Loving Against the Grain (Into the West #2)

Chapter 24

 

Life was good.

Noah came to this conclusion on his way out to the job site about a month after Callie and Sonny returned home to Texas. Striding up the steep hillside, whistling intermittently in counterpoint to the warbling birdsongs while the fluttering breeze sang backup through the pines above his head, Noah didn’t think his existence could get any better. He had the love of a sweet, tart, loving, provocative woman, a beautiful baby girl who knew his face well enough she smiled whenever he picked her up (which he did too frequently according to his wife), and the love of an extended family that had every confidence in him to be a success. No, life couldn’t get any better.

Noah’s wide strides carried him swiftly toward the hills where the deforestation now occurred, the last open spaces around St. Helens The Company intended to log upon. Come next spring the entire operation would be pulling up stakes and moving northward, following the tree line. And that thought brought a considering look to Noah’s face as he contemplated how that news affected him and his small family. He paused in his uphill climb, pulling his kerchief from his back pocket and mopping at his forehead.

Early summer in the Pacific Northwest waxed as quixotic as a virgin debutante with her favors. While mornings remained foggy and cool, with mist curling around the ground and between the trees, afternoons basked in cloying humidity; great for the tall trees and their thirsty trunks and foliage, but nigh miserable for the men working at their feet. The fallers had it slightly better; at least they felt an occasional breeze wafting between the verdant giants up high on their precarious perches where they worked. But down here, as he climbed swiftly to claim his overworked equine team, Noah felt the steamy humidity resting heavy upon him, and took a moment to fan his face with his hat. And think back on how perfect his life had become this past year, no more so than yesterday.

Yesterday; Sunday. The day of rest. His day of rest. The day to confess the sins you’d committed the past week, as well as thank the Father for everything He’d blessed you with. By all rights Noah should still be standing in the St. Helens church, reciting all his appreciation for his blessings! He, Emmie and Rebecca had returned to church when Callie and Sonny had visited, and they hadn’t missed a Sunday since. Nothing like a little guilty prodding from the woman who’d taken care of you during your youth to get you re-motivated into doing the right thing! It seemed Sonny, who’d once thought himself beyond saving, had recanted that belief and sat right alongside his wife in the pews he’d once avoided. Funny, what the love of a good woman could do to a man…

As Noah once more looked up into the treetops, vaguely distinguishing the yells of the men and indignant neighs from the team he’d come to rescue from working into the evening shadows, the wrangler took a moment to think back to yesterday’s pastimes after church. Namely, the picnic he’d managed to get Emmie to agree to.

It hadn’t been too difficult to get Emmie to pack their midday meal yesterday and follow him up to Horsetail Falls, while he carried little Rebecca on his shoulder. The feminine mite loved riding up there, smiling toothlessly at her mother behind them the whole while, drool sopping Noah’s shirt. Since she’d started sleeping longer between feedings, all of them had begun to feel more relaxed; and two of them consequently more amorous. It was Noah’s intention to court his wife right out of her clothes by the Falls, after they fed and put little Becky down for her afternoon nap. He had an idea it wouldn’t take much coaxing on his part, either. Nowadays Emmie seemed just as eager as he to get naked as often as they could, especially since he took such care not to impregnate her so soon after Rebecca

They talked about the latest goings-on at church during their meal of cold beef sandwiches made with Emmie’s delicious oatmeal bread, accompanied by crisp pickles and berries and oatmeal cookies washed down with lemonade. After they’d finished their own repast, Noah leaned back on one elbow, legs stretched out before him, watching his wife nurse Rebecca. He never got tired of seeing his daughter at his wife’s breast. Never. With the shadows from the trees dappling her face and the breeze lifting her hair, Emmie resembled a work of art Noah could always stop and stare at with pride that she belonged to him. While admiring the woman he claimed as his, Noah delicately broached the subject he’d wanted to address while up here at the falls.