скачать книгу бесплатно
“Well, if you ladies will excuse me, I’ll go get some work done.” Luke kissed Dottie’s cheek.
“You go on, son. We’ll be just fine.” Dottie settled back with a grin.
To Faith, Luke said, “If you need anything, I’ll be downstairs in the office. First door on your right at the bottom of the stairs.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure.” He ran a hand over his short hair and for a moment just stood there staring at her.
Faith raised a questioning brow.
“See you later.” He smiled before sauntering from the room.
“That’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen from Luke since he’s come home.”
“Come home?” Faith asked, still staring at the spot where he’d disappeared through the door, feeling a little unsettled.
“Luke’s a captain in the army,” Dottie announced with obvious pride in her son.
“Right.” Faith smiled at Dottie.
Dottie continued, “He graduated top of his class at West Point. I’m very proud of my son. He followed his dreams.”
West Point. Impressive. “I’m…familiar with the school. My grandfather’s house sat on the opposite bank of the Hudson River. From the top-floor window we could see part of the academy. Had I been born a boy, my grandfather would have insisted I attend West Point rather than my mother’s alma mater, Cornell.”
“I’m sure your grandfather was very proud of you. Blake didn’t want Luke to go. It caused a rift in their relationship for years.”
“That’s too bad.” Faith hoped the rift had been mended before Blake’s death, but she thought it tactless to ask.
As if reading her unspoken thought, Dottie said, “Luckily they patched things up between them a few years ago. Blake was very proud of Luke, too.”
“Was Luke able to see his father before he passed on?” Faith asked gently.
“Yes, thankfully.” Her expression became troubled. “He wasn’t supposed to stay this long but…I had my attack and…well, Blake’s health had deteriorated over the last couple of years, so the ranch had been neglected for the most part.”
Dottie paused to take a deep breath. “The hands that stayed on have kept things going, but it was Blake who made sure the upkeep and repairs were taken care of. Dear Blake just couldn’t give up control. Not even when it became impossible for him to do more than sit and watch.”
Compassion filled Faith. From her own experience with caring for her grandfather she knew how hard it was to watch someone you love die. Especially when that person was as strong-willed as her grandfather had been, and as Blake must have been. Faith held the older woman’s hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, dear. I take comfort in knowing Blake’s with Jesus and someday we will be together again.”
Conviction shone bright in Dottie’s blue eyes, like beacons of light directing the way.
Faith blinked back sudden tears. She wished desperately that she could be as assured of her own place in heaven and to be reunited with her family. But why would God take her to live with Him when He’d shown no interest in her on earth?
Dottie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Are you feeling okay?”
Faith cleared her throat before speaking. “Yes. Fine, thank you.”
“You must forgive me if I tend to rattle on.”
Thinking it infinitely better for Dottie to talk, she said, “Oh, please. Rattle all you’d like.”
And she did. For Faith, the next couple of hours were a breath of fresh air. They discovered many common interests such as antiques, art, theater and cooking. And Faith was more than happy to exhaust all subjects except the topic of her own life. Soon Dottie was yawning and her eyelids drooping.
“Goodness, I don’t think I’ve had this much to talk about in years.” Dottie beamed as Faith helped her settle back into a reclined position.
“Nor have I.” Faith fluffed the pillows beneath Dottie’s head. “You need some rest now. I’ll come back later and we can pick up where we left off.”
Dottie’s eyes were already closed. Unsure what she should do now, Faith wandered over to a window and stood gazing out at the expanse of land that made up the Circle C Ranch. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find sanctuary in the home of a cowboy.
Could it be possible that God was watching out for her after all?
THREE
“Have you found her?”
Vince glared with loathing at his older brother, Anthony, slouched in the leather chair facing Vince’s desk. He looked awful. Like he hadn’t showered or shaved in weeks. His hair was too long and his clothes ratty. Vince struggled to understand how they’d come from the same gene pool. “Not yet. I can’t believe your stupidity.”
“How was I supposed to know she’d divorce you and take off? I mean, what did you do to her anyway?”
Vince curled his fingers into a fist. “Nothing.”
“Something,” Anthony shot back.
Ignoring the barb, Vince asked, “What did you tell Fernando?”
“What you told me to. He said he’d wait until New Year’s Day. If we don’t return the money, he’ll kill us.”
Vince spread his hand on the desk and leaned forward. “He can kill you with my blessing.”
Anthony’s dark eyes held malice. “Just remember what I did for you.”
Vince swore and moved to the window.
They’d been teens, running with the other punks in the neighborhood, dealing dope, stealing what they could just for something to do. One night they’d knocked off a liquor store, but before they could get away, a cop showed up and caught Anthony. He’d gone to jail and never ratted on his baby brother.
Anthony never let Vince forget that if he’d had a rap sheet, he wouldn’t have been admitted into law school.
But after twenty years, that card was wearing thin.
“I’ll find her and get your money.” Vince turned toward his brother. “And then we’re even.”
Anthony stood and walked to the door, his tennis shoes leaving smudged tracks in the cream-colored carpet. “Yeah, whatever you say.”
After he left, Vince picked up the picture of his wife. “I will find you. And you will never leave me again.”
Luke couldn’t concentrate.
Every time he tried to focus on the paperwork lying on the desk, his mind conjured up the image of a cat-eyed blonde. Once again his curious nature wanted to know what was going on with Faith Delange.
He shouldn’t be spending time thinking about Faith. There was still so much to do on the ranch. He’d lost two hands last week because they’d wanted to find a warmer place for the winter. His foreman, Leo Scruggs, was having a hard time finding replacements. The roof on the house and one of the barns needed fixing and a llama would be birthing soon.
Ever since he’d returned to the ranch, his life hadn’t been his own. Every day he found himself becoming more like his father. And the more he enjoyed being a rancher, the more scared he became.
This wasn’t the life he’d wanted. He’d wanted excitement and adventure. At eighteen, he’d taken his desires to the Lord and had been steered toward the military. Knowing he’d had God’s blessing, Luke had applied and been accepted at West Point. The years there were grueling, exciting and character building. He’d walked away with a degree in engineering. But the military still beckoned, even after his five-year service obligation.
Now, he held the rank of captain and his position of authority gave him more opportunity to make a difference in the lives of his men. From the beginning, he’d felt he’d been called to share his faith with his comrades, and now Luke was looked to as a source of comfort and hope.
He’d worked alongside the chaplain to form a Bible fellowship study, and he was constantly awed by the power of Jesus’s love working in the men’s lives. He didn’t want to give that up.
He wished his father were still here.
Luke hadn’t known about his father’s cancer until nearly the end.
Your father is ill, the note had read, come home.
He’d arrived just in time to see his father before he’d died. Guilt for not having been there ate away at him. If he’d only been a better son and kept in better touch. He’d have learned of the illness sooner and come home. He’d have been able to make his dad’s final days easier.
And now, Luke was running his father’s ranch and dragging his feet about leaving when all he really wanted was to get back to his own life, his unit stationed in the Middle East. He only had another twenty days of leave left.
He fired up the computer and looked up Faith on Google. A list of articles came up. Mostly charity events where Faith and her grandfather were present. One photo showed Faith in a gray business suit standing beside her grandfather who sat in a wheelchair. He was old and hunched with strong features. The caption read, “The Delanges to start a foundation for overseas missions through a local church.”
Philanthropy, faith, family and money. What was she running from?
A soft knock sounded on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Faith stepped in. He clicked off the web page.
“I don’t mean to bother you. But…well, your mother’s asleep and I don’t know what I should be doing.”
Luke hadn’t the foggiest what she should be doing now, either.
She smiled uncertainly.
Luke stood and moved around the desk. “I’ll show you to your room.”
Faith followed him. “I think this place is wonderful. So warm and cozy.”
“My parents have lived here since they were married. I don’t think Mom has bought anything new since.”
Faith stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Her finger traced a carving in the banister.
“Did that when I was ten. Dad just about blew a gasket.” He laughed slightly. “I can still remember how he lit into me, saying, ‘If you want to carve your name into a piece of wood, there’s a whole stack of firewood out back that you can carve up after you split it all.’”
“He sounds like he was a good father.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he was. Strict, but always fair. Even when we didn’t see eye to eye, I never questioned his love.”
But his father had questioned his son’s love. How many times had Luke turned his back on the advice and instruction his dad offered? Luke would give anything to have that time back, to show his dad how much he loved him.
“That’s wonderful,” she stated, wistfully.
“Did you question your parents’ love?” he asked.
Sadness entered her gaze. “My parents were killed when I was eleven.”
“That must have been tough. Who raised you?”
“My grandfather.”
“The one that had a heart attack?”
She nodded. “He passed on almost two years ago.”
“Have you been traveling since then?”
Her expression became guarded. Wary. “No.”
She moved away from him to stand beside her suitcases where he’d left them in the entryway.
As she bent to pick them up, he said, “Here. Allow me.”
Taking her bags in hand, he led her upstairs, entered the sewing room and breathed in the scent of gardenias, his mother’s favorites, perfuming the air. A dried bouquet of the white blossoms sat atop the dresser. He made a mental note to order fresh ones.
“This is lovely.” Faith walked in and surveyed the room. She gently brushed a hand along the black sewing machine resting on an old wooden table. “Your mother’s, I assume.”
“Yes, Mom loves to sew. She’s made most of her own clothes for years.” Luke could remember wanting her to go shopping like other mothers, but Dottie had always been a frugal woman who insisted her own creations were as good as those found in some over-priced dress shop.
“I like your mother. She’s nice.”
“Thanks. She likes you, too.” Luke was thankful for that. It would make leaving that much easier.
Walking to the closet door, he put his hand on the knob. “Here’s a closet. It’s yours to use and you can clear out the drawers in the dresser.”
“Thank you. You’ve been so kind.”
He acknowledged her gratefulness with a nod. “My room’s next door and the bath is across the hall.”
Faith blinked and asked, “Where does Reva sleep?”
“She has her own house to go to.” Thankfully.
“Besides caring for your mother, is there anything else I can do?”
“You can relax.” He thought back to her strange behavior on the way to the ranch and his observation that she didn’t want to be seen. “Maybe you should tell me what you’re running from?”
