65

Rachel displayed a bolt of cloth for Lupe Carstairs, a soft green cotton. “I think this is a good shade for you. It brings out the honey color in your skin.”

Lupe fingered the material. She cocked her head to one side. “I am not sure. Can you make, perhaps, green down here—” she gestured—“and white up here?”

“A white bodice? Of course—that would be beautiful on you. Let me show you some options.”

As she reached for another bolt of cloth, the bell over the door rang. Joshua Carstairs closed the door behind him. He took off his hat and gave a slight bow of his head toward Rachel. “Afternoon, Miss Stone.”

“Mr. Carstairs.” This was the first time she had seen Joshua Carstairs since Mark’s attack, and it was the closest she had ever been to him. The hard planes of his face softened when Lupe skipped over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek.

“Mi marido,” she said, taking his hand, “come see what Rachel is showing me.”

He walked to the counter, his gaze not leaving Rachel’s.

“Miss Stone, I apologize for what my brother did to you.” He stopped as if unsure what to say next. “There’s no excuse. I shoulda been keepin’ a better eye on him.”

“There’s no need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, I knew he had designs on you. I just never expected him to go that far.”

“Mr. Carstairs, you’ve got enough on your mind without fretting over me.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll be all right.” She looked at Lupe. And I will stay all right with friends like Martha and Annabelle and now Lupe. And God.

He turned to Lupe. “I’ve got a meeting at the bank, and then Avery’s comin’ in to talk about how the ranch is doing. I’ll probably be tied up until supper.” He sighed. “I’ll be glad when this whole business is over and we can get back to normal. I ain’t got the head for this business stuff.”

Rachel noticed the tightness in his jaw. “What a burden you must be carrying.”

He looked at her, shrugged. “Kind of goes with the territory in this family. I’m just glad I got my girl here.”

He kissed Lupe and left.

Lupe’s shoulders sagged as her husband walked out. She turned to Rachel. “You are right. He carries too much, and he worries about his padre.”

“Have you told him what Sam did to you?”

Lupe lowered her eyes and shook her head. “It would not help anything now. I will wait until Señor Sam comes back.” She looked up. “You will help me, sí?”

“Sí. Yes. I will help you, and so will Annabelle and Martha.”

“You are very kind.” Lupe brushed her hands over the green fabric Rachel had been showing her. “And you are better now?” she asked a little shyly. “Not so . . . afraid?”

Rachel smiled a little sadly. “I’m better. Still afraid sometimes, still sad, but I’m not going to run away. I’m not going to let Mark or anyone else keep me from what God wants for me.”

Lupe tilted her head, a quizzical look on her pretty face. “And you know this? You know what God wants?”

“I know He wants me to be free.” Rachel reached over to take her new friend’s hand, daring to whisper what the Lord had been teaching her as she studied and prayed the last few nights.

“And I know He wants me to love.”