Vow Unbroken (13 page)

He really had barely tolerated Levi. The kid's rudeness, his suspicion and resentment, his sarcasm didn't sit too well either. But then, the young fellow had never had a man in his life, at least not since he was old enough to remember. Henry stepped back and handed the ax to Levi again. “Want to take him on down?”

“I'd like that.”

After fifteen more whacks, the oak fell exactly as planned. Henry walked to the log and pointed to a spot about two feet from the end. “Now we need to cut him off here.”

The boy spit on his hands, rubbed them together, then hefted the ax. “Yes, sir.”

Henry liked all the yes, sirs. Maybe he'd misjudged the boy. When the chips stopped flying quite as fast as before, he took the ax. “Get a blow and a dipper of water if you're of a mind to.”

“You want one?”

Henry nodded, then went to work. Shame he'd not included a crosscut saw on his list, but he hadn't, so he continued swinging the ax. Soon enough, the boy returned with the dipper.

“Aunt Sue said dinner would be ready in a few minutes.”

Henry drained the water, then nodded, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to finish this one before we eat?”

“Might as well. How many more chops you think he'll take?”

“Hopefully only one more, but the doing will tell.”

After too many swings to count, Henry and the boy had the stump cut off. “What say we sit a spell and eat some beans and fried rabbit? You game?”

“Yes, sir.”

There it was again. Maybe shooting the bear had changed Levi's attitude somehow. Henry would have to think on it some. Whatever the reason, he appreciated it. Like his mama always said, it never hurt to show some respect.

After too short a dinner break, it took Henry and the boy almost twice as long to get the next chunk of the oak cut and split. Henry wiped his brow, then studied the west sky. Not
much daylight left. “I think we're ready, but best we wait until morning and get a fresh start on it. What do you think?”

Levi, who looked worse than Henry felt, stood a bit taller, then nodded. “I'm with you. Time we got the mules hitched and everything in place, it'd be nigh onto dark-thirty.”

Henry swung the ax one-handed into the end of the log, then released it. “Or later.” He smiled. “I'm plum tuckered.”

That night while he waited for sleep to find him, Henry contemplated the boy's change in manner and the lack of protest from Sue when he'd informed her that they were knocking off early. The look in her eyes belied the words that came out of her mouth. He figured she'd swallowed a scalding protest. Apparently, though, he looked even worse than the boy.

He resolved to be nicer to Levi, treat him more like a man than a boy. That thought gave way to the first time he'd seen the kid—only knee high to a grasshopper—with his aunt at the trading post four years back. His favorite image of Sue came next: her standing on the porch watching a storm blow in. A powerful breeze caught her hair and sent it flowing out behind her, but she leaned a bit into the wind. How many times had he fallen asleep studying on that remembrance?

The weather didn't seem to faze her; there'd been no fear in those beautiful eyes.

That vision of her standing there had frozen in his mind. Nothing he'd heard or seen of her since had changed his first impression of what a beautiful, fine, strong-willed lady she was.

A
FTER GETTING DINNER READY,
Sue had used her time to clean up a little, and had decided to change into her skirt. With all the pondering her being alone allowed, the thought that Henry had been divinely handpicked to accompany her tickled its way through her considerations. Well, she had most definitely been wrong about him being soft and lazy. He worked hard, and no one could say he wasn't polite. She couldn't have been more mistaken about the man if she'd tried.

That he'd agreed to come after she insulted him with her honest-work comment proved the provision to be divinely influenced. She had no doubt now that she needed his help, but it would certainly be easier if he could act like less of a king. And she wished there was some way she could lead him to accept the Lord. Surely, that was a part of God's plan.

As soon as Becky fell asleep, Sue pulled her own pallet out a bit from under the wagon to look at the stars. They always reminded her of what a big God she served. A million brilliant, twinkling lights studded the dark sky and took her breath away; they did every time.

They always took her back to the first night she and Andy
had slept out under the stars as man and wife, made her feel close to him. More love than sense had driven them into the adventure of starting their life together in the new territory.

If only her father had given his blessing when Andrew asked and not made her choose between them. Why couldn't he understand she didn't have time to wait? Maybe then her husband would still be alive, and Becky would have known what it was like to have a daddy. Sue deserved whatever God meted out for her rebellion, even losing her husband after only a year. But her innocent little girl had done nothing to warrant her loss. Sue regretted most that, because of her own poor choices, her daughter had suffered.

Sue missed her daddy. She often wondered what he was doing and whether or not she'd ever see him again. It was a desire of her heart, and the Good Book said God would give you the desires of your heart, so she hoped she would. First thing, she'd ask her father's forgiveness. Had he ever gotten her letters? She hoped no response didn't mean that he hated her or that he had died.

Sue sighed at the high price she'd paid for disobeying and not honoring her father. A long time ago, she'd promised God that, if He would forgive her, she'd never marry again without her daddy's blessing. In the nearly ten years since Andy's death, plenty of suitors had called, but when they talked marriage, her vow always dampened their affections.

Over and over, men tried to convince her that it was not so much the asking but the traveling all the way to Tennessee. Oh well, her vow had proved to be a right good measure of their true intentions and how deep their love ran. She might never be blessed with another love, but if it happened, the man's commitment would certainly be tested.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

She scooted around and sat up, then smiled at Henry. “Oh, just reminiscing a little, I guess. The stars do that to me.”

“Mind some company?”

“Not at all. Levi bedded down?”

He chuckled. “Yes, ma'am. I think that ax wore him plum out.” Henry had a nice laugh. The first time, she'd heard it on the heels of her honest-day's-work insult. He'd taken it with such grace even if it had embarrassed her at the time.

She tried to think but couldn't remember another time since that he had laughed. “Yes, he looked pretty tuckered.”

Wait. At the Aikins' place with William and again with that Lizbeth.

Henry took a seat against the wagon wheel a respectable space away, but not so far that she couldn't make out his features in the pale moonlight. “Bad break, that water moccasin.”

She nodded. “Indeed. We would have been halfway to Pleasant Mound instead of stuck here.”

“Yes, ma'am. And it sure looked to me like you were right on track to cross with no problems.”

“Well, if we can get out pretty quick in the morning, won't be too much time lost.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He looked up and pointed. “A shooting star.”

She followed his finger in time to catch the star's dying trail. “Wow. I haven't seen a shooting star since we came west.” She studied the heavens and looked back ten years. “Me and Andy were so young and so in love and on such a grand adventure. Slept out under the stars all the way.”

HENRY STUDIED THE WIDOW;
maybe now was a good time. “I never had the pleasure to meet your husband or his brother, but
I've heard tell . . .” He let his words drift off; maybe she'd take the bait and talk about her lost love.

She closed her eyes. He hoped he hadn't lost his chance to hear about Andy. “We had such plans for our future, and the Baylor brothers were two of the hardest working men I'd ever known.”

“That's what everyone said.”

“They should have quit that day when it started to rain, but they had promised to deliver the load the next afternoon . . .” She shivered and hugged herself, like instead of just remembering, she had traveled back in time. She fell silent.

Could he keep her talking without being blatant? “Ma'am?”

“It was the most horrible day of my life; still haunts my dreams. I was expecting, of course, though I didn't know it at the time.” She took in a deep breath. “We had to cross Langford's Creek. Levi and I made it no problem in that very wagon over there, but we had all four mules. You knew his mother died from complications shortly after his birth, didn't you?”

Henry nodded. “I'd heard that.”

“Anyway, the drizzle was heavy, and it was getting dark fast. Andy walked by the yoke, urging the oxen to the top of the hill. Jacob brought up the rear, pushing. A bolt of lightning struck too close, blinded me a heartbeat, but in its afterglow, I saw their team rear. The oxen bellowed something awful.”

She shuddered. “The off ox started slipping and fell. His struggling pulled him down the bank. The wagon teetered on two wheels a second, but the back axle broke under the timber's weight. Tie ropes snapped, and the logs rolled off. First ones knocked Jacob down. The rest kept hitting him and rolling over and over where he'd landed.”

Henry started to stop her, but then figured it best to let her get the telling out.

“The wagon tumbled down the bank side over side until it finally settled at the bottom. One wheel was spinning in the air. Funny what stands out, the details you remember.” She looked up at the stars again. “Andy disappeared in the melee. Logs lay strewn all over the place; horizontal, vertical, sticking into the air like ghoulish omens. I ran from log to log across the side of the incline. Then I spotted Jacob covered in mud head to boot, as lifeless as the logs.”

Her pain cut his heart. He wanted to see to it that nothing so horrible ever happened to her again.

“I didn't want to look. I didn't want to see his face, but when I made myself, his open eyes stared into the rain. I knew he was gone. I screamed for Andy but couldn't find him. Then at last I heard him calling my name. I was so relieved. His voice was faint, but I heard it and found him. That black mud caked my shoes so heavy I could hardly walk, but I found him. He was trapped under the wagon, its sideboard across on his belly. He was so covered in blood, I thought he'd lost his eye.

“One of the oxen kept screaming—the most horrible sound I've ever heard to this day. Andrew wanted me to see to Jacob.” She shook her head. “I told him he was gone. Then he sent me to get the gun and put the ox out of its misery. He had me reload quick as I could and shoot into the air, hoping someone might be close enough to hear and come help.”

Henry wanted to hug her, make all her pain and bad memories go away, but that would be the wrong thing to do.

“I'd never killed anything. Never saw a dead man either. Mr. Foglesong heard the shots and came. Took us most the night to get Andy out and home. He passed three days later. He never even knew I was pregnant.”

She looked skyward. Henry watched with her for a bit, then
turned his attention to the widow. She was about the most handsome lady he'd ever laid eyes on; no wonder nearly every eligible bachelor or widower in the Red River Valley had come calling. “Most women would have given up, Sue.”

“Maybe, but I just couldn't quit, though there were plenty of times I thought about going home to Daddy. Andy and Jacob had tied up everything they owned in the land and their steam-powered sawmill. They were so proud of that. I couldn't simply walk away and give it all up. I'd be robbing the children of their inheritance. Besides, the hardships drove me closer to the Lord. I prayed a lot. He got me through.”

Henry laughed. Why did women always want to give a heavenly father credit for what they had done? “My mother always said the Lord did this or God did that when it was her all along. She did it. She was alone, and she did it by herself—just like you, Sue—by her own strength of character and will.”

“So.” She paused as though choosing her words carefully. “You aren't a believer.”

“Well, yes and no. I do believe there's a God up there somewhere, but no, I don't have much use for organized religion with all its thou-shalt-nots. I've never been one to turn the other cheek.”

“Just believing there is a God isn't enough. The devil believes that, too. I know all the rules do make it seem hard sometimes, but thing is, no one keeps 'em all. No one can.”

SHE LOVED IT THAT HENRY
called her by her nickname all the time now; he must consider himself a friend. Had the Lord opened his heart? At least the man wasn't cutting her off or being rude. “The fourth commandment says to obey your parents,
and I didn't. Still, He forgave me. That's one reason why I promised Him that I'd never marry again without my father's blessing.”