They gathered in their usual spots at the table, the mismatched chairs and benches creating a chorus of groans scraping across the floorboards. Pa sat at the head of the table, Ian to his right, while Kate sat on his left with Andrew beside her on the rough bench, their knees nearly touching. Kate had set a spot at the foot for Ma, as she did every night. It sat empty. Pa said a simple prayer, and as Kate ladled stew, he got up and brought his plate and Ma’s over to the window. He leaned against the wall, gently coaxing her to eat between spoonfuls of stew and stories of what they’d been up to that day. Kate watched sadly. It broke Pa’s heart watching his wife fade away into a husk of her former self. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force her to find the will to live. She needed to discover that on her own somewhere in the dark valley of her grief. All they could do was pray.
“Would you like to go for a walk again this evenin’?” Andrew asked quietly, breaking through her melancholy thoughts.
She put on a smile. “Of course, Andrew, that’d be lovely.”
Once the initial fervor of the work of reviving this homestead had subsided and the days had settled into a routine, Kate had made it a habit of walking down to the creek after supper to clear her head from the work that faced her inside and to have a few moments to herself. One day Andrew had asked to accompany her, and then the next day, and then the next until it became a matter of course. Andrew would ask at supper, she would accept, he would wait until she had cleaned up the meal, and they would walk. There was a comfortable familiarity to it. They didn’t even talk all that much. But Kate knew now with fair certainty that Andrew’s choice to work for her father was to stay close to her, at least in part.
Were they courting? She didn’t know for sure. She’d never courted anyone before. It had just kind of happened. One day she was walking alone, and the next Andrew was beside her.
There was a solidness to it. That he chose to stay. To stay beside her. She tried not to think of another young man who had chosen to leave. She sighed. It wasn’t fair to blame Jacob for leaving. He had responsibilities, and she had kept him at arm's length, never telling him how much he meant to her, how much she wanted him close. Some silly part of her wanted him to stay no matter how much her mind told her they could never be together. But she had said nothing, and he had said goodbye. And it hurt. Kate clenched her jaw, pushing away the what-ifs and focusing on what was right in front of her. Andrew was here, and Jacob was not, and that’s all that mattered.
The warm day had dimmed into a crisp twilight. Andrew walked beside her, hat pulled down over his dark hair, shoulders hunched slightly as they always were, dark eyes roving over the grasses and bushes and hills around them. Kate pulled her shawl tighter, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill. Andrew glanced down and wordlessly shrugged out of his coat, laying it across her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He just nodded with a small smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
Andrew seemed quieter than usual tonight, distracted and tense. What was on his mind? Kate didn’t ask. She knew by now that you couldn’t coax information out of Andrew; you simply had to wait and let him speak when he decided to.
They walked in silence, the only sounds the brown buffalo grass crunching underfoot and the breeze rustling through the sage. The sun moved behind the hills, taking most of its warmth with it, but lingered to paint gold and periwinkle on the tips of the eastern mountaintops. The air was both sharp and heavy, weighted with the meeting of the seasons: the warmth of summer still emanating from the ground, the smell of theturning leaves of autumn, the icy keen of winter whispering its coming on the wind blowing down from the mountains.
Kate was also caught in the midst of a change. She clung to the rosy glow of the life she knew before heartache had brought its frost, facing the future unsure of how many more storms were coming her way and whether her tender dreams would survive to emerge in the spring.
Lord, is this all my life is to be? Working, serving, alone ’til the end of my days? You say that every good and perfect gift comes from you. Do you have any gift for me?I feel like one of the Israelites wandering in the desert, day after day, never finding a home. Is this what you have for me? Where is my Promised Land?Kate struggled to keep herself from despair. She sniffed and lifted her chin, not wanting Andrew to know her struggles, her doubts. How could she be so selfish? Here she was living in the midst of the Lord’s provision, and she questioned His wisdom.Forgive my ungrateful heart, Lord. Thank you for the manna you have given me every day.
They stopped at the edge of the creek. It gurgled happily, naive to the frost that would soon capture it motionless in its grip. Kate smiled sadly. If only she could go back to a time when she’d been ignorant of pain. She breathed deep, taking the crisp air down into her lungs, willing it to revive her spirits.
Andrew cleared his throat, deciding to speak at last. “I talked to your pa today.”
“You talk to my pa every day.”
“True. This was a little different.”
“Oh?”
He squinted out toward the darkening horizon. “I wanted to ask him about what the future might look like.”
“I was wonderin’ the same thing.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You were?”
“Well, with the weather turnin’, you’re gonna need a warmer place to sleep than the hayloft. You’ve been so busy helpin’ us prepare for winter and takin’ care of the herd that you haven’t been able to make a place of your own. I’m sure we can make room in the cabin if you need. There’s space up in the loft with Ian if you squeeze.”
“Yeah, ah, a warm place to lay my head would be mighty fine.” He swallowed, looking down. “That’s just it. I’ve been scoutin’ around. I think I’ve found a spot to make my own place.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s a ways up this here creek. There’s a little brush there for shelter once I clear a spot. It won’t be much for a while, but it's got a right pretty view of the mountains.”
Kate smiled. “That sounds lovely, Andrew.”
“It sure enough is. And, well, I was wonderin’ … I mean, I was hopin’ …” He abruptly took off his hat and turned to her. “What I mean to say is, will you marry me?”
Kate’s mouth dropped open. Of all the places her mind had gone today, this was not one of them! Marry him? She didn’t even know if they’d been officially courting! Well, she had thought that eventually, if things continued as they were going, he would probably ask her, but not for months yet, maybe even years! She hadn’t brought herself to even face the possibility, not with everything that had happened in the past months. It was hard enough to simply make it to the end of each day. Kate had never anticipated coming against this question so soon. She was stunned. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to think.
Was this the path the Lord had for her? The oasis in the desert she’d been wandering in? Andrew offered her a future, a home, a life of her own. She looked up at him. His dark eyes were so sincere, so tentatively hopeful.
Did she love him? Kate didn’t know. Her heart was tangled in an unending knot, the jumble of her thoughts and feelings stubbornlyundecipherable. She respected him, she was fond of him, and he was intriguing in his own kind of way; it would definitely take a lifetime to figure out what he was thinking. Her family had accepted him into their fold already, and everyone assumed that they’d get married one day. Andrew had talked to Pa? He must have given his blessing. If her father approved, who was she to say no? But there was Ma. What would she do without her?
