Walker studied the small, slender woman beside him and decided there was a depth of character that his visit had only begun to unveil. Perhaps her demure looks and soft voice camouflaged a woman of purpose and ambition. His wife, although fiery and strong-willed, had never indicated a drive for anything other than being his wife and mother to Misty. And he'd been happy with that. Now, seeing the light in Joy's eyes when she spoke of her passion, he wondered if his wife had ever wanted more. She had loved writing poetry. Had she suppressed that part of herself to become his wife, or worse yet, had he stifled her creativity?
As they walked back toward the house, Jake stepped from the barn with Murphy and led him to the corral. Walker stiffened, but if Joy noticed, she didn't say anything. Instead, she said, "I just love that gelding. My grandfather and my uncles have always raised horses. And my parents keep a few at our home, although my father now prefers automobiles as his mode of transportation." They walked on in silence.
When they reached the gate to exit the pasture, Walker said, "You should be careful around any horse, especially one as high strung as Murphy."
"Oh, he's a love. He only needs some maturity to reach his full potential. In fact, he's one of the best horses I've ever been around."
Walker inhaled sharply.
Pauline stepped onto the porch, waved, and called, "Hello, Dr, Flemming. It's good to see you. Please come in. I just pulled a tray of oatmeal cookies from the oven."
Walker was glad to have something to take his mind off Murphy, and replied, "I've tasted your oatmeal cookies and they're the best this side of the Mississippi, and perhaps the other side, too."
Pauline grinned and waved her husband over. He called, "I'm on my way."
Even with his busy medical practice, time seemed to drag by for Walker. Throughout the week he treated migraine headaches, menstrual cramps, cold symptoms, stomach aches, a fractured arm, twisted ankle, appendicitis, and even assisted Birdie in the delivery of twins.
Often he thought of Joy and her quiet demeanor. And when visions of her riding Murphy popped into his head, he didn't readily dismiss them. She was a horsewoman of great skill.
On Wednesday evening after Misty was in bed, he asked his aunt to join him in his study for a nightcap. He knew by her expression that she was surprised by his request. He poured a little brandy for himself and asked her what she wanted. She tilted her head, eyed his snifter, and smiled. "I'll have the same."
He returned her smile, poured the amber liquid into another snifter, handed it to her, and lifted his glass. "Here's to a better future."
His aunt eyed him curiously, but remained silent. She tilted her glass and sipped.
Walker sat beside her on the divan, placed his glass on the coffee table, and reached to hold his aunt's free hand. He said with sincerity, "I want to thank you for all you've done for me and Misty. Without you, we would have been lost."
His aunt squeezed his hand. "My dear boy, I think of you as my own nephew, and wouldn't have had it any other way. However, are you politely asking me to leave your home?"
Walker reared back. "No! Of course not!"
"Then what's on your mind? I've felt something troubling you for days now."
Walker sighed and leaned back against the cushions. "There is something I've avoided telling you, I will admit."
His aunt sipped her brandy again and waited.
He continued, "Remember the woman you met on the train and again at the general store? The one who was traveling without a companion." He met his aunt's narrowed gaze.
"Yes, of course. Such an impertinent young woman."
Walker sighed again. "I went to see her at the Jerome homestead and I've asked her to give Misty art lessons."
Aunt Zena gasped, "Why ever would you do that? Surely you don't believe she actually heard Misty speak?"
"Actually, Auntie, I do." He hastened to add, "But even if she only thought she did, this is an opportunity I can't let slip. If there's even the remotest chance that Misty has taken a liking to her enough to talk, I've got to know. And the only way to do that is to bring the two of them together." He sipped his drink and waited for his aunt's reply.
With her back now ramrod straight, she stretched forward to set her glass on the table. "Misty is your daughter and I won't interfere with your decision, but I will voice my objection. I think the woman is young, irresponsible, and probably looking for a husband to support her, and when she saw you, she saw opportunity deposited on her doorstep. Beware, my boy." She stood and walked from the room.
Walker watched his aunt's retreating back and downed another nip of brandy. He'd known she would protest his decision, but he hadn't realized she would be so dead set against it.