Abby tapped her foot impatiently. “Joseph, I don’t think Esther will notice if you wear the blue shirt or the darker blue shirt,” she finally called out.
Joseph glared at her. “Did I ever make comments when you spent hours in front of the mirror to go to some church event?” He shook his head choosing the light blue shirt. “Besides, you don’t know what she likes a man to wear. She may be one of those picky females.”
Abby looked blankly at Joseph. “I don’t know if she even she cares about men, let alone is picky about them.”
Joseph snapped his head towards her with a frown. “What do you mean by that?”
Abby blushed and looked down, twirling her fingers. “It’s just that I was talking with some of the mothers today—” she began quietly.
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “Leave it to you to know gossip. Nothing has changed, has it Abby?” he chastened.
Abby looked up with a glare strong enough to melt iron. “I have changed, Joseph, and it is not gossip every time that women talk. That is how women bond, feel connected—we talk, all right? And never mind what I said.” She opened the door. “I will wait outside for you,” she snapped before shutting the door firmly.
Joseph sighed. He felt bad. There was no need to make that remark. Abby was a talker—she needed to talk. That was not wrong, and he had noticed a change in just the few days he had been with her. She was much more capable and calm with no hysterics or even tears. He felt protective over Esther, unaccountably so but that wasn’t Abby’s fault. Truth was that he was actually curious what she had heard about Esther, even if it was merely gossip. Whatever he could find out to help win her over would help.
The ride was silent for the first few minutes. Abby was still clearly upset. She sat with her hands clasped and her petite chin high in the air, her lips pressed tightly together. Finally, nearing the end of the ride, Joseph decided to let go of his pride and apologize.
“Abby, I am sorry I made that remark. I know women talk, and I am glad you are making friends. I should not have said that,” he said, certain his apology would be enough. No more talk was needed.
Apparently, not for Abby.
“I tried so hard to impress you Joseph,” she blurted. “You are the only one in the family who has ever treated me like I had brains and grit. Do you know how hard and stressful it has been trying to make a good breakfast, lunch and dinner for you, and to teach in front of you? I am not complaining. I want to do all those things, but I want you to be proud of me. It has not been easy out here. I handle it because I am not of a deposition to be melancholy. I will find happiness wherever I am, but that does not mean I have not been homesick, tired, and scared. Then you have the nerve to tell me I have not changed because I was chatting with some women who brought up Esther?” Her voice threatened tears. Joseph desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He did not know how to handle tears.
“Abby, I am sorry.”
Abby sniffed, dabbing her eyes quickly. “Heavens Joseph, if I arrive to dinner red eyed and snotty, I will never forgive you,” she laughed shakily.
Joseph smiled. Abby’s jolly attitude and positive outlook was often confused with flightiness and shallow thinking. She had come out here alone and in a few months was handling things like a seasoned teacher and a mature woman. Just because she did not talk rough or have a solemn demeanor did not mean that she was not smart and capable.
Joseph shrugged, “What can I say Abby? Men are idiots. We’ll foolishly insult a wonderful woman even though we think the world of her,” he said with a brotherly shove.
Abby chuckled lightly, “Well then, at least we agree on something,” she teased. Then looking ahead, she clapped her hands. “Oh, there it is. She gave good directions. And we still have some daylight left so you can teach Michael how to ride.”
“Yeah, I don’t think his momma is keen with the idea.” Joseph bit his cheek; he did not know how to act tonight. Being forward had seemed to offend her, but he did not have a lot of time to court this woman, so he could not be timid.
“Esther is a fierce mother. Why, I heard that one of the teachers, prior to me, slapped Michael’s hand with a ruler so hard it blistered.”
Joseph clenched his hands on the reins; the desire to protect Esther and Michael was so fierce he could hardly breathe. His own father had never been around when he had been Michael’s age. There had been many times he was hurt or wronged and there was no man to defend him.
“What did Esther do?” Joseph asked.
“Well, she went storming off to the teacher. Lucinda, Sheriff Ben’s wife, said that Esther looked frightening—she was practically blazing fire. Anyway, the teacher left the next day and some of the mothers said they saw her with a swollen cheek; others say that Esther did not lay a hand on her but threatened her life. Honestly, no one really knows how, but Esther chased her away,” Abby said. “Esther is my friend and I would never lay a hand on Michael or any child, but regardless, I would be afraid if I were ever to hurt Michael. Esther is a very passionate mother.”
Joseph smiled to himself. He liked that Esther was protective.
Would she have that with their children?
The thought of Esther carrying his child formed in his head making his blood heat and his mind go dizzy. He pictured her round with pregnancy. How wonderful it would be to have a woman like her. A woman to call his own who would protect their children alongside him. A woman who would feed, love, nurture, and teach their sons and daughters. A woman who would be his partner and raise a family with him.
Joseph you don’t know if she will even have you let alone have children with you, he reminded himself. So shaking his head and trying to rid his mind of tempting thoughts he guided the horses to the house; his stomach growled with the smell of fried beef on the air.
Michael ran out to greet Joseph and Abby before Esther could stop him. He looked awfully adorable dressed up like a full-grown cowboy. He had on an old belt buckle that Esther had decorated all fancy-like to make up for her previous comment of him looking ridiculous. His white-collared shirt was undone at the neck the way Joseph wore his, and they had combed his curls in a very manly style. Esther remained inside taking several deep breaths. People did not often make her nervous. It had been years, over seven, since she had cared what people thought. Joseph, however, unsettled her. She did not like him at all. Yet, she couldn’t shake the need she felt to look especially nice tonight. Maybe it was to give herself courage at having a man in her house. His coming to her home seemed too intimate. Whatever it was, she found that she wore one of her prettiest dresses with a wide neck. Her hair was washed, brushed and styled in a flattering manner. Even now as she heard him come in laughing with Michael, a sense of both protective anger and nervous butterflies arose inside of her.
“Esther!” Abby called out, rushing forward to embrace her. Esther smiled. The schoolteacher smelled like cornbread and soup—the girl had been cooking. “Oh my, what are you making? It smells divine,” Abby exclaimed before looking around the house. “Why what a lovely home. It is so—it looks like a gingerbread house or something that belongs in a fairy tale.
“Why thank you Abby; that is the finest compliment this house has received.” Esther ushered her in. She was proud of her little home.
This home is proof that a wreck can be made whole, Esther thought.
“Momma, look!” Michael was practically jumping out of his skin. “Look what Joseph got me today in town.”
“Oh yes, he looked everywhere for those Michael,” Abby grinned.
Michael held up a pair of shiny riding boots with two silver buckles. “They are Texas Ranger boots,” Michael explained. Esther’s mouth dropped. She knew the cost of those little boots. She had been to town enough with Michael begging for them to know they were not inexpensive. She looked up at Joseph whose gaze was boring into her, waiting for her reaction.
“You really did not need to do this,” Esther said in a tone that Joseph could not understand. It was void of any emotion. No anger but also no gratitude. Her head tilted like a cautious doe. “How did you know his size?”
Joseph suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “I asked for his shoe today at school. I measured the size before going into town.”
Esther nodded taking the boots from Michael and examining them in her hands. Then with an apologetic glance at Michael she held out the boots to Joseph. “I’m sorry, but these are much too expensive for us to take. I am sure you can return them.”
Michael made a lunge for the boots, and Esther caught him with catlike skill. “But he gave them to me!” he objected.
Joseph looked at the boots and then at the steady determined gaze of Esther. A peculiar feeling overcame him. It was the feeling he had when facing an outlaw, the way they stood against each other, fingers waiting over their gun, wondering which one of them was quicker. It was a feeling of competition and adrenaline that came about when two people of equal strengths faced each other in combat.
“I am not taking the boots back,” Joseph said matching her determination. “I guess you are just going to have to keep them.” He winked at Michael who reached for the boots again. Esther lifted them out of his reach, her face growing cold.
“Well then, I insist that I pay for them.”
Joseph gave a half smile and took a step forward. Esther was by the far the most stunning standoff he’d ever had. Especially with her hair pulled back revealing such a slender neck and the deep sunset pink dress that made her cheeks rosy and eyes bright.
“They are a gift, Miss Esther,” he fully grinned. “Last time I checked, you don’t pay for a gift.”
Esther’s stoic expression cracked just a little with a smile. “Then allow me half the payment.”
Another step. The smell of sugar cookies wafted off Esther making Joseph’s head swim as he drew closer. “This isn’t a land dispute.”
No blush, no smile; she didn’t even break eye contact. Instead she lifted her eyebrows imperially, tilted her head in that alluring manner, which was enough to drive Joseph crazy, and said softly, “Is it not?”
Joseph blinked. Abby frowned, obviously puzzled as to what was happening. Esther then broke eye contact and handed the boots to Michael who snatched them with a victorious whoop. Then she looked at Joseph, her face back to its normal serenity and sweetness.
The dispute resolve, Joseph extended his hand to lead Esther into the house. She stared at the open hand. She did not want to take it. Heavens, she did not, but Joseph had just bought her son a beautiful gift. She knew she couldn’t be that rude. So steadily, hoping he could not see the sweat forming on her brow, she took his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Silver,” she said slowly.
“Joseph,” he corrected
Esther nodded apologetically, “Joseph. That was very kind of you. I am sure Michael will wear those boots to bed.” She smiled and then motioned towards the kitchen, “Shall we?”
Abby grabbed her brother’s sleeve, allowing Esther to walk ahead.
“Alright what was that about?” she hissed under her breath. “I’ve never seen Esther go so… I don’t know… cold.”
Joseph shrugged. “Let’s just say I won that round.”
Abby shook her head. “What do you mean by that?”
Joseph did not answer. A table laden with heavenly food greeted him. There were square-cut potatoes shiny with butter and sprinkled with parsley; a bowl of creamy gravy sat next to them. There was thick warm bread, hot applesauce, large fried steaks, green beans mixed with bacon and lightly roasted vegetables. Joseph felt his stomach grumble. He was a man with a hearty appetite that was usually only partially satisfied with grits, dry biscuits, and jerky. What was laid out before him spoke to his heart. Suspending what Abby asked, and the conversation he had just had with Esther, Joseph sat down ready to eat.
Esther asked Michael to say the prayer. She did not feel comfortable asking either Abby or Joseph to give thanks, and as for her, she was terrified they would hear the shake in her voice. She had purposely touched a man, a handsome well-built man—an act she typically avoided at all costs. He had done something kind, out of place, but kind, and she had come close to offending him by refusing that kindness. As such she had compensated for her rudeness with a genuine friendly touch. The consequences were now that she couldn’t calm herself. Her skin felt cold, her stomach was twisted in knots, and flashbacks of that horrible night arose in her mind. She clenched the folds of her dress underneath the table while plastering on a smile. Michael bowed his head signaling that he was about to pray.
“Dear Lord,” he began, “we thank thee for sending Joseph and we thank thee for sending the boots that Joseph bought.”
Esther heard a smothered chuckle from Joseph. Despite her own anxieties, she found herself smiling, too. Michael was so endearing it was hard to think dark thoughts when he was around.
Dear Lord, Esther silently prayed, please calm my fear, and take away these memories even if just for tonight.
Michael ended with an “Amen.” Esther looked up and met Joseph’s gaze. She nodded politely and he beamed. She wondered if Joseph could do anything that was not intense. There was also a protectiveness about his look; it was the kind of look one has when deciding they have the sole responsibility over something of value. This thought should have alarmed Esther further, but to her surprise, she found herself calming down. Her breathing slowed and her pulse regulated. Esther glanced away from Joseph feeling puzzled. Why was he looking at her with such… affection? What was more unsettling was the tranquility that settled over her with his inscrutable gaze.
“Please help yourselves,” Esther said. “As you can see, I made enough for twenty people.”
“Mom always says that she was supposed to have a dozen children with how much she cooks,” Michael informed them reaching for bread. Esther looked sharply at her son mentally willing him to say nothing revealing or embarrassing about her.
“A dozen?” Abby exclaimed, “That is a lot of children. I can’t hardly think about having one child right now let alone a dozen.”
“Having children scares my sister,” Joseph explained while heaping up a mountain of potatoes on his plate before plopping down a juicy piece of meat.
“I am just scared of the pain, even possibly death. I know it is worth it. I mean, who wouldn’t want a son like Michael?” She reached over and patted Michael’s arm, who was now lathering his bread with applesauce. “Still, it scares me, although I don’t agree with some of my friends back home who are afraid that children will take away their freedom. I think it would be just a different kind of freedom.”
“What do you think, Miss Esther? Does a child take away your freedom and cause tension in a marriage?” Joseph asked, hoping she would reveal something about her former marriage, past, anything.
Esther smiled and suddenly focused on her plate. “I can only speak from experience. Michael opened up venues of love I did not even know I had.”
“But what about the pain?” Abby chirped, “I mean, each time you have a baby, there is the chance of death.”
Esther leaned back, her expression glimmering with remembrance. “When I gave birth to Michael I was shocked by the pain. The pain, Abby, is beyond description, but once you hold that child in your arms, the pain is forgotten.”
Joseph looked at Esther. Her face had a serene smile even though her eyes were swimming with memory.
A hard one to crack, he thought. “I have found that women are more concerned with catching a husband than they are about being good mothers. They think all their lives about wedding dresses and kisses under the moonlight and they forget that motherhood comes along with it. Then when they have a child they resent it for taking away,” he glanced at Abby kindly, “their freedom.” Joseph had seen this many times: a woman blaming her children for a waylaid life or lost lovers. The problem with Esther was that she did not seem to be looking for a husband, which baffled him
Esther looked him in the eye, surprised, as if she had not expected to agree with him. “I must say that in some cases that is true; however, I think most women, whether they want a child or not, are shocked at the overwhelming love that comes when a baby is placed in their arms.”
“Would a woman then be content with only that child’s love?” Joseph asked boldly, “or would she still need a man’s love—a husband’s love?”
Esther arched an eyebrow so high that Joseph thought it would fly off her face. “I would not know for certain; from merely observing others, I find that a husband limits a woman and reduces her freedom more than a child ever could.” Esther smiled tightly indicating that the conversation was over.
Joseph grew silent. Esther clearly was not looking for marriage. In fact, she seemed to be against it. Feeling discouraged he glanced at Michael who was smiling at him with such open admiration that Joseph felt better, like a hero tackling a hard mission and not like a slighted suitor.
“Oh Esther, how is Mrs. Gable doing?” Abby asked, changing the subject. The two women fell into easy conversation talking about the happenings of Tall Pine. Michael in the meantime scooted his chair closer to Joseph.
“How are you doing, little man?” Joseph grinned, helping himself to more food. Michael glanced nervously at his mom, making sure she was engaged in conversation. Esther’s eyes darted to Michael who smiled innocently. She must not have sensed any danger because she slowly looked away to continue talking with Abby.
“Mr. Joseph, I have a question,” he asked in a whisper.
Joseph tilted his head down closer to the boy. “What is it Michael?”
Michael glanced again at his mom and then whispered even softer. “Can you marry my mom—soon?”
Joseph did not know whether he wanted to laugh out loud or fall off his chair. He liked this boy—his sweetness, his spiritedness, and his bluntness were endearing. Curious, Joseph lowered his voice.
“Now, why do you want me to marry your momma, Michael?”
“Because if you don’t, another man may come along and marry her. I don’t want another man for my dad.”
“Why me?” Joseph asked, feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline with the thought of Esther marrying another man.
Over my dead body.
“Because you are everything my father should be,” Michael explained. Joseph gave him a puzzled look.
“What do you mean?”
Michael looked impatient that Joseph was not understanding the urgency of the matter. “You are who momma described,” Michael whispered loudly and then he grinned sheepishly. “Momma is always telling me what my dad will be like… and it is just like you. Also, Teacher says you have a ranch. Do you have horses, too?”
“Michael!” Esther suddenly said sternly. Both Joseph and Michael jumped while maintaining an earnest expression of innocence. Esther eyed both of them suspiciously, “What are you talking about?” Michael looked at Joseph pleadingly, begging for secrecy. Joseph gave him a knowing nod of assurance. “We were talking about the Harvest Festival. I overheard some of the parents discussing it today and was asking Michael about it.”
Michael giggled and nodded eagerly.
Esther looked unconvinced, but then decided to shrug it off. “I am glad you brought that up,” she said, turning to Abby. “You see, the Mayor’s daughter is expecting—only two months along—anyway, I stopped by the other day and her mother who was visiting asked me to place these flyers in the schoolhouse so that the parents would get them. It informs them about the auction.”
“Auction?” Joseph asked.
“Yes. Women put their name on a basket and then men bid for their baskets. The winner is promised a picnic with that woman.”
Abby squealed and clapped her hands. “Oh, we have had those in Texas with our church. The husbands always bid on their wives and boys always bid on the girl they like.”
Joseph instantly turned his attention to Esther. “Are you going to be putting your name on a basket, Miss Esther?”
She nodded. “I sure am, and then Michael will bid on it. We’ve already discussed it.” She smiled at Michael excitedly as if they shared a secret.
“We’ve been practicing my bidding skills,” Michael told Joseph. “Then Mom and me will go to our special place and have lunch.”
“A special place?” Joseph asked.
“It’s just a pretty spot by a stream,” she explained with a careless wave of her hand. “Anyway, we need to inform all the women of Tall Pine. Eliza is putting up flyers in her shop window and around town. I will let people know on my visits, and I was wondering if you could let all the parents know when they drop off their children.”
Abby nodded with another handclap. “Oh, yes I will! I am so excited. It has seemed like forever since there has been anything social in my life.” She took a bite of her food with flushed cheeks. There was now so much to think about. What to wear? Would Will come? Would there be dancing?
Esther smiled remembering the time when dances and social events held such excitement. She still enjoyed them. She liked talking to other women, observing families and couples, but there was not the same thrill of anticipation equated with youth and being single.
Will Joseph go? The thought entered her head without her permission. She looked at him briefly. He was telling Michael a funny story and had her son crying with laughter. He was especially tall and broad for a man, handsome in a rugged sort of way. He would be a fine catch for any woman—just not her.
The rest of dinner went by smoothly. Esther was pleased by how much everyone ate. Michael always ate a lot. Abby, who was still living off simple dinners and probably not near enough what she needed, ate like a miner, and Joseph refilled his plate several times.
“Miss Esther, that was by far the best food I have ever tasted. How did you get to be such a good cook?” he asked, taking one more bite before pushing away his empty plate.
Esther laughed. “Ahh, you should have seen me when I first started to cook for myself and Michael: burnt meat, rock hard biscuits, and bland soup. It was through practice and a love of food that I learned.” She walked over and took his plate, her trim waist next to him. Joseph fought the desire to wrap his arms around that waist and pull her close. Instead he stood up briskly, almost knocking into her.
“Well,” he announced, “the sun is fixin’ to set. Why don’t I take Michael out on Sampson while we still got some light.”
Esther put down the dishes with a small clatter. “All right, but I am coming with you.” She turned to Abby, “Do you need a shawl Abby?” she asked, inviting her to come along.
Abby shook her head. “No, I’m fine, but I will come watch.” She stood up, wiping a few crumbs from her skirt. The four of them went outside onto the porch.
Joseph turned to Esther. “I put Sampson in the barn with your Lancelot—hold on, and I will go get him.” He started to walk away. Esther watched his back for just a second before turning to Abby and Michael.
“You two wait here. I will go with him. I don’t want Lancelot getting spooked with it getting dark and having a stranger in the stables,” she explained needlessly.
Abby nodded, saying that she and Michael would play a little game while they waited. Esther walked quickly after Joseph, running a little to catch up with his long stride.
“Mr. Silver—Joseph,” she called out. Joseph stopped suddenly and then spun around with a wide grin on his face.
“You accompanying me, Miss Esther?” he asked with a slightly arrogant tilt of his chin.
Esther caught up with him. “I need to talk to you,” she said simply. Joseph’s grin grew even wider; he took a small step closer. “You want to go talk in the barn?” His left eye twitched as if fighting back the flirtatious instinct to wink. “It will be quiet in there.”
Unable to help herself Esther sighed with a shake of the head. “It’s not about us.”
“Us?” Joseph asked. “You thought about us?”
Esther lifted her eyebrows and folded her arms across her chest. “Mr. Silver, there is no us. I want to talk about Michael.”
Joseph’s grin fell and he turned towards the barn. “What about Michael?” he asked, continuing ahead.
Esther fell alongside him. “I need to know your intentions,” she said sternly. “It is obvious that Michael has developed some sort of crush on you, and you in turn are being very,” overbearing and inappropriate, “generous to Michael and me. I need to know as a mother why you are being so attentive to my son, and I need to know the truth.”
Joseph stopped walking. They were in front of the barn now. He turned towards, her looking down at her beautiful face and full lips. The sun had cast a golden glaze on everything, including her. She looked unworldly, seeming to belong in some portrait of mythology more than in front of a barn. How much he wanted to grab her and kiss her till her lips were bruised. He wanted to feel her arms around his neck, have the smell of sugar cookies wash over him and feel her hands tangled in his hair.
“Mr. Silver?” Esther asked again tilting her head, “I need to know your intentions, please,” she added with a polite smile that failed to mask a disapproving look.
Joseph chuckled. Her politeness didn’t subtract from her strength.
“Do you really not know my intentions, Miss Esther?” he asked quietly. He needed to gauge her reaction, measure it in order to know how to pursue her.
Esther looked away, the color fading from her face and her proud shoulders slightly dropping. “Mr. Silver,” she began.
“Joseph.”
Esther breathed out a shaky laugh. “Joseph,” she paused biting her lip, “Joseph, if your intentions are toward me then I regret to inform you that you are wasting your time. I do not mean to be harsh. The truth is that you seem like a fine man; handsome, hardworking, and fun.” She swallowed hard. “And it is because you are a decent man that I need to be honest with you: nothing will ever come about with you and me. So if you are being kind to my son out of hopes that it will spark some interest in me, then please stop. I don’t need Michael thinking his prayers for a father have been answered only to have you leave without sparing him a backwards glance because your efforts towards me have been in vain. So please, if you want to court me, then let me tell you with conviction that it cannot happen, and with that being the case, please leave Michael alone. No more presents, no more stories, no more telling him about how wonderful Texas is.” She inhaled, steadying herself. “I can’t see him hurt, you understand. I will protect him at all costs—even if it means robbing him of temporary joy so he does not have scars on his heart.”
Joseph looked at Esther for a long minute. His jaw was clenched with the left cheek muscle ticking. He didn’t like what she said. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should give up. What could he say to that? What should he say? The truth? Should he tell her that from the moment he saw her he knew with his heart and soul that he was meant to be with her? Should he tell her that he longed to have her, hold her, provide for her and her son? He wanted Michael as his own son. He would care for him as his own. But was she right? Was he wasting his time and hurting an innocent boy? Joseph looked away and took a long breath. He should just leave—tell her what his intentions were, apologize like a gentleman, and leave.
With a heavy heart Joseph opened his mouth to speak. Yet no apology came out. Before words were even spoken, an entire explanation of what he should say entered his head with such suddenness that Joseph’s heart sprouted a small testimony of divine intervention. He felt he knew what Esther needed to hear in order to keep her from shutting the door to her heart.
“Miss Esther,” he began, “I admire you for being such a good mother, and I in no way want to hurt Michael.” He looked back at the distant porch to where Michael and Abby were laughing. Then he nodded towards the barn, walking in with Esther following. “You see, Miss Esther, my father died when I was around ten years of age.” He smiled with a chuckle, “No doubt Abby has told you, considering that girl can barely keep a secret to save her life.”
Esther gave an amused side nod, clearly calmed by his calm reaction to her blunt rebuff.
“Anyway, I was fatherless for a while. My mother, although not as attentive as you are with Michael, worked hard and was good to me, but I still felt the absence of a father. I see a boy like Michael who, despite the lack of a father, is good and happy. It is a credit to you, Miss Esther.” Did she blush? “Michael reminds me much of myself. If I can, but for a brief moment, provide the feelings that come to a young boy when a respected man gives him a gift, teaches him how to ride, or how to build a campfire—well, I guess I would feel like I was doing some good in this world. Some tender good that didn’t just consist of catching fugitives or shooting criminals.”
Esther remained silent, looking at him with a compassion and softness that she had not shown earlier. It encouraged Joseph to go on, “So, Miss Esther, I ask that you let me befriend him. I will make it evident that I am not staying, that there will be an end to me being here. And as for you,” he stopped saddling the horse and looked squarely at her, “a man would be a fool to not find you beautiful and,” alluring, desirable, bewitching and stunning, “capable, but I only ask for your friendship. As a Texan I am loud, blunt, and obtrusive,” he teased.
Esther laughed. “I did not say you were any of those,” she told him with an amused shake of the head.
“No, you didn’t, but those catlike eyes of yours did,” he laughed, walking to remove Sampson from the stall. “So yes, I may seem flirtatious and overbearing, but I only ask and expect your friendship.” As well as a life together, your body and heart, and everything about you, “and nothing more.” He smiled with a finishing nod.
Esther squinted and tilted her head, examining him as she contemplated his words. Joseph held still, feeling very much like a man who had pleaded his case and was now awaiting the verdict. Finally Esther laughed and her face transformed. She had smiled before, even laughed, but everything about her seemed to be so guarded and tightly wound. This laughter was true, youthful, natural, and relaxed. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks grew even rosier.
“Only friendship?” she asked.
Joseph shrugged. “Miss Esther, there have been ninety-nine-year-old grandmothers who awaited my proposal with how I talked. Please do not take offense when I come across too strong.”
Esther looked down with her lips pressed together in a smile that was holding back laughter. “Well then, Joseph,” she looked up with a girlish nod towards the house, “let’s go teach my boy how to ride.”
Joseph nodded, giving a silent thanks to whoever deserved it. No doubt Esther’s walls would build back up, but for a brief moment he saw beyond them. She had room for love, his love. Perhaps with her not taking his eagerness so seriously she would be receptive to it. At least his foot was in the door—so he hoped.
Esther felt like she had swallowed rocks by the time Michael’s first riding lesson was done. She kept leaping forward, afraid he would fall, biting her nails when Joseph would walk away or let him hold the reigns by himself. Her nerves were jumping around watching her young son on such a large horse. Sampson as it turned out was a fine animal, calm and obedient. Joseph was a good teacher. Esther had never seen Michael laugh so much. She was glad that Michael had this experience and she hated to admit to herself that she could not have done half the fine job Joseph did. Joseph—now he was a dark horse. She was sure that he had been interested in her; maybe he was and was simply lying in saying that his kindness had only to do with Michael. He didn’t seem like the flirtatious type, and the few days she had seen him at the school he had given no attention to any of the other women. Of course, they all had husbands, but still. She needed to be careful. The last thing she wanted to do was string along a man. The thought of being close to any man, even close enough to where they thought there was a chance with her, made Esther very uncomfortable.
Michael was giggling now as Joseph pulled him off the horse and swung him over his shoulder, tickling his ribs. Esther fought back the urge to demand that he put her son down since only she was allowed to tickle him. Instead, she smiled. Although she was not fully comfortable with Joseph, his story and its relation to her son had softened her. Maybe it made her realize that he had hardships, trials, and hurts of his own that needed healing. Esther recognized that she had the weakness to erroneously picture men as impenetrable brutes who caused pain and never felt it. Yet Joseph now seemed more human, a human who was thinking of Michael’s best interest. Perhaps just this once she could control her deep etched scorn of men and have one as a friend. No, even friends felt a might too intimate.
“It’s cake time! It’s cake time!” Michael announced, his cheeks rosy with excitement and his eyes bright with exercise.
“You made cake, too?” Abby exclaimed with delight.
Esther shook her head and nodded at Michael. “No, it was Michael who made it. He wanted carrot cake and milk for tonight.”
“Carrot cake?” Joseph set Michael down, “Why that is my absolutely favorite cake in the world, and you made it?” he asked Michael.
The boy nodded with delight. “Yes I did—do you want a big piece or a little piece?”
“Boy, we Texas Rangers don’t eat little pieces. I need a big slice,” Joseph announced, glancing at Esther and hoping to find her looking pleased with him, but she seemed to be unaware of him as she ushered in Michael and Abby, not even looking back to see if he was coming. Well I had a start, Joseph thought encouragingly. Esther had just an hour ago agreed to friendship; he couldn’t expect her to suddenly change into an adoring woman, could he?
Dessert went smoothly with no awkward conversations or quick glances. The cake turned out better than any Esther had ever made. She wondered if Michael’s prayers that the cake would be extra delicious really had been answered. She smiled to herself. It had been her experience that God, as a loving father, was as interested in the silly things such as cake tasting good as he was in the soulful and heartfelt things.
Joseph told funny experiences such as chasing down a man who tried to hide by dressing up like a woman only to have some drunkard mistake him for a dead sister-in-law, whom he had hated, and run after him with an iron rod thinking her spirit had come to haunt him. The criminal practically ran to Joseph, begging for Joseph to save him from the drunkard. Esther actually found her sides hurting from laughing. She couldn’t remember when she had laughed this hard. Even with her uncle with whom she was close, their conversations were more intellectual. This easy, simple, fun conversation was new to her and it felt good, like honey to a sore throat.
After Joseph had finished his second helping of cake, Esther stood up announcing that Michael needed to go to bed.
“Please, can I stay up?” Michael begged dramatically.
Esther ruffled his hair. “Sweetheart, I am sorry, but you turn into a little beastie when you don’t get your sleep. Now, go get your pajamas on.”
Michael made a scrunched up face and planted his feet. Esther responded by raising an eyebrow and mouthing the count of: “One, two…” at three Michael threw his hands up in the air.
“Fine, I’ll go,” he whined and then quickly stifled a yawn, “even though I’m not tired.”
Abby smiled and stood up as well. “We best be going, too,” she politely said. She glanced at Joseph, jerking her head for him to stand up. “Joseph, shall we go? I still have to get up early for school tomorrow. With Halloween coming up we will be doing some fun crafts, but I need time to prepare them.”
“Halloween crafts?” Esther asked, clearly delighted. “Abby that is wonderful that you are having the children be creative. Many of these children do not get that chance even though it is very important.”
Abby beamed, her fair skin blushing. “Why, thank you, Esther. Halloween kind of snuck up on me. It’s hard to believe we’re nearing the end of October.” She walked towards the door, shivering as a cool breeze blew in when Joseph opened it. “When does it start snowing? I know there is no specific date as to when the fall session ends—or when the snow starts to fall,” she asked. The snow was certainly not something she was looking forward to. Pretty soon she would need to decide whether to use almost all her newly-saved money and travel back home for the winter or stay through until spring.
“Usually in December,” Esther said. “Here in the valley we rarely get it in November. The school is usually closed mid-December through January then opens in February. We still have snow, but it’s not so intense,” she explained.
“Do you like the snow?” Joseph asked. There was little snow where he planned to take her. Scorching summers and springs, but beautiful autumns and winters. If she loved the snow, she would have to learn to live without it.
“The snow is beautiful,” Esther remarked with a pensive gleam in her eye. “Beautiful and wild. That I do like about it. But after a few weeks with an energetic boy who has not been outside for days, I get pretty sick of it to be honest,” she laughed with a shake of her head. Esther actually did not like the snow. Snow meant cold, which meant sickness that led to sick mothers and children, coughs and fevers. No, she did not like the snow.
Joseph smiled with a nod of approval. Obviously, he would have liked her to say she abhorred the snow and longed to live in a warm sunlit place, like Texas, but what she said was good enough.
The ride back to the little house went by quickly. Abby found herself drifting off to sleep with her brother being unusually silent. Willing herself to stay awake until she reached her bed, Abby sat up and stretched before taking a good look at Joseph. His jaw was set firmly and his eyes narrowed as he looked ahead. He seemed to be in another world, lost in thought.
“You never asked me about what was being said today,” Abby told him breaking his spell. “The mothers at the school… about Esther.” A good part of Abby did not want to tell her brother. She loved him very much and was growing to love Esther, and she would be more than thrilled to see them marry. But she’d never seen her brother fall for a woman and she couldn’t imagine what he’d do if his heart were broken.
Joseph’s face relaxed just a tad. “I thought it was about scaring the abusive school teacher away,” he said, smiling at the thought of Esther angry and ready for battle.
Abby shook her head. “No, that was some time ago. Today when they were speaking about the Harvest Festival and how fun it was to see blooming romances among the youth, they mentioned how Esther,” she bit her cheek thinking of a delicate way to put it, “that she is just not interested in men. She treats them the same as she does women. In fact, they say she treats them below women— kind and respectful but distant. Truth is Joseph, I don’t think Esther has any intention of marrying a man or even being courted by one,” Abby blurted. She held still for a moment. Joseph said nothing for a while, only giving a simple nod to indicate he was listening to her. Abby wanted him to speak, to hear his thoughts, but Joseph was doing what she called “a man thing,” being silent and moody. Wishing she could hear his thoughts Abby turned away, deciding that it was best not to speak further.
Joseph was thinking about what Abby said, but more so about what Esther had said, how she looked, how she had reacted to his explanation of kindness. Funnily enough, he felt no discouragement; rather, he felt encouraged. So Esther had not wanted to marry, did not want to marry? All that meant was that the right man had not come along.
Well, the right man is here now.