Faith (9 page)

He might as well know he was marrying a tomboy, too.
When she saw his eyes narrow, she said quickly, "I changed
my clothes-soiled to clean."

"Don't you own more than one dress?"

"Four or five of them," Faith admitted. "But I can't build
a barn in a dress."

He straightened. "You are not going to build a barn."

Well, we'll see about that, Faith thought.

During the ride to the Johnsons' house the silence was so
thick it could have been sliced with a knife. The only sound
was the rhythmic clop of the horse's pace, passing acre after
acre of Shepherd cattle.

Faith's head spun with every turn of the wagon wheels.
She could almost read Nicholas's thoughts. Right now he
was wondering how he was going to build a barn with her
in his way. She didn't care; she was eager to have a hammer
in her hand again.

She glanced at Liza. She was probably wondering how she
was going to turn a tomboy into a lady. Not very easily.
Papa had tried it and failed.

Faith sat up as she spotted a coiled rattler beside the road
within striking distance. All Nicholas would need was to
lose a good horse. That would surely ruin the whole day.
Reaching behind her for the shotgun, she carefully eased it
out of the holder. She'd take care of that creature before it
did any harm....

Liza turned around. "What on earth-?"

Springing to her feet, Faith blasted both barrels into the
coiled reptile. The gun's kick nearly toppled her.

Nicholas jumped as if he'd been shot when the gun
exploded.

Liza choked, swallowing the pinch of snuff she'd just
stuck in her mouth.

Slapping her hand against her thigh, Faith squealed with
delight. "Got it!" The same instant the horse reared. Wideeyed, Nicholas fought to gain control.

The runaway horse tore off down the road, out of control
for over a mile, trailing a cloud of dust the size of a Texas
twister behind the buckboard. The old wagon rattled and
shook their teeth, threatening to split apart as it careened
over potholes and gullies. Liza's hairpins came loose,
spinning recklessly in the wind.

Nicholas stood up and sawed back on the reins, using
brute strength to bring the horse under control. Gradually
the wagon rattled to a jerky halt. The three shaken occupants slowly climbed out.

Liza's braids dangled below her shoulders, her face flushed,
looking mad as an old wet hen.

Color rushed to Faith's face. She probably should have
warned them before she shot....

Nicholas seemed surprisingly calm. "Is anyone hurt?"

Liza made a strangling sound, and Faith reached over and
whacked her on the back. A wad of snuff popped out of her
mouth.

"There," Faith soothed. "That feel better?"

Then Nicholas went up like a keg of dynamite. "What
were you thinking?"

Faith stammered, "I-I didn't want the snake to spook the
horse, so I-"

"You didn't want the snake to spook the horse?" Nicholas
said a dirty word. So dirty it brought a blush to Faith's
cheeks. He should be ashamed of himself. God would not think highly of that! "You took it upon yourself to fire a
shotgun ten inches from my eardrum? Mama, are you all
right?"

"WHAT?"

"ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

"I CAN'T HEAR A BLASTED THING!"

Well, that did it. She had only tried to help, and they
were acting as if she'd committed a crime against the
government.

"In the future, kindly refrain from lending your help!"
Nicholas tipped his head to the side, trying to clear his ears.
"Do you have any idea how idiotic that was?"

"I'm not stupid, Mr. Shepherd." Faith glowered. "I just
didn't stop and think."

"In the future-"

"I know! Stop and think!"

Nicholas glowered at her.

"I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"

He pointed to the wagon seat. "I want you to sit on that
bench-no thinking, no helping, nothing-until we get to
the Johnsons. Do you understand?" His eyes snapped blue
fire. Papa had never used that tone of voice with her. "And
keep those trigger-happy fingers in your lap where I can see
them!"

She nodded.

The three climbed back aboard the wagon, and Nicholas
turned the team toward the barn raising.

Faith glanced at Liza. "Mother Shepherd, I'm sorry about
your braids."

"WHAT?"

"The bouncing shook them loose." Faith reached over to
fix them. "Let me put them back in place-"

"Don't touch me." Liza scooted as far as she could away
from Faith.

Faith sighed. Poor Mother Shepherd. Everything Faith
did was wrong. At this rate, they were never going to be
friends.

EXCITEMENT grew when the Shepherd
buggy rolled to a stop at the site of the barn raising. Faith's
eyes drank in the sight of buckboards, colorful jenny Linds
and various other conveyances. From the very moment
Nicholas had mentioned there was going to be a barn raising, she had looked forward to the social event. She was
eager to form new friendships in the community that was to
be her new home. She hoped Nicholas would introduce her
to women her age.

Young Brice Johnson and his bride, Elga, appeared to
greet the new arrivals. The young couple smiled and
shook hands, welcoming the Shepherds to their home.
Levi Johnson, Brice's father, was the Shepherds' closest
neighbor to the south. The two families shared water
rights. Faith judged Elga to be two to three years her junior, pretty, with a tousled head of russet hair and sparkling goldish-brown eyes. Elga had been married less than
a month, and she still glowed with matrimonial bliss.

Over protests, Brice helped Liza down from the buggy,
then took the picnic basket from Faith. His blond, sunny
good looks and amicable gray eyes reminded Faith of the air
after a summer thunderstorm. Refreshing. If only Nicholas
smiled that way once in a while, he'd be every bit as handsome as Brice.

Brice energetically pumped Nicholas's hand. "Glad you
could come today. Can always use an extra hand."

The sounds of hammers and saws rang out as Faith trailed
Nicholas and Liza through the milling crowd. Nicholas
called to several families, who returned the greeting. Faith
decided if he wasn't exactly a social butterfly, he was at least
a well-respected member of the community.

"Need to talk to you about one of my bulls!" a man in
the crowd shouted.

Nicholas waved, promising to get together later as he
steered Faith in the direction of the blanket Liza was spreading under a large oak.

"Can't I help?" Faith protested when she realized he
intended for her to remain with Liza for the day.

"Women have no place doing men's work," he said.

Her chin tilted with determination. "I've done it before.
Once, June and I helped build a whole shed. Mr. Siddons
was thankful for our help, said we had the strength of two
men, and-"

Nicholas cut her off. "No wife of mine is going to build a barn or a shed. Stay here, and stay out from under
foot."

Faith bit her tongue, sorely tempted to remind him she
wasn't his wife, but she could see his pride was at stake. He
wanted his wife to meet community standards. Well, she
resented that he hadn't seemed the least bit upset about their
two delayed wedding attempts. When she opened her
mouth to argue, he pointed her to the blanket and sat her
down.

Handing her a paper fan, he motioned toward the women
setting up the food table. "I'm sure Nelly Johnson will
welcome some help."

"Woman's work," Faith muttered.

"Nothing wrong with woman's work," Nicholas said.
"You can unpack our food basket. It'll keep you out of
trouble."

Keep her out of trouble! Jerking her hat in place, she
stared at his disappearing back, silently seething. What
would it hurt if she handed nails? Or sawed a board to the
proper length?

Fanning herself, she looked up to see Liza pulling balls of
yarn and crochet hooks out of her sewing bag. Faith saw
two hooks, and her heart sank. It was going to be a long
day.

"Should I set out our food basket?"

Liza handed her a hook and a ball of thread. "No hurry.
Here. Make yourself useful. Idle hands are the devil's playground."

Faith bet the devil himself wouldn't have to sit under a tree and crochet on a pretty day like this. Removing her
hat, she set it aside.

Puffy white clouds floated overhead as she made a knot in
the yarn and placed it on the hook, listening to the voices of
the men, who, on the count of ten, heave-hoed, hoisting
the newly framed walls into place. How she envied their
camaraderie. God, I don't question your wisdom, but I sure
wish you'd needed more men than women when I was born. She
would have relished the peppery smell of fresh-hewn wood
in her hands, adored the feel of a smooth shiny nail.

A faint breeze rustled branches overhead as Faith laid aside
her crocheting and sighed. In the distance, a group of children were playing a spirited game of crack-the-whip. Her
eyes searched the crowd for Dan Walters and his brood. She
finally located the young widower nailing window frames
together at a nearby sawhorse. Jeremiah was standing beside
him, holding baby Lilly in his arms.

Smiling, Faith waved, and the old hermit tilted Lilly's arm
to wave back. Jeremiah's gaze lightly skimmed Liza before
returning to the business at hand.

Faith heard Lilly fussing a short while later and quickly
laid her handwork aside.

Liza glanced up. "And where do you think you're
going?"

"The Walters baby is fussy. I thought I'd see if there's
anything I can do to help."

"Dan's capable of taking care of his children."

"Dan's busy right now. I'll only be a minute." Before Liza could stop her, Faith darted off, thankful for the break
in the monotony.

She approached Jeremiah and Lilly. "Can I help?"

Jeremiah gratefully handed over the squalling infant.
"Thanks." He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose. "I believe
the infant's soiled her didee."

Faith smiled, glancing at Dan. "I'm Nicholas Shepherd's
fiancee."

"Yes, ma'am. I saw you in church Sunday morning."
Dan's ruddy complexion looked like a boiled lobster from
the heat and exertion. "Quite a service."

"Yes-quite."

"There's clean diapers in the wagon. Adam, show Miss
Kallahan where they are."

"Faith," Faith corrected, then smiled. "Please call me
Faith."

Dan paused, returning her smile. "Thanks. Faith it is."

Adam took Faith's hand and started toward the wagon.
With each step, he counted. "One, two, three ..."

It was only then Faith realized that little Adam Walters
was blind.

Fifteen minutes later the baby was changed and settled on a
blanket, quietly nursing a bottle. Jeremiah and Adam had
gone off in search of other projects.

Faith sat on the sidelines, shooing flies from the baby as
Dan hammered nails into wooden frames. His quick, effi cient motions confirmed his carpentry skills, although Faith
had heard Nicholas say Dan worked with the blacksmith.

"Have you built many barns?"

"A few." Dan glanced up, using a shirtsleeve to wipe the
sweat off his brow. Unlike Nicholas, he seemed happyalmost hungry-for the conversation. "What about you?
Ever built anything?"

"A shed once, and I helped my father around the par

"You're a preacher's kid?"

She nodded. "Papa was the best there is."

They struck up a friendly conversation that lasted until
the dinner bell rang. Work ceased as men washed up, then
gathered before a long row of tables laden with platters of
fried chicken, boiled potatoes, steaming bowls of turnips,
ears of corn, green beans, and poke greens. Heaping pans of
crispy brown corn bread and bowls of thick, freshly churned
butter were started around. Sitting on nearby tables, fat
apple pies and rich chocolate fudge cakes awaited.

Levi Johnson gathered the group around. "Father, we
thank you for this glorious day and the blessings you have
given us. Thank you for friendships, family, and for the
bountiful food you've placed before us. Watch over and
protect us this day. We ask in Jesus' name, amen."