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“Maybe you’ll get to meet my daughter, Libby, and her friend, Luke, in a couple days.” He shoved a hand into his coat pocket.
The eager smile that tipped her full lips seemed to brighten the room. “I’d love to.”
“That’s right,” Zach commented, remembering how much he’d enjoyed the last time Libby and Luke had visited. “They’re c-c-coming out this week, aren’t they?”
“Once every two weeks, that’s what you said, right?” Ben pulled a hand over his shadowed jawline.
“Absolutely,” Zach put in, nodding. “It was fun having them t-tag around with me last t-t-time.”
Ben’s low chuckle rumbled quietly in the room. “After those two begged me like a pair of unmannerly pups, I finally relented and asked Zach if he’d mind if they came out every now and then and helped around the ranch.”
Her quizzical gaze hadn’t left Zach. “That certainly is nice of him.”
He grasped the chair, trying to remain unaffected by her rapt attention as he willed his throat and mouth to relax so that his words could come out whole. “I’ll mmmmake sure to find some tasks for them to d-do.” He took a long deep breath to settle himself. “That is if they sssssstill want to come out.”
Obvious concern flashed momentarily in Ben’s gaze, but he seemed to know not to bring it up right now and for that Zach was inordinately grateful.
“Are you kidding me? They talk about their time here, nonstop.” Ben lifted his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “But you really don’t have to pay them this time.”
Zach scowled. “A good man is worth his wage. It’s a g-g-good lesson for them to learn.”
After a long pause, Ben gave his head a single nod. “All right. You drive a hard bargain. If you insist on paying them, then go ahead.”
Zach wouldn’t have it any other way. He loved his seven-year-old niece and Luke, an eleven-year-old boy Ben had taken under his wing two years ago. The boy’s mother had lived a harlot’s lifestyle. Ben’s caring influence on the boy had gone a long way in giving the child a chance. When a fire had nearly taken the boy’s life, and his mother’s, she’d made a dramatic turn for the good. She’d even worked alongside Ben and his wife, Callie, to get the Seeds of Faith Boarding House, a refuge for women in need of a fresh start, off the ground.
Ivy cleared her throat. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I am so tired I think I may fall over.”
Jerked out of his discomfort, Zach stepped around the table to stand beside her. He’d caught her in his arms once already today. He’d catch her again, if need be.
“You’ll have to come over and have dinner with my family when you’re feeling rested,” Ben remarked.
The smile she gave Ben had Zach wishing for one himself. “Thank you. I would love that,” she replied.
Ben nodded her way. “You’ll let me know if your father needs anything. Right?”
“Yes, of course.” Her eyelashes whispered down over her eyes.
“G-G-Good night, Ivy,” Zach said, keeping his voice low as he ushered her to the stairway. He would’ve walked her on up to her bedroom door just to make sure she was all right, but in no way did he wish to appear overly eager. Nor did he want to seem at all inappropriate.
“Good night, Zach,” she responded, the hint of jasmine wafting to his senses as she ascended the generous staircase.
As her footsteps faded, Zach turned to face his brother.
Ben gave a long sigh as Zach walked back into the room. “All right. Tell me what’s going on.”
“What do you mean?” Zach braced himself. Ben’s big-brother demeanor wasn’t all that comforting, seeing as how Zach was the focus.
Ben jammed a hand on his bag. “I mean with her. With you.”
Crossing to the table, Zach stacked Ivy’s plate on top of his. “She came home to see her father. That’s what. And he insisted I have dinner at the main house tonight—not that that’s uncommon. I eat here more often than not,” he added, grasping her napkin as visions of her pressing it to her lips ricocheted through his mind. He thumbed the linen fibers, half tempted to breathe in any lingering scent of her there. “I couldn’t exactly disregard a sick man’s request, could I?”
Ben gave his head a slow shake. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”
Zach swallowed hard, struggling to gather himself as he tightened his fist around Ivy’s napkin. It wasn’t Ben’s fault that Zach couldn’t seem to abandon his confidence-shattering feelings for Ivy.
When Ben rested a hand on Zach’s shoulder, his sympathetic manner had Zach squirming. “What is this with you stuttering again? I haven’t heard you stumble over your words in a very long time.”
He met his brother’s worried gaze. “I’m just fine.”
“Now you are. But just a few seconds ago, you were stuttering almost as bad as you did a long time ago.” Ben’s brow cocked in concern.
“Do you think that that fact escaped my notice?” Resisting the urge to shrug from his brother’s touch, he willed his feet to remain planted. “I am painfully aware of the fact.”
“Why now? Why all of a sudden?”
“It’s not that bad,” Zach defended, knowing, even as the words passed his lips, that it wasn’t that good, either. He might not be stuttering every sentence, but it was there, bold and sure. When Ivy was around, he seemed to have no control over his tongue, just like before. “See, I’m fine now. I haven’t stuttered for several minutes.”
“But you haven’t had a problem for a long time,” Ben argued, withdrawing his hand from Zach’s shoulder. “Why now?”
“I don’t know,” Zach threw back, inwardly cringing at the lameness of his response. He picked up the dinner plates and headed toward the swinging door leading to the kitchen.
Ben followed and grasped Zach’s arm, bringing him to a halt. Ben cleared his voice—something Zach and his brothers had defined as a this-is-serious sign. A growing sense of panic swarmed Zach’s waning confidence. He didn’t want to discuss the topic. Not now. Not ever. “Did something happen? I mean something bad?” Ben queried, dipping his head to grab Zach’s attention. “Listen, I know you’ve never really talked about what happened when you first began stuttering … and I can understand why. You were eleven. A raw age for something so traumatic.”
Any age was a raw age when it came to that. Sometimes Zach wondered if the devastating impact of that event would ever lessen. Once he’d grown tired of the effects beating him down, he’d fought back. Hard. But as much as he battled for confidence and wholeness of speech, a cavernous place in his heart still gaped wide open.
“What happened back then isn’t up for discussion.”
“The most we ever found out is that you got separated from the group of school kids you were with,” Ben continued, ignoring Zach’s declaration. “And that somehow you fell into an abandoned mine shaft. Isn’t that right?” Ben probed, obviously hoping Zach would seize the opportunity to rehash the past.
Struggling to keep his breathing even, Zach dragged in a lungful of air. He braced a hand on the doorknob as images from twelve years ago flashed through his mind.
He’d been head over heels in love with Ivy from the first grade, falling over himself to carry her books. Her lunch pail. Helping with any task, big or small, she’d allow him the privilege of doing. He’d dreamed of her more nights than not, of whisking her away from evil captors, of braving the worst of elements to carry her to safety. His whole life had hung in the balance as he’d been on the ready, waiting for any opportunity to garner her coveted attention.
She’d never shown him the slightest interest.
But when he’d tagged along with a group of kids into a cave just to be near her, and when he heard her screech in fright, he’d seized the moment. It’d been his chance to shine. To prove himself worthy of her affection. The moment he’d dreamed of.
Ivy had laughed in his face. The brilliance in her eyes sparking in the lantern’s light had grown almost brighter than the noonday sun as she’d made it clear that she didn’t need his gallant gesture.
Hugh Bagley’s riotous laughter had echoed off the cave’s dank dark walls, along with the other kids. Zach had utterly embarrassed himself. Hugh had hung back long enough to warn Zach to keep his paws off Ivy. Then he’d given Zach a rough shove, sending him stumbling backward, falling hard and long into an abandoned mine shaft.
Zach had hated confined spaces—still did. Loathed the unknown elements that hung like a mire of webs in the obsessive darkness. Still, he’d been too prideful to call for help, at first, anyway. But after Hugh and the others continued on, leaving Zach swallowed up by a darkness he’d never imagined, he’d called. Prayed. Yelled. Screamed until his voice had turned raw.
No one came.
It seemed that even God hadn’t been listening.
He’d remained trapped for two whole days, and by the time he finally found a way out—scratching and clawing at the walls until his fingers bled, the soles of his boots were worn to shreds and his words refused to come out as anything other than a stutter.
Desperate, Zach scrabbled his way back to the present, his face flaming hot. His blood boiling. And his heart somehow growing colder and harder after reliving the memory.
“I’ll say it again … this subject is not up for discussion,” he measured out.
A slow sigh escaped Ben’s mouth. “I can’t make you talk about this,” he began, his tone saturated with concern. “But know that if you don’t deal with what happened, it will continue to haunt you. It’ll affect you in ways you won’t be able to ignore. Like now. I know it’s been a deep dive taking on the role as foreman. Ask for help if you need to, because if you’re having a hard time keeping up out here, your stutter could’ve shown up as a direct result.”
“No,” he ground out, irritation now joining the other raw emotions flapping around like broken shutters in his soul. “I told you I’m fine. Things on the ranch are fine. I’ll work through this alone, just like I do with everything else. I can handle it, Ben. Just like I have everything else.”
Chapter Five
The next morning, Zach sat across from Mr. Harris in his office just like he’d done every single morning from the day he’d taken over as foreman.
While he waited for his boss to finish reading something, he peered at the man’s well-built, handsome desk—just another mark of Joseph’s expertise. Joseph, the second in the line of Drake brothers, had been building furniture with Aaron, the third in line, for several years now. Joseph’s legendary, satin-smooth finish didn’t suffer one bit from his lack of sight. Thoughts of his brothers’ successes filled Zach with pride—but also determination to do just as well, to work just as hard for his own success.
Mr. Harris shifted in his generous leather chair, grabbing Zach’s attention. “I need to discuss something with you, Zach.”
“I’m listening.” Zach grasped the scrolling chair arms a little tighter, unable to shake the grim feeling hanging over him. “Is everything all right?”
The forced look of concession inching across his boss’s face wouldn’t have seemed a bit out of place if he’d been held at gunpoint. He grimaced. “Violet thinks that I should be more up front with you than I have been.”
“About …”
“About my health.” The half defeated way the man’s head hung for a brief moment strummed a deep chord of compassion in Zach.
The idea that Mr. Harris would admit to this confirmed its severity. And that he’d take anyone’s advice on the matter took Zach by complete surprise. He knew that Violet cared deeply for her employer, and had a way of saying things to Mr. Harris that no one else would think to say, but still …
There’d been times over the past months when Zach had wondered if Mr. Harris and Violet cared for each other beyond a working relationship, yet had been unable to recognize the signs. It was a comfort to know that Mr. Harris had Violet to rely on, but Zach was committed to doing his part, too, to help his employer.
Mr. Harris yanked his hat from his head and slapped it on the desk. “Violet thinks that I should probably let you know—” He shifted in his seat again. Turned and peered out the window with a certain amount of longing, as though freedom stretched beyond these walls. “I’ve been feeling more poorly than I’ve been letting on. Violet’s been worried sick about me even though I’ve told her that I’m going to be just fine. But that ornery woman threatened to spill my health woes to the town if I didn’t at least let you know.”
Zach worked furiously to bat down his outright shock. Mr. Harris was a proud man, and the last thing he’d want was sympathy spooned out to him. “Boy, she means business, doesn’t she?”
“You’re telling me.” The man rested his elbows on his desk and leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him like he often did when he was faced with a tough situation. “It’s hard enough knowing that my health is the reason Ivy is back.”
Zach propped his right booted foot above his left knee. “You know about that?”
“I’m no fool, Zach.” He raised one dark eyebrow over an eye in that studious way that instantly brought to mind a petite, auburn-haired young woman. “I know good and well that Violet had to have penned a letter to Ivy. But just between you and me … we’ll let those two ladies think that they’re getting by with something.”
A grin tugged at one side of Zach’s mouth. “All right.”
“Good man.” Mr. Harris winked on a nod.
Zach breathed a little easier for a moment, but not for long. His boss’s health was shaky, at best. The fact that Violet had threatened him like that said as much. The woman could be almost as headstrong as her employer.
“I’m sorry about all of this, Mr. Harris.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He held up his hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s nothing more than a sour stomach now and then, maybe some cramping, too.”
Zach clasped his hands between his knees. “How long have you been sick, anyway?”
Mr. Harris pinned Zach with one of his don’t-press-too-far gazes. “A few months.”
Zach’s mouth hung open in rebellious shock. “A few months? Why didn’t you say anything?” he probed, frustrated and yet, he could hear Ben’s voice from last night, challenging Zach in a similar vein. “I could’ve done more to help out.”
Mr. Harris leaned back in his chair again. “It’s probably just a passing illness, and all of Violet’s fussing will be for nothing,” he dismissed, tapping his knuckles on the wide chair arm. “Besides, if I wasn’t able to get out on the ranch, well then, I might as well just dig my own grave right now.”
“Is there something I can do to help?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re a good man out there, Zach.” His boss’s intense gaze bore into Zach. “A lot like I was at your age.”
Zach swallowed hard. “What about Ben? Don’t you think you should let him look you over? He could help.”
“Take no offense,” he replied on a wince. “But I learned, a long time ago, that doctors just poke and prod. They don’t know much more than their patients do.”
“But I know that Ben would be glad to—”
“Zach, I carted my wife all over creation, looking for a doctor who’d help. And what did it get me?” His knuckles grew white as he gripped the arms of the chair.
Zach had only heard bits and pieces about just how sick Mrs. Harris had been. He’d learned this much … Mr. Harris had loved his wife, but no amount of love or care could heal her. Her suffering had been long and great.
“So,” his boss continued, perching his hat back on his head. “I’m feeling fine today. I’ll probably be feeling better tomorrow, and who knows … the next day I might just be feeling like myself again.”
Zach sat up straight, looking his employer in the eye. “I’m glad you said something.”
The man chuckled with a definite amount of irony as he pushed up to standing. “Son, I didn’t have a choice. Violet’s holding my feet over a fire and I don’t care to get burned.”
The clumsy way he grabbed for the desk, as though he was unsteady on his feet, sent alarm shooting straight through Zach. He stood, keeping an eye on his boss’s every move in case the man toppled over. “You’ve been good to me, Mr. Harris. Is there anything else I can do?”
The man slowly crossed to the window and braced his hands on the wide golden pine trim. For a silent moment he peered outside at where the sun had inched up a little higher, christening the day with brilliant light. “You want a job?” he asked, his back to Zach. “Because this one won’t be easy.”
Zach pulled his buckskin gloves from his back pocket. “I’m up to the task.”
Turning, Mr. Harris kept one hand on the window trim as he eyed Zach. “First, you need to know that there’s quite a lot of water that’s run under the bridge between me and Ivy. Things are strained between us,” he admitted, his gaze shrouded with the kind of hurt a man rarely showed. “You may have noticed.”
He’d noticed all right. That’s why he’d already decided that he’d try to be a buffer for Ivy. The hurt look that had flashed across her hopeful expression yesterday in the barn had nearly broken his heart.
And the sorrow drifting over his boss’s expression just now gave him equal pause. Zach had no idea what had transpired between Mr. Harris and Ivy, but having lost his brother Max to a sordid lifestyle which had led to his death, Zach would do whatever he could to help heal the torn relationship.
He’d be a listening ear. A voice of encouragement.
And he’d pray. In spite of his floundering relationship with God, he’d pray that God would do that which Zach was fairly certain only God could do. He’d seen God work miracles in Ben, Joseph and Aaron’s lives. God could work a miracle here, too. Couldn’t He?
“I know she’s found a place for herself out east just like her mama wanted for her, but if something happens to me, then all of this, every last inch of this ranch, must fall to her.” Mr. Harris reached out and grabbed Zach’s arm in an uncommon show of desperation. “She needs to fall in love with this place again, Zach. I need her to love it just like she did when she was a little girl—before things changed. Do you hear me?”
“I understand.” Zach gulped back a lump of uncertainty. He’d do whatever Mr. Harris wished, but this would require him being in close quarters with Ivy, and he’d already discovered that her very presence incited his old insecurities and fears. Having her back here was one thing, but could he go to this extent without losing the man he’d become and the confidence he’d worked so hard to gain?
“With the way you love this place, you’re just the man to help her with that.” Mr. Harris’s grip on Zach’s arm tightened. “If things take a bad turn for me, then she’s going to have to stay here. I want you to lead her heart home.”
Ivy’s first night back at the ranch had been fraught with every emotion imaginable. She was grieving, still, her mama’s death. Sorrowful for her father’s cool, uninterested greeting. Overjoyed to see Violet.
