The Shepherd's Betrothal (10 page)

Her tail wagged back and forth, brushing his hands. He brought the puppy bundle to his face and kissed her.

“Hi, stranger.” Ian jumped.

* * *

Hope apologized. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you.” But she'd been mesmerized by the sight of the sweet scene before her. Ian was strict with his dogs, but tender, too.

“How are ye? How's the arm?”

“Dr. Peck said it is healing well.” She held up her arm for inspection.

“What actually happened that night?”

“I was holding a coconut for Mother when the knife slipped and sliced my arm.”

“How bad was the injury?”

“The knife cut deep. The big concern is nerve damage. However, I can wiggle my fingers and still have feeling in each one.” She scanned the ranch. “You've been working hard.”

“Aye, it keeps a man honest.” Ian smiled.

“The puppies look good.” Hope was struggling for conversation. She'd been aching to see him since the accident, to thank him for what he'd done for her, but somehow the words wouldn't come. She felt shy around him, unable to forget the feeling of being in his arms.

“Tara is a good mother. Clare is doing well. She's still the smallest, but she be strong and healthy.” Ian paused then took a step toward her. “Hope, I don't want to cause ye pain but is it wise for ye and me to spend time together?”

Hope stepped back then turned her back to Ian. She closed her eyes. What had she been thinking? “I don't know. Perhaps you are right. I'm sorry for…” Ian stepped right beside her. She wanted to turn and be wrapped in his embrace as Clare had been moments before, nuzzled and kissed by Ian. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come.”

Ian nodded.

She gazed into his eyes. Her pulse quickened. “I wanted to thank you for helping me after the accident.”

“It was me pleasure, Hope.”

“It has been a difficult few months since I was… I'm sorry, I can't.”

“I be here if ye would like to discuss it.”

“Not now, Ian. I can't.”

“It can't be worse than I am imagining.”

Hope looked away from Ian's penetrating eyes. She couldn't tell him what happened when she was working for Hamilton Scott. She still didn't understand it herself. How could she explain it when she didn't know?

Ian reached out and placed his forefinger under her chin and lifted it until their eyes met. “I am concerned about ye not being confident in who God made ye to be. Ye are an astute woman. Ye calculate numbers and figures in yer head faster than any other person I know. And yet ye spend yer time changing bedsheets.”

Hope turned away. Did she want this much honesty between them? “You don't understand.”

Ian took her by the shoulders and turned her around, his eyes brighter than she'd ever seen them before. He stepped closer and cupped her face in his hands.

“Then explain it to me,” he said. He pulled her to him and she stepped into his embrace as his lips captured her own. His kiss was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. There was a depth to it that calmed her even as her heart began to race.

He stepped back. “I'm sorry, I should not have done that.”

Hope blinked her eyes open. She started to shake.

“I'm sorry, Hope. I should not have…”

She reached out and caressed his face. “Nonsense.”

He wrapped her in his arms for a few long moments then gently pulled away a bit. “Hope, can ye honestly see yerself living in this cabin?”

Hope looked at the quaint wooden structure then back at Ian. She placed her hands on his chest and stepped back. “For a time, I suppose I could.”

“Aye, and that be just one of the problems between us.”

Hope cocked her head. “Are you saying that because I would want a bigger home one day that it would be a problem between us?”

“Aye. I am a simple man, with simple needs.”

“And I am…” She motioned for him to finish the sentence.

“Ye need more than a simple home.”

“I understand now. I am not the kind of wife you want.” She felt the heat rise up her neck and face. “You want one who would be content living in this one-room house with babies at her feet, cooking your meals without a thought or concern about one day having more.”

“No, it's not that. I'm not sayin' this proper like. I like ye, Hope, very much but…”

“I understand.” She spun around and headed for the door.

What had she ever done to say to him that she wouldn't be content with a humble home? A good, sound home, albeit a bit small. No family could be expected to live in a small place like that with children forever, could they? “I shall see you around, Mr. McGrae.”

She wanted to turn back, but her pride kept her moving forward. She'd thought they had a chance of developing a real relationship. In the end, there wasn't any ground to build upon. He viewed her as a rich socialite and nothing more, even though she'd been spending her time cleaning chamber pots at the Seaside Inn.

It didn't matter. She had other things to do, other plans. Loving Ian McGrae was not a part of those plans, and that was fine. At least that's what she tried to tell herself as she walked away.

I
an sighed as he watched Hope walk out of his life. He'd been right to bring up the possible problem in the beginning. She needed to know his concerns and obviously he'd been right. She would not be content living in his single-room house.

Tara lifted her head and let out a whimper. She, too, would miss Hope's kindness and affection. Ian groaned. He shouldn't have kissed her. He knew kissing Hope would stir up all kinds of emotions but he never expected a kiss to be so powerful. It was more than their lips meeting; their hearts seemed to blend, as well.

How could that be?

“I'm sorry, girl. I'm afraid Miss Lang will not be a part of our lives.” That's twice he'd ruined a chance at happiness with a woman who could be a mate of incredible worth. The Proverbs 31 scripture of an ideal wife had a verse about that, if he recalled. He went into the house and pulled out his Bible, opening to the thirty-first Proverb. “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies.”

“I found her, Lord,” he said aloud. “But I don't have the rubies.”

He closed his Bible and headed for the back pasture to bring his sheep in. It was time to stop regretting the decisions he should have made. Even if he had honored the betrothal she would never have been happy in his meager cottage. She was a precious jewel worthy of someone with more.

Then the first part of the verse hit him again: “a virtuous woman.” How virtuous could she be? Granted, he didn't know exactly what happened but his mind went to her being put in a compromising situation. What else could it be? But then again, she wasn't the type… He argued with himself the entire time he walked out to the pasture.

“Who am I to judge Hope, Lord?”

* * *

He saw her at a distance in church the next Sunday but declined to speak to her. What could he say? He turned to leave and Gabriel came up beside him. “Haven't seen you around much.”

“I've been busy.”

Gabe nodded.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ian saw a man approach Hope. She stiffened. He reached out for her. She pulled away. Ian marched toward Hope. He needed to protect her.

Gabe grabbed Ian's arm and stopped him. “I'll handle it.”

Gabe spun around and headed over toward Hope and the stranger. Before Gabe got to them the man sidled away.

Ian's back stiffened. Ian glanced at the retreating individual and noticed he was wearing gentlemen's clothing. His gaze turned back to Hope. Gabe had his arm around her and was leading her out of the sanctuary. He glanced back at the gentleman and took a step forward. He might not be from the same social class but manners and proper respect toward a woman, any woman, especially Hope, demanded a reprimand.

“Ian, it's good to see you.” Richard Arman came over and shook his hand. “How are you? How's that flock coming?”

“They are healthier. Me ram and the five sheep from me father's herd should be arriving in the next few days.”

“Depending on the winds and rains.”

“Precisely. How is yer wife?”

“Better. She still isn't ready to come to church and sit on the hard pews for the entire service but the doctor says she's doing well and we'll be able to announce the good news to folks soon.” Richard beamed. Ian didn't know if he'd ever seen a man happier at the prospect of becoming a father.

“How's the issue regarding your property going?”

“Slower than a snail crossing a path of salt. Mr. Greeley is surprised at the pace. The judge saw that it was a false claim and rescinded his order but another claim was filed with another judge a couple of days later. It is all very peculiar.”

“It is strange. I've heard of border disputes before, but most of those have been squared away and both parties agreed to the new survey. But this, there is something odd about it.”

“Ben agrees. He's working to try and find the person responsible for the claims and it seems he's finding other errors.” Ian leaned in closer. “He believes someone be changing the titles and claims. Thankfully, the Sanderses still had their original paperwork.”

“I will continue to pray for you and the Sanderses. This must be weighing on them.”

“They seem to be taking it in stride. They know they owned the land and have their deeds all in order. I wish I were as trusting as they are.”

“There is something to be said about getting older and knowing the Good Lord will make things right even if you have to struggle for a while.”

“Aye, they have that peace.”

“And you, my friend, do not, do you?”

“I've been trying to trust the Lord but I keep running back to me own judgments from time to time.”

Richard tapped him on the back. “Don't we all, my friend, don't we all. It's been good catching up with you.”

“Give Grace me love and prayers.”

“Thank you, Ian. Good day.”

“Good day.” Ian watched as Richard Arman headed off toward the Seaside Inn. Richard was a lucky man to have such a loving wife at his side, one who worked just as hard as he did. Ian paused his thoughts. Hope could be that kind of a wife, too. The voice in his head flashed through all the times he'd seen her working hard for her friend.

Did I misjudge again, Lord?

* * *

Hope dressed for the Dia de Muertos, the Latin holiday known as the Day of the Dead. Folks who were not from a Hispanic background were surprised and a bit bewildered by the event. She smiled at the thought. In true tradition, it focused on remembering friends and family who had passed away. Where it went a little too far for Hope's taste was in bringing food to the graves or building private altars to their ancestors. However, she loved the festive atmosphere, the parades, the music and the celebration.

And today, Hope needed some cheer. Hamilton Scott approaching her in church was a bit more than she'd expected. It had been nearly four months since he'd fired her for no reason. Well, there was a reason. But he didn't want to hear the truth about the careless documentation of his employees. Mr. Scott wanted her to come back to work for him, no apology, no admission of any wrong-doing on his part. And she was to simply accept his offer as if nothing had happened?

Hope would not submit herself to that kind of treatment again. Because she was a woman, he saw her as expendable, and she knew, given the right circumstances, he would fire her again with no cause. What bothered her most was his approaching her in church, hinting that if she would simply apologize…

But worse than her encounter with Hamilton Scott was seeing Ian and knowing he thought her unworthy or unwilling to love him as he was. The ever-present knot in her stomach twisted again. Especially in light of the kiss they had shared.

Hope sighed. She looked in the full-length mirror at her dress. It was bright and colorful, giving the impression of happiness. She would not let anyone know her heart and her feelings of unworthiness. At one time, she would have thought it impossible that she would be so insecure, but there was no denying it now. She'd been judged by Hamilton Scott to be unworthy. And she'd been judged by Ian to be unworthy of his life and life choices. She couldn't work for her father in the investment company because people wouldn't accept a woman in that business. Besides, he already had a secretary who'd been working for them.

“What am I good for, Lord?”

She sat down in the reclining chair in her room and opened her Bible to the familiar verses from the thirty-first Proverb. “‘She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.' I don't work with wool or flax but I do quilt and like working with fabric and designing dresses.” Even Grace had asked her if she wanted to be a dressmaker. She nibbled her lower lip. “Should I, Lord? Should I strike out on my own?”

She read further. “She considereth a field, and buyeth it.” She had been earning some money and her father had started to pay her for her time going over some of the business proposals.

Hope got up and walked over to her desk. She started a list of the various steps one would need to take to start a dressmaker's business. She would drive through St. Augustine and count how many dressmakers lived and worked in the city. Knowing the competition was one of the first requirements for assessing whether or not a business would be sound.

For the first time in months, she felt better, like she had a plan. She continued mapping out the necessary steps and what she would need to investigate until her mother called her. “Are you coming?” Sally Lang asked from behind the closed door.

“Sorry, Mum. I'll be right down.” Hope left her paperwork on her desk. She had a new direction for her life, a new purpose. She might not have a husband or any prospects at the moment, but she was encouraged.