Faith (21 page)

Liza rearranged the sugar bowl. "Nicholas, have you seen
my snuff? I can't find it."

"Good."

"Nicholas!"

Nicholas held his tongue. He was too angry to talk sense.
Mama was out of hand. He was personally taking her to see
Doc first thing in the morning. Meanwhile, he needed time
to think this mess through.

Liza was muttering under her breath now, fanning.
"Came straight home, packed Miss Kallahan's belongings, and set them on the front porch, I did. It was after dark
when Albert came for her things. Told me not to worry
about her; she'd be all right with them. I just bet she will.
She'll be going full steam ahead with those blind-school
plans."

Liza wiped her forehead. "At least Albert was thoughtful
enough to return the horse and buggy. Miss Kallahan would
not likely have thought about it."

Nicholas turned from the window, trying to temper his
rage. "I can't believe you've done this."

"I haven't done anything. It was Faith Kallahan's doings,
not mine. I've done nothing that any good mother
wouldn't do." Liza pushed back from the table and got up.
"Most likely she's over there cookin' supper for the Walters
family. You've seen the way Dan looks at her."

The declaration was like ice water in Nicholas's face.

Liza sniffed. "Supper's getting cold. Sit down. You're
worn out from the long trip."

Nicholas was more heartsick than tired. "I've lost my
appetite." He snagged his hat from the peg and went out
the back door, slamming it behind him. The lace curtain
gyrated wildly.

He entered the barn and quickly climbed the ladder to
the loft. Exhausted, he lay back on a bale of hay, allowing
familiar sounds and smells to calm him. How had his life
gotten so complicated?

The thought of Faith in another family's house stung. The
thought of her with Dan hurt even more. He had seen the
way Dan looked at her, relied on her. Was Nicholas falling in love with her? No. Would he ever be able to love again?
Did he know Faith well enough to love her? He'd loved
only one woman, Rachel. But he'd had to let that sentiment die once she was married. Now he felt sorry for her,
and guilty that she was married to a man who treated her
badly. He was sorry she didn't have the life she deserved.

His thoughts returned to Faith. Why wasn't he happy to
have her out from under his feet? Nicholas started a slow
burn. I paid for her ticket out here; she's promised to me. The
angry thought jarred his senses. He was no better than
Mama, using hateful thoughts to justify his shortcomings.
Father, forgive me. My thoughts are so muddled on this situation.

Why should he let Mama send Faith away? Why didn't he
march into that kitchen right now and tell Mama that since
she was the one who'd told Faith to go, she had to be the
one to bring her back?

Faith was told to leave; how could she just waltz back into
his house?

She should never have left; she should have stood her
ground until he got back and could straighten this thing
out.

Had she been looking for a reason to leave? Was that reason Dan Walters? Mama's words rang in his head: over there
cooking the Walters's supper.

Well, he'd see about that! He'd saddle his horse and bring
Faith back to the Shepherd ranch where she belonged.
Then he'd deal with Mama's absurd accusations and get to
the bottom of all this nonsense.

Climbing out of the loft, he saddled the Appaloosa, his
thoughts on his mission. His hands suddenly paused.

Regardless of Mama's interference, Faith had chosen to
move in with Mary Ellen. What if she had been looking for
a reason to leave? Liza's rash demand and Faith's decision,
no matter how warranted, made him feel like a downright
fool now that she'd left him.

Jerking the saddle off the horse's back, he sat down, torn.
What would make him look the bigger fool in the town's
eyes? Faith's remaining with the Finneys, or his going after
her?

Dropping to his knees, he prayed. Father, give me guidance.
Forgive my pride; give me the strength to do what's right.

Getting to his feet, he swung the saddle back on the
horse and mounted, then slid back down and jerked it off
again.

The answer was obvious. He wouldn't go after her even
though he wanted to. And, God help him, he did want to.
If she had a shred of decency, she would come home, try to
straighten this out-at least consult him about it! If she
didn't ... well, it would just prove that she didn't want to
stay with him after all. Mama had no right to humiliate
Faith, but Faith had no right to humiliate him. A man had
his pride.

Exhausted, he curled up on a bale of hay, shivering in the
night air. It wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, but
he had his pride. Let Mama wonder where he'd spent the
night. She should never have sent Faith away.

So much for his mail-order bride. He rolled into a tighter
knot, prepared to endure a miserable night.

Liza paced the kitchen floor, occasionally parting the
curtains to look out. Where was Nicholas? He'd been gone
for hours, and there wasn't a sign of light in the barn.

Dropping the curtain back into place, she resumed pacing.
She'd gone too far. Her acid tongue had betrayed her one
too many times. Nicholas had never spoken to her in such a
shameful way. The sound of the slamming door echoed in
her mind. She glanced around the empty kitchen, feeling
the full brunt of her loneliness.

Bursting into hot tears, she wondered how Nicholas-her
own flesh and blood-could treat her so badly. What evil
possessed him to side with Faith Kallahan? He barely knew
the woman. How dare he choose an ungrateful mail-order
bride over his own mother?

He had deserted her. She had lost him. Just like she'd lost
Abe. Only her son's abandonment hurt more; he had a
choice. He'd angrily slammed out, leaving her to wonder if
he'd ever come back. Abe was never coming back; she
understood that, but Nicholas-he couldn't leave her. She
would have nothing, nothing to live for.

Liza sobbed, certain she was losing her mind. Had Abe
lived, would he have left her too-in the most wretched
time of her life? She couldn't think straight anymore. It was
as if the world had gone crazy.

The way she'd been acting, she wouldn't blame Nicholas
if he left and never came back.

Kneeling, she prayed for forgiveness. Help me, Father,
help me.

She rocked back on her heels, burying her face in her
hands. Oh, Abe, what should I do? If only Abe were here to
protect her, comfort her, hold her close. Where could she
go for refuge? Bitterness rose in her throat. Why, God, why
did you take Abe and leave me? Worthless me, who can do nothing but cry and sweat and hate the world!

Where had her little boy gone? Where was the laughing
child she'd once cradled in her arms, sprinkling butterfly
kisses on his tiny forehead as she gently rocked him to
sleep? Her little boy was gone, and oh, how she missed the
sound of tiny feet scurrying through the house.

Wiping her tears, she got up and looked out the window.
She missed the boy, but she was proud of the man he'd
become. Nicholas was so like Abe ... so like her Abe.

Everyone was gone now. Abe was dead. Nicholas had
walked out. And Faith ... she'd shoved her away, too ...
and Nicholas would never forgive her. The image of Faith
sitting in the middle of the Smith floor, trying to restore
the dirty wood to decency, tore at her conscience. What
harm could scrubbing an old floor cause? She had been
irrational, cranky, and unreasonable. What had she been
thinking?

"Oh, Lord," Liza cried out to the empty kitchen. "What's
happening to me? What have I done?"

She felt insufferable heat rising in her chest, a hellish fire that ignited her. For a moment she thought she might not
catch her breath. As quickly as the fire imprisoned her, it
released her, leaving her exhausted and drenched in perspiration.

Taking a deep breath, she dried her eyes, then lifted her
head with dignity. She would not give in to this strange
malady, or the others inflicted upon her.

She would not.

Miss Kallahan? Will you read to me?"

Faith let the front curtain drop into place. Adam had
caught her looking again. She'd been hoping-no, praying-Nicholas would come. But she'd looked down that
road until she couldn't look anymore. He wasn't coming;
she must accept this cruel twist of fate. Could this be God's
will? Why was she brought out here-to be rejected by the
family who'd asked her to come? Was there some other
purpose for her being in Deliverance, or should she return
to Cold Water? She sighed. Would she ever understand
God's will? Accept it she could, but understand?

When she'd discovered that Dan was having trouble finding someone to care for the children while he worked, she
talked to Mary Ellen about the situation. Mary Ellen said
Dan needed Faith's help more than she did, and to go on over. It was a way to feel useful, so she'd gladly offered
Dan her help.

She enjoyed spending her days taking care of Dan's children, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her
thoughts away from Nicholas. How could she miss the
Shepherd home so? It had never really been her homethough it was the only home she'd known in Deliverance.
Then there was Liza. She had always been so difficult. And
Nicholas.

Was she at fault in some way? Had she not tried hard
enough to win Nicholas's love? Should she have tried
harder with Liza? Father, forgive me if I have not followed you
closely enough, paid enough attention to what you wanted me to
do. I just don't know what to do now. I wait on you. Please give
me patience, and help me to know what you want me to do.

Did Nicholas think about her? Not that he should be concerned about her welfare. She had disobeyed Liza, and for
that she was sorry. In retrospect the school for the blind was
a worthy cause, but her stance may have been too rash. It
looked like that stance would cost her her marriage to
Nicholas. The thought saddened her. In the short time
they'd had together she had come to respect him-at times
even like him. Most assuredly she'd looked forward to their
occasional talks.

Now she was faced with a dreadful decision. If Nicholas
didn't come after her-and she felt certain he wouldn'tshe would be forced to return to Cold Water. Perhaps she
would even have to marry Edsel Martin. She shuddered. Daniel was asked to face mere lions; would the Lord ask her
to face Edsel?

"Miss Kallahan, would you read to me?" Adam repeated
patiently. His sightless eyes stared expectantly back at her,
and she was reminded that her situation was not without
blessings. And, she had made a choice. She could have gone
home when Liza demanded it. Now she had to live with
her choice.

Faith didn't know what was going to happen, or when,
but for as long as she remained in Deliverance, she intended
to make herself as useful as possible. She would help Mary
Ellen with her children, and Dan with his. Oddly enough,
word was spreading about the school for the blind. Many
were offering to help; even some donations were dropped
off at the Finneys'. Where was her faith, the faith she'd
promised God to uphold?

Her thoughts returned to the child by her side. "Of
course, Adam. What would you like to hear?"

"That story about that boy that killed that big old giant
with one tiny stone."

"Go get the Bible. I believe I left it on the stand next to
your bed."

Adam knew his way around the house with amazing
accuracy. Within a few moments he returned, carrying the
book. Lifting him onto her lap, Faith gently placed his fingertips on the pages, urging him to familiarize himself with
the paper's texture. "Feel how smooth and worn it is?"

Adam nodded, running his fingers over the pages. "It feels
like mommy's dress."

"I'd never thought of it that way, but yes, the soft parchment feels like fine silk or soft cotton." Faith rewarded him
with a hug. God had given him much to overcome in his
five short years. Inability to see and the loss of his mother.
On the other hand, Dan was more than a father to his children, he was a friend. Faith saw how hard he worked to try
to hold the family together.