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The water ran quicker there, before the bend, making it appear clearer. Dr. Spight had warned her she might find nothing but more questions, but eliminating other questions was still a good use of her time. Speaking of . . . She tugged her watch from the chain around her neck out of the bodice of her shirtwaist and checked the time.
Two in the afternoon. Plenty of time. Though she had to be back in Belle Fourche and on the way home by four. If she missed supper, Pa would wonder where she was and since she hadn’t stopped to bother Hannah, her sister couldn’t vouch for her.
Part of her craved clear direction, a solid something to focus on. But Dr. Spight had seemed to think that a loose idea, one that forced her to ask more questions, was the better way. Her father had taught her to only ask what was pertinent: what could she do about a problem and what solutions were available? What was the risk? Dr. Spight’s method asked her to put aside those questions and look for something she couldn’t see.
But what could cause the water to make animals sick if not plants? They had looked at everything that grew near the river and come up with nothing. She’d taken a sample of the water and also found nothing. What did that leave?
Ahead, black smoke from the chimney of a new fertilizer plant belched a dark column into the sky. The building had been built during the second year of flooding and the people of Belle Fourche had heralded it as a miracle since so many farms had literally gone under during that time. Men now had jobs and could feed their families.
The black smoke, right next to the river, made her curious about what they were doing there. Did they pour anything in the river, things that might float downstream and, though they be few, hurt the animals? She stretched to see the building more clearly. Pa had told her the company didn’t allow anyone in unless they worked there. In fact, people who applied to work there were not allowed inside until they were hired. All applications were made by letter.
What could they possibly have to hide? A man on a roan horse waited near the river, a shotgun nestled across his lap. Tingles spread down her limbs. Had they set a man to guard the entrance to the plant? Why do such a thing unless they had something to hide?
The sound of approaching hoofbeats distracted her from her questions. She turned in the saddle to make sure armed men weren’t sneaking up on her from behind. Kent’s form appeared in the distance and she turned her mount to face him. Why had he followed her? Did he finally plan to speak to her?
He didn’t speak until he was abreast of her, face-to-face, and her stomach quivered in that bothersome way it had been doing. She pressed it slightly, telling it silently to hush.
“Alice, I just finished speaking with Dr. Spight. He thought I should seek you out and ask your theories about the water. I’d thought we’d spoken about it before . . .” He glanced at the river, then past her, concern furrowing his brow.
“We did. I thought your ideas were good ones but decided the full extent of the issue hadn’t been explored.”
“You mean, as to whether my father poisoned the water?” He swung down off his horse and waited for her to answer.
“Since I’m here searching for answers, not along your property or mine but miles away, I would think you would see that my suggestion wasn’t that your father had anything to do with the sickness. Your father doesn’t hold all the evil in this world. Far from it.”
His brow softened slightly. “Come down and talk to me for a while?”
Her heart begged her to agree immediately and heartily, but her head tugged at her to think through the ramifications first. He’d insulted her, used her, left her. What good could come of talking to him? Outside of possibly finding the answer to the questions surrounding the sickness in her flock?
“I know I’ve said some things that have made you angry. When I said I was speaking to you to gain access to the barn, to help the dog, that wasn’t what I meant. I spoke to you to make the situation more palatable to your father. That’s true. But that wasn’t myreasonfor speaking to you.”
So, they’d both suffered under misunderstanding. Perhaps when he’d looked at her that day, like he might want to kiss her, that had been how he felt, but why had he remained silent since? “You’ve had days to speak to me, to tell me what you meant. Why wait until now?”
Though she wouldn’t complain about the fact that they were alone in the middle of a beautiful grassy field next to a river and no one was the wiser about where they were, she was in danger of scuffing her reputation if she wasn’t careful. Especially since, at least Dr. Spight for sure, and perhaps others, knew they were there.
“I’ve been trying to tell you,” he stalled, striding up to her horse, “I can’t talk to you up there. Please come down?”
Without thinking, she held out her arms for his help. His hands encased her waist a moment later and the fluttering that had been merely bothersome a moment before seemed like a reprieve compared to the fluttery explosion with his touch. A tiny, “Oh!” escaped her lips before she could school her reaction.
The faintest smile played at the corner of his lips as he took two steps back, giving her space once again. She brushed her split skirt flat, hiding her nerves. Her brothers had helped her off her mount probably hundreds of times, but never to that effect. “There, my feet are planted. Now you can speak without craning your neck.”
He slipped his hand to her back and led her toward the river. How dare her traitorous body feel compelled to react to his touch! Within moments, he had them down next to the rolling river and seated on a sun-hardened sandbar.
“Before you continue, I must be truthful.” If he could be honest with her, so could she. “While I didn’t mean to accuse your father, in fact, he wasn’t even on my mind at all when I suggested a human origin for the problem, what you said made me think. I thought I’d forgiven him for all he’d done, but I’m still frightened of him, which means I haven’t forgiven him. I’m sorry.”
He reached out toward her hand, then pulled back and plucked a long blade of grass instead. “I know. The same type of feeling toward your father recently cropped up in my own thoughts. I couldn’t tell him everything I thought because it’s so instilled in me to keep all knowledge from him.”
“Then we both have unforgiveness in our hearts.”
He chuckled. “It’s really not surprising. I’m sure we’ll eventually heal from the past, but that will take time. Do you forgive me?” He looked up then, meeting her eyes. Their intensity captivating her.
“I do.” Against all reasoning, she had to. Her heart wouldn’t allow her not to. She laid her hand on his knee and hid her smile when he jolted at her touch. He couldn’t admit he felt nothing. His body betrayed him. “I must be clear, Kent. I still very much feel all those things I told you I felt before you left for school. Some would say they are stronger now.”
“Is that your scientific observation?” His voice was low, rumbly, almost broken.
“I’m no scientist, but I’ll learn. If you’ll teach me.”
He covered her hand with his own, warmth flowing between them. This was how they’d been before he’d left. What had made him change? Was it possible to overcome the change? She laughed at her thoughts. Perhaps she was more of a scientist than she thought. She was getting used to asking many questions, at least.
