Pocketful of Pearls (28 page)

She gazed thoughtfully at Schatzi on the chair opposite, the warm mug of tea cradled in her hands. “It’s true, isn’t it?”
she said. “I always came crawling back before so that I could have his approval.” She shook her head. “Isn’t that pitiful?
I probably never really had it. It was all in my head. He probably despised me the whole time.”

“Who knows what went on in his mind? He came to you for something he needed. Now that he can’t get it, I wonder what he’ll
do.”

Dinah nodded, and her forehead creased. “I worry about the Bell girls. They’re thirteen and fourteen, and Linda would be nothing
but delighted if the senior Shepherd started staying with them more. It’s a mark of favor, you know. A sign that you’ve been
doing something right.”

“Can you warn her?”

Dinah laughed. “Linda Bell? Are you kidding? That woman cares more about social standing than either of the favored families.
She could walk in on Phinehas doing his worst with Melanie and Tracy and tell herself he was praying with them.”

“We’ll just have to pray for her. That the Lord will give her discernment.”

She gave him a doubtful glance. “If you think it will help.”

“Oh, I think it will.” That was progress, wasn’t it? The last time they’d discussed prayer, she’d made a fool of him and walked
away. “When I haven’t been cleaning up after the ladies out there, or working on the leases, or researching the eating habits
of babies, I’ve been pestering the Lord about you. Perhaps it did some good.” He smiled at her. “Something is working. The
changes around here are quite amazing, as Phinehas remarked at supper.”

“If you say so.” She didn’t sound convinced, but at least she wasn’t laughing.

“Speaking of researching, I came across something on the ’net this afternoon.”

“Oh?” She sipped her tea and eyed him curiously.

“It’s about Tamsen. I think you ought to do something about her. Legally, I mean.”

“Why? We’ll find Tamara.”

“Even if you do, from the tone of that letter it doesn’t seem likely she’s going to want to take up motherhood again.”

“She’ll have to.” Dinah’s voice was grim.

“But say she doesn’t. Now Phinehas knows Tamsen is his. Legally, he has parental rights.”

“What are you saying?” She put her mug down next to his, as if to free up her hands to . . . what? Fight?

“I’m saying he could take her away from you.”

“He’s a Shepherd. A missionary.” She gripped the arm of the couch. “He lives out of a suitcase. How is he going to take care
of a baby?”

“Maybe he wouldn’t. But he could take her from you and give her to a family with what he considers a better attitude. More
complaisant. A family that would allow her to be brought up in an atmosphere where she’d be raised to worship him, as you
were.”

“Oh, no. And then Mom would be right. The cycle would start all over again.” Her lower lip trembled. “I won’t let that happen.
I just won’t. He doesn’t have any rights at all, including the right to just hand her off like a piece of livestock, to be
fattened up for the auction.”

“The question is are you willing to go to court for her?”

“Of course I am! Do you know what I have to do?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.” His research skills had paid off in spades in the last day or two. “You apply to the court for
nonparental custody.”

“But what if I want to adopt her? Isn’t that a better idea?”

He held up his hands, as if to slow her down. “That’s one of your options, certainly, but the difficulty is that both parents
are still alive. You have to hunt them down and have them declared incompetent—”

“I can do that in Phinehas’s case, no problem.”

“—and get them to relinquish all rights.”

“Tammy did that in her letter.”

“Well, according to my information, the letter helps, but it isn’t enough.”

She sighed again. “Okay. What does this other thing involve?”

Now came the delicate part. “I took the liberty of contacting an attorney in Pitchford, which I understand is the county seat.
Just for information purposes, mind,” he added hastily. “I apologize if I’m treading on your toes.”

She stared at him. “Treading on my toes? Good grief, Matthew, this is wonderful. I’ve been trying not to think about it, and
you’ve been doing all the work. It’s almost like—” She stopped. He could see her throat working.

“Like what?” he prompted gently.

“Like you want me to be her guardian,” she whispered. “Or . . . something.”

“Is that a good thing?” He certainly didn’t want to lay more burdens on her. In fact, had he been in her place, he would have
booted this nosy Cornishman out of here long ago.

“I want to be a mom, some day,” she confessed quietly. “But I couldn’t see how it could be possible. Phinehas wouldn’t let
any of the young men get close to me, not that many tried. And even if they did, I’m used goods. There are ten women to every
eligible man in the Elect. No one in his right mind would choose me over some pretty virgin with all her options open.”

It broke his heart that she saw herself this way. Phinehas had far too much to answer for.

“Only a man in his right mind would choose you,” he assured her softly. Gently, so as not to frighten her, he smoothed a tendril
of hair from her temple. “You have an enormous capacity for love. Look at you, arranging to care for Tamsen under circumstances
that would frighten most people away. You cared for a starving, homeless man. You’re supporting your mother. You’re as capable
in the house as you are in your business affairs, and you know all there is to know about chickens and cattle. What man wouldn’t
want a woman like you?”

With every word, her cheeks got a little more scarlet. Or perhaps it was his touch. Maybe she didn’t like it. Heaven knew
she had no reason to value the caress of any man.

“That’s all very well,” she mumbled, “but most men want to marry a woman they’re attracted to. And I don’t compete very well
in that department.”

“You’re used to seeing yourself through other people’s eyes. How about seeing through mine?” he suggested with a smile. “I
see a woman who smiles rarely, but when she does, it’s like the sun burning away the clouds. I see a woman with dark eyes
that a man could fall into, and skin so soft and fragile he’s almost afraid to touch it. I see a woman with hands capable
enough to drive a Jeep yet gentle enough to comfort a crying baby or cuddle a frightened chicken.”

His voice dropped as he saw her lower lip tremble. “I see shoulders that bear other people’s burdens as well as her own. I
see dark hair always trying to work its way out of imprisonment, and feet that would leave but that stay for love’s sake.”
He paused. Her eyes were wet. “Why would any man not want a woman like that?”

She made a choked sound, and pitched forward into his arms. He pulled her closer, fitting her against him. He hadn’t truly
held her since that dreadful day when she had lost Sheba. But this wasn’t a simple offering of comfort. He held her because
he needed to. Because he hadn’t just been saying these things to build up her confidence and make her feel better.

He meant every word.

Under the black fabric of her dress, her arms and shoulders were thin, but not as thin as they had been. One arm curled around
his neck and she hung on as if someone were going to grab her around the waist and tear her away. But no one was going to
do that, he swore silently to himself. He may not have much in the way of worldly prospects to offer her, but he could offer
support and friendship and loyalty.

And more, if she would allow it.

Matthew realized that his world had just rocked on its axis and had begun spinning in a different direction. A direction that
had a sense of purpose.

Dinah Traynell had given his life meaning. For months he had been wandering in a fugue state brought on by disgrace and disappointment,
traveling because there was a road in front of him, not because he had any desire to set his course there. He was convinced
God had brought him to this ranch on the lonely side of a mountain for a reason, and now he knew what it was.

He’d brought him here for Dinah.

They were both battered and damaged. He might look like a soldier ready to topple over on the field of battle. He might have
lost his sword and have no idea where the rest of the army was, but he still had his shield of faith. And maybe, just maybe,
there was room under it for two, at least in the short term.

All that remained now was to convince Dinah that not every man on the planet was out to hurt her. That some might even have
something to give.

He wanted to give. Badly.

The storm of weeping against his chest had subsided to an occasional sniffle. “Do you want a tissue?” he whispered.

“No, I’m okay. Can you . . . can you just hold me for a minute?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say,
No, I’d rather hold you for a lifetime,
but he didn’t want to frighten her off. Instead, he adjusted them both so that she cuddled into his side.

He marveled at how good she felt there. How very right. As if both of their long journeys had culminated in this warm, safe
spot where there was just the two of them, drawing comfort from each other where they could not find it anywhere else.

Which, he suspected with a sense of dawning joy, was what the Father had had in mind all along.

FOR ONLY THE
second time in her life, Dinah stayed home from Wednesday night prayer meeting without the excuse that she was sick or dead.
Tamsen had been cranky all day, and between her and going grocery shopping and spending a fruitless hour on the Internet trying
to put the baby on their medical plan, Dinah was worn out. The thought of dressing a screaming child and taking her to Gathering,
where she’d spend the entire time standing outside in frustrated embarrassment, was just too much.

“Are you sure?” Elsie asked, when Dinah managed to keep Tamsen quiet by putting her in her plastic tub for a bath. “You might
get something for your spirit if you go.”

“How can I do that when I’m standing in the parking lot?” Dinah sighed. “You go ahead, Mom. You can tell me what helped you
when you get home.”

“Maybe she’s got colic.” Elsie eyed Tamsen as the baby took a deep breath. “Should we take her to Dr. Archer?”

“I have to get her on the medical plan first. And they require official paperwork because she hasn’t been born or adopted
into our family. Matthew says that once I have this thing called
non-parental custody,
I can do everything an actual parent can do.”

“Why would you do that?” Elsie paused in the middle of tucking a tissue into her Bible bag. “As soon as we find Tamara the
baby will go back to her.”

“I can’t count on that, Mom. I have to do what’s best for Tamsen, and right now that seems to be getting her some sort of
official status. I can’t even take her in for her shots right now.”

“I think you’re wrong.” A harsh note Dinah hadn’t heard in a long time crept into her voice. “You’re letting Tamara get away
with her irresponsible behavior. And now I need to go or I’ll be late for Gathering, but we’ll talk about it when I get back.”

Dinah didn’t reply. Instead, she ran the warm cloth over Tamsen’s wriggling body, devoutly grateful that she seemed to like
this, if nothing else.

The kitchen was silent but for Tamsen’s enthusiasm about the bubbles in the tub and the hum of the fridge. Matthew had invited
her to take a ramble along the river’s edge with him, but she had declined. If she went into the living room and looked out,
she would probably be able to see his long frame through the trees, poking at piles of leaves and turning over rocks. Professor
or not, he had that in common with small children and chickens. Everything interested him, no matter how insignificant.

For about the hundredth time since last night, her mind went back to that perfect moment with him on the couch. The lovely
things he had said to her—and more, the tone of absolute truth in which he’d said them. There was no doubt in her mind that
he meant every word.

Instead of running away or discounting and deflecting what he said, the way she might have done a month ago, she had let his
voice pour over her like water, its warmth cleansing away the layers of dirt on her self-esteem.

It had been a long time since she’d opened her Bible out of more than a sense of duty, to get herself in the proper frame
of mind for Gathering. When she’d finished bathing Tamsen, she dressed her in her sleepers and settled into the easy chair.
Morton’s Bible, the gilt edges worn gray from constant thumbing, sat on the lower shelf of the end table. Dinah cradled Tamsen
in one arm and picked the Bible up.

In Psalm 139, she read, “If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall
thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.”

There was a time when she’d seen that verse as a threat. Now it seemed comforting. No matter what she’d been through, no matter
how far she’d run or how many walls she’d thrown up, was it really possible that God would pursue her with His love until
she accepted it?