The Brides of Chance Collection (59 page)

These would be so charming in my cabin back at Chance Ranch. I always wanted to decorate with a splash of color. I would have loved to hang some of my landscapes on the wall. I’d put one right over the foldaway desk
. She closed her eyes and imagined how different the cabin would seem with paintings resting against the freshly whitewashed walls, her first quilt cushioning the bed, and the sprigged curtains fluttering in the warm summer breeze while Shortstack batted the edges.
And if I looked out the window
,
I’d see the garden in full bloom
.

She shook the thought away. She had a new life now—a home of her own and independent means. She purposely strode over to her desk and picked up her sketchbook.

Settling into a nearby chair, she began flipping through the pages, setting aside those she thought would make the best paintings. The various landscapes of Chance Ranch tugged at her heart. There was the homestead as it stood when she left, her garden beginning to blossom. Here she’d given her imagination free rein, depicting lavish blossoms amid a sea of green.

Sorrow engulfed her as she set that one aside. Putting up that portrait for sale would be like selling her dreams.
Maybe I can go back someday to visit Miriam and see Caleb
. Somehow that thought only made her more aware of how she’d be missing Caleb’s birth.

What if something goes wrong, and I’m not there to help?
Fear washed over her.
There’s nothing I can do all the way out here
. She wanted to cry at the very thought of not being there for Miriam, who’d given her so much.

Paul always prayed. I could, too
. For the first time, Delilah didn’t push the thought away. What harm could come from it if she tried? At best, she’d gain God’s blessings for her cousin and some comfort for herself. At worst, it wouldn’t work and she’d feel just the same as she did now—helpless and alone.

She took a deep breath and plunged in. “Lord, I know I have no right to ask You for anything when I’ve denied You for so long. To be honest, I’m still not sure I can trust You, but I’m not asking this for myself. Please be with Miriam and Caleb while I can’t. I’m not free to go to them.”

The thought of Paul’s stoic expression as she’d waved good-bye stung her deeply. How could she face him when he’d made it clear she hadn’t made the choice he wanted her to?

I still can. Didn’t I just pray? Doesn’t that mean something?
Plagued by her thoughts, Delilah pulled open her dresser. Surely if she began painting, she’d exhaust this restless energy. She reached into the drawer and saw her mother’s Bible resting beside a folder of her very first sketches.

Maybe the answer won’t come from my hands
, Delilah realized.
There’s no shame in admitting I might be wrong
. She picked up the Bible, her fingers sliding over the leather, worn smooth by her mother’s hands.

Trembling, she clasped it to her, hugging it tight. She hadn’t opened it since Mama died. Crawling back in bed, she laid it on the pillow beside her, letting it fall open.

“ ‘If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us,’ ” she read.

I never said I had no sin
, Delilah protested, but her gaze stayed riveted to the page. The words seemed strangely familiar, and she remembered Paul quoting this passage the morning he’d broken his arm and taught her to gather eggs.

“ ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ ”

I haven’t confessed them
, she admitted.
But since I have sinned, even if I did repent
,
why would He be faithful and just to forgive me?

Shortstack hopped onto the bed, reaching out a dainty paw to bat the frayed edge of the ribbon Mama used as a placeholder. Gently pushing the kitten away, Delilah flipped over to the bookmark and found a marked passage in John 3.

“ ‘For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ ”

I remember learning this when I was little. That’s what was niggling in the back of my mind when Paul spoke about living forever!
Excitement mounting, she kept reading.

“ ‘For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.’ ”

That’s me. This is what Paul was trying to tell me. Because I don’t believe in God, I’m condemned. But I don’t feel lost in despair because Mama died. She believed in this. And it’s not too late for me to believe, too. But can I trust Him?

That thought brought her up cold, until she remembered what Miriam had pointed out.
“If you give Paul your hand, you’re trusting it to God in a way.”

“I do trust Paul. I trust him because he’s not like Papa.” For the first time, she allowed herself to make the comparison. “He won’t put an insubstantial dream above my feelings.”

But Paul put God before my feelings
. The realization took her breath away and made her head whirl.
And I trust Him enough to put Miriam and Caleb in His hands. When did God stop being some vague notion and an important part of my life?

“When you let Me.”

Tears trickled down Delilah’s cheeks as she prayed long into the night, thanking God for His unfailing love and forgiveness and finally accepting her need of them.

Chapter 18

P
aul corralled the last steer and walked Speck over to where Logan and Bryce rested on their mounts, deep in conversation.

“No question about it.” Logan’s somber pronouncement made Paul uneasy. “It has to be done.”

“What has to be done?” The way the two of them jumped hardly offered any reassurance. “What’re you two scheming now?”

“I’m calling a Chance vote, that’s what.” Logan’s bravado wavered somewhat when he snuck a glance at Bryce for confirmation.

“About what?” Paul walked Speck a step closer, pleased that his younger brothers stood their ground, but irritated nonetheless.

“You’ll find out along with Gideon, Titus, and Daniel. There’re on their way over now.” Bryce pointed to three men on horseback.

Paul shifted in the saddle, anxious to find out what was afoot and suddenly eager to get back to work.

“What’re y’all lollygagging around for?” Daniel grumped as soon as they all stood within earshot.

“Logan and Bryce”—Paul jerked a thumb in their general direction—“are calling a Chance vote.”

“About what?” Titus and Gideon seemed just as wary as Paul felt.

“Well,” Logan said, straightening in the saddle, “no offense to Miriam and Alisa, who do their best around here, we know, but seems as though things around here are on the decline.”

“Yep. We’ve gotten used to certain…comforts,” Bryce interjected. “So basically, what we’re saying is—”

“We want to eat good food again!” Logan abandoned any attempt to make their cause seem lofty.

“Miriam needs her rest.” Gideon glowered at the upstarts. “She’s due this month!”

“Aw, anyone can see she’s ’bout ready to pop, Gideon,” Bryce soothed. “We wasn’t talkin’ ’bout her.”

“Well, Alisa hasn’t been well, either,” Titus groused.

“You don’t get it,” Logan grumbled. “We ain’t complaining about your wives; we just have a solution. A way of making sure they’re not overworked and we’re not underfed.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Paul barked as soon as he saw where this entire debacle was headed.

“Oh, yes, they do.” Daniel’s habitual scowl disappeared into a cheeky grin. “All in favor of bringing Delilah back?”

Only Speck backed up Paul’s nay, and even that was more of an equine whinny than anything else.

“And we know how Miriam and Alisa would vote if they were here. Motion passed. Now I vote Paul goes to fetch her.” Daniel leaned back, pleased as punch to see Paul outvoted once again. “That settles it. You’re going.”

Less than an hour later, Paul sat on the buckboard, driving toward Delilah.
Lord, I have to say I have my doubts about this. I’m not sure if I can bring her back and not aim to keep her. Please give me strength to do Thy will. Please watch over my love
.

As he passed through town, he pulled up in front of the mercantile. He clomped toward the back, his heavy footsteps suiting his mood.

“Hello there, Paul. Let me just grab my bag, and we’ll get to Miriam straight away!” Reba bustled through the curtain before he could get a word out.

“Not yet, Reba!”

She poked her head out and peered at him. “No?”

“No. But Miriam sent this with me.” He thrust a letter toward the older woman. “She said it might be her last chance to write her parents before the babe comes.”

Reba clucked her tongue. “And to think you had me all riled. Couldn’t it have waited until next Sunday?”

“Probably,” Paul allowed, “but I was heading through anyway.”

“Where you headed?”

“San Francisco.”

A knowing glint shone in Reba’s eyes, and Paul hastened to correct her. “Miriam and Alisa need the help, that’s all.”

“Sure it is.” Reba swapped him a handful of peppermint sticks for the letter. “For your trip.”

Paul chuckled as he left the store, certain she’d intentionally given him peppermint rather than black licorice because she thought there might still be a future for him and Delilah.

Lord, I hope she’s right
.

Delilah hummed happily, if a bit off-key, as she walked back to her studio from the Munroes’ place.

The fledgling city bustled almost nonstop; from boots clicking on boardwalks to buildings being built, one could never escape the sounds. Since the establishment of the San Francisco Bar Association, businesses had sprung up seemingly overnight, relying on Joshua Norton’s plan to bridge the bay between San Francisco and Oakland. As prosperous and energetic a place as this was, she would gladly trade it all to be sitting by the fishing hole at Chance Ranch.

Thank You, Lord! They still want my paintings even if I have to ship them from Chance
Ranch. Now…

Her jaunty step slowed as she contemplated what she planned.
Please give me the courage to go back. I don’t know if You will bring me and Paul together or not. If not, it’ll break my heart
.

Fresh doubts flooded over her.
No, no, no! I am putting my faith in You, Lord! Even if I don’t stay at Chance Ranch, the Munroes have been so kind as to assure me of a place here. Still, I do wish there were some way I could be sure I’m doing the right thing
.

She turned onto the walkway to her studio and halted when she saw someone peering into her window. Despite her instinct to leave immediately, something held her fast. Those broad, powerful shoulders, the brown hair curling beneath the brim of a well-worn hat—Delilah’s heartbeat quickened.

“Paul?” He must have heard her hopeful whisper, because he froze, then turned to face her.

Oh my. Lord, I just asked for a sign, and there’s no questioning this has to be one, but his eyes are guarded. Why is he here?

Sunlight framed Delilah, bathing her in gold and making her even more beautiful than he’d remembered.
Lord, she seems so serene, like she fits here. I see none of the sadness she bore when she left us. Is she finally happy, and I’m supposed to ask her to leave it all behind?

He cleared his throat. “I need to talk with you for a minute.”

“Come on in.” Her warm smile sent tingles down his spine as he followed her into the charming structure. It resembled a cottage more than anything, but her easel stood by a large window next to a worktable.

With easy grace, she sank into an armchair by the small fireplace and gestured for him to do the same. She waited patiently for him to speak.

“I’ve come to bring you back to Chance Ranch.”
Oh, well done, blurting it out like that. This was a mistake. Will she be disappointed I didn’t come to fetch her as my bride?
Even worse, will she be relieved?