The Measure of a Man Page 15

  Lizzie rose and stretched, grateful that now the building storm was only outside and no longer in her heart. With slow steps she retraced her way toward the house, happily making plans. Just how did she go about growing? she wondered. Babies needed milk before they graduated to solid food. What did that mean in a spiritual sense? She couldn’t wait to talk to Brother Webster and find out. Lizzie felt that a whole new adventure lay before her. Growth wasn’t always without its pains, she knew, but it would be worth it. For the present, she would concentrate her whole being on her spiritual quest.

  Adam McKenzie’s face sprang into her mind, and it surprised Lizzie so that she stopped dead in her tracks. She rubbed her eyes, as if she could scrub the image away. Why was she thinking of Adam, with his unruly hair and melting brown eyes? Was this a temptation being thrown at her to stop her spiritual journey before it started?

  Maybe it was time to deal with thoughts of Adam once and for all, she decided. She had known Adam since childhood, and had seen him only as a routine part of the fabric of her life. Like the background of a tapestry, she thought, where the muted colors formed a regular pattern necessary for contrast with the central part of the design, but didn’t stand out on their own.

  So why had this section of the background suddenly taken on brilliance enough to keep popping into her mind, unbidden and at the most surprising times?

  Adam had stepped out of the background more than once recently, she had to admit. His name came up repeatedly in family conversations of late, although Lizzie had to confess she’d been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she really didn’t know all that had been said about him. Papa and Uncle Jeff spoke of him with increasing respect, though. She’d picked that up unconsciously, just from the tone of their voices.

  And it wasn’t just in conversation that Adam appeared. He had sprung out of nowhere to rescue Willie the day her brother had played his horrible trick on her. Or did he rescue me that day. . .from myself? she wondered wryly. Then he had come to her rescue like the most gallant knight of old when he had found her alone after Tom’s desertion. Lizzie couldn’t remember that episode clearly, only that she had felt safe and protected when he had cradled her in his arms.

  And lately. . .Lizzie’s stomach did a flip-flop at the thought of how she had felt when Adam’s gaze bored into her at the picnic, in the barn, wherever they happened to meet. Even when other people were around, their glances only had to meet and hold for Lizzie to feel that only the two of them existed. It was a pleasant feeling, but unsettling. Did her presence affect Adam the same way? Was it possible that. . . ?

  Lizzie shook herself, irritated. Hadn’t she learned anything? Tom’s sweet words had taken her breath away. The touch of his hands on her face had made her toes curl. But feelings weren’t enough, as she had learned to her sorrow. The honeyed words were hollow, and by Tom’s own admission, his hands had caressed other faces besides hers. What she had taken as a great love had been nothing more than a pleasant pastime for him. If that was the way men were, she determined, she would never again trust mere feelings for guidance. And Adam, she reminded herself with regret, was a man—a man just like Tom.

  Wasn’t he?

  She wouldn’t—couldn’t—make the same mistake again. It was better for herself, for Adam, for everyone concerned if she devoted herself to growing in Christ. She needed to put Adam out of her mind and focus on the Lord. Maybe someday she could examine her feelings for Adam with some spiritual maturity. Until then, she would avoid contact with him. It was only fair.

  Lizzie halted on the porch steps. Poor Dancer, she thought, cooped up in his stall. Even if she didn’t plan to go for a ride, the least she could do was bring him outdoors for a breath of fresh air, such as it was. Her mind made up, she turned and walked to the barn. The poor horse must be as hot and miserable as she was. She would brush him down, fuss over him, and let him know he was appreciated. With Dancer, at least, she didn’t have to worry about his affection being a product of her imagination.

  ❧

  Adam rocked along in the saddle, so much at home there that keeping rhythm with his horse’s gait came without conscious effort. The horse knew the way back to headquarters as well as Adam did, leaving Adam free to daydream. As the completion of his renovation drew nearer, so did the time he would be able to tell Lizzie of the life he envisioned—and how he hoped she would share it with him.

  Adam played out various scenarios in his mind, rejecting them one by one. Lizzie had gone through a lot with Tom Mallory. Adam wanted above all to make her understand that his own intentions were beyond reproach and that he would be honored to be given the responsibility of caring for her for the rest of his life. The moment would have to be perfect.

  He would wait, he decided, until the final touches on the house were completed. He had previously entertained the notion that with most of the work already done, it might be finished enough to let Lizzie see. Now he discarded that idea. It would be better, he was sure, to wait until every detail had been attended to.

  How would he approach Lizzie on this? If she would consent to it, he might invite her to go for a ride, then take her to his ranch and get her reaction to the place first. Then he would have a better idea of how to proceed.

  If he weren’t working so hard on the house, putting in so many hours there in addition to his work at the Double B, he might have time to court her properly and build the relationship gradually. As it was, though, he was so busy building the beginnings of a life for them that there was no time for that.

  Adam liked to do things properly and in order. Life dealt its share of changes to the plans he made, but he still found security in starting a project with a definite goal in mind. The problem with the current situation was that he really had no idea of Lizzie’s feelings toward him.

  He had been in love with Lizzie Bradley for years, since way back when she was just a girl, and voicing feelings like that about his boss’s daughter then would probably have gotten him thrown off the ranch, if not worse. It hadn’t kept him from loving her, though. Nor from following her with his gaze, memorizing every facial expression, every gesture. He could close his eyes in the dark of night and call up a picture of Lizzie without any conscious effort. After all, he’d practiced enough over the years.

  Adam had sensed that Lizzie was feeling the first stirrings of womanhood before she had been aware of it herself. To Adam, it seemed like God’s providence that his accumulated savings had enabled him to buy the Blair place at just that time. He had taken it on faith that God was opening his way, one step at a time. To have Charles’s blessing and support in this venture was an additional encouragement.

  Adam was completely certain of his own feelings, and God seemed to be making the way plain before him. The only unknown in the whole situation was Lizzie herself, and how she would react. In the past few months Adam had known the heights of joy, then plummeted to the depths of despair, as Lizzie’s manner toward him had alternately warmed and cooled. The advent of Tom Mallory had appeared to set him back immeasurably—at one point, seemingly forever—but now he could see how even that could work for good. If only Lizzie could see it the same way!

  Her attitude lately had puzzled him. The day he had come across her in the barn, it seemed to him that a magnetic force was drawing them inexorably together. And at the church picnic, he knew beyond a doubt that when their eyes had met and held, she was drawn to him as much as he was to her. Surely he couldn’t have imagined that! Immediately afterward, though, she had chattered to her parents and the children, hardly sending a word or a glance in his direction. He had to know where he stood, and soon. The uncertainty was killing him. That was why his approach, when he made it, had to be done just right, thought out perfectly.

  His horse’s gait quickened, and Adam glanced up to see the ranch house and outbuildings coming into view. His heart nearly stopped when he recognized the object of his daydreams walk to the house, then pause and turn toward the barn.

  So
mething shifted in Adam’s brain. Maybe he’d been too methodical, too cautious. Maybe Lizzie needed to see a more spontaneous side of him. Without pausing to think things through in his usual way, Adam suddenly threw caution and all his careful planning to the winds and galloped down to the barn.

  Exhaustion from the work he’d already put in that day rolled away as he swung from the saddle and threw his horse’s reins over the hitching rail. He took a moment to run his fingers through his hair and tuck his shirt in snugly, then took a deep breath and strode into the barn.

  ❧

  Lizzie was already halfway down the aisle with Dancer when Adam entered, blinking to accustom his eyes to the darker interior. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, and her breath caught in her throat. She willed her feet to move forward, though it felt as though she were forcing them through a molasses-filled swamp.

  It was a good thing, she thought, she had just had that talk with the Lord. Knowing the way she felt around Adam, coming upon him so soon after he had once more filled her thoughts might have left her dangerously vulnerable. And she wouldn’t allow that to happen. It wasn’t good for her, and it was hardly fair to Adam.

  Adam seemed as ill at ease as she did, she noted. Normally the model of self-assurance, today he stood shifting his weight from one foot to another like a nervous schoolboy. What was wrong with him? Well, it wouldn’t matter, once she got around him.

  If she got around him, she amended. Either he didn’t realize he was blocking her way or didn’t care. Lizzie cleared her throat. “Good afternoon,” she said civilly, if coolly.

  “Lizzie.” Adam cleared his own throat in echo, looking distinctly uncomfortable as he twisted his hat in his hands. “I need to talk to you.”

  Even a good ten feet from him, Lizzie felt her breath quicken as that now-familiar tingling ran up and down her arms again. She didn’t want to be rude, but it would be pointless to prolong this encounter.

  “Would you excuse me, Adam? I need to get by.” Adam shifted all of six inches to his right, and Lizzie sighed impatiently. There was no way she was going to try to squeeze between him and the barn wall. Not the way he affected her.

  “Lizzie, please listen,” Adam pleaded. “I wanted to wait to tell you this. I’d planned it all differently, but seeing you now, I can’t wait any longer.”

  Lizzie stared, openmouthed. Where in the world was this heading? Had Adam done something he needed to apologize for? Even as the thought crossed her mind, she rejected it. If that were the case, he’d come right out and admit it like the straightforward man he was. Something in his eyes, locked on hers, entreating her to stay, touched a responsive chord deep in her soul. Warning signals flashed wildly in Lizzie’s head. If she didn’t watch out, her resolve would melt into a puddle right there on the barn floor, and her newborn determination to grow in the Lord along with it.

  She’d better try to get past him, after all, whether he moved over any farther or not. She moved forward, edging Dancer close to Adam to increase the distance between them. Feeling a flush of relief when she was past, she led Dancer quickly toward the outside door. Surely Adam wouldn’t continue this conversation outdoors where anyone could see them.

  She hadn’t counted on Adam moving swiftly behind Dancer and coming up on her other side. She whirled when his hand closed on her shoulder. “Adam, what. . .” Her voice trailed off as she saw the anguish in his eyes. “Are you ill?” she asked with dawning concern.

  Adam dropped his hand and smiled sheepishly. “I do feel a little shaky,” he admitted. “I’m doing this badly, Lizzie, and I’m sorry. I meant this to be something special, and I’m making a mess of it.” He breathed deeply and began again, his voice husky with feeling. “In case you don’t know it, Lizzie Bradley, you are one very special woman. I’ve known that for years. . . .”

  His voice went on, but Lizzie didn’t hear any more. The voice in her ears was not Adam’s, but Tom’s, saying nearly the same words. “You’re a wonderful girl, Lizzie.” The words echoed inside her.

  If she had needed a sign, this was it. She refused to go down that path again. With a raised hand she stopped Adam in midsentence, not knowing or caring what he was trying to say.

  “Adam, I made a decision just before you came. I need to learn more about myself, and what I’m supposed to do. I don’t think we should be having this conversation.”

  Adam started as if she had slapped him, and a red flush stained his cheek as if her hand had indeed made contact. His lips moved, but no words came forth. His gaze probed hers as though trying to read her thoughts.

  “You’re sure?” The words came out in a hoarse croak.

  Lizzie nodded. She couldn’t think about God—or anything else!—when Adam was nearby. Keeping her distance would surely be the best thing for both of them. Without another word, Adam turned on his heel and strode out of the barn. Through the doorway, Lizzie could see him mount his sweat-stained horse and gallop away. She wondered briefly where he was going in such a hurry. It wasn’t like Adam to overwork an obviously tired animal.

  nineteen

  After a week of much Bible study and prayer, Lizzie had to admit that she had wasted years of her Christian life by not getting better acquainted with her Lord. Time spent with Him had become a precious part of her day, and she was steadily gaining a better sense of her identity in Him.

  She also had to admit that having Adam out of her life hadn’t been the relief she had thought it would be. An overheard conversation between her parents told her he was spending time at his own ranch, wherever that was. Lizzie remembered vague snippets of talk about his ranch but had not really registered the fact that Adam had another place he could call home now, a place that wasn’t the Double B. While she no longer had to contend with the effect he had on her whenever he was nearby, it didn’t prevent her thoughts from turning to him again and again. Even prayer didn’t seem to drive his image away, and Lizzie had come to a startling conclusion—she missed Adam, missed him deeply.

  In frustration, she decided to get away from the familiar surroundings for a few hours. Maybe some time spent alone with the Lord would enable her to make sense of the whole confusing situation.

  Today she turned Dancer toward the northwest, deliberately choosing an area she seldom visited. She wanted to see nothing today that would evoke an emotion-laden memory. The ground grew rough, and she guided Dancer carefully around a maze of sharp rocks. Father, I need this same kind of guidance. Show me what I’m doing wrong, and help me to know which path to take. A depression opened up in the ground before her, apparently the mouth of a ravine.

  Lizzie studied the opening. She didn’t remember seeing or hearing of this place before. It was too steep and rocky for Dancer to try, but she was curious to see what lay within its walls. Tying Dancer’s reins loosely to a tree trunk, she patted his neck, saying, “You stay here in the shade. I probably won’t be a minute.”

  Lizzie picked her way carefully through the undergrowth, hanging on to the trunks of small trees to keep her balance as the floor of the ravine descended at a sharp angle. What a wild, lovely spot this was! Once inside, it seemed she was in her own private world. It would be a perfect place to come when, like today, she needed to get away.

  Stopping to catch her breath, she scanned the ravine. Sheer rock walls rose on either side, and numerous trees and bushes dotted the interior. Up ahead, it appeared the ravine made a turn, and Lizzie moved on to see what lay beyond.

  When she was about to round the corner, Lizzie heard a sound ahead of her and froze. Was it a voice? But who would come here? Who else even knew of this place? She pressed against the wall, cautiously eased her head around the bend, and stopped still in amazement.

  Adam knelt beside a large rock, his elbows propped on its smooth surface. His back was to Lizzie, and she strained her eyes to see who he might be talking to. His voice continued, and she realized with a start that he was praying. Embar-rassed by her sense of intrusion, she started to slip away, then
stopped short when she heard her name. Calling herself the worst kind of eavesdropper, she leaned her back against the rock wall and inched her head closer to the corner.

  “. . .don’t understand it,” he was saying. “Have I read everything wrong, thinking I saw Your hand at work when it was my own selfish desires?” Lizzie blinked. Could someone as stable as Adam possibly have the same kind of struggle she had experienced? She tried to keep from breathing, wanting to hear every word.

  “You know how I feel about Lizzie,” he went on. “For years she’s been all I wanted, all I hoped for. As far as I could see, You were working things out in Your timing. I’ve even thought lately that she felt some of the same things for me. But now. . .I tried to pour out my heart to her and she sent me away. Why, Lord? Why?” The cry sounded as though it had been wrung from the depths of his soul.

  Lizzie trembled from head to foot. Adam took a shuddering breath and continued. “You ask us to sacrifice sometimes, but I never dreamed I’d have to sacrifice my love for Lizzie.” He went on in a stronger, more determined voice. “If that’s what you’re asking of me, though, I know that You know best. Father, I lay my love for her and my hopes for our future on the altar before You. Help me to bear the loss if I have to give her up forever.”

  Lizzie pressed her fist against her lips to stifle a sob. She started to ease away, but stopped once more at the mention of her name. “Please look after Lizzie, Lord. Guard her and protect her, and do what’s best in her life. I trust You with that, because I know You love her even more than I do.”

  It was too much for Lizzie, who crept back from the corner and made her unsteady way to Dancer. She gave the horse his head, not trusting herself to guide him when she couldn’t see for the tears that blurred her eyes.

  Adam loved her! The thought blazed across her consciousness like a comet. “Adam loves me.” She said it aloud, testing the sound of the words. It still didn’t seem possible. When had this happened? And why hadn’t she known of it until now? Lizzie reviewed the years since Adam had come to the Double B, seeking some clue.