“Sometimes He does though,” She tended to Mrs. Stone before she finished her thought. “The Stonesbelieve it is up to us to overcome evil with good. And leave no room for vengeance. ‘Vengeance is mine. I will repay,’ the Bible says.”
Her voice began gently and ended up on a harsh note.
He almost reached to touch her arm. “Would you prefer vengeance at your own hands?”
“Of course not. How would repaying evil with evil have a positive effect?”
Something rattled against the side of the house. “Just a branch blowing by,” he said.
“How old were you when you lost your father?” The lamplight made her features appear sharp. They weren’t. She had a kind face and a gentle smile.
He sought a way to answer her. He’d lost his father long before he and Ma had moved away from him when Nash was thirteen. A year later, his father was dead. That provided more information than she sought and certainly more than he intended she should hear. “I was fourteen.”
Her hand, cool from dipping into the water, touched his forearm. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is to lose a parent.”
“Thanks. God led us to a new home. Ma found work with a kind rancher. She married him two years ago.” Ma had waited until Nash had established his own life before she remarried, explaining that she didn’t want him to ever feel she wasn’t available for him. “How old were you when you lost your parents? And I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. I was eleven. Eight years ago. It’s a pain that will never go away, but God provided me a new home with the Stones.”
“It’s also eight years since my pa died.”
Her gaze found his. Her brown eyes were even darker in the low light. She studied him hard, perhaps trying to read a special meaning into the fact that they’d both lostparents near the same time. A smile caught at the corners of her mouth. “My math is good enough to realize you are twenty-two. And already you have a ranch.”
“And horses. Don’t forget the horses.”
“On no. Of course not.”
They grinned at each other.
“My math is good enough to know you are nineteen. And?—”
“An old maid.” She wrinkled her nose.
“I was about to say, ‘And busy doing good deeds.’”
“That sounds almost as dire as old maid. Or perhaps one goes with the other.”
A verse he’d heard recently sprang to mind. “Doesn’t the Bible say we shouldn’t let our good be evil spoken of?” Would she hear the gentle chiding in his voice?
She blinked. Opened her mouth and closed it. Drew in an audible breath before she spoke. “Thank you for that reminder.”
“You’re most welcome.” His grin widened. How pleasant to talk to this young woman. She intrigued him with her caring and kindness and quick humor.
Mrs. Stone sat up, throwing her arms into the air and mumbling unintelligible words.
Addie caught her by the shoulders. “Mother, everything is fine. Lie back and rest.” To Nash, she said, “She’s worse. I believe she’s delirious. I don’t know what to do.”
Five
Panic clawed at Addie. What if Mother died? The Stones were all she had in this world.
Nash’s hands covered Addie’s as he helped her press Mother to the bed. Then he grabbed the basin of water and hurried to the pail. “Here’s cold water.” He set the basin at Addie’s side. “I’ll fill the bucket.” Pausing only long enough to borrow Shorty’s slicker, he stepped outside.
Rain continued to descend, and moist air raced across the floor. The door clicked shut, sealing Addie alone in the cabin. Not alone. She didn’t mean that. With Nash’s departure, all his support vanished. Not that she needed it.
I know what to do. Try and lower Mother’s fever.
Addie’s teeth chattered as she sponged Mother. The cloth grew warm as fast as she cooled it in the water. The water also grew warm. Mother continued to thrash about and mumble.
