Song of Her Heart

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Mason had attended all of the celebrations. The miles passed quickly as he entertained Norah with amusing anecdotes of past years.

When they entered the outskirts of Valentine, Mason said, “The town is known as Nebraska’s Heart City. People from all over the world send valentines to be stamped and mailed from here. But it’s a thriving town, too, serving the ranchers in this vicinity.”

They went first to a garage where Norah made arrangements for repair to be made on her car the next week. Then Mason drove around the business section, pointing out the post office, several grocery stores and restaurants. They stopped at a bank so Norah could open an account, which would be more convenient than to draw on her bank in Missouri during the summer. When they left the bank, Mason checked his watch.

“It’s eleven o’clock,” he said. “Since the weather is nice today, how about having a picnic?”

“Sounds great to me.”

“Let’s buy food and go to the picnic area at the Fort Niobrara National Wildlife Refuge east of town.”

He drove to a grocery store that had a deli, and when they went inside, Mason said, “You order—I’ll pay. I like any food, so buy what you want.”

Norah ordered a large and a small sub sandwich with cheese and turkey, two containers of vegetable salad and slices of chocolate cake. She chose frosted fruit drinks, as well as a cup of coffee for Mason.

“We’ll stop back here before we leave town so you can buy the groceries you need.”

The thought of her move to the Bar 8 ranch depressed him. The more he was around Norah, the more she fascinated him. He wanted her to stay at the Flying K until the children arrived, but he knew he shouldn’t suggest it.

He could think of numerous reasons why he shouldn’t become emotionally involved with Norah, so he was only laying up heartache for himself by becoming fond of her. A little voice inside kept repeating, Even if it’s only for a short time, you might as well enjoy her. Still, always in the back of his mind was the tickling certainty of how lonely he’d be when she left Nebraska at the end of the summer.

Mason related the background of the area as they drove the short distance to the refuge, and Norah learned that great herds of buffalo had roamed the grasslands before white settlers came to the region. The Range Indians had depended on the buffalo for their livelihood, following the great herds as they migrated from north to south for summer and winter grazing. As the United States frontier expanded westward, Fort Niobrara had been built in 1879 to discourage conflict between the natives and the settlers.

“During the twenty-some years of the fort’s existence, the soldiers weren’t involved in any fighting,” Mason said. “And a few years after the fort was dismantled in 1912, the area became a wildlife refuge.”

As Mason continued to discuss the history of the land, Norah considered what a difference a few days in Mason’s company had made. Even in her thoughts, she didn’t like to keep harping on how her family had imposed upon her, but for over twenty years she’d been almost like a prisoner of her family. When she did leave the house, she was always in a hurry to get home, knowing she was needed. She’d had a few boyfriends in her teen years, and they’d gone to movies and eaten in the local restaurants, but she hadn’t dated at all after her mother died. And she’d hardly set foot out of Springfield during all those years.

Travel commentaries hadn’t prepared her for the beauty of America. She looked in awe at the rolling Sand Hills and the breaks along the Niobrara River. Wild turkeys scratched in the grasslands along the river, where aspen and burr oak trees grew, side by side with Ponderosa pines. Near the Visitor’s Center, prairie dogs lived in an underground town, and several peered out of holes and barked. Mason lowered the windows so they could listen to meadowlarks, perched on fence posts, serenading them as they drove by.

“Why are there so few trees?” Norah asked.

“The soil is sandy, there’s not much rainfall and strong winds through the centuries have discouraged tree growth.”

A large herd of buffalo, almost every cow with a brownish-colored calf by her side, grazed contentedly in the high grass along the river. As they traveled slowly along the wildlife drive, Norah made constant use of Mason’s binoculars, which he always kept in the glove compartment, sighting elk, and Texas longhorn cattle, also with calves by their sides.

“The refuge is devoted primarily to the management of buffalo, elk and Texas longhorns,” Mason explained. “Although millions of buffalo once roamed the grasslands, the animals had dwindled to less than a thousand in the United States until these programs started. The wildlife are kept at manageable numbers—four hundred buffalo, sixty elk and about three hundred longhorns—here in this refuge. Other areas in the country have similar programs.”

“It’s great to see our nation’s tax dollars put to such a good use. A lot of the nation’s history would have disappeared without programs like this.”

“Several hiking trails lead into the wilder areas of the refuge, but we won’t have time to hike today,” Mason said as he parked the truck and they got out. “Let’s eat, buy your groceries and head home.”

They placed the deli containers on a picnic table, but with the wind blowing at hurricane force, it was a constant battle to prevent the sandwich wrappers from blowing away.

With a wry grimace, Mason said, “Not too good a day for a picnic, but the wind always blows up here.”

Holding a juice carton in her left hand, and a sub in the other, Norah couldn’t do anything about her hair that was standing straight up. A particularly strong gust lifted Mason’s hat from his head and pitched it several yards away. He hurriedly retrieved the hat and threw it into the truck, allowing his long hair to blow around his face.

A lot of women would be having a fit about having to eat under such conditions, Mason thought, but Norah downed her food without complaint. He looked her over approvingly, caressing her with his dark eyes.

Norah intercepted his gaze, and her face flushed. Why couldn’t she get over acting like a lovesick youth when she was with this man? It was disturbing to blush every time he favored her with a glance.

Noting her heightened color, Mason said, “I shouldn’t have been staring. It’s so unusual for me to be out having a good time in the middle of a workday, that I keep wondering if it’s really happening or if I’m dreaming.”

“It’s sort of like a dream for me, too. We have excellent scenery in Missouri, but I haven’t seen much of it. I’m a vicarious traveler. I’ve read a lot of books on our national parks and I watch travelogues on TV, but it seems different when you’re actually on the site. This has been a rare treat for me today. So, thanks, Mason.”

“Didn’t you get away from home at all?”

“Not for overnight. Most of my expeditions were concerned with shopping, doctors’ appointments and the like. The years passed before I knew it.”

“Ranchers can’t take extended vacations, so I haven’t done much traveling, either. But I’ve hunted in Wyoming and Colorado, and I know the Dakotas and Nebraska pretty well.”

“Don’t think I’m complaining about my years at home. I was willing to do it. But that’s all I’ve done, so I don’t have much of interest to talk about.”

“Talk about anything that pops into your head,” Mason said. “I enjoy the sound of your voice.”

Not wanting a repeat performance of being lifted bodily into the truck, Norah had learned to stand on tiptoe, hold the door handle and spring into the truck cab, while Mason stood by if she needed help. She was sure she didn’t look very graceful, but at least she had managed the two times she’d boarded the truck in Valentine. But this time, she fell backward against Mason. He wrapped his arms around her midriff, and for a moment, she relaxed against him, enjoying the feel of his arms around her. Her breath was uneven, but she said, shakily, “Perhaps you’d better give me a boost.”

He loosened his grip lightly and lifted her into the cab. Refusing to meet his gaze, Norah took a comb from her purse and arranged her hair in its usual style. Mason shook his head to settle his hair in place before he put on his hat.

“My hair is as hard to control as my beard,” he said. “I’ve been letting it grow along with my whiskers. I think I’ll dress as a mountain man for this year’s celebration, if I can find a buckskin outfit to fit me.”

When he pulled into the parking lot in front of a grocery store, he said, “This is where Sheila does all of her buying, so I guess it’s a good place. I keep a cooler in the back of the truck during the summer months, so you can take perishables back with you. While you shop, I’ll buy a sack of ice and dump it in the cooler.”

“I won’t buy much,” Norah said as she went into the store. “Just enough to tide me over until I have the job outline for the summer.”

Mason stopped at the Flying K long enough for Norah to pick up her car, and then he continued to the Bar 8 ranch with her.

“You don’t need to go,” Norah insisted. “I can find my way all right.”

“I want to check and see if the telephone is working,” Mason insisted.

He knew it wasn’t necessary for him to go with her, but he still had the impression that she didn’t want to stay at the Bar 8 ranch. For the last hour of their return drive from Valentine, Norah had hardly talked at all, nor did she pay much attention to the scenery, although she’d been vibrant and enthusiastic earlier in the day. Perhaps she was only tired, but he sensed there was more to it than that.

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.”

Chapter Five

The 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 crocheting 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.