Page 11 of Heart of Mystic Valley
Nathan had cut and stacked more wood than they’d need, his hands raw and blistered from years of calluses. He hauled his axe and tools back to the shed, his gait indicating his exhaustion.
At the barns, Joshua and his group had patched roofs and reinforced walls, their handiwork solid and dependable. The young ranch hands had gained valuable experience, and Joshua was pleased with their progress.
Inside the house, the women had finished preserving the vegetables. Rows of mason jars lined the counters, their contents a rainbow of sustenance. Naomi and the girls took a moment to admire their work before dispersing to tend to other duties.
Joshua looked to the horizon, gauging the time by the sun’s descent, and called an end to the day’s labor.
Gavin had spent the day flitting from one work site to another, his casted arm a glaring symbol of his impotence. He offered advice, ran small errands, and tried to make himself useful, but each rejection chipped away at his usual optimism. By evening, he was on his bunk, fast asleep.
The family washed up and gathered once more around the great oak table, their faces a mosaic of fatigue and fulfillment.
Supper was a quieter affair than the night before. The Becketts spoke in soft tones, conserving what little energy they had left. Plates were piled high with meatloaf and mashed potatoes, portions fit for a crew of loggers. Lilian had delivered the same fare to the bunkhouse, the older hands and boys digging in before she closed the door behind her.
“Glad to get the winter preparations over,” said Annalee, yawning.
“We got a lot done,” Grayson acknowledged. “But always more to do.”
“Always is,” said Jolene, patting his hand. “But we can breathe a bit now.”
Joshua surveyed the tired but content faces of his family. This was what he loved most about ranch life. The tangible results of hard work always drew them all closer together.
Parker’s mention of the mountain lion cut through the comfortable haze like a knife. “Heard a mountain lion today,” he said, spearing a piece of meatloaf with his fork. “Cried like a baby.”
Grayson nodded. “Probably the same one who caused Gavin’s horse to buck. Big male, from the looks of him.”
Speculation buzzed around the table. Annalee wondered if the lion was desperate enough to come down into the valley for livestock, while Lilian asked whether the men should take turns standing watch at night.
“It’s nature,” said Nathan, his tone more philosophical than usual. “The lion’s trying to survive. We can’t fault him for that.”
“No, but we can be prepared,” Naomi said, her voice cutting through Nathan’s musing. “Losing a calf is one thing. Losing a horse or one of us is another.”
Jolene looked at Joshua. “Is that the same lion that spooked Gavin’s horse?”
“Might be,” he answered. “We didn’t get a good look at it.”
The table fell silent, each person lost in their own calculations and concerns.
“Do you really think it’s the same one?” Lilian asked, breaking the silence.
“Could be,” said Grayson. “Or it could be a different cat altogether. Either way, we need to be vigilant.”
Naomi leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “We’ve dealt with lions before. This isn’t anything new.”
Joshua listened, absorbing the varying degrees of concern and bravado. His thoughts drifted to Faith again, wondering what she was doing tonight, alone in her large house. The idea bothered him.
The family finished their meal in contemplative silence, each member slowly piecing together the days ahead.
Joshua couldn’t shake the feeling the lion was more than an animal threat. He believed it was a harbinger of something larger. A test for them all.
Chapter Five
Faith Goodell opened her front door wide, letting the crisp autumn air rush in along with a flurry of eager women. She greeted each with a gracious smile, directing them toward the parlor, where a table of refreshments and chairs had been arranged. The women shrugged off coats and hats, chatting excitedly amongst themselves.
This was the first official meeting of the Mystic Women’s Alliance, and the air was thick with anticipation.
“Thank you all for coming,” Faith called out. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
The women took their seats, some perched on the edges of their chairs, as if ready to spring into action. Faith surveyed the room, her heart swelling. These were the women who would help shape the future of Mystic—business owners, mothers, and teachers—all united by a common goal. The room buzzed with the sound of passionate voices and clinking teacups.
