Trace chuckled falling in behind the slim form of the young woman who was walking toward the barn. Maybe a ride along the creek trail would put her mind at ease and let her work out what her next move would be. Either way, he would be praying for her as they rode.
***
“I’ve never been down this way,” Marissa said as she ducked under a low-hanging limb. The trail was long and winding as it followed the stream from the other side of Kade and Michelle’s place.
“I figured you would have been down to your sister's print-shop,” Trace said.
“Yes, but she takes that little dirt road and either drives the truck or the pony cart. She doesn’t follow the stream.”
“It’s been one of my favorite trails since coming here to work,” Trace said. “It’s cool and shady in most places because of the trees, and you get some nice views from the higher places.”
Marissa breathed in the smell of green trees, and summer grass, listening to the trickling stream as it grew louder where it approached the old sawmill that had been converted into Michelle’s workshop.
“We’re getting close to Michelle’s shop aren’t we?” she asked letting Amethyst or Amy as everyone called the horse, pick her way along the dark trail.
“Yes, the stream turns here then plunges to the waterwheel there. It’s a nice setup. The old sawmill was efficient back then, and it is now as well. Kade even set it up so the old mill generates the power for the print-shop,” Trace said then chuckled. “I guess you’d know that better than me since she’s your sister.”
“There seems to be a load of history wrapped up in this place,” Marissa agreed. “It must have been pretty amazing when this ranch was expanding as the original daughters married.”
“You like the history of things,” Trace asked looking back over his shoulder as they made the turn of the trail and stepped out onto a small raised plain that looked out over the narrow waterfall pouring onto the slowly turning waterwheel.
“I’m always interested,” Marissa said. “I teach fifth grade, and one of my favorite subjects is history.”
Trace smiled pulling his horse to a stop and letting her mount step up beside him, so they could look across the prairie. “My dad has history right here in Wyoming,” Trace said. “He comes from a long line of ranchers, and sheepherders a little further west of here. I always enjoyed the stories his father told about the family.”
Marissa turned, studying the face of the man beside her. He looked so comfortable, so at ease sitting on his big gray horse. It was as if he knew exactly who he was and what his place on this earth was. Trace was a handsome man, and his ability to sit so still as he gazed across the prairie was enviable.
“So your family is from Wyoming?” Marissa asked wanting to know something more about the cowboy.
“Yes, generations of Sparaks have been living and working in Wyoming. My dad moved here to Tipton when my mom left. My sister needed a lot of medical care and there were more doctors and specialists here than back in the tiny town of Biders Clump.”
“If you don’t mind me asking what’s wrong with your sister?”
Trace leaned on his saddle horn feeling his horse shift under him as he turned his head, his blue eyes full of emotion. “My mom didn’t want her,” he stated flatly. “When that didn’t work, she left as soon as Daisy was born.”
Marissa felt an icy fire plunge into her middle at the cowboy’s words. “Is that why you gave me that card?” she asked quietly ducking her head to hide from the pain in his eyes.
“That, and the fact that God has a purpose for everyone on this earth even if we can’t always see it. Every day we’re faced with choices, but they don’t only affect us, they affect everyone around us.”
Marissa stiffened as his words shot toward her heart. He was so sure of himself, so positive he knew what was right, but he wasn’t the one stuck with the possibility of having to raise a child alone. “I suppose you’d be willing to raise someone else’s child then,” she spat, pulling Amy’s reins snug. “It’s just that easy, no worries just do it because you should?”
“Yes,” Trace said sitting up tall in the saddle and meeting her flashing dark eyes. “I would.”
“Right,” Marissa spat, “Mr. High and Mighty. You men just get to walk away and leave us, women, holding the bag. I don’t believe you would take on a child that isn’t yours.”
Trace looked into Marissa’s angry face his eyes sad. “You don’t have to believe me,” he said. “You don’t even have to like me, but I do care, and no matter what you’re going through, I know you don’t have to do it alone. All I can do is ask that you meet my sister before you make any decisions about your future.”
Marissa glared at the man, her temper raging as she yanked Amy’s head around and headed down the trail toward the lower stream crossing, spurring the horse toward the print-shop as hot tears stung her eyes.
Trace dropped his head but kicked his horse into a gallop. He wasn’t trying to be difficult. He truly wanted to help the young woman with such sad eyes. He knew firsthand how much damage one rash decision could do to a family. His whole world had been shattered after his mother’s breakdown and ultimate abandonment.
“Marissa,” he called catching up to her on the other side of the stream and pulling Amy to a stop. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said his rich voice full of compassion. “I just wanted you to know that you have a real opportunity here and that I’d be willing to help you if you asked.”
Marissa turned to the cowboy, tears filling her eyes. “You’re serious aren’t you?” she said studying his face and wanting to believe
