Chapter 11

Louise pushed past Cecil and raced toward where she’d left the rabbits to soak.

“You drop that right now.” She waved and yelled.

A coyote dragged one of the carcasses from the pot and backed away.

“No! You can’t have it.”

Beady eyes darted to Louise. The animal dropped the rabbit and bared his teeth.

Cecil’s heart hammered against his ribs as she challenged the coyote. It wasn’t large, but big enough to tear a hole in her throat. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. “Louise, let it go.”

“No. That mangy thing can find its own dinner.” She picked a clump of dirt and tossed it.

The coyote jumped out of the way and then darted back for his dropped meat.

She dived for it. “No. Get your own food.”

“Louise! Have you forgotten it’s a wild animal with a mouthful of sharp teeth? Let him have it.”

He rushed forward, intending to intervene. She ignored him.

The coyote yipped as she screamed at him. It withdrew another step, then looked at the dropped rabbit and inched forward.

“It’s not for you.” She scooped the meat up and gave the wild critter a fierce look.

Cecil half expected her to smack the animal. Good thing it was out of reach. But would she let that stop her?

The coyote faced her, growling.

“Go away.” Her free arm windmilled at the animal. “Go away.”

With that and an injured look, the animal trotted away, casting a reproving glance over his shoulder.

Huffing her indignation, Louise carried the meat to the river and squatted in the gravel next to the water to wash the carcass. “Lord, thanks for making it possible for me to save this meat.”

Up on the bank, Cecil stood with his arms akimbo and shook his head. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“What?” She shot him a look over her shoulder. “All I did was rescue our meat.”

“From a wild animal.”

“Pfft. It was only a coyote. They’re sneaky creatures.” Another snort. “He can hunt his own dinner.” She shook the water from the carcass. “I’ll have to cut off a few spots and throw away. But not to the greedy little coyote. No sir. I’ll bury the meat so deep he’ll never get it.”

Cecil roared with laughter. When her expression remained fierce, he quelled his amusement. “I better remember never to cross you. I don’t want you hunting me down. You’d be relentless.”

His laughter resumed and carried across the river, bringing Bertie and Marnie to the far bank to see what was going on. He waved. Oh, how he’d like to share the details with them.

Louise climbed the bank, bearing her trophy. She stopped in front of him. Fire flashed in her eyes. “I fail to see the humor.”

Was it a remnant of her anger with the coyote or—he began to edge back—was she annoyed by his laughter?

He tried but failed to stop his amusement from bubbling out.

“You—” He backed further and faster at the way her eyes darkened. “I think you would have wrestled that meat from him if he hadn’t dropped it.”

“Are you telling me you’d let it go without a fight?” The challenge was impossible to miss.

“All I can say is I’m glad it wasn’t a bear.” His shudder was only fractionally pretend.

He’d backed up clear to the wagon and could go no further. She didn’t stop until she was toe to toe with him, the rabbit hanging from one hand. Would she use it as a weapon against him? Because he laughed?

“Louise, you’re beautiful when you’re all fierce like that.” And before he could give it a second thought, he leaned toward her and brushed his lips to hers.

She jolted back. Or did he? Her eyes widened, but they’d lost all fight and softened.

Everything inside him slowed. His heartbeat. His breathing. His thinking. Nothing existed apart from the tingling of his lips. One thought surfaced. She had every reason to be offended and could show her objection any way she wanted.

Well, another thought made its way to his befuddled head.

He ought to apologize.

And then a third.

He’d rather enjoyed it.

“Louise.” Her name was but a breathy whisper.

She blinked. Swallowed loudly, ground around, and hurried to the campfire.

It took another minute before Cecil could pull himself together to follow her.

Pretending to be busy with the meat, she turned her back to him.

He circled the fire until he faced her. “Louise, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“And now you regret it?”

Regret? Not for one moment. He’d never forget the way that kiss made him feel. “I regret offending you.”

Slash. Whack. She cut the carcass into pieces and put them into fresh water, adding salt and pepper and other things. He couldn’t say exactly what because his attention was on her expression.

He waited for her to respond. And held on to the hope she’d say she wasn’t offended. Had, in fact, found it enjoyable.

“We’re about out of wood.”

His shoulders sank. “I’ll get more.” Grabbing the ax, he ventured back to the trees. On the way, he met Hazel meandering along the trail with Petey. He hadn’t even noticed her absence.

She paused to give him a hard look. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing. Except Louise stopped a coyote from stealing some meat.” He grinned as his amusement returned. “I thought she was going to wrestle him for it.”

Hazel blinked twice. “Is she all right?”

“Better you should ask if the coyote is in one piece. He is.” Cecil swung the ax over his shoulder and marched onward. Not only his face smiled; his whole insides did.

Louise was quite the woman. She’d fit well in the West.

More than that, she’d make a fine wife. Someone a man could count on through thick and thin. She’d be at her husband’s side to assist, to encourage, and—he chuckled—to amuse.

Would she see Cecil in the role of her husband?

Why not? They got along fine. He admired her. She seemed to like him. He had a few more hours, perhaps even days, to make her realize they belonged together.

What could he do to make her see that?

He’d kissed her.

It took all of Louise’s self-control not to brush her fingers over her lips and try to capture the feeling that lingered. Not that she could even say what it was. Only that it filled her entire being.

“What’s this I hear about you tackling a coyote?”

Hazel’s question jerked Louise back to here and now.

Guilt flooded up her body and pooled in her cheeks. Would Hazel hopefully think her heightened color was due to working over the fire? She didn’t want her friend to know Louise had enjoyed spending time with Cecil. Heaven forbid that she should learn about the kiss.

Why was she having to constantly remind herself that Hazel deserved Cecil? And why did the idea grind at her insides?

“It was nothing. I simply wasn’t prepared to let some sneaky animal steal our meal.”

Gritting her teeth, she hung the pot over the fire. It would stew the rest of the afternoon. There’d be meat for supper and enough for another meal…maybe two.

“Lord,” she murmured under her breath. “Help me be faithful and true.” Not only to God but also to her friend. She went to the wagon and dug through her belongings until she found what she wanted. Her Bible. To her shame, she’d spent far more time reading a novel than reading God’s word. “Forgive me. No wonder my thoughts are so wayward.”

Clasping the Bible in her hands, she called to Hazel that she was going to the river to read. At least, when Cecil returned, he would be alone with Hazel.

She walked beside the water for a time until she found a grassy shelf and sat, her legs hanging over the bank. Resting her head back, pressing to the rough bark of a tree, she tried to sort her thoughts. She was good at distancing herself from unpleasant or difficult things and focusing on her duties and responsibilities.

Only this time, her thoughts jumped around, always landing back at the same spot.

Cecil had kissed her.

And she’d enjoyed it. More than that, she ached for more kisses.

Shaking her head, she opened her Bible. “Please, God. I confess I am fickle. Send me something to strengthen me.” But rather than read, she closed her eyes and let memories flit through her thoughts. Ma reading her Bible. Giving her verses to encourage Louise throughout her life. Her smile was sad while remembering her mother’s death.

But strength flowed into her heart as she recalled not only those verses but also her vow to become a nurse and help the sick and hurting. She didn’t intend to forget that.

Another memory came. Hazel visiting to encourage her.

Louise leaned over her knees and groaned. What kind of friend was she to repay that kindness by kissing Cecil? And wanting more of the same?

It must never happen again.

She read page after page, seeking so many things—strength, forgiveness, freedom from her forbidden longings. Her neck ached, and she sat back. No specific verse had jumped out at her, but remembering God’s love and faithfulness had given her the peace she desired.

Rocks rolled loose, drawing her attention to someone approaching. She looked up to see Cecil.

Her first response was to flee. Flee temptation. But she needed to face this situation head-on.

“Hazel said you were by the river.” He sat beside her. “You’re farther away than I expected. But I suppose I don’t need to worry about a wild animal attacking you.” Amusement rumbled in his words, drawing her gaze to him. He had such a kind, pleasant face. One that would be a welcome sight day after day.

No. She must not think such things.

“Cecil, I don’t want you to kiss me again.” Every word tore flesh from her heart.

“What? No. You can’t mean that.”

She looked away because if she saw pain in his eyes, she would weaken. “But I do. I am going West to be a nurse. Nothing must stand in my way.” The lump in her throat stopped her momentarily. “When Ma died, I promised myself I would make sure others didn’t suffer needlessly.” Her mother died without hearing those words, but they meant something.

“Hazel’s my friend. I can’t let her down.” She scrambled to her feet; her Bible clutched in her hand…a solid reminder that a person should not follow the desires of one’s fickle heart. No verse spoke specifically to her as she read, but now one popped into her thoughts. The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked: who can know it? She couldn’t remember where it was found in the Scriptures, but the truth, the warning of the words, was as plain as the sky overhead.

When Cecil rose and took a step after her, she held up a hand.

“Please don’t follow me.” She would not look back, fearing she’d see the disappointment on his face and would be too weak to walk away. Nor would she pay heed to his sharply indrawn breath.

She was doing the right thing, and that was all that mattered.