Two days later, Lizzie had found some answers but was struggling with a new set of questions. There was no question about Adam and the caliber of man he was; everything about him was upright and true. Just as she had looked for the responses she wanted from God, regardless of what He wanted from Lizzie, she had been looking for the wrong things as proof of love.
And she could no longer delude herself into believing that a life of service to God meant that He wanted her to live it alone. One honest look at her parents’ godly example was enough to convince her of that. Lizzie shook her head slowly. How blind could a person be?
Now that she saw things clearly, she was plagued by the fear that in her fumbling attempts to do the right thing and protect them both, she had pushed Adam away so far that she had ruined her chance for happiness.
Even the memory of Adam’s prayer didn’t soothe her. She had heard him put the situation in God’s hands. Did that mean he wouldn’t come around again until God somehow took an active role to work things out between them? Now that she understood her feelings for Adam, Lizzie didn’t think she had the patience or the courage to wait and wonder indefinitely.
But what could she do? She might be in love, but she was still so unsure of herself that she couldn’t take the initiative and make the first move. It looked like an unsolvable dilemma.
Lizzie glanced outside for the hundredth time that morning. The clouds were still there, gray and threatening, promising to let loose at any moment. Apparently the rains had decided to come early today, and there would be no chance for a ride until they had gone. And just when she needed to be outdoors, to be alone and think!
Feeling that if she didn’t expend some energy she’d explode, Lizzie went out to the porch and paced from one end to the other until she was surprised she hadn’t worn a groove in the wooden planks. A few light drops fell to the ground, the forerunners of more to follow. Lizzie wanted to scream in frustration. If ever she needed to work off some steam, it was now, and she seemed to be blocked at every turn.
Maybe there was something she could do in the barn. If nothing else, the presence of the horses and the soothing smells of straw, hay, and leather would provide a balm for her troubled spirit. She dashed off through the rain drops, which were already increasing in force and number by the time she reached the barn.
Adam muttered to himself as he watched the sky and wondered if he should turn back. He’d picked a fine time to decide to apologize to Charles for taking off without warning. But then, he couldn’t say any of his actions lately had been especially wise.
Look at the way he’d raced up to Lizzie and babbled about his feelings without any preparation, catching her completely off guard. No wonder she sent him packing! He must have looked like a wild-eyed maniac, descending upon her like that.
But running off like that. . . He’d told himself at first he was doing it for Lizzie, taking his unwanted presence away from her. In all honesty, though, he had to confess it was the blow to his ego that had done it. Initially, at least. Staying away had been nothing short of cowardice. He was afraid to meet Lizzie again, and that’s all there was to it. Strong, self-reliant Adam McKenzie was afraid to face willowy Lizzie Bradley. He had faced her rejection once; he didn’t think he could take it if she rebuffed him again.
It was time he faced up to that fear. If he was going to consider himself any kind of man, he had to go back. He still had responsibilities there, after all, even if he hadn’t been acting like it lately. And, he admitted to himself with a rueful laugh, it would be good to sleep in a real bed again, even if it was just a bunkhouse cot.
The proud owner of his own refurbished home, Adam had been sleeping on a pile of hay in his barn ever since running home with his tail tucked between his legs. After all the work he’d done on the house with Lizzie in mind, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to take up residence there without her. What am I going to do if she never comes around to my way of thinking? I can just see myself, twenty years down the road, with a fine house on the best horse ranch in New Mexico, spreading my bedroll out on the hay every night!
Tiny drops of rain beaded on his saddle, and a larger one splattered across the bridge of his nose. I should have known better than to come out when it looked like this. He checked his location; he was about halfway between the two ranches, but slightly nearer the Double B. That decided his course, and he urged his horse into a lope as the rain pelted down in earnest.
Lizzie glared sullenly at the sheets of rain pouring down from the heavens. Coming to the barn had seemed a good idea at first. She had spent time fussing over Dancer, and had polished her tack until the leather gleamed. Seeing that the rain hadn’t diminished, she straightened the rest of the tack, rearranged the tools, and organized the feed bags into neat rows. The activity had helped use up nervous energy, but the rain was still coming down in torrents and showed no sign of abating.
She supposed she might throw a saddle blanket over her head and dash for the house, but she knew she’d be soaked to the skin by the time she got there. It looked like she was stuck where she was until the downpour slackened; she might as well find something else to do. She glanced around the barn and sighed. She’d been altogether too efficient. There wasn’t a thing that needed fixing, unless she scattered tools, tack, and feed around and started in all over again.
Wait. Her gaze traveled upward to the loft. She hadn’t been up there in some time, but being out of the line of sight, things were usually left in disorder up there much longer than down below where they were noticed. Lizzie nodded, relieved. She would climb up and get started right away.
Halfway up the ladder, Lizzie remembered why she hadn’t climbed up there for so long. Her long skirt wanted to catch under her toe every time she raised her foot to climb another rung. She grasped the irritating garment with one hand, wrenching it loose and nearly throwing herself off balance in the process. The ladder teetered slightly and Lizzie closed her eyes, waiting for it to stop before she went on. The agile cowboys had no problem here, but then, they didn’t have yards of fabric wrapped around their ankles, either. It wasn’t fair, she thought angrily.
The ladder ceased its swaying and Lizzie climbed another step.
Adam could barely see ten yards in front of him. The last time the rain had come lashing down this hard was. . .well, he didn’t remember a time he’d ever seen it rain like this. And here he was, caught out in the open.
His horse slowed and Adam could make out dark shapes looming behind the sheets of water. He breathed a sigh of relief. They’d made it to the barn! He could hardly wait to get inside. Even if it took a while for the rain to let up and he was stuck in the barn, he’d be under shelter, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
“Oh, isn’t this just grand!” Lizzie groused. Now nearly at the top of the ladder, she had maneuvered her skirt out of the way long enough to put her left foot on the next rung, but as soon as she lifted the right foot, she knew she was in trouble. Somehow the fabric was wrapped tight about her right leg, holding her foot halfway between one rung and the next.
Holding tight with both hands, she looked down and sighed with exasperation when she saw the problem. The hem of her skirt had caught on a nail and was now stretched so tightly by her right leg that it wouldn’t pull loose. Furthermore, it had somehow managed to wrap around her leg and held it immobile. Now what? She couldn’t stay up there indefinitely. Already her legs were beginning to ache. She reached down tentatively with her right hand, but the ladder started swaying so violently that she stopped, afraid to move again.
Lizzie surveyed the barn floor, trying to pick the best place to land if she fell, which now seemed all too likely. Unable to free herself from the constraining cloth to move either up or down, she would hang there like a fly caught in a spider’s web until she could hold on no longer. Then she would drop like a stone.
If only someone would come! Even as the thought raced through her mind, Lizzie realized how unlikely that was. Who in his right mind would be out in this deluge? Twelve feet didn’t seem all that high when one was standing on solid ground looking up. Looking down from that height, though, gave it a totally different perspective. How high had Willie been when he fell out of that cottonwood tree and broke his arm? Only ten feet or so, wasn’t it? And he’d had a thick bush below to break his fall.
Her left hand, the one with the better hold, slipped a fraction.
Over the ceaseless beat of the driving rain, Lizzie heard a steady splash, splash, splash and recognized the sound of a horse’s hooves plodding through mud. Bert, she knew, had been out before the storm had hit. For some reason he had apparently come back home instead of holing up somewhere for the duration. It was foolish on his part, but Lizzie blessed him for it. If only he got to her before she lost her hold completely. She needed to get his attention; he’d never think to look up here when he walked in.
Twisting as far as she dared, she focused her eyes on the open door and called out as loudly as she could. “Bert! Hurry! I’m caught on the ladder and I’m about to fall!” She caught sight of a shirtsleeve as she turned back around.
The maneuver proved too unsettling for the ladder, which shifted abruptly to the right, loosening Lizzie’s hold still more. Splinters dug into her hand as she made a desperate effort to regain her grip, but she was too far off balance now.
With a piercing scream, she plunged off the ladder, hearing the sound of ripping fabric as the hem of her skirt tore loose from the nail. She saw the knotholes in the wall flash by as she dropped downward—straight into a pair of muscular arms. Lizzie squeezed her eyes tight at the moment of impact, aware only that by some miracle she was alive and unharmed. Then she opened them to look up at her rescuer, and stared right into the face of Adam McKenzie.