Page 62 of Mail-Order Bride Substitute
It was the flower she’d seen huddled against the rock. Evening Primrose. She read the description. Learned it was used medicinally by native tribes. The crushed root or a poultice could be applied to sores. She looked up, met Riley’s eyes.
“You found something interesting?”
She nodded. “It’s about that flower I told you about.”
“The one hiding in the shadow of a rock?”
“You remembered.”
He chuckled. “Hard to forget being called a rock.”
She shrugged, standing by her insistence that it meant he was strong. “That reminds me of a hymn I heard recently about the Lord being a rock in a weary land, a shelter in the time of storm.” The word sang through her head. “Maybe I’ll play it for you tonight.”
“I’d like that.” He drew in a long breath and released it slowly.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you. Do you want me to leave?”
“Not at all.” He studied her so unblinkingly it made her eyes water.
“What’s wrong?”
He looked away then returned his gaze to her. “I was thinking of the song you mentioned. It sounded like you need relief from a storm. Do you?” His question was low, almost hoarse.
“I did. Back in Kellom, I wondered at times if I could survive the way I was treated. The song gave me strength and courage. Though I suppose I should say it was God who strengthened me. The song merely reminded me of His love and care.”
“Glad to hear it.” Then as if realizing how she might interpret his words, he lifted a hand. “Not glad to hear you were treated so poorly but happy you found comfort.” His voice softened so she had to lean forward to catch his final words. “Glad you don’t feel that way here.”
She sat back, surprised at his confession. Did it mean he wanted her to stay? Hoping and praying it was so, she waited, but he kept his gaze on the page before him and she turned her attention back to the book she held. Although she enjoyed the illustrations and descriptions, she was so conscious of Riley that she lost her place frequently.
He sighed. He shuffled papers. He held up two to study them. He put them down again. He picked up his pen, dipped it in ink then held it without making an entry. A drop of ink splatted to his paper, and he blotted it.
“Riley, what’s the problem?”
“I can’t make sense of these papers. Nothing tallies.”
“Can I help?”
His eyes brightened a moment before his shoulders sank. “It’s complicated.”
“Let me try. I used to help my uncle from time to time.” She was good at mathematics though she was told it wasn’t of any use to a woman. “Numbers aren’t a lot different from musical notes. They all form a pattern.” She went to his side and leaned over his shoulder. For a moment, she studied the ledger. It was a simple method of entering not only income and expenses but information regarding cows and horses. He’d entered the amount Mr. Dahl had paid for the horses and his comments as to their dam and sire.
She saw where the balance was incorrect and suggested he enter the right number which he did.
“Well, now that means the money in the strong box is correct. What a relief. I’ve been trying to figure out where the money had gone.”
She picked up a receipt and studied it. It was an amount without any description. “Your problem is you’re having to guess what this is for.”
“It’s from the blacksmith. He repaired a plow share.”
“Then enter it as such.”
He did so. She mentally subtracted the amount from the balance and told him what it was.
He didn’t write it down. “You did that in your head?”
“It was easy.”
He wrote the amount. “Not for me. Would you mind helping me?” He pushed his chair to one side and pulled the other close.
