Page 15 of Heart of Mystic Valley
She shot him a sidelong glance. “You think it’s impossible?”
“I think it’s hard,” he said. “Hard isn’t the same as impossible.”
They passed the closed clinic, where a cluster of men eyed Faith with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. One of them hollered after them. “How’s the voting issue going, Faith? Ever think about what your pa would say about what you’re stirring up?”
Faith’s grip on Joshua’s arm tightened. He could feel the tension radiating from her, the conflict between her fiery spirit and the calculated restraint she knew was needed.
“We’re making progress,” she stated, more to herself than to the man who now stood behind them.
Joshua remained silent, his thoughts unreadable. Faith wondered if he agreed with the skeptics or if he believed in her cause but not in her ability to see it through. Yet he walked with her, and that meant something.
Each doubt cast her way was meant to be a gust of wind trying to snuff out a candle. Instead, it made Faith’s flame dance higher.
They turned a corner, where the trees lining the road had begun to shed their autumn colors. Leaves swirled around their feet like a playful dog’s tail.
“The meeting went better than I expected,” Faith said. “I’m proud of how the women came together. A library is something tangible, a benefit to everyone.”
Joshua nodded. “It’s a sensible compromise. How do you plan to run it?”
“Donations at first. Books, money, whatever people can spare. We hope the Alliance members will volunteer their time to keep it open several days a week.”
“Hope?” Joshua raised an eyebrow.
“Expect,” she corrected herself, then sighed. “It’s a lot to ask. These women have families and businesses. It will be difficult for them to carve out more time to volunteer in the library.”
“They wouldn’t be part of the Alliance if they didn’t believe in what you’re doing.”
Faith considered this. “Belief is one thing. Sacrifice is another.”
They walked in silence for a moment, the sound of fall leaves crunching underfoot filling the space between them. Faith unlinked her arm from Joshua’s and crossed her arms over her chest as if hugging herself against an unseen chill.
“We’re setting the foundation for something lasting,” she said, her voice full of conviction. “I just hope the future cares to build on it.”
They neared the edge of town, where buildings gave way to open fields.
“Doyle Shaw,” he said, breaking the quiet. “Why was he at the meeting?”
She unclasped her arms and let them swing freely at her sides. “He wanted to hear our ideas firsthand. He’s been supportive.”
“Supportive,” Joshua repeated, his tone neutral.
“He dispersed the group of men who were loitering outside, remember? Those men weren’t there to cheer us on. Doyle’s a businessman. He knows which way the wind is blowing.”
“So, you think his support isn’t genuine?”
“I think it’s pragmatic.”
They reached a small park where a few children played on makeshift swings. An older boy ran barefoot, a kite trailing behind him like a conquered dragon. Faith slowed, then stopped, causing Joshua to turn and face her.
“We need all the allies we can get,” she said.
He held her gaze for a long moment. “Be careful who you trust.”
He started walking again. Faith hesitated, then hurried to catch up, her mind whirring with the implications of Joshua’s words. Allies, trust, pragmatism. She weighed each concept like a reporter sifting through facts for a story.
Joshua slowed his pace, and Faith matched him, their strides becoming more deliberate.
“You know,” he began, “attending the open council meetings would be a good start. Listening, learning. It might make the men more comfortable with the idea of you having a say.”
