A Promise to Believe in by Tracie Peterson Read Free Book Online Page B

tilling.”
    “Perhaps the mineral content in the ground create an inhospitable base for such things.”
    “The mineral content?” Lacy asked, staring hard at Hank. “What has that got to do with it?”
    Hank shrugged. “With the hot springs here, I thought perhaps the ground might have a higher concentration of minerals, such as sodiums and sulfates. Such materials can often aid or interfere with the growth patterns in a variety of vegetation. I propose that it might very well be the mineral content in the soil that impedes your sister’s efforts rather than some failing in her ability.”
    “Oh,” Lacy said, clearly not expecting the depth of his answer.
    “Are we too late for supper?” Nick asked as he and Simon snuck in from the kitchen.
    Gwen laughed and took the matter in good nature. “Not at all. Lacy, please get another place setting. Since Dave isn’t joining us, we just need one more.”
    Hank noted the ease in which she handled the matter. His own mother had held many a dinner party, and the care and meticulous effort that went into each event always took more time and staging than the party itself. Apparently in the West, things were done on a more casual basis.
    Simon and Nick each took a seat while Lacy retrieved another setting. “You boys want coffee?” she asked as she positioned a plate and silverware in front of Simon.
    “Of course,” they replied in unison.
    “I nearly forgot about the coffee,” Beth said, getting up rather quickly. “I’ll get it.”
    “Mr. Bishop is the brother of Harvey,” Gwen stated suddenly. She smiled only a moment in Hank’s direction, but her gaze never quite reached him. “He is here on behalf of their mother.”
    “I thought Harvey said he was an orphan without living family,” Patience replied.
    “I thought so, too,” Gwen answered. She passed her plate to Jerry, who added a generous portion of chicken before handing it back.
    “Hank, you want white meat or dark?” Jerry asked.
    “Either is fine.” Hank wasn’t used to such simple fare, to be honest. Chicken was a staple of lower society. He found himself longing for a succulent pheasant or roasted rack of lamb. Chicken had never appealed all that much. Generally, it was too scrawny and dry to suit his taste.
    Beth poured a round of coffee for everyone, then excused herself to put on another pot. Gwen passed Hank the bowl of mashed potatoes, but her eyes did not lift to meet his. He took the bowl and spooned himself a portion. He was used to servants doing such menial tasks, but he supposed this was yet another way things were done in the West.
    The meal continued with an odd assortment of conversations that involved Harvey and the love people in the community held for him, as well as the now-departed Mr. Gallatin.
    “Harvey was such a dear,” Patience began. “He once helped me gather my best laying hens when they managed to get out of their pen. I’m still not sure what or who managed to break down the gate, but Harvey even fixed that.”
    Hank tried to imagine his brother chasing down chickens. The thought amused him, but he didn’t let on.
    “Then there was the time he came and helped with roundup,” Jerry added. “He was clumsy with a branding iron at first, but he soon got the hang of it.”
    Hank marveled at the stories. It was as if they were speaking about a complete stranger. Harvey had been such a fragile young man when he’d left home. Sickly in his youth, their mother had done much to protect him from the harsher aspects of life. Of course, their stepfather hadn’t thought much of this. Frankly, neither had Hank. He often thought Harvey was merely playing a game for sympathy. Yet these people admired his brother. In fact, to hear them tell it, his brother was a one-man army of ability and good deeds.
    “Your brother was definitely a blessing to this community. He was so handy,” Patience said, shaking her head. “Such a pity that he should have died from