Song of Her Heart Read Free Page A

with a winsome body.
    Being a large man, Mason had never been attracted to petite, delicate women who looked like a strong prairie wind would blow them away. Norah Williamson filled the physical qualities he admired in a woman—although not obese, she carried enough flesh that a man could have an armful when he hugged her.
    While they’d sat at the table visiting, and later relaxing by the fire, Mason realized that, for the first time, this house seemed like a home. His mother had died when Mason was a child, and he didn’t even remember her. During the year he’d been married,he and his wife had lived in a small house a few miles away. After her death, he’d moved in with his father. Mason had been lonely since his father’s death, but he hadn’t understood how lonely until Norah had entered his home. Yearnings that Mason thought he’d stifled forever suddenly seemed important again, and he stayed in his easy chair long after the embers of the fire had faded away.
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    The room was totally dark when Norah awakened, and she was terrified. Realization came quickly that she wasn’t in her bed at home, but on an isolated ranch in northern Nebraska. The awareness did nothing to calm her nerves. She hastily turned on the light that was hooked over the wooden headboard of the bed, and her racing heartbeat eased when the light chased the darkness away.
    She lifted her watch from the bedside table. Four o’clock! After spending a restless night, Norah longed for daylight and the start of a new day. She’d still been awake when Mason had entered his bedroom across the hallway, and although she’d dozed several times, thoughts of Mason had been present in her mind all night.
    Occupied as she’d been with caring for her family, Norah hadn’t made many male friends, so she was unprepared for her physical reaction to Mason’s rugged personality. His wide shoulders were slightlystooped, but his rangy body towered several inches over six feet. Obviously a powerful man, Mason was a product of the rangeland where he and his ancestors had battled the elements to make a home. His black whiskers and hair were tinged with gray, and his generous mouth and dark brown eyes were touched with humor. But in spite of his vigorous masculinity, she detected a hint of wistfulness in Mason’s gentle expression, as if he was searching for something that evaded him. He obviously was a successful rancher, but was he happy?
    Disgusted that she’d allowed thoughts of Mason to keep her awake, Norah flopped over on her side and hoped for sleep, but concern about the uncertainty of her future wouldn’t let her rest.
    She was committed to working for Mason during the summer, but what then? Knowing that she didn’t have enough education to become a missionary kept Norah wide-awake. She’d hoped to use the money from the sale of the family home to prepare for her lifelong dream of becoming a missionary. But was she too old to work on the overseas mission field? It would take several years to receive the education she needed for mission appointment, and by that time she’d be almost fifty years old. What could a woman in midlife do to make her life count?
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    Hearing a soft knock on the door, Norah roused from her catnap.
    â€œYes,” she answered sleepily.
    â€œI’m going to the barn,” Mason said. “I’ll be back in an hour, and we can have breakfast. But if you’re tired, go back to sleep.”
    â€œNo, I’m ready to get up.”
    The room was cold, and after she heard Mason’s deliberate tread outside the window, Norah put on her robe and hustled into the bathroom across the hall. After a shower, she put on the extra change of clothes she’d packed in the small bag. A pair of jeans and a plaid, long-sleeved shirt seemed suitable attire for a ranch cook, she thought humorously as she walked toward the kitchen.
    From the many boxes of dry