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“Are you worried I’ll drive the doctor off?” She scowled at Kent, challenging him to leave when there was a case right in front of him.
“I won’t leave.” His eyes met hers again and her heart broke into a million pieces. He believed she didn’t forgive his family, giving him the reason he’d needed to walk away. In his heart, he already had.
She turned and stalked off, hating that she’d provided the very thing she’d wanted to prevent. If he was right and she held unforgiveness in her heart for Louis Douglas, how could she ever hope to convince his son that she’d forgiven him?
She couldn’t.
He would never believe she forgave him for leaving her when that directly affected her, if she hadn’t forgiven his father when nothing Louis had done had ever really happened to her. Not to mention, if he had held anything against her father, he wouldn’t be helping now.
She headed off into the pasture to be alone. When she found a flat granite slab sitting just above the grass where lambs liked to play, she sat down in the warmth and turned her face up toward the sun. The quiet hum of insects and a few distant bleats from sheep were her only distractions.
Lord, forgive me for my unforgiveness . . .
Somehow, she’d have to cleanse her heart of her deep-seated resentment and anger for the Douglas patriarch. She’d mistaken her affection for Kent as forgiveness for his entire family. If Kent hadn’t questioned her innocent look at another option, she might not have realized she still clung to fear.
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.That torment would’ve come back at her if Kent had returned and married her straightaway as he’d planned. It would’ve reared its ugly head and come between them, just as it was now.
Without coming to a point of forgiveness, she couldn’t go to Kent and ask for it. She certainly couldn’t go to Louis, especially with the way he’d been acting according to Kent. So, where did that leave her?
She wanted desperately to tell Kent she held nothing against him or his family, that she’d been considering other things. But what of his words to her? He’d said he didn’t mean them, but she hadn’t believed him, either. Were they both living under misunderstanding?
Was there any other way to take what he’d said? How else was he to gain access to the farm without talking to her? He could’ve simply asked Pa, that would’ve gained him what he desired without tangling her heart in a knot. Unless he’d truly wanted to see her.
But why then insult her if he wanted to continue to speak to her? The only answer she could discern was that he didn’t. He didn’t want to be entangled by her again. He’d escaped her once, then had to return to help with his father. He’d hidden himself away from her for a month to keep his presence a secret.
She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth on her face even as the heaviness of her thoughts drove tears down her cheeks. “I should’ve left well enough alone. If I hadn’t ridden into that pen, I would still be angry with him, but the pain wouldn’t be deep enough to feel like a real knife.”
And if she hadn’t, Hannah’s puppy might be dead. If any good had come of her pain, that was it. She held tight to her skirts as she stood. She glanced toward the roof of the barn, just visible over the rise, and she turned from it, heading to the house instead.
If Kent wanted to see her, from now on he’d have to be the one to seek her out.
Chapter10
As Kent watched Alice stride off over the hill, he focused on keeping himself from biting his own tongue. That was twice that day his infernal mouth had gotten him in trouble. Why couldn’t he just think things through when she was around?
Was he wrong to assume she’d immediately thought of his father when problems arose on the Johlman side of the fence? Who else could she mean? As far as he was aware, only three ranches had been affected, two of them feuding. He glanced around at the few hands milling around. Could one of them be to blame, as it had been one of the hands who’d fanned the flames of hatred before?
“I’d like to point out that Alice was the first, and most adamant, supporter of forgiveness between the families before Armstrong and Dosha married.” Bodey Johlman interrupted his thoughts. “In fact, she might have even supported forgiveness more than my wife or Tamar.”
He ducked his head, unable to answer. If he did, he’d have to admit his reasoning was faulty. Alice had a valid concern, but he’d tossed her thoughts aside because she’d been the one to suggest the idea, and hatred for his father clouded her suggestion.
“Alice is not your enemy here, so what is the issue?” Bodey pressed him further. “I want you here to help with my flock, but not if it means my daughter, who has helped with this flock for years, can’t speak up.”
For as much as he wanted to be angry with Alice for mistrust, he couldn’t quite bring himself to trust Bodey Johlman, either. Perhaps he shouldn’t cast stones at Alice too hard. If he truly trusted the man, he might tell him all the concerns he had with Alice and her suggestions.
“Why don’t you let me see that animal?” Deflection would work. The man was worried about the rest of his flock, probably a lot more than the tension between his veterinarian and his daughter.
Bodey led him behind the barn where they’d moved the animal. They’d need to bury it soon to keep it from drawing in predators. He was thankful for the spring cool weather and the shade of the barn keeping the sun off, but the sheep wouldn’t keep for long.
He crouched at its side, feeling its ribs, thankful that they’d sheered in the spring and he could see all of them easily. He felt along her side for anything broken, then rolled her to check the other side. Her mouth was locked slightly open, tongue hard.
He checked her gums, and a strange scent like garlic assaulted his nose. He glanced up at Bodey. “Do you have a garden with garlic near the fence?” That seemed an odd choice for the sheep to eat, especially since they usually avoided anything with a potent scent.
“No, none. It’s been too damp to grow any for years. It all rots in the ground. The wife tried planting it for the first few years of the flooding, then we ran out and didn’t replace it. I’ll have to once we have a dry year and I can be sure the investment is worth it.”
Kent scratched his chin and examined the animal as thoroughly as he could without performing a necropsy of the animal. Though he would like to, he doubted Bodey’s trust would go that far.
He finally stood and dipped his bandana in the water trough, then used it to wash his hands, scrubbing them as best he could. “I don’t know yet what is causing this, but I still believe it’s something they are eating. It’s consistent with a weed I learned of, but we don’t have such a plant around here. That’s not to say the water couldn’t import it, but not likely. This weed is more common in the southwest, which is why I crossed it off my list from the start.”
