Page 9 of Heart of Mystic Valley
Faith left Joshua to stare after her, wondering what had just happened.
Chapter Four
Joshua Beckett rode toward home, letting his horse set the pace as he lost himself in thought. The autumn air carried a bite, hinting at the harsh winter to come. He pulled his collar up against the wind and considered the contentious discussion with Faith. Her sharp wit had been as constant as ever.
Their history was long. As children, they’d run wild along the riverbanks, more like siblings than friends. Joshua smiled, remembering the time she’d punched him square in the nose for mocking her new bonnet. He’d bled all over it, ruining the thing, and she’d cried. Her tears weren’t for his injury. They were for the bonnet she’d so proudly worn to Wild Spirit Ranch from town. Even then, her passion had been something to reckon with.
Contrasts defined them. His calm against her tempestuous nature, his slow deliberation versus her rapid decisions. Yet those differences had forged a resilient friendship, one able to weather any storm. He wondered if their heated conversation in town would change anything.
The familiar sight of Wild Spirit Ranch came into view, its sprawling acres a testament to his family’s enduring labor.
Memories surged like spring runoff in Joshua’s mind. He saw them both as children again, barefoot and sunburned, two small figures cutting through tall grass and leaping over rocks.
One summer day, they’d constructed a makeshift raft from old timber and set out to conquer the river. Faith had stood at the bow like a pirate queen, daring the currents, while Joshua paddled with cautious strokes. When the raft hit a snag and splintered, dumping them into the icy water, it was Faith who’d laughed first, her fearless howl infectious. Joshua had joined in, even as he shivered and worried about explaining his soaked clothes to his mother.
Then there was the winter they’d gone trapping with Joshua’s father and brothers. Faith had set her snares as his father had instructed, her eyes alight with the thrill of the hunt. Joshua, having done this for a few years, kept a close watch on her. When they found a rabbit caught and struggling, Joshua had freed it, letting it bolt into the snowy underbrush. Faith had protested at first, then relented, realizing the animal was too small to keep.
“You’re too soft, Josh,” she’d said, arms crossed. “It’s survival—”
“Survival?” he’d cut in, hurt and defensive. “I’ll survive just fine, Faith. I don’t have to kill everything I see.”
They hadn’t spoken for a week, the longest silence in their friendship. It was Faith who’d broken it, sharing her school lunch and handing him a written apology. She’d never said the words “I’m sorry,” but Joshua knew her well enough to read between the lines.
Their friendship had always walked a tightrope, balancing her unyielding nature with his more flexible spirit. Each clash and reconciliation only tightened the bond between them.
Joshua dismounted and led his horse to the barn, his mind still lingering in the past.
Warm light spilled from the Beckett homestead. Joshua hung his hat by the door, his stomach growling at the rich aroma of roasted meat. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now.
The family was already assembled in the dining room, a large space dominated by an oak table handcrafted by Millard Beckett, their late patriarch. Around it sat three generations of Becketts. Matriarch Naomi, eldest son Grayson with his wife Jolene, and the various sons and daughters who made up the sprawling clan.
“Josh,” called Jolene, her voice warm. “We thought you’d be staying in town.”
“Just late,” he said, taking an empty seat beside his mother.
Grayson raised a hand, and the room fell silent. “Lord, we thank you for this food, for our family, and for the strength to do our work. Amen.”
“Amen,” echoed the table, and the sound of utensils and voices filled the room.
“How’s the new foal?” asked Annalee.
“Strong and spry,” Cody answered. “A real beauty. We’ll need a name soon.”
“Call him ‘Workload’,” suggested Nathan, another brother, with a sly grin. “Seems fitting.”
Laughter rippled around the table. Joshua noted how Nathan’s eyes darted to Naomi, measuring her reaction. Of all the siblings, Nathan was the most prone to jest.
Naomi passed a dish of green beans to Gavin, her eyes softening and lips twitching.
Joshua ate slowly, savoring each bite, but more than that, he savored the company. He watched his family with the keen eye of a herdsman surveying his flock. This was his true gift. Always the peacemaker, he could sense the underlying currents and unspoken truths binding people together.
Grayson and Jolene were holding hands beneath the table, a subtle gesture of affection that spoke volumes about their union. In contrast, Cody sat slightly apart, his posture erect and his movements precise, as if conserving energy for a battle only he anticipated.
Gavin, usually full of chatter, was subdued tonight. His eyes tracked the conversation like a pup sidelined from play. Joshua knew the boy was suffering. A broken arm was bad enough, but the enforced idleness gnawed at Gavin’s spirit.
Then there was Naomi. In her fifties, she was a force of pure energy, her wiry frame and sharp eyes undiminished by age. Yet tonight, Joshua thought he detected a weariness in her, a rounding of the shoulders suggesting more than simple fatigue.
“First snow can’t be far off,” Grayson said, breaking into Joshua’s thoughts. “We need to get a move on with winter preparations.”
