Mason placed his hand on her shoulder, and Norah roused out of reverie, realizing that they’d turned off the highway toward the ranches. “Thanks, Mason. It’s been a nice day.”
“You’ve been so quiet the past several miles, I wasn’t sure you enjoyed yourself.”
“Sorry I haven’t been better company, but I’m not a very talkative person. I spend a lot of time alone with my thoughts.”
“I can understand that,” he said. “Sometimes I think I spend too much time thinking myself.”
For the past two weeks, he’d believed that Norah could become a permanent fixture in his life. But today he’d fretted because Norah seemed frightened of the environment. He’d assumed that she’d mastered her fear of the darkness, but now she seemed disturbed by the isolation of the area. On the other hand, Mason couldn’t understand how anyone could exist in a city with people living all around them. Could country and city ever mix?
“Sheila told me that even now there are long periods of time in the winter when you can’t leave the ranch.”
“Sometimes we have blizzards that close the highways. But I never mind that—it’s a good opportunity to do work on the buildings.”
“And just think of all the knitting and quilting a person could accomplish during times like that,” Norah said lightly, so Mason decided she must not be as disturbed as he’d thought.
“You enjoy your needlework?”
“Yes. I had lots of time on my hands when I was taking care of my family, and I’m not one to sit with idle hands. I make items for mission hospitals and long-term care facilities in Missouri, as well as for my family and friends. I enjoy creating pretty things, and it’s good therapy for my hands and mind.”
Dusk was falling when they arrived at the Bar 8, so Mason walked to the door with Norah and checked the downstairs to be sure all was safe. When he stepped out on the porch, Mason turned and came back to where Norah stood at the foot of the stairs. Without a word, he placed his hands on her shoulders, bent and kissed her cheek. He pushed stray tendrils back from her face before he turned toward the door.
What an unpredictable man! Norah thought as he drove away. But unpredictable in a nice way. Even after she went to bed, Norah could still feel the warm touch of his lips.
Norah marveled at the change three weeks had made in the H & H riders. She spent some of her free time observing the work in the arena or on the outdoor trail course. The volunteers with more horse experience served as mount leaders, while others walked beside the riders to give physical support as needed, to ensure the safety of the children and to reinforce the instruction of the therapist.
Discussing the matter with Sheila, Norah said, “I’d like to do more than just cook for the riders, but I don’t want to leave you with extra work. If you’re interested in volunteering, we can coordinate our schedules.”
“I’ve been wondering how I could manage to help. I rode a horse long before I could drive a truck, but the H & H directors are very particular about how their horses are handled. But surely there’s some way my horse sense can be put to use. Let’s talk to Jim and see what we can do. I know they can use more help.”
Jim was enthusiastic about the prospect of more volunteers. “Oh, yes, I can use you! You can start out with grooming and tack, then practice with the trained mount leaders and sidewalkers.”
Sheila and Norah arranged to volunteer at least an hour with H & H each day, and the volunteer work left a deep impression on Norah. As she watched the blind children learning to trust their horses, she learned a lot to improve her own riding skills. The young riders seemed to gain confidence when she related that she’d only recently started learning how to ride a horse. She was gratified that she had learned a basic knowledge of riding from Mason, but as she helped the children, she continued to learn.
The wagon ride and campfire was planned for the Thursday night before the first group of children finished their course.
“This would be a good time to celebrate their accomplishments,” Jim Hanson said. “Carolyn and I will come up with some awards, so each one can take home a certificate. We’ll present those around the campfire.”
“We can picnic in a grove of oak trees just around the bend in the river,” Sheila said. “It’s not more than two miles—and a level, easy trail.”
“That will be perfect,” Jim said. “I think we should transport everyone by wagon. Some of the children aren’t up to riding that far yet, and it would be better to have all of them feel equal.”
“Doug and I will drive two wagons filled with plenty of hay,” Mason said when they discussed the plan with him.
“Sheila and I will go earlier than the rest of you and take the food by truck,” Norah said.
“No fair,” Doug joked. “I don’t think you want to ride on the wagon. We’re trying to make you into a country woman.”
“I’ve already had enough countrifying to last out the summer,” Norah assured him.
The Niobrara, a shallow stream with occasional sandbars, was wide at the curve in the river. The wind had been strong all day, but in the cove, only a slight breeze riffled the cottonwood leaves. Doug had gone earlier in the day to mow the grass at the picnic area and to arrange the wood for the fire. He’d also cut twigs from the willow bushes for the kids to use in roasting hot dogs and marshmallows.
Sheila and Norah set up several folding tables and chairs to provide seating. Sheila volunteered to tend the fire when Norah meekly admitted she’d never started a campfire.
“We all have our talents,” Sheila assured her. “I sure can’t make cookies like these,” she added as she picked up a large no-bake cookie from a tray that Norah was arranging on the table.
They’d prepared the condiments for the hot dogs, cheese cubes and a plate of raw vegetables earlier in the day. Sheila set out the mustard, ketchup and chopped onions while she took another peanutbutter cookie from the tray.
“Promise to teach me how to cook, and I’ll teach you to make a campfire,” she said to Norah.
“Deal!” Norah agreed.
“Doug will be glad to have you give me cooking lessons. I’ve always been a tomboy and loved to be outside helping Dad, so I’m just learning to cook. We’ve only been married a year.”
The sound of singing preceded the wagons before they came in sight. Even the children who were totally blind exhibited happy faces as they rode into the cove. The Seeing Eye dogs hovered close as their charges climbed off the wagons.
The children were all city kids who’d never been on a hayride, nor had they participated in a wiener roast. Jim Hanson gave Norah a thumbs-up when the kids gathered around the fire, extending sticks that held more than one hot dog. The volunteers encouraged the children to do as much of the roasting as they could.
Mason stood to one side watching Norah as she efficiently served the children and anticipated their every need. She was compassionate to the children, but not to the point that she discouraged them from exercising their independence.
He was convinced she could have been a wonderful wife and mother, and he wondered if she had any interest in a midlife marriage.
Norah’s eyes intercepted his glance across the campfire, and he felt his face flushing. He hoped she couldn’t read his thoughts.
Doug, who stood beside Mason, nudged him in the side and said out of the corner of his mouth, “Want me to give you some advice on how to win the fair lady?”
“No, thank you.”
“It’ll be a mistake if you let her get away from you. Sheila thinks Norah likes you.”
“When did the two of you become matchmakers?”
“When you started making sheep eyes at Norah.”
Mason didn’t answer, and Doug insisted, “I’m serious, Mason. You could have had your pick of any single girl in this community for the past twenty years, but none of them stirred you up like Norah has. You should give her some serious thought.”
As if I haven’t been thinking about her constantly, Mason thought, but he was spared an answer when Sheila brought two filled plates to them. “Norah’s promised to teach me to cook, Doug. Does that make you happy?”
“I’m already happy.”
Sheila’s face brightened, and she stood on tiptoe to kiss Doug on the lips. Mason was used to their public display of devotion, and usually he wasn’t envious, but tonight he seemed to realize what he’d missed by living alone. His eyes strayed to Norah again. Was Doug right? Did she like him, too?
The coals had burned to embers when Doug swung the guitar over his shoulder.
“C’mon, kids,” he said. “Let’s sing.”
He led them in several Bible choruses, then he tipped his hat back on his forehead, saying in a joking voice, “Now you’re in for a real treat. Tonight marks the first appearance of a new Western singing group—Johnson, King and Williamson, soon to be known as the Flying K Wranglers. Just remember someday, when these names appear in the bright lights of Branson or Nashville, that you heard the premiere performance.”
They sung some of the old favorites, “Sweet Betsy from Pike,” and “Home on the Range,” closing with a hymn, “Now the Day is Over.” Norah wasn’t so confident of her singing talent, but the other three had good voices.
Norah and Sheila stayed on after the wagons left to be sure the fire was extinguished, and using the headlights of the truck, they picked up any stray trash that might have escaped.
Sheila yawned noticeably as they drove toward the ranch buildings. “Gee, I’m tired,” she said. “And we have to be up early to prepare a good breakfast for this group’s farewell meal.”
“But we’ll have a whole week to recover.”
“Ha!” Sheila jeered. “Have you forgotten that next Thursday is the Fourth of July celebration at the Flying K? That will take a lot of work.”
“And I don’t have a costume to wear. I intended to order one, but it’s too late now.”
“I have several outfits I’ve used in other years. You can wear one of those.”
“Hardly! I weigh about twenty pounds more than you do, and I’m a few inches shorter.”
“I have a pioneer woman’s dress that you can hem, and it has a full skirt. It will probably work, or you can borrow a dress from my mother—she’s about your build. She tells me that she was my size when she was a girl, but she gained weight when she had her babies, and never lost it.”
Laughing, Norah said, “I don’t even have that excuse!” Weight had become a touchy subject with Norah this summer, so she asked, “What kind of a costume are you wearing this year?”
“I’m going as Calamity Jane.”
“Who?”
“Calamity Jane—probably the Wild West’s most notorious woman. Legend has it that she was an orphan raised by soldiers at Fort Laramie. She became famous as a stage driver and a bullwhacker—that’s an ox-team driver.”
“Will it be difficult to portray her?”
“Nah,” Sheila said. “I’ll wear a pair of Doug’s dirty jeans, a coat—three sizes too big for me that I borrowed from my father-in-law—and one of his worn-out slouch hats. I’ll not indulge in Calamity’s tobacco chewing and swearing.”
“Seems like you could have found a better role model to portray,” Norah commented humorously.
“Oh, Calamity had her good points. In her heyday, she was a pretty woman, and when Deadwood, South Dakota, was ravaged with a smallpox epidemic, she was the best nurse in town. Legend holds that she got ‘religion’ in her later years.”
“Just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover, as the old saying goes.”
When they drove into the ranch yard right behind the wagons, Mason called, “Leave those tables and chairs in the truck. We’ll unload them as soon as we stable the horses.”
While Doug and Mason stored the equipment and supplies in the proper places, Sheila and Norah made preliminary plans for breakfast. Sheila put the place settings on the table. Norah mixed a batch of bran muffin batter to stand in the refrigerator overnight and prepared fresh fruit to marinate in apple cider.
When the men finished their work, Norah said, “You go on home, Sheila. All I have to do it cut up this leftover ham to put in the scrambled eggs. It won’t take long for us to finish the meal in the morning.”
Mason perched on a stool and leaned on the working island in the middle of the kitchen. He watched Norah in silence as she moved around the room. His watchful eyes made her somewhat uncomfortable.
To break the silence, she said, “Do you think the campfire idea is a good way to end the group’s activities?”
“I thought so. And Jim was enthusiastic about it. He asked us to have a campfire on the closing night for the other two groups, too. How’d it work from your angle?”
“No problem at all. We used disposable plates and cups, so the work was easier. It’s been a rewarding three weeks.”
“I haven’t been as closely involved as you’ve been, but it’s apparently been successful. Even I can notice a difference in the kids from the first week.”
“If the other two sessions go as well as this one, H & H will probably be able to continue.”
“That’s what Jim said. He wanted to know if the ranch would be available next year.”
Norah’s heart fluttered a little at that information. Already she was dreading the end of the summer when she’d be finished at the Bar 8. Or was it Mason she didn’t want to leave? If she did enroll in college, and the program continued next year, perhaps she could spend another summer in the Sand Hills. A few months away from Mason would give her a better perspective on her feelings for him.
“What did you tell Jim?”
“Nothing. I’ve got a lot of money invested in the Bar 8, and I can’t continue to operate it at a loss as I’ve been doing. The amount H & H is paying for the summer is a pittance. I wish I was rich enough to let them use the property without cost, but I’m not. Most ranchers are land poor—lots of land, but not much money. So if I have an offer for the Bar 8 this winter, I’ll have to take it.”
So much for her plans for another summer, Norah thought as she sat opposite Mason.
“The summer is moving too fast for me,” Mason said and he reached across the table and lifted Norah’s hand. “You’ve been here almost six weeks, and it’s going to be time for you to leave before I’m ready for it. When you came, you were looking for answers of where to go from here. Have you reached any conclusions?”
Her fingers curled around his. “No, not really. I suppose I keep hoping that the summer will never end.”
“Then you do like it here.”
“Very much so. I like the work, and also the country, once I got used to the solitude.” Her eyelids fluttered downward. “And I like the people, too. You’ve been very kind to me, Mason.”
“That hasn’t been hard to do. You’re special to me, Norah. You’ve given a lift to my spirits that I haven’t felt for years.”
He released her hand and walked around the table. “Ever since you’ve been here, I’ve wanted to kiss you. Would you mind very much if I kissed you now?”
Her eyes were still downcast, and she felt a flush spread over her face. She decided she shouldn’t admit how often she wondered what it would be like to have his kiss. This is your opportunity, Norah, don’t muff it, her thoughts prodded.
She lifted her head. “No, Mason, I wouldn’t mind at all.”
Eagerly, he pulled her upward and squeezed her so hard that Norah gasped. Not since her teenage years had she been held in a man’s arms, and she was nervous about it. But something in Mason’s manner soothed her as he eased his grasp and held her as if she were a priceless item that he cherished. At first, his heavy whiskers brushing against her face startled her. Then she felt a ripple of excitement as the slow caress of his lips on her cheek and mouth awakened emotions that had lain buried for years. The kiss seemed to envelop her, but she was sorry when he slowly lifted his head and stepped back.
Mason’s lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. He leaned over her again and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
“Thank you, Norah, and good night.”
The room felt empty when Mason stepped outside and closed the door. Norah held a fist to her lips, wondering how much Mason’s embrace would affect her plans for the future. Would any place she traveled to, at home or abroad, feel empty if Mason wasn’t there?