Joy dismounted and held Murphy's reins as she neared the barn. The gelding nuzzled her shoulder and she reached to pat his neck, crooning love words. He was a wonderful horse. Although a bit temperamental, he followed her instructions. Having been around horses all her life, she knew he would mellow with the years. Right now, he was still an adolescent. She already knew she was going to hate leaving him when the time came to return home. In fact, she was going to hate leaving the beauty of Oregon and her hosts who had become her dear friends.
While riding, she had noticed a motorcar parked at the front of the house and her eyes widened when she came close enough to recognize the doctor who had questioned her ability to hear. His attitude had put her out of sorts the day before, but on the drive home she'd asked Jake and Pauline about him and been told his sad story. The doctor's wife had died only a year earlier when she'd been thrown from a horse and the little girl, Misty, hadn't spoken since then. Any animosity Joy had been feeling toward Dr. Flemming had evaporated, and now, seeing his pale blond hair against his sun bronzed complexion, started her pulse racing.
She was surprised when Jake rushed toward her and grabbed Murphy's reins. He said, "I'll take care of Murphy. Dr. Flemming is here to see you."
She smoothed a hand over her wind tousled hair trying to tame some of the curls, and replied, "Okay. Thank you, Jake."
As Jake walked Murphy toward the barn, Joy walked toward the automobile Dr. Flemming was leaning against. Inhaling a calming breath, and smoothing her hands down her split riding skirt, she gave him a shy smile as she approached.
He straightened up from the fender on the passenger side and nodded in response. He was hatless and his hair looked as tousled as hers felt. When she came close enough, he said, "Miss Ryder, I was wondering if I could speak with you for a few minutes."
"Of course, Dr. Flemming."
The doctor motioned toward the pasture Joy had just ridden in. "Would you walk with me?"
She nodded and accepted the arm he held out to her. The moment her hand touched his elbow her breathing quickened and she felt lightheaded. Ridiculous.
They had walked several paces before the doctor stopped and turned toward her. He said, "I want to apologize for my behavior at Beecher's General Store. I was just so," he hesitated, "shocked by what you said. I haven't heard Misty speak a word since her mother's death."
Joy remained silent.
The doctor continued, "Would you mind telling me what happened from the beginning? I need to make sense of this so I can help my daughter." He sighed. "She's been in a dark place since her mother passed on and I've been trying to find a way to reach her. I want her to understand that although terrible things sometimes happen, life must go on. I want her to be happy again."
Joy's heart broke for this man and his daughter and she had the feeling he was speaking the words as much for himself as for his child. She said, "I am so sorry for your loss and I'm more than willing to relate the entire incident." Dr. Flemming's gaze penetrated all the way to her heart.
"Thank you," he said softly.
While Joy related the incident they walked toward the line of pines enclosing the field. Long before they reached the trees, she had told him everything.
Dr. Flemming leaned against the trunk of a tall ponderosa and met her brown gaze with his sapphire one. He said, "Please call me Walker. May I call you Joy?"
Joy felt herself blush. "Yes. Call me Joy and I'll call you Walker, even though I feel like I should call you Dr. Flemming."
He smiled slightly. "I much prefer Walker." Then he closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. "I also want to apologize for my Aunt's rudeness. Actually, she's my wife's aunt and very set in her ways, but I don't know what I would have done without her after Emily's death. While I worked through my grief she moved into my home to care for Misty and run my household. Although her own home is in Portland, she's stayed with us all this time. My sister and her son, whom I understand you also met on the train, live here in Oregon City. I went to see Octavia and she tells me that Aunt Zena was terribly rude to you. I am so sorry."
Joy lifted her hand to stop any further apologies. "At the time, I must admit I was quite taken aback by your aunt, but upon further reflection, I realized she was actually acting out of concern for my safety. Back in my own community in Texas there are many residents very much like your aunt living in the old ways. Times have changed drastically over the past twenty years and some people are having difficulty adapting to the changes." She chuckled. "The only elderly person I know who would encourage a young, single woman to strike out on her own is my grandmother, Abby Samson. She, herself, traveled from a comfortable home in Philadelphia to become the mail order bride of my grandfather, who was living in a cabin and raising three children while trying to run a cattle ranch in Texas."
Walker laughed. "She sounds like a very courageous woman."
"Yes, very. She's one of a kind and my family loves her dearly." A note of sadness entered her voice when she said, "My grandfather died about a year and a half ago and I understand the pain of loss."
A breeze kicked up and they both became silent, listening to the rustle of leaves in the scattering of maples among the pines.
Walker broke the silence when he asked, "So, since you were buying art supplies, I'm assuming you're an artist?"
"Yes. Mostly I paint with oils or watercolors, but occasionally I use charcoal. In fact, that's why I'm in Oregon City. For the past year I've been traveling the country and creating a series I call Lest We Forget."
Walker squatted and picked up a crackly maple leaf. He glanced up at Joy. "Other than my aunt, have you encountered many, ah, shall we say, difficult people?"
Joy grinned. "Not many who are difficult; mostly just curious."
The half smile Walker gave Joy as he stood again started her heart thumping. He was so handsome that she felt plain by comparison, and then she chided herself for feeling that way. She had never been one to preen in front of a mirror or become overly concerned about her appearance. She was a plain woman with a pale complexion, medium brown hair, brown eyes, a thin face, an average mouth below a straight average nose with no cute tilt, eyebrows that tended to be so bushy she plucked them, and a body that was too thin to be considered curvaceous,. Although makeup was all the rage, she used only a hint of cheek and lip rouge of the palest pink.
Joy was so caught up in her examination of her personal appearance that she missed Walker's question. She said, "I'm sorry. Could you repeat that? My mind just went on a flight of fancy."
Walker smiled. "I haven't heard that phrase in a long time."
Joy returned his smile. "My mother sometimes says it. She's also an artist, as is my father, and they tend to have their head in the clouds like me."
"So what was your flight of fancy?"
Joy flushed crimson. There was no way she would admit to sizing herself up in comparison to him. She hedged, "Um, well, I was thinking that you would make a good candidate for portrait painting. With your dark coloring, blond hair and blue eyes, the contrast would be exceptional."
He laughed. "I don't think I could sit still long enough. Actually, what I asked while you were having your flight of fancy is whether you would consider teaching my daughter to paint. She loves drawing and painting and because she spoke to you once, perhaps she'll do so again. I would be most grateful for your help."
Joy's eyes widened. "But what about your aunt?"
"Don't worry about her. She'll come around to my way of thinking." He apparently wasn't worried when he continued, "I could meet you at church on Sundays and bring you to my home. After Misty's lesson I would drive you back here. My medical practice is closed on Sundays and Mondays. So, if Sunday doesn't work, perhaps Monday would."
The look in Walker's eyes almost brought tears to Joy's. His love for his daughter was palpable. How could she refuse? She said, "Jake and Pauline mentioned something about attending church this Sunday. They said they want to introduce me to members of the community. Sunday would probably work out well, Walker." She again felt that awful blush creeping up her neck. Speaking his name aloud seemed so…intimate.
He responded, "Much to the chagrin of my aunt and sister, I haven't attended church since my wife died, but perhaps it's time to return."