then slid off the edge of the bed to kneel upon the rug like she had as a child saying bedtime prayers.

I failed to seek your will, didn’t I? I let fear cast out love instead of trusting your perfect love to cast out my fear.

Eyes closed, Eden let her forehead drift down to rest on the mattress. She wanted to explain her sin, to offer excuses for her behavior, but for once, she shoved her justifications aside and simply prostrated herself before her Lord. She’d spent enough time in the self-righteous robes of the Pharisee. Time to find the humility of the tax collector.

“God have mercy,” she whispered.

How could her heart have hardened so quickly? She loved Levi, admired him for his spiritual strength and his physical restraint. A man who had not fully surrendered his brutish ways would have fought back when attacked. Yet despite his size and the certain knowledge that he could flatten his weaker opponent with one well-aimed fist, Levi had not swung a single punch at Mr. Wilson the day the man had accosted him at the smithy. And in the bank that same week, he’d gone out of his way not to provoke the angry men that stormed the building, even after one of them threw a chair at him. All he did was see to her protection.

Levi was a man who took in abused dogs, rescued girls from saloon alleys, and donated most of a week’s income toward the purchase of prison Bibles.

Prison Bibles
. The ache in Eden’s breast intensified. No wonder he was so eager to contribute. It was in prison that he rediscovered his faith and recommitted himself to the Lord. Snippets of his letter came back to her, parts that had faded into the shadows the first time, invisible behind the glaring accounts of his prizefighting.

Opening her eyes, she twisted toward her bureau and rummaged through the top drawer until she found the letter. Eden rearranged her skirts and sat on the floor, leaning her back against the bed. She reread every word he had written, this time ignoring the shock of the violence in order to focus on the quieter message. Her heart grieved for the boy he had been, teased for his speech until he started fighting for respect with his fists. She heard his regret over the way he left his family, turning his back on his father’s training to pursue a self-serving way of life. And this time when she read the account of how his blow unintentionally killed a man, she felt
his
horror instead of her own.

Had she been guilty of the same offense? Had she killed the love that had been growing gently between them with the callous blow she’d delivered as they’d stood in a
church
? She saw again his bowed head as he pressed his palm into the pecan tree and the way he stepped away as if saying a final good-bye.

Please, God. Let it not be too late.

She had to go to him. Now. Too much time had already been wasted.

Eden shot to her feet. She vaguely remembered Verna’s voice calling her to lunch but had no idea how long ago that had been. The afternoon could be half over.

Without further thought, she dropped the letter onto her bed and threw open the door. As she dashed down the stairs, she nearly collided with Chloe, who was ascending with a plate of roast beef, vegetables, and bread. Eden yanked her skirt back just in time to avoid getting gravy on her bronze silk.

“Miss Eden,” Chloe gasped. “I was bringing you something to eat.”

“Don’t have time.” Eden squeezed past her on the narrow stairway. “I’ll eat later.” She was nearly to the bottom when Chloe’s worried voice stopped her.

“Are you all right?”

Eden turned back to look at her.

The girl ducked her head, her thumbs fidgeting along the edge of the plate. “I . . . uh . . . I shouldn’t a said those things. It weren’t my place. I’m sorry.”

Eden bounced back up the three stairs she’d just come down and clasped Chloe’s shoulders. “Don’t be sorry. Not for any of it.”

The girl glanced up, and Eden smiled. “I needed someone to wake me up, and God chose you for the job.”

“God chose
me
?” The wonder and confusion on Chloe’s face broadened Eden’s grin.

“Yes, he did. And you executed his plan perfectly. Now I’ve got to do my part.” Eden released Chloe’s arms and charged toward the front door, sparing no time to collect her bonnet.

Stretching her legs into the longest stride she could manage, she hurried down Main Street toward the smithy. The wide double doors were chained shut, so she circled around to the back, determined not to let anything keep her from making her overdue apology. The back door stood partially open, but everything was dark inside.

“Levi?” She pushed the door wider, its creak echoing in the silent shop. As she listened, a rhythmic tapping sounded from within. It came closer, and Eden’s heart raced.

“Levi? Is that you?”

The tapping sped up. Eden backed away. As she grabbed her skirts to flee, a gray head emerged, its viscious jaws spread wide in a deadly . . . yawn?

“Ornery! You scared me out of my wits.” Eden’s chastisement dissolved in a giggle as the dog finished his tongue-lagging yawn with a guttural whine and padded up to her, his nails no longer tapping as he left the wooden floorboards of the shop behind.

“Crazy mutt.” She smiled and bent down to rub his ears. “So, I guess Levi’s not here?”

Ornery stretched a foreleg out in front of him. Eden wanted to think he was pointing a direction but knew he was simply getting the kinks out from his nap. She patted his side a couple times, then straightened. Levi had never mentioned anyplace in particular that he liked to spend his time. Well, except the library.

Eden frowned, ashamed of the way she’d barred him and everyone else from the reading room in order to hide away from her problems. What a coward she’d been. But no more. Eden grabbed hold of her skirts and marched back around to the street. She would find Levi and apologize. She’d not shy away from him or anyone else, no matter how awkward the conversation. Levi deserved the best she could offer, and if her best wasn’t good enough to win back his favor, maybe it could at least repair their friendship.

There was only one other location she could think of to look for him, and it would be a bit of a hike in Sunday silks and her dress boots with the high French heels, but the urgency inside her compelled her forward.

After the mile and a half hike to the Barnes’ homestead, that urgency remained firm, even though everything else on her had wilted. Her chignon flopped loose and off center against her neck, perspiration clung to places it had no right to cling, and her feet screamed for a soak in a tub of cool water, but she pressed on.

The only trepidation came when she stood on the front stoop of the Barnes home and raised her hand to knock. A hummingbird took flight in her stomach, and the arm that had swung so purposely at her side a moment before now quivered with uncertainty.

Would he refuse to see her, as she had done him? What if he sent her away?

“Don’t back out now, Eden,” she whispered under her breath. Then, before any other questions could pop up to plague her, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

Mercifully, Georgia answered quickly. Eden had barely exhaled two steadying breaths before the door opened.

“Eden?” Georgia’s gaze moved up and down taking in her bedraggled state, the woman’s brows knitting together more tightly the longer she stared. “Has something happened?” She glanced past Eden’s shoulder at the buggy-less yard. “Goodness, girl. Did you walk all the way out here from town?”

“Yes.” Eden swallowed. “I need to speak to Levi. Is he here? It’s a rather pressing matter.”

Georgia pulled the door wide and gestured for Eden to enter. “He’s here. Fool man’s been out back choppin’ wood as if winter hadn’t already bowed out to spring.” She shook her head. “He’s nearly worked through that pile of mesquite Claude cleared off the north acreage last fall. I’m worried he’ll take after my peach trees next. I may have to ask Claude to hide the ax.”

Eden managed to smile at the jest, but Georgia must have seen the anxiety in her eyes, for she steered her toward a small parlor to the right. “Have a seat, honey. I’ll go fetch him for you. Might take him a few minutes to wash up, but I’ll let him know it’s important.”

“No. Please don’t trouble yourself. I’ll go find him.” She couldn’t stand the thought of sitting still and waiting for him to come. It would be too easy for him to have her sent away. If she caught him unaware, he might be more inclined to listen. Besides, she doubted he had told Claude and Georgia all the details of his past. And if he hadn’t, she didn’t want to risk one of them accidentally overhearing their conversation. Perhaps they would handle the truth better than she had, but she’d made things difficult enough for Levi without running the chance of his landlord evicting him due to his felonious past.

Georgia gave her another odd look, but she didn’t argue. “All right, then. Come through the kitchen. I’ll fix up a glass of water for you to take out to him.” She gave Eden another raised-brow inspection. “Looks like you could use one, too.”

This time, Eden’s smile curved with more enthusiasm. “Thank you, Georgia,” she said as she reached up to tidy her hair. “That sounds wonderful.” She didn’t have time to do much more than reposition a few pins, but at least the twist she had fashioned that morning no longer flopped around like one of Ornery’s ears.

Accepting the filled water glasses, Eden headed out to the porch, stealing a sip from hers as she proceeded across the yard. The cool liquid refreshed her parched throat and gave her dry mouth some much-needed moisture. She followed the loud cracks of wood splitting, navigating the hard-packed path that led to the barn. After circling the side, she caught sight of Levi standing over the chopping stump. He’d shed his shirt, draping it atop the corral post near the lean-to that sheltered a stack of firewood that already reached the low roof. She couldn’t imagine where he planned to fit all the pieces that were strewn on the ground at his feet.

As she watched, he grasped a large log and dropped it onto the stump. He raised the ax, and Eden’s mouth dried again at the play of muscles across his back and shoulders. So strong, yet so controlled. He was no brute. He was beautiful.

Not even the scars detracted. They made her heart throb in sympathy over the pain he had endured, but they no longer darkened her opinion of him. God used those stripes to humble him, Levi had said in his letter, so that he would be receptive to the prison chaplain’s message. How could she not love them as a part of this faithful man who had won her heart?

And how could she put off for another minute what her heart urged her to say?

After he swung a second time to split the log, Eden stepped closer. Taking a breath, and praying for guidance, she parted her lips. “Levi?”

He straightened from his bent position, his movements so slow Eden felt each second tick by. A chunk of split wood dangled from his left hand, the ax hung suspended in his right, but he did not turn to face her.

“I brought you some water.” She extended the glass to him even though he couldn’t see it. Recognizing the foolishness of the gesture, she pulled her arm back.