Page 64 of Mail-Order Bride Runaway
The sun was warm overhead making it pleasant to remain outdoors. Matt warned them, “This weather can’t last forever. We might as well enjoy it.” As a group, they turned back to Andy’s house and sat on the porch.
Della couldn’t help but notice it allowed them a good view of anyone approaching from the road. That fact only partially relieved her concern because someone could sneak through the trees and come up at their back. She edged closer to Andy. Even if Mr. Hartman should manage to approach them, she comforted herself with the knowledge that he’d be confronted by four Shannon men plus Wally and Alfred. Her shoulders sank and she relaxed.
Andy didn’t say anything but the increased pressure on her side suggested he’d noticed.
The evening meal was a simple affair. Afterward, she and Andy retired to the parlor— “As Ma called it,” he said with a laugh.
Late day shadows filled the room. He lit a lamp and pulled the drapes over the windows. At his invitation, she chose a book and sank into a chair. Knowing she wouldn’t be at the ranch long enough to read a full-length story, she’d chosen a book of poetry.
She opened to the first page. “Pa used to read poems to me.”
“Ma read to us from that book.” His smile as he looked at the tome in her hands was warm. Remembering his mother with fondness.
“We’ve been blessed to have good and loving parents.” Her voice thickened with a mixture of sorrow and gratitude.
“I couldn’t agree more.” He leaned back in a big armchair, his feet propped on a footstool. His gaze drifted back to the book she held. “Ma sometimes punished us for rowdiness by making us read aloud one of those poems.”
“It doesn’t sound like much of a punishment. Which one?” She fanned the pages.
“It’sA Song To David. Starts on page forty-three. Look it up.”
She did so. And flipped page after page looking for the end.
Andy chuckled. “Thirteen pages. It’s the longest poem in the book.” He rocked his head back and forth. “It’s a good enough poem but so long.” A weary sigh. “I can say much of it by heart. The last stanza is the best in my opinion. Maybe because it’s last.” He grinned. “‘Glorious—more glorious, is the crown of Him that brought salvation down, By meekness, call'd thy Son: Thou art stupendous truth believ'd. And now the matchless deed's achiev'd, determin'd, dar'd, and done.’”
An almost reverent silence filled the room. The words washed through her like a blessing.
She drew in a sweet breath and turned to the beginning to read the poem in its entirety. When she finished, she lay her head back on the chair, a contented smile on her lips.
“I see it speaks to you too.”
“It’s glorious.” She used a word repeated often in the poem. “How wise of your mother to have you read those words. Doesn’t seem like much of a punishment though.”
“We always left the room calm and peaceful. I suppose that’s what she hoped would happen.”
They smiled at each other across the distance. The air shimmered with peace and promise. God’s promises, she informed herself. She could ask for nothing more, nothing better, than to know He would guide and protect her.
Her fears relieved, her faith restored, she parted ways with Andy in the hallway and went to her room where she checked to make sure the window was securely fastened. She put a hairbrush on the ledge. If anyone tried to gain entrance, the brush would fall, and the noise alert her. The green drapes were heavy, meant to keep out cold drafts. They would also keep out prying eyes and intruders. She pulled them closed before she climbed into bed. Words and phrases of the poem rang through her mind, songs of courage and deliverance.All Nature, without voice or sound, repli'd, "O Lord, thou art.”
She had indeed seen nature revealing God. Had seen love displayed between those on the ranch. And had been blessed by her visit. She would return home a stronger, more faithful, more trusting woman.
The next morning,she hurried from the room just as Andy stepped from his. Had he purposely timed his exit to coincide with hers? Her heart fluttered like a caged bird newly released and uncertain of how to handle its freedom. She pressed back her feelings and questions and greeted him.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
“I did. Thanks. How about you?”
“I’d say I slept like a baby but—”
His reminder of his early claim of such made her chuckle. His eyes were warm with humor and—
She jerked away. It was concern she saw. Nothing more. Warmth filled her cheeks. Hoping no one would notice the color that must surely have accompanied the rush of heat, she hurried to the kitchen to help Mrs. Bennet.
Andy followed at a more leisurely pace and circled the room, looking out each of the windows before he took the coffee Mrs. Bennet offered.
Guilt stung Della’s eyes as she realized her own thoughts and feelings about Andy had consumed her to the extent she’d forgotten about Mr. Hartman. It wasn’t a mistake she could afford.God, please make that man find something else or someone else to pursue.Surely there were women who wouldn’t mind living with a man such as him. She grinned to herself as she allowed a hope that he’d find a woman ten times meaner than himself.
Over breakfast, Andy announced he and the others would be working in the yard today. “We’ve colts to train. The chicken house to prepare for winter. Corral fences to check.”
